Lillyanne Plume's Arc

Chapter 16 of 22

Lillyanne set the lamp down and gripped the edge of the side table. Marjorie's body still lay on the rug behind her. Any minute, another team could try the door. If they found the postwoman here, the win belonged to whoever found the killer first. She had to hide the body and find the clue before that happened. Her fingers caught on a seam beneath the table's lip. She crouched. A shallow drawer sat tucked under the wood, hidden by the trim. Three wooden tabs stuck out from its face. She pulled the first. It slid, then clicked. Each tab showed a single carved number that turned when she pushed it. One through nine. "Scott." She kept her voice low. "I need three numbers." He was already back at the body. He rolled Marjorie onto her side. The braid fell away from the neck. He pushed the collar of the red coat down. "Here," he said. Lillyanne came over. Three shallow cuts sat at the base of Marjorie's neck, above the spine. Not deep. Made after the throat, from the look of the clean edges. Three. Nine. Five. Her stomach turned. Someone had carved a combination into the postwoman like a label on a package. The rosy-cheeked woman who used to hand her mail at the door. Who had warned her. Who had given her Scott's name and then begged her not to go. "They used her as the key," Lillyanne said. "They used her for a lot of things." Scott laid the body back down. "Open it." She went back to the drawer. Three. Click. Nine. Click. Five. Click. The drawer slid free in her hand. Inside sat one folded page. The writing was brown-red and cracked where it had dried. She read it out. "You've discovered the death of Miss Boddy. Isn't she pretty? But her outfit is missing an accessory. Find it, and you find the clue." Scott took the note from her. He read it twice. "Hide her," he said. "Now. Under the bed. Pull the skirt down." He crossed to the closet and yanked the door. Inside, a second door stood behind the hanging coats, painted the same purple and gold as the inn's twisted halls. He tried the handle. It opened. Beyond it, a narrow crawl space smelled of dust and cold. "In here," he said. "The inn shifts. If we're lucky it won't shift back." Lillyanne took Marjorie's shoulders. Scott took the ankles. They fit her into the crawl space and pulled the coats back across the closet door. Lillyanne tugged the rug under the bed, eager to hide the blood stain. She stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard. The body was gone. The claim was theirs. She looked down at the note in her palm. “What was missing?” she whispered. A purse? No. She was stuck. “Think,” Scott said, more to himself than to her. “Whimsy. Think whimsy.” Lilly’s brows furrowed before they lifted. “A hat!” she shouted before quieting. “She’s missing a hat like the masters.” Scott grinned. “Great. Let’s go fetch us a hat.”