“Americans,” Byon muttered.
Jack gave him a look to shut up. “We need to figure this out. We have given ourselves the rest of the weekend. On Monday at 4:00 p.m., we turn it all over to the police. Whether we give them a person who is a murderer or just hand over the masses of information that we’ve gathered is up to you. Are you going to help us or are you going to continue to bicker?”
They looked like they were considering the matter. Only Willa spoke up. “I’ll help. How about if I retrace my steps that night?” She gave Clive a little smile. “I’ll show you where I was and where other people weren’t.”
“Looks like we have a lamb to burn.” Byon was looking at Clive. “I’ll get rosemary for seasoning.”
“Can the rest of you show us what you did that night?” Kate asked.
“Of course.” Nadine was holding her daughter’s hand.
“It’ll be useless,” Byon said. “Without Nicky, there’s nothing.”
“Who did he fight with?” Jack asked. “How did his face get smashed?”
They all looked straight ahead and said nothing.
Jack threw up his hands. “Your choice. We’re not going to beg you to tell us.”
Sara stepped forward. “We’re not going to reenact an English murder mystery. We aren’t going to plead with you to tell us what you know, then you say, ‘How dare you?’ It doesn’t work that way. You tell us or not. But what we do get, we’ll give to the police.”
“If we don’t have a murderer by Monday, the tabloids will speculate on each one of you,” Jack said.
“I’m sure they’ll be as kind to you as they were to me,” Sara said. “That should be fun, right, Byon?” Her vision of headlines pointing out Byon’s failed career seemed to project itself to him. His face turned a yellowish-green.
“None of us wants that,” Willa said.
“Afraid your siblings will say, ‘I told you so?’” Clive said snidely.
“They’re too afraid I’ll stop paying their bills to say anything bad to me.” Willa gave a little smile.
Clive’s face lost its smirk and looked at her with interest.
“Love is in the air,” Byon said.
“And the color is green.” Nadine stood up. “I need time to digest all of this.” She looked at her daughter. “We’ll discuss this and decide what to do. Are we free to go or have we been imprisoned?”
Jack gestured toward the big doors in the back. “Go to London for all I care. I’m sure no one will even hint that you murdered a man who was bribed by your father.”
Nadine gave Jack a look that nearly set his hair on fire. Then she put her nose in the air and left the chapel.
Quietly, the others followed. Even Byon seemed to have nothing to say.
When they were alone again, Jack, Kate and Sara looked at each other as they started putting away the video equipment.
“We did our best,” Sara said.
“I loved your English murder mystery crack,” Kate said. “I feel sorry for the detectives on TV having to deal with all the lies.”
“Then figuring out the answer through superior intelligence,” Jack said. “Wish I could do that.”
Kate was looking at her aunt. “You have something in mind, don’t you?”
“Willa said she’d walk us through that night. I know she still wants to know where Clive was hiding, but I wonder about the others too. Maybe...”
“Maybe what?” Jack asked.
Sara closed her computer. “I have an idea about something. Would you two mind if I kept some secrets from you?”
“I would love it if you kept everything a secret,” Jack said. “I mean like shoot Cupid’s arrows into the sky love. I’d light candles of thanks. I’ll name something after you. A kid maybe. I’ll—”
Sara and Kate were looking at him with expressions of too much!
“Wouldn’t mind it at all,” he said. “What about you, Kate?”
“I’d be fine with it,” she said politely.
“See you later then.” Sara hurried out the door.
Jack turned to Kate. “I’ll take care of this. Go. Have fun.”
“Thanks.” Kate hurried after her aunt.
Smiling, Jack finished clearing up.
Eighteen
It was early evening, and Sara was being bawled out by Bella. They were in her mini-Versailles of a bedroom—way too much gold for Sara’s taste—and Bella was piling guilt onto her. “How could you do this to me?” Bella said for the third time. “You know how hard I’ve worked to make this into a world-class hotel. And I’ve succeeded. But this!” She held up the tabloid that had butchered Sara. “Murder at Oxley Manor. I’ve already had six calls asking to stay in the room where the man was murdered. Not suicide but murder.”
Sara kept her head down and looked as contrite as she could manage. But, she was thinking, This is nothing. Wait until the world finds out there’s a skeleton on your property. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Again. She wanted to defend herself, but she really was the one who’d started it all.
“They were going to leave.” Bella was standing over Sara like some great ogre ready to drop blows onto her head. “Then you met in the chapel and now they’re all...” She turned on her heel. “I don’t know what they’re planning. Some of them are in the attic.”
“Kate and Byon are looking for—”
“I don’t care,” Bella shouted. “I want them out of here.”
“Bella,” Sara said gently. “There are things going on that I can’t tell you about.”
Bella threw up her hands in exasperation. “Parasites, the lot of them. That Nadine is husband hunting. Disgusting. I think that daughter of hers was fathered by the boy who worked in the stables. How distasteful! The music man plays piano in a bar.”
Sara was looking at her friend with wide eyes. “You seem to know a lot about them.”
“They’re not exactly quiet, are they?”
From what Sara had seen, they were a secretive lot. On the other hand, if Bella had done some research, Sara didn’t blame her.
“What went on in my chapel?” Bella’s eyes were intense.
“Showing off my photography,” Sara said. “You know how vain I am about it. I have lots of pictures of the estate. You can use them on your website. Free.”