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Chapter One
My dearest Tilly,
I need your help.
I know, I know, we haven’t spoken since meeting fifty years ago when we were both twenty and crossing the Atlantic together. You, heading off south through Europe then to Africa, and me to England to meet my future in-laws. All of our letters back and forth over the years were wonderful, but now I need you here with your outside perspective. Strange oddities have been happening, and I simply cannot trust anyone. Especially family and friends closest to me.
So, let me get to the details of my proposal. I own a beautiful bed and breakfast named Moonlight Mansion here in the Peach Plains region of Georgia. Frog Hollow is a tiny but beautiful dot on the map. I’m having a weekend soiree in exactly one month. The goal? Outing a traitor. You, my dear friend, will be my second set of eyes and ears. If my memory serves me accurately, you have a unique ability to see through all the bluster people surround themselves with, drilling straight to the nitty-gritty.
I’m counting on you, Tilly. I know you never refuse an adventure or a challenge. I’m giving you both.
I can promise luxurious accommodations. You’ll stay with me in my third-floor apartment with everything you could possibly want or need—beautiful views, canopy bed, private bathroom with a Jacuzzi, and maid service at the touch of a button.
Bring a friend with you; I have plenty of room.
I look forward to seeing you again, dear Tilly. Ta-ta for now.
Always,
Audrey Knight Fernsby
P.S. 142 Live Oak Lane, Frog Hollow, Georgia
Chapter Two
So, here I hovered on the balcony of my mansion in my little town of Frog Hollow, Georgia, waiting for Tilly to arrive. Would my friend drive from Pineville, Maine, because I hinted at a problem and asked her for help?
Of course, everything had changed since a month ago when I sent that letter. And, not in a good way.
Headlights pierced the swirling mist below me. I waited, full of hope as my clock chimed midnight. In an odd kind of way, that seemed appropriate.
Yes! I watched as Tilly, an older, gray-haired version of the young woman I remembered, pulled into the driveway and shut off her engine. I’d recognize her anywhere. Even after these fifty years. Sure, her silver hair was now cropped short instead of those long tresses she sported years ago. But what hadn’t changed was her stately posture that said, Here comes Tilly, watch out world.
She pulled her sweater around herself. Likely the chilly night air seeped into the car windows even before she quietly slipped out of her Volkswagen beetle. An owl hooted overhead. The midnight stillness magnified every frog peep, leaf rustle, and twig snap. I could see excitement sparkle in her eyes as I waited for her to make the trek inside.
But then someone stirred in the passenger seat. A younger woman sat up straight and wiped a string of drool off her face. She looked in the visor mirror, and I could lip-read her question to Tilly. “Where are we?”
I was antsy to catch up with Tilly, but I had to let them settle in at their own pace.
Tilly bent down and looked through the open door. The night mist magnified her voice, and I heard her say, “Come on, Sunny. We’re here. Get out and take a look at Moonlight Mansion. It’s even grander than I’d imagined with turrets, and rooms galore with shutters framing all the windows. It’s a magnificent stone monstrosity.”
I knew she’d like my mansion with its unique intrigue.
Tilly’s companion yawned and groaned and stretched. She looked to be around thirty I guessed, attractive with two dark French braids framing her face. I was anxious to meet Tilly’s friend. She’d told me about her in our correspondence, so I already knew I liked her.
Tilly squeaked, then chuckled when my cat, Mocha, came up behind her and rubbed against her legs.
“Aren’t you the cutest black cat I’ve ever seen,” she said, cradling the feline in her arms. Mocha rewarded the attention with loud purrs and friendly head butts.
“Sunny. I have a surprise for you,” Tilly said.
The passenger door squeaked open. Sunny walked around the front of the red VW, rubbed her eyes, and looked at the mansion. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
“According to my GPS, this is 142 Live Oak Lane in Frog Hollow, Georgia.”
Mocha jumped out of Tilly’s arms, and with her tail pointing up to the sky, walked silently to the front door, sat, and licked her paw.
“Our tour guide,” Tilly said and followed the cat up the stone steps.
She was about to push the Victorian brass doorbell when Sunny grabbed her arm and stopped her. “It’s late. Should we just wait in the car until the sun comes up?”
No! Don’t wait, I wanted to shout.
“What. And waste six hours of catching up with Audrey? I don’t think so, Sunny. Besides, the cat wants to go in.” Tilly said, and that seemed to satisfy Sunny.
I heard the deep ding-dong-ding echoing through my mansion.
Mocha looked up at them, stretched, and put her front paws on the door.
It opened with a long squeaky sound.
I glided down to the second-floor landing, careful to stay hidden but still in a position to see what they’d do next.
“I wasn’t expecting the cat to open the door, but maybe Audrey decided to leave it unlocked for us. This is a bed and breakfast, after all, and it seems like a safe neighborhood,” Tilly said. She fluffed her short hair and adjusted a colorful scarf tied around her neck.
“Creepy if you ask me,” Sunny whispered. She leaned forward, swiveling her head to scan the foyer, but staying firmly rooted outside. “You aren’t planning to go inside, are you?”
Mocha disappeared into the dark hallway. In answer, Tilly linked her arm through Sunny’s and pulled her across the threshold. She nudged the door with her elbow, pushing it closed behind them.
“No sense letting any night insects get in,” she said. I appreciated her thoughtfulness, not that those pesky mosquitoes could bother me anymore.
“Now what?” Sunny asked, as they waited in the dark interior.
Then, a blinding light from hundreds of flame-shaped bulbs in my overhead chandelier burst the room into a midday brightness.
“Who are you?” Birdie blurted out in an angry hiss at this unexpected intrusion. In her early fifties, she wore a scowl under her copper and gold hair that stuck out in every direction, and she hated anyone disturbing her beauty sleep. As she moved further down the stairs, her purple satin robe swished around her plump frame.
I called Birdie my manager, but really, she was so much more. Where would Moonlight Mansion be without her eagle eye watching all the details. However, nothing about her businesslike demeanor offered a welcome to Moonlight Mansion.
Tilly, blinking the blindness from her eyes, stared at Birdie. I imagined this was the opposite of the warm greeting she’d expected.
“You’re not Audrey. This is the Moonlight Mansion, isn’t it?”
“Ya got that right, hon, but who the heck are you?”
“Tilly Morris and my friend Sunny Shaw, from Pineville, Maine,” she answered. She put her arm around Sunny’s shoulders and drew her close. “Audrey invited us for the weekend,” she added like that would clear everything up.
“Ya don’t say.” Birdie leaned against the elegant banister that curved from the grand entry to the second level. I waited in the shadows as Birdie tried to dispatch my guests. “We’re full. Or, at least we will be tomorrow.”
I wanted to say something but didn’t dare reveal myself. They needed to get away from Birdie and up to my apartment, or they might decide to turn around and leave. I couldn’t risk that.
Looking exhausted from their long drive, Tilly asked, “Where’s Audrey? She’ll clear everything up.”
“Well, hon, that’s the problem … Audrey died a month ago.”
I was sure I let out a sob, but no one seemed to notice.
Chapter Three
Tilly dropped Mocha when she heard the news. “Excuse me?” she said as though she had something stuck in her ears. Mocha, as shocked as Tilly but for different reasons, landed with a thud and an unhappy yowl.
“Oh, my goodness,” Birdie said. She stared at the cat with eyes wide as if she’d seen a ghost. If she only knew who she’d been living with for the past month, I thought, chuckling to myself.
She stepped backward, moving up a couple of stairs. “That’s Mocha, Audrey’s black cat. I’d recognize her anywhere with her one green and one yellow eye. She disappeared the night Audrey died. Watch out for her. Audrey was the only one who could get near that cat. I can’t believe she came back.”
The cat flicked its tail and looked at Tilly as if to say, Don’t believe a word of that nonsense. I could tell Mocha trusted Tilly and Sunny. That made me extremely happy.
Sunny stepped in front of Tilly and picked up the cat. “Come on. Audrey said we’d be staying in her apartment on the third floor. I’m sure we can find our way. Let’s go.”
Birdie spread her arms wide, like a traffic guard. “Wait just a minute! No one has been up there since the accident.”
I wanted to beckon them upstairs, but there was nothing I could do without revealing myself. If I did that, Birdie might drop dead right in front of Tilly and Sunny. No, I had to be patient.
“Okay, then,” Sunny said. She cuddled Mocha, who obviously loved the attention. “It’s either that, or you can treat us like Audrey’s guests while you fill us in on the details.”
“Now?”
“Now,” Sunny said, leaving no room for an argument. “And what’s your name?”
“Birdie Belle Long, after my great-grandmother and proud of it,” she said, standing taller and jutting out her chin. Yes. Birdie got more than her great-grandmother’s name. She’d inherited an inner strength, a fierce loyalty, and a passion for doing the right thing. No matter what.
“Okay, Birdie,” Tilly said, flashing a charming smile that she’d perfected over the decades. “We just drove through the night and a nice cold drink would go down well right about now. Where’s the kitchen?”
Birdie, to her credit, pulled herself together with several quick finger combs to smooth her bedhead hair before she wiggled and jiggled to straighten her robe.
“Follow me.” She led them through a maze of hallways to the back of the mansion, into my enormous kitchen.
Tilly didn’t look impressed one bit, but Sunny’s eyes almost fell off her face when she saw the gleaming commercial-sized appliances and expansive granite counters. She must love to cook. I imagined the kitchen was a dream come true.
Birdie hurried to clear the island, stuffing receipts and other papers in her beautiful soft, tan leather briefcase. It was a relic from her life before coming to the mansion that she used out of habit. “I’ve been doing my paperwork and using the kitchen as my office. Why don’t you two have a seat?”
Tidy to a fault, she stashed her busywork out of sight of Tilly and Sunny in the hall closet, then ushered them to the cozy nook built into a U-shaped wall of windows, dark outside now except for the moonlight filtering in. She joined them with a pitcher, glasses, and a plate of cookies. Tilly smiled, seeming to thaw a bit toward Birdie. Food, especially sweets, had a way of doing that for her.
“Is sweetened iced tea okay with you ladies?” Birdie asked.
Tilly nodded and helped herself to a pecan shortbread cookie. Boy, did I miss those tender bites of buttery morsels. Sadly, they wouldn’t melt in my mouth now, given how things had turned out.
“Thanks, Birdie,” Sunny said as she stroked Mocha. “Now, tell us what happened to Audrey?”
Birdie settled onto a chair with a deep sigh like she’d hoped they’d forgotten about that detail. I knew she hated thinking about, never mind talking about, the night I died.
She filled three glasses with tea. “There’s a balcony off Audrey’s living room on the third floor,” she said, clearly shivering at the memory. “She fell, landed right on one of her prize peach-colored rose bushes. The investigation concluded that her fall was an accident.” She bit into a cookie and brushed the crumbs off the table. She probably wished she could brush Sunny and Tilly away just as easily.
Tilly bolted up straight. “An investigation? Does that mean there was evidence of possible foul play?” The reality that I was dead suddenly registered with her and seemed to fill my friend with a deep and profound sadness. I felt sorry that I was the reason for her distress.
Birdie waved her hand dismissively. “Of course, they had to investigate, but since Audrey had been upstairs by herself, there wasn’t anything suspicious to point to. All the guests had gone to bed.” She shrugged. “It had to be an accident, right?”
I knew Birdie was a decent person, but she’d never shown a shred of a suspicious imagination. That was why I needed Tilly, now more than ever, to help me. She would never take something like this at face value. Especially since I told her in my letter about some oddities happening, and how I couldn’t trust anyone.
“Guests?” Tilly asked. “Maybe someone snuck up to her apartment after everyone else had gone to sleep.”
Birdie narrowed her eyes. “Hmmm. I never thought of that. There was no sign of a break-in, but since Audrey rarely locked her doors, we didn’t think anything of it. The detective on the case interviewed everyone, and he was satisfied with the alibis. No other clues showed up, either. Plus, he’s a real looker, if ya know what I mean.”
I rolled my eyes, or at least it felt like I did. Birdie was so easily turned by a good-looking man that she’d believe anything he told her. My estranged husband came to mind on that front. But, no clues? I relived the memory of two hands shoving my back. There had to be a clue somewhere.
“Plus,” Birdie continued, popping my memory bubble. “Why would anyone want to kill Audrey? Everyone adored her. She donated to all the local charities, did fundraisers for the animal shelter and library, and was even planning to run for mayor of our little community. That was mostly a symbolic position than anything else, but Audrey liked that kind of thing.” Birdie stuffed another cookie into her mouth.
Adored me? On the surface, they did for the exact reason Birdie laid out—my generous donations. I might be dead, but I wasn’t a fool.
“Well, from our perspective,” Tilly said, glancing at Sunny who gave her a raised eyebrow. “Something sounds fishy. People don’t always tell the truth. Especially, if they’re hiding a secret.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“I suppose you might have a point,” Birdie said. “At any rate, you’ll get to meet everyone who stayed here the night Audrey died. She’d planned a big Halloween party but now it’s just an intimate gathering. They’re arriving tomorrow. I’ve been wondering why they want to return. I suppose it could be because Audrey’s parties were a must-show event for the people invited or”—Birdie gave both Sunny and Tilly a knowing glance—“because her lawyer will read her will. That has been the talk of the town since she died.”
Birdie finished her iced tea, dabbed the edges of her lips with her finger, and pushed herself up from the chair. “I’m sure you two are tired after your trip, and I need to get my beauty sleep. It’s guaranteed to be a busy weekend, so how about I show you the way upstairs to Audrey’s apartment?”
“Sunny,” Tilly said. “I’ll take the cat, and you can go out to the car and get our bags.”
“You’re taking the cat upstairs with you?” Birdie looked aghast at the thought of spending the night with Mocha.
“It’s where she lived when Audrey was alive, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts about it. Mocha stays with us. Having a cat for company will make it feel more like home for us, right, Sunny?”
“Totally.”
“Follow the stairs when you come back in, Sunny,” Birdie said. “Or, leave Mocha to lead the way. She used to think she owned the place.”
“I don’t doubt it. She’s a cat,” Sunny answered as if that explained everything.
To anyone who knew cats, I suppose it did. She wandered off in the direction of the front door.
They were suspicious, they loved Mocha, and they didn’t let Birdie intimidate them. My anticipation to sit and chat with my old friend and her guest made me tingle in some weird way, but I had no idea what it meant.
End of Excerpt
