Free Deception at Dark Hall (The Briony Martin Mystery Series) by Stacey Coverstone Page A

Daniel asked.
    She shook her head. “The mail comes in the afternoon, so it wasn’t the postman.”
    “There’s no stamp or postmark,” he noted.
    “I was in the kitchen,” Paige continued. “I heard the squealing of tires, and it sounded close, so I glanced out the window and saw the tail end of a car heading down the street. I didn’t hear anyone approach the door. No one knocked or rang the bell. When I stepped into the living room, I saw the envelope on the foyer floor.” She looked ready to burst into tears. “What does it mean, Daniel?”
    Briony’s curiosity could wait no longer. “May I see what the fuss is about?” She reached for the paper in his hand. Her gaze moved across the typed words that threatened Daniel with death if he didn’t mind his own business and leave the Dark women alone. Realizing too late that she’d broken the most basic of investigatory rules, she gritted her teeth in frustration. “We’ve all touched both the envelope and the paper, which we shouldn’t have done. Our fingerprints may have smudged those of the person who sent this.”
    Paige’s mouth gaped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” Her lips quivered, and then her gaze shifted to Daniel. With eyes suddenly flashing, she ground out, “This is all happening because you got mixed up with Dark Hall. We’ve heard the rumors. I knew that place was evil. You almost got yourself killed. You still might! Now you’ve involved not only me and Mark, but also my best friend!”
    Briony wrapped her arm around Paige. “Let’s all stay calm. Daniel will call Sergeant Montague right now, and he’ll come over and sort everything out. The police will know what to do. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.” Daniel stood with a blank expression on his face. Briony nudged him in the ribs. “Go call the policeman. Now.”
    ~ * ~
    Sergeant Montague donned plastic gloves. He read the note and then put it back into the envelope and slipped the envelope into a plastic bag as evidence. Next, he dusted the outside of the mail slot and front door for prints. When he’d finished, he lowered his weight onto the couch.
    “It’s unlikely we’ll be able to lift fingerprints off the envelope and paper since all of you touched them.” His mouth tightened with annoyance, and his gaze flitted around the room. “But if we’re lucky, we might get a hit off the mail slot or door.” He leaned toward the coffee table and grabbed the mug of coffee that Paige had offered him upon arrival. He took a sip. “In the meantime, Mr. Collier, I’d suggest lying low. A death threat is nothing to take lightly.”
    “You haven’t found Shelby yet, I take it?” he asked.
    “No. No sign of her or the murder weapon. We went through her brownstone with a fine-toothed comb. Funny, but it doesn’t appear to be lived in.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It must not be her permanent residence. There’s no homey feeling. It’s sparsely furnished. You probably weren’t there long enough to notice, but there are no photos anywhere in the house. The kitchen has no pots or pans in the cupboards. No food in the refrigerator. The liquor cabinet is stocked, however. And there are clothes hanging in the closet of the bedroom we assume to be hers.”
    “What type of clothes?” Briony asked.
    “Dresses, shoes, hats, nylon stockings…female clothing.”
    “But what style?” she persisted. “Dressy, casual, expensive, plain?”
    His gaze was direct. “A lot of the stuff looked like it belonged to a street walker, if you want my honest opinion.”
    Paige gasped. “Is that what she is, Daniel?”
    “Of course not,” he snapped. “Briony met her. She wasn’t dressed anything like a…a…that type of woman.”
    Montague went on. “My people found makeup and perfume bottles and lipsticks on the vanity table. We also discovered cocaine hidden in her underwear drawer. If and when we find Shelby Dark, she’ll be brought up on a narcotics charge.”
    Daniel