Read Online Blackvine Manor Mystery by Wendy Meadows - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Wendy Meadows
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the photographs.
Alexis sits back on the couch, ignoring Maxwell’s continued pounding, and gives Otto a moment to look at the photographs. She can tell he is biting the inside of his cheek, willing himself not to react—until he reaches the fourth photograph and tears suddenly spring to his eyes. She knows it’s a close up of Delia, a scandalized smile on her mouth as he has pulled her onto his lap and is grinning at the camera.
“I notice you don’t have any pictures of her anywhere,” Alexis realizes. “I’m sorry, this must be hard for you.”
“Hard? A week after I reported her missing we packed up every piece of her. Every indication of her was gone and I still expected her to walk through the door. I still heard her footsteps on the stairs.”
“So that is Delia?”
Otto flips to the next photograph. “Yes. Look, here’s her handwriting.”
She stands up and looks at the photograph he’s handed her. The handwriting matches the letter Fenton received while in jail. “Who are the other people here?”
“The Maxwells; at least her mother and brothers. Her father never liked me much. Haven’t seem them since. Their namesake doesn’t even know that side of the family.”
Alexis looks at the photograph closer. “So that’s her brother?”
Otto looks up. “Yes, why?”
“He’s trying to buy the building and demolish it.”
Otto nods. “Must be William. Tell him I say ‘hi.’ Now it’s about time you answer one of my questions.”
Alexis narrows her eyes. “Okay.”
“Why do you look so much like the woman in this picture?” Otto holds up the 4th of July photograph and points to her mother.
“Why ask that? Is it because she saw what happened to Delia?” Maxwell appears from the back door, the spare key still in his hand. Johnny is on his feet, growling fiendishly, but settles down with one glance from his owner.
Otto laughs. “Always so dramatic, Maxwell. I don’t know who that woman is, except she looks a lot like this lovely here.”
“Liar.” Maxwell comes to stand next to his grandfather’s chair. “Her name is Amelia Tennon. It took me a while to remember, seeing as lots of memories got buried, but I remember her now.”
He takes the photograph from his grandfather and holds it up. “She helped Delia take care of me though it was more than that. They were friends. After Delia disappeared, I just figured she moved on.”
“People move on,” Otto shrugs, tossing the photographs on the tray next to him.
“Not like this.” Maxwell snaps up the photographs and hands them back to Alexis. “If you’ve taught me anything it’s that there is always evidence, always something left behind.”
Otto laughs again, now a dry, sad sound. “Not this time, kid. Delia’s gone and apparently so is this Amelia.”
“What about Collin Fenton?” Alexis speaks up.
“He died in prison, but you two already knew that. I could have you arrested for stealing.”
Maxwell throws the police file down onto the coffee table. “Well, we still have you and you can tell us your story.”
“You’ll never believe it. I can’t prove a word of it,” Otto says, leaning back in his armchair and closing his eyes.
Alexis sits back down. “Try me.”
Part III
Prologue
A LEXIS SMILES TO HERSELF , SNEAKING up the stairs of Blackvine Manor Apartments like a giddy teenager out past curfew. A quick glance at her watch reveals it’s past 3 a.m. and she shakes her head. Her strange interview with Otto Charles turned into dinner with Maxwell; dinner went long and then they walked. They walked until they found an all-night diner that served real malted milkshakes and time completely disappeared in their comfortable high-backed booth.
Her happy review of the evening ends as abruptly as her footsteps when she sees her neighbor, Doug, backing out of his apartment. His hand is over his mouth but it doesn’t cover up his look of horror. Alexis quietly joins him and all he can do is point inside
Alexis sits back on the couch, ignoring Maxwell’s continued pounding, and gives Otto a moment to look at the photographs. She can tell he is biting the inside of his cheek, willing himself not to react—until he reaches the fourth photograph and tears suddenly spring to his eyes. She knows it’s a close up of Delia, a scandalized smile on her mouth as he has pulled her onto his lap and is grinning at the camera.
“I notice you don’t have any pictures of her anywhere,” Alexis realizes. “I’m sorry, this must be hard for you.”
“Hard? A week after I reported her missing we packed up every piece of her. Every indication of her was gone and I still expected her to walk through the door. I still heard her footsteps on the stairs.”
“So that is Delia?”
Otto flips to the next photograph. “Yes. Look, here’s her handwriting.”
She stands up and looks at the photograph he’s handed her. The handwriting matches the letter Fenton received while in jail. “Who are the other people here?”
“The Maxwells; at least her mother and brothers. Her father never liked me much. Haven’t seem them since. Their namesake doesn’t even know that side of the family.”
Alexis looks at the photograph closer. “So that’s her brother?”
Otto looks up. “Yes, why?”
“He’s trying to buy the building and demolish it.”
Otto nods. “Must be William. Tell him I say ‘hi.’ Now it’s about time you answer one of my questions.”
Alexis narrows her eyes. “Okay.”
“Why do you look so much like the woman in this picture?” Otto holds up the 4th of July photograph and points to her mother.
“Why ask that? Is it because she saw what happened to Delia?” Maxwell appears from the back door, the spare key still in his hand. Johnny is on his feet, growling fiendishly, but settles down with one glance from his owner.
Otto laughs. “Always so dramatic, Maxwell. I don’t know who that woman is, except she looks a lot like this lovely here.”
“Liar.” Maxwell comes to stand next to his grandfather’s chair. “Her name is Amelia Tennon. It took me a while to remember, seeing as lots of memories got buried, but I remember her now.”
He takes the photograph from his grandfather and holds it up. “She helped Delia take care of me though it was more than that. They were friends. After Delia disappeared, I just figured she moved on.”
“People move on,” Otto shrugs, tossing the photographs on the tray next to him.
“Not like this.” Maxwell snaps up the photographs and hands them back to Alexis. “If you’ve taught me anything it’s that there is always evidence, always something left behind.”
Otto laughs again, now a dry, sad sound. “Not this time, kid. Delia’s gone and apparently so is this Amelia.”
“What about Collin Fenton?” Alexis speaks up.
“He died in prison, but you two already knew that. I could have you arrested for stealing.”
Maxwell throws the police file down onto the coffee table. “Well, we still have you and you can tell us your story.”
“You’ll never believe it. I can’t prove a word of it,” Otto says, leaning back in his armchair and closing his eyes.
Alexis sits back down. “Try me.”
Part III
Prologue
A LEXIS SMILES TO HERSELF , SNEAKING up the stairs of Blackvine Manor Apartments like a giddy teenager out past curfew. A quick glance at her watch reveals it’s past 3 a.m. and she shakes her head. Her strange interview with Otto Charles turned into dinner with Maxwell; dinner went long and then they walked. They walked until they found an all-night diner that served real malted milkshakes and time completely disappeared in their comfortable high-backed booth.
Her happy review of the evening ends as abruptly as her footsteps when she sees her neighbor, Doug, backing out of his apartment. His hand is over his mouth but it doesn’t cover up his look of horror. Alexis quietly joins him and all he can do is point inside
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