Death Waits in the Dark
PRAISE FOR
THE WRITER’S APPRENTICE MYSTERIES
“What’s not to love? Writing that flows beautifully, suspense that builds slowly and almost unbearably, and a setting that is perfectly beautiful and mysterious, yet also menacing.”
—Miranda James, New York Times bestselling author of the Cat in the Stacks Mysteries
“A traditional mystery reader’s dream. A Dark and Stormy Murder has it all: plenty of action, a dash of romance, and lots of heart.”
—Julie Hyzy, New York Times bestselling author of the White House Chef Mysteries
“An engaging cozy with a touch of Gothic, A Dark and Stormy Murder is a not-to-be-missed page-turner. Bring on book two in this charming series!”
—Terrie Farley Moran, Agatha Award–winning author of the Read ’Em and Eat Mysteries
“Death in Dark Blue is the second wonderfully exciting novel in [the] Writer’s Apprentice Mystery series. . . . The writing is excellent, the mystery is well planned and executed, and the characters have careers that pique the imagination and invite the reader to come back and stay for another visit.”
—Open Book Society
“I thoroughly enjoyed this mystery and enjoyed living vicariously through Lena. She lives out every reader or aspiring writer’s dream.”
—Night Owl Reviews
PRAISE FOR
THE UNDERCOVER DISH MYSTERIES
“A delectable concoction of appealing characters and smart sleuthing—and tasty food!”
—Sheila Connolly, New York Times bestselling author of the County Cork Mysteries
“Sweet and highly entertaining, with a cast of fun, quirky characters. . . . Readers are sure to devour this yummy mystery.”
—Sue Ann Jaffarian, national bestselling author of the Ghost of Granny Apples Mysteries and the Odelia Grey Mysteries
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Julia Buckley
Writer’s Apprentice Mysteries
A DARK AND STORMY MURDER
DEATH IN DARK BLUE
A DARK AND TWISTING PATH
DEATH WAITS IN THE DARK
Undercover Dish Mysteries
THE BIG CHILI
CHEDDAR OFF DEAD
PUDDING UP WITH MURDER
BERKLEY PRIME CRIME
Published by Berkley
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
1745 Broadway, New York, NY 10019
Copyright © 2019 by Julia Buckley
Excerpt from Death with a Dark Red Rose copyright © 2019 by Julia Buckley
Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
BERKLEY and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks and BERKLEY PRIME CRIME is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
Ebook ISBN: 9780451491923
First Edition: April 2019
Cover art by Bob Kayhanich
Cover design by Alana Colucci
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
For Daphne du Maurier
Acknowledgments
Thank you first and foremost to Michelle Vega, who has championed this series from day one, and without whom Lena and Camilla would not be finding their way onto bookshelves across the country and beyond. Michelle, I am grateful for your wisdom, grace, and enthusiasm. Thank you for loving the books as much as I do!!
Thanks to Kim Lionetti, fellow Phyllis A. Whitney and Mary Stewart fan. Your insights are always spot-on, and I am grateful to have you as my agent.
Thanks to Karina Thibodeau for lending her name to one of the characters.
Thank you to Nicole Carino Garafolo, Suzi Litwin, Celia Warren Fowler, Kory Bull, Amanda Ciolek, Connie Glad Speters, Nicole Dawson Vickers, Becky Prazak, Barb Louthan, Catherine Lawry, Ann O’Neill Foster, Teresita Valadez, and Chris McCarthy for joining the dialogue about Camilla’s eye color. You will find that the majority won.
Thanks to two Nashville readers, Katie Connolly and Jane Day-Tiller.
Thanks to all of these people for their friendship and support: The entire Rohaly clan—especially my dad, Bill; and my brothers and sisters, Bill, Claudia, Chris, and Linda; and my in-law siblings Ann, Cindy, and Kevin—for reading, coming to signings, and sharing the books around. Thanks to Cashie Rohaly, Evan Yszenga, Billy Rohaly, Erica Ewen, Joey Rohaly, and Pam Connolly for your book launch support. To Karen Kenyon, Karen Owen, Lisa Kelley, and Linda Langford. To Lydia Brauer, Pam Costello, Quinley Costello, Patti Williams, Rachel Jendras Meiner, Kathy O’Brien Gentile and Vivian O’Brien, David Chaudoir, Mark and Ann Marie Andersen, Mia Manansala, Lori Rader-Day, Alli Bax, and Augie and Tracy Aleksy.
Thank you to Jeff, Graham, and Ian Buckley. Thank you to the great Gothic suspense writers to whom I have been dedicating these books; this novel is dedicated to Daphne du Maurier. My wonderful seventh-grade teacher, Cynthia Barnett, used to read us a chapter of Jamaica Inn every day after recess. I think I might have been the only student who merely endured recess so she could get back in to the real fun: a spooky novel about smuggling set on the rocky Cornwall coast. After that first experience, I graduated to other du Maurier books, and by the time I read Rebecca, I knew I was dealing with a storytelling genius.
Contents
Praise for the Writer’s Apprentice Mysteries
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Julia Buckley
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Bestselling Books by Camilla Graham
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Excerpt from Death with a Dark Red Rose
About the Author
Bestselling Books by Camilla Graham:
The Lost Child (1972)
Castle of Disquiet (1973)
Snow in Eden (1974)
Winds of Treachery (1975)
They Came from Calais (1976)
In Spite of Thunder (1978)
Whispers of the Wicked (1979)
Twilight in Daventry (1980)
Stars, Hide Your Fires (1981)
The Torches Burn Bright (1982)
For the Love of Jane (1983)
River of Silence (1985)
A Fine Deceit (1987)
Fall of a Sparrow (1988)
Absent Thee from Felicity (1989)
The Thorny Path (1990)
Betraying Eve (1991)
On London Bridge (1992)
The Silver Birch (1994)
The Tide Rises (1995)
What Dreams May Come (1996)
The Villainous Smile (1998)
Gone by Midnight (1999)
Sapphire Sea (2000)
Beautiful Mankind (2001)
Frost and Fire (2002)
Savage Storm (2003)
The Pen and the Sword (2005)
The Tenth Muse (2006)
Death at Seaside (2008)
Mist of Time (2009)
He Kindly Stopped for Me (2010)
(a four-year hiatus)
Bereft (2015)
The Salzburg Train (2016)
Death on the Danube (2017)
Death at Delphi (in progress)
1
At the risk of appearing melodramatic, I must tell you this: When I met you, I realized there were no other women in the world. Not for me.
—From the correspondence of James Graham and Camilla Easton, 1971
GRAHAM HOUSE WAS a respite from the late-June heat, especially in the air-conditioned office of my collaborator and hero, Camilla Graham. I was there now, sitting on the floor and telling an amused Camilla the story of my first date, which had involved much awkward conversation and an even more awkward attempt at a kiss, and I had reduced Camilla to a giggling fit more than once as the story progressed. It was amusing to both of us to contemplate my fifteen-year-old self, pretending to be a sophisticated woman while being scared to death. Camilla’s German shepherds, pleased to see me at floor level, had immediately demanded petting, and Heathcliff was starting to lean on me as he relaxed into my massage. “Heathcliff, get off! You giant rug. You’re making me hot. You, too, Rochester.” They smiled at me with open, panting mouths, remaining exactly where they were.
Camilla laughed. “You’ve spoiled them, Lena. They get much more attention now that there are two of us in the house—double the walks and the petting. And now that I hired this little local girl to take them out sometimes, they have three devoted mistresses. Clearly they are smug about it.”
I sniffed and looked into the brown eyes of each dog. “What’s in it for me, you guys?”
They had no suggestions. A crash sounded from above us, followed by some loud swearing. “Oh no,” I said. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Camilla stared up at the ceiling, as if trying to see through it. “I hope no one is hurt.”
“I hope the air conditioners are still intact,” I said, perhaps selfishly. Camilla had central air, but somehow it only cooled the ground floor of her big old house. When the heat wave began, Adam Rayburn, Camilla’s steady boyfriend, enlisted the help of a group he called the “Three Amigos,” namely Doug Heller, Sam West, and Cliff Blake, to install window units in the bedrooms upstairs. The younger men had spent a great deal of time together in the last month, and they did in fact seem to function well as a group of three—at least when they were doing “guy” things. At other times they invited me to join them, along with Doug’s girlfriend, Belinda.
“It will be nice to have those window units,” Camilla said. “They should make for better sleeping. Adam assured me that the machines are not loud.”
“It will be wonderful. Up until this last week I never had a problem with the temperature. I slept with the window open and enjoyed the nice breeze. But now the air is just—stagnant. I thought it was always cooler by the lake.”
Camilla nodded. “We mostly have mild summers, but we’ve been prone to heat waves in early July, which begins in just a few days, can you believe it?” She shook her head, apparently marveling at the rapid passage of time. “You’re more of a fall person, aren’t you? You do look a bit like a wilted flower there on the floor.”
“I’ll perk up now that I’m in here. But walking to town this morning wasn’t a good idea. It’s incredibly humid out there.”
We heard loud footsteps descending the stairs, and Doug Heller’s blond head poked into the room. “Camilla, where might I find a toolbox?”
Camilla pointed. “The closet in the kitchen hallway. Bottom shelf.”
“Great, thanks!” he said, darting into the next room.
“Everything okay up there?” Camilla asked.
“Fine,” Doug said. “A minor emergency, but we handled it.”
“You taught me some new swear words,” I called to him, winking at Camilla.
Doug appeared in the doorway, looking slightly guilty. “You heard that? It wasn’t me, anyway, it was Cliff. Something fell on his toe.”
“Oh my gosh! Is he okay?” I asked. The dogs became alert at my tone; their ears stood at attention.
“He’s fine. He’s looking forward to the cold beer Camilla promised.”
“I’m chilling the glasses as we speak,” Camilla said. She stood up behind her desk and moved toward the kitchen. She wore a light summer dress of pale pink and a pair of white sandals. “I’ll go check on them.”
Doug went in with her, and I was left alone with the dogs. “I mean it, you guys, that’s enough petting. I’m too hot to be surrounded by fur.” I gave them each a last pat and then pushed slightly on their flanks. They got the message and ambled over to Camilla’s desk, under which they liked to sleep during the day.
The doorbell rang. I managed to pull myself upright, feeling languid still, and to walk to the entrance hall. I peered through the window to see an elderly woman on the steps, looking like a mirage in the hazy heat; I did not recognize her.
I opened the door. “Hello,” I said.
She studied me for a moment. She was tall and thin, with a halo of white hair. She wore a black cotton dress that draped down to her ankles; it looked severe, almost punishing, considering the temperature. Her hazel eyes were narrowed with a quizzical expression. “I’m here to see Camilla,” she said.
“May I ask your name?” I said. I had no idea if this woman were a friend or a determined fan—Camilla did get unwelcome visitors now and again.
She jutted out her chin. “Tell her it’s Jane Wyland. She knows who I am. But it’s been a long, long time.” She didn’t smile when she said this.
I knew it would be polite to invite her in, but I didn’t want to admit anyone to Camilla’s house unless I knew Camilla wanted them there. “Excuse me for just a moment,” I said. I left the door slightly ajar, so it didn’t seem as if I were closing it in her face, and then I jogged to the kitchen.
Camilla was peering into the freezer, where the glasses were nicely chilled and waiting to be filled with beer. Doug had apparently gone back upstairs. “Lena, can you call up to the boys and ask when they think they’ll be down?”
The boys. This made me smile, but something about the woman at the door distracted me from my amusement. “Yes, I’ll do that. I don’t know if you heard the doorbell, but there’s a woman here to see you.”
She closed the freezer and turned, brows raised. “Oh? Who is it?”
“I don’t know her. She said her name is Jane Wyland.”
Camilla blinked at me. “Jane Wyland? I—my goodness. I haven’t seen that woman in more than forty years.”
“Should I—?”
“I’ll talk to her. Thank you, Lena.”
I lingered near the doorway and heard Camilla greet the visitor in a rather stiff voice. The woman said something, and Camilla said, “Why don’t you come in? We can talk in my study.” And then, in response to a question, “That was Lena. She is my friend and writing collaborator. She lives here with me, actually.”
They were closer now, and I heard the woman named Jane Wyland say, “You probably didn’t think you’d ever hear from me again, did you, Camilla?”
Camilla’s voice was smooth, unru
ffled. “I confess I didn’t imagine our paths would cross, but then again, life has a way of bringing us back to our origins.”
They moved into Camilla’s office, and Camilla closed the door.
A shadow moved on the wall, and I jumped when a pair of hands touched my shoulders. “Hey,” said Sam West.
I turned and whispered, “Hey.”
He leaned in to give me a warm kiss. “Hey,” I said again, appreciatively.
“Why are you whispering?” he asked, smiling at me.
I spoke a bit louder, though still quietly. “Camilla has some woman in there. She hasn’t seen her in decades, and they went in the office and closed the door.”
“Do you think we should call the police?”
I poked him in the chest. “Very funny. But I got a weird vibe. And it’s not like ominous things haven’t happened around here before.”
“That’s for sure.” He looked around the kitchen. “I’m supposed to make sure that beer is in the offing.”
“Oh, right. I’ll help you pour.” We retrieved the chilled glasses from the freezer and I pulled three bottles of Corona from the fridge. As we worked, I asked, “Everything okay up there?”
He was pouring carefully, trying to avoid too much foam. “Your chamber shall be cool and pleasant, my queen.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I just cannot sleep when it’s that hot.”
He took a sip of his drink. “If you were awake, you should have walked down the hill to your boyfriend’s house and told him of your insomnia. He has all sorts of ideas for night activities.”
I laughed. “I spend plenty of nights at Sam House, so I know all about your night activities, and I approve. But when I’m working and staying here, I need the kind of cool you have over there in your gorgeous modern marvel of a house.” Sam had jokingly started referring to his place, right down the bluff from Graham House, as “Sam House,” and those two buildings had become my two residences.
Doug and Cliff came in and practically dove on the refreshments. Sam said, “Do you guys have time to sit for a while?” They nodded, and our group of four moved to Camilla’s sunroom.