Days of Wine and Roquefort (Cheese Shop Mystery) by Avery Aames Page B

closer. Mud clung to her boots. That must have been the marshy smell I detected when I first entered. Had she gone to Kindred Creek for her hike? Had someone seen her and tailed her to my house? Her ex-boyfriend, perhaps. She could have been wrong about him. He could have returned to Providence. What could he have been searching for? Noelle’s last words were
hell’s key.
What had she been trying to tell me?

CHAPTER

4

    “We don’t want to leave you, Aunt Charlotte.” Amy threw her arms around my waist.
    My nieces, Meredith, and I stood on the patio outside the kitchen. The cool night air cut through my trousers; sorrow pierced my heart. I tucked a strand of Amy’s hair behind her ear. “I know, sweetheart, but it’s time to go. This is adult stuff.”
    “Please don’t make us.” Clair held her hands in prayerful supplication to her chest. “You aren’t safe.”
    Like they could do anything to protect me. I forced a smile. “Of course I am. With all these police around, I’ll be fine.”
    Chief of police Umberto Urso and his deputies had arrived minutes ago. After I offered a quick recap of finding Noelle, they cordoned off the garage and ordered us to the patio. At the moment, they were photographing the crime scene. Occasional flashes of light flared through the garage windows. With each spark, my breath snagged in my chest.
    A Ford Explorer tore into the driveway and screeched to a halt. My cousin Matthew bolted from the SUV and dashed up the driveway. His face was flushed; his eyes, moist. Meredith hurried to him. They hugged for a lengthy moment and exchanged supportive kisses. Then Matthew jogged to his twins and crouched to meet them at eye level. He took hold of both of their hands. “Meredith is going to take you home.”
    “What about rehearsal?” Amy said.
    So much for the twins wanting to be my bodyguard.
    “Delilah and Grandmère understand.” Matthew looked up at me. “They’re so sorry to hear about . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them slowly. “It’s all my fault. I encouraged Noelle to come here. To take the job. If she’d stayed in Cleveland or taken any of the other opportunities . . . ” His voice was ragged, his words running together.
    “Matthew Bessette, you cannot think that way,” Meredith said, then added, “Girls, let’s go.”
    Matthew swallowed hard. “I’m staying to see if I can help in any way.”
    Meredith traced a loving finger along the back of his neck and herded the girls away.
    “Charlotte.” Urso, a mountain of a man who looked even taller with his police hat atop his head, appeared at the door to the garage and beckoned me. The chief, who was a lifelong friend, would ask for my initial reaction, although I was pretty certain he wouldn’t tolerate much more than that. He didn’t like when I butted into his investigations. On the other hand, Noelle had died on my property. In my garage. While working on my renovation project. Not to mention that I liked her—
had
liked her
—
a lot. I had envisioned inviting her to girls’ night out and family dinners.
    I hurried toward him.
    Matthew caught up with me and whispered, “How, Charlotte? Why?”
    I shook my head; I had no answers.
    As we entered the garage, Urso regarded Matthew with suspicion. “Matthew, I don’t think you should—”
    “She was my friend, U-ey.”
    Urso bridled. Pals called him U-ey because of the double U in his name. He hated the nickname, but it had stuck for life.
    “She was also my”—Matthew slicked his tongue beneath his lip—“my . . . my . . .”
    Tears flooded his eyes. They filled mine, too. I threw my arms around him for support. Someone had died. Not any someone. Matthew’s friend and close business associate.
    We remained in the embrace for a very long moment. When both of us regained our composure, I pressed away from him. “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah.”
    He was lying; his skin had turned alabaster white.
    I urged him toward