Page 52 of Evidence of a Folktale

“Very.”

“More handsome than that dreamy Beau Draven. You can be honest, it’s just us girls.”

“Yes, he is. Taller too. By a lot.”

“Oooo, I could forgive a man’s reclusiveness if he was tall and handsome.”

“It does work in his favor.”

“You love him,” the woman said. “I see it on your face. You light up talking about him… okay, I’ll stop grilling you about your love life. Sorry, it’s a side effect of running this inn. Everyone loves to chat with granny about their lives, and it’s turned me into a busybody.”

“It’s fine,” Bel said, remembering Vera when she first moved to Bajka. Alcina, the witch murdering the townsfolk, had masqueraded as her elderly neighbor, but before Bel knew the truth, she’d enjoyed the grandmotherly affection. “I don’t mind.”

“Of course you don’t. No one ever minds talking about beautiful men.” The innkeeper turned back to the monitors. “Okay, Miss Roja returned from the shoot last night at 9:38 p.m. She’d been gone for over twelve hours.”

“What floor was she staying on?” Bel asked.

“The third.”

“So she couldn’t have jumped out the window to avoid being seen?”

“Not unless she wanted a broken ankle. It’s a straight drop.”

“Can you fast-forward the footage? She ended up in the woods, so she must’ve left the inn at some point.”

“Sure, let me know if you spot her…is that her? Oh, no… um… wait. There. That’s her, right?” The innkeeper pointed to a woman exiting the front door at 11:54 p.m. The figure was bundled up, but the build looked familiar.

“Do you ever see her face?”

“Not with the indoor cameras. She had her hood up, and she’s on the phone.”

“What about the parking lot’s view?”

The innkeeper switched the footage, and they watched the woman pause to speak to the squad car stationed outside and then disappear down the street. She never looked at the camera, but as she vacated the property, she twisted sideways long enough for Bel to confirm that it was indeed Miss Roja leaving alone in the middle of the night.

“I can’t tell if that’s her,” the innkeeper said.

“It’s her… do you mind?” Bel gestured for the controls, and the woman relinquished them. “There. You can see her profile for a few seconds. That’s her. She leaves just before midnight, and based on her time of death, I don’t think she ever comes back.” Bel fast-forwarded to confirm, but her guess was right. Ellery Roja never returned.

“Oh, I feel awful,” the innkeeper whispered. “This is the last time she was alive, and I just let her walk out of my inn.”

“This isn’t on you,” Bel said. “I wonder why she left so late, though?” She rewound the tape. “She doesn’t look nervous or under duress. And she waves at the officer before chatting with him… who’s in that squad car?” She paused the video and leaned closer to the monitor, Rollo’s handsome features barely visible through the darkness. “Right. I think that’s all I need from last night. Can I get a copy?”

“Sure. I’ll email it to you.”

“Awesome. Here’s my contact information.” Bel slid her card across the desk. “Before I go, can you rewind to the night Rossa died?” She gave her the date.

“Sure.” The woman obliged her, but Gwen Rossa never returned to the bed-and-breakfast before her death, making it significantly harder to trace the writer’s final hours. At least they could track most of Roja’s movements. She’d been alone in her room until something forced her to leave. She’d been on the phone when she departed the inn, so maybe the killer lured her out with either friendship or a threat.

“Of course.” The innkeeper gestured for her to follow, and they climbed the carpeted stairs together. Bel examined Roja’s room before moving on to Rossa’s, but there was little to see besides luggage and script pages. The victim’s computers had already been turned over to the police by their assistants, so the dirty undergarments and half-used toothpaste tubed held no earth-shattering secrets.

“Thank you so much for your help,” Bel said when the women returned to the first floor.

“Of course. I’ll let you know if any of my staff saw that man.”

“Thank you. Have a good one.” Bel waved over her shoulder, holding the front door open as Taron Monroe blew into the lobby. The show’s main actress was somehow even prettier up close, but it wasn’t her beauty that struck Bel. It was her scowl. She glared at her as they passed, and Bel reeled back to avoid the disdain. What had she done to deserve such disgust?

She watched Miss Monroe disappear up the stairs with her assistant, and shaking off the encounter, she dialed her boss. “Sheriff, can you do me a favor and request a warrant for the victims' phone records?” she asked when he picked up. “Ellery Roja left the bed-and-breakfast last night a few minutes before midnight, and she was on the phone. What if the killer called to lure her outside?”

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