Murder at the Mena House Read online

  MURDER AT THE MENA HOUSE

  ERICA

  RUTH

  NEUBAUER

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THRITY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2020 by Erica Ruth Neubauer

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019953568

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-2585-1

  First Kensington Hardcover Edition: April 2020

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-2587-5 (e-book)

  ISBN-10: 1-4967-2587-5 (e-book)

  For my Dad.

  I miss you every day, Chief.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Egypt, 1926

  When selecting an exotic location for travel, it’s advisable to choose one where the air isn’t trying to kill you. I would try to remember that for the next time.

  “Jane, you look terrible in this heat. You’re practically dripping.” My aunt Millie’s mouth puckered, but also slipped into a smug little grin at the edges. She looked as fresh as linen off the line, without so much as a glisten.

  I sighed inwardly.

  “I didn’t realize how hot it was still going to be this time of year.” I eyed the long, wide blades of the fans as they turned lazily overhead. I decided they were more for appearance than actually moving any of the heavy air around.

  Millie sniffed and went back to surveying the bar, whiskey highball firmly in hand, lipstick now slightly askew with a matching plum-colored scowl on the rim of the glass. My aunt’s first order of business upon our recent arrival at the Mena House Hotel had been a drink, any drink, as long as it was a step above the bathtub rot being churned out at home.

  Prohibition was my aunt’s archnemesis.

  With Millie sorted out, I excused myself to go in search of a drink of my own. I threaded through the thin crowd to the bar and leaned against the polished wood. It felt good to stand after hours of travel, and I surreptitiously stretched as I waited for my gin rickey.

  Within moments, the young bartender appeared at my elbow with my drink. I hoped the cool lime and refreshing fizz would wash the sandy grit of travel from my mouth. My aunt had barely let us settle into our rooms before bustling me down to the bar.

  It hadn’t even been enough time to catch a glimpse of the Great Pyramids I knew were just outside this hotel.

  I surveyed our fellow travelers at the bar, stopping myself from slugging my drink back in one go. I was more parched than I had thought.

  “Mrs. Wunderly, I presume?” The low, pleasant rumble interrupted my gawking at the scene around me, nearly startling me out of my skin.

  I turned and faced the broad-shouldered owner of the posh British accent that addressed me. As my hazel eyes met dark chocolate ones, a frisson of electricity traveled down my spine before I tamped it down. Hard. Handsome men were not my concern.

  He nearly towered over me, and I was not a small woman by any standard. I eyed him, one eyebrow cocked, wondering how he had discovered my name before any introductions had been made. Perhaps he had some magic at his fingertips. Another shiver tickled my spine.

  “Well, you’ve pulled my name from a hat. Will you be performing any more tricks this evening? Pull a coin from my ear, perhaps? I could use one to pay for this drink, frankly.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up. “Your aunt mentioned you when she introduced herself to me just now.”

  “That was fast,” I muttered, and cursed my inattentiveness. I wasn’t at all surprised that my aunt had sniffed him out and then sent him over—especially once she realized he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Which I cursed myself for noticing also. I was just surprised she had managed to do it so quickly.

  “I’m afraid no further tricks will be forthcoming.”

  “Well, that is a disappointment.”

  “All I can offer you in exchange for your loss is another drink.”

  “I suppose I will have to make do.”

  A full smile lit his already handsome face, and I gave myself a small shake and a stern lecture on the perils of men while he turned and gestured to the bartender. He ordered another gin rickey for me and a glass of water for himself.

  This time, when my drink appeared, it was generously poured. Too generously. I would have to take it slow or I would find myself zozzled and lying beneath a table.

  “Not drinking?” I eyed his water, tiny drops of condensation making their way to the bar from where his long fingers rested on the glass.

  “I had a long day in the sun,” he said. “Sticking with water seems a safer bet.”

  “I see.” I paused and studied him for a moment. “And what line of work are you in, Mr. . . .” I suddenly realized he hadn’t introduced himself.

  “Redvers. Call me Redvers.” He revealed a roguish grin as both of my eyebrows headed north—was that a given name? A surname? It seemed I wasn’t going to get any clarification on that point.

  “And what is it you do . . . Mr. Redvers?”

  “I’m in banking.”

  I’m embarrassed to say I burst out laughing. He looked slightly alarmed, as if he had suddenly come across an unbalanced relative out in public. More than a few heads turned our way.

  “My apologies.” I got hold of myself, mentally kicking myself for my rudeness. “You simply look too dangerous to be a banker.”

  And he did. His suit was of fine linen and perfectly fit his athletic frame. Even my untrained eye could see that it was tailor-made and expensive. His dark hair was slicked in the current style, but the thick waves were giving him a great deal of trouble in taming them. He was all energy and movement. And the wolfish grin he was now giving me, along with the sparkling intelligence in his brown—nearly black—eyes, gave the impression of someone who was most definitely not trapped behind a desk counting money.

  We conti
nued chatting amiably before a brief lull in the conversation prompted me to offer him an out. “You know, Mr. Redvers, if you have other obligations this evening, I very much understand. I know my aunt can be persuasive, but I would hate to keep you.”

  It was his turn to study me. “I admit that it was your aunt’s suggestion that I introduce myself, but I’m quite happy where I am.”

  I shrugged. Against my better judgment, I found myself enjoying his company and didn’t entirely mind prolonging it. But I also didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Even though I was past what society considered my prime, I had done my fair share of shooting down offers since I had been widowed, and depending on the man, they didn’t always take the rejection gracefully. I was not looking for anything outside of a pleasant conversation.

  As I kept reminding myself.

  But Mr. Redvers had a sharp sense of humor—something that I had sorely missed back home. The society circles that Millie moved in were stuffy, to say the least. My father’s family was solidly upper-middle-class, but with Millie’s high society marriage, and then my own at the tender age of twenty, it was impossible to avoid being dragged into the upper echelons of society alongside her. Just the thought of those proper circles made my eyes cross with boredom.

  Redvers’ eyes caught on something behind my shoulder, and he suddenly looked apologetic. “But I’m afraid I do need to excuse myself for a moment. I shall return shortly.”

  I raised my eyebrows, but excused him gracefully. I wondered what—or who—could have called him away as soon as he had announced he was staying.

  I returned to my perusal of the room.

  Within moments, I felt a presence behind me and turned to find a moustachioed gentleman, leaning on a wooden cane. As he readjusted his broad hands, I caught a glimpse of the brass lion head perched on top of the dark mahogany stick. It looked both fierce and substantial.

  “Good evening, my dear.” He smiled graciously. “Having any luck getting a refreshment?”

  I smiled at him, immediately put at ease by his demeanor. “I’m all set for the present, but the bartender has been quite attentive.”

  “Excellent.” He caught the young man’s eye. “A sherry, if you would.” He turned to me, extending his hand. “Colonel Justice Stainton, at your service.” His clipped British vowels and upright bearing would have given away his military background, even if his title hadn’t.

  “Jane Wunderly.” I gave his hand a firm shake. His gentle blue eyes widened slightly at my grip, and my smile widened in response.

  He cleared his throat. “What brings you to the Mena House, Miss Wunderly?”

  According to social mores, the proper address would have been Mrs., but I didn’t bother to correct him. I would rather eat hot coals than discuss my widowed status with friends, let alone perfect strangers. And I was tired of facing the pity that comes with losing one’s husband in the Great War. Of course, even more dreaded were the questions from people whose false concern masked their desire for proximity to drama. I didn’t get that sense from the colonel, but sleeping dogs and all that.

  “My aunt and I are traveling together.” I gestured with my free hand to Millie, who took no notice of me, but appeared quite pleased now that her hand was holding a full drink again. Quality liquor and a warm climate had been Millie’s only two requirements when she had suggested that I accompany her on a trip—at her expense, no less. And while I also relished the idea of enjoying some gin without the threat of going blind, I was beyond thrilled to fulfill a lifelong dream to see the pyramids. “And yourself?”

  “I wanted to show my daughter, Anna, that there was more to the world than parties in London and young men with money.” A wry smile curled the edges of his bottlebrush moustache as he nodded in Anna’s direction where she stood nursing a drink, eyeing the crowd.

  Her brassy blond bob glowed in the gentle bar light, although it had that brittle quality that comes with too many applications of peroxide. Her boyish figure was perfectly suited to display the current fashions. Even from a distance, I could see that the young lady’s heavily beaded—and short—navy blue dress was nothing short of couture.

  Looking her over, I had to admit to a small stab of jealousy. My figure was far more suited to an era that appreciated padded curves—it’s been mentioned by Millie (more than once) that perhaps I should consider one of the lightweight corsets to bring my curves into a more fashionable line. The current trend in drop-waist dresses looked terrible on anyone who was not built like a lollipop—or willing to constrict themselves into the shape of one.

  I enjoyed breathing far too much to try.

  I turned back to the colonel and returned his smile. “She’s lovely.” His face lit with pride. “And rich young men are better than the alternative, I suppose.” He chuckled, and our small talk quickly turned to our mutual interest in local historical sites and current digs.

  “I’m happy to share with you what I know about the area.” The colonel’s eyes danced. “We’ve been here for several weeks already, and I was stationed nearby during the war. Were you planning to do some touring soon? It would be my pleasure to offer my services to you and your aunt.”

  “I was planning on giving myself a day or two to get acclimated to the heat and then take a tour with a local guide.” As anxious as I was to see the pyramids, I knew that I would enjoy them more if I gave myself a chance to get used to the weather first. “But I would love to take you up on your offer. It’s very kind of you.”

  “Excellent. Let’s plan on it, then.” His gaze drifted over my shoulder and his left eye twitched ever so slightly.

  I turned my head and quickly located the source of his irritation. Anna had found a group of three fashionably dressed young men of varying degrees of attractiveness. Her giggles carried down the bar like brittle bubbles, breaking over us as the gentlemen jostled each other for her attention. The tallest of the bunch bent to light her cigarette, and I could see her fluttering her lashes.

  “If you will excuse me, Miss Wunderly.” I smiled graciously as the colonel moved down the bar toward Anna.

  A voice rumbled in my ear almost immediately. “Hello again.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  I had been entirely caught up in the scene Anna was creating and was startled once more. Hand to my heart, I turned to find that Redvers, true to his word, had returned.

  “Are you certain you’re not a magician? That was an excellent reappearing trick.”

  “Simply the gift of stealth.”

  “I’ve known tigers with less stealth than you, then.”

  “And you’re acquainted with many tigers?”

  “Only my fair share.”

  Redvers paused for a moment, glancing down the bar. “Who were you chatting with?”

  “Colonel Stainton. He introduced himself.” I studied Redvers for a moment, but his face remained impassive. It seemed entirely too convenient that Redvers had disappeared when he saw the colonel coming, and reappeared just as quickly. But what reason could he have for avoiding the man? With a mental shrug, I went on to explain what I had told the colonel about our recent arrival and travel plans, and soon found myself once again discussing my interest in archeology and its modern relevance.

  It wasn’t long before our polite discussion dissolved into a heated debate of the current political climate and I was taking pointed jabs at the British.

  “But don’t you admit that the continued occupation of this country is outrageous? They declared sovereignty three years ago, but the British government is still running interference.”

  Redvers laughed. “That seems awfully hypocritical coming from an American. Do you know how many colonies you have? Besides, without our interference, the current system may well collapse entirely.”

  He made an excellent point. My own position was largely due to naiveté about nuanced world politics, so I changed courses. “Is that why you’re here? To bring a better banking system?”

  “Oh, my. You
’re a banker? Does that mean you have a lot of money outside the bank as well?” Damn the man, I had failed to notice that I was being flanked—this time by Anna Stainton herself. I was annoyed at the interruption, but managed to smooth my face into a pleasant smile long before she bothered to flick a glance my way. Redvers, much too observant, caught me and seemed amused.

  “Well, it’s not as simple as that.” He turned to face Anna fully. “Miss Stainton, I presume?”

  “Oh, please call me Anna.”

  She put her hand on his arm and I just barely managed to keep my eyes from rolling. Instead, I turned back to the bar to ask for a glass of water. Two large fizzy drinks had obviously played havoc with my self-control, and it was time to get my equilibrium back. As Anna continued to coo questions in Redvers’ direction, I considered excusing myself. I was not going to fight for a man’s attention—any man. But I especially did not want to battle with a woman nearly ten years younger than I, and obviously on the hunt.

  Farther down the bar, I spotted a caramel-skinned man wearing a pristine white linen suit. He was now staring in our direction, and for a moment, I worried that I was the object of his intense gaze.

  Then I realized it was Anna’s back he was burning holes in.

  I turned to ask whether either of my companions knew the man when I felt a sudden deluge of cold liquid down the front of my dress, and heard the tinkle of a few stray ice cubes fall at my feet. I sighed as I looked down at my now-soaked chest.

  It was no accident. I had seen Anna’s hand tip her glass while she watched me out of the corner of her eye. In fact, it was quite a feat as I stood nearly a head taller, and yet she managed to hit me directly in the chest. My initial shock turned briefly to rage, and just as quickly, I tamped it down. I refused to be upset by this young woman. In fact, I almost had to admire her—it was a very efficient way to rid herself of competition for Redvers’ attention. He was, after all, the most attractive man in the room.