by Morgana Best
Aunt Agnes frowned. “Did he say how he would have your business shut down?”
Joyce shook her head.
“Did he give you any hints at all?” Aunt Agnes persisted.
Joyce continued to shake her head. “No, but I believed him. I knew he meant it. I could just tell. He wasn’t a nice man, but I think he was capable of quite a lot and not in a good way.”
I wondered about Ethelbert Jones. He was a powerful man. Could he have been working for The Other? Could a spy for The Other have actually been in our cottage, and someone murdered him? What if his wife had murdered him for mundane reasons and didn’t know he was working for The Other?”
I shook my head to clear it. No, that seemed unnecessarily convoluted. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that Joyce was a killer or that she was working for The Other. Then again, whoever was working for The Other was someone we didn’t suspect, that was for certain.
Chapter 14
I had asked Linda to come over. The aunts thought it best if Linda and I questioned Mrs Mumbles, because it wouldn’t do to get around town that Agnes and I were questioning everyone.
Linda and I were sitting in the kitchen with the aunts. “Do you think his wife did it?” Linda asked us.
We gave her blank looks. “She inherits everything and she is awfully money hungry,” I said, “but if she was the murderer, then why didn’t she murder him years ago?”
“More to the point, why didn’t he murder her?” Dorothy said. “She has to be one of the most irritating women I’ve ever met, present company excepted.”
Aunt Agnes glared at her, but mercifully did not respond.
“She’s penny-pinching and demanding,” I told Linda. “She insisted we supply different cereal and she’s been making all sorts of demands since she got here.”
“That’s enough talk now,” Agnes said. “Why don’t you two go and question Mrs Mumbles now?”
“But what will we ask her?” I said. “What if she gets angry with us?”
Aunt Agnes waved one hand in dismissal. “Cross that bridge when you come to it. Besides, Linda is actually good with people. She is a Shifter.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Linda asked. She was clearly puzzled.
Aunt Agnes simply shrugged. “Why don’t you pretend that the police suspect me and say you’re asking Mrs Mumbles for help. Ask her to tell you everything she knows about Ethelbert Jones. After all, they were both in the orchid club together. “
I didn’t like it, but I never liked any of the aunts’ schemes. I stood up. “All right, let’s get this over with, Linda, and then we could have coffee and cake in town for something to look forward to.”
“Sounds good to me,” Linda said. “Where’s Breena? I haven’t seen her since I got here.”
“She’s asleep under the tomato bushes in the vegetable garden,” Aunt Dorothy said. “She was trying to catch a mouse earlier.”
“I hope the boarder doesn’t see her,” Linda said.
The boarder had already seen her, but I thought it best not mention that now. I’d tell Linda later. We walked out the kitchen door and skirted around to the front of the manor. As we reached Aunt Agnes’s car, Euphemia Jones hurried over to me, waving her handbag. “Where do you serve lunch?”
I shook my head. “We’re not a restaurant, we’re a Bed and Breakfast.”
“But you don’t serve breakfast,” she complained.
“You have fruit baskets and cereal and any type of milk, dairy or plant, in the fridge in your cottage,” I told her.
“Where am I supposed to get something to eat?” she said.
“Didn’t you get something when we took you into town earlier?” I asked her.
She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t think this is very good treatment.” She looked Linda up and down. “Are you a boarder here?” Before Linda had a chance to answer, she said loudly, “I’ll have you know, my husband was murdered in one of the cottages.”
“So was mine,” Linda said.
With that, we hopped in the car and drove away, leaving an open mouthed Euphemia Jones in our wake.
We parked in the car park at the orchid show and sat for a few minutes, deciding what to say. We didn’t come up with anything at all. “Why don’t we wing it,” Linda said.
“I suppose we don’t have a choice,” I said. “I don’t know what else we can do.”
It was something of letdown to discover Mrs Mumbles was not at the orchid show.
“All that way on that horrid road for no reason,” Linda lamented.
When we reached the plant nursery, I turned to Linda. “I hope she’s here, or this will all be one big wild goose chase.”
Mrs Mumbles was in fact at the plant nursery, and what’s more, she looked pleased to see us, much to my surprise. She waved her pruning shears and walked over to us. “Imagine seeing you again so soon,” she called out.
When she was a few steps away, she tripped, and landed on me hard. I fell backwards with Mrs Mumbles on top of me. The pruning shears were lying against my head.
Mrs Mumbles jumped to her feet and helped me up. “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed. “It’s these wretched pavers! Are you hurt?”
I shook my head and dusted myself off. It took me a moment to gather my senses. Had she just taken some of my hair? “I didn’t know if you’d be here or at the orchid show,” I said, doing my best to act normal.
“I was too upset to go back to the show after what happened to Ethelbert Jones, although he was an unpleasant man. His death tainted the orchid show. Don’t you agree?”
I had no idea whether or not I agreed, but I simply said, “Yes. Actually, that’s why we’re here,” I added, pulling a sad face. “This is just between us and please don’t let this go any further, but the police suspect Aunt Agnes.”
Mrs Mumbles’ hand flew to her throat. “My goodness gracious me. Why would they suspect your aunt?”
“Because she found the body,” I said, “and they don’t have any other suspects.”
Mrs Mumbles snorted rudely. “No other suspects? That’s ridiculous! If they had come to see me, I could give them a list of suspects.”
“You could?” Linda said.
Mrs Mumbles’ face flushed red. “I was exaggerating, but they should at least look at Alec Aldon.”
“And Joyce Batson, the antique dealer?” I prompted her.
“How did you know about Joyce?”
“Alec Aldon mentioned that she had been ripped off by Ethelbert Jones,” I told her.
She snorted once again. “He’s only trying to throw suspicion off himself. He is a most unpleasant man.”
I myself had never found Alec Aldon unpleasant. Quiet and creepy, maybe, but certainly not unpleasant. Once more, I nodded. “And what about Killian Cosgrove?”
She snapped to attention. “Killian? What could he possibly have against Ethelbert Jones? I’ve always thought the two of them were firm friends.”
I filed her reaction away for further notice. “You told us people saw the victim putting mealy bugs on Killian’s orchids the night before the show.”
She made a noise that sounded half way between a grunt and a cough. “And you think Killian wanted revenge? Of course not. I was simply warning you of the malicious gossip going around town. I know Killian, and he wouldn’t resort to those tactics even if he did have a grudge against Ethelbert Jones, which he clearly didn’t.” Her tone was firm.
“Who do you think did it?” I asked, but I realised she would blame Alec Aldon, and sure enough, she did.
“Alec,” she spat. “It was all because of that vintage car. That car cost a fortune and he was completely ripped off. If I were you, I would tell the police to stop looking at your aunt and turn their attention to Alec Aldon. I’m sure it was him. In fact, I couldn’t be more certain.”
“I wonder if you have any idea how we could get evidence against him?” I said, playing along. Maybe it was Alec, and maybe it wasn
’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe it was Mrs Mumbles, but I could hardly come out and ask her about her secret lover.
“Perhaps you could just tell the police and they could look into him,” she said, a remark which was no help at all.
“Obviously the police are not doing their job or they would have found out about Alec Aldon for themselves,” I told her. “How long ago was this whole car business?”
“Quite recently,” she said. “I believe it was only five or so weeks ago that he found out the car had been in an accident. Why don’t you go and ask Alec himself?”
“But then he would know we suspected him,” I told her, “and if he was the murderer, then it wouldn’t do to question him, now would it?”
She seemed nervous and shifted from one foot to another. I wondered if she could possibly be the killer. I decided to risk a question. “I’ve heard word around town that Ethelbert Jones was blackmailing people.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O before she shut it firmly. “I’m sure that’s just idle gossip,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “I don’t believe any of it. It’s just the sort of malicious gossip that goes around these small towns.”
“But if he was blackmailing someone, then that would be surely a motive for murder,” Linda said.
Mrs Mumbles looked off into the distance. “Perhaps. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to attend to a customer.” She headed over to a man who was staring at standard roses. The man didn’t look like he wanted any help.
I took Linda’s arm and hurried her to the car. I was approaching the front door to the building when someone darted around the corner, knocking me into the wall.
“Are you all right?” Linda asked me.
“Did you see who it was?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “It all happened so fast, and I was ahead of you. People can be so rude these days!”
“What did you think of Mrs Mumbles?” I asked when we were in the car and driving into town.
“I thought she reacted strangely when you mentioned Killian Cosgrove, and she also reacted strangely when you mentioned blackmail.”
I nodded. “That’s exactly what I thought. And don’t forget, Alec Aldon told us yesterday that Ethelbert Jones was blackmailing Mrs Mumbles because she had a married lover. And, of course, Mrs Mumbles herself is married.”
“She was quite insistent Killian Cosgrove wasn’t the killer,” Linda said. “I found that suspicious.”
“I wonder if she’s having an affair with Killian Cosgrove,” I said. “That would fit. He is married.”
Linda agreed. “Still, we probably need to ask around or watch her to see if she’s having an affair with someone else. Maybe it’s with Killian Cosgrove’s brother.”
I looked across at Linda. “He has a brother?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. I just meant you should not focus on Killian Cosgrove being her lover just simply because she said he couldn’t be the killer. Maybe they’re just good friends. I think we need to look around further and discover the identity of her lover. Blackmail is surely a good motive for murder.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Now let’s get coffee and cake.”
We drove to a little coffee shop, one by the water where the whale watching boats docked, and were lucky enough to get a park. Usually, I had to circle the block about five times and even then sometimes wasn’t able to find a parking spot.
It had been a seriously hot day, but the sea breeze was picking up and another thunderstorm was coming in. I wondered what my parents were doing and wondered when I would see them again. Of course, I couldn’t tell Linda about my parents. She looked at me as we sat down at the café and said, “Are you all right? You seem distracted. Is everything okay between you and Lucas?”
“It’s fine,” I said automatically. “It’s just that being kidnapped by Weston Maxwell was a horrible shock.”
“It would be a terrible shock,” she said. “You’re doing better than I would have been doing after that. It must have been traumatic. You probably need counselling.”
I laughed. “Sure. I’ll just go to a therapist and tell them that I was kidnapped by a vampire, and then they’ll have me committed.”
Linda laughed too, but then her expression turned sombre. “I’m not cut out for all this sleuthing business. Speaking to Mrs Mumbles made me quite nervous.”
“Well, you’re a Shifter wolf,” I said, lowering my voice, “so did you get any psychic vibes or wolf vibes or anything like that?”
Linda chuckled. “It doesn’t work like that. Anyway, what would you like? I’m paying.”
“Just my usual coffee and one of those pink cupcakes, please.”
As Linda walked away, I looked idly out on the street. I gasped. Surely those weren’t my parents walking in public in the full light of day?
I took another look and it was another couple entirely. I rubbed my temples hard. I had to get a grip. Linda had already noticed I wasn’t my usual self.
I knew I was being watched by a spy for The Other, someone who had been watching my aunts for years. That person had to be close to us. I didn’t believe it was Breena, but I had to accept the possibility, sad to say, but who else could it be? Mrs Mumbles and Alec Aldon had been living in town for years. Neither knew Aunt Agnes well. Also, there was the fact that Alec Aldon had been a neighbour of Beckett Maxwell’s. That only left Joyce Batson who, being an antique dealer, had close contact with Aunt Agnes over the years.
Chapter 15
“Are you sure about this?” Linda asked me.
“Not entirely,” I said, “but I think we should have a chat with Alec Aldon. Today’s show was only in the morning so he should be home by now. We both found him creepy.”
“Lots of creepy people aren’t murderers,” she pointed out.
“Look, I just want to get this over with,” I told her. “Aunt Agnes and I have spoken to Joyce Batson and we’ve just spoken to Mrs Mumbles. Neither of us know Killian Cosgrove, so that leaves Alec Aldon.”
“There’s the wife as well,” Linda said.
“I haven’t forgotten her,” I said, “but she’s at the cottage, so we can question her any time. The only suspects we haven’t spoken to are Killian Cosgrove and Alec Aldon. I think we should drive out to Alec’s and say sorry to bother him and all that and use the same excuse we used for Mrs Mumbles.”
Linda sighed. “Okay. What’s the worst that can happen? He could whisper us to death.”
Linda didn’t know I was looking for the spy for The Other as well as for the murderer of Ethelbert Jones. I had no idea of whether or not they were different people. I also wasn’t sure whether or not Mrs Mumbles had tried to take a hair sample from me. I would be on the alert to see if Alec Aldon did. My stomach was churning and I was at a loose end. Knowing my parents were so close when I had barely seen them in five years was doing my head in. I was restless and couldn’t sit around at the manor twiddling my thumbs. No, I had to act.
I handed Linda my phone. “Can you text Aunt Agnes and tell her what we’re doing?”
“What if she doesn’t like it?” Linda said.
“As they say, it is better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission.”
“What will I say?” Linda said.
“Just say you and I are going out to Alec Aldon’s to see what he knows about the victim.”
Linda texted away and then dropped my phone back into the cup holder. Only moments later, my phone rang. I pressed the button on the Bluetooth.
“Valkyrie, come home right now,” Aunt Agnes said in strident tones.
“We’re just pulling up outside his house now,” I exaggerated. “If he looks out the window, he’ll think it strange that I’ve stopped outside his house and then turned around.”
“Well be careful, Valkyrie, and text me or call me the second you leave so I won’t have to send in reinforcements.”
I duly promised, and then continued on the further five kilometres to Alec Aldon’s house.
“Do you think we could be in danger from him?” Linda asked me.
“Well, if he’s a murderer. I suppose we could be,” I said. I could hardly tell Linda that I might be in danger from the spy for The Other, though it was clear to me that the spy was trying to track my parents.
Just then, an awful thought hit me. What if the spy for The Other kidnapped me to swap with my parents? I broke out into a cold sweat.
“I don’t like him,” Linda said.
“Who?” I said with a start.
“Well, Alec Aldon, of course,” she said. “I find him creepy.”
“Perhaps he’s a Shifter,” I said.
I sensed Linda tense beside me. “What? You find Shifters creepy?”
I hurried to reassure her. “No, no, no. What I meant was, you’re a Shifter, so you might sense something paranormal about him. You might translate that as being creepy. Does that make sense?”
Linda hesitated for a while before saying, “I see. Yes, that makes sense.”
“Well, do you think he’s Shifter?” I prompted her.
“It’s not as if we can always tell, as you know,” she said. “Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. There is just something creepy about him. Did your aunts think he was a vampire?”
“They didn’t have a clue,” I said. “And Alec was the one who tipped me off to Weston Maxwell being the murderer only a few days ago. He was quite helpful.”
“But that’s got nothing to do with Ethelbert Jones’s death, surely,” Linda said.
“No.” I would have to be more careful and think before I spoke. I had nearly let on to Linda that I was also looking for someone involved with The Other, not just the killer of Ethelbert James. But then again, Alec had been to the house just before Ethelbert Jones arrived. Maybe he had come to the house on the pretext simply so he could see if Ethelbert Jones was already there.
I remarked on this to Linda.
“We will have to be quite careful then,” she said. “Pepper, is it too late to turn around and go back?”
“Look, we’ve driven all this way so we might as well get it over with,” I said. “At least it’s broad daylight.”