‘And living next door to Mr Ainsley hasn’t compromised your marriage?’
‘It’s funny, isn’t it? How passion fades as one gets older and comfort and security seem far more important,’ Violet philosophized. ‘We’ve lived so long this way that it’s as if the three of us are a familial unit. Jim and I still care for each other, of course, but the flames that once existed are now warm embers. He found some love and companionship with Pepper Aviero for a time, and I was happy for him. I still love Tucker and look forward to a future together, doting over grandchildren and tending our garden, and Jim’s happy for us. And Tucker’s just so relieved to have me alive and to finally be able to retire, that having his best buddy living so close that they can drop by each other’s place unannounced and watch the ball game on the TV is the icing on the cake.’
‘The perfect living arrangement for everyone,’ Tish commented.
‘Yes,’ Violet Abercrombie conceded. ‘That’s why I’m so concerned about the police digging around and asking questions about the past. Doing so would only serve to hurt Tucker – and to what purpose?’
‘The purpose of finding a killer. The history you described gives all three of you a very strong motive for wanting Shackleford dead.’
‘I know it does, but we didn’t murder him.’ Violet’s mood turned frantic. ‘Life is good now. Why would any of us wish to ruin that?’
Tish recalled Violet Abercrombie’s comment that she and Tucker had felt like hostages in their own home. ‘Mrs Abercrombie, I’m not privy to the police investigation, but it’s only a matter of time before Sheriff Reade learns about your denied health insurance claim. When he finds out about your history with Shackleford, he’s going to want to question you and Tucker, and probably Jim, too.’
Violet went into a full-on panic.
‘What I can do,’ Tish offered in an attempt to calm the woman, ‘is impart to Sheriff Reade the delicacy of your situation and ask him not to expose the finer details of your friendship with Jim Ainsley if they’re not relevant to the case.’
Violet brought her hands to her mouth and looked as if she might cry. ‘Oh, thank you, Ms Tarragon. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, but, again, I can’t promise anything.’
‘I understand, but it helps to know that you’re in our corner.’
As if by magic, the alarm on Tish’s phone chimed. ‘That would be my chicken.’
‘I’d better leave you to it. I’ve already taken enough of your time. Thank you again, Ms Tarragon.’
Tish replied with a weak smile and watched as Violet Abercrombie returned to the lifestyle center via the courtyard door. Could the woman have murdered Sloane Shackleford? She certainly appeared to be more concerned about her husband learning of what amounted to emotional infidelity than being accused of murder. But was that simply a ruse? Clearly, Violet’s hostage comment belied everything she described about her ideal home life.
Indeed, Violet Abercrombie’s account of her picture-perfect ‘family’ arrangement struck Tish as naïve at best. It was, in Tish’s estimation, extremely unlikely that, during their decades of personal interactions, Tucker never perceived that his best friend’s feelings for Violet might go beyond simple friendship.
Having lost the family home and now working through what should have been his retirement, Tucker Abercrombie experienced additional humiliation when he was forced to rely upon the kindness of said best friend for affordable housing. Had Tucker Abercrombie snapped and murdered Sloane Shackleford – the man ultimately responsible for his current imprisonment – Tish wouldn’t have been the slightest bit surprised.
Conversely, if Jim Ainsley still fostered feelings of love for Violet, witnessing her and Tucker’s marriage grow stronger with each passing day could prove a difficult ordeal. Might Ainsley harbor a grudge against the person whose unadulterated greed delivered the Abercrombies on to his doorstep? And would Ainsley not be doubly embittered when Sloane Shackleford, whose indirect actions drove the inaccessible Violet Abercrombie closer, paradoxically wooed away Ainsley’s sole female companion, Pepper Aviero?
Tish thought about Jim Ainsley, Tucker Abercrombie, their individual circumstances, and also their common bond. Had either man murdered Sloane Shackleford, would they have confessed their crime to Violet? And if they had, how far would she be willing to go to protect them and her perfect world?
As Tish pondered that last question, she recalled the words of Jim Ainsley: I’ll call Violet after our tour. Vi will know what to do. She always does.
TWELVE
The alarm on her phone sounding its second alert, Tish entered the kitchen and walked directly to the stove. Lifting the lid of her oft-used blue enamelware stockpot, she grabbed a stainless-steel skimmer and used it to lift the quartet of roasting hens from the simmering white wine, leek, peppercorn, and herb-infused liquid and on to a platter. Using a fork, Tish pierced one of the chickens in the thigh and pulled away the skin. Despite her worst fears, the meat had been poached to perfection.
Tish gave a happy sigh followed by a tiny ‘Yay,’ but there was no one in the kitchen with whom she could celebrate. A salad spinner of lettuce sat beside the sink, waiting for an application of centrifugal force to separate water from leaves, and, on a nearby counter, hundreds of peeled and deveined shrimp filled a wide-bottomed saucepan filled with water and seasoned with sliced lemon, carrots, and celery in anticipation of receiving a gentle simmer, but the men tending to both vessels were nowhere in sight.
‘Schuyler? Jules?’ Tish’s calls were met with the sound of a fracas just outside the fireproof metal kitchen door.
Throwing her weight against the stainless-steel crash bar, Tish pushed the door outward into an enclosed, concrete-paved area. From somewhere between the trash and recycling dumpsters, the quarrel continued. ‘Get your filthy hands away from me,’ a female voice with a thick Southern drawl shouted.
‘My filthy hands? Yours are covered up to your elbows in blood,’ a second female voice – this one with a slight accent – volleyed.
Tish followed the sound to find Schuyler and Jules holding back Callie Collingsworth and Pepper Aviero, respectively, from engaging in a physical altercation.
‘Ladies. Ladies!’ Schuyler urged as Callie struggled to break free of his clutch.
‘And he’s using that term loosely,’ Jules quipped as he tightened his hold on the writhing fury that was Pepper Aviero.
‘If you don’t stop right now, I’ll be forced to call the police.’
‘I’ve already been asked to speak with the police later today because that old bat called them on me.’ Although she could not gesture toward Callie Collingsworth, it was clear she was the old bat in question.
‘I didn’t call the police on you. You called them on me,’ Callie argued.
‘No, but I wish I had. I know it was you who snuck into Sloane’s backyard and bashed his brains in.’
‘The woman’s obviously delusional,’ Callie remarked to their captors. ‘Don’t you have better things to do than accuse people of murder, Ms Aviero? Shouldn’t you be at home making burritos or chilaquiles or something?’
‘At least men love my chilaquiles,’ Pepper sneered.
‘Really? Sloane told me they were dry and tasteless.’
‘That’s a lie. Sloane loved my chilaquiles.’
‘Sweet baby Jesus, please tell me we’re talking about Mexican food,’ Jules pleaded.
Tish stepped forward. ‘Mrs Collingsworth? Ms Aviero? What’s going on here?’
Pepper pointed a finger at Callie. ‘She murdered Sloane Shackleford so she could inherit his fortune.’
‘Are you to benefit from Mr Shackleford’s death?’ Tish asked Callie Collingsworth.
‘Yes, Sloane’s attorney called me this morning.’
‘Were you aware that he had made you his beneficiary?’
‘Yes … no … I mean, Sloane might have mentioned it a couple of times, but I had no idea he was serious.’
; ‘You liar,’ Pepper seethed. ‘You’ve been widowed twice. Both times your late husband left everything to you. It’s how you’ve earned all your money, isn’t it? You partner up with a wealthy man, get them to sign over their fortune, and then bump them off.’
‘I never killed anyone. One husband died of a stroke while in bed with his personal assistant, and the other died in a car crash while driving over the legal limit.’
‘And Sloane? What did you do to him to get him to sign everything over to you?’ Pepper raged.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know. You’re simply jealous that I get paid for what you give away for free.’
‘You witch! If I give anything away, it’s out of love.’
‘Well, that either means that you’re completely ignorant of your lowly status as a mature woman or you’re just plain old dumb,’ Callie sneered. ‘Either way, how do we know it wasn’t you who snuck back and killed Sloane? You hated Sloane for dumping you, especially after you gave up Jim Ainsley in order to be with him.’
‘Or perhaps it was both of you,’ Tish suggested before Pepper could retaliate.
Pepper, Callie, Jules, and Schuyler all turned to face Tish.
Tish continued, ‘The reason you ladies were contacted by the police is because you were seen together at Sloane’s kitchen door at eleven o’clock yesterday morning. You were both carrying casserole dishes and, shortly after being admitted, a disagreement was overheard by the neighbors. Neither of you were seen leaving the house. So what went on? Why were you there? Who left and when?’
The women instantly relaxed, prompting Jules and Schuyler to release their grips.
‘We were there to make Sloane choose between us,’ Pepper admitted as she shifted her gaze to her feet. ‘It was stupid, really.’
‘We did it because Ms Aviero couldn’t accept that Sloane had thrown her over for me,’ Callie added.
‘And you did it to rub salt into my wounds. But, as things worked out, Sloane picked neither of us.’
Tish glanced at Callie Collingsworth to confirm.
‘All right … yes. However, it was stupid on my part. I knew what Sloane was. I knew what I had with him. It was stupid to try to pin him down. I only demeaned myself in the process.’
‘So, did you leave together?’ Tish asked.
‘Together? Hell, no.’
‘But we did leave at the same time,’ Pepper amended.
Callie Collingsworth grudgingly agreed. ‘I even watched over my shoulder for a time to make sure she didn’t go back to grovel. Of course, that doesn’t mean she didn’t go back later and give him the what-for with the blunt end of a shovel.’
‘It doesn’t mean you didn’t either.’
‘I didn’t. I went home and sat in my yard for a spell before coming here for a swim. Why, you and Mr Davis caught me as I was leaving,’ Callie said to Tish.
Tish nodded and looked at Pepper. ‘And you?’
‘I went home, flung myself on my bed, and cried. Then I ate a pint of chocolate ice cream before pulling myself together and taking a walk. That’s when Jim called me with the news.’
‘And what time, approximately, did you both leave?’
‘How should I know?’ Callie challenged. ‘It’s not like I was looking at my watch. Ms Aviero should know how long it takes to be dumped. She’s had it happen to her before.’
‘Oh, and having a husband die while in bed with his secretary isn’t the ultimate rejection?’ Pepper volleyed.
After bestowing upon Pepper a look that could slice a woman in half, Callie sighed. ‘Oh, I’d say we were at the house maybe fifteen minutes.’
‘Less,’ Pepper corrected. ‘Ten at the most.’
‘Thank you, ladies,’ Tish stated, glad to have gleaned even some information, given the circumstances.
‘Well,’ huffed Callie, trying to extricate herself from the scene, ‘if you’re through with all the drama, Ms Aviero, I’d best be on my way. I’m meeting a friend in Richmond for an early supper, followed by the theater, and I need to shower, dress, and put my face on.’
‘You should have started an hour ago,’ Pepper said beneath her breath.
‘Keeping it classy, I see,’ Callie dismissed as she dusted Schuyler’s fingerprints off her paisley print scuba dress and opened the kitchen door. ‘Gentlemen, Ms Tarragon, I’d say it’s been real nice, but my mama taught me not to lie. Ciao.’
As the door swung closed behind her, Pepper fumed. ‘Gah, that woman! Why does she bother me so?’
‘She obviously knows the right buttons to press,’ Tish observed.
‘I feel like such a fool. I thought I was different from all those other women. I thought Sloane cared about me.’
‘That’s how men like him operate. They build up your confidence and gain your trust, only to smash both of them to pieces.’
‘I can’t believe I fell for his lines. I thought I was better than that. I thought I was smarter. I was in a relationship with someone who treated me like a queen and I threw it all away for an idiot.’
As Pepper proceeded to pour her heart out to Tish, Schuyler recognized it as his cue to return to the kitchen. ‘Jules,’ he prompted before clearing his throat and jerking his chin toward the kitchen door.
‘What? But things were just getting juicy.’ At the sight of both Schuyler’s and Tish’s frowns, Jules amended his statement. ‘I mean, you’re right, Schuyler. I’d better cook that shrimp.’
The pair bid a dutiful retreat back to the galley.
‘Do you miss your relationship with Jim Ainsley?’ Tish asked.
‘Only every day. I know I came across as being angry with Jim yesterday, but the truth is that I was angry with myself. He and I had been together a year and it was wonderful. He’s a good man.’
‘But?’
‘But things started to get a little stale.’
‘Stale?’ Tish prompted and prayed Ms Aviero wouldn’t disclose anything too intimate in nature.
‘Jim and I had agreed early on that we weren’t going to discuss commitment or marriage or anything like that. However, when we got near the one-year mark, it felt as though our relationship had plateaued. Even though I cared about Jim and didn’t want to necessarily end the relationship, I became a bit bored with the arrangement we had.’
‘Did you try talking to him about it?’
‘No, I thought it might scare him off. As if I might be looking for him to propose marriage.’
‘Were you looking for marriage?’
‘No,’ Pepper scoffed as she waved the notion away with the back of her hand. ‘I’ve had a husband before. After twenty years, I finally divorced him and went back to my maiden name. I’ll never do that again. No, what I wanted from Jim was to spend more time together. A long weekend at a bed-and-breakfast or in DC, roaming the museums and monuments. Or even a staycation scenario where I camped at his place for a couple of days, then he would stay at mine. You know, a little romance. A little break from the routine of dinner and movies and TV and playing cards with the Abercrombies.’
‘That seems reasonable to me.’
‘It would to most people, but Jim was always reluctant to leave town. I traveled to Mexico this past January to visit family and invited Jim to join me, but he declined. There was a chance of snow in the forecast and he wanted to be here to shovel out the driveway and walk for Tucker and Violet. Then, this May, I flew up to New York City for a high school reunion. I asked Jim to be my date. Again, he turned me down, claiming that he was needed to tend to garden club matters.’
‘May is when gardens really start to take off,’ Tish allowed.
‘I know it’s a busy time, but Jim is retired. He could have easily completed his garden club duties before we needed to leave that Friday evening. And New York is a short, easy flight. We’d have been back here early Sunday afternoon.’ Pepper pulled a face, ‘No, it’s as if Jim doesn’t want to leave Coleton Creek for any length of time because he’d be missing something.’
Tish�
��s thoughts traveled to Violet Abercrombie, but she remained silent about the possibility that she and Ainsley shared a secret relationship. ‘Would you get back together with Mr Ainsley, if given the chance?’
Pepper, her eyes pink and glassy, replied without hesitation. ‘Absolutely. Not only would I jump at the opportunity to rekindle our relationship, but I’d thank God for that relationship each and every day and promise to never again take it for granted. But I’m afraid that chance won’t come my way again, Ms Tarragon. I tossed aside the best man I’ve ever known for someone who, when confronted by two women who cared for him and wanted to go on caring for him, told them both to go to hell.’ Pepper’s sorrowful expression gave way to a sneer. ‘And given all the pain I’ve caused Jim, that’s exactly where I deserve to go.’ She rushed off through the kitchen door as if it were the portal to the fiery underworld itself.
Tish was tempted to give chase but was distracted by a scratching sound radiating from behind the tall, plastic food-waste caddy in the farthest corner of the enclosed area.
Tish investigated the area, only to be met by the sight of a small dog, weighing approximately ten pounds and less than a foot tall, with long, curly hair, floppy ears, a rounded head, a soft, slightly rounded muzzle, and dark, shoe-button eyes. His paws were apricot in color, as though he had been traipsing through the soil of someone’s garden, but the rest of his coat was pristinely white and well groomed.
He wandered to Tish’s feet and gave a whimper before returning to the compost bin, where he stood on his hind legs and clawed at it, hungrily, with his front paws.
Acting on a hunch, Tish knelt down on the pavement and called to him. ‘Biscuit?’
The dog confirmed his identity with a yip before rushing back to Tish and lavishing her hands and face with canine kisses.
‘Well, now that we know who you are,’ Tish told the Bichon Frise as she ran her hands through his fur, ‘we’d better find out where you’re going to stay.’
The Garden Club Murder Page 12