“We showed him photos of our rose garden,” I continued. “He was interested in seeing the similarities and differences. We had a very enjoyable visit, and he instructed us on how to go about developing hybrids. We were disappointed when we were called away. We hoped to see him again, but now… he’s gone, and we’re really worried about him.”
“Neither of us will rest easy until we’re certain he’s alright,” Miles said.
The tension was almost a thing of the past. Either someone would start volunteering information soon, or we’d start asking our own questions.
“Is there reason to think he wouldn’t be?” Riley queried. She sounded more puzzled, than concerned.
Miles and I shared a glance.
“In light of what occurred during the timeframe in which he disappeared, then absolutely,” Miles replied gravely.
Concern and uncertainty now filled the eyes of those looking back at us.
“What on earth could’ve happened to cause such worry, over a grown man?” Riley frowned.
“Have you seen, heard from, or spoken to Finn since yesterday morning?” I asked.
The O’ Sullivans shared a worried glance.
“No,” Liam answered soberly, and he was telling the truth.
“Have you?” I directed to Riley and Myra.
“No,” Riley declared, and her daughter also answered in the negative. They, too, were telling the truth. I squeezed Miles’ hand once.
“Do you have any idea where he is, or where he might be?” I asked, as Liam quietly slipped back into the kitchen. The quiet creak of the door as it carefully opened, then closed again, was my answer.
Trixie and Miles exchanged a look, and unless looks are deceiving, a brief argument. Trixie scowled, then vanished. I really hoped she was following Liam, and not leaving us to find our own way back! Miles didn’t appear concerned, so… knowing Trixie, it could go either way.
My distraction over our vanishing ride kept me from hearing the answer to my question, but the truth confirmed my certainty; the O’Sullivans did know Finn, and they knew of several places he might be, one of which was the house next door.
“I don’t know if the Carlisles are looking for Finn or not,” Miles said. Apparently Riley had more questions of her own, which I also missed. “With the manor full of guests and the charity ball coming up, in addition to a number of unforeseen events and circumstances, I have no doubt they’re feeling overwhelmed at the moment.”
“Besides his up and leavin’, what has you so worried over him?” Riley questioned with concern.
“If it hasn’t been covered by the news, it means the police aren’t ready to release that information yet,” Miles replied. “Out of consideration for their ongoing investigations, and as we have not seen the news ourselves and are not aware of what has or hasn’t been made public, this isn’t something we’re free to discuss. It is imperative that we locate Finn, and ensure that he’s unharmed. In that event, he may have information that will help to further those investigations.”
“Investigating isn’t new to us,” I decided to throw in. “We’re in the process of developing a missing persons division as part of the charitable foundation Miles’ family set up, years ago. We’re assisting the authorities in an unofficial capacity, not that they know it yet. Did your brother tell you why he came back?”
“No, he’s a man of few…” Riley’s eyes widened, as did Myra’s.
I ignored their obvious surprise.
“So we’ve heard, which doesn’t exactly describe our visit with him,” I said.
“We thoroughly enjoyed meeting him,” Miles added. “When did you see him last?”
“It’s been some time, though Liam—” Riley started to say, but the abrupt creak of the kitchen door as it opened, and the sharp click of the latch that followed, cut her response short. Liam appeared in the doorway again.
“He’s workin’ next door,” he told his mother and sister. To us he reported, “Uncle Finn says you’re welcome to visit, if you care to.”
I felt weak with relief, not because he was willing to see us, but because he was alright. He must be! Because he was here, right next door! And working, no less!
Miles and I seemed more relieved than his sister and niece, but they didn’t know anything about the murders and destruction that took place the night Finn disappeared.
An inkling of concern trickled in, as I wondered… did he?
Chapter 19
“You’ll find him on the other side o’ the hedgerow,” Liam said, as he indicated the gap in the hedge—or hedgerow, it was apparently called—beside us.
“Thank you, Liam,” Miles said, and the two shook hands. “We appreciate your help.”
“‘Twas my pleasure,” Liam smiled.
He turned and followed the natural fence back toward the O’ Sullivan home, where his mother and sister were surely engaged in scouring the Isle of Camden news reports. Judging by his swift pace, he was eager to join them. I completely sympathized. Curiosity had a way of hastening my own footsteps, sometimes. I gripped Miles’ arm, and hastened his, too!
We rounded the thick, thorn covered shrubs, and a pasture of sorts spread out before us. The scent of fresh grasses filled the air, as did that of burning peat, brought to us courtesy of the faint breeze, and the smoke that rose lazily from the chimney of the little cottage nearby. Like the O’ Sullivans’, it too was well cared for, and in good repair.
“Over there,” Miles squeezed my shoulder. I ceased inspecting the house, and followed his gaze to the structure on our left. Through the sheets of semi-opaque plastic stretched over the arched PVC frame, a figure was dimly visible.
I focused intently, but saw no darkness. I hoped that meant there was none, but would I see it through the less than transparent covering, if there was? Not that I really believed Finn was guilty of murder, but…
The form faded, as it moved deeper inside the greenhouse. There was a mild slam, and a moment later, Finn stepped out from behind the building, and onto the path leading back to the cottage. He didn’t see us, but what mattered far more, was what I didn’t see!
“Nothing?” Miles asked quietly, as my shoulders released the tension I wasn’t aware of, until now.
“No,” I replied. “There’s not so much as a shadow.”
“Good,” Miles said. He sounded relieved, too. As much as we believed in the aged gardener’s innocence… it was indeed good to know our faith wasn’t misplaced.
Trixie emerged from behind the building, and followed after Finn.
“I guess we didn’t lose our ride after all,” I commented.
Miles’ eyes lit with amusement.
“Are you kidding? Convincing Trix to leave us, wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Oh.” I considered that, as we veered to intersect their path. “That was smart, though. Otherwise, if Finn felt threatened in some way and decided to take off, we’d lose him.”
“Exactly,” Miles agreed. “Now that you’ve seen him, we know he’s not responsible for the death of Reginald Abernathy, or Harry Price. Unless he’s incredibly stoic, my guess is he didn’t take off out of fear, either.”
As if in confirmation, the chirping of the birds was joined by a cheerful whistle.
“Then I wonder why he did,” I said.
“Let’s find out. Finn!” Miles called, and raised his hand in greeting, as the manor’s missing gardener turned and saw us walking toward him. He appeared a bit surprised for someone who extended an invitation, just minutes ago. Mostly, he looked curious.
“‘Tis surprised I am to see the both o’ ye,” Finn said, as we joined him, and he and Miles shook hands.
“Well it’s glad we are, to see you’re alright,” I declared. “We were worried sick!”
Finn’s grizzled eyebrows rose.
“Sure an ye’re jokin’,” he said.
“She isn’t,” Miles replied seriously. “A lot happened in the time frame during which you must
have left.”
Finn’s eyebrows knit, as he looked back at Miles.
“What has ye so concerned for my welfare, ye’ve tracked me all this way?”
“You have no idea?” I asked.
Finn studied me for several seconds, then grimaced and glanced away. He looked kind if irritable.
“It’s the Carlisles that sent ye?”
“No,” Miles answered. “We’re here because of our own concern. No one else seems to have any idea where you are, or where you might have gone.”
“I’d as soon keep it that way,” Finn said firmly. “Do they know you come here lookin’?”
“I’m absolutely certain no one does,” Miles replied.
Finn had no idea just how certain we were, but after considering Miles’ assertion, he nodded slightly.
“So long as ye don’t go an change it, you’ve naught to be concerned with, an neither’ve I.”
All that did, was heighten my concern.
“Did you leave, because you were threatened?”
“Ye might say so, but they soon learnt the error o’ their ways,” Finn replied grimly. “I can’t say I’m thrilled w’ the means, but what’s done is done. They’ve only theirselves t’ blame for it.”
I stared in confusion. What did he mean by that? Surely he wasn’t responsible for the death of either man. I saw no darkness. But what he just said… had I lost my ability to perceive?
“They’ve only themselves to blame, for… what?” I asked.
Finn’s eyes narrowed.
“Yer sayin’ ye don’t know?”
Miles squeezed my shoulder reassuringly.
“Without first comparing notes, how can we be certain?” he reasoned.
“There’s a grand idea,” Finn approved. “It’s all ears, I am.”
“As are we,” Miles replied. “For the sake of fairness, we’ll trade. One question and answer, for another.”
“‘Tis a deal,” Finn agreed, and I jumped in.
“Do you know anything about the killings that took place in the manor’s rose garden?”
Finn grimaced.
“I do,” he said shortly. “How is it ye know of ‘em?”
I gripped Miles’ hand hard.
“We’re the ones who found them,” I managed to say. “What do you know about their murders?”
Finn’s grimace deepened.
“Yer so kind-hearted ye might consider it such,” he replied rather grumpily. “I regret the means, as I said, but ‘twas the only way to protect what’s rightfully mine.”
I felt sick. All I could do was stare. He was telling the truth, so where was the darkness I saw no hint of? Was this a matter of self-defense? But it wasn’t himself he was defending.
“I fear for this Nate ye spoke of,” Finn said wryly. “If it’s murder ye call it, I’m doubtin’ he’ll come off the easier for prunin’ yer own.”
“Huh?” was all I could come up with.
“Wait,” Miles broke in. “Clarification is badly in order. Are you referring to roses, or men?”
Finn gave him an odd look.
“Roses, o’ course,” he retorted.
“You didn’t kill any actual people,” I realized.
“People, is it?” he laughed in puzzled surprise. “Yer getting’ more answers out o’ me than’s fair, but I can’t say as I did, seein’ as I didn’t.”
I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief, and left Miles to do the talking. I also squeezed his hand once. Although Finn could lie and say he did, he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t.
“We’re very glad to hear that,” Miles responded. “Are you aware that sometime between Wednesday night and Thursday morning, two men were killed at the manor, one in the garden, and one inside your greenhouse?”
Now it was Finn’s turn to stare.
“Sure an yer jokin’,” he declared.
“He’s telling the truth,” I replied. “So you know nothing about these murders?”
“No,” he asserted firmly. “I’m not convinced there’ve been any.”
I squeezed Miles’ hand once. He was telling the truth.
“After finding the first body, we discovered your greenhouse was destroyed,” I said. “There was evidence there of a second homicide, but no victim. Since you were missing, we were afraid you were the one who was killed. When we found the second body yesterday evening, we were relieved to realize it wasn’t yours. But you were still missing, and realizing the mature hybrids were destroyed, and the sprouts and seeds were also missing, made us even more worried for you.”
“Who is’t was killed?” Finn’s eyebrows knit.
“Gerald Abernathy, and Harry Price,” Miles answered.
Finn considered that, then shook his head.
“I’m not familiar with ‘em. Unless one of ‘em’s a stout, baldin’ snake of a fellow,” he said grimly.
Miles and I exchanged a glance.
“That doesn’t fit the description of either man,” Miles replied.
“Then I don’t be knowin’ a thing about ‘em,” Finn reasserted. “Now what’s this ye’re sayin’ about the greenhouse?”
We started from the beginning, when Miles saw from our window that some of the glass panels were shattered. We moved on to finding Gerald Abernathy, the destruction in the greenhouse, the magazine with Finn’s sister’s name and address, the hybrid roses that were missing, the thoroughly chipper shredded rose bushes themselves, and Harry Price’s body. By the time we finished, his eyebrows were knit so tight, I wondered if they’d ever come undone.
“An ye say neither of ‘em was stout, nor baldin’?” he questioned.
“Both had full heads of hair,” Miles answered. “I wouldn’t call either of them overweight. Are you referring to the man you chased out of your greenhouse on Wednesday, along with Lady Carlisle?”
“I am,” Finn replied, and his eyes flashed irritably, on their way to registering surprise. “How would ye be knowin’ it?”
“Our windows provide a view of the greenhouse, and the garden surrounding it,” I reminded him. “Who is he, and what was that all about?”
Finn scowled.
“I’m not recallin’ the man’s name, but I do remember him. He come nosin’ around two or three year ago, thinkin’ to mass-produce my roses. I told him I’d consider it, when the sun froze over. He snaked off to Lady Carlisle after that, thinkin’ to go ‘round me, but, she took serious her promise to keep the roses exclusive to the manor. ‘Twas the only way I’d plant ‘em there.”
“But on Wednesday, she changed her mind?” I asked.
“I caught ‘em both inside the greenhouse, pokin’ around,” Finn confirmed grimly. “They were searchin’ for my record book. I hardly believed it, Lady Carlisle always treated me fair up ‘til then. I told her what I thought of it, but she claimed she could do what she wanted with her own property, and what’s planted there, was. It didn’t keep me from chasin’ ‘em both off.”
“So that’s what you meant about being threatened,” I understood.
“The manor was no longer home t’ me, nor my roses,” Finn said in resignation.
“So you left behind the roses Lady Carlisle claimed ownership of, but not in a way they could be profited from,” Miles surmised.
“‘Twas the only way I could find,” Finn replied. “I told Liam to come for me ‘round eight, an began cuttin’ straightaway.”
“No one tried to stop you?” I questioned.
“‘Tis often the roses be needin’ a trim, an I’m the one that does’t. A whole garden full o’ trimmin’s adds up to a pile. ‘Twasn’t the first time I carted a mass to be shredded.”
“How many others worked with you in the rose garden?” Miles asked.
“They worked if an when I asked for ‘em,” Finn answered.
“So no one was around to question what you were doing,” I realized.
“I’d of chased ‘em off if they had, an well they know it,” Finn replied. “It took the bette
r part o’ the day an evenin’, then I packed up an met Liam at the dock. After loadin’ the boat, I drove the truck back to the manor an left it, then we headed home.”
“Did you take the seeds and potted hybrids with you?” Miles asked.
“Seein’ as they weren’t planted in Carlisle soil, then by Lady Carlisle’s own standards, she’s got no claim to ‘em,” Finn reasoned with satisfaction.
“Well… someone wants them very badly, anyway,” I pointed out.
“Badly enough to kill,” Miles said. “Are there any clues left, that could lead someone to your location?”
The furrows in Finn’s forehead deepened, as he thought that through. Finally, he shook his head.
“Not that I know.”
“Alright… good,” I said. “It needs to stay that way, because for now, you’re also a suspect in the death of Harry Price.”
“That’s the man was killed in the greenhouse?” Finn asked.
“Right,” Miles confirmed. “Either the authorities will determine who the actual killer is, or we will. When was the last time you saw the greenhouse?”
“When I loaded what was mine. That’d be about eight,” Finn recalled.
“What time did you leave with Liam?” I questioned.
“Nine o’ clock, I’d say,” Finn replied.
“As long as the time of death is determined to be after that, then you’ve got an alibi,” I noted.
“Anika discovered a bud from one of your hybrids underneath a bench in the garden,” Miles said. “Other than the rain which would make little difference, it was without water for at least twenty-four hours. Despite that, it looked no worse for it. Are there any additional reasons why someone would be so determined to gain access to the record book, and seeds?”
“Scent is like to be next on the list,” Finn replied. “Cut roses you’ll be findin’ at a florist’s may last longer than yer ordinary garden variety, but it’s at the sacrifice o’ fragrance.”
“Combined with the number of petals, it’s any florist’s dream,” I remarked. “The deep pink is gorgeous, too.”
“Ah, ‘tis Cait ye found,” Finn looked pleased.
“It is?” I asked in surprise. “And it’s Cait’s seeds, that you gave me?”
Ashes of Roses Page 36