by Vicki Delany
“Good-bye, Lily.” He lifted the rope. At that moment, the timer next to the stove went off, and the rooster announced it was time to take the latest batch of scones out of the oven. Roy jumped and glanced around, searching for the origin of the sound.
My right hand reached behind me and closed on the familiar shape of my marble rolling pin. I grabbed it, let out an enormous yell, leapt forward, and swung the heavy implement as hard as I could. I hit Roy smack on the side of his head. He yelled in pain and surprise and fell back. His legs buckled, and I kicked him solidly in the right knee. He collapsed, and one end of the rope fell out of his hand.
I raced for the door. He scrambled across the floor and grabbed for my ankle. I was still holding the rolling pin, and I brought it down hard against his outstretched arm. He screamed.
I wrenched open the door and ran outside, yelling as loudly as I could. Behind me, Roy grunted with pain as he staggered to his feet. I dared a peek over my shoulder. He was up and running now, coming after me. I headed for the welcoming lights of Victoria-on-Sea.
A car turned off the road into the driveway and screeched to a halt. Bernie was behind the wheel; Rose next to her. Two pairs of round eyes stared at me, and two mouths opened in shock.
“He killed Jack Ford!” I yelled and waved the rolling pin. “He’s trying to kill me.” I headed for the car, aware that Roy was only feet—inches maybe—behind me.
Bernie swung the car around and came toward us in a spray of gravel and sand. I leapt to one side, and Roy broke off the chase. He headed for the dark hulk that was the Goodwill house, where his SUV was parked.
Bernie reversed and gunned the engine again.
“No!” I yelled. “No! Not with Rose in the car!”
She didn’t hear me, and it probably wouldn’t have mattered if she had. No doubt Rose was encouraging her to continue the chase.
I dropped the rolling pin, fumbled for my phone, and called the emergency number. I shouted our address. “He’s after my grandmother!”
Actually, Rose and Bernie were after him, but I didn’t bother to mention that.
Roy cut across the yard, Bernie hot in pursuit. I followed on foot.
Bernie’s car came to a sudden shuddering halt. Her wheels spun uselessly. She was stuck in a patch of sand.
“Let him go! Let him go!” I yelled as I ran. “The police are on their way.”
A motorcycle roared past me. It left the pavement, leapt over the sand, and tore through the beach grasses. A car horn sounded behind me, and I spun around to see Matt’s BMW convertible fast approaching. I leapt out of the way. He screeched to a halt next to me, leaned over, and threw open the passenger door.
“What’s happening, Lily?”
I jumped into the car. “Roy Gleeson. He killed Jack Ford. He tried to kill me.”
Matt threw the car into gear without waiting for me to close my door. He saw Bernie, engine grinding, wheels spinning, firmly trapped in the sand, and stayed on the driveway.
Bernie abandoned her car and ran toward the Goodwill house, her long legs flying and her hair streaming behind her. Her wild red hair was illuminated by the headlights behind her, and it looked as though she carried flames within her. She really does, I thought, look like a warrior princess. Rose, thank heavens, made no attempt to follow. She’d gotten out of the car and was yelling into her phone and waving her cane in the air with her other hand.
By the time we reached the Goodwill house, Simon was off his bike and had Roy backed up against the SUV, hands in the air. I leapt out of Matt’s car before it came to a complete halt.
“I didn’t do anything,” Roy yelled. “I went to talk to her, and she attacked me. She hit me with a rolling pin, for no reason whatsoever! That woman’s a lunatic.”
I probably didn’t look all that much better, but Roy Gleeson truly did look like a lunatic. Rage filled his eyes, and spittle flew from his mouth. A thin trickle of blood dripped down the side of his face from where my trusty rolling pin had struck him.
“He tried to kill me!” I yelled.
Matt, Simon, and Bernie formed a semicircle around Roy.
“Get out of my way,” he said. “If you try to stop me, I’ll have you all arrested.”
The welcome sound of sirens in the distance, getting closer.
“Why don’t we wait for the police,” Matt said, “and let them sort everything out?”
“Good idea.” Bernie flexed her fingers and glared at Roy. “You make one move, buddy, and I’ll crack your skull.”
Chapter 24
A cruiser pulled to a halt, and two uniformed officers got out. Roy Gleeson screamed that we were attempting to kidnap him and ordered them to arrest us, but as it was him against the three of us, they slapped the cuffs on him.
More blue and red lights broke the twilight, and screaming sirens tore down the long driveway.
Amy Redmond was with them, and she marched up to me demanding to know what was going on. I told her, my words tripping all over themselves in my haste to get them out. Roy, meanwhile, was screaming that he’d been set up; and Bernie, Simon, and Matt chimed in—all at the same time—with their versions of events.
Finally, Redmond lifted a hand and calmly said, “I’ll take your statements in a few minutes.” She turned to one of the officers. “Take Mr. Gleeson into town. I’ll be along to talk to him after I’ve found out exactly what’s happened here.”
Screaming abuse and threats, alternating with offers of a bribe, Roy Gleeson was led away and unceremoniously stuffed into the back of a cruiser.
“One at a time, please,” Redmond said while my friends gathered around me. “Lily, did Mr. Gleeson tell you he killed Jack Ford?”
I let out a long breath as I tried to remember his exact words. “He said he’d had enough and he needed to get out from under Jack’s thumb.”
“Sounds like a confession to me,” Simon said.
“Not quite,” Redmond said, “but enough for us to get started pressing charges.”
“There was nothing indeterminate about him threatening me,” I said. “He came into my kitchen because he knew we were closed and I’d be alone. He brought a length of rope with him and was going to use it on me.” I shuddered and touched my throat. “He really did intend to kill me.” My legs gave way, and I would have fallen had Simon not grabbed one arm and Matt the other.
“She needs to sit down,” Bernie said. “She’s had a terrible shock.”
“You can go up to the house,” Redmond said. “I’ll take your statements there. Roy Gleeson can cool his heels in a cell for a while.”
“Where’s Detective Williams?” Matt asked.
“He’s been taken off the case,” Redmond replied. “When the call came in and Gleeson’s name was mentioned, I contacted the chief and pointed out that the suspect and the investigating detective are cousins.”
“Are they now?” Bernie said.
“Which is why Roy knew we’d been asking questions,” I said. “Williams told him.”
“And that put you in danger,” Matt said.
Rose and Bernie were the ones who’d been asking questions, not me. They wouldn’t have stopped asking questions if I’d been killed, but Roy thought I knew he’d murdered Jack, and thus I was the one who had to be silenced tonight. I could only assume Rose and Bernie were next on his hit list.
Matt, Simon, Bernie, and I walked across the lawn to the house in a tight group. Redmond stayed behind to give quick orders and then caught up with us. All the lights were on in the B & B, and guests had gathered on the verandah to watch the activity.
Police cars were parked next to the tearoom, and more officers were walking slowly up and down the driveway, studying the ground in the glow of their flashlights.
“What’s going on over there?” I asked.
“You said you were attacked in your kitchen,” Redmond said. “We need to gather evidence.”
“Not my food! Please, I’ve been baking for hours.” Then I remembered. “
Oh, no! The rooster.”
“The what?”
“The rooster timer crowed. That’s what scared Roy so I was able to make my move to get away. I didn’t take the scones out of the oven. They’ll be ruined. They’ll burn the tearoom down!”
She pushed a button on her radio. “I’ll see the oven’s turned off, but it’s unlikely you’ll be opening for business tomorrow.”
I groaned.
“Consider yourself lucky,” Bernie said. “You might have lost more than one batch of scones and a night’s work.”
“Lucky, yes, but it was more than lucky that you all arrived at the right time. Where were you and Rose, anyway?”
Bernie flicked her eyes toward Redmond. “Tell you later. There’s more than one mystery here.”
“No mystery about me,” Simon said. “I ran into Matt in town. We went for a drink, and talk naturally came around to you two.”
“Simon told me you had work to do tonight, but I hoped you’d be finished soon, and we could put our heads together and maybe try to figure out what was going on.” Matt turned to Bernie. “I was going to suggest Lily give you a call and ask you to join us.”
“Were you now?” she said.
“I was.” He grinned at her. It might have been a trick of the light, but I thought she grinned back.
Rose was waiting for us in the drawing room, Robert the Bruce standing guard by her chair. A hotel guest, she told us, had seen her making her way cautiously back from the Goodwill property and had hurried out to help her.
Over her protests, Redmond hustled my grandmother out of the drawing room, saying she needed to interview each of the witnesses in private.
“If I must,” Rose said. “Bernie, why don’t you make tea for our guests? Lily must have something in the pantry you can serve them. I’m going to my room. All this excitement has been most exhausting.”
“I’ll take you,” Simon said.
“No, no. Not necessary. I can manage in my own house. You run along with the others.” She made shooing gestures. “Off you go.”
She gave me a wink, and I followed Redmond into the drawing room.
As I gave my statement, I tried not to speak too directly to a painting on the wall. The one showing an eighteenth-century ship heading out to sea, sails spread in all their glory.
Chapter 25
“And that,” Rose said, “will teach you not to keep things from me.”
“So there,” Bernie said.
“I consider myself to be suitably chastised,” I said. “Won’t happen again.” If I were five years old, I’d have crossed my fingers behind my back.
As I’d talked to Amy Redmond in the drawing room, trying to recall every moment of what had happened in the tearoom kitchen, fatigue began washing over me. Fatigue and a substantial dose of shock. Redmond called Bernie and asked her to take me to bed, and Bernie had done so.
I’d been aware, all through the night, of Rose and Bernie in the living room, taking turns watching over me.
I’d awakened when the morning sun touched the edges of my drapes. I had a moment of panic, recalling all that had happened, but then I lay back against my pillows with a contented sigh. It was over. Life would return to normal. I glanced at the clock. Quarter to six. Time to go to work.
Éclair snoozed at my feet, and the cottage was quiet. I threw the covers off, climbed out of bed, and peeked into the living room. A tangled mop of red hair stuck out from beneath a blanket on the couch, and the blanket moved up and down with Bernie’s rhythmic breathing.
I felt a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes.
I let Éclair out and went for my shower.
Murder and attempted murder might have happened, but we still had guests, and guests needed to be fed.
When I next went into the living room, showered and dressed and ready for the day, I found Bernie folding the blanket.
“You didn’t have to stay all night,” I said. She was dressed in the same clothes she’d had on yesterday, now seriously rumpled.
“Someone had to in case you woke up frightened and confused. Simon offered to sleep over, but Rose was shocked.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“Okay. She wasn’t shocked. She wanted to be the one to watch over you. I managed to persuade her to go back to her own bed by telling her I’d call if you needed her.”
Éclair yipped at the door, asking to be let in. Bernie did so, and I gave the dog her breakfast and filled her water bowl. Bernie went to the bathroom and made some attempt to tidy herself up, and then we walked to the house, Éclair trotting at my heels.
“How long did Matt stay last night?” I asked.
“Who? Oh, Matt.” She turned various shades of red and pink. “I don’t remember.”
“Give it up, Bernie. You like him. You can admit it now that we know he’s not a killer.”
“I will confess he has a certain rakish charm. And those dark eyes—good heavens a woman could drown in them. But she could use his eyelashes as life preservers.”
“I hope you don’t use that line in your book.”
“Why do you say that? I like it. Let’s change the subject. You going to be okay to make breakfast?”
“I’m fine. Really. I slept well, and I feel good.”
Éclair let out a sudden excited yip and ran ahead. Simon and Edna waited for us by the kitchen door.
“You’re early,” I said.
“Frank was up all night,” Edna said, “preparing this morning’s edition to have the big news on the front page. Roy Gleeson has been arrested for the murder of Jack Ford and the attempted murder of Lily Roberts. Imagine that. I want to hear every sordid detail.”
“Which I can’t tell you,” I said, “as the sordid details can’t be reported in the paper before the case goes to court.”
“I can keep a secret,” she said. “Actually, I can’t, so don’t tell me. I wanted to see if you’re okay.”
“As you can see, I am.”
I put the coffee on to brew and plugged in the kettle for tea. Bernie sat at the Formica table, while Edna set to work laying out the breakfast things in the dining room. Éclair curled up on the floor under the table, rested her face between her paws, and watched me.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Simon asked.
Despite all the excitement of the previous night, Rose had remembered to leave a note with the numbers for today. A full house.
“I’ve got a coffee cake in the freezer. I’ll use that today. I don’t feel like baking.”
Bernie shot me a worried look. “That’s like me saying I don’t feel like breathing. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Physically, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I keep thinking about what happened, though, and what led to it. I simply can’t understand why someone would believe killing another person would solve their problems.”
“Don’t try to figure it out,” Simon said. “That you don’t understand is a good thing.”
I put melons and bananas on the table. “If you want to help, you can slice the fruit, please.”
Éclair leapt to her feet as Robert the Bruce ran into the kitchen. The tap-tap-tap of Rose’s cane sounded on the floor, and she followed him in, dressed and made up.
“You’re up early.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and when I pulled back, she put her hands on my arms and stared up into my face with those eyes, so much like mine, full of love. “I’m fine,” I said. “Really.”
“Glad to hear it. I assumed you’d all be gathering here this morning.” She took a seat at the table. Robbie jumped onto her lap.
“Rose,” Edna said, “can I make you a cup of tea?”
My grandmother’s mouth fell open. When she’d recovered her wits, she said, “Why yes, you may. Thank you, Edna.”
I put the coffee cake into the oven to warm and then poured coffee for Simon, Bernie, and myself and took a seat. “Okay, now you can tell me what you two were up to last night. Something about another mystery?”
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Bernie and Rose exchanged glances. Rose nodded, and Bernie said, “We paid a call on Janice Ford.”
“Why?”
“After dropping off your groceries, I took Éclair for a walk, like you asked me to, and then called on Rose. I asked Rose if there’d been any more signs of intruders after that one time, and she said no. I then might have accidentally let slip something about the note left under the geraniums.”
Rose wagged her finger at me. “That came as news to me.” Edna put a cup of tea in front of her. Robbie stood on his hind legs and sniffed at it. “If you’d told me about this threatening note, love, that little puzzle might have been cleared up a lot earlier.”
“How so?”
“Thursday afternoon I was in room two-oh-four, checking the condition of the wallpaper.”
“I remember you saying you needed to do that. What of it?”
Rose lifted her cane and pointed it at the ceiling. “Room two-oh-four is directly above here. A deluxe room with a balcony and sea view. While I was examining the paper, which incidentally will have to be completely removed and replaced, and I have no idea when we’ll be able to get that done, I observed Janice Ford at the rear of the house.”
“She came to visit the spot where Jack had died,” I said, “and then she stayed for tea on the patio. I thought maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she’d pretended.”
“Really, Lily. You can be so naive sometimes. She wasn’t here to pay her respects. She was here to see what had happened to her note.”
“Her note?”
“I stood at the window, watching her poking around and trying to be unobtrusive about it. When she thought she wasn’t being observed, she lifted the leaves of the geraniums in the pot by the kitchen door and checked underneath. At the time, I thought she might have an interest in geraniums, and ours are particularly fine, if I do say so myself.”
“They are that,” Simon said as he peeled an orange.
“She was checking to see if her note had been found,” I said.
“Exactly. When Bernie told me about the strange incident of the geraniums in the nighttime, I naturally remembered Janice’s visit.”