by Jane Gorman
“Mr. Gormley, please, I didn’t spread rumors.” She put a hand up as she spoke as if to fend off his angry words.
“Did you not suggest that I had a motive and opportunity to kill George Hedley?”
“Oh… well… yes, I may have said that, but…”
“Enough!” Now Richard was yelling. She heard a woman’s voice in the background, sounding soothing, then heard Richard telling her to shush. “I have had enough of this. We may have moved away but we are still part of this community. I will not have you saying such terrible things about me or my family.”
“Mr. Gormley, I’m so sorry.”
“Yes, I’m sure you are. Sorry that George died. If you’re looking for someone to cast the blame onto, I suggest you look no further than yourself.”
“Oh please.” She couldn’t hide her own anger anymore. “Why would I kill my own guest?”
“How should I know? You were the only person who knew he’d be staying in your house. Do you think I would have booked a room there if I’d known George would be there? He’s the last person I want to see on my vacation.”
“No, I suppose not.” Anna chewed on her lip, her anger receding as her curiosity grew. Richard had just admitted that he still held a grudge against George, hadn’t he?
“The first time I saw George Hedley was when he was already dead. In your dining room.”
“Mr. Gormley, you are absolutely right. I have been talking out of turn, saying things and asking questions that I now realize could hurt someone. Could hurt you.”
Richard sniffed but didn’t respond.
“Please accept my apology,” Anna continued. “And thank you for calling.”
She tapped her phone to disconnect the call before Richard could say anything else. Better to end on that note.
So Richard really did hate George, as she had guessed. Could she believe his claim that he had no idea George Hedley was staying at the Climbing Rose Cottage at the same time? Now that Anna thought about it, they hadn’t seen each other at all that first day. George had arrived before the Gormleys and come down to breakfast while the older couple were still in their room.
On the other hand, he was clearly still well connected in town. After all, that’s how he heard that she’d been asking questions about him. It would have been easy for him to hear about George’s visit through the grapevine. He didn’t need to see George to know he was there.
Anna sighed and stood. She’d gathered a lot of information in a short amount of time, so she couldn’t complain about a lack of data. But her analysis so far didn’t point to any clear relationships of cause and effect. There was no obvious loose thread that, once pulled, would unravel the whole, complex story. She needed more before she could reach any conclusions.
33
Anna inhaled deeply as the shop’s door closed behind her with a gentle tinkling of the bell. She loved coming to the kitchen goods store just off Washington Mall. What did she smell today, she wondered as she took another sniff. Cinnamon, for sure. Maybe tarragon?
“Is that lemon grass?” She asked aloud as Wendy Hodgson came in from the back room, alerted no doubt by the doorbell.
“Indeed,” Wendy acknowledged Anna in her usual brisk way. “A new blend, just in today.” Wendy waved a hand toward a display shelf loaded with jars and small cans of a variety of spices and blends, all produced by a local spice company.
Three small tasting jars sat open on the front of the shelf and Anna walked closer, leaning over the display. She inhaled again, this time focusing on each one individually. The master spice blender who ran the local company knew her stuff, that was for sure.
“The hint of lavender in this one is perfect for spring.” She said, then sniffed the next one. “Ooh, I could use this in my scones.” She stood up smiling, but the scared look on Wendy’s face drove the smile from hers.
“Oh, uh… sorry,” Wendy mumbled, unusually tongue-tied.
“It’s all right,” Anna replied. She would have to get used to the looks of fear, even horror, on her neighbors’ faces. At least until they all knew for a fact that her scones did not kill anyone. “You need to know, I didn’t poison George Hedley.”
“Of course you didn’t, sweetheart.” Wendy patted Anna on the shoulder. “You would never do such a thing.”
“Not even by accident. Do you understand?” Anna looked directly into Wendy’s eyes to emphasize her point. “George didn’t die from anything he ate in my house. I am one hundred percent sure of that.”
Wendy let out a breath and moved back toward her register. “I’m very glad to hear that. I’ll make sure others know it, too. You must be aware”—she offered Anna a sympathetic look—“there is some gossip going around that he died eating your baking.”
“Oh.” Anna shook her head. “No. No. I mean, yes.” She threw her hands up. “He died while eating my scone, but not because of my scone. Do you see? In fact, that’s kind of why I’m here now. I need to replace a few things in my kitchen.”
“Oh?” Wendy raised an eyebrow.
Anna walked around the small store, eyeing the items she would need to replace and mentally adding up the cost. She would have to pick and choose which items to replace first. “I did some housecleaning, obviously. After George died, I mean.” She picked up a set of baking pans, then put them down hurriedly when she saw the price marked on the back. “I had to. To make sure, but also to reassure anyone who wants to stay at my place in the future. There is absolutely no connection between my house, my kitchen, and George Hedley’s death.”
“Ahem.” The gentle cough from the front of the store startled them both. Minister Woodley stood in the doorway, holding the glass front door open. As they turned, he released the door and the bell tinkled gently. “Wendy, Anna.” He greeted them. “I see you are discussing the tragedy. Anna”—his face showed true concern as he turned to her—“I am so sorry that you had to be part of this terrible affair. I am pleased that you are confident you were not in any way responsible. That must be a weight off your shoulders.”
As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed both her hands in his, crows feet forming around his smiling eyes. His expression offered comfort. And hope. Of course, he knew as well as she did that the weight still hung over her.
“Thank you, Minister Woodley. Of course I feel guilty. How could I not?”
“There is no way.” Minister Woodley spoke kindly even though his words could be interpreted as cruel. “But we are all human. We must all deal with tragedy. And guilt.”
He dropped her hands and faced Wendy. “I am here for my regular order of sparkling cider.”
“Of course.” Wendy trotted to the back room to gather the Minister’s order. Anna was surprised Minister Woodley purchased his cider from Wendy instead of the grocery store, then remembered that Wendy was also a Methodist. She must be a member of the parish.
“Anna,” Minister Woodley broke into her thoughts. “You are welcome to join us at services tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” Anna asked.
Minister Woodley laughed. “It is Sunday tomorrow. Perhaps the tragedy has affected your sense of time.”
“Oh, right. No, sorry. Um, thanks for the invitation, but I’m not Methodist.”
“That’s quite all right, we’re happy to welcome our brothers and sisters of other faiths. Aren’t we, Wendy?”
Wendy looked up from the dolly she was pushing carefully out of the back room. It was piled with three cases of sparkling cider. “Of course, yes. Of course.” Anna suspected she hadn’t been listening and had no idea what she’d just agreed to.
“So I will see you tomorrow?” Minister Woodley asked Anna as he took control of the dolly from Wendy.
“Um… Sure, I guess. I don’t really know…” Anna wasn’t particularly interested in checking out the Methodist service, but she didn’t want to be rude, either. Minister Woodley had always been supportive and kind to her. Maybe it would do her good to get a spiritual lift. “Yes. Okay,
I’ll be there.”
He nodded at them both as he left the store.
“So, we’ll see you tomorrow at service?” Wendy asked. “That’s a very good idea. And don’t worry, I’ll be sure to mention to the other members that your baking was not connected to George Hedley’s death. Now, what do you need?”
Anna realized she’d been avoiding her neighbors, worried that they would blame her for George’s death. But she had been wrong. She needed to embrace her neighbors, build her friendships.
“Thanks Wendy, I appreciate it. I really need some friends right now.”
34
Anna awoke on Sunday morning with a sharp pain in her left arm followed by a duller but heavier pain in her chest. Was she having a heart attack? It had been a stressful week, but she was too young, surely.
Her phone lay on the shelf next to her bed. She opened her eyes slowly, planning to reach out to grab the phone, and found herself staring into a pair of bright yellow eyes.
“Cat!” She sat up in bed, throwing the cat onto the covers next to her. “You almost scared me to death. What are you doing in here?”
In response, the cat reached out one paw and tapped her arm, then came closer and used both paws to knead her stomach.
“Ow, your claws are hurting me.” She pushed the cat away gently. “Okay, okay, I’m up. I’m guessing you’re hungry?”
She wrapped herself in a fuzzy dressing gown and padded down the stairs, the cat close at her heels. She shivered as she passed through the lounge, where the closed shutters kept out the early morning sun. The room seemed sinister somehow. She’d never noticed that before.
She pushed through to the kitchen and turned on all the lights, then screamed.
Eoin looked up from his stool, a book spread open in front of him, a bowl with a few traces of milk in the bottom next to his arm.
“Eoin, good morning.” Anna tried to sound cheerful. “Sorry about the scream, I didn’t know you were up already.”
He flinched when she said his name, but didn’t correct her. “I made meself breakfast, Cousin Anna,” he said in his quiet voice. Traces of milk along the counter and a few stray cereal flakes on the floor attested to the truth of his statement.
“Good for you,” she said as she wiped up the mess. “Now it’s my turn.”
She started putting on a pot of coffee, but a loud meow from her companion reminded her what her priorities were supposed to be.
“Just give me a minute, will you?” She said, followed by, “Ow!” when the cat responded with a tap from her paw onto Anna’s bare leg. “Okay, okay, I need to get this brewing, then it’s all you, I promise.”
Once she got the coffee brewing, she turned to look down at the cat. The cat looked up at her, blinking its yellow eyes.
“So now I’m feeding you, right? Does this mean you’re staying?” Anna smiled at the thought. She’d had a cat once before, when she was a young girl. But her recent lifestyle hadn’t allowed her the luxury of a pet. She’d been too focused on her research, her fieldwork and her lab to have that kind of distraction. But that wasn’t the case anymore, was it?
“Let’s see. You liked that salmon yesterday, didn’t you?” Anna spoke out loud as she dug through the fridge. “I have some of that left. I’ll go out this afternoon and get some cans of cat food for you. Sound good?”
The cat did not look impressed by the suggestion.
“No, I will not keep feeding you smoked salmon. I’m already struggling with my budget. If I don’t get more guests soon, I might be joining you in eating the cat food.”
She refreshed the cat’s water and placed the saucer with salmon next to it. The cat blinked at her one more time — clearly indicating that she only deigned to eat the food provided as a courtesy to Anna — then leaned forward over the bowls and started eating.
Anna watched her, smiling. “Luke was right about you, wasn’t he? You really are one tough cookie. Taking care of yourself one day, then eating out of my saucers the next.” She shook her head and laughed. “I wish I could be as strong as you!”
Leaving the cat with Eoin, Anna took a mug of coffee upstairs with her as she showered and dressed for that morning’s service. She wasn’t really sure what to wear. When she’d gone to Catholic mass as a child, they’d always dressed up a bit for church. She didn’t know if Methodists did the same thing, but figured it couldn’t hurt. She pulled on a dark blue silk blouse and her nicest black skirt, even suffering through the process of pulling on pantyhose for the occasion.
She had no intention of dragging Eoin along with her. She was pretty sure his parents, good Irish Catholics, wouldn’t appreciate her taking their son to a Methodist service. Fortunately, the Catholic church on Washington Mall provided a children’s nursery on Sunday mornings. She knew Eoin was too old for that; he’d be the biggest child there, by far. But it was the best option she had.
She still had some time before the service started, so she headed back to the kitchen. She might as well use the time to wash and set up the few pieces of equipment she’d replaced yesterday. She was going to act as if her business were still viable. It was the only way she could think of to move forward.
The cat had finished eating and sat in the middle of the room licking herself. She watched as Anna stacked her new pans and containers in the sink and filled it with warm soapy water. With her focus on the sink and making sure not to get any water on her silk blouse, Anna didn’t notice the cat approaching until she felt it rubbing against her leg.
“Hi there,” she said with a smile, then frowned when she saw the cluster of hair the cat had attached to her pantyhose. “Oh, fudge.”
She dried her hands and started pulling cat hair from her legs. The cat meowed again. And approached her again.
“Oh no, I can’t have your hair all over me this morning,” Anna said as she backed away. “Eoin, grab your jacket, we need to get going soon.” Even as she spoke, she saw that the cat was still coming toward her.
Laughing, Anna stepped through to the lounge, realizing that she was running away from a small cat but not really caring. As she checked her purse to make sure she had everything she needed, the kitchen door creaked open.
Anna watched, wide-eyed, as the cat came toward her.
“Wow, you are really determined aren’t you?” She laughed as she said it but still moved away.
When she headed for the front door, thinking to simply leave the house, the cat picked up her pace and circled around to come at her from the front. She found herself being herded away from the front door.
But the cat didn’t stop there.
Anna glanced back and knew exactly where the cat was taking her: Aunt Louise’s private rooms. The rooms into which Anna had not yet ventured, not ready to face the memories they contained. The reminders of all she had lost when Aunt Louise died.
She stopped and turned her back to the door, facing down the cat.
“I am not going in there. At least, not now. Not today. Why do you care anyway?”
The cat sat. She licked her lips. She meowed.
Without warning, she leapt. Directly at Anna. Her instinct kicking in, Anna caught the cat and held her against her chest before dropping her. Being a cat, the cat didn’t fall as much as leap gracefully down, making sure to rub against Anna’s black skirt and her legs on the way down.
“Oh fudge!” Anna shouted as she saw the trail of white and black hairs down her shirt, skirt and legs. “You… you cat!”
The cat looked up at her, meowed once more, and sauntered out of the room.
35
Anna slipped into the church, not sure what to expect. It was a small building. Two columns of simple wooden pews filled the main room, leading up to the front altar where Minister Woodley set out the last goblet for the sparkling cider. A cluster of people gathered around him, presumably helping set things up, while more people spread out among the pews.
Anna caught sight of Wendy on the far left of the room and moved toward her,
stepping carefully and politely around a family with young children who were sitting on the floor coloring in the back of the room.
Looking up from the playing children, she gasped. Catherine Hedley was the last person she’d expected to see here. She looked around desperately, hoping to avoid having to speak to the woman, but it was too late. Catherine had seen her and was moving in her direction.
“So. You’re a Methodist, too?” Catherine’s voice held more than a small amount of doubt.
“Well, no. Minister Woodley invited me to join the service today. He thought I might benefit from it,” Anna replied, not sure how much information she owed this woman. A woman who had just days before accused her of murder. “Why are you here?”
Catherine’s eyes flared. “To practice my faith, of course,” she retorted.
“No, I mean why are you still in Cape May? I thought you would have returned home by now.”
“Well, you thought wrong.” Catherine drew her chin down as she spoke, a gesture redolent of angry school teachers from Anna’s youth. “The police asked me to stay in town, but I would have stayed anyway. At least until I can take George home with me.”
As she spoke, Catherine’s eyes traveled down to Anna’s skirt. She glanced down and realized she had failed to remove all of the cat hair. She rubbed at it in embarrassment as Catherine gave her a smug look.
“Um… of course…” Anna mumbled as she pulled at the cat hair. “Again, I’m really sorry for your loss.”
Catherine sniffed. “Yes. Thank you.”
Thank you? Anna looked up surprised. That was more than she’d expected from the woman.
“I realize now that you didn’t do it intentionally,” Catherine continued.
Anna straightened to her full height and looked down at Catherine. “What did you say? You still think I killed your husband?”
A few people glanced their way and Anna switched to a whisper. “Mrs. Hedley, we cannot go through this again.”