Some Saints Prey (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 4)

by Madison Kent

  Oliver

  "You must have made quite an impression, to have admirers seeking your favor already," said Emily at breakfast.

  "Whatever do you mean?" asked Madeline.

  "There are two notes that have arrived at around seven this morning, each delivered by a man on horseback, not by post. Perhaps Reggie can say who they are from. I'm assuming they must be from the two men I saw you speaking with last night. If I venture a guess, one will be from Austin Bradley, and the other, from that no account, Oliver Mandrake," stated Emily.

  Madeline kidded, "I think I should like to enlist you as my partner. You have observed quite a bit, and you may be right, for I have an engagement to meet with Oliver this afternoon. He is taking me down to the site of the drowning. If you don't mind, I will open them now to see if your assumption is correct."

  Edgar had already left to meet with a gentleman in town on business. It was just the two of them enjoying a light breakfast of biscuits, sausages, and tea.

  She read,

  Madeline,

  I shall be there promptly at one. Would you consider joining me for dinner?

  Oliver

  The other read,

  Mrs. Donovan,

  Your frank personality and interesting ideas thoroughly entertained me, and I hope I will get the chance again to be in your company. I regret, however, that I have been called away on business. However, I hope you will join me for a ride in the countryside, or luncheon at the harbor, upon my return.

  Austin Bradley

  "So, do not keep me in suspense," said Emily.

  "Your supposition is correct. They are from Oliver and Austin."

  "My word, young lady, it is a wonder you have not remarried. If you can attract the attention of two of the most sought after men in St. Augustine moments after your arrival in our city, you should already have a ring on your finger."

  Madeline full-out blushed at her comment, saying, "I'm sure it's because I am a new face in town. I will not be staying long enough for them to have to show the pretense of affection, nor any feeling of obligation toward me."

  "Will you be accepting their invitations?" asked Emily.

  "Austin will be away, but I will see Oliver."

  "I shall plan that you will not return until the end of the day," said Emily.

  She decided she would wear something a little more fashionable―turned her hair up, and added flowers. Time with Oliver, she knew, would not be dull, and she wanted to feel attractive when she was with him.

  Madeline was pacing, looking through her window to see if she could catch a glimpse of Oliver riding up. She was not certain why he attracted her. She found she enjoyed looking at him when he did not know she observed him.

  When he came into view, she smiled at the virile specimen of a man and hoped she was wrong in thinking that his intentions towards Emma were not altogether honorable.

  The sky projected an afternoon storm, the wind whipping, causing Oliver's hair to blow about his face, and his long coat to flap open. She felt as if she wanted to take her hand and straighten the hair about his face, and then realized she must truly admire him, and must resist those feelings immediately.

  "Oliver, it is good to see you, and you've arrived early. It's well you are here. I hope we may be able to see the site before the rains begin," said Madeline.

  "Would you rather ride in the carriage?"

  She looked again at the tumultuous clouds and said,

  "Yes, if you wouldn't mind. Perhaps that would be better."

  After obtaining Emily's permission to use the carriage, they set off, Madeline seated beside him.

  "I thought you might like to ride inside the carriage, the wind has suddenly picked up," said Oliver.

  "Until the rains come, I would like your company, and to see St. Augustine in full view."

  She gripped his arm to steady herself as they jerked along the road. Hearing the thunder in the background, Oliver said,

  "We must make haste if we are to get anything accomplished."

  The horses hooves pounded along, swiftly taking them to what began as a shallow riverbed. One could clearly see the stones, weeds and small fish.

  "Are you certain this is the area?" asked Madeline.

  "From what I heard and read in the news, it is that section of the river―it was to be near a cluster of wild brush. It is the beginning of it, and it tapers off down the way."

  "I wish it were shallow enough so that I could take my boots off and wade in," said Madeline.

  "Your clothing will soil, but I can do so. I will remove them, and roll my pants up, with no harm done," Oliver volunteered.

  "You would do that? How gallant! I do thank you, indeed, for taking me here."

  Madeline took her parasol and walked beside the river's edge, pushing and prodding between the bushes, to see if there anything at all of interest we can find. Oliver strode into the warm water, now and again, stopping, if he felt something with his foot, to see if it was anything of value.

  "You are most kind, sir, a true gentleman, to help me out in this way," Madeline laughed as she watched him. As he walked through the water and dug with his hands in the mud, it made her think he was a kind man. She followed along on the embankment, looking for anything that might be amiss. She found a ladies handkerchief, some cigar wrappers, and a red ball, and decided to keep the handkerchief and one of the wrappers.

  "What's this? I think I have something, Madeline. Look here," he said excitedly. "It was around this rock. Otherwise, it probably would have drifted off with the current."

  He handed Madeline mud covered, black beaded rosary with a silver cross. It was of fine workmanship. She was a Catholic and had seen many a rosary, but this one was particularly exquisite.

  "Now, I know years ago there use to be baptisms done here. It may have been down there a while, or perhaps just someone was praying by the riverside and lost it," said Oliver.

  "I don't know whether it will be of value, but I think we should take it to the police," said Madeline.

  "It seems of little consequence, by my thoughts, but if you wish, I will take you. Perhaps we will have time before dinner."

  "Oh, I must reluctantly decline. Emily had committed me to a dinner engagement before I received your invitation. But I would enjoy meeting with you and Emma some evening."

  Emily had not made any plans, but she was hesitant to accept Oliver's invitation.

  "Hmmm...that was most obvious. Must it be with Emma?"

  Madeline replied, "I take it, you have designs on her, I think it only appropriate."

  Oliver laughed and said, "I don't think I have designs on anyone―that includes definite plans. You may take my word on that. I am more an inclination man. I certainly know what I like, and am wise enough to act upon those feelings, as I have just done with you.

  "I am fond of Emma, but as you are already aware, Miss Emma enjoys the attention of more than one suitor. That means, at any time, those feelings may disappear along with the suitor."

  "Literally, as in the case of Clifford and Lonnie."

  "Clifford was known for taking a drink too many. I thought that he might have fallen while intoxicated. I don't think he was suicidal unless there was something more going on with Emma that might have caused an emotional imbalance―she can drive a man a little mad. As for Lonnie, I still think he will show up. She probably rejected him, and he took off somewhere to lick his wounds," Oliver said.

  "Have you spoken to any of Lonnie's friends?"

  "The truth is, I knew him, but we weren't friends, we were more like rivals. It seems whenever I was interested in a girl he was too. It was as if he liked to challenge me. I'm sure the police have interviewed them. I'll see if I can find out if there are any rumors as to where he may have gone."

  She said, "Then you think he has not met with foul play?"

  "What is the likelihood that both of her suitors would turn up dead? If it turns out to be true, then that would be a mystery worth pursuing," Ol
iver said.

  They continued searching, walking nearly a half a mile, when Madeline came upon a tiny, black case, easily overseen in the begrimed ground on the bank. It was positioned deep into the mud so that only a small bit of the case was visible.

  "Oliver, I've found something. Come."

  He walked onto the grass where she stood and watched as she opened it.

  "It looks to be a betrothal ring. I couldn't be certain, but it certainly is identical to ones I've seen," he said.

  "Oh, yes, I believe you're right. Could it be that Clifford was in possession of this ring when he died? Was he about to ask Emma to marry him?"

  "It could have been sitting here for a long time, lost by some other young man, or thrown away by some jilted woman. There is always that possibility," stated Oliver.

  "It's still a noteworthy find. I would like to take a photograph of both these items before turning them over to the police. Is that possible?"

  "Certainly. We are not that backward that we do not have photography studios. There is a man, Lawrence St. Mark, he owns the best one of the three I know of. I'll take you there."

  Madeline gingerly wrapped their possessions in her handkerchiefs. She had brought several, in the event, that might be needed to secure findings. These were most precious for they told a story of passion. A religious cross and a betrothal ring were significant.

  "I find I am ready to be on dry land again, and saunter up to Palms Place for a sip of some smooth lager or a dry gin," Oliver said insistently.

  She smiled, believing she should, at the very least, accept his invitation, after he had assisted her so willingly.

  "Lead the way, my friend. I am at your service, "smiled Madeline.

  He smiled at her, offering Madeline his arm, as they walked together.

  The rains were trickling down, just like a fly to be swatted at, not quite bothersome yet, but he insisted she employ the inside of the carriage. She acquiesced and watched his strong, fine frame maneuver the carriage smoothly, catching herself again, that her thoughts of him had strayed from her business.

  They arrived at the establishment within a short time. It's thatched roof graced a two-story high building that hid amongst many types of palm trees. Oliver described the names of the windmill, pygmy date, royal, and the queen palm, just to name a few, that graced the entrance. The palms shaded and enclosed the place as if it were meant to be difficult to step inside, to give it the appearance of a unique hide-a-way. Dining was available outside on either of its two tiers that faced the water. The scene was breathtaking to her. The magnificent sunset of satin ribbon pink colors sliding through the majestic cobalt sky made one feel that they had stepped into Ponce de Leon's chosen world. She could see people easily getting lost passing the day here, sipping their wine, fishing, and bonding through their love of both. It was a romantic atmosphere to discuss, of all things, murder.

  Madeline, absinthe in hand, slowly sipped her favorite guilty pleasure and said, "Now, Oliver, you are too bold not to have more to tell me of the secrets of St. Augustine. I am sure, under the light of a beautiful moon, you have had the privilege of learning many a fair maiden's secrets."

  "And you are too bold to ask such a thing. The mystery is what keeps us civil, my dear. What a cad I would be to divulge what you ask. After all, if we were to engage in a tryst, would you wish me to kiss and tell?"

  Madeline was embarrassed by his remarks but realized she had encouraged this line of talk.

  He continued,

  "What I will allow myself to say is that neither Mr. or Mrs. St. Fleur seem to show disdain or distress at their daughter's onslaught of callers. Sometimes fathers throw their hands up about such things, "their little girl", and all that. But mothers, I find, would be withering away and turning old, if their daughter conducted herself like Miss Emma. I think it is another reason she gets away with her behavior," Oliver said while rubbing a glass of ale in a slow, caressing fashion, watching her to observe if she had any reaction.

  She knew dismissing Oliver would be harder than she thought, but this establishment had crowds of people that might be willing to talk to Clifford or Lonnie, and she was glad of the opportunity to be here.

  "Do you mind if we go outside? The crowd seems livelier here, and we may take advantage of the lovely breeze and get a better view of the ocean..." Madeline was about to go on when Oliver interrupted.

  "And what you meant to say is, you want to try to join in any conversation or start one of the two men."

  Now, she did openly blush, because she realized that some of the same theatrics that she employed on Hugh and Jonathan were unnoticed, or they were too polite to call her out. But that was not so with Oliver. She would have to be more cautious with him.

  "Yes, that's what I meant. That is the reason for this outing, wasn't it?"

  Oliver replied teasingly, "Woman, you wound me. I had thought you might have put the matter aside for a moment and allowed me to get to know you better."

  She smiled, but said curtly, "Another day perhaps, but this is serious. I mean to see if I may assist in this investigation, or, at least, pass on some pertinent information to the authorities."

  After they had moved to an outdoor table, they began their conversation about Emma and the men, hoping to draw other people in, or see if anyone reacted in any guarded way.

  Oliver stood and motioned to two men leaning against the guard railing on the second floor.

  "Jeffrey, Matthew, join us. I have a guest from Chicago, who wants to know all the dirty, little, secrets about Emma and her men. You're just the ones who can offer us some gritty details," Oliver said while laughing and swigging another gulp of ale.

  Oliver appeared to be on his way to becoming inebriated. She could not tell whether this would be useful to her or not. It would depend on how his personality would turn.

  "Oliver, old man, I haven't seen you since before the hunt. What has kept you busy these days, the unattainable Miss Emma?" said a handsome brown-haired man of perhaps twenty-five. His sun-streaked curly hair was striking, as was his face. Dressed in warm weather light clothing, he looked the picture of a lakeside lad. The other, Matthew St. George, looked sullen, possessing a darker complexion, and skeptical eyes that grazed over them like swords. He was tall, had just a tad of a double-chin and a slight protrusion of the belly, but still striking looking.

  Oliver leaned over and whispered to Madeline that Matthew had been one of the jilted suitors.

  "Welcome, let me introduce you to my friend, Madeline Donovan. Drinks all around on me," he said as he called out to the wandering waiter who hurried over with fresh ale.

  "What do you hear of Emma, and have you heard any news about where poor, old Lonnie might be hiding out?" Oliver asked.

  "You must have heard that the St. Fleur's are giving a benefit dinner for Clifford. Donations will go toward his funeral expense and to help the family," said Jeffrey.

  "That seems a little crass, even for the St. Fleur's. If any other family was doing it, it would be a worthy cause. However, somehow it seems an odd thing for someone in that family to do," said Oliver with a look of disdain upon his face. "Her parents," he continued, "are like none I have ever known. They gave Emma a free hand at everything and threw their money around as if life was only for parties and frivolity. Their wealth is a thing of absurdity."

  Jeffrey added, "You've been to their estate. I believe it is only second to the governor's mansion in opulence."

  "Have you been invited then?" asked Madeline.

  "Yes, my family received the invitation today. It is two days from now," Jeffrey replied. "Oliver, I am surprised you didn't know of this. Aren't you spending time wooing Emma?"

  "Hah―no one woos Emma. She just tolerates men's adoration. She is best handled by not spending too much attention on her. It would be just like her not to tell me. She would think it a feather in her cap to have kept it from me. That is her way, but I will be there, you can be sure of that. How about you, Matth
ew? Did you receive an invitation?"

  "Yes, but she annoys me. I don't know if I will go."

  "But you knew Clifford. You should go, old man. It is a show of solidarity for a friend," added Oliver.

  "I hope the Montgomery's have received an invitation. I must see Miss Emma's estate," said Madeline.

  "I should be happy to escort you as my guest, in any case," Jeffrey offered to Madeline.

  "Thank you. If Emily does not go, I believe I will accept you offer," she replied.

  "Your friend, Lonnie―has nothing been heard of him? Does anyone know who was the last person to see him?" Madeline asked.

  Matthew said, "Some say he was with him, and that Lonnie may have fought and killed Cliff, and then disappeared to avoid prosecution.

  "Supposedly, Lonnie learned of Clifford's intention to propose to Emma. I heard Lonnie told his brother that Clifford was embarking on an impossible scheme, and he was going to stop him. His brother also said a girl at the jewelry store informed him that Clifford had already purchased a ring. Lonnie went into a lather then, according to his brother, and left the house saying he was going to prevent him from making a fool of himself. We have not seen him since then. That's all anyone knows."

  "Did Lonnie have the temperament to commit murder?" asked Madeline.

  Oliver interrupted, "If I may be allowed to answer that question for all men. Madeline, you are a woman. I'm sure, at some time, you have experienced ardent love, no one of beauty and charm like yours, escapes it. Men, we can prove weak and ridiculous when captured by what we think is our true love, especially one as daunting as, Miss Emma, who is always running, and trying to escape marriage. It can make a man think and act in unpredictable ways, and in a heated moment, yes, I think it possible that murder could be one of those actions. It is as old as time."

  Matthew added, "It's true, Lonnie was besotted with her, as I was. I don't know the answer to how he would react, if he felt Clifford, as one of his best friends, knew of his feelings, yet was poised to wed his love. The other curious item is, I never really heard Clifford speak of Emma in the affectionate way that Lonnie did. None of us gave any mind to Clifford's attempt to pursue Emma. He was an unlikely match, ordinary, not a bit handsome at all, and not a man of means."