by Cindy Bell
Suffocating the Sunflowers
A Heavenly Highland Inn Cozy Mystery
Cindy Bell
Copyright © 2014 Cindy Bell
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
All trademarks and brands referred to in this book are for illustrative purposes only, are the property of their respective owners and not affiliated with this publication in any way. Any trademarks are being used without permission, and the publication of the trademark is not authorized by, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owner.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter One
The dew covered leaves on the bushes glistened in the sun as the gardener leaned closer to a bright yellow blossom that had bloomed overnight.
“Have you ever seen anything so exquisite?” he asked with admiration. Vicky smiled at the man. She loved to see anyone with passion for their work, and felt very lucky that he had recently started working at the Heavenly Highland Inn. She and her older sister, Sarah, had the same passion for the beautiful, old inn that they had inherited after their parents passed. At first it had been an adjustment for Vicky to settle into a life as the Events Director of the inn, she was used to roaming as she pleased. But ever since she and her sister had taken over the day to day running of the inn, Vicky had found a passion for their childhood home, and the happiness it brought to those who visited it. She considered it her responsibility to create lasting and treasured memories for their guests, as special and beautiful as the blossom that the gardener was admiring.
“It is stunning,” Vicky agreed as she leaned down to take a proper look at the flower. Just as she was standing back up, the peaceful morning was ripped to shreds by the sound of an obnoxiously loud motorcycle. Vicky narrowed her eyes and turned in the direction of the large, sweeping driveway that sloped uphill. She watched as a big, black motorcycle with bright green accents roared right up to the front of the inn. Vicky was suspicious as she watched. Most of their guests tended to be the very wealthy and the elite of not just the country, but the world. Despite the fact that their inn was in a small town that most people had never heard of, it had an amazing reputation for luxury, privacy, and of course, excellent parties and events. So, to see a motorcycle pull up was quite unusual.
Vicky continued to observe as the driver of the motorcycle climbed off. The person had a very slight frame and Vicky guessed that it was a woman, but she couldn't tell too much because of the big, black helmet that covered her head, the black leather jacket she wore, the matching black leather pants, and the high, black boots that finished off the outfit. As the figure walked towards her, Vicky began to grow a little more anxious. She glanced over at the gardener who seemed to be just as confused as she was.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a stern voice as the person completely covered in black paused before her. She even had gloves covering her hands, which raised to the sides of her helmet and tugged it upward. Vicky gasped when her Aunt Ida's face was revealed. Her Aunt Ida had lived at the inn for as long as she could remember. After Vicky's parents died she became a very important part of her life, as well as her sister's. But Aunt Ida, despite being advanced in age, was not one to sit back and knit or watch re-runs. She was the most vivacious and exhausting person that Vicky knew, and she never failed to come up with a new way to surprise her nieces, including the fact that she had dyed her hair black, and caked her lips with a red lipstick so bright that Vicky suspected it might have been some kind of paint instead of make-up.
“Aunt Ida?” she asked with wide eyes and a slow shake of her head. “What are you up to, now?”
“That's what I'd like to know,” Sarah said as she stepped out of the front door of the inn. Vicky assumed she had come to find out what all the noise had been. The gardener took his cue to leave as the three women who ran the inn together stood beside each other. Sarah narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. Vicky tried not to laugh as Aunt Ida unzipped her leather jacket to reveal a skin-tight, black t-shirt with a skull and crossbones on the front.
Although, Vicky and Sarah knew Aunt Ida's true age, at least they thought they did, Aunt Ida could easily pass for being in her forties. She was a gorgeous woman with or without make-up, and she had a figure that no amount of dieting, exercising or body-shaping had ever been able to give Vicky. She easily gained the attention of many of their male guests, but she was not one to dwell on one man for very long.
“Aunt Ida, please don't tell me that thing belongs to you,” Sarah said crossly as she studied her aunt. Sarah was a few years older than Vicky, but they couldn't have more different lives. Sarah was married to a wonderful man, and had children of her own. She lived in a house nearby, and always put her family first in every decision she made, especially when it came to taking risks. Vicky on the other hand took after her Aunt Ida, she had her independent spirit and preferred to explore the world, and live each moment to the fullest. She was currently in her longest-lasting relationship, with to everyone's surprise, a newly appointed detective within the local police department.
“Of course it's mine, didn't you see the plate?” Aunt Ida asked and pointed out the vanity plate on the back of the motorcycle. It said 'Ida's Ride'.
“Oh my,” Sarah sighed and shook her head. “Don't you realize how dangerous motorcycles are?” she asked.
“Dangerous if you don't know what you're doing,” Aunt Ida agreed. “I took a class!”
“Just one class?” Vicky asked nervously as she studied her aunt. She was a slender woman, but she had no problem taking care of herself. She had a black belt and knew exactly how to use it. However, a black belt wouldn't protect her from road rash.
“No, not just one,” Ida replied with a gleam in her eyes. “Actually, it was several classes, and a few dinners,” she wiggled her eyebrows.
“Oh, Aunt Ida,” Sarah sighed heavily.
“What's a couple of meals between friends?” Ida giggled.
“Oh, Aunt Ida,” Vicky laughed and rolled her eyes. “You're always getting into something.”
“Something amazing,” Aunt Ida corrected. “I opened this baby up on a back country road, and it felt like I was flying!”
“You weren't speeding, were you?” Sarah demanded impatiently. “Don't you realize what could happen if you got into an accident?”
“I'm not going to get into an accident,” Aunt Ida pursed her red lips, she always had the attitude that life was worth living and not to limit your enjoyment of it because of something that might never happen. “Unfortunately, we know that accidents can happen even if you are very cautious and doing everything right,” Aunt Ida said, referring to the tragic accident that had killed the sisters’ parents. “I will never overstep the mark and risk my life or anyone else’s.”
“I know, but…” Sarah started to say.
“Listen, you two wet blankets, you're not going to ruin my fun. Now,
if either of you want a ride, you just let me know, otherwise, you keep your noses out of it!”
Vicky had to suppress another laugh as she always found it amusing when her aunt was angry. She was very dramatic when she was offended.
“We will,” Vicky promised, though Sarah didn't look as convinced. “But, just remember, no speeding.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ida waved her hand and walked away on her tall, black boots.
“Do you think she's getting a little senile?” Sarah asked as she stepped closer to her sister.
“Not at all,” Vicky laughed and shook her head. “Aunt Ida just likes to try new things.”
“I guess, but doesn't it worry you? Motorcycles are not safe!” Sarah said with conviction.
“Well, I think Aunt Ida can make her own choices,” Vicky said confidently. “I'm sure she'll be as cautious as she needs to be.”
“Aunt Ida? Cautious?” Sarah shook her head and walked away. Vicky turned back to take one last look at the beautiful garden. She had no idea what the day had in store for her, but she was certain that it was going to be interesting.
***
Not long after Aunt Ida roared off on her motorcycle, another vehicle that commanded Vicky's attention just as much pulled into the driveway of the inn. It was a shiny Aston Martin, one of the most expensive cars in existence. Although, the inn normally catered to wealthy clients, this car was one that Vicky had never laid eyes on in person before. She wasn't impressed very much by expensive things, but she had to admit, that the sleek, silver car was beautiful.
Vicky walked towards it as a couple stepped out of the car. The man appeared to be in his early forties with his sandy, blonde hair thinning slightly on top. He wore reflective sunglasses, and a tailored suit. The woman who paused beside him was statuesque in height, having at least two inches on the man who Vicky assumed was her husband. She had deeply tanned skin, and her hair was a mixture of light brown and chocolate brown. She wore a simple pants suit that was accentuated by exquisite crystal jewelry. Her almond shaped eyes were a deep brown shade that seemed more open and accepting than critical, until they swung towards her husband.
“Are you going to get the bags?” she asked him impatiently.
“I'm sure they have someone to do that,” he replied dismissively and reached up to take off his sunglasses. It was in that moment that Vicky recognized him. She had seen him on the cover of a magazine. He was considered one of the countries luckiest men because he had married into one of the richest families in the United States. The Lambards owned many businesses including the most recent and the most profitable addition, a steel manufacturing plant.
The addition of the plant had made the family even wealthier. Now, the heiress to the Lambard family fortune, Sandy Holstead, was standing in front of the inn looking around expectantly. Vicky wasn't aware of any high profile clients arriving so early in the day, and she assumed that her sister wasn't aware of their arrival either. She hurried across the parking lot towards the Holsteads and attempted to portray the same professional image her sister would.
“Hello,” she greeted them both with a warm smile. “I'm Vicky, and I'm one of the owners of the Heavenly Highland Inn,” she explained as they both turned to look at her. “I can get your bags, if you'd like.”
“Wonderful,” Mr. Holstead said and dropped the keys to the car into Vicky's outstretched palm. “They're in the trunk, but please do be careful not to tear the upholstery or scuff the trunk when you take the bags out,” he spoke very carefully to her, as if he were explaining something to a child. Vicky tightened her lips a little, but only nodded respectfully.
“Oh, Gerald, relax, it's just a car not a piece of art,” Sandy said dismissively and smiled apologetically at Vicky.
“See, that's the problem,” Gerald huffed as he turned to face his wife, his annoyance clear in the crease of his brow. “Just because it's not hanging on a museum wall somewhere doesn't mean that it's not art, Sandy. This car is priceless, and perfect, and I want to keep it that way.”
“Well, it certainly did have a price,” Sandy replied in an abrasive tone. “A very large and ridiculous price as I recall.”
“Here we go again,” Gerald sighed and hung his head in defeat. “I thought this weekend was supposed to be about us calling a truce?” he asked as he met his wife's eyes. Vicky couldn't help but overhear the spat as she pulled the luggage out of the trunk of the car. It surprised her that people with so much money could still have so much difficulty in life. But then, money doesn't create happiness, Vicky had seen that with the guests at the inn often enough to believe in that saying. As she hauled the large suitcases up to the porch Sarah walked out of the front door.
“Oh, are the Holsteads here already?” she asked with surprise. “They weren't supposed to arrive until this evening.”
“Trust me, you don't want to cause any more friction between those two,” Vicky warned as she hobbled past her sister with the bags. “Just find them a room away from other guests, because I don't think they're going to make it through the night without an explosive argument.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Sarah murmured before she walked out to greet the Holsteads.
Vicky placed the bags on a luggage cart. Then she charged a concierge with their care. As she walked back towards the kitchen to check on the meal preparation for lunch, she could hear the Holsteads squabbling over whether they wanted a room that overlooked the gardens or the pool.
Chapter Two
When Vicky stepped into the kitchen she found Chef Henry dancing around the large island in the middle of it. He had some lively music playing and seemed to be very involved in preparing the last of the breakfast meals as he dashed them with salt and pepper to the beat of the music. Vicky suppressed a giggle and decided not to interrupt him, but before she could back away and slip through the door, Sarah stepped in behind her.
“Wow, he's really got some moves,” Sarah said with appreciation and a laugh as she nudged Vicky with her elbow.
“Oh!” Henry stopped in the middle of a spin to find both sisters staring at him. “How long have you been watching?” he asked with a cluck of his tongue, and narrowed eyes.
“Long enough to know that you're dancing with me at the next wedding we put on,” Vicky said with a determined grin dancing across her lips.
“And what would Mitchell think?” Sarah asked reproachfully though her eyes were shining with mirth.
“He'd probably feel relieved that he wouldn't end up with bruises on his feet,” Vicky laughed and shook her head. “I'm not exactly the most graceful person on the dance floor,” she added in a whisper, as if it was a confession.
“Oh honey, I could change that,” Henry said with a light wink as a waitress came to take the breakfast plates to the dining room. “Now, what can I do for you two?”
Sarah set her lips into a grim line and Vicky could tell from her straightened posture that she had just shifted into business mode.
“I need you to do me a favor and gather all of the products that contain peanuts in the kitchen. I need you to make sure the kitchen is wiped down and all the utensils and dishes are cleaned,” Sarah said firmly.
“Why?” Vicky asked with confusion as Henry nodded in response to Sarah's requests and began to gather a few items off the counter.
“Sandy Holstead is allergic to peanuts,” Sarah explained as she glanced over at Vicky. “If she's exposed to it she has such a severe allergic reaction that she could die.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Henry exclaimed.
“I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly,” Sarah added with a frown. “I thought we'd have until this evening to prepare, but they arrived early.”
“It's no problem,” Henry assured her.
“Oh, it must be hard to go through life with such a terrible allergy,” Vicky said with a frown. “Yes, we had better make sure everything in the inn is safe.”
“I am,” Sarah assured her. “I asked Sandy and Gera
ld to wait out by the pool while I made sure their room was deep cleaned. I just hope she doesn't end up pushing him in,” she added with widened eyes.
“Well, maybe it would cool off their bickering,” Vicky giggled and ducked when Sarah took a swipe at her with her palm. “Kidding!” Vicky promised, but Sarah set her jaw.
“It is very important that everything goes to plan during their stay, they could be a great source of high-end referrals for us,” she explained.
“We can store the non-perishables out in the shed,” Henry suggested as he grabbed a box from the supply closet. He began boxing up items immediately. Vicky was about to ask Sarah if she knew how the Holsteads had come to book a weekend at their relatively small resort. It was luxurious of course, but the Holsteads could afford to go to other countries, or even to rent their own island so, as always, she was interested to know why they had chosen their inn. It was always useful to have this information as it often helped with marketing. Before she could ask, her cell phone began to ring. She checked the caller ID and found that it was Mitchell. She answered right away with a smile.
“Hey stranger,” she said with a playful southern drawl.
“Who are you and what have you done with my Vicky?” Mitchell demanded in a playful response.
“Ha ha,” Vicky laughed into the phone. “You would not believe what I just saw!” she said with excitement.
“What?” he asked with interest building.
“A real Aston Martin, in person!” she squealed into the phone as she stepped out of the kitchen.
“At a car show?” Mitchell asked with disbelief.
“No, at the inn,” she laughed as she walked down the hall. “The Holsteads are staying at the inn.”
“Oh, wow,” Mitchell said, genuinely impressed. “You must have your hands full.”
“Not really,” she said quickly. “Sarah's handling most of it. I was hoping you might be able to meet me for dinner tonight. I know it's short notice,” she added. She and Mitchell hadn't seen each other much lately though they had talked on the phone every day.