“Huh, that’s interesting. Maybe it was a rat or pumpkin eating pest like you first thought.”
“No, they said it was definitely human blood. I’m heading out to the Kent house right now to have another look at things.”
I bit my lip, thinking how much I would love to do the same. He seemed to read my mind.
“I’ll let you know if I find anything. You get on with your day.”
“Yes, I know. Official police business and all that. Well then, like you said, I’ll get on with my day.”
“See you later, Miss Pinkerton.”
Lola came out of her shop with her purse. She watched Detective Briggs turn the corner as she headed across the street. “You have Dash as a neighbor and the illustrious Detective Briggs, who is as rare to spot as a striped cheetah, makes a stop on the street just to chat with you. I’m proud to call you my friend, Pink.”
“Yes, it’s a glamorous life I lead.” I punctuated my words with an eye roll. “Shall we?”
“Yes.”
We strolled past Elsie’s tables. Two of them were filled. Maybe the flower idea had worked. Lester hadn’t put out the flowers he’d traded his special hazelnut brew for, but I was sure he would soon enough.
The Mod Frock Vintage Clothing boutique was as vibrant and lofty as its owner. The nearly blinding white lacquer paint on the exterior was thankfully punctuated with arched glass windows. The wall of bright white, a white that put to shame a hill of freshly fallen snow, was bordered by a slim entryway lined with used brick and an ivory door with a peep window that mirrored the arches of the front windows. Miss Yardley had purchased thick doormats emblazoned with the Mod Frock logo. I decided that since she’d ‘lifted’ my sidewalk chalkboard display idea, I could ‘lift’ her logo doormat idea.
“I noticed that after you started posting chalk signs about your grand opening, Kate suddenly had a chalkboard display too,” Lola muttered as we walked inside.
“Yes, I noticed that.”
I stood inside, mouth gaping. As proud as I’d been of the way my shop looked, I was feeling a bit deflated. My eyes swept around the store. There was no denying Kate Yardley’s wonderful sense of style and taste. Upon entering, a customer’s eyes were pulled in every direction. The south wall contained four impressive sets of mounted elk antlers displaying colorful scarves, long strands of beads and silver hoop earrings. The shabby chic milk paint tables in the center of the store were cluttered with mod Twiggy inspired confections like pill box hats, neon plastic bauble bracelets and union jack tshirts. The racks were filled to the brim with the colors, fabrics and styles of yesteryear, a time when wild paisleys, dangerously short minis and glossy knee high boots ran wild in the streets. Thank goodness we figured out it was a style that should never be covered by layers of time.
Kate came out of the back and gave me a quick once over. “I have the perfect dress for you. Size 8?”
“Size 6,” I corrected.
She stopped to do a double take. “Maybe you’re retaining water,” she said casually.
I shot a look at Lola, who winked back at me in return.
“Actually, I wanted to formally introduce myself.” I followed Kate to the rack where she was rummaging through some dresses.
Kate looked up at me. She had flawless skin and was even prettier up close. She removed her hands from the dresses for a second to shake mine. “Kate and you’re Lacey. Or Pink, according to Elsie. Nice to meet you. Now where did that dress go to? It has a long zipper up the front and—”
“I was interested in the shiny black boots in the window. What size are they?”
She stopped looking for the dress and turned back to me. “Those boots are gone. Theresa Jones was in here just yesterday afternoon. She bought them. Although they were a little snug around her thick calves. I guess she’s feeling a little renewed now that—” She stopped and seemed to think better of churning out gossip with the tragedy still so fresh. “I joked with her, telling her she had to stop looking so happy or people would think she killed Bev herself.”
Or maybe not.
Lola and I both gasped simultaneously. (And silently.) It seemed Kate was the type to say whatever was on her mind.
“You didn’t.” Lola was the first to find her tongue. “How on earth did she react to that?”
“She was so angry and upset I thought she’d throw the boots back in my face. Guess I wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction.” Kate shrugged, vibrating the long strands of beads she had hanging around her neck. “But she took the boots anyhow. I can let you know the second I get in another pair.”
“That would be great.” Suddenly, I had an urge to get out to Beverly’s house and see just what Detective Briggs was finding during his inspection. It seemed as if the list of possible suspects just kept growing.
Chapter 27
Detective Briggs’ car was still parked out front of the Kent farm. He wasn’t standing in the pumpkin patch. I walked into the yard just as he was coming around from the back of the house. He didn’t look all that surprised to see me, and he didn’t look as annoyed as usual. I took both as a good sign that he’d take me along on his inspection of the property.
“I wondered what took you so long,” Briggs commented as he walked around to the front porch.
“I went shopping. And to be honest, I wasn’t too sure how I would be received.” I followed along next to him. “But now that I know you were expecting me, is there something specific we’re looking for?”
He reached up and ran his fingers along the top of the door jamb. “I was hoping to find a key. The back door was locked, and I couldn’t find an open window.”
“So we’re breaking and entering?”
Briggs stopped and looked at me with a minor twisted grin. “You are. I’m a detective.”
“In that case—” I walked over to the large potted rubber plant at the corner of the porch. I reached inside the plant and circled the base of it until my fingertips hit metal. I pulled the key out. “I’ll just use a key rather than get arrested.”
“The potted plant,” he mused. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”
“It’s kind of an obvious place to hide a key. Which also makes it an unsafe place to hide a key.” I turned the lock and smiled at him. “Maybe your detective brain pushed it off as too simple.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s it.” He put his hand up. “Uh, I’ll go in first.” He patted his shirt pocket. “Badge, remember?”
I waved my hand with a flourish. “Of course, after you.”
The house had been closed up for two days, and it smelled like two day old fried chicken. “You haven’t been in the house yet?” I asked.
“Actually, I sent Chinmoor in the first evening to look around. He must have been the one to lock the back door. He found no evidence of foul play and everything looked as expected. At that time, there wasn’t much to go on. But I thought we might find some evidence that could help figure out what happened to Beverly. Just not sure what we’re looking for yet.”
I had a wide grin by the time he was done. “And why do you look like the Cheshire cat right now, Miss Pinkerton?”
“No reason except you said we twice in your last statement.”
“Did I? I was talking about Chinmoor and me.”
“Oh, right, your partner.”
“He’s not my partner.” He headed toward the kitchen.
I decided to stray into the first bedroom. There was a sweater on the bed and a brush and comb on the dresser. It seemed this was the bedroom Beverly used. A touch of sadness swept over me as I looked around at her things, her bedroom slippers, hand lotion, reading glasses on the nightstand, all waiting for her to come in for the evening.
A white antique vanity and stool were in the corner near the window. A velvet lined jewelry box, the vintage kind with the tiny ballerina that starts twirling to music, sat open on the vanity. The ballerina stood perfectly still, and there was no music. Three necklaces were piled car
elessly next to the box. A few bracelets and rings still sat inside.
I thought back to Beverly as she lay in her pumpkin patch. I couldn’t remember seeing any jewelry. Since I’d touched her neck to check for signs of a pulse, I was sure there was no necklace. Maybe she had taken them off to work outside. That certainly made sense. What didn’t make sense was why she would’ve opened the jewelry box and dumped the necklaces into a heap next to it. And why would she have been wearing three necklaces at once?
I got up and circled the room. Things certainly looked in order and as if Beverly’s day had started in the normal way. Her slippers were tucked neatly next to the bed, and her bath robe was hanging from a hook on the door. Other than the jewelry, everything was neat and orderly. It seemed Beverly was a fastidious housekeeper.
I walked to the nightstand and picked up the magazine she’d been reading called Farmhouse Basics. It had articles about raising chickens, canning preserves and baking the perfect biscuit. Everything you would expect in a magazine called Farmhouse Basics. As I returned the magazine to its place on the nightstand, I noticed an article that had been torn out from a newspaper. I picked it up.
“Local Nursery hits the big time. Daryl Featherton’s hybrid seeds are about to find a home with Buffy Seed company, one of the biggest seed distributors in the country. Featherton has been perfecting a pumpkin seed that grows what he claims are the biggest, hardiest squash in the world. The contract has not been signed yet, but prospects look good for the Chesterton business owner.”
“Miss Pinkerton,” Detective Briggs poked his head into the room. “You haven’t touched anything, have you?”
“Only this. I found it under a magazine. Oh, and I touched the magazine. But that’s it.” I handed it to him and let him read it as I did one last sweep of the room with my eyes. A glint of silver underneath the vanity caught my attention. I walked over and reached down for the piece of foil. It was the inside of a gum wrapper.
I lifted it to my nose. “Spearmint.”
“What?”
I turned back to him and held up the wrapper. “Spearmint gum.”
“Maybe Beverly liked chewing gum,” he suggested as he tucked the article into his pocket. “Interesting article. Not sure how it would connect Featherton to a motive. Unless we can find something that actually puts him here at the farm, it’ll be hard to find a reason to bring him in for questioning.”
“True.” I held up the gum wrapper. “But this might be evidence that puts someone else at the scene. Someone who has a motive. The old standby—jealousy.”
“Oh?”
“Theresa Jones is married to William Jones.”
“The fisherman?”
“Yes, and back in high school, he and Beverly were sweethearts. According to Lola, from Lola’s Antiques, William and Beverly were still overly fond of each other.” I stopped and a spark of light came to me. “The jewelry box. I wonder if it has anything to do with the class ring that William bought back from Lola.”
“Miss Pinkerton, you’ve lost me. What about the gum wrapper?”
“Theresa Jones chews gum. When I met her she had a big wad in her mouth. She was working that thing like a pro. I smelled spearmint on her breath. She might even chew it just to smell something fresher than dead fish all day.” I lifted the wrapper again. “This was a stick of spearmint gum. It was under the vanity where, oddly enough, Beverly’s jewelry box was open. For some reason, she left her necklaces in a pile on the vanity.”
“So someone might have been looking for something in the jewelry box? You think the motive was to steal? The rest of the house seems untouched.”
“Not stealing for money. Earlier this week there was an incident with William’s old class ring. Theresa had sold it to Lola with a box of old things she was getting rid of. William came into the shop frantically looking for the ring. According to Lola, it was strung on a thin gold chain. William bought it back from Lola.”
“You think he bought it to give it back to Beverly?”
“If they had been high school sweethearts—”
“She probably wore that necklace when they were a couple,” he finished for me.
“It seems we make a good team, Detective Briggs.”
He responded with a very guarded smile.
Chapter 28
I finished drying the two dishes I’d used for my grilled cheese dinner and followed the moonlight out to my front porch. Kingston had long since gone to sleep, but evening hours were Nevermore’s time to shine. The cat, tail straight in air, padded down the front steps to chase moths and other night creatures.
I pulled out my notepad. I’d decided to write down all the possible clues in Beverly’s death and see if I could make sense of any of them. I sat down on the top step and was just about to start when I noticed Nevermore’s tail fluff out in full defense mode. I looked in the direction the cat was staring.
Dash was coming across his driveway with Captain at his side. Nevermore stood stiff as a statue, apparently thinking no one could see him if he didn’t move, even standing beneath the glow of the streetlights. When he saw that Captain was one of those dogs that had zero interest in cats he returned to his moth hunt.
Dash was wearing a blue flannel shirt that went nicely with his suntanned skin. He had splashed on some aftershave. It took me a second to block it out so as not to be overwhelmed by the spicy scent of it.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked. I briefly wondered what woman in her right mind would say no to that.
“Not at all.” I scooted over.
Captain plopped down at the bottom of the steps, and Dash sat next to me.
“Working on a business plan?” he asked.
“Now what kind of business woman would I be if I started the plan just a few days from actually opening the business?”
“Very good point, and it shows just how much I know about business.” He leaned back on his hands and stretched out his long legs. His ankles ended up three steps down. Sitting next to him really put his size into perspective. “I spent the day working on a big, rusty fishing trawler that is so old she needs to be put out of her misery. It was a long day.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” As much as I enjoyed a visit from my neighbor, I was also anxious to get to my list. I decided to write down a few things while he seemed occupied with the night sky.
My pen scratched out some bubbles. I put initials under each bubble for the three people who I had narrowed down on my suspect list, namely Theresa Jones, Virgina Hopkins and Daryl Featherton. I quickly wrote class ring, jealousy, chewing gum and cheery mood in the bubble over T.J. The bubble for V.H. had pumpkin in shears and pumpkin competition. And the D.F. bubble was even less inspired with hybrid pumpkin seeds and argument with Beverly.
“It’s a good thing that isn’t a business plan, otherwise I’d advise you to shutter the doors before you even open.”
Astonishingly, I’d nearly forgotten about Dash sitting next to me.
“I suppose it does look a little crazy.”
He sat forward and pointed to the pumpkin competition. “That comical pumpkin contest is such a big deal. Now it won’t be much of a competition without Beverly. Don’t know what our even more comical mayor will do. He takes his judge position very seriously, but there is hardly a need for him at all.”
I looked over at Dash. “Mayor Price is the judge?”
He laughed. “Most important part of his silly job. Also Helen Voight, in the yellow house at the end of our street, is the co-judge. If there’s such a thing. So have you been up to Hawksworth Manor at night? We could go. There are always plenty of unexplained sounds to curdle the blood and set a vivid imagination on fire.”
I shook my head. “No thanks. It wasn’t a lot of fun during the day. It sounds even less inviting at night.”
He laughed. “Thought you were more adventurous than that.”
“I am. But only when there’s a lot of light.”
“Do you always hang out wit
h detectives?” The question came so unexpectedly and out of thin air that I was almost not sure I’d heard it.
“If you’re talking about Detective Briggs, then we weren’t hanging out. He was giving me a ride home because I’d stayed out too late to ride safely home on my bicycle. He was just watching out for one of Port Danby’s citizens.”
“Hey, Lacey, I meant nothing by it. Sorry for bringing it up.” He’d obviously detected the bit of anger in my tone.
I had to admit the icy exchange of glances the night before, when Briggs dropped me at home, still had me curious. Since he’d brought the subject up first, I decided I had every right to pry a bit. “Do you and the detective know each other well?”
He paused. “Not really. We grew up in the same schools in Chesterton, and we were on the high school football team together. But that’s where the acquaintance ends.”
“I see. Just curious.” Growing up with someone and playing on the same football team seemed like it needed a better word than acquaintance, but maybe they hardly ever spoke during those years.
I yawned and stretched. “Seems the long day is finally getting to me. I think I’ll head inside.”
“Yep, I’m pretty tired myself.” He stood up and politely offered me his hand. I put mine in his. It was a strong hand, and the callus of hard work was built up on the palm and fingertips. He popped me to my feet and bowed his head. “Good night, neighbor.” He walked down the steps and stopped at the bottom. “Try not to get locked in any haunted houses tomorrow.”
I smiled. “I’ll try my best to avoid that.”
Chapter 29
Lola opened the front door to the shop as I finished filling a nifty little triple tiered display with note cards. I looked toward the front window. A clammy mist had covered the town for most of the morning, but the sun was finally starting to make some headway.
“It’s starting to clear up,” I said. “Not that it matters now. The bike ride to the shop already sent my freshly washed hair into curlicue overdrive.” I pulled on one strand. It bounced back like a coiled spring. “My hair is going to be the one drawback of living by the sea.”
Marigolds and Murder (Port Danby Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 12