“Oh, but surely you can’t think you’re in danger.” Miss Aggie wasn’t normally timid, but this wasn’t the first time she’d almost gone to pieces when a death occurred.
“I am a Pennington, you know. Who’s to say I’m not in danger?”
The phone rang, and I excused myself.
“Cedar Lodge.”
“Miss Storm?” The female voice was unfamiliar.
“Yes, this is Victoria Storm.”
“My name is Laura Baker. I’m Clyde Foster’s daughter, calling from St. Louis. I understand you’re the person who discovered my father’s body.” She paused, and I heard her breathing heavily.
“Yes, I did. I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms. Baker.” A daughter? This was news to me.
“Yes, well.” She hesitated and then continued. “Would you be willing to meet with me while I’m in Cedar Chapel?”
“Yes, of course. But I’ve told Sheriff Turner all I know.”
“I’m sure you have, but perhaps you’ll think of something more if we talk for a while.” Once more the hesitation. “To be honest, Miss Storm, I’m not entirely certain my father’s death was an accident.”
CHAPTER THREE
I stepped inside the pet store and paused, half expecting to hear Whatzit’s cheery greeting.
“Miss Storm?” The woman who walked toward me appeared to be late middle-aged, with graying hair and sad eyes.
“Yes, I’m Victoria Storm.” I took the hand she extended.
The German shepherd puppies across the room started a racket, and Laura Baker smiled and shook her head.
“Won’t you come upstairs? I’m not in the mood to try to talk above the din. Anyway, my daughter is preparing tea for us.”
We went upstairs, and she motioned me to a matching pair of chairs in the corner. Chairs that hadn’t been there when I searched the place. Apparently Mrs. Baker planned to be comfortable while she was here. I was relieved to see the window open, allowing fresh air into the room.
A young woman, carrying a tray with tea things, came through the door from the tiny kitchen. She stared at me through dark brown eyes that turned up slightly at the outer corners. I suspected the effect was from cosmetics. She set the tray on the table between her mother and me, then pulled up the desk chair. She sat and crossed her legs.
“Miss Storm, this is my daughter, Christiana.”
I held out my hand toward the girl, and she stared at it silently for a few seconds before giving it a brief shake. Her sullen look detracted from a face that should have been beautiful. Black hair fell in waves halfway down her back, and the pouty lips looked like something out of the magazines that women didn’t want their husbands looking at.
I wasn’t sure why, but something about her made me extremely uncomfortable.
Laura poured tea then settled back against the cushion and cleared her throat.
“I appreciate your coming here today. I’m sure you’re busy. I understand you own and operate a boardinghouse for senior citizens.”
“Yes. But I don’t mind. Although as I told you on the phone, I’m not sure what I can tell you that you don’t already know.”
I related the incident of finding Clyde and calling the sheriff. I told her exactly what I saw when Buster and I entered the room.
“I don’t know if the sheriff told you or not, but we have the parrot at Cedar Lodge. One of the ladies there is taking care of him.”
“The parrot? Do you mean Whatzit is still alive?” For the first time, animation appeared on Christiana’s countenance.
“Alive and well.”
“I’d forgotten about Whatzit.” Laura chuckled. “My mother hated that parrot.”
“But why did you take him home with you?” Christiana demanded. Hostility blazed from her eyes. “Who gave you that right?”
“Tiana! Don’t be rude.” Laura frowned at her daughter, then gave me an apologetic look.
“Miss Aggie was a good friend of Clyde’s. She often took care of Whatzit when he had to be out of town overnight.” I spoke directly to Laura, deliberately avoiding the accusing eyes of her daughter. “The poor bird was very distraught, screeching uncontrollably. Apparently he was with Clyde when he died.”
“I’m sure it was very kind of the lady to take care of my father’s parrot. Please excuse my daughter. She never had a chance to meet her grandfather, and his death has upset her.”
“Of course, I understand.” Although to me, the girl appeared more angry than grieved, but then I didn’t know her.
“Mrs. Baker, you said you questioned if your father’s death was an accident.” I wasn’t about to let that one go unexplored. “Would you mind explaining what you meant?”
“It’s more a feeling than anything else.” She bit her lip and turned clouded eyes to me. “You see, my mother suspected for years that he’d been involved in something illegal. She was afraid of something. Whether some sort of retribution or not, I don’t know. She never said. But I think that’s why she left him when she found out she was expecting a child. Me.”
“But that was years ago. What would make you think it’s connected to his death?”
“I’m not sure. But don’t you think the circumstances are strange?”
Of course I thought they were, but I wasn’t ready to tell her that. Or to reveal any of the suspicions we had concerning Clyde’s death.
“Have you mentioned your concerns to Sheriff Turner?”
She sighed. “Yes, unfortunately. He patted me on the arm and told me not to let my imagination run away with me.”
No surprise. I knew from experience that even if he took her seriously he wouldn’t let on.
I took a last sip of tea and stood. “Laura, if there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Thank you again for coming. And if you think of anything else, please let me know.”
I gave her a noncommittal nod and then realized I was doing the same thing to her that Sheriff Turner always did to me. But it couldn’t be helped. Not until I was sure I could trust her.
I turned to Christiana and smiled. She turned away abruptly and began to gather up the tea things.
Sweeten up your attitude, young lady. The same words my grandmother used to say to me now ran through my head toward Christiana Baker.
I grinned as I descended the stairs and let myself out of the shop. But as I started the van and headed home, I could still see the venom coming from the girl’s eyes. Why in the world was she so hostile to me? Or was that just her nature? Maybe I was taking her bad manners too personally. Imagining something that wasn’t there.
But I was pretty sure someone had killed Clyde. For all I knew, it could have been Laura and her daughter. Although, I had no idea what their motive would be.
I arrived at the lodge to find no one there except Mabel. She was dusting the mantel in the great room. I stood and looked at the picture of my third-great-grandfather, Franklin Storm, who’d come to this country as an indentured servant.
Mabel started as she turned and saw me standing in the doorway.
“Mercy, I didn’t hear you come in. You should have said something.”
“Sorry, I was deep in thought, I guess.” I grinned, and she grinned back.
“Where is everyone?”
“Every last one of them went to the senior center, and they’re all staying there for lunch.”
“Oh, then you don’t need to bother to cook. I’ll just grab a sandwich and eat at my desk.”
I started to leave, then turned back. “Mabel! Why are you cleaning? You don’t have to do that.”
“Go on about your business,” she said, shaking the feather duster my way. “It won’t hurt you to take a little help, and it won’t hurt me to do it. You can’t take care of this big place by yourself.”
“Okay, in that case, thanks. I can, without a doubt, use the help.” The only housekeeping staff I had at the moment was a teenage girl who helped out on Saturdays. I’d been planning to put
an ad in the paper but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Sandwich in hand, I sat at my desk and picked up the account book. I stared at it a moment, then laid it aside and opened the drawer where I kept writing materials.
It was time to organize my thoughts, and for me, that meant starting a list.
Clyde Foster: Victim of accident or murder?
Clues:
1. Whatzit’s frantic cries of “No, no, get out.”
2. Fragment of paper with letters n-n-e-l.
3. Suspicion of Clyde’s illegal activities.
Possible Suspects:
1. Laura Baker (But why would she question the accident theory if she’d killed him?)
2. Christiana Baker?
I read the list over. This was pathetic, I had no evidence whatsoever. Only a hunch and a big imagination. I tossed the notebook and pen into the drawer and went to work on the accounts. By the time the seniors came home at three o’clock, I’d made a pretty good dent in the paperwork.
“Victoria! Where are you?” A moment later, Miss Georgina burst into the room, followed closely by Miss Jane and Miss Aggie.
“Aggie was right, Victoria.” Miss Jane’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Clyde was murdered.”
“It seems that way,” Miss Georgina added.
“Yes,” said Miss Aggie. “And it’s a good thing we searched the shop when we did, because Bob has declared it a crime scene.”
I wasn’t surprised when Sheriff Turner called and asked me to come to his office. I ran upstairs to grab a sweater, as the temperature had started dropping again around noon.
When I got to the van, I found Miss Aggie in the front passenger seat, and the rest of the seniors occupied thesecond and third seats. I knew from their determined faces it wouldn’t do any good to protest. They weren’t about to miss whatever might happen. I was relieved to notice that Miss Aggie seemed to have conquered her fears. At least she hadn’t made any immediate plans to leave.
Tom Lewis gave us a sour look as we crowded through the door.
“The sheriff only needs Victoria. The rest of you might as well go home because you’re not going back there.”
His voice revealed his doubt that anyone would pay attention to him.
“Would you please tell Bob we’re here, Tom?” Miss Evalina gave the deputy a pointed look.
“Okay, fine.” He threw his arms up and headed back to Sheriff Turner’s office.
The front door opened, and Benjamin walked in.
“Mabel told me what’s going on. Thought I’d join you.”
Martin cackled. “Yeah, like he’s gonna let a reporter in there.”
“Ben, you shouldn’t have come!” Miss Aggie snapped. “Now they probably won’t let anyone in but Victoria.”
Which proved to be true, and which was fine with me.
All I had to do was repeat what I’d told the sheriff before, sign a statement, and then I was out of there.
As the seniors headed for the van, Benjamin took my arm and stopped me. “Don’t forget our date tonight.”
Actually, I had forgotten that Benjamin and I had plans to have dinner at the Japanese restaurant in Caffee Springs.
“Of course I won’t forget. I’ve been looking forward to it.” Or I would have been if I’d remembered. Just a little fib to spare his feelings.
Miss Evalina and Frank went to their room to rest before dinner, but all the others headed for the rec room to watch TV.
I decided to relax in a warm bubble bath and almost fell asleep in the tub. I dried off, got dressed, and was downstairs when Benjamin arrived in his truck.
It was a beautiful, clear night, the star-decked autumn sky like a soft curtain hanging above us, hiding us from the world as we rode down the blacktop highway to Caffee Springs. I leaned back against the soft leather and drank in the enjoyment of being alone with Benjamin.
The restaurant was full, and we waited nearly thirty minutes for a private table, even though we had reservations.
Seated at last at a small table in a corner, I breathed in a long breath of satisfaction and smiled across at Ben. He grinned, reached over, and took my hand, stroking my engagement ring.
Dinner was delicious, and as we talked, I could feel myself unwinding. I knew I needed to talk to Benjamin about Laura and her daughter but hesitated to ruin the moment.
I leaned back and watched Ben as he finished his dessert. We’d known each other since we were children, and sometimes I took his good looks and wonderful personality for granted. But not tonight. I gazed at his deep blue eyes and the sandy lock of hair that fell over his forehead.
He looked up and grinned, and then his face softened. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the lady was in love with me,” he teased.
“You’d think right, sir.”
“Okay. I can see it in your eyes, right through that look of love. What’s on your mind? Besides me?”
“I’m sorry, Ben. I don’t want to spoil our evening, but there is something that concerns me.”
“Something about Clyde’s death, right?”
“I’m not sure.” And I wasn’t. “I met Clyde’s daughter today. And his granddaughter.”
“Oh, you met Laura and Christiana? Nice, aren’t they?”
I felt my mouth fall open and shut it firmly. I should have known Benjamin would have met them. After all, he did own the newspaper and lived and breathed reporting. He probably met them before I did.
“Nice? Laura seems nice. I’d hardly use that word to describe Christiana.”
“Why not? She was very nice to me.”
Yeah, I’ll just bet she was. So that was her games.
I shot him a glare. “Christiana’s ‘niceness’ isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about. Laura suspected her father was murdered even before the sheriff declared the shop a crime scene.”
“You’re kidding. She didn’t hint at that to me.”
“Oh, really? I wonder why not, Benjamin.”
“Yeah, she probably thought I’d write it up in the Gazette.” He frowned. “Still…”
“It seems Laura’s mother had told her about some shady dealings Clyde was involved in. That’s why she left him. She was afraid.” I paused, gauging his reaction. “That’s why Laura has this feeling about her dad being murdered.”
“Hmm, it looks like she could be right. I doubt Turner would have declared it a crime scene without evidence.”
“I wonder if he’ll let them stay in Clyde’s apartment until after the funeral.” There were a lot of cabins for rent in the vicinity, but the closest decent hotel was at least ten miles away.
“I don’t know, but they’re not leaving right after the funeral.”
“They’re not? Why not?”
“I don’t know. But Christiana applied for the job at the Gazette.”
I shut my eyes and drew a deep breath. “The secretarial position, you mean?”
“Yeah. You know we’ve needed someone for a while.”
I waited.
The look he threw my way was definitely worried, if not downright guilty.
“You hired her,” I stated.
“Why not? She’s qualified.” He shrugged. “Oh, come on, Victoria. Don’t be jealous just because she’s pretty.”
“What? I’ll have you know I’m not jealous. I just don’t like her. She was very hostile toward me.” And he thought she was pretty.
“I’m sure it’s just your imagination, Vickie.”
“Excuse me. I know what I saw. And don’t call me Vickie.” How dare he call me jealous, and how dare he call me Vickie. He knew I hated it. That is, I used to hate it. Not so much this last year or two, but I hated it now.
“Come on, honey. I don’t know what the problem is here. If it bothers you that much, I’ll tell her I’ve changed my mind.” He reached across the table and took my hand.
I sighed. Was I just jealous? God had dealt with me aboutthat last year, and I thought I’d overcome it. But the thought of Benj
amin spending time with that little vixen made me cringe. Still…I needed to grow up. And I trusted Ben.
“No, I’m sorry. I overreacted. I’m sure you’re right. I must have imagined her attitude to be worse than it was.” There. “I’m all right with it, Ben.”
“Sure?”
“Yes, sure.” In a pig’s eye. Oops. Sorry, Lord.
We talked about other things on the ride back to Cedar Chapel. After all, the little squabble was over. Only I didn’t feel like it was over. We kissed good night at my door, and I went inside.
I went to my office, took the notebook and pen out of the drawer, and scratched out the question mark by Christiana’s name. I then added three exclamation points, tossed the pen on the desk, and went up to bed.
CHAPTER FOUR
After breakfast the next morning, Miss Aggie asked me to watch out for Whatzit while she went to Pennington House to help. They were doing last-minute decorating at this point, and she couldn’t bear to stay away. The rest of the seniors stated their intentions of going to the senior center. I grabbed Miss Jane and Miss Georgina before they could take off.
“Could I talk to you two for a few minutes?”
The nervous glances they darted at one another caused a pang of guilt to run through me. I should probably stop using these two sweet ladies as my information highway.
“Why don’t we go in the parlor? It’s more comfy.”
I linked arms with them and escorted them in.
“Now Victoria, I don’t know what you’re up to, but we have to hurry. There’s bingo at the center this morning, and we don’t want to be late.”
“You won’t be. I promise.” I smiled and sat on the wing chair beside the fireplace.
With obvious reluctance, Miss Jane and Miss Georgina sat on one of the sofas.
“Okay, all I want to know is if either of you knew that Clyde had a wife and daughter.”
“We knew he had a wife, of course. But that was years ago,” Miss Jane said. “He met her in New York, married her, and brought her home with him.”
Rest in Peace Page 3