by J A Whiting
Is it something about that woman who showed up here tonight? Angie wondered if the worry pricking at the back of her mind was because of Denise Landers. But why would that be it? She returned to the task that Finch had assigned, trying to shake off the unknown concern that was nipping at her brain.
Chapter 5
Angie was up early the next morning baking in the Victorian’s kitchen when Ellie came in to start the morning B and B breakfast preparations. In a couple of days, the baking would have to move to one of the carriage house apartments.
“What are you making?” Ellie yawned and pulled a white mug from the shelf.
“Chocolate cupcakes.” Angie opened the oven and removed the tray. “They’re for that Landers woman I met at the candy store last night.” Angie placed the tray of cupcakes on the granite counter to cool. “It seems odd to me that a woman in her nineties would request cupcakes. I thought she’d want something different.”
Ellie poured coffee into her mug and added cream. “It isn’t odd at all. Your chocolate cupcakes are to die for.”
“I made three batches of muffins for the guests’ morning breakfast buffet.” Angie pointed to the baskets of treats on the left side of the counter. “And a custard pie too.”
After frosting the cupcakes and storing them in a secure container, Angie went in and out from the kitchen to her car loading her baked goods for delivery to the area restaurants and inns. “I’ll be back in a few hours, that is, if my car doesn’t break down. It’s been giving me trouble. I need to take it in for service. After I make my deliveries, I’m going to stop by the town hall to see if I can get a copy of Professor Linden’s death certificate. Then I’ll swing by the town historical society to see if they can tell me which profile in the Sweet Cove book is Professor Linden’s father.”
“Good luck with it all.” Ellie checked the pot of eggs she was boiling.
Angie drove around town to make her deliveries, and then headed to the end of town near the cove. She made several turns before spotting the mailbox she was looking for. She maneuvered her car down the long driveway to a massive stone house and pulled to the side of a three-car garage. The house was beautifully landscaped with shade trees, bushes, and flowers meandering around the property. Climbing roses spilled over a fence to the right of the home. A black Mercedes SUV was parked inside one of the open garage bays.
A prickle of unease gripped Angie’s stomach. A strange sense of danger worried her nerves, but it was mixed with a different emotion that was hard to name. She stretched her shoulders and rubbed the back of her neck before removing the containers of cupcakes from her car. She made her way along the stone walkway to the front door where she rang the bell. After a minute, the door opened.
Denise Landers’ face lit up when she saw Angie. She clasped her hands together. “I’m so glad you’re here. Please come in.”
Angie stepped into a two story foyer. A chandelier sparkled overhead and the light reflected off the polished white marble floor.
“I can smell those cupcakes.” Mrs. Landers closed her eyes and drew in a long breath. “Yum.” She reached for the boxes. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll put these away. Then I’d like you to meet mother.”
Angie would have preferred to just get back to her errands, but decided it would be polite to stay for a few minutes to meet the woman who was so obsessed with the cupcakes. She followed Mrs. Landers down a hallway into a gleaming white kitchen. The space had two islands, polished wood floors, and high-end stainless steel appliances. Several vases of fresh flowers were placed around the room. A wooden table and four chairs were situated near three floor-to-ceiling windows with a view over the lush lawns and gardens in the back area of the home.
Mrs. Landers put the boxes on the counter, opened one, and removed a cupcake. She reached for a small white plate and withdrew a silver fork from a drawer. “Mother will be thrilled.” The chocolate cupcake topped with swirls of vanilla frosting sat on the saucer like a king on his throne.
A housekeeper came into the kitchen and Mrs. Landers requested that the woman bring some cold drinks into the conservatory. Carrying the plate, she waved her hand for Angie to follow her, the manicured nails on her small hand shining pearly white. Mrs. Landers led Angie into a glassed conservatory with three cream-colored sofas in the center of the space clustered around a huge wooden coffee table. A small woman with white hair sat in a chair looking out at the yard. Tall potted ficus and schefflera trees were placed in ceramic pots and stood here and there about the room.
The white-haired woman turned when she heard footsteps coming into the conservatory. Her face brightened. “Hello.”
“Mother, this is the owner of the Sweet Dreams Bake Shop.” Mrs. Landers presented her mother with the cupcake.
The woman’s eyes lit up when she saw the treat. “How lovely.”
Mrs. Landers looked at Angie and raised her hand to her chest. “My manners. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Angie. Angie Roseland.”
“Call me Denise. This is my mother Flora Walters.”
Mrs. Walters’ eyes twinkled. “What a pleasure to meet the best baker in the state of Massachusetts. Whenever I eat one your goodies, I feel wonderful for the rest of the day.”
Angie smiled at Mrs. Walters while she made a quick inventory of what her thoughts had been while she was mixing and baking the cupcakes. She didn’t want the wrong intentions to have an effect on the older woman. Angie recently discovered that she had a special talent of being able to transfer feelings and intentions into her baked treats, which then affected the person who ate them. Angie made a mental note to always remember to be very careful when baking and to never let her thoughts wander when she was preparing her baked goods.
“Thank you for the nice compliments,” Angie said.
Denise gestured to one of the sofas. “Please sit.”
The housekeeper brought in a tray with a pitcher of iced tea and three tall glasses.
“I should really get back to work,” Angie protested.
Denise insisted that Angie stay. “Sit for a few minutes. Have a quick drink with us.”
Angie relented. She sat down across from Mrs. Walters and accepted the cold beverage.
“Did you grow up in Sweet Cove?” Flora Walters asked. She pierced a bit of the cupcake with her fork and raised it to her lips.
“No. I was born in Boston and grew up there. But my grandmother lived here in town and we visited her frequently. I leased the store space last year and moved to town to start the bake shop.”
Flora blinked several times. “You said your last name is Roseland, correct?”
Angie nodded and placed her glass on the coffee table.
“You’re Virginia Fairfield’s granddaughter.” Flora rested the plate on her lap.
Angie sat up. “Yes. You knew my grandmother?”
“Heaven’s yes. She was a lovely woman. I thought I’d heard that you were related to Virginia.” A cloud passed over Flora’s face. “I was heartbroken when I found out that she’d passed. Is it nearly fifteen years ago already?”
“It is,” Angie said. “I was twelve when Nana died.”
“My, my.” Flora shook her head slightly. “And here you are, such a successful baker.” She looked kindly at Angie, and then asked, “What about your mother, Elizabeth?”
Angie swallowed. “She passed away four years ago.”
Flora sucked in a breath. “No.”
“She had an accident.” Angie blinked. “She was hit by a car in Boston while crossing a street.”
Flora’s hand flew to her mouth. “How terrible. I’m so sorry, my dear.”
Angie bit the inside of her cheek. It was still difficult to comprehend that her mother was gone. She reached for her glass and took a sip. “By any chance, did you know Professor Marion Linden?”
“I knew who she was, but we didn’t interact very much.” Flora finished the cupcake and placed the fork across the plate. “I understand y
ou inherited Professor Linden’s Victorian.”
“I did. It’s a lovely home. I’m very fortunate to have it.”
Flora said, “Many years ago, I visited your grandmother at her cottage on Robin’s Point. She invited me to lunch several times. It was beautiful there. Her cottage was lovely.”
Angie smiled. “We loved it there with Nana.”
The housekeeper returned and whispered something to Denise.
“I’m just going to the kitchen for a minute. The cook has a question about dinner tonight.” Denise rose from the sofa and left the room.
“I should be going,” Angie told Flora. “I have some errands I have to run.”
Flora took a quick glance across the room to the doorway. “Angie.” She hesitated.
A flash of nerves fluttered over Angie’s skin. She gave the woman a questioning look.
“I asked my daughter to find you in town and invite you here to the house. When I heard that you had inherited Professor Linden’s home and I heard your name, I was pretty certain that you must be Virginia’s granddaughter. Your grandmother and I weren’t friends, but we were friendly.” Flora locked eyes with Angie. “Do you ever find it odd…the timing of your grandmother’s passing…with the sale of her cottage to the town?”
A tingle of anxiety pricked Angie’s spine. “What do you mean?” Her throat was so tight that she could barely squeeze the words out of it.
Flora’s eyes flicked to the doorway again. She spoke quickly. “Your grandmother didn’t believe that the town owned the land her cottage was on. She only told me this in passing. She wanted to fight the taking of her property.”
Angie’s eyes bugged out of their sockets. “What? What are you implying?”
Flora leaned closer. “I’m old. I’m basically house-bound. Denise is good to me, but she would dismiss my ideas as the foolishness of an old woman. I’ve never told anyone this, but I have to get this worry off my chest. Something about your grandmother’s death bothers me. I want to tell you...”
Angie and Flora could hear Denise’s voice talking to the housekeeper as the two of them approached the conservatory.
Anxiety coursed through Angie’s veins. Her mind was racing, but she didn’t know what to ask.
Flora’s eyes bored into Angie’s. She lowered her voice. “I need to tell you…I think your grandmother’s death was suspicious, what with her concerns about the land and her passing right after she sold her cottage to the town. I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing at all, but something doesn’t seem right to me.”
Angie sucked in a quick breath.
“If you decide to look into it….” Flora’s face muscles tensed. “Be very careful.”
Chapter 6
Angie flew into the kitchen through the back door of the Victorian. Ellie whirled around, surprised by her sister’s hurry.
Mr. Finch and Jenna sat at the kitchen table with cups of tea. Finch noted Angie’s pale face. “Is the Devil himself chasing you, Miss Angie?”
Angie paused to catch her breath.
“I thought you drove your car to do the deliveries. Why are you so out of breath?” Jenna stared at her sister.
Courtney came into the kitchen with an empty platter from the breakfast buffet. She stopped short when she saw Angie. “What’s wrong with you?”
Angie leaned against the counter, rubbing her temple. “I just came from delivering the cupcakes to the woman we met last night outside of the candy store. Remember she ordered cupcakes for her elderly mother?” Angie ran her hand through her hair. “Well, they invited me to sit down and have some iced tea with them.” She proceeded to relay what Flora Walters suspected about Nana’s death.
Everyone in the kitchen let out a collective gasp.
“What does she think happened to Nana?” Ellie twisted a dish towel in her hands.
“She doesn’t know. She said this has been nagging at her since Nana died.” Angie looked around at her sisters and Mr. Finch. “She told me to be careful.”
Jenna said, “What do we know about what happened with Nana’s cottage? I remember hearing that the town owned the land and Nana paid a tiny amount of money to lease it. The lease was a certain number of years long and when the time was up, the town wanted the cottage owners to buy the land or get their houses off of it.”
Courtney told what she knew. “The price the town wanted for the land was too high and Nana couldn’t afford it. So she had to sell the cottage to the town.”
Ellie was still twisting the dish towel. “That’s what I remember too.” She looked at Angie. “Flora Walters thinks someone killed Nana?”
Angie said, “She didn’t say that. She used the word ‘suspicious.’”
“What else could ‘suspicious’ mean?” Courtney sat down next to Jenna. “Flora Walters told you that Nana didn’t believe the town owned the land on the point? Who did Nana think owned it?”
Angie shrugged. “Flora doesn’t know.”
Mr. Finch clasped his hands together and placed them on the table. “This might take some investigation.”
Ellie’s face was losing its color. “Flora told you to be careful if you investigate. Maybe you shouldn’t look into it. Maybe we should just drop it.”
Courtney gave Ellie the evil eye. “Really? If someone killed Nana, we should just look the other way? Pretend it didn’t happen?”
“We don’t need any more dead bodies.” Ellie’s eyes flashed. “Especially not the bodies of any of my sisters.” Her words hitched in her throat.
Jenna went over to Ellie and put her arm around her waist. “This is upsetting news. Maybe we should talk to Chief Martin about it.”
Angie sank into the chair next to Mr. Finch, leaned on the table, and put her chin in her hand.
Courtney glanced at the hole in the kitchen wall to see where Tom was working. She narrowed her eyes at Angie. “Did you feel anything when you were at Flora Walters’ house?”
Angie looked up. She gave a slight nod. “I felt danger. But something else tempered it. A feeling that … I don’t know … like I was going to get help from someone in the house.”
Courtney nodded solemnly. “Then it’s real.”
Ellie’s lip trembled. Tears gathered in her eyes.
Angie looked around the room. “Where are the cats?”
“There.” Jenna pointed. The two felines sat at attention on top of the refrigerator. They hadn’t missed a word.
Angie turned her worried eyes to look at the huge orange cat and the medium size black one. “You heard all that? We might need your help, cats.”
They both trilled at Angie and the comforting sound caused a little smile to spread over her face. “I knew we could count on you.” The interaction with the intelligent creatures filled Angie’s heart with the hope that she could find answers to her questions. Why did Professor Linden leave the Victorian to me? Who really owned the land on the point? Why did Nana think someone other than the town owned it? Did Nana meet with foul play?
Jenna said, “I have some jewelry orders to fill, but tonight let’s sit together and go over things. Let’s decide what needs to be figured out and how we’re going to do it. I’m almost caught up with my online orders. I want to help uncover what, if anything, happened to Nana.”
“Okay.” Angie stood up. “For now, I’m going to the historical society to ask which of the men in their book is Professor Linden’s father.”
“Want some company?” Courtney asked. “I always like a good mystery.”
***
Angie and Courtney walked up the granite steps of the Sweet Cove Historical Society. The building was housed in the town’s first schoolhouse. Inside, the old wood floors creaked when they walked on them.
“No one can sneak up on anyone in here,” Courtney whispered.
A man with gray hair sat at a desk in a small office that had its door open.
“Hello,” Angie called.
The man startled and turned to the visitors. He looked over his tortoise-
shell glasses at them. His tone was formal. “May I help you?” He stood up.
Angie approached the man and showed him the book that the historical society had put together. “My sister and I were wondering which of the men profiled in the book was Professor Marion Linden’s father. We were hoping someone here might be able to help us.”
“Why do you want to know that?” The man scowled.
Angie wasn’t expecting to be asked why she wanted the information. She didn’t care for the man’s tone of voice. It was like he was the keeper of information and wouldn’t share it unless you proved your need to know.
Courtney stepped forward and gave the man a warm smile. “Professor Linden left her Victorian home to my sister. We all live there now. We’re interested in its history.”
The man sniffed. “Many people inherit or purchase historical homes with no knowledge of how to care for or maintain them.”
Courtney wanted to roll her eyes, but she kept her face pleasant and ignored the man’s comment. She took the book from Angie’s hands and opened to the section on the prominent citizens of Sweet Cove. She asked sweetly, “Is one of these gentlemen Professor Linden’s father?”
The gray-haired man gave a cursory glance at the book. He shook his head. “I don’t know the family relations or familial lines of the people in the book.” He turned back to what he was working on.
Courtney’s eyes were like saucers and her mouth hung open. She was shocked at the man’s brusque behavior. “Do you work here?” She wondered how anyone who’d been hired to work at the historical society could be so unhelpful.
The man glared at Courtney. He gestured to the paperwork on his desk.
Angie took a step forward. “Is there anyone here who can answer questions about some historical aspects of Sweet Cove?”