Death By Stalking

by Abigail Keam

  I skirted onto Tates Creek Road. In a matter of minutes, Lady Elsmere would be safely ensconced in the Big House, and I would be happily sitting in front of the TV at Matt’s house.

  I assumed Rose would be safe while Gage was in jail.

  Or so we all thought!

  5

  I pulled up to the kitchen entrance at the back of the Big House. As I helped June out of the golf cart, I could hear Bess singing as she baked. Bess was a daughter of Charles, heir to June’s fortune. I always refer to Charles as the butler. That’s how he started with June, but he was now manager of her entire estate.

  I sniffed the air. “Bess is making cinnamon rolls! Think I’ll come in and sit a spell.”

  Most people would refer to Bess as a cook. She had neither formal training nor a degree from some fancy cooking school, but she was an artist. Give her four items, and she would give you a feast. People were forever trying to steal her away from June, but Bess knew on which side her bread was buttered, and happily for me, baking was her specialty. Hot cinnamon rolls and cold milk, here I come.

  I almost pushed June out of the way trying to get inside until I remembered myself. I opened the door for June and cracked, “Age before beauty.”

  June swept past saying, “Pearls before swine.”

  I was chuckling when I followed her inside, and then I stopped. Frozen.

  At the kitchen table gobbling down freshly baked, hot cinnamon rolls sat Asa and her sidekick, Boris Whatshisface.

  Asa put down a glass of chilled milk and sang, “Hello Mommy Dearest. I’m home.”

  6

  Bess laid out more plates, glasses, and teacups on the table alongside a pan of her delicious cinnamon rolls with a pitcher of milk and a pot of hot tea.

  Boris immediately poured hot tea into a clear glass. That’s the Eastern European way I am told.

  June poured tea into a cup and then added milk. That’s the aristocratic British way I am told.

  I poured milk into a glass. That’s the Josiah way and the correct beverage to drink with warm homemade cinnamon rolls.

  “You seem surprised to see me, Mother.”

  “Well, Asa, I’m quite floored but very pleased.”

  “Are you? You don’t look it.”

  I managed to grimace a smile. “Are you on a case since Whatshisface is with you?”

  “His name is Boris as you very well know.”

  “Sorry, Boris,” I apologized, handing him a napkin.

  “No offense taken,” replied Boris, wiping the crumbs from the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “I think you missed the crumbs caught in your pelt,” I added, remarking on the man’s remarkable chest hair sprouting from his shirt.

  Asa gave Boris a disapproving glance. “Quit clowning for my boorish mother.”

  I turned to June and mockingly asked in a Southern drawl, “Am I boorish? I ask you.”

  June decided not to play and said, “Asa, I’m so glad you’re here. Just in time for the Bluegrass Antique Ball.”

  “Sorry, Miss June, but I’m only here for a short while, then I fly out again.”

  “Of course,” I sniggered.

  “What does that mean, Mother?”

  June sighed. “Girls, fight your battle somewhere else. I don’t want to waste what little time I have left listening to you two bicker.”

  “Sorry, June.”

  “Me too, Miss June,” replied Asa. She mouthed over June’s head, “You started it.”

  I stuck out my tongue when June wasn’t looking.

  Asa said, “I’m just here for a few days. Can you put Boris and me up? I went to the Butterfly, but Mother has it rented out this weekend, and there’s not enough room at Matt’s cottage for all three of us.”

  “Four,” I said, getting up and opening the screened kitchen door in response to frantic scratching.

  Baby happily bounded in and went straight to Asa for a sniff and a scratch behind the ear. He looked warily at Boris with his lone good eye, sniffed again, and decided Boris wasn’t worth his interest. No food.

  “What? No hello for me, you worthless canine?” asked Bess, feigning anger.

  Baby whined as he thumped his thick tail against the bottom cabinets. It sounded like someone hammering nails.

  “Bess, please give Baby something to eat before he demolishes the kitchen cabinets,” demanded June, irritated at the commotion Baby was making.

  Bess put slices of roast beef into a stainless steel bowl she kept for Baby and the mélange of other dogs Charles brought home. She ran fresh water in another bowl and put it beside Baby.

  “Miss June, I’ll clean up the kitchen later, but I’ve got to get off my feet. Dinner will be at eight as usual.”

  “The kitchen is your domain, Bess. Do as you will.”

  Bess turned to Asa. “I’ll be expecting you two for dinner?”

  “That depends on Miss June,” Asa replied.

  June snorted, “You know you can stay.”

  Asa smiled with relief. She didn’t want to stay at Matt’s cottage with me? What was up with that?

  “I’m coming too,” I chirped, inviting myself.

  My next thought was to wonder whether Asa and Boris were going to stay in separate rooms, but I didn’t have time to ponder. Amelia, another daughter from the union of Charles and Josephine Dupuy, wandered into the kitchen.

  “I heard you put that old curmudgeon in his place, Miss June.”

  “News travels fast in these parts.”

  “Rosie called and told me the entire shameful episode.”

  “I got in the last word,” June replied, straightening her shoulders.

  “A ball of righteous fire is how Rosie described you.”

  “And me?” I asked.

  Amelia grinned, remarking, “She didn’t mention you specifically, Josiah, but Rosie did say Baby was a big help, too. Did that old bag of wind really pee on himself?”

  June scowled. “Does a lady say the word ‘pee?’”

  “I heard you say the word piss today, June,” I replied. June could be such a hypocrite—unlike me.

  Amelia, Asa, and Boris looked at June in astonishment.

  June grinned. “I did, didn’t I?” She chuckled. “Charm school rubs off when dealing with a no-good, worthless dog—no offense, Baby—but it felt so good. Well, enough of this jibber-jabber. I leave you all to your own devices. See everyone at dinner.” June rose and allowed Amelia to escort her upstairs.

  “I need a nap also,” I announced, rising. “Coming, Asa?”

  “I’m going to take a walk after I unpack. Boris, if you would be so kind, please take my bag to the blue bedroom overlooking the pool. It’s right across from Lady Elsmere’s room. You take the room down the hall overlooking the front driveway.”

  “Okay, Boss.”

  Ooh, that answered my question about the relationship between Asa and Boris. Strictly business.

  It made me a little sad. Boris, when not clowning around, was good-looking, square jaw and all, smart, and reeked of male hormones that said, “Let’s get it on.” He didn’t seem to be a psychopath and had a sense of humor, a job, and all his own teeth. What more could Asa want?

  It was my fervent belief all young people should be in love. I had been terribly in love with Asa’s father, Brannon, and was very happy for a good many years until our marriage fell apart.

  I wanted that for Asa. Not the awful part when a relationship comes undone, but the good part, the love of a good man for my baby girl and a home to call her own. I realize not every woman needs or even wants that, but how long could Asa keep up what she was doing? Her job had to take a terrible toll on her body and psyche. But then again, I had to admit Asa was probably a thrill junkie.

  My path was not her path. I needed to let Asa live her own life and not interfere.

  Why was Asa here? She rarely dropped in for no reason.

  Was it to interfere with my life?

  7

  Boris
took the overnight bags upstairs, leaving Asa and me alone in the kitchen.

  Baby, now sleeping stretched out in front of the door, didn’t count.

  I asked, “What’s up, Buttercup?”

  “Why haven’t you returned my calls or texted me back?”

  I replied, “Just been so darn busy. It got away from me. I hope you didn’t come all this way to check on me. As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “I flew all the way from Paris to see you.”

  “How is France this time of year?”

  “Mother, quit trying to deflect. I was worried. What’s wrong?”

  I stood up. “Nothing my child needs to worry about. I admit I may not be at my best, but I’m still the parent here, Asa.”

  “Let me help. You may be the parent, but sometimes you aren’t exactly the grownup.”

  Ouch!

  “You have helped me by showing up, but I’m very sorry if you expected to find me in a puddle on the floor.”

  “I thought you might be in the hospital.”

  “If that had happened, you would have been notified.”

  “Oh, you’re impossible, Mother!”

  “And you said you wanted to go for a walk. Go to the nursery barn. The foals are there, getting checkups from the vet.”

  I started to rouse Baby when Asa asked, “Why are you on kidney medication?”

  I froze.

  “I’ve asked before about it, and you always denied using it.”

  Swinging around, I asked, “Did Franklin rat me out?”

  “I searched your room.”

  “You had no right.”

  “This from a woman who begged me to buy addictive pain medication off the streets and smuggle it home.”

  “I never asked you to do such a thing, but I thank you for it. I would not have made it after my fall without that medication.”

  “I could have gone to prison if caught, Mother.”

  “You did it on your own, but I was grateful. The thought you could be arrested didn’t cross my mind, Asa. I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t regret it, Mother. I will do it again if you’re in need of such strong medication. I know how much pain you were in. I also know Kentucky is royally screwed up regarding pain medication.”

  “Is this what you’re mad about?”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “Something is going on with you, and you are not telling me.”

  “My darling girl, I know we don’t see eye to eye on many things, but you don’t need to look out for me. I’m fine. Yes, I’ll admit since Matt has been gone, things have been a little rocky for me, but I’m finding my footing again, and I will be okay. Please don’t worry about me. Live your life. Have fun. Catch bad guys. Have a romantic encounter with Mr. Boris Whatshisface.”

  “And get sued for sexual harassment? You know he’s my employee.”

  “I somehow don’t think Boris would mind canoodling with you.”

  “Bad idea.”

  “I’m full of bad ideas. They are what makes life so enjoyable.”

  Asa sighed. “It’s at times like this I wish I smoked crack or drank myself stupid or took candy away from small children or—”

  I cut in, “I get the picture.”

  “You are so frustrating.”

  “I’m frustrating?”

  “I can see I’m not getting anywhere with you, so I’m going to walk to the horse barns.”

  “Shaneika is training Comanche at the track here. You might run into her.”

  Asa wrapped her arm around mine as we stepped over Baby and went out the kitchen door. She held the door open for Baby. “Baby, come!”

  Baby yawned and sleepily got up, leaving a hairy outline of his body. He had shed fur on the kitchen floor. Oh dear! Bess would have a fit.

  I suggested, “Take my cart and take Baby with you. I’m going to clean this mess up. I can’t leave the floor looking like this. Bess would skin me alive.”

  “Don’t you dare steal all of those cinnamon rolls. I want some more.”

  “Me, steal?” I said, grinning. I was already wondering how many rolls I could stuff in my pocket.

  My daughter knew me too well.

  8

  Lady Elsmere, Rosie, Asa, and I squeezed into the back of June’s Bentley. Boris and Charles sat up front. Amelia followed in another car.

  June was dressed in a 1960s satin pale green gown with a sequined full-length green paisley coat of the same material. She was wearing her emerald ring and necklace—worth a king’s ransom. Her wrists sparkled with multiple emerald bracelets accented with diamonds along with Burmese ruby bracelets.

  Rosie wore a yellow and pink knee-length gown with pointed high heels that matched, complemented by a single strand pearl necklace. She told us it had been her high school prom dress. I was amazed she could still get into it—or was I jealous? Maybe a little of both. Lord knows I’ve struggled with my weight.

  Asa was poured into her strapless black velvet gown with a sweetheart neckline. Her dark hair was swept up into a French bun, held together with diamond and platinum hairpins June had loaned her.

  I wore my usual Grecian blue chiffon Dior dress but with shoes this time instead of house slippers. My hair was styled and my makeup applied. We were a gaggle of good-looking gals for a night on the town, heading for the prestigious Bluegrass Antique Auction and Ball.

  “Where’s Miss Josephine? Isn’t she coming?” I asked Charles concerning his wife.

  “She’s not up to it. She’s still afraid she might fall, so I’m going stag,” replied Charles, referring to his wife’s recent fall in a horse barn. She had tripped over a rein from a bridle that had not been secured in the tack room.

  “What am I?” June snarled. “Chopped liver?”

  Asa chided June. “You know what he means. You’re being ornery.” Asa leaned forward and patted Charles on the shoulder. “Tell Miss Josephine we miss her and wish her a speedy recovery.”

  June waved her hand and barked, “Enough of this chitter-chatter.”

  I knew June had her eye on several eighteenth-century chairs made by a notable Kentucky furniture maker and was determined to get them by any means necessary. That’s an overstatement, I’m sure, but she was bound and determined to get her way even though Asa was cautioning her.

  “Miss June, it is rare that a signed piece of eighteenth-century furniture by a Kentucky cabinetmaker comes up for sale, let alone several chairs at once. I would be very cautious.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but these chairs are being sold by a reputable dealer.”

  Asa said, “Um, I deal with experts all the time and consistently find they’re bamboozled by con artists more often than they would want you to know.”

  “June, would it hurt to have Asa check them out before you bid?” I asked.

  “I think it is a good idea,” Rosie chimed in.

  June rattled her bracelets, capitulating. “If you insist.”

  Asa sat back. “Good. What are you going to do with those chairs anyway? You don’t need them.”

  “That’s not the point, Asa. Kentucky has a proud heritage, and I want to help preserve it. I’m going to donate them to a museum I’m thinking of opening in Lexington.”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of such a museum. Charles, did you know about this?” I butted in.

  Charles talked over his shoulder. “Lady Elsmere has had this on her mind for some time.”

  Rosie asked, “What will be the name of this museum?”

  “The Charles Dupuy Museum of Kentucky.”

  Charles slammed the brakes, causing all of us to jerk forward.

  I put my arm out to safeguard June as I heard Amelia screech her car to a halt behind us.

  Charles turned around in his seat. “No, you don’t, June. If you do, my life won’t be my own. I’ll be pestered from dawn to dusk from folks wanting stuff in their attics to be appraised, and then they’ll get mad when
they’re told their great grandma’s sauerkraut crock ain’t worth nothing. No siree, you put that museum in your own name.”

  June pursed her lips.

  Charles started driving the car again, muttering under his breath, “The woman will be the death of me. She comes up with the craziest ideas.”

  As June seethed, Asa bit her lip to avoid smiling.

  “Well, I never,” June said. “You try to do something nice for someone, and they give you grief over it.”

  “Charles does have a point, June. I don’t think he’s ready to be thrust into the limelight like that yet, and he does have a lot on his plate right now,” I said.

  Charles was still learning how to manage June’s estate since he was her heir. It involved taking management courses and meeting with her lawyers along with the day-to-day running of her properties. It was a massive undertaking.

  Rosie looked embarrassed. Her chest flashed red, and I watched the color rise up her neck and onto her cheeks.

  Trying to reassure her, I said, “It’s okay, Rosie. They fuss like this all the time. It’s nothing. This disagreement will be forgotten in five minutes because they’ll be arguing about something new.”

  “Oh,” Rosie said to June. “I didn’t know you and Charles were so close.”

  “He’s my right hand. I don’t know what I would do without Charles,” June replied and then leaned forward to make sure Charles heard her. “Except he’s a stubborn mule. Yes, you are, Charles. I see you eyeballin’ me in the rearview mirror. You don’t scare me none.”

  Asa broke out into peals of laughter.

  Boris and I both joined her.

  Even June broke into a smile. She loved jousting with Charles, and everyone knew he would come around to her way of thinking. Charles realized that when he did inherit June’s estate, he would become a public figure in the Bluegrass. He just had to wrap his mind around the idea of a museum before he cottoned to it.

  Our merriment for the night would soon end, though we didn’t know it at the time.