Murder in the Rose Garden: A Scent with Love Cozy Mystery (Scent with Love Cozy Mysteries)

by Tabitha Tate

  They sat down at the table, took out the documents and stacked them in two rows, side by side on the kitchen table. Beth took the bottle, adjusted the spray nozzle setting and sprayed red cabbage mist over the pages. Within a few seconds words appeared on the pages in bright red ink, the words “Winslow-Dunne” stenciled across the pages in a repeating pattern. Chase looked at her questioningly.

  “Any idea what that means?”

  “I’m not sure but someone called Mr. Dunne left me two messages at the shop in the last week. I forgot to return his call.”

  Chase looked excited. “Do you have his number?”

  Beth rummaged in her handbag on the chair next to her and pulled out a blue Post-it note. Mr. Dunne’s contact details were scribbled on it in Hannah’s messy black handwriting.

  “I sure do!” said Beth. She reached for her phone, punched in the number and waited anxiously.

  “Hello, Mark Dunne speaking—”

  “Hello, Mr. Dunne. It’s Elizabeth Andrews, you left me two messages last week. I am just returning your call.”

  “Miss Andrews, I am so glad you contacted me. I have been trying to get hold of you regarding your mother’s will.”

  Beth wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “My mother’s will has already been finalized,” she replied.

  Mark Dunne spoke in a lowered voice. “Miss Andrews, I am not sure what you know but I am an associate at Winslow-Dunne, the largest law firm in Boston. I have your mother’s final will in my possession. She came to see me the week before her untimely death. You were named her sole heir. Her assets are quite substantial.”

  Beth took a deep breath, trying to calm the sickly feeling in her stomach. Mark Dunne continued on the other end of the phone.

  “I have an associate at a local law firm in Big Bay. I will send her a copy of the will. When are you able to meet with her to go through the details?”

  “This is all rather sudden. Big Bay is a thirty-minute drive from Bartholomew Bay. I would be able to see her later this afternoon,” Beth replied.

  “Fantastic, I will contact her and make arrangements. Her assistant will be contacting you shortly to confirm a time. Goodbye, Miss Andrews,”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Dunne.”

  Mark Dunne hung up the phone. Beth, who had stood up and started pacing nervously during the conversation with Mark Dunne, flopped into a chair at the kitchen table and turned to Chase. Her face was pale, her eyes brimmed with tears and her mind stung in confusion.

  Chase got up and put the kettle on. “You look like you need a strong cup of coffee. What did he have to say?”

  Beth smiled weakly. “Coffee would be great, thanks.” Beth proceeded to tell Chase about the second copy of her mother’s will, a copy which was more recent than the will Jack had on file.

  Chase placed a cup in front of her. “I know that this is difficult for you but this is good news. This does explain a lot of things. Your mother was obviously hiding her assets from Bernard. I found it very strange that she left the cottage to him. The whole town knew about his affair; I am pretty sure your mother knew too.”

  “It does explain a lot, and will surely solve the mystery of my mother’s missing money but it still doesn’t explain who killed her.”

  “We still don’t know who killed her but our pool of suspects just got a little larger. We should definitely take another look at Bernard. If he found out that your mother had excluded him from her will, he would have been very angry—sounds like a pretty good motive for murder to me.”

  ~

  The sight of the sprawling ocean against the backdrop of white wispy clouds and rocky cliffs would have captivated Beth on a normal day. But finding her mother’s killer was all she could think about on the drive to Big Bay. Chase was at the wheel, deep in thought as they travelled the winding coastal road from Bartholomew Bay to the neighboring town of Big Bay.

  They pulled up in front of a large white building on the main road at three-thirty in the afternoon. Chase helped her out of his truck and walked with her into the reception of the one-woman law practice run by Melinda Walker. A petite girl in her mid-twenties with auburn hair and black round-framed glasses greeted them and asked them to wait in the visitor’s reception area.

  They had barely sat down before the high-pitched sound of a woman’s voice erupted in the hallway. Melinda Walker breezed past Beth and walked over to Chase, greeting him with a warm embrace.

  “Chase Crawford, what a pleasant surprise! It has been ages since we last worked together.”

  Chase got up and greeted her. She responded like a viper, darting quickly into a choking embrace. Chase grinned at Beth from behind Melinda’s shoulder and rolled his eyes apologetically at Beth. Melinda let go of him, brushed her hands across the front of her black dress and greeted Beth with a perfectly manicured hand.

  “You must be Elizabeth Andrews.”

  Beth got up from her chair. “Yes. I have an appointment scheduled for three forty-five.”

  “Yes indeed. Mr. Dunne sent over a copy of your mother’s will. Please follow me to my office where we can discuss it in more detail.”

  Melinda escorted Beth to a sunny office at the back of the building and proceeded to take her through the details of her mother’s will.

  It took twenty minutes to go over the details and Beth walked out of Melinda’s office convinced that she knew who had killed her mother.

  Chapter 12

  Chase drove them back to Bartholomew Bay and headed straight to the flower shop. It was just after five and Hannah had already closed up. Beth opened the door and hurried to the back of the shop. She turned on the light in the stock room and gasped at the sight of the empty shelf at the very back of the room. The twenty large porcelain pots which had been stored separately from the rest were gone. Chase was standing behind her. She had told him all about her mother’s antique Chinese porcelain collection on the drive back to the shop.

  Twenty intricately decorated pots, vases and jars dating as far back as the seventeenth century with a combined value of more than three million dollars. The shape, pattern and markings on the bottom of each piece were recorded in a detailed list in her mother’s will. Beth had a copy of the list in her handbag and had hoped to be able to compare the vases and pots she had seen in the stock room to those listed in her mother’s will. The sight of the empty shelf confirmed to Beth that the pots and vases in the stock room were indeed those her mother had mentioned in her will.

  Beth went to the front of the shop and tried calling Hannah. The phone rang a few times before going to voicemail. Beth paged through the order book, scanning the list of recent orders. The last order was placed by Mrs. Blackwood and marked for collection which she found strange as Mrs. Blackwood usually asked for her orders to be delivered. She turned to Chase.

  “We need to find Hannah.”

  Chase brushed her arm softly. “Calm down, pretty lady. I know how all of this may seem but I know Hannah and she would never harm anyone. As for the missing pots I am also quite sure that she would not have stolen them.”

  Beth agreed. “We need to find Hannah because I am concerned about her safety. I am convinced that Mrs. Blackwood killed Mom and stole the vases from the stock room. She placed an order for collection this afternoon. I think she used it as an opportunity to get her hands on the vases.”

  Chase’s eyes darted to the back of the shop, scanning the desk for the keys to the shop’s van.

  “Did you leave the keys to the van with Hannah?”

  “Yes, she needed the van to make some deliveries this morning,” replied Beth.

  “I don’t see the keys anywhere; I think that Hannah is missing along with the van.”

  “I think you may be right. We need to get to Blackwood Estate!”

  Chase grabbed his keys and ushered Beth to his pickup. The engine roared to life, the sound of screeching rubber filled the air and they raced off in the direction of Blackwood Estate. While Chase focused on the road ahead, B
eth called Sheriff Hunter, filled him in on the latest developments and asked him to send backup.

  Blackwood Mansion stood proudly within a large landscaped garden overlooking the ocean. The stately double-story house was painted white with painted wood shutters and a dark wood front door.

  Chase stopped his truck at the main gate, which was adorned with an intricate web of black trailing vines, and pressed the buzzer. There was no answer. Chase scaled the 10-foot stone wall and began fiddling with the gate motor. It wasn’t long before he had managed to pick the lock, open the maintenance panel and open the gate using the manual override function.

  The drove up to the main house and stopped next to the Scent with Love flower shop van which was parked at the main entrance. The doors to the van were open and the back was empty. Beth and Chase bolted from the truck and ran up to the main house. The large wooden front door was open and a bulging leather suitcase stood next to the table in the entrance hall at the bottom of the stairs. Beth ran over to the table and picked up a folder containing a first-class ticket to the Maldives in Hannah’s name.

  She turned to Chase, who was standing at the top of the stairs.

  “We need to find Hannah. Her life depends on it.”

  “There is no sign of anyone upstairs. I don’t know how much time we have!”

  ~

  Eleanor Blackwood climbed the last step of the spiral staircase and emerged from the floor in the old servants’ quarters, behind the kitchen, which had been remodeled into a patio and bar area for entertaining. She closed the trap door to the wine cellar and covered it with an old grass rug. She tucked a strand of gray hair behind her ear and walked towards the door. Her hair was cut in a neat short style with long strands at the front framing her face, which she preferred to tuck behind her ears. She had never been fond of her late husband’s hair-brained ideas and the wine cellar had always seemed like an unnecessary expense. Since his death she had never been down to the cellar but she was suddenly very glad he had built it, as it was the perfect place to hide a body.

  Eleanor had injected Hannah with a lethal dose of snake venom and placed her in an empty wine barrel, alive, but not for long. On Monday she would call Jim, the grounds man, and have him seal the floor with a truckload of concrete. The wine cellar had really never been much use to her.

  She hurried out of the bar and past the sparkling blue lap pool that ran the length of the house, back towards the main building. It was twilight and the outside lights were about to come on. They were on a timer and came on at six-thirty every evening. As she approached the stairs to the main house, she spotted movement in the kitchen window. She froze and turned to run just as the backyard lit up.

  Eleanor heard Beth shout, whirled around and took off across the lawn with Chase in hot pursuit. He caught up with her, tackled her to the ground, pulled her hands behind her back and handcuffed her with a zip tie. Chase spun her around and shook her shoulders.

  “Why, Eleanor? Why on earth would you kill Mary-Ellen, steal from Beth and kidnap Hannah?”

  “Oh please, don’t judge me. Do you have any idea what it takes to keep a place like this going? I am drowning in debt and I can’t afford to keep all of this up much longer. I stumbled upon Mary-Ellen’s little gold mine quite by accident. Imagine my surprise when an antique dealer friend of mine spent a weekend here a few months ago and commented on how shocked he was to see that I was keeping my flowers in a two-thousand-year-old porcelain vase. A vase worth more than two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. After his visit I went to the shop and snooped in the store room. It didn’t take me long to do the math and figure out that the antiques in the stock room were the answer to all my financial troubles.”

  Chase could hardly believe his ears—the slim woman in front of him was the picture of grace and sophistication. She looked nothing like a murderer, dressed in designer clothes, black wool slacks and a navy blue button-down shirt with a bright patterned scarf draped loosely around her neck. Her nails were perfectly manicured and her makeup was applied with an artist’s precision. She smelled of rosewater and spoke in a soft voice which was becoming more animated and maniacal by the second.

  “I was naïve at first, thought Mary-Ellen didn’t know what the pots were worth so I made her an offer on the shop but she declined. When that didn’t work I tried blackmailing her into giving me the pots but she didn’t seem worried about the police finding out about her little marijuana business. She left me no choice. I had to kill her to get my hands on those pots. After her death I approached Jack, offered him a large incentive to make sure that Beth sold the flower shop to me. I never expected her to take on the role of amateur detective; we have enough incompetent law enforcement officers in this little town already.”

  Two officers came sprinting across the lawn and took Eleanor Blackwood into custody. Sheriff Hunter arrived a moment later.

  “Eleanor, where is Hannah?”

  “I think I have said enough. I will be spending the rest of my life in prison; I see no reason to make this any easier for you.”

  Walt spoke into his radio. “Search the premises, we need to find Hannah King before it’s too late. Eleanor is not cooperating. I don’t know how much time we have!”

  He turned to Beth. “My guys will turn this place upside down, and we will do our best to find her in time. Can you think of anything you saw or heard that may give us a clue as to where Hannah is being held captive?”

  Beth was trembling. “I um…I didn’t really see much before the night lights came on but I think I saw her coming from the direction of the swimming pool.”

  Chase came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Walt, I am almost certain she came from the patio and bar behind the swimming pool.”

  Walt Hunter took off towards the building behind the pool, signaling two nearby officers to follow. Beth and Chase followed close behind.

  They scanned the room for any signs of life or possible clues but found nothing. Walt unclipped the radio from the belt of his jeans and called for expert assistance.

  “Rob, please send Milo over to the bar building.” He turned to Beth and asked her if she had any item of clothing belonging to Hannah on hand.

  Beth shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know…Hannah did use the van a lot, perhaps there is something there that belonged to her.”

  Within a minutes an officer ran over with a floral patterned scarf in hand.

  “Does that belong to Hannah?” asked the sheriff.

  “Yes, I think it does. I remember seeing her wear that last week at the shop.”

  Walt held the scarf out in front of Milo, who sniffed at it a few times and began pawing on the grass rug in the middle of the room.

  Three more police officers raced up and a few moments later Officer Rob climbed out from the wine cellar with Hannah cradled safely in his arms. She was alive but unresponsive.

  Walt yelled into his radio. “We have her, I need medical assistance ASAP.”

  Two paramedics raced up and took over. Hannah was rushed to the hospital; the sound of the ambulance siren could be heard for miles and a swirl of blue and red lights swarmed the scene. The grounds were crawling with law enforcement officials who were busy putting up yellow tape and securing the scene.

  Beth was glad that Hannah had been found but there was still no sign of the missing antique pots and vases.

  “I am pretty sure that Mrs. Blackwood was not acting alone. She definitely had an accomplice—Jack Reynolds. I overheard them talking about Pots the afternoon of the drug bust at the warehouse. At the time I thought they were talking about Piper Pots but they must have been talking about the antiques in the shop. That also explains why Jack was so intent on pushing me into selling the shop. They wanted to buy the shop so that they could get their hands on the treasures my mother had hidden in the stock room.”

  Chase nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, Eleanor Blackwood admitted to most of it when she was arrested a little earlier.”

>   Walt immediately got out his cell phone and called the station.

  “I need you to get officers over to Jack Reynolds’ place ASAP. I have a strong feeling that he is about to skip town with a large shipment of very fine Chinese antiques.”

  Chapter 13

  “Thank you, Doctor, I am so glad to hear that she is going to make it.”

  “Yes, she was lucky. We got to her just in time; snake venom can be deadly. Although she had no obvious signs of a snake bite, her symptoms had me convinced that she had been poisoned with viper venom. Fortunately we had antivenom on hand. She will need a lot of rest but she should be ready to go home by the end of the week.”

  “Beth, let me drive you back to my place. It’s been a long day and it’s too far to drive back to Millie’s at this hour.” The warmth of Chase’s hand against her cheek made her heart skip a beat.

  “That sounds wonderful. I am exhausted.”

  They left the hospital a little after midnight. Sheriff Hunter had called just as they arrived at the hospital an hour earlier. They had apprehended Jack Reynolds on his sailboat just as he was heading out of the harbor. Her mother’s pots and vases had been recovered and Jack would be spending the night in custody with Eleanor Blackwood.

  Chase pulled up to the harbor and stopped in a reserved bay next to the Fisherman’s Wharf hotel and restaurant building. He helped Beth out of his truck and walked her over to a white sailboat and smiled, ushering her aboard.

  “Home sweet home.”

  “You live on a boat?” Beth was surprised; they had grown so close over the last few weeks but it had never occurred to her to ask where he lived.