by Nan Sampson
Poplars flanked the drive near the top of the hill, framing the brick, Queen Anne Victorian perfectly. It was a huge old place, with a sweeping porch that wrapped nearly three quarters of the way around the house, and not one, but two turrets. A lovely old bronze weather vane adorned the peaked roof, the perfect finishing touch. Ellie loved the look of the place. And the rooms were just as lovely – she had reason to know, she’d stayed here each time she’d come up for the weekend these past two months while supervising the remodeling of the shop.
Laura parked and led her up the stone steps to the porch, striding energetically, and pushed open the heavy paneled wood door as though she were part of the family. “Follow me. We’ll go right to the kitchen. That’s where Arabella’s bound to be this time of day.”
Ellie followed along behind her, through a long, wall-papered hallway, past a formal parlor on one side and a sumptuous library/study on the other. A few people were scattered about in chairs in both rooms, and the air held a hushed quality, as in a library or an old-fashioned gentleman’s club.
“Every time I stay here, I marvel at how beautiful this place is.”
Laura nodded. “I know, right? Once upon a time it was the home of the wealthiest family in Horizon, during the mining boom. But when things went bust in the twenties an investor came in from Chicago and turned the place into an Inn. By the time Seth and Arabella came on the scene, the place was a falling down wreck. You can see what wonders they’ve done over the years.” She waved her hand around at the carefully restored woodwork, and the authentic looking, if not actual authentic antiques that littered the place.
Laura kept a steady pace, moving through the house with obvious familiarity. “Their granddaughter Chloe still keeps a room in the house – she’s the night clerk during the school year – she studies accounting in Mad City at the University. But Seth and Bella actually live out in the old carriage house now. Helps make more room for guests. And, as you can see, they’ve got a pretty full house this weekend because of a wedding.” Laura laughed. “Ten years ago I couldn’t imagine anyone who’d want to come to Horizon to get married. Now…” She spread her hands and shrugged. “Well, frankly, I still can’t imagine it. But I sure won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
They passed through a doorway and turned left into a narrower corridor. The sounds of pots and pans clanging could now be heard, as well as a few well-seasoned curses.
There was a swinging door at the end of the passage and Laura pushed it open just far enough to stick her head inside. “Bella? It’s me, Laura.”
There was a clatter and a hearty “Damn.” Then a sigh. “Hey, Laura.”
Laura pushed open the door and Ellie followed her through. “I’ve brought you a surprise. Ta da!” She gestured towards Ellie with both hands. “Our newest resident, finally come to roost.”
Arabella Kemp wore her almost seventy years well. A slim woman, with aristocratic features, she must have been a striking beauty in her youth. Mild gray eyes smiled out of a pleasantly lined face, and her steel gray hair was pulled back in a sensible chignon at the nape of her neck. She smiled broadly as she saw Ellie.
“Ellie, dear! So good to finally have you here for good.” She wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron and came over to give Ellie a hug, while Ellie did her best not to pull away. “Good heavens, what happened to your finger?”
“Just an accident. Cut it on a broken cup. It’s nothing.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” She tsked over Ellie’s bandaged hand. “When we got your message, we weren’t sure you were going to make it this weekend. I’m so glad it worked out.”
Ellie puzzled at that for a moment. “Message? I didn’t leave you a message.”
“Well, of course you did, dear. Chloe took the call. Cancelling your reservation, saying you wouldn’t be needing the room.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Kemp, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t leave you any message.”
“Oh dear. Oh dearie me. But we’ve given away your reservation to a last minute wedding guest. I’m sure…” She sighed again. “I just don’t know what to say!”
Ellie felt her temper start to rise, although she couldn’t take her ire out on Arabella Kemp. “So I haven’t got a room?” This was just great. She couldn’t take possession of her cabin yet and now she didn’t even have a room at the Inn.
Arabella frowned. “I…I just don’t know what to say.” She brushed a few stray hairs back from her forehead, leaving flour smudges. “Now don’t you worry. We’ll figure something out. Worse comes to worst, you can always stay with Chloe.”
Arabella must have seen the look on Ellie’s face at that suggestion. “But I’m sure it won’t come to that. You just leave this to me, I’ll find a way to make it right. Now, you two must be hungry. The wedding folks have already had their lunch, but Chloe and Millie haven’t finished clearing the big dining room. Why don’t the two of you grab a table in the tea room and I’ll bring you out something special I’ve been working on. It’s a brand new recipe. I think it’ll be just the thing to brighten everyone’s spirits.”
Laura nodded. “Oo, that sounds lovely. Why don’t you join us? I bet you haven’t eaten a thing yourself.”
“Oh, there’s no time for that. But I will sit down with you for a moment for a cup of tea. Now run along, I’ll be with you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
With that they were effectively dismissed from the lady’s kitchen. Ellie followed Laura back out the way they came, then through another doorway that led to a cozy little room in which were clustered five or six small tables. A stately sideboard was positioned along one wall, currently covered with empty platters that come tea time would be filled with delectable pastries, both sweet and savory.
“Laura, shouldn’t we tell her about Artie?”
Laura frowned, her tiny little bow mouth pulling together. “We should. It’s just not my favorite thing. If I’d been able to get hold of Patti, Bella would already know, but no one answered out at the farm.”
Having been on the receiving end of bad news of this sort, Ellie knew it would be better to do it sooner than later. “I’ll tell her if you like. She should hear it from someone who cares about her – not from the police.”
“I suppose, although it’s not as though Bill is like the police… I mean, he is the police, but he’s not, you know?” She trailed off. “Still, I suppose you’re right. Would you really do it? I just don’t know what to say.”
Ellie sighed. “Sure.” Great, she thought. Just what I want to do on my first day in town — tell a woman that a dear friend of hers has been murdered.
“Thanks, Ellie. I knew I was going to like you, from the moment Terri told me about you.” She pulled a necklace out from under her collared pink t-shirt with the Gilded Page logo on it. “I think we have more than one thing in common.”
A small pentacle hung from the silver chain.
Ellie smiled. “I’d heard there was a community of pagans here.”
“You are, aren’t you? Terri said she thought you were, but you’d never really discussed it outright.”
Ellie laughed. “It’s no secret. I mean, I don’t ride around on a broom, but I don’t hide my beliefs either. Is it hard here? To be out as a Pagan or a Wiccan?”
“Not hard… we’re close enough to Circle Sanctuary that we see our fair share, even among the tourists. But there are a lot of hardline church-goers too and they’re not so fond of us. I mean, there’s never been any real problems, but we all sort of keep it on the down low. No point in rubbing it in their faces, you know?”
“I understand. So I take it your shop has a fairly well-stocked occult section?”
Laura laughed and fidgeted with her pendant. She was, it seemed, constantly in motion. “Oh, yeah. And if there’s anything I don’t carry that you’re interested in, let me know. I’m currently on the hunt for a first edition Gardiner, although I’ll probably pay a fortune for it if I ever find one. We
have a great selection of old books as well as new stuff. I love the smell of old books, don’t you?”
The woman, Ellie thought, practically vibrated. “Do you drink a lot of coffee, Laura?”
The bookseller laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ve always been like this. A bit high strung, my grandmother always said. But yes, I do love my coffee. I cannot wait ‘til you get your shop open. I’ll probably be one of your best customers. My mother is a traditionalist – you know, two cups of Folgers, black, every morning. Me, I’m a sissy coffee drinker. The more syrups and whip cream and sugar you can add to it, the happier I am.”
The woman’s friendly babbling was starting to get on Ellie’s frayed nerves. She felt exhausted all of sudden and wanted a few moments of quiet. Still, better a friendly chatter-bug than a town full of stony-faced bigots. That’s what most of her Chicago friends had warned her she was in for.
She was spared trying to come up with a response because Arabella chose that moment to come in through the swinging door, caring a tray of plates.
“Here you are, ladies. I thought you might want to start with a small, simple salad. Fresh greens from the garden and some sliced pears and blueberries. Then I’ll bring out my new recipe for the main course. It’s a variation on Penne all’Arrabbiata, only I’ve used our own, secret sauce along with a mixture of heirloom pepper varieties to spice it up a little more. The pasta is homemade as well. Seth loves to fiddle around making pastas. But don’t worry. It’s a luncheon sized portion. Nothing too heavy for the middle of the day.”
Ellie looked at Laura as Arabella settled two full plates in front of them. Laura, in turn, gave her a puppy dog look.
“Mrs. Kemp, have a seat with us for a moment, would you?”
“I really should get back to the kitchen…”
“Please. Just for a moment.”
Arabella smiled. “Well, one little minute couldn’t hurt.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. “Weddings are wonderful for the business. But,” she confided, sotto voce, although there was no one to overhear her, “absolute Hell on my feet.”
When she found both women staring at her, she gestured at the plates. “Eat. Eat.”
“Actually, Mrs. Kemp…” Ellie started.
“Now, I’ve told you, dear. It’s Arabella. Or Bella. Or Bell. Anything but my mother-in-law’s name.”
Ellie nodded, started again. “Arabella. We both wanted to tell you something. There’s been... an unfortunate turn of events.”
Worry crossed the woman’s face. “Aside from your reservation? What is it?”
“It’s about Artie. You see, when I got to the shop this morning, I found Artie…”
Arabella clapped a hand to her chest. “Oh my Lord, don’t tell me he’s had a heart attack. And on the heels of his moving south. Is he…?”
“I’m sorry, yes. He’s dead. But it wasn’t a heart attack.”
There was an odd look in the older woman’s eyes. A flash of suspicion, maybe. “Not a heart attack? But then what? A stroke?”
“No. Mr. Cullen was…killed. Rather gruesomely. I’m no cop, but I’d say that whoever did it, had a grudge against him.”
Arabella sat in silence for a moment. “Oh my. You’re sure it was murder?”
“Quite.”
She took a stuttering breath, then straightened a bit. “Well. I guess it’s a good thing Helen isn’t around to see this. It’d just be one more trial to endure in a lifetime of trials.” Her gaze wandered out the window and she was quiet again.
“I’m so sorry to have to tell you like this. But we – that is, Laura and I – didn’t want you to hear it from a stranger. Is there someone I can call for you? Is Mr. Kemp around?”
Arabella sat staring out the window for another moment or two then collected herself. She patted Ellie on the hand. “Oh, Ellie, you’re such a dear. But no, no need to bother Seth, he’ll hear about it soon enough... and I’ll be fine.” She sat back in her chair then stood abruptly and crossed to the heavy, mahogany side board, where she opened up one of the bottom cupboard doors. Pulling out a crystal decanter, she grabbed a tea cup off one of the covered doilies and filled it to the brim with the amber liquid.
She settled back into her chair and took a hefty swig. “Oh. That’s better.” She sighed. “Are you alright, dear? It must have been a terrible shock, finding Artie. How awful for you.” She gestured at the decanter. “Perhaps I should offer you a little fortification as well.”
Ellie shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m good.” And she was. Although she was surprised to see Arabella so composed. She didn’t know exactly what she’d expected, but this calm resignation surely hadn’t been it. “Are you sure I can’t call someone to come and be with you? I know the shock of this kind of news can sometimes sneak up on you.”
Oh, how well she knew. It hadn’t been until the night after her parents’ murder that it had all finally crashed in on her – the reality of their last moments, the sudden vacuum that was now at the center of her life. She’d been in the grocery store when it hit. Suddenly she found herself sitting on the floor in the frozen food aisle, back against the freezer case, knees against her chest, sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Arabella’s tea cup clattered into its saucer. “I’ve seen my share of death, dear. Even ugly death. It’s not as though I was particularly close with Artie.”
Laura seemed surprised. “But... I thought you all were close – I mean, you folks from the old commune days. Mom always says you guys need to stick together.”
“Well, some of us are closer than others. Patti and I adored Helen. And don’t get me wrong, Artie had his moments. The man could charm the scales off a snake when he wanted to. But he could also be a real dick.”
Across the table, Laura’s eyes widened and her lips curled up in a tiny smile that she quickly quashed.
Arabella seemed to sense the expression anyway. “Oh, I know. You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but it’s just the truth. Artie was trouble. Frankly, I place the blame of the collapse of our community squarely in his lap – although I realize that it probably would have happened anyway in the fullness of time. Still, it wouldn’t have been nearly as painful if it had simply died an ordinary death.”
She paused, finished off the liquor in her tea cup, and then stood abruptly. “Well. I’ve chattered on long enough. I need to get back to the kitchen.”
Still worried about what would happen when the reality of Artie’s death sank in, Ellie laid a tentative hand on Arabella’s arm. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to join us for lunch?”
“No, dear. I’ve got too much to do. There’ll be food to make for the wake, too. I’m sure Patti will want to help out, but it does make sense to have it here. It’ll have to be after the wedding party leaves though. Weddings and funerals just don’t mix.”
She gathered up her tea cup, then replaced the decanter in the cupboard. “I’ll bring those entrees out in just a few minutes. You girls enjoy your salad.”
She hurried back to her kitchen, with not one question out of her mouth about how Artie had died. And that, Ellie thought, was just about the oddest thing that had happened on an already very odd day.
Chapter 6
Lunch was delicious. But Ellie could only nibble. She had no appetite. And after seeing Artie Cullen awash in syrup and chicken feathers, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to eat pancakes again.
After the meal, which Arabella refused to let them pay for, Laura offered to take her over to the Chief’s office. She hated imposing, but her finger was throbbing and a migraine was trying hard to squat behind her eyes. Not to mention it was nearly ninety degrees out there.
They were on the front porch when Arabella came running after them.
“Ellie! I’ve just talked to Patti Mough.” As near as Ellie could tell, Patti and Arabella were as close as sisters. Maybe closer, given what she’d seen of how her friend Kate and her sister behaved. “She insists you stay with them until the wedding
guests are gone, or Arnie’s cabin is made fit for a human being to inhabit.”
Ellie balked. No. She couldn’t. Not only was it an imposition, but she didn’t really know the Moughs that well, despite the fact that they were helping get her new home ready so that she could move in. Plus, she didn’t want to have to be on company behavior. She just wanted to be left alone, to get her shop up and running. “I really couldn’t. It’s very sweet of her, but—”
“Nonsense. She won’t take no for an answer. Where are your bags, I’ll have Seth or Jamie run them over there?”
“My bags… they’re still in my car. In town. So no need to—”
Laura piped in. “Bill wanted to examine her car. Like it was part of the crime scene or something. That’s why I brought her over here.”
The woman’s eye brows rose. “What? Oh, that’s just nonsense. There have to be at least fifty people in this town who’d like to help Arnie on his way to the next life. Ellie here hardly even knows him.” She made a derisive noise. “Men.” Then, “Fine. I’ll have Jamie take a trip over there to fetch your bags from that big-town Know-It-All. He needs to run into Valleyview to pick up some chicken feed anyway. My hens aren’t going to lay if they’re hungry.”
Ellie’s shirt collar chafed. “No, really, Mrs. Kemp. It’s not necessary. I’ll take care of it. In fact, I’m sure I can scrounge up a hotel room over in Valleyview.”
“At that hideous roadside motel there on the edge of town? Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll get fleas.” She shook her head. “Laura, you run her on over to Patti and Earl’s. I’ll see that Jamie gets her car over there to her later this afternoon.”
“But—”
Arabella raised her hand. “Nope. Don’t even start.”
Next to her, Laura grinned. “You’ll find there is no nay-saying either Arabella or Patti. They pretty much run this town, despite what that snake Karl Howard and the rest of the town council like to think.”
Great. Shanghaied by the local feminist power grid. What on earth would be next? “Well. Okay. Um, thanks.”