by Beth Byers
While she escaped to the bath to wash her face and teeth and take care of her other business, Charles disappeared to finish his preparations. By the time Georgette had buttoned herself into her clothes, he had returned and waved her after him, finger still over his lip.
They tip-toed to the back garden, where Charles had already gathered breakfast buns, fruit, cheese, and a thermos of tea. He handed Georgette a steaming mug, made how she liked and then tugged her out the door. The dogs tripped behind them as though they knew that he was arranging an adventure, and there wasn’t a peep out of them other than the click of their nails against the floors.
Charles seated her in the auto and then joined her after putting the dogs in the back.
“Charles?” Georgette was slowly waking with the help of the tea.
“We’re having an adventure.”
“An adventure?”
“Darling Georgie, have you not noticed we’ve been invaded?”
She smiled at him and despite her morning sickness, which he knew she suffered daily, she seemed happy. Perhaps because she was holding that large mug of tea. It was the kind with cocoa and coffee along with black tea, and she adored it more than almost anything else.
Charles started the auto and pulled onto the road.
“What are we doing?” Georgette asked. She’d found the blanket he’d put in the auto, wrapped it around herself, and snuggled against his arm.
“We’re escaping.”
“Our own house?”
He laughed as he repeated, “We’ve been invaded. We need time away.”
Georgette nodded against his shoulder and sighed deeply. It took mere moments for her to relax. He motored through the countryside, looking at his notes. When he’d mentioned to Joseph that he was sneaking Georgette out, Joseph had suggested that they see if it were possible to take the back roads between the houses where two of the Lynd siblings had purchased homes together. The sun had risen as they drove and the morning was lovely in shades of oranges and pinks.
He drove slowly, in no hurry to return home, and watched for someone who might have noticed the passing of an auto on a generally untraveled road. “You know what I think is interesting?”
Georgette shook her head against his shoulder. She glanced up at him, and then at the tea mug. Finally, she sat up and started to refill her mug, carefully balancing against the slow rumble of the auto.
“That the Lynds chose to live near each other. We seem to be doing the same. I told Robert about your idea that we’d find him a house and see if we could update it over time, and he was intrigued. He said he’d never want to live in Harper’s Hollow without us there, but he’d never want to live anywhere else if we were in Harper’s Hollow.”
Georgette wove her fingers through Charles’s and let him have a sip of her tea. “That makes me happy.”
“My nephews adore you. And they love having a place for holidays. Robert told me it was as though he had a childhood home again.”
“Oh, I like that,” she replied. She snuggled back into his side. “What do you think we should look for?”
“He’s not in a hurry,” Charles reminded her. “Like Joseph, he has some of the money from their parents’ home sale. He’s added to it, so he isn’t starting with nothing.”
Georgette paused and then asked Charles what was on her mind. “What about Joseph and Marian?”
He stiffened under her shoulder and she stiffened along with him. “I’m afraid that there isn’t anything that we can do. If we interfere, they might just turn on us.”
“Would that they’d turn on her parents,” Georgette muttered. “Let’s not worry about that.”
They stopped to enjoy the breakfast he’d brought as the dogs sniffed the area.
“What do you think of the name Charles for a son?” Georgette asked.
“No,” Charles said instantly. “No. Of course not. What about George?”
Georgette laughed. “No. That makes my skin crawl. What about your brother’s name?”
“Philip? No, if someone is going to name a child after him, it should be Robert or Joseph.”
“What about Hazel for a girl? Octavia?”
“I like Octavia,” Charles replied, kissing her fingers. “What about a literature name? We did fall in love over books, didn’t we?”
Georgette hummed her agreement and then took another sip of tea. “I like books. And you. And falling in love over books. Perhaps name from a Jane Austen.”
“Wentworth,” Charles shot out instantly. “I am half-agony, half-hope.”
“Oh yes!” Georgette said and then pointed at a little cottage right near the door. “Anne or Wentworth. Unless we decided to be quite normal and choose Frederick.”
They finished the meal and drove along the road once more until they reached a cottage set close enough to have a good view of the passing automobiles.
Charles stopped the auto near the cottage.
Georgette eyed him suspiciously and then laughed. “Is this the adventurous part? Questioning the locals?”
He grinned. “Two birds with one stone.”
The two of them approached the door and Charles knocked. At first, there was no answer.
“Hello,” Georgette called. “Hello there?”
A woman in an apron came to the door and Georgette smiled engagingly. “Hullo there.”
“Hello,” the woman said, wiping the flour from her hands with her apron. “If you’ve got trouble with your automobile, I don’t have a telephone.”
“We were actually wondering if you could answer questions for us. This road seems very quiet.”
“It is,” she said. “No one takes this road when the other is so much faster. It’s a direct route to anywhere people want to go. Mostly only ramblers go through here and not so much now. Those tend to be students.”
“What about tramps?”
“You never know when some poor homeless fellow is going to come walking through,” she said. “But it’s not so often.”
“What about last Thursday? Did someone drive through here?”
The woman started to shake her head and then she paused. “You know, there was a black auto that drove by.”
“Did you see who was driving?”
“Just heard it. I looked out and saw the tail end of it. It could have been anyone driving the auto. Heck, it could have been a ghost behind the wheel. I’d never have known the difference.”
“But there was an auto?” Charles asked. “Do you think you’d recognize it if you saw it again?”
She shook her head. “Why are you asking?”
“We’re trying to track someone’s movements. There was a bit of an accident.”
“Is the person all right?”
Charles smiled his professional smile and nodded. “Everyone’s going to be just fine. I suppose we’re partially out here just to have a quiet ride together as well as test our theory.” His charming grin quieted whatever concern the woman had.
He knew Georgette was considering the woman in that way she had. The woman had come quickly to the window and answered readily. Charles could well imagine she peeked often on who was going where. Most of the drivers that passed her home might well be people she knew. Outside of the wireless, what could be more intriguing?
“Well, I don’t know what it would matter,” the woman said. “Driving down here or not. Nothing to see. Most folks don’t come this way. That’s all I can tell you for sure.”
“We appreciate it,” Georgette said, a happy grin on her face that Charles knew was from experience instead of true feeling. “You were ever so helpful.”
They left a few moments later and Georgette said to Charles, “We should stop by Katherine’s house using this route and see if any of them have black sedans.”
“We should,” he agreed. “Though perhaps with Joseph along as well.”
“We could stop in town to bring them a treat. Some friendly excuse to barge into their family and verify rising tensions.”
Charles laughed and they finished their drive, passing Katherine’s house just as tea was approaching. Outside of the house, three autos stood at the ready, two black sedans and a farmer’s truck. Charles looked at his wife who met his gaze and nodded. Things had already been pointing at one of the family being the one who’d struck down Lizette Lynd. Who else would know that Lizette would be there? Who else would be able to follow her? Who would have a grudge?
It seemed that the criminal had to be someone who knew just what Lizette was and perhaps more—just how her venom affected those around her.
MARIAN PARKER
Marian woke at the creak on the stairs, and she peeked out the door. There was a part of her who wanted the person on the stairs to be Joseph, demanding that they discuss what had gone wrong between them, but it wasn’t. Charles had a small smile on his face as he led the half-asleep Georgette down the stairs. He saw Marian over Georgette’s shoulder and winked, putting a finger to his lips as Georgette yawned deeply.
She nodded and forced a smile and then shut the door to her room. She knew that if she returned to bed, she wouldn’t sleep, so she took a sheet of paper, a lap writing desk, and pen and returned to her bed.
On one side of the sheet, she wrote “Pros of Marrying Joseph.” On the flip side of the sheet, she wrote “Cons of Marrying Joseph.” She fiddled with her pen as she stared at the cons list and then slowly wrote out: I’ll disappoint my parents. I’ll be alone often. His work is dangerous, and I may be widowed early.
She wrote stupid things that didn’t really matter to her next: He snuffles when he falls asleep on the train. He’s angry with my parents.
After a long moment of introspection, she added: rightfully.
Marian wanted to be angry with him, but she wasn’t entirely blind. Her father and mother had been slowly and conscientiously trying to put a wedge between her and Joseph. What surprised her was that they seemed to care so very much.
Perhaps Mother, who had often been alone with the children while Father worked, had a point. Who knew better than Mother the effect of having a husband long at work while you were home with the children? But Marian guessed that many women experienced such things. Why Joseph? Why was he so objectionable?
Marian knew that they didn’t love how his entire family—until recently—had been a trio of bachelors. But they weren’t anymore. Robert was a bit young to marry, but Joseph was ready to settle down. And Charles had waited far too long, to the great fortune of both him and Georgette.
Perhaps her parents worried that Joseph wouldn’t appreciate her because his family was so fractured? Marian was certain that the opposite was true. All three of the Aaron men worshipped Georgette because she had returned the sense of family to their lives.
Marian got out of bed and paced her bedroom. If she threw Joseph over, she knew he’d be upset. She believed he loved her, and she knew she loved him. He’d heal, however, and then he’d look for another wife. One who would put him first.
Her stomach dropped, sickened. There were no pros on the side of the list to marry Joseph, but the most important one didn’t need to be written. If she didn’t marry him, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. She’d spend every passing year wondering what her life would have been like with Joseph. Even if she fell in love and married another, every fight, every hard time, Marian would wonder how it would have been with Joseph. Because, she thought, she’d never stop loving him.
Why then was she being so stupid and letting her parents succeed in getting their wedge into place?
Chapter 11
JOSEPH AARON
“Worthless!” Constable Higgins sat behind his desk, looking at the pile of their notes. “And a huge waste of time.”
They’d spent the last few hours going over every single piece of evidence. Every single thing they’d learned. “I’ll be damned if it wasn’t one of those Lynds that clocked the woman. If she’s not going to report who it was, I say we title it family squabble and move on with our work.”
Joseph nodded. What else could they do? Lizette Lynd didn’t want their help. The Lynd family either knew it was one of them or suspected it, and they’d closed ranks. If no one else in the town was in danger, why drag out the investigation?
The bell to the police office rang and both men looked up to find Charles.
“Where is Georgette?”
“Sleeping in the auto.” He glanced back and then said, “We found the route and we verified an auto did take that road. But it was a black sedan—it’ll never help a court case, even I know that.”
“Do the Lynds have a black sedan?”
“They have two that I saw,” Charles said. “We talked to a woman who said that she’d seen the black auto but she refused to say if she could recognize it again. It is possible to take a route between where the Lynds live and where Katherine lives without needing to use a road into the village. That might even be their preference,” he added. “The route was delightful to be honest.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck and then shook his head. “It doesn’t do you any good, does it? Georgette told me that Lizette is refusing to speak.”
“They all are,” Joseph said. “Higgins and I had just decided that we’re going to chalk it up to a family dispute. No one has died, they clearly don’t want our help, all evidence points to it being a family person and not a rampaging tramp. We’re done here. I’ll write my report Monday morning and go back to Scotland Yard.”
“Fabulous,” Charles said dryly. “Family dinner tomorrow night. Robert is coming in. Georgette has some mad plan for him that he’s indulging.”
Joseph lifted his brows and pasted a smile on his face, but he hadn’t really heard his uncle. Or he’d heard it, but he didn’t care all that much. Instead he nodded and rose.
“I’m going for a walk.” He nodded to the constable and said, “Next time, my friend, we’re just having fish and chips and a football game. No more intransigent woman who doesn’t want our help.”
Joseph walked out of the police station and glanced both ways before deciding upon the walk next to the river. He would follow it and find his head, he hoped.
GEORGETTE DOROTHY AARON
Georgette got out of the auto with her dogs when she saw Katherine Lynd and told Charles with a wink, “I’ll see you at home.”
Katherine was out and out moseying. Georgette watched her for a moment as she walked down the road. The woman leaned over and sniffed some of the late-blooming flowers. She slowly stood upright again and then said something to one of the children passing by. The little one grinned widely and hugged Katherine’s leg before being tugged away by her mother.
Katherine was, without question, the kindest woman that Georgette had ever seen. Georgette crossed to her, catching up as she paused once again.
“You don’t want to go home.”
Katherine started and then turned on Georgette. Tears filled Katherine’s eyes and her bottom lip trembled. “I hate having her in my house.”
“I don’t blame you,” Georgette said, tucking her arm through Katherine’s. “What if we were to go have a good pot of tea and too many cakes?”
Katherine nodded and they walked to the teashop together, taking the table in the corner. Georgette didn’t ask any questions and Katherine didn’t volunteer any information, but a tear or two slipped down her face while Georgette plied her with tea and cakes. It was the silence that Katherine needed and when they finished their tea, Georgette walked her home. Katherine took a fortifying breath.
Before she left, Georgette reminded her, “This is your house.”
“Lizette sees it as hers. Eldest son and all that.”
“Disabuse her of the notion.”
Katherine bit down on her bottom lip and then met Georgette’s gaze. “One of my children hurt Lizette. They know who did it, but I don’t. The problem is that Lizette thinks she has this…this…ability to use that information over all of them.”
Georgette had seen people get away wit
h their crimes before. She didn’t see why this moment needed to be any different. She knew it was callous. She knew it made Lizette nothing more than a one-layered villain who deserved what had happened to her.
But the thing was—Katherine. It was Katherine for Georgette. Katherine was being tortured by her daughter-in-law when Georgette would be grateful every day for having such a woman willing to look at her as family, treat her as family, love her as family. Lizette was such dimwit that Georgette didn’t care if she suffered a little for whatever she was trying to do to Katherine and her children.
Georgette took a long look at Katherine and repeated, “This is your house. This is your house, your family, you’re in charge. As long as your children are united and you with them, I’m not sure she can be all that effective against you.”
Katherine stared at Georgette. “That’s some Machiavellian hijinks.”
Georgette laughed. “You—I—you’re a surprise, Katherine.”
Katherine chased Georgette’s comment with a little girl’s giggle. “I wasn’t always a grandmother. I’ve read. I’ve lived more than just in an orchard near the wood in tiny little village. This is me now, Georgette. Not me always.”
Georgette laughed again and then glanced beyond Katherine where her grandchildren were playing under those trees. “You’re right. This isn’t me always either. Not so long ago, I was the town’s old maid who was slowly losing more and more money and without prospects. Eunice and I would have died slowly of starvation or ended in a debtor’s prison. Do they still have those?”
Katherine looked up in surprise. “No, they don’t. You might have starved or gotten weak and then sick. It’s hard to get over an illness when we’re already dying.”
“I know I’m lucky.”
“You’re lucky.” Katherine hugged Georgette. “Because you are loved.”
“I’m not the only one who is lucky. Your children love you. Protect them back, darling.”
Katherine nodded and Georgette left her, making her way back to her house through the wood. She had run until it hurt the other day. This time the walk was idyllic. She wasn’t worried anymore. It was nice to feel safe where you lived. That thought was chased by the thought of Lizette.