by Sonia Parin
She guessed he wanted her to make an excuse and go out. She hoped that meant he wanted to give her an update away from prying eyes and ears.
“It’s going to be a bumper issue,” Faith said around a mouthful of Pavlova.
Finishing her coffee, Abby looked down at Doyle. “Hey, Doyle. Do you need to go out to commune with nature?”
Ever the gentleman, Sebastian got up and drew her chair back.
“Thank you.”
The elderly ladies sitting at their table all held their hands to their chests in deep admiration. One of them fanned herself.
As Abby strode off with Doyle, she heard Faith murmur, “You have a new fan club, Sebastian.”
Striding out through one of the many French doors, Abby smiled at the still sparkling night sky. At least Charles had been lucky enough to hold the event on a mild evening.
A garden path had been lit all the way to the lake. She could see a gondola bobbing gently in the water. A couple were already out in the middle of the lake. The gondolier had foregone the traditional striped red and white top for a typical Venetian carnival mask and a dark cloak. Abby couldn’t see the mask clearly from a distance, but she thought it looked like a court jester mask.
While Doyle went sniffing around a rose bush, Abby made her way down to the lake. Turning, she looked up at the house. Light spilled out from all the rooms. Laughter and murmured conversations wafted around and mingled with the sounds of a light jazz tune.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow moving on the terrace. The shadow stopped by a window. A few seconds later, it moved. As it moved past the French doors, Abby made out the shape of a man, dressed in a tuxedo. He made his way to the next window and stood there appearing to look inside.
Holding her breath, Abby counted and tried to determine how much time he stood there looking through the window. “One minute,” she whispered. He moved to the next window. Another minute elapsed. When he finally reached the corner of the house, he disappeared.
Taking a few sideways steps, Abby saw the edge of the tent Faith had described. Had the man gone in there to…
What?
If he’d been outside, he might be a late arrival, Abby thought, adding that he might be looking for his partner. “Yes, that could be it. He’s looking for familiar faces. Or, he might be staking out the place.”
Having finished his business, Doyle came to stand beside her.
“All done?” she asked.
He gave her a wag of his tail.
At the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravelly path, she turned again.
A man approached. He wore a tuxedo and a mask. Tall, but not as tall as Sebastian.
Abby smiled and imagined him introducing himself. “Bond. James Bond,” she said under her breath.
He continued his approach, striding toward her with an easy swagger that spoke of confidence. When she realized he was headed straight for her, she wondered if he was the same man she’d seen prowling around. And what made her now think he’d been prowling? A moment before, she’d thought he might have been a late arrival.
Abby felt a shiver running up and down her spine. She suddenly remembered a woman had died tonight, the cause of her death as yet to be determined. And here she was, out and about, by herself.
She looked over her shoulder. If she screamed, someone would hear her and come to her rescue. She could see the gondola making its way back to shore. Another couple meandered along another path, their steps casual enough to suggest they were enjoying the mild evening.
She’d be fine.
The footsteps drew closer. Looking down at Doyle, she saw him still, his little shoulders tensing. If he sensed danger, she knew he would alert her.
All the men at the ball looked the same in their tuxedos.
With only a few feet to go, her gaze dropped to the man’s mouth.
Doyle wagged his tail.
“Joshua?”
“Yes.”
Had he rushed home to change? A short while ago, he’d been dressed in his detective clothes; a light gray suit, a white shirt and a blue tie.
Had Sebastian sent her out to meet with Joshua? “What are you doing here?” she couldn’t help asking.
He looked around. She guessed he wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard.
“We need to talk.”
“Okay.” He hadn’t mentioned anything about the lovely evening or… her gown. So, she imagined he wanted to talk police business. Just in case she’d failed to read him right, she said, “It turned out to be a lovely night for a soirée.”
He nodded, almost as an afterthought. “Yes, I suppose so.”
Abby sighed. “A moment ago, I saw a man skulking around on the terrace.”
He turned and looked toward the terrace. Giving a small nod, he said, “I wanted to get the lay of the land without anyone noticing me.”
“Okay.” Her tone sounded wary. Maybe he had something personal to share with her. Maybe he just wanted to tap into her knowledge base and didn’t want to do it where their conversation could be overheard. Scooping in a breath, Abby braced herself. “Now you’re going to tell me you’re here on police business.” She gave a nervous swallow.
“I wanted to have a word with you before we went back inside.”
“Should I take my mask off? I feel I should. In fact, you might want to remove it too. I can’t help feeling we’re two masked crime fighting heroes meeting in the dead of night.” Abby frowned. “That would probably make me Robin to your Batman. Or…” She lifted a finger. “I could be Catwoman.”
Looking down at his shoes, he laughed.
“Okay. Out with it.”
“You know Marigold Winthrop is dead.”
Abby cringed. “Yes. I saw the paramedics taking her away.”
“I was at the hospital when they brought her in. I’d been checking on a car crash victim. Then Sebastian Cavendish called me.”
“Really? Why would he do that? Does he suspect foul play?”
“Since his grandfather’s unfortunate death, he’s become more cautious.” Joshua brushed his hand along the back of his neck. “He wanted to play it safe and make sure this had been a natural death. So, he told me everything he remembered seeing. He said Marigold complained of shortness of breath. The rest happened very quickly. When she collapsed, her lips turned blue. By the time the paramedics arrived, he’d already begun giving her CPR.”
Abby had missed all that because she’d already been out in the foyer. “Faith suggested she might have been asthmatic,” Abby murmured.
Joshua nodded. “Yes, I had the same thought. After I spoke with Sebastian, I made discreet inquiries with a doctor at the hospital. He could only tell me they didn’t have any records for Marigold Winthrop. If she had any pre-existing conditions, she might have been receiving treatment in the city. From what I understand, she spent most of the year there and rarely traveled out this way. So, it didn’t surprise me to find there were no medical records here.” Joshua blew out a hard breath and looked up at the night sky.
“And?”
“I’ll have to wait until morning to have a chat with Harry Winthrop. We have a competent medical examiner here, but the family might want to have the autopsy performed in the city.”
“Are you saying Sebastian suspects foul play?” she asked again.
“As I said, he wants to play it safe. After he gave me a brief rundown of the events, I tend to agree. There should be a thorough autopsy to eliminate all doubt. Sebastian’s description of what happened matches the doctors outline of a severe asthma attack.”
Thinking out loud, Abby said, “But… There could have been another contributing factor.”
“Maybe.”
“Meanwhile…” Abby curved her eyebrows and then remembered she wore a mask so Joshua wouldn’t be able to pick up on the prompt. “Are you planning on making discreet observations here? Tonight?”
“Yes. She died here so this is as good a place as any to sta
rt.” He looked over his shoulder. “There are so many guests. What was Charles thinking?”
“He’s an eccentric aristocrat.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Abby smiled. “He can do as he likes and not have to justify himself. Personally, I agree with you. However, if he wanted to invite that many people, he should have waited until we had milder weather and made it an outdoor day event. The grounds are certainly expansive enough to accommodate the entire town. I should suggest it to him.”
“He holds the annual archery competition,” Joshua said. “It’s not exactly a major drawcard but enough people come to require extra police on the roads.”
“So, what’s the plan? I noticed there are several off-duty officers in there.”
He nodded. “I’ve already had a word with them. They were too far away to see anything. They only went in to assist when they heard Sebastian calling for an ambulance. They didn’t see anything suspicious.”
And they probably hadn’t even been looking for anything suspicious, Abby thought.
“Since we don’t really have anything to go on with other than Sebastian’s need for assurances, I thought I’d make the rounds and see if I can pick up any vibes,” Joshua added.
This didn’t make sense. The police only stepped in when a crime had been committed. Just because Sebastian had concerns… She supposed he carried a lot of weight. “How exactly are you going to do that?” Abby asked.
He tugged his sleeve. “Well, I’m dressed for it, so I thought I’d mingle.”
“Yes, about that. Did you just happen to have a tuxedo handy?”
He chuckled. “No, this is courtesy of Charles. Just as well we have the same build.”
“What sort of discreet inquiries will you make?”
He shrugged. “I’d like some background information on Marigold Winthrop. You never know what might come up in conversation.” He looked down at his feet and then back up. “Would you be prepared to put on your reporter’s hat and send out your feelers?”
Abby chortled. “This just got weird. You’re asking me to assist?”
“I’m only suggesting you keep your ears to the ground. Someone might let something slip.”
Abby couldn’t help smiling.
“What?”
“I’m going to have to start charging you.” She patted her non-existent pockets. “If I’d known there would be trouble, I would have brought my cell phone with me or my camera. It would be good to take some photos of the guests.”
“Good idea. I’ll get my officers to do that. No one should suspect. I noticed a few people using their phones to take photos.”
“You’re really serious about this?”
He held out his arm. “Abby.”
“Yes?”
“I know I can trust you to be discreet.”
“Sure. Besides, as far as we know, a crime hasn’t actually been committed.” She hoped that remained the case.
Chapter Eight
BACK INSIDE THE BALLROOM, ABBY stood near a group of guests eavesdropping on their conversation. While no one had mentioned Marigold by name, everything Abby heard could only have been about her.
Some thought she had been presumptuous, always telling anyone who would listen about her plans to marry well.
Only one person gave Marigold credit for knowing what she wanted, seeing nothing wrong with Marigold going after it.
As for Marigold’s supposed fainting spell at the ball… Someone thought she might have been trying to gain sympathy from people who might otherwise criticize her for having an affair.
“If you ask me,” one woman said, “she’s trying to gain the moral high ground and point the finger of blame at Harry Winthrop. Apparently, he’s the one who’s been having the affair and she only pretended to be doing the same in order to get back at him.”
With dinner over, everyone had moved back to the ballroom. Only a few guests had stepped outside to enjoy a stroll in the park or a ride on one of the gondolas. Abby guessed everyone wanted to be inside, in case news came in.
Abby moved on to the next group. Not surprisingly, they were talking about Marigold. The group had been her contemporaries at school. Marigold had been at the top of the pecking order, holding court over the privileged few allowed to orbit near her. The women in that group had been more interested in outdoing each other by claiming a closer relationship with Marigold than in gossiping about her.
So far, few people had mentioned Harry Winthrop.
As Abby continued to make the rounds, she exchanged a few polite smiles; the simple gesture delivering a compact message. Lovely evening. Having fun? We should do this more often. Where did all these people come from? My feet are killing me…
The Faydon brothers were making sure everyone had a turn on the dance floor, leaving no one out. When Mitch Faydon made a beeline for her, his hand outstretched, Abby ducked for cover only to run straight into Joshua.
“Here you are. I’ve been looking for you,” he said.
Before she could stop him, he took her hand and led her to the dance floor.
“This isn’t a good idea, Joshua.”
“Are you about to tell me you can’t dance?”
“Of course, I can dance. I mean… sort of. I have dyslexic feet. I issue the command to go right, and the words get all scrambled up. Also, I’m not sure how Doyle feels about dancing.”
“I suppose there’s no point in suggesting you set him down.”
“No, there isn’t.” She pressed Doyle’s cheek against hers. “I wouldn’t want him to feel left out.”
“Well, if he doesn’t mind, then I don’t mind.” Joshua chortled. “There’s nothing to it. You just shuffle around. Put your weight on one foot and then the other. Besides, we need to update each other.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. We’ll give it our best shot but I only have one arm free.”
“That’s all you need.” He took hold of her hand and slid his other hand around her waist.
Doyle’s chocolate brown eyes jumped between Joshua and Abby. She waited for him to squirm but, instead, he settled against her. Abby imagined Doyle wanting to see how this would turn out.
Fine, she thought. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Joshua laughed. “I’m not asking you to bungy jump.”
“Oh, you might as well be.”
“If you can walk and talk, then you can shuffle your feet and talk.”
“Okay.”
“On the count of three,” he said.
Joshua led her toward his right and Abby instinctively moved in the opposite direction. He stopped and looked at her, his eyes wide and holding a look of disbelief she’d seen once too often.
Abby grinned. “I warned you.”
“Let’s keep it simple and shuffle on the spot.” His eyebrows curved up. “Do you think you can manage that?”
“Sure. Um… Am I shuffling toward you?”
“Well, we’ve tried moving sideways and that didn’t go too well. So, yes… Shuffle toward me and then shuffle away. One. Two. Three.”
Just as she began to move, the music ended. “Oh. What a shame. So, what did you want to tell me?”
“So far, I haven’t heard anything that could even be taken seriously. Of course, everyone is talking about Marigold. Have you been actively asking questions?”
Abby shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t know where to start without giving something away.”
“Here’s another tune.” Joshua groaned lightly. “The Cha-cha-cha. Okay. I’m game.”
Abby bit the edge of her lip. “Oh, I recognize the tune. It raises the degree of difficulty somewhat but I’m up for the challenge.”
“Are you sure?”
Abby gave him a confident nod. “It has a basic pattern of three steps and I know I can count to three.” She tried to remember what else she knew about the dance. “You’re going to take a step forward… with your left foot while retaining some weight on the right foo
t. The knee of the right leg will stay bent and close to the back of your left knee, the left leg will straighten just prior to receiving part of the weight. You’ll take that step on the second beat of the bar. Full weight will then return to the right leg on the second step, which will be beat three.” She closed her eyes and dug around for the rest of the information she had stored in her mind. “Oh, yes. Finally, those three steps constitute the cha-cha chasse.”
Joshua nodded. “Okay. I have my instructions. What will you do?”
“I’ll wiggle my hips. That should distract anyone watching me make a complete and utter fool of myself.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s execute it while there’s still music to dance to.”
Abby winced. “Execute might not be the best choice of words.”
He began moving and, to Abby’s surprise, she moved too. “In case you’re wondering, I interviewed a ballroom dancer once and she explained the steps. It must have lodged in my mind.”
“Thank goodness for your elephant memory.”
“You’re… You’re surprisingly good,” she remarked. He didn’t miss a step, not even when Abby lost her rhythm. “Where did you learn to dance?”
He gave her a smug smile. “Natural born talent.” After a few more steps, he added, “My mom owns a dance studio. She had dreams of me becoming a national champion.”
“And?”
“I set conditions. I promised to continue attending her classes as a standby for anyone without a partner but only so long as she didn’t push me into all that glitter and make-up.” He looked over her shoulder. “Mitch and Markus took lessons with her.”
“She must be an excellent teacher.”
Joshua nodded. “She’s won a few trophies.”
“Just so you know, I haven’t memorized any other steps,” Abby warned. “Okay, so what have you got? Did you hear anything at all of interest?” If Marigold had died of something other than natural causes, the pressure would be on him to find evidence which would lead them to the culprit. Abby looked around. If Marigold had been killed, could the killer still be among them?
Joshua looked down at Doyle. “I’ve been hearing a few tales about Doyle barking at Marigold.”