Murder, Mayhem and Bliss

by Loulou Harrington

  “Judgment day. And it was ugly.” Jesse’s hand was on the temperature control, already turning it down. “Are you warm enough now?”

  “Yeah, I’m better. Thanks. Judgment for who?”

  “For me.” Putting the truck in gear, Jesse pulled carefully back onto the highway.

  “Oh, thank God!” Bliss threw her head back against the seat and went limp, then just as quickly sat up again. “I mean, wow, I’m so sorry.”

  She looked instantly contrite, but her sympathy sounded seriously forced. Jesse worked to keep a straight face. Any mixed feelings Bliss had were understood, and only served to make her seem more human, something she could use a little more of. Petite, blond goddesses could be a little hard to warm up to.

  “Have you had a lot of friends in your life, Bliss?” The question just popped out of nowhere, and it was Jesse’s turn to look contrite. “I mean, gosh.… That didn’t come out right.”

  “Oh, my goodness, I’ve upset you,” Bliss said at the same time. Her palms flattened against both of her cheeks, and her big, brown eyes grew hugely round. “I’m so-o-o sorry. I’m not normally insensitive and self-centered. Really I’m not!”

  “Well, I wish I could say that I don’t normally go around sticking my foot in my mouth, but unfortunately, I do,” Jesse hurried to say. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. And, actually, I’m very reassured by any flaws that you show, so don’t worry about that. What I meant was that sometimes, for a lot of different reasons, really pretty girls have trouble making friends with other girls. Did that happen to you?”

  “Oh, well, sort of, I guess. Like I mentioned, my parents moved around a lot, and until they started leaving me with Aunt Viv and Uncle Malcolm during the summers, I didn’t really stay anywhere long enough to make real friendships.”

  “How about after you were grown?”

  “Well, I had Harry. And there was Bill, and then Cindilee.”

  “And you and Cindilee were friends?” Jesse had begun to regret asking the original question, but now it seemed that Bliss had had at least one girlfriend through the years.

  “Uh, that depends.” Bliss shifted uncomfortably. “Cindilee’s kind of different, if you know what I mean.”

  Or not. Jesse remembered that Vivian wasn’t particularly fond of the woman. Maybe this was why.

  “I don’t know her very well myself,” Jesse conceded. “But Mrs. Marshall seemed nice enough when I talked to her.”

  “Oh, she can be likeable, especially if she wants to be,” Bliss agreed. “But she has a lot of layers. What is that word? Nuanced? Yeah, that’s it. We were friends, but I don’t think she ever really liked me, if you know what I mean.”

  “Jealousy, maybe,” Jesse offered. She could certainly see why.

  “I don’t really know. It took me awhile to notice that she was always the friendliest when there was someone else around to see it.”

  “Is that why Vivian isn’t particularly fond of her?” Jesse made a mental note to take another look at her own conversation with Cindilee Marshall, especially the comments regarding Bliss. Maybe another talk on Cindilee’s own turf would be a good idea, if Jesse could think of a good reason to show up at the Marshall house unannounced.

  “Actually, Aunt Viv’s attitude developed when Cindilee tried too hard to ingratiate herself. There’s nothing Aunt Vivian dislikes more than someone trying to suck up to her.”

  Bliss grew quiet for a moment, then added, “You know, since Cindilee was so obviously faking her friendship for me, I could have seen things that weren’t really there, but it always seemed to me that she didn’t have a whole lot of genuine feelings for anyone. Even with Bill, she always seemed to be more about possession than love.”

  Startled, Jesse darted a sideways glance toward Bliss. “Really? ‘Cause that just sounds creepy.”

  “Can I get an ‘Amen’, sister?” Bliss said with a nod.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After safely depositing Bliss at the Windsor Mansion, Jesse stepped into the foyer of her revamped Victorian at straight up three o’clock. To her right, the glass-paned French doors into the tea room were closed. Inside, she could see a scattering of patrons lingering over coffee, conversation and dessert, three things for which the Gilded Lily was famous.

  To Jesse’s left, one of a duplicate set of French doors opened, and Constance Oliver, co-owner and manager of the Gilded Lily Antiques and Vintage Shop, stuck her head out.

  “Get in here,” Connie hissed, motioning with her arm as she stepped back to leave the door open. “I waited all day yesterday to ambush you.” She closed the door behind Jesse, and then put herself in front of it. “And then you left this morning before I got here.”

  Jesse looked around to see if there were any customers. To her relief, they appeared to be alone, since she couldn’t afford eavesdroppers on a conversation she didn’t want to have in the first place. “I assume you have questions about Harry Kerr,” she said gingerly.

  “I can’t tell you how embarrassing it’s been to spend two full days telling people I know nothing about his death.” Connie’s hands fluttered as she talked, setting the bangles on her wrists to jingling. “When everybody knows you’re my business partner and friend, and that Vivian Windsor tells you everything.”

  “But,” Jesse pointed out, “I don’t repeat what she says. I’ve never discussed Vivian’s private life or business or, well, anything.”

  “Nobody cares about that.” The younger woman shook her sleek, shoulder-length bob of ebony hair and batted her long, dark lashes over truly stunning Caribbean-blue eyes. “You have been smack dab in the middle of what appears to be a murder investigation for two full days, and nobody can get near you to pump you for information, so they’re grabbing me…” She swept her arm to the side of her and backward toward the door on the opposite side of the foyer, setting off more tinkling of bracelets. “…and those poor women over there.”

  Distracted by the sophisticated bling that was Constance Oliver, and reminded of the pin-up lushness of Bliss Kerr, Jesse couldn’t help thinking it was a good thing she had a strong ego, or being surrounded by so many gorgeous women might begin to bother her.

  “Of course,” Connie continued, ceasing her complaints long enough to grin infectiously. “They are spending a lot of money in here while they try to drag information out of me. Sales for the last two days have been fantastic, but, really, you have to give me something I can toss to them. There were four of them in here earlier today, all coming at me at once, and I started to get panicky. But then Matt came in, and they backed off. Oh, by the way, he said to tell you ‘what the hell are you thinking?’…And for you to ‘butt out’.”

  “Well, you can thank him for his concern and tell him he might try taking his own advice.” Jesse caught herself before going on in greater detail. She shouldn’t be snippy with Connie just because Matthew Oliver continued to be annoyingly overbearing.

  “That’s what I told him you’d say.” Connie shook her head, and her silky hair swirled around her face before sliding flawlessly back into place once again. “I’ve said it before, but I can see why you two didn’t make it. You treat each other way too much like brother and sister to have ever been married.”

  “You’re about seventeen years too late on the marriage counseling, and since you’re currently married to him yourself, don’t you think it’s kind of a wasted effort?”

  “Whoa,” Connie said, shifting gears into the maternal mode that lurked unexpectedly beneath her surface. “You’re not getting sensitive, are you?” She moved closer, her concern obvious. “This stuff is getting to you, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be teasing you right now. I’m sorry.”

  Jesse stared into the amazing blue eyes that were so full of compassion and marveled that in the space of less than an hour, she had made two, kind and beautiful women apologize for upsetting her when they had neither one done anything that needed an apology. Maybe she was beginning to stress out. Maybe she was taking
this all too seriously, but what choice did she have?

  “I really hate to be babied by someone ten years younger than me,” was what she said aloud.

  “Well, you’re such a delicate soul,” was Connie’s response.

  “Are you two fighting again?” Matt called from the private, garden entrance at the other end of the room.

  “We just made up,” Connie answered with a wink to Jesse.

  Hearing Matt’s voice, Jesse felt tears burn the back of her eyes and had to fight the urge to run the distance of the shop and fling herself against his strong, broad shoulders. It was almost embarrassing, on several levels.

  “Okay,” she whispered grudgingly to the woman next to her, “so, maybe you’re right. But if he’s my brother, does that make you my sister? Because it seems like it would.”

  “Well, sure, silly. Are you just now realizing that?” Connie slipped her arm around Jesse’s waist and gave her the kind of quick hug that always made Jesse intensely uncomfortable. Then, demonstrating the instinct that made her such a valuable friend, Connie released the embrace and stepped away before Jesse gave into her need to wiggle free.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Matt emerged from a corridor that snaked down one side of the room, then curved back to the center.

  “Just reaffirming the eternal bond of sisterhood,” Jesse said.

  “And Jesse’s a little stressed out right now, so go easy on her. You know how everybody always depends on her to fix things when they go wrong.”

  Matt came to a halt next to his wife, and they slipped their arms around each other’s waists. “Selfish bastards,” he said as he leaned down and kissed Connie lightly on the lips, then pulled her close to his side.

  “Are they beating up on you, kid?” he asked Jesse.

  “Well, I hadn’t noticed it until I got here and she started giving me sympathy.” Jesse indicated Connie, who was now tucked tightly into Matt’s left armpit. “Then I just seemed to start falling apart.”

  “She’s insidious that way,” Matt sympathized. “Did she give you my message?”

  “Yes, and if Vivian’s in trouble, you know I don’t have any choice.”

  Connie tilted her head back to stare up at her husband. “She said what I told you she would say.”

  “Let’s see, that gives us two ‘butt outs’ and one ‘I told you so’.” Matt smiled at them both. “I think we all need to get a beer and talk about this.”

  “I can’t close the shop for at least another hour,” Connie said at the same time Jesse said, “I have a meeting next door that I have to go to.”

  “You’re getting those nice ladies in the tea room all involved in this, aren’t you?” he asked with a disapproving frown.

  “Those nice ladies waylaid me at six am, demanding involvement,” Jesse argued. “And besides, SueAnn is already showing a real flair for this stuff.”

  Matt leaned toward his wife and whispered, “That’s why she’s stressed. She’s dragging innocents into this, and now she’s going to be responsible for any danger they’re in.”

  “Don’t say that!” Jesse demanded.

  Connie’s head pivoted from one to the other as if she were watching a ping-pong match before her gaze finally came to rest on her husband. “Well, really, I sort of did the same thing, but she hasn’t involved me yet. I think I’m starting to feel left out.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He dropped another kiss on her forehead. “She’s going to be involving us both over beers later this evening, right after she gets through involving them even more deeply.” He gave his head a sideways nod toward the tea room across the hall.

  “Oh, how wonderful.” Connie looked at him as if he’d just given her a present.

  Jesse frowned. “Really?” Then, as she felt her heart lifting, she grinned. “Really? You really want to? Why?”

  “For many reasons, not the least of which is that I know Connie’s not going to be able to keep her nose out of it. And the other, not the least of which, is that you need somebody watching your back. And you don’t have that right now.”

  “Really?” Jesse wouldn’t say it for the world, but she felt such relief that Matt and Connie might be joining her happy band of incompetents. If the two of them did nothing more than serve as a sounding board for her, their levelheadedness would be invaluable.

  It was amazing that what had once been a decent, but unremarkable, marriage had transformed into a wonderful divorce, gifting Jesse with an ex-husband who had become a best friend and his new wife whose generous, accepting spirit had embraced Jesse like family.

  “Besides,” Matt said. “I’m friends with Joe Tyler, and if nothing else, I might be able to help keep your goofy butt out of jail, at least for awhile.”

  So much for warm, fuzzy feelings. Jesse threw back her head and growled, as frustrated as if she were still married to the man.

  On her way out the door, Matt called, “We’ll meet you upstairs at five-thirty. I’ll bring the beer.”

  “And pizza,” Connie said. “We’ll bring pizza.”

  ∙∙∙•••●●●•••∙∙∙

  Across the hall, the customers were gone, the closed sign was up, and the curtains were drawn. A center table held a tuna salad sandwich on fresh bread Jesse had helped make before leaving that morning. Hot tea brewed in a hand painted, six-cup, English china teapot.

  A cup and saucer, small bowl of fruit, and the plate with the sandwich were also English china in complementing floral patterns of green and gold. It was standard dinnerware for the tea room and part of Jesse’s personal collection, or obsession as some had suggested. She sat down, took a deep breath and began to relax.

  “We thought you might be hungry,” Sophia said from across the room.

  “We were pretty certain you would be hungry,” Lindsey amended, leaving the coffee bar to join Jesse at the table.

  “We have dessert if you’re still hungry after that,” SueAnn called from the kitchen.

  “Matt and Connie want to have a meeting a little after closing, so I think I’ll hold off on dessert,” Jesse said. “If there’s enough, SueAnn, you could put it in a bag and I’ll take it upstairs with me.”

  “Sure thing,” SueAnn answered. By the time Sophia joined Lindsey and Jesse at the table, SueAnn set a bagged container on a neighboring table and joined the rest of them.

  Everyone else drank coffee and nibbled at slices of pumpkin tea bread while Jesse ate her sandwich and drank a hot cup of Earl Grey. “I don’t suppose there’s any pumpkin bread in that sack over there?” she asked SueAnn hopefully. She hated to ask, but the smell of cinnamon and spices were wooing her. “Because if there isn’t, I may have to have a piece before I leave.”

  SueAnn grinned. “I put in three slices of pumpkin bread, and a big chunk of millionaire pie, since I know that’s Matt’s favorite.”

  “Oh, you’re an angel,” Jesse said. “No wonder people like eating here. This stuff is good.”

  Lindsey made a snorting noise and rolled her eyes.

  “Okay,” Jesse answered her unspoken meaning. “The recipes are mainly mine, but you all are doing most of the cooking now, and it really is good.”

  “Finish that sandwich,” Lindsey said, “so we can quit patting ourselves on the back and get down to business.”

  “Ohmigod.” SueAnn drooped in her chair with a sigh. “They nearly killed us today. Thank goodness we’re off tomorrow.”

  “Vultures.” Disgust dripped from Lindsey’s voice. “I swear there were some people who came through here three times today. Especially after the news crew got here.”

  News crew? Jesse choked on her tuna, then downed a cup and a half of tea before her coughing stopped.

  “Oh, good grief,” she sputtered when she could speak again. “I suck at sneaking anyway. Now I have to worry about getting caught on film while I’m doing stuff the sheriff already wants to arrest me for.”

  “Cheer up.” Lindsey leaned closer. “We heard st
uff.”

  “Good stuff,” SueAnn confirmed with a grin.

  A sudden, heart-pounding anticipation pushed aside Jesse’s second thoughts. “What?”

  “Finish your tuna first, dear.” Sophia nudged the plate closer. “We don’t want you choking again.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jesse diligently applied herself to what remained of her sandwich, then paused to suggest, “Why don’t you do the lead-in while I’m still eating. I think that’s safe enough.”

  She slanted a sideways glance toward her mother to see if the sarcasm had hit home, but Sophia’s attention was focused on Lindsey, who appeared to be silently seeking permission to proceed. Sophia answered with a one-shouldered shrug.

  SueAnn scooted forward in her chair until she was leaning over her elbows on the tabletop. “You start,” she urged Lindsey, clearly exerting all of her self-control not to rush ahead with whatever news she was sitting on.

  Jesse took the last bite of her sandwich, savoring the mouthful even as she hurriedly chewed. She couldn’t be sure where this tale was going, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want to risk a full mouth when it got there.

  Lindsey rolled her eyes toward SueAnn in warning before she started.

  “I won’t say a word till you’re done.” The promise was accompanied by a crossher-heart gesture and a look of deep sincerity in SueAnn’s chocolate eyes.

  With a nod of acceptance, Lindsey turned to Jesse and began, “Well, there was this woman. She came in by herself and took a seat at the bar. Then, while I fixed her half-caff, low-fat whatever, she started talking to me. No foreplay at all—she just started right in about that poor Mr. Kerr, and how she felt really sorry for his wife when everything started becoming public.”

  Sophia refilled Jesse’s tea cup and nudged it closer. Rather than letting it distract her, Jesse took a drink and refocused her attention on Lindsey.

  “So, instead of mumbling something discouraging and pointing her toward a table, which were all full anyway, I asked her what she was talking about.”