“I’m heading back that way if you’d like a lift,” Ralph offered, and Emma readily took him up on it.
“Oh, but before I go,” she said, “there’s one more thing I was wondering about. That bloodroot leaf that Sheriff Carlyle found in Zach’s book. Did Zach ever explain why it was there?”
“It’s only a guess,” Piper said. “But Zach thinks Lydia put it there. He said he spotted Lydia at the library the day before. He kept his distance from her, but he remembered leaving his backpack unguarded at his study table, when he went in search of another book. Zach thinks Lydia could have planted the leaf in one of his own books—one he seldom referred to that he kept in his backpack—at that time.”
Piper paused, thinking. “At Lydia’s tea,” she said, “I browsed through the books on the house’s library shelves. I came across one called Healing Plants and checked the index for bloodroot and I didn’t find it listed. But Frances had told me most of those books had been bought by Dirk Unger from an estate sale, so I didn’t think it mattered, one way or the other. Lydia wasn’t really on my radar, then, as a suspect.
“The sheriff found that book when they searched the Porters’ house. It turns out it hadn’t been part of the bulk sale but was Lydia’s own book, which she’d hidden in plain sight. Bloodroot was definitely discussed in that book—how it can be medicinal if used properly—but it was listed under its Latin name. Lydia apparently was interested in how it could be used in a deadly way.” Piper grimaced. “I wish I’d figured her out much sooner.”
“Lydia fooled all of us,” Emma said. “We never thought to wonder where she was when Dirk Unger was poisoned.”
Piper nodded. “She could have added bloodroot to his salad very easily. She knew when he’d be with Jeremy and away from his house, and she surely knew about his habit of misplacing his keys and therefore leaving his doors unlocked. Dirk somehow discovered Lydia’s secret and was using it for his own selfish ends. I’m sure it’s the reason Lydia left her prestigious position on the Tedbury Academy board and came to Cloverdale. Although she claimed it was to be close to her son, it was more likely to keep an eye on Dirk and to watch for a chance to get rid of him.”
“She must have been responsible for Joan Tilley’s poisoning, too,” Emma said, showing more anger over that than over Dirk Unger’s poisoning.
“I’m sure she was. Lydia had bought a jar of my brandied cherries the first time she was in my shop and she later claimed that Mallory loved it. But Mallory told the sheriff she never even saw the jar. She simply backed her mother’s claim out of her habit of obedience.”
“So when Lydia realized you might be getting close to finding her out,” Ralph said, “as well as possibly for interfering with her control of Mallory, she must have poisoned the jar she already had and slipped it back on your shelf, hoping to derail your efforts.”
“Evil woman,” Emma said. “She didn’t care who she hurt, did she? You were very clever, Piper, to put things together when you did.” Piper shrugged, still badly wishing she’d been quicker.
Emma turned to Ralph. “On to Stan’s, now, to congratulate him on his new grandson!”
Piper smiled as the two took off, highly pleased that Stan’s life had taken a happy turn instead of the kind she’d once feared for him. They’d barely left, when Tammy Butterworth walked in, glancing over her shoulder at Ralph’s truck disappearing in the distance.
“That was Ralph Strawbridge, wasn’t it?” she asked Piper. When Piper agreed it was, she said, “I heard about him figuring out where Zach was all that time. Clever man!”
“He certainly is. There’s a lot more to Ralph than expert woodworker.”
“Oh, I knew that.” Tammy’s eyes twinkled mischievously.
“You did?”
Tammy glanced back at the street Ralph had just driven down. “He doesn’t know me, but I know him.”
Piper waited, and, when Tammy only grinned, cried, “Well? Are you going to tell me?”
Tammy laughed. “The cat’s going to be out of the bag soon, so I might as well. Ralph’s a millionaire. Maybe billionaire.”
“What!”
Tammy nodded vigorously. “He was one of the developers of that social networking site, Frendz. Are you on it? Seems like everyone in the world is, nowadays.”
“How do you know this?” Piper asked. “I mean about Ralph being the developer?”
Tammy smiled, clearly enjoying her tale. “My mother was his nanny. It was years ago, of course, but she was very fond of him and liked to keep track of things he did as he grew up. She talked about him so much and was so proud of him—Mum liked to claim it was her proper potty training that set him on the right path—and after she died I kept an eye on his comings and goings, too. It wasn’t hard. He was in the papers a lot, mostly the financial pages. He made a bundle when he finally left with all the Frendz stock options he’d held on to.”
“He did? Then why is he making doors and bookcases? I mean, I’m glad he is doing his woodwork, but . . .”
“Well, I’m sure he has more money than he could ever use and doesn’t need to make any more. My guess is he’s just decided to live the simple life and do what makes him happy.”
“Oh my gosh!” Piper sank down on one of her stools as she took in that information. “I remember him giving Amy some pretty thoughtful business advice about setting up her restaurant one day, but I never dreamed . . .”
“He’s a crafty one.” Tammy cackled. “Sugar Heywood’s going to be pretty surprised, wouldn’t you say?”
“Whoo! You got that right.” Piper thought about Sugar’s initial, single criticism of Ralph, that he wasn’t ambitious enough. She’d obviously long since put any concern of that sort aside but Sugar was still going to be bowled over when the full story came out. Which it surely would. Piper remembered Sugar’s admonishment to Zach about being honest with the girl he cared for. Ralph was going to have to fess up. Piper wished she could see Sugar’s reaction when that happened.
“Well, what I came in for was some of your lemon curd,” Tammy said. “I’ll be going over to Jeremy’s and wanted to take him some. It’s small comfort, I know, for what he’s going through. But it’s something.”
Piper went over to her shelf and reached for a jar. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Tammy,” she said. “It must be hard on all of them.”
Tammy nodded. “On second thought, give me two jars.”
As Piper rang them up, Tammy said, “I’m sure your business will pick up again, now that everyone will know the source of your poisoned preserve.”
“I have seen a couple of regular customers come in who’d stayed away. They might have come to hear more details of what happened yesterday but they left with purchases.”
“See! Didn’t I tell you? Things will be back the way they used to be before long.”
Piper hoped so, at least for her shop. But some things would never be the same. Jeremy and Mallory were in for a pretty rough time, for one thing. Dirk Unger wouldn’t spring back to life but at least Mrs. Tilley and Frances Billings had survived, though who knew with what possible health repercussions down the road. At their age, recovering from such critical illness didn’t come easily, Piper was sure. But Zach was cleared and free to resume his education and things were definitely looking up for Sugar, so several changes were for the better.
Piper smiled, thanked Tammy for her purchases, and decided to be as optimistic as this extraordinary cleaning lady.
. . .
It wasn’t too much later that Piper got a call from Marguerite Lloyd. Expecting a question concerning Lydia Porter, she instead heard, “Lamb! Is that newsletter out?”
Piper had completely forgotten about the women’s club newsletter for which she’d promised to write an article about Marguerite’s landscaping business.
“I’m not sure, Marguerite. Can I get back to you on that?�
�
“I need to know. I can’t keep my silky dogwoods on sale forever. You did put in that they’re on sale, didn’t you?”
Since Piper had turned writing of the article over to Emma, and Emma had been occupied with looking after Mrs. Tilley, Piper had no idea what was or was not in the newsletter.
“Marguerite, things have been pretty busy around here,” she said, aware of her extreme understatement.
“Oh, right. The Porter thing.” Marguerite’s tone changed. “So she’s the one did in Unger?”
“It definitely appears that way.”
“Slimy thing—Unger, I mean.” Marguerite huffed. “Lydia, too, I suppose. I worked with him, you know, some time ago.”
Piper did know, but she simply said, “Oh?”
“Back in Ohio. Backstabbing snake of a man. I wouldn’t have minded bumping him off myself. I should thank Lydia for doing it for me. Why did she, by the way? Did he have something on her?”
“Most likely.” Piper knew what Unger had found out about Lydia—her illegitimate baby—but didn’t say so. Nor did she mention how high on the list of suspects Marguerite herself had once been. Instead, she said, “I imagine it will all come out, eventually.”
“Right. Well, let me know about that newsletter as soon as you can.” Marguerite had moved back to what she considered more important things.
Piper promised, then heard the click as Marguerite hung up. Must be nice, Piper thought as she set down the phone, to be so focused and able to easily shut out any and all things that didn’t directly affect oneself. She wished Marguerite well—and hoped she’d have little to do with her from then on.
31
A month had gone by since Lydia Porter’s arrest and the news came out that Lydia Porter had pleaded guilty to the murder of Dirk Unger and the attempted murders of Frances Billings and Joan Tilley, thus avoiding a lengthy trial that would be highly stressful for her children. Rumor was she’d gotten a plea bargain.
Aunt Judy, who’d stopped by Piper’s Picklings, tsked. “Very sad about Lydia. Of course, she made her own bed.”
“She did,” Piper agreed, “and hurt plenty of people in the process. I don’t think she’ll be terribly missed.”
“How is Mallory taking it all?” Aunt Judy asked.
“It’s been a roller coaster of emotions for her. But overall, I think she’s proud of herself for finally standing up for what was right. She’s come out of it all with a sense of strength and freedom she’s probably never experienced before.”
“Poor thing. To be treated like a twelve-year-old for so long by her mother.” Aunt Judy tsked again and looked about to say more when they suddenly spotted the subject of their conversation heading toward the shop.
“Piper!” Mallory cried as she burst in looking super excited. “I got the job! Jeanine hired me to work in her fabric shop.”
“That’s wonderful, Mallory,” Piper said, and Aunt Judy clapped her hands. They both gave Mallory congratulatory hugs. “I know you’ll be fantastic at it,” Piper said, stepping back.
Mallory beamed. “You think so? I’m a little scared. I never had a job before. But Aunt Gwen’s been walking me through all the things I should know, like getting my own checking account and stuff. I might even get my own apartment! Then I could decorate the whole thing myself.”
“First things first,” Aunt Judy said, laughing. “I’m sure Jeremy wouldn’t mind letting you do a little redecorating at his house while you save up your salary.”
“Well . . .” Mallory’s lips curved upward in a kind of secretive smile. “Maybe, but I should probably leave that up to . . .” She stopped.
“Up to who?” Aunt Judy asked.
“I’m not sure I should say yet,” Mallory said, still smiling oddly.
Emma Leahy had walked in to catch the last of the conversation. “Why not?” she asked. “It’s all over town.”
“What is?” Aunt Judy asked.
Amy, who’d been in the back working on a batch of pickled fennel, appeared, wiping her hands on a towel and looking interested as well, always somehow able to keep up with anything going on at the front of the shop, no matter how busy she was.
“So you haven’t heard yet?” Emma asked slyly.
“No, Emma!” Aunt Judy cried in good-natured frustration. “Now, will you please tell us!”
Emma looked at Mallory, who nodded, then said, “Jeremy and Tammy Butterworth have run off and got married.”
“What!”
Emma thoroughly enjoyed the shock on all three faces.
“Is that true, Mallory?” Piper asked.
“Yes!” Mallory cried, bouncing on her toes by then, with a full grin on her face.
“Oh, what a hoot!” Amy cried, throwing her towel toward the ceiling and collapsing on a nearby stool. “Won’t Lydia—” She glanced at Mallory and stopped herself from finishing that, saying instead, “That’s just terrific!”
“I . . . I’m surprised,” Aunt Judy said. “I didn’t realize they . . .”
“I’m surprised, too,” Piper said, “but I think I can understand it. Jeremy likes to be fussed over and Tammy likes to fuss. He’ll be well looked after, I guarantee.”
“Yes, but . . .” Aunt Judy was still struggling.
“Jeremy probably felt free to finally make such a decision with his mother not there to interfere,” Emma said. “Don’t you think, Mallory?”
“Oh, yes,” Mallory said. “Absolutely.
“Who knows,” Emma added, “how long he might have had leanings in that direction but never dared to act on them. They’ve known each other for quite a while, from what I understand. Then again, Tammy . . . well . . . never try to understand the ways of the heart,” Emma said, patting Aunt Judy’s arm. “Speaking of which,” she turned to Piper, “I happened to see Scott Littleton browsing through the gift shop over on Maple. You don’t suppose . . .”
She looked at Piper significantly and Piper felt Aunt Judy’s and Amy’s eyes turn on her as well. She shrugged, though aware of a growing uneasiness. “Maybe he was picking out a wedding present for Tammy and Jeremy?”
Emma shook her head firmly. “He didn’t even know until I told him.”
“Sugar and Ralph?” Aunt Judy asked tentatively.
“Nothing’s been announced there,” Piper said, adding, “yet. I imagine they’re taking things slowly. But wasn’t that a surprise about Ralph’s former career?” she asked, more than happy to steer the subject in another direction.
“Absolutely!” both older women cried.
“I can’t imagine hiding something like that,” Amy said. “Most people would be bragging about what they’d accomplished.”
“Ralph Strawbridge isn’t the bragging type,” Aunt Judy said. “Maybe he wanted people to like him for himself, not for how much money he’d acquired.”
Emma nodded and Piper thought about how much pleasure Ralph clearly got from the praise of his hand-carved door. Surely that meant more than buying an expensive car you didn’t need or moving into an oversized mansion. Some people figured things out a lot sooner than others.
She suddenly spotted Scott heading toward her shop, carrying a package.
Apparently Aunt Judy saw him, too. “I just remembered,” she said, grabbing her purse. “I was going to stop at the library for a book. Walk with me, Emma,” she said, turning her friend firmly by the arm toward the door. “You, too, Mallory.”
Amy, picking up on the reason for the others’ hasty departure, withdrew to the back room and her pickled fennel, leaving Piper alone to brace herself, unsure exactly what for. But knowing Scott . . .
There was a flurry of greetings outside her shop, as Aunt Judy, Emma, and Mallory met up with Scott. Then the women continued on, Emma looking back a bit longingly as Scott leaned on the door of Piper’s Picklings, pushing it open with one should
er as he clutched his package with both hands. Piper eyed the box nervously.
“Hi, there,” he said as he let the door close behind him.
“Hi. Looks like you’ve been shopping.” Piper picked up a duster and began flicking it rapidly over her shelved jars.
“I have.” Scott carried his package over to her counter and set it down. “I saw this and couldn’t resist.”
Piper set down her duster and stared firmly at him. “No, Scott.”
“No, what?”
“No gifts.”
“But—”
“We agreed, remember? And you promised not to do this anymore.”
There was a long pause, then Scott cleared his throat. “Piper,” he said. “This isn’t for you.”
“Oh!” Piper felt her cheeks warm. “Okay. Sorry. Um, who is it for?”
“It’s for Sugar.” Scott began untying the string that secured the top. “She’s been sending me new clients and I wanted to thank her somehow, some way special. Then I spotted this.” He flipped off the lid and began flinging out wads of tissue paper as Piper watched, catching one or two wads. Scott grasped an object wrapped thickly in Bubble Wrap and carefully pulled it out. He set it on Piper’s counter and began peeling away the wrap.
Piper let out a soft ohhhh as Scott’s gift was gradually revealed: a lovely porcelain statue of a mother and child, the child young but clearly a boy.
Scott looked at Piper, gauging her reaction. “Well?” he asked. “What do you think? Will she like it?”
“She’ll love it, Scott.” Piper felt her eyes begin to tear and rapidly blinked them clear. “It’s a perfect gift for Sugar. That was very perceptive of you.”
Scott smiled. “There was no missing their love for each other the whole time I worked for those two.”
“Can I see?” Amy’s voice called from the back room, and both Piper and Scott grinned.
“Absolutely,” Scott said, and Amy stepped out, her towel slung over one shoulder.
“Nice!” she proclaimed after a careful study of the statue. “Very nice.”
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