Posies and Poison (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 1)

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Posies and Poison (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 1) Page 2

by Wendy Meadows


  Molly’s eyes lit up when they entered the Morning Sun, the bell at the shop door making its friendly jingle. Phyllis introduced her daughter to the new owner of Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. As Molly shook her hand, Brenda gazed around the warm interior, where people sat happily ensconced at little tables or booths with their drinks. Toward the back were several cozy armchairs where a few solo patrons sat to read their newspapers. Upbeat music played softly over the radio and it smelled invitingly of freshly roasted coffee beans.

  “I’ve already heard a lot about you,” said Molly. “Logan couldn’t stop talking about you. That is, when he finally decided to come in for work.” She laughed fondly. Logan, making a latté behind the counter, kept his eyes down at Molly’s comment and did not look up. “Where do you want to sit?” asked Molly.

  “By the window, of course,” said Phyllis. “We don’t want to miss anything going on outside.”

  Molly brought over a plain black coffee for her mother and a latté for Carrie, and set a fragrant, steaming mug in front of Brenda. “Vanilla latté, our specialty, as requested,” she said. “I hope you like it. I’ll send Logan over with a bite to eat in just a moment.”

  Molly hurried off to help her other customers and the three women sat sipping their drinks and watching as tourists strolled by on the sidewalk outside. A couple sat down at the table next to theirs.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to survive another raise in rent. That woman has enough money without squeezing more from everyone in town.” Brenda’s eyes widened. They tried not to listen, but the couple’s talk was drowned out a moment later by the jangling door bell. A large group of tourists had all trooped into the coffee shop at once.

  Phyllis shook her head and frowned, leaning forward. “They must mean Lady Pendleton. Molly said something about it to me yesterday. Lady Pendleton came around to tell everyone to expect another increase. She just increased them two months ago! There ought to be a law against that.”

  “She will keep doing it until there’s no businesses left in town,” said Carrie. “I wonder if she’s thought about that. No businesses would mean no rent and the whole town would die.” Brenda was puzzled by Carrie’s tone, which seemed far too bitter for one so young.

  Logan approached their table with a plate of delectable poppy seed scones. “Maybe she doesn’t care if everyone goes out of business,” he commented, apparently all too familiar with this topic. “Maybe she wants to be all alone on her heap of money up in that mansion.” He set down the plate and winked at Carrie before heading back to the coffee bar.

  Phyllis shook her head. “That’s not it. The property is what seems to give her lordship over everyone: not the money, but knowing she owns it all.”

  Molly, having returned to top off her mother’s coffee, also overheard their conversation. “She gets a real kick out of causing hardship for others. She has no heart whatsoever.”

  “Alright already,” exclaimed Brenda. “Who is this ogre who seems to rule everyone around here?” This was all the prodding they needed to expound on Lady Pendleton.

  “I don’t think anyone knows her first name,” Molly said.

  “I think she likes that her name has been forgotten over the years,” said Carrie with a melancholy sigh. “It is kind of old-fashioned and romantic, even for a real estate ogre, don’t you think?” Carrie rolled her eyes.

  “Well, she prefers to be called Lady Pendleton, I know that much. She gave me a talking-to one time when I called her Mrs. Pendleton. I’ll never forget that,” said Molly. “Here’s the funny thing, though. She’s married to a man the complete opposite of her. From what I’ve heard, he has a modest pension. He manages to live mentally and emotionally apart from his wife. William is his name. He married into her family’s money and has no control over what his wife does in her business dealings.”

  “He is a shy man but very nice to everyone he meets. I don’t understand why he’s still with her,” said Carrie. “He could do so much better for himself.”

  The others nodded. Phyllis stirred her fresh cup of black coffee. Brenda noted Phyllis’s face had remained blank the whole time—except when Molly had spoken William Pendleton’s name. A soft fold had appeared at the corners of her mouth, like the suggestion of a smile.

  Everyone glanced toward the door as the bell jingled again. Molly’s face lit up. Phyllis leaned closer to Brenda. “That’s Molly’s boyfriend, Pete Graham. He’s the mailman, too.”

  Pete hurried over to greet Molly and handed her a short stack of mail. “I brought this by from your post office box to save you time going to fetch it.”

  Molly’s gaze was glued to Pete’s for an instant. She thanked him and introduced him to Brenda. As they shook hands she saw his eyes were almost navy blue. A hank of dark hair nearly covered his right eye and he brushed it back. He was tall compared to Molly’s petite, tanned frame.

  As it turned out, Pete brought more than just the mail. “I guess you heard what her ladyship is doing now,” he said. They nodded. “I heard she is ready to evict the Swansons out on Hideaway Road. They were a hundred dollars short on rent and she refused to wait until the end of the week for the balance. She’s already sent the authorities out there to serve eviction papers. They have two days to get out.”

  Looks of sadness and consternation flooded the faces of everyone around Brenda. Then Carrie spoke up.

  “Why doesn’t your father do something about that woman? He’s her lawyer. How can he stand by and watch this? Surely he can get her to stop this madness. The Swansons have four small children. Where will they go?”

  It dawned on Brenda that Pete Graham was the son of the lawyer she dealt with in the matter of inheriting her uncle’s estate and the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. Knowing the care and concern he had demonstrated with her simple questions, she thought Carrie made a good point.

  “The only reason my father keeps her as a client is so that she won’t go to some high-powered lawyers who will go along with everything she wants. At least my father stands up to her sometimes. But he’s not a miracle worker.” Pete knew the rationalization was lame but it was all he could offer. “It’s not only the Swansons who will be affected, she is coming down hard on two more families out on Hideaway Road. I don’t know where it will all end but I’ll keep you posted on that.”

  Brenda made a mental note to not give out confidential information about the bed and breakfast. Small-town friendliness came at a cost, she realized. If the day came when Pete Graham had anything against her, she knew how damaging it would be.

  She decided she would need to emphasize to Carrie later, in private, to not divulge the business’s financial information to anyone around town. She wondered how that would fly.

  When the three women left Morning Sun, they stopped at Sweet Treats Bakery a few doors down. “This is where we get our pastries and baked goods for the bed and breakfast,” explained Carrie, opening the glass front door of the shop. “Hope bakes everything on the premises daily.” Brenda’s mouth watered thinking of the fresh sesame seed bagel she enjoyed earlier at breakfast.

  Hope greeted them with a broad smile and insisted they sample the petit fours she had just finished decorating with dainty icing flowers. No one could resist, and the confections were richly flavored but light on the tongue. “These are incredible,” Brenda marveled.

  “Exactly. The guests rave about our breakfasts and desserts. Hope is our secret weapon,” Carrie said with a grin.

  Their next stop was Jenny’s Blossoms, a shop at the quieter end of the main road. The display windows held meticulously arranged bouquets of daisies and a deep pink flower Brenda couldn’t name but instantly coveted for her bedside table. Jenny Rivers, the owner, greeted them with enthusiasm. “No introduction necessary, Phyllis. Hello, Brenda. I’m so happy to meet Randolph Sheffield’s niece at last.” Brenda smiled back at her friendly greeting as they shook hands.

  “I will be happy to keep providing flowers for Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. I p
resume you will also continue weddings and other events there as well?” Brenda nodded and reassured her things would proceed as they always had, having been briefed by Carrie on her second day about how such special events could be counted on to provide extra income. Jenny smiled to hear this news, then changed the subject and directed her next remarks to Phyllis and Carrie.

  “I suppose you heard about the Swansons. As usual, Lady Pendleton seems bent on making everyone’s lives miserable.” They all nodded. “I hear she is greedier than ever,” Jenny confided. “I don’t know how she expects people to keep up. She just raised rents on all the shops on Main Street. I wish just a drop of human kindness would enter into her heart...” As she said this, she looked down, evidently no longer trading in light gossip.

  Brenda was not surprised to discover that the blonde, energetic owner of Jenny’s Blossoms knew as much gossip as Pete Graham. But she was surprised to learn that under the surface of this everyday gossip lurked a much darker, sadder reality for the shopkeeper.

  “It’s not just the rents, though. Did you hear she won that big court battle last week and has already introduced another one?” Tears sprang to Jenny’s eyes. “Now she has filed a suit against me. She claims the backed-up plumbing in here is my fault and she’s suing me for the cost to fix it.” Phyllis reached for Jenny’s hand and Carrie made a sound of distress as she put her arm around their friend’s shoulders to comfort her.

  Jenny looked up at Brenda. “Oh dear, I didn’t want to ruin your welcome, Brenda, but this is just too much. This is my busy season. We have events and parties and tourists all over the place but I have fixed expenses, and you can’t squeeze blood from a stone. I simply can’t keep up with the higher rent and also pay for this plumbing fiasco. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Carrie here was just asking Pete this morning why he can’t ask his father to do something about her. Edward Graham should take responsibility for Lady Pendleton if she’s going to prey on the whole town,” said Phyllis. Carrie nodded as she hugged Jenny. “Something ought to be done to stop her and that’s all there is to it.”

  Brenda watched Phyllis set her mouth in a firm line as she said this, but the older woman’s eyes drifted to the window as if she lacked the conviction of her strong words.

  “I may be new to town, but in just a few short days it seems like she’s all I’ve heard about. It’s sad this beautiful place has such a dark shadow hanging over it,” said Brenda.

  With a few last hugs and reassurances, they said their goodbyes to Jenny and reassured her the whole town was on her side. “The town needs to get together and figure something out,” said Phyllis.

  When they exited the shop into the bright sunshine, Brenda felt the tingle of exhaustion in her brain. She realized Sweetfern Harbor did not need a newspaper. In fact, when it came to local news, no one needed the internet, or the local news channels either.

  “Jenny may be a little excitable, but this is beyond all reason. I don’t know how Lady Pendleton could think a sweet girl like her is at fault for the rotten old plumbing in that building,” said Phyllis as they walked back along Main Street. “You know, Jenny spent a lot of time at our house in the past. She and my Molly are best friends, along with Hope from the bakery. Of course, that was in my old house. I lost my home and my little business that I used to run, thanks to Lady Pendleton. Thankfully, your uncle hired me when he found out what happened. He had that empty attached apartment behind the main part of the bed and breakfast so he let me live there. It comes with the job. I don’t know what I would have done without Randolph.”

  Phyllis sighed, and Brenda caught a glimpse of Carrie’s sorrowful face as she listened to this—no doubt—familiar story. “I loved my shop. Molly tested out her first business idea when she opened a corner of it for coffee. I filled the place with beads and bobbles, as they say. I held classes for anyone who wanted to come in and make their own jewelry. Until she raised the rent just high enough that I couldn’t afford it. She sent me a letter offering to buy my house, saying I could rent the crummy little apartment above the shop instead. I thought with the money from the sale of the house I could make it work, but then wouldn’t you know those rents just crept up and up and up until I lost everything. That’s when your uncle stepped in.” Her shoulders sagged. “I can’t keep crying over spilled milk, can I?” She turned to reassure Brenda. “But you must know I love working at Sheffield Bed and Breakfast so don’t think I’ll be leaving you any time soon.”

  Brenda squeezed Phyllis’s hand in thanks. The more she learned about her uncle’s legacy in Sweetfern Harbor, the more she wondered how the townspeople would fare in his absence. Who else would stand up to the powerful yet unseen Lady Pendleton who belittled the townspeople with such ease?

  As their steps brought them to the end of Main Street, all heads suddenly turned toward a sleek black Cadillac. A woman with dark red hair framing a pair of sharp emerald eyes steered the Cadillac down the street. She threw one disdainful glance out the window. She had a narrow, upturned nose and thin lips with lipstick as red as her hair. As she drove past, she rested her eyes briefly on Phyllis Lindsey.

  “I take it that is Lady Pendleton,” said Brenda, as Phyllis picked up her pace without a word.

  “The one and only,” said Carrie, as they hurried to catch up to the housekeeper.

  Later that afternoon, Brenda was in her sitting room preparing for her meeting with the banker whom her late Uncle Randolph had retained for years. The appointment was set for the next morning. Having inherited Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, she was thankful she didn’t have to worry about being run off the premises by Lady Pendleton, but she was perplexed at the reasoning behind the woman’s ongoing actions against the townspeople.

  Brenda had not spoken to Edward Graham since finalizing the ownership deed to Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, and as she gathered her thoughts, she wondered about the man and how he dealt with Sweetfern Harbor. She had found him to be professional and knowledgeable and his son Pete seemed universally liked in town. How did he manage to work with Lady Pendleton, who held such animosity toward everyone around her?

  That evening when dessert was served in the sitting room for guests, Brenda pulled Phyllis aside. “Does Edward Graham have a dual personality?”

  Phyllis laughed, setting down a lemon chiffon pie and a tray of miniature blueberry tarts. “If you mean, does he act one way around the rest of us and another way around Lady Pendleton, the answer is yes, he does. I feel sorry for Edward. He’s caught in a bad place. Everyone tries to excuse him because he has to make a living, but at the same time, we all wish he would put his efforts on the side of the townspeople. She’s a tyrant and she seems to control him as much as she does everyone else.”

  Phyllis excused herself to tidy up the dining room, and Brenda took a seat on an overstuffed armchair by the window. As she quietly watched the guests mingle over dessert, she made up her mind. Phyllis’s words were all Brenda needed for now. Once she completed her meeting with the banker, she would stop at Edward Graham’s office. Perhaps, as a newcomer, she could get some answers from him that would help her new friends.

  When Brenda came down from her apartment the next morning, brilliant sunbeams scattered light prettily down the wide stairway and through the open rooms of the first floor of the bed and breakfast. As tempting as the breakfasts were in her new home, she was determined not to be late for her meeting with the banker. She had made herself a quick cup of tea in her kitchenette and promised herself she would stop by the kitchen later to ask for a bite to eat if she became too hungry.

  Just as she was leaving, she ran into Pete Graham in the hallway of the bed and breakfast. “Good morning, Brenda,” he said, holding a white envelope in his hand.

  “Hi, Pete. I don’t see Carrie around right now,” said Brenda, reaching out to take the letter from him, “but I’ll put it on her desk.”

  Pete jerked his hand back and then gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have
instructions to give it directly to Phyllis. I hope you don’t mind, but it is for her personally.”

  “I understand,” said Brenda. “I think you’ll find her in the dining room clearing the table.” Brenda walked out the door, eager to get to her meeting. She thought that perhaps Pete’s quirky behavior was another part of this village that she was growing to love more and more each day.

  It took an hour to go over everything with the banker, and Brenda left satisfied. She headed for Edward Graham’s office, walking along Main Street. In the gentle morning breeze of Sweetfern Harbor, tourists stepped out of Morning Sun with coffees in hand, or sat in benches placed along the sidewalk to enjoy the cool ocean breeze.

  She turned the corner onto a side street, where the lawyer’s office was located. Edward Graham had chosen a regal, old red-brick building for his law practice. Brenda admired its stately lines and old-fashioned elegance, and tried to picture Lady Pendleton’s sleek Cadillac driving up to the curb.

  The receptionist stated that Mr. Graham was in a meeting and invited Brenda to sit down and wait for him. She offered Brenda some coffee, but she declined, focused on her task. From her seat in the reception area, voices rose and became suddenly audible through Edward’s office door.

  She tried not to listen but recognized Pete’s voice as he practically shouted, “I don’t know how you can continue to represent someone as crooked as she is.”

  Though Edward’s voice was softer, it was clear. “I have my own expenses, Pete. I’m mortgaged to the hilt, and if I fall behind she’ll snap up the deed from the bank. My hands are tied. And you know I’m doing my best to stop her from going to a big-city lawyer who might let her wreak more havoc than she is already doing.”

 

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