Posies and Poison (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 1)

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Posies and Poison (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 1) Page 3

by Wendy Meadows


  It was then Brenda noticed the door was not completely closed. The receptionist noticed it at the same time and quietly got up and closed it tightly. When Pete came out, his face was flushed and he clenched his hands in despair. He nodded tersely at Brenda and left without a word.

  By the time Brenda was ushered inside Edward’s office, he appeared unruffled. Despite his calm exterior, she felt sorry for the man and didn’t want to burden him after his difficult conversation with his son. “Mr. Graham, I just wanted to thank you in person for your help.”

  This would take more thinking on the subject, she thought. Edward had answered his son’s accusations and Brenda felt sure she would get the same answers. Her earlier confidence evaporated. It would not be so simple after all to find a quick solution for her Sweetfern Harbor friends.

  “I hope things are going well for you, Brenda,” said Edward. “Is there anything else I can do for you in regard to Sheffield Bed and Breakfast?”

  “Things are running smoothly,” Brenda said, working to keep her smile confident. “Uncle Randolph knew what he was doing when he hired the staff and the financial records are in order. It’s been a while since we spoke so I simply wanted to thank you again for your help. I’ll leave you now. I’m sure you have plenty of work to do and I should be getting back.”

  He stood and shook her hand. His smile was pleasant but when Brenda closed the door behind her she noticed his furrowed brow as he peered over papers on his desk.

  Chapter Three

  A Scathing July

  As the hugely popular July boat race approached, Sweetfern Harbor burst into a frenzy of preparation and everyone in town seemed grateful for the distraction from the latest financial troubles. The annual event had grown each year, and this year it seemed that the town overflowed with teams of contestants and spectators crowding the sidewalks and parks.

  The Sheffield Bed and Breakfast was filled to capacity, and Brenda was kept busy planning an evening cocktail reception for her guests. After the mayor announced the winner, the oceanfront lawn of the Sheffield would be an ideal location to sip cool drinks and watch the fireworks bursting over the harbor.

  At Morning Sun Coffee, amidst the bustle of customers, Molly was instructing Logan Tucker to be on time every morning for the next week. “I need you every minute,” said Molly. “By the way, Lady Pendleton is coming to pick up her weekly batch of custom-roasted coffee. I’ll get it ready but if I’m not here make sure she gets it.”

  Logan grinned and nodded. “I remember race week last year, Molly. You can count on me. I’ll even make her drink exactly as she likes it.” Lady Pendleton always ordered a cappuccino when she came to pick up her weekly order, and had been known to demand a replacement if it did not meet her standards. Molly had to smile. Logan’s boyish mannerisms drew customers in, though it seemed to have no real effect on Lady Pendleton.

  Molly thought back to an incident she had witnessed just the previous week. William Pendleton always dutifully followed his wife into the coffee shop. He had started to hand Molly a tip as she passed him his wife’s packaged order.

  “What are you thinking, William?” said his wife with an accusing look. “You’re too soft. Tips should be earned for real service.”

  Molly was chagrined to hear this. William’s eyes held sympathy for Molly but he did as his wife told him and stuffed the folded bills back into his pants pocket. Molly gave William a sympathetic shrug. He picked up the packaged coffee beans and followed his wife out.

  Thinking back to Lady Pendleton’s dismissive manner, Molly could only cross her fingers that Logan’s charm would hold out for the day. The shop was so busy she would barely have time to think, let alone supervise Logan when the Pendletons came in.

  Crowds swarmed the town and excitement grew to a high pitch as the race was due to begin. Everyone headed down to the beach with binoculars. The more elite spectators were watching from inside an air-conditioned building on the waterfront with massive glass windows that looked out over the harbor. Box seats filled and everyone there had a spectacular view of the water. Brenda watched the race from the lawn with her guests and the staff of the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, with a newfound appreciation for how beautiful her new town could be when it put on a show for visitors.

  At the cocktail reception that evening, Brenda was pleased to see how beautiful the Sheffield looked in the pale July twilight. On the lawn there were clusters of guests and townspeople who had dropped by to celebrate, and everyone raved about the sparkling pink lemonade Phyllis made especially for the party.

  Brenda stopped at the refreshments table set under the rose arbor to breathe in the perfume of a gorgeous arrangement of blooms that Jenny Rivers had provided for the party. Little lights twinkled from the trees and the effect was breathtaking.

  Phyllis walked up and smiled at her, holding out a tempting platter of treats.

  “Oh, Phyllis. Everything looks perfect.”

  Her housekeeper nodded with satisfaction. “This is Sheffield House in all her glory! I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  They each nibbled on the small tea cakes from Sweet Treats Bakery until finally Brenda laughed, saying, “Phyllis, I’m going to have to sit on my hands or I will eat them all!” After some well-earned levity, Brenda could see that despite her mirth, there was a sadness lingering around Phyllis, and she pleaded with her housekeeper to unburden herself.

  “It’s Jenny Rivers, I just can’t stop thinking about her. She is getting desperate. She can’t afford to lose her florist shop. She is young and just starting out in life.”

  Brenda nodded in sympathy. “I wish I could just give her the money the way my uncle would have, once upon a time, but the Sheffield fortune isn’t what it used to be, as wonderful as this place is. But perhaps…I do have an idea that might help her. Is she still here tonight? Maybe you can send her my way if you see her.”

  “That is a splendid idea, Brenda. I’ll get right on that.”

  It wasn’t long before Jenny Rivers sought Brenda out, with a curious look in her eyes. Brenda was pleased to finally pass along her advice. “Jenny, I know this lawsuit is hanging over your head. But I’ve heard that if a law firm thinks you have a good case, they might even help you sue Lady Pendleton without you having to pay a cent. The lawyer’s fee would just come out of whatever money you get in the settlement.”

  “I can’t believe my ears. That would be the answer to my prayers! Thank you, Brenda. I’m so touched that you thought of me and the trouble with my little flower shop.” She smiled in gratitude, and Brenda was satisfied to finally give back to this wonderful little town that had won her over. But Jenny wasn’t done. “By the way, did you know that my dad is a detective like you? You’d have a lot in common with him. And he’s single.” Brenda stared at her.

  Jenny dimpled and pointed discreetly to a tall man standing near the refreshments table, some distance away from where the two women stood. “That’s him. Mac, my dad. He’s been widowed a long time. My mother passed away ten years ago and he never remarried.”

  Brenda struggled to gather her thoughts. “First of all, thank you for the offer, but I was not a detective per se. I take it he’s with the police force here?”

  Jenny nodded her head. She liked Brenda Sheffield and knew her father was lonely when not in the middle of a case. “I know you worked some crime cases, Brenda,” said Jenny. “I heard you were good at what you did.”

  Brenda laughed. “My boss never gave me a lot of credit, but I did help solve a few of his cases. I liked delving into crime cases. I’m sure your dad is a great person, but I’m just not interested in meeting anyone right now.”

  “I didn’t say you had to marry him,” Jenny teased back. “He would be someone to hang out with and share interests.”

  Brenda blushed. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, do you have a good law firm in mind?”

  “I asked my dad about that. He is making inquiries for me. Thank you again for your help.
” As the two women made chitchat, Brenda was relieved to have steered the conversation away from her romantic prospects. She couldn’t help but notice Mac Rivers look her way once or twice, but she had to admit it was hard to pay attention to anything but the brilliant display of fireworks bursting over the harbor as the night came to a splendid conclusion.

  Sweetfern Harbor finally settled back into its normal summer routine once the boat race gala was over. Brenda felt more and more at ease in her new career. She loved meeting new people and chatting with her guests. All had fascinating stories to tell and she hung on to their every word. As the last guests from the boat race checked out, Sheffield House was shined and polished until it gleamed, every member of the staff working their hardest to get ready for the new guests that would arrive soon.

  “I’m going to cut some flowers for my room,” said Brenda, heading out to the front garden with a pair of shears and her gardening gloves. She had never been much of a green thumb but since the groundskeeper took care of the details, she enjoyed wandering amidst the roses, peonies, and irises planted in the garden of the grand mansion. She liked nothing better than to wake up each morning to the scent of the ocean breeze and a fresh-picked bouquet from her own garden.

  Just as she bent to cut a deep fuchsia peony, she heard the screeching sound of tires taking a corner too fast. It was such an unaccustomed sound for the small, sedate town that at first, she couldn’t believe her ears. She watched an unmistakable sleek Cadillac tearing up the road toward the bed and breakfast.

  To date, Lady Pendleton had not visited Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. She wondered why the arrogant redheaded woman raced so recklessly toward her establishment today, of all days. The Cadillac’s brakes slammed on with a squeal and the car’s front left wheel landed on the curb in front of the house. The ignition went quiet. Brenda waited for Lady Pendleton to emerge but nothing happened.

  “I may as well get this meeting over with,” Brenda sighed to no one in particular.

  She walked down the steps from the garden to the sidewalk to investigate, but when she came within view of the luxury car, she stepped back quickly. This was no social call.

  Lady Pendleton was bent over the steering wheel in the driver’s seat at a strange angle. Her red hair, pulled back in a taut chignon, glimmered dully in the sunlight that shone through the open window.

  “Lady Pendleton, are you all right?” asked Brenda in alarm. There was no answer. Brenda shook her thin shoulder to rouse her. “Are you ill?” When Lady Pendleton still did not respond, Brenda realized she was unconscious. Her heart beating fast with suppressed panic, she reached for the cell phone in her pocket and dialed 911.

  Within minutes, sirens could be heard heading toward Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. The ambulance was first to arrive, followed by a squad car. Brenda stood back and watched as two paramedics wheeled a gurney over to the car and quickly worked to extract the limp form. The street and sidewalk in front of the Sheffield was quickly swarming with people as several other emergency vehicles quickly surrounded the scene. Brenda could clearly see Lady Pendleton’s motionless chest as the paramedics applied an oxygen mask and started performing CPR. When a white van drove up and several people climbed out in uniform jackets labeled “County Coroner,” Brenda’s suspicions were sadly confirmed. The paramedics pronounced the town’s affluent tyrant dead at the scene.

  By this time, cordons had been placed to block the cars and people coming up from Main Street. Later, Brenda learned that shop owners locked up and hurried to the scene. It was as if everyone had to see for themselves that the most despised member of Sweetfern Harbor was truly dead. There was a stir as the crowd parted and the police let Dr. Thomas Windham through. Brenda watched as he examined Lady Pendleton, seemed to shake his head sadly, and then sign some paperwork for the County Coroner’s office. A murmur went through the crowd as tourists and Sweetfern Harbor residents alike watched as the body was zipped into a bag and carefully loaded into the county van.

  In all the commotion, Brenda had hardly noticed Phyllis and Carrie, who had come to stand with her in mutual shock and support. They watched as a younger officer strung yellow caution tape around the scene and another started to order the crowd of onlookers to disperse.

  Brenda could see Detective Rivers kneeling by the open door of the Cadillac as he inspected its interior. He was standing right where she had been standing when she had seen Lady Pendleton’s strangely crumpled form—she shook her head to clear her mind of the horrible memory.

  “This has to be Mac Rivers’s biggest case ever,” said Carrie. “I wonder what caused her death. It wasn’t a crash, she just stopped right there at the curb, right Brenda?”

  Brenda nodded. “I wonder why she was driving like a maniac,” said Brenda. “I thought she was going to keep going right onto the lawn and into the garden. Maybe she had a heart attack or a stroke and couldn’t control the car,” Brenda mused.

  Detective Rivers was conferring with one of the paramedics who pointed toward Brenda. The detective nodded and walked over to her. He introduced himself and asked if she was the one who discovered Lady Pendleton slumped over the steering wheel.

  As strange as the situation was, Brenda could barely answer, “Yes” to his inquiry. She was mesmerized by his good looks and stunned to be meeting him face to face like this. I should have said hello at the cocktail reception, she thought.

  He appeared to be in his early forties or so and his thick blond hair lifted slightly in the light wind. Brenda realized he had asked her something but she had no idea what.

  “I’m sorry,” she said helplessly. “What did you say?”

  “I said I’d like to speak to you privately in a few minutes. Are you willing to give me a statement with more details?”

  Brenda felt her cheeks warm up. “I’m available whenever you are.” She bit her tongue as she heard the double meaning in her words too late to take it back. What was wrong with her? His looks and his strong, assured confidence were completely disarming her. She noted a slight curve to his mouth when he saw her blush and she looked down, flustered. Messages were being sent and received that had nothing to do with the dead Lady Pendleton.

  Sometime later, she waited in the library of the bed and breakfast, trying and failing to contain her boredom. She had been told it might be a while before the detective was free to meet with her, since documenting and clearing away the crime scene could take several hours. The library was a beautifully wood-paneled room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stocked with her late uncle’s collection of leather-bound classics as well as an excellent selection of contemporary novels. She had picked up a book that looked promising enough, but instead found herself staring out the window thinking back to Detective Rivers and his sly grin.

  A knock at the library doors startled her out of her thoughts. It was Carrie, finally bringing the news that he was ready to talk with her. When the detective came in, she offered him a seat in one of the tufted leather armchairs, then turned to close the doors for privacy. With her back turned momentarily, she willed herself not to say anything silly.

  She sat down across from him as he took out a notebook and pencil.

  “Tell me everything you noticed, in detail,” he said.

  She took a breath. “I was in the garden when I heard her tires squealing. At first, I couldn’t figure out why she was driving in such a crazy way. I suppose she didn’t realize it. At least, she braked and turned the ignition off rather than crashing.” Brenda continued with the scant details of what she had seen before the paramedics had arrived. “Do you know how she died, Detective Rivers?”

  “Please, call me Mac,” he said with a polite but warm smile. “Everyone else in town does. It is too early to determine cause of death, but her husband agreed right away to an autopsy. We should have results soon. She’s a little young for a heart attack, according to Dr. Windham. Of course, that is just his first impression.” He shifted in the chair. “How do you like our little village?�
��

  “I have been surprised at how friendly everyone has been. I am happy here and am getting the hang of running a bed and breakfast, which I love. I’ve met your daughter, Jenny. She is lovely and so friendly. I love her flower shop—she did some amazing arrangements for the cocktail party we had in July.”

  “I’m proud of the way she has lived her life. It was hard when her mother passed away, Jenny was so young then. But we’ve both had to move forward.” He stood to go. “I’ll probably have more questions for you as they come up. Jenny told me you worked with a private investigator back in Michigan? She said you solved cases. I may need to call on you for some insight if you don’t mind.”

  Brenda smiled, trying not to blush again in embarrassment. “I’ve tried to tell people I was an assistant to the PI. I did help him break a few cases and found it all very intriguing. I admit...I’ve always wanted to get into the business, myself.” She tried to sound nonchalant as he gave her an appraising, intrigued look. “This is probably Sweetfern Harbor’s biggest case, isn’t it?”

  He chuckled. “By far. Brenda, thank you for your statement. I’ve got to get back to the station now, but I’ll be in touch, he said, standing to go.

  “Anytime,” Brenda said, hoping she didn’t sound too eager. She showed the detective to the front door of Sheffield Bed and Breakfast.

  Phyllis hurried over to Brenda as she closed the front door. “What does he think happened? Everyone is so happy she is dead and gone.” Phyllis’s hand flew to her mouth. “I guess I shouldn’t say that, but it is hard to feel bad about her death.”

  “They don’t know anything yet,” said Brenda, watching Mac through the window as he climbed into his car and drove away. “But don’t apologize for saying it. She won’t be missed, after all.”

 

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