“Pete, what do you make of this? Why are they going after Jenny? Everyone threatened to do something about Lady Pendleton. Idle threats don’t make her guilty of murder.” Phyllis’s eyes lit with an indignant anger rarely seen in the housekeeper. “I’m surprised at you, Pete Graham, for passing judgment on Jenny like that. You shouldn’t spread these kinds of rumors when there’s an investigation going on,” she finished, her motherly brows knit in a stern reprimand.
“I’m just telling you what’s going around. I’m sorry. I know she is a good friend of yours and I didn’t mean anything by it.” He looked from Phyllis to Molly to Brenda, as if searching for a sympathetic face.
Brenda couldn’t meet his eyes and just listened. “Stop that rumor right here, Pete. The town doesn’t need to start turning against one another,” said Molly firmly, patting her mother’s arm to calm her.
Pete flushed to hear these words from his girlfriend. “I—Molly…I’ll—” he seemed lost for words for a moment as he searched her face and read the anguish written there as she comforted her mother. “I’ll do better,” he said finally, duly ashamed and agreeing to squelch the rumor.
William Pendleton quickened his steps across the marble floors of the ornate house, feeling a new sense of purpose. After the initial shock of his conversation with Detective Rivers had worn off, he had awoken the next day to find himself energetic and, for the first time, the master of his own domain.
He had quickly settled on the necessary details—after the body was released by the coroner, there would be no formal funeral or memorial, simply cremation and an unadorned urn in the family mausoleum. The cremation services director had inquired about placing an obituary in the newspaper, and after a moment’s thought, William had simply declined. Then it would be finished.
The peaceful quiet in the house was a balm to him. No arrogant voice ringing out as she berated the staff. No incessant clicking of heels along the marble hallway as she stalked up and down on one of her tirades.
As he walked toward the kitchen, he found his lips curving in a smile. No longer would he have to live under the thumb of his dismal wife and hide his true love, Phyllis Lindsey. Pete Graham, long paid handsomely for his discretion, would no longer be necessary.
For the first time in a long time William Pendleton breathed deeply. In the kitchen, he found John, the longtime butler to the Pendleton house, reviewing some papers with the chef.
“John,” he said, with an easy smile. “I think I’d like my old chair brought up from the basement storage room. It was…unfairly sent down there some years ago on the orders of Mrs. Pendleton. I think you remember the one?”
“The brown leather easy chair, sir?”
“Precisely. I know right where I want it to go,” he said, and knew exactly the cigar he wanted to retrieve from his humidor to celebrate this wonderful day.
That night, after Morning Sun Coffee’s last customer had left, Molly Lindsey and Logan Tucker wiped the tables and then sat down to enjoy sandwiches and iced tea. The day had been a busy one. It seemed to be not just tourists in town, but people who had come to gawk and gossip about Sweetfern Harbor’s crime of the century.
“I’m glad she isn’t around to harass any of us any longer,” said Molly. “Most of all, I’m happy not to have to pay an arm and a leg to import those special coffee beans she demanded.”
“Yeah,” said Logan, taking a long sip of his iced tea. “I hated it when she came in here. She never failed to put me down every chance she got.” Molly raised her eyebrows to hear this. “The last time she came in here, she implied I was a failure for working here instead of doing ‘something better’ with my life. I don’t know what she was getting at. I like working here and you pay me enough so I can take Carrie out every Saturday night.” He grinned at his boss. “I’m glad the wicked witch is dead. Poison is fitting since she spent her life poisoning every one of us.”
Molly noted that behind his humor, a flash of anger crossed Logan’s face. They finished their sandwiches in comfortable silence until Logan stood up and stretched.
“I’ll lock up, Logan, you go home and get some rest,” said Molly.
Logan couldn’t stop the yawn that overcame him. “Thanks, boss. Have a good night.”
Carrie Martin went into the bed and breakfast office and sat down to answer emails with dates of availability. Her mind wandered as she automatically typed and answered the queries, thinking back to Randolph Sheffield and how many times he had tried to meet with Lady Pendleton privately to reason with her on behalf of the townspeople. It was to no avail, but Mr. Sheffield had never given up the cause, as busy as he was.
“All the money in the world won’t cure her bitter heart,” he had said sadly upon his return from one of these attempts. “She is coldhearted and that’s all there is to it.”
At one time, Mr. Sheffield had even tried a different approach, offering to buy some land from Lady Pendleton at a premium, hoping that the families who lived in the houses there could enjoy peace and reasonable rents if he was the owner. Lady Pendleton had refused to even consider his offer.
Rebuffed in his real estate offer and witnessing how her greed threatened Sweetfern Harbor, Mr. Sheffield had found other ways to work his will. He helped Holly Williams get the funding to start her bakery so she could be the supplier to his bed and breakfast, and Jenny Rivers had started out her florist business with a handshake agreement from the older gentleman promising her a steady stream of business supplying lavish floral arrangements for the events at his establishment. He had touched nearly every shopkeeper or business in town, making the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast the instrument of his benevolence when he couldn’t fix the problem of Lady Pendleton directly.
Pressing send on the last email in the batch, Carrie swiveled around in her chair and smiled. At last, Randolph, she said to herself, Lady Pendleton has her final reward. If only you could see!
Carrie heard Brenda coming down the stairs. She liked her new boss but no one could ever replace Randolph Sheffield. Luckily, the community of friendly, close-knit families and businesses in Sweetfern Harbor would outlast any boss. That was Mr. Sheffield’s true legacy.
Brenda waved to Carrie from the doorway.
“It’s been a busy day, Carrie,” said Brenda, reaching for the phone on the desk and dialing Mac Rivers. “Detective? It’s me, Brenda.” Carrie was surprised to see her boss’s cheeks turn a very pretty shade of pink as she arranged to meet the detective at the police station that afternoon.
Brenda hung up the phone and turned to leave. “I’ll be back later. Don’t forget to take that deposit to the bank,” she reminded Carrie.
“Don’t worry, Brenda. You take all the time with Detective Rivers that you need,” Carrie replied a little cheekily.
From where she sat, she watched Brenda walk into the hall and stop at the hallway mirror to smooth her hair into place. She couldn’t help but notice that the blush did not fade from Brenda’s cheeks as she turned to go and stepped out into the brilliant summer light.
Chapter Five
A Roster of Suspects
When Brenda arrived at the detective’s office promptly at three that afternoon, Mac Rivers greeted her with a warm smile. “Come in, have a seat,” he said, offering her a chair. “As you can see, we’re just getting started,” he said and gestured to the mess of paper and files covering his desk.
“I’m happy to help, Detective,” replied Brenda, looking around at the various lists and pictures that he had pinned up behind his desk. There was a map of the town there.
“I have tried to retrace Lady Pendleton’s activities the day of her death,” said Mac, looking up at the map and gesturing to the pins and markings all over it. “The coroner’s report confirmed that she ingested a poisonous substance, so we are still following every lead about where she might have eaten or drunk.”
He turned back to face Brenda and ran a hand through his hair as he flipped through a file. “We’re looking into her hu
sband’s activities that day, too.”
“I called you because I learned something from Phyllis that you need to know. Lady Pendleton had her suspicions about William’s secret relationship,” said Brenda. “Everyone knew theirs wasn’t a happy marriage, but I guess her suspicions drove her out of her mind. She ranted and raved at him but had no proof. William lost his cool for the first time, according to Phyllis. And in a big way.” Mac’s eyes bore deeply into Brenda’s as he listened. “Only then would she leave William alone. I’m not sure if William isn’t a man of surprising depths—not just love but perhaps hatred as well.”
“Well, that fits with my pieces of the puzzle. William didn’t say anything about that fight, but he said she snatched a letter out of Pete Graham’s hands that morning. According to William,” said Mac, scanning a witness statement in his hands, “she read the letter and stalked to her car with it still in her hand. William wasn’t very forthcoming about its contents but we now know it was a love letter to Phyllis. She sped from the driveway at a murderous speed, according to William, and Pete said the same in a separate interview.”
“So she was coming to confront Phyllis,” finished Brenda. “Maybe she would have killed William in a rage afterward, too, if the poison hadn’t stopped her first. When did she ingest it?”
“He’s not sure whether it was a one-time dose, or over a longer period of time. I’m dismissing William as a suspect. Things were normal between them, except for that fight and the letter Lady Pendleton took from Pete. It was an ordinary day and he had no idea she was going to threaten Phyllis like that.” Mac folded his arms on the desk and shifted forward. “I’m sure William did not poison his wife. He never cooked for her. There is a chef in the house who has been with them for the past twenty years. I interviewed the chef, too, and he’s clear. So is the rest of their staff. We searched the Pendleton home and did not find any poison, or traces of poison.”
There was a moment as they both contemplated this.
“I heard your daughter has become a prime suspect,” said Brenda carefully. She watched Mac’s expression closely. He closed his eyes tightly.
“Jenny met with Lady Pendleton in the flower shop the day before her death. Jenny had the usual rent check ready for her. But it wasn’t enough because, without any warning, Lady Pendleton told her she had to pay for a complete redo of the shop’s plumbing or else she would file a lawsuit. She said because Jenny had caused the plumbing problems—who knows if that’s the truth but I doubt it—she’d broken the lease and so she was increasing the rent, too. Jenny was devastated and tried to stand up to her. You can’t just spring a demand like that on someone, she didn’t have more money to give her.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Lady Pendleton then demanded an expensive bouquet and said that would take care of the increase this month, but she expected to be paid in full the next month. And she said to expect the lawsuit over the plumbing costs immediately.”
“That all sounds sad, but it doesn’t make Jenny sound guilty. Why is she a prime suspect?”
“She was so mad about it all that she told her best friends Molly Lindsey and Holly Williams what happened. She also closed her shop and stormed over to Edward Graham’s office. She demanded he do something about his client or she would do something drastic. Of course, she didn’t mean anything by it, but Edward probably mentioned the encounter to his son Pete, and we all know telling Pete Graham anything means it’s public knowledge.” He wiped his brow again.
“How are you holding up, Detective?” Brenda’s brow was furrowed and Mac cast her a sudden, grateful look.
“Chief Ingram told me this morning that there will be more scrutiny of Jenny but for me not to interview her since she is my daughter.” His shoulders slumped. “I know Jenny would never do something like that, no matter how frustrated she was with Lady Pendleton. The chief and I have been best friends over the years. He has never let my family down, especially after my wife’s death. He’s been like a second father to Jenny.”
“Don’t worry, Mac. I know Jenny’s friends will back her up. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Brenda was determined that this case would not tear apart Sweetfern Harbor and especially not Detective Rivers’ life. Jenny’s father had been a widower so young and had known enough tragedy for one lifetime. They promised to keep in touch in case any new information surfaced that he needed help with.
A few days later, Brenda answered the phone to Mac’s joyful greeting. “They cleared her. They are not going to file any charges against Jenny.” His voice filled with relief. “Bob Ingram just gave me the good news and I had to let you know. You were right, Molly and Hope insisted she was just blowing off steam. The chief questioned Edward Graham and he agreed Jenny was frustrated and just had to take it out on someone. He happened to be the one she chose since he was Lady Pendleton’s lawyer. No one found anything substantive against Jenny.”
After ending the call with Mac, she dialed Edward Graham and asked if he had time to see her for a few minutes. His voice had an unusual lilt to it and he agreed to see her in half an hour. When Brenda opened the door to the waiting room at Edward’s office, she heard laughter coming from his office. She recognized the voice of his receptionist.
“I have to tell you, Tracy, I never expected to live long enough to see Lady Pendleton dead. It all looked too easy.” Tracy agreed and then went out into the waiting room where she saw Brenda getting ready to sit down.
“I’m sure Edward will see you now,” she said.
Brenda wondered what happened to Mr. Graham. She had never heard Tracy refer to him by his first name. It seemed that everyone had become more relaxed in the days since Lady Pendleton’s death. Surely there is one person who is sorry to see her go, she thought. No one came to mind. She went into Edward’s office. He greeted her with a wide smile.
“Come on in, Brenda, I’m just wrapping up the many lawsuits Lady Pendleton filed against everyone.”
“I guess William will take them over?” she asked.
The hearty laughter startled her. “William has no intentions of pressing charges against anyone in Sweetfern Harbor. I’ll meet with the judge and William, and go from there. I don’t see anyone going to court over any of it.”
Brenda went into her sleuth mode. “Did you tell Detective Rivers you were supposed to meet with Lady Pendleton the morning of her death?”
His face grew serious. He moved to clasp his hands on the desk. “Yes, I had to be in court and couldn’t meet with her. She understood I couldn’t always keep appointments with her since there are times court calls. It didn’t happen often. She could tolerate only so much of anyone not obeying her at the snap of her fingers.” He displayed a lopsided grin and then grew serious again. “Why do you ask?”
“Mac asked me to assist in a minor way with the case. I had a little experience back in Michigan.” Edward had already heard the bed and breakfast owner had been an assistant to a private investigator. He shifted in the chair and repeated his story about being in court. “I looked at the court docket for that day,” said Brenda. “The case you were in court for was the first one that came up and within a few minutes it was dismissed. Where did you go after you left the courthouse?”
“I came back here to my office. Lady Pendleton and I had already rescheduled so I didn’t bother to tell her I had more free time than expected. I didn’t see her at all that day.”
“Did you see other clients when you returned? And I suppose Tracy was here to verify you came back here.”
Edward’s face hardened slightly, realizing that Brenda was questioning his story. “Actually, Tracy had to take her mother for tests at the hospital. She was not here that day.” He pulled out a notepad and wrote down three names. “These are the clients I saw that morning. One had not gotten the message I wouldn’t be in and caught me by chance. I called the other two to let them know I had time to see them that morning.”
Brenda smiled. “I’ll give these names to M
ac. I hope you understand that everyone around town is being grilled by me or by Mac.” She stood and shook his hand. His cheerful demeanor returned.
“I do understand. I suppose it’s still a shock to know she is dead and we’re all trying to find our way in a new normal.”
On the way back to Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, Brenda thought about Edward Graham. She was sure Mac would dismiss him as a suspect once she reported her findings. Besides, the lawyer depended on Lady Pendleton’s fees which said he wouldn’t want her dead, and it was clear he wouldn’t lose any business since William Pendleton had retained him to work on the property deeds.
Driving down Main Street, Brenda tried to recapture the feelings she had the first day she came into town. This time she parked in front of Morning Sun Coffee and went inside. A few customers sat chatting at the tables and in the armchairs with their beverages. Logan delivered a plate of finger sandwiches to a couple with two children. He waved at Brenda.
“Do you want your usual, Brenda?”
“Today, I want a double latté. And ask Molly if she has any blueberry bread left, please.” A couple of minutes later, he set the steaming cup in front of her. “When do you get a break?” she asked Logan.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly curious, and glanced at the clock on the wall. “In about five minutes I’ll finish up. I’ll join you then if you want.” He was still busy and left her to finish her latté in peace.
Brenda savored her hot beverage and felt the caffeine begin to perk her up. Molly came over to greet her and sat down. She set a small plate of blueberry bread in front of Brenda, who eagerly took a bite of the delicious summer specialty.
She knew she only had a few minutes with Molly before Logan returned, so she got down to business. “Molly, were you here at the shop the day Lady Pendleton died?”
Posies and Poison (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 1) Page 5