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Posies and Poison (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 1)

Page 6

by Wendy Meadows

“I was. I ran up to take a look but by the time I got there, the crowd was too big already. So I headed back here and waited for news the rest of that morning. Later I did run to the post office and on my way back stopped to chat briefly with Jenny at Blossoms and said hi to Hope at her shop. By then they weren’t letting anyone near the crime scene anymore.”

  “What about the day before? Isn’t Thursday the day the Pendletons usually came in?”

  Molly leaned back and thought for a few seconds. “Actually, I was in and out most of that afternoon. I left instructions with Logan to make sure Lady Pendleton got her package of coffee. We have to import it special and then roast it to get the right flavor. She always wanted it perfectly sealed up. She was particular that way.”

  Brenda was curious to learn that Logan had manned the shop solo while Molly was gone. “She probably had the usual while she was here. Same thing every time,” she said. “It was always a cappuccino. William was more adventurous and he liked an iced caramel mocha, or something sweet like that. They never stayed very long, but I’m sure Logan could tell you whether that was true that day.”

  Brenda was satisfied and wrote down a few quick notes.

  “Do you think something happened while she was here? Does Mac know who did it?” asked Molly eagerly.

  “A lot has to happen before anyone is charged with murder,” Brenda laughed fondly. “Why? Do you have any ideas about who did it?”

  Molly looked taken aback for a moment, then chuckled. “I’m surprised you are asking me that question. If you want to know how to make a great cup of coffee, ask me anytime. But all I know about this thing is what I hear from the rumors flying around.”

  “Well,” replied Brenda, “you let me know if those rumors pop up with anything good.” Molly offered her another latté, but Brenda saw Logan folding his apron and declined Molly’s offer. Molly went back to the counter as Logan sat down at Brenda’s table, an iced drink in his hand.

  “Molly tells me you were in charge when Lady Pendleton and William came in the day before she died,” said Brenda. “Did anyone else come in during that time?”

  Logan took a long pull of his drink through the straw, gazing out the window while he thought. She noticed he did not meet her eyes as he said, “Several customers came and went that afternoon but when the Pendletons came in, no one else was in here. I served them their usual drinks. Always a cappuccino for Lady Pendleton and usually something like an iced mocha for William. They had their drinks, took the special coffee bean order, and left.”

  Brenda knew she had to ask a delicate question that she hadn’t been ready to ask of Molly. “Do you keep any poison in the storeroom, like for pest control?”

  Logan’s youthful face turned ashen as he looked straight at her. “We have a pest control service that comes after hours every month. I think they spray something in the store room, like at the corners of the room and near the drains.” He clasped his hands and then unclasped them and sipped his drink. “In answer to your question, there is no poison kept here at all.”

  He was back to avoiding her gaze again, and there was something strange about the way he had phrased his reply. No poison was stored at the coffee shop, certainly, but that didn’t seem to mean there was no poison on the premises.

  “I’m not saying the poison came from here. In an investigation, questions have to be asked. Sometimes they can send the wrong message. I hope you understand.”

  Logan’s face relaxed. “I thought maybe you were thinking I poisoned Lady Pendleton’s drink.”

  Brenda let the comment pass. If anyone had done that, it would have been Logan. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Detective Rivers and I are trying to find any place that may be a source of poison. If none is kept here, then we can move on.” She smiled reassuringly and Logan grinned back, relieved.

  Just as she drove up the driveway to the bed and breakfast, her cell phone rang.

  “I’m glad I caught you, Brenda. The coroner is positive it was antifreeze in Lady Pendleton’s system. It’s bad enough that everyone in town had a motive to want her dead but when it comes to antifreeze, it will be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. It’s not an uncommon substance here since winters can be harsh.”

  Brenda read frustration in his voice. “Don’t give up yet. There will be something neither of us expects that will lead right to the person or persons responsible.”

  “You’re right, Brenda, though I don’t give up easily. I know that the footwork can be tedious. I’m about to close down for the day.” Brenda felt hesitation in his voice. “If you’re not too busy later this evening, I know a great place to grab a bite to eat.”

  Brenda’s heart skipped a beat. “That sounds like a good idea. We could both use a break.”

  Mac felt a surge of life course through him. Now all he had to do was explain to his best friend Police Chief Bob Ingram why, for the first time in years, he had to miss their weekly pool playing night.

  Chapter Six

  Near Encounter

  After dinner out with Mac Rivers, Brenda arrived home around midnight. She heard a shuffling sound coming from the Gathering Room and wondered which guest was wandering around at this time of night. Perhaps it was Phyllis or Carrie waiting to hear about what they termed her “first date.”

  Suddenly, she caught sight of a figure moving quickly. Her heart picked up a beat and rather than call out, she kept perfectly still and waited in the darkened foyer.

  She heard the shuffling of papers or something similar in the office. She became alarmed when she heard the click of the drawer in the corner desk that she used. She knew from the sound that it was the one drawer she always kept locked. Her notepad with the suspect list and a few other notes about anyone who might be involved in the murder was in that drawer.

  She peered around the corner. So far, the intruder did not realize she was there. “Who’s there?” she called from the doorway.

  As if struck by a bolt of lightning, the figure raced for the opposite door that led through a sunroom and to the outside. In a split second, she was staring at the swinging door the intruder had just brushed through. She followed, yelling “Stop!” She heard her own voice echo in the moonlight and she saw nothing. Turning back inside, she dialed the detective.

  When Mac arrived a few minutes later, he bounded up the steps to the Sheffield and she was grateful to see him at the door.

  “Hi, again,” she said lamely.

  “I wish it were under different circumstances,” Mac said with a grimace as he moved toward the office. She followed, her heart still pounding, and watched as he snapped pictures of the disarray around the area of the corner desk.

  “I keep that drawer locked at all times. As far as I know, I am the only one with a key,” said Brenda.

  Mac turned to her and then gestured toward the split drawer. “Whoever it was didn’t need a key. It looks like you’ll need to repair it later.” He asked why she kept that one drawer locked and Brenda explained her reasons.

  “I keep my notes here where it is handy if I decide I need to talk to someone else. It saves me steps going back upstairs. Carrie and Phyllis have seen me put things in here and lock it. They’ve never asked questions or shown any real interest as far as I can recall.”

  After discussing her poor description of the person searching through the desk, Mac made sure the sunroom door was secured. “Can we lock this office until morning? I want a team to go over everything with a fine-toothed comb. We can only hope the intruder didn’t wear gloves.”

  “It was hard to tell in the dark. I wish I had flipped on the light just before I called out.”

  “That may have put you in more danger than you bargained for.”

  His eyes lingered on her face for a few seconds, his brow wrinkled in concern. He noted animation in her tinted cheeks and her amber eyes sparkled. She made a good investigator, he thought. He was surprised by the strength of his certainty about having her on this case, and wondered if his perso
nal feelings were betrayed too much.

  Brenda looked at him curiously. “Is there more?” she asked.

  “No, I believe that everything is secure.” He checked the locked office door to make sure it was tightly closed, then turned to look at her. “Brenda, I don’t like the idea of you here when you’ve just scared an intruder. Let me stay here, I’ll guard the door.”

  She searched his face in consternation and said, “What would my guests say in the morning when they saw an armed detective blocking the entrance? No, Mac. I’ll be fine.”

  He stood at the front door and worriedly looked out into the darkened streets of Sweetfern Harbor. “You may be right, but I won’t take any chances. I’ll be out there in my car until morning in case they try to return.”

  That night as Brenda tried to relax in bed, she kept seeing the shadowed figure in her mind. Lithe, slender, somewhat tall, and above all, quick on his feet. It could match any number of people in town. She planned to start with Hope Williams, whom she had arranged to meet with the next day.

  Sleepily, she also thought of another figure in the dark. Not the intruder’s slim build, but the broad shoulders and curling blond hair of Detective Mac Rivers outside in his car, guarding the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast. With a smile, she drifted off to sleep.

  Brenda came downstairs earlier than usual the next morning. She knew there would be a slew of questions. She was right.

  “Why is the office locked up? What is this all about?” asked Phyllis. She pointed to Mac’s car, still parked at the curb. Carrie peeped over Brenda’s shoulder. As they looked outside, Mac raised one slightly weary hand and waved.

  Brenda didn’t mince words. “We had an intruder last night. I called Mac and he came right over.”

  “I thought you were out with Mac,” said Phyllis.

  “Well, that was earlier in the night. I surprised the intruder when I got home...”

  “How did the date go?” Brenda’s night out was somehow far more interesting than the fact that someone had broken into the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast the night before.

  “We can talk about it later. Right now, we must redirect the guests, Mac’s team will be coming to examine the scene soon. Phyllis, perhaps after breakfast you can explain the situation and invite everyone out for coffee and tea in the back garden. We need everyone to steer clear of the front hall and office.” She turned to Carrie. “If anyone is not in the mood for tea in the garden, perhaps you can suggest sights around town they may be interested in.”

  Carrie agreed readily. “There is a small handicrafts festival just off Main Street today. There will be plenty of handcrafted things to buy as well as food vendors.”

  As Phyllis busied herself making a short list of supplies she would need to set out in the rose garden for tea and coffee, it dawned on the housekeeper that she should be asking Brenda about more than her night out with Mac Rivers. She wanted to ask what the intruder could have been looking for, but Brenda’s demeanor told her she wouldn’t get her answers.

  By early afternoon, Mac and his team had completed their work and the front hall and sitting room were opened once more to the guests. The detective had also discreetly phoned a woodworking friend in town who would repair the drawer. After a thorough search and interviewing everyone who used the office, it was clear that Brenda’s notes were the only thing missing.

  Outside, she told Mac she was still planning to see Hope Williams. “I don’t think either of us has really interrogated her yet,” she pointed out. He agreed and gave her a ride to Main Street.

  When she entered Sweet Treats Bakery, Hope was behind the counter arranging freshly baked cupcakes. Brenda never tired of the sweet aroma of buttercream frosting that filled the shop. Hope greeted her with a smile.

  “When you have a moment, I’d like to speak with you. Mac has asked me to help with the questioning. Do you mind?”

  “Of course not,” said Hope. “I wondered when my turn was coming.” She wiped her hands on her apron and called to a young girl who emerged from the back. “Tina, will you mind the front counter for a few minutes?”

  Tina came up to help the few customers browsing the baked goods, and Hope and Brenda settled in at a small table in the back corner of the shop.

  “Did you speak with Lady Pendleton any time shortly before her death?” asked Brenda.

  “She liked to personally give notice when she was about to raise the rent, or to let you know if she had some kind of complaint. I heard she had been to see a few other shop owners already, so I knew she was coming. I actually wanted to see her this time around, because I planned to point out the unfairness of the lawsuit she filed against Jenny.” Hope’s bitter laugh reminded Brenda of how much unfinished business had been on the table at the time of the woman’s death.

  “And did you get a chance to tell her all that?”

  “I tried. Later, when she came in, I tried to give her a piece of my mind. I was sure she was going to raise my rent double, in retaliation. Then she really surprised me. She asked if I wanted to meet her for lunch the next day. I have no idea what motivated her to ask me that.”

  How strange, Brenda mused. Perhaps there was something more to Lady Pendleton than first appeared. “Did you meet the next day?”

  Hope nodded her head. “We met for lunch. I brought her a cupcake as a peace offering.”

  When Brenda asked what they discussed during lunch, Hope told her they had said very little and her conclusion was that Lady Pendleton’s motive was to show everyone she favored Hope over other shop owners. Hope threw up her hands in frustration. “I have no idea why she did that right after I accosted her like that. I have to say, she did pay for the meal which surprised me.”

  “Interesting. By the way, where were you last night?” Brenda asked casually, hoping to catch Hope off guard.

  “I was sound asleep in bed,” she said, taken aback.

  “Can anyone verify that?” It had not escaped her notice that Hope was slim and agile, similar to the physique of the intruder. She had also noticed those qualities in the way she moved about while taking care of customers in the bakery.

  Hope’s face turned pink. “I’m not married. I have no children. I live alone. No one can verify that I was sound asleep in my bed all night.”

  Brenda’s cell phone rang. She excused herself, stood up, and took the call a few steps away from Hope. When she realized who it was, she went back and thanked Hope for the chat. “Mac may want to speak to you as well,” she told her.

  She headed for the door. “Mac, I can talk now,” said Brenda.

  “It has been determined that Lady Pendleton was not poisoned over a period of time. It was definitely a massive, one-time dosage, according to the coroner.”

  “That does narrow things down. What do you think about Hope Williams? I just interviewed her. She gave Lady Pendleton a freshly baked cupcake the day before her death. She could easily have laced the frosting with antifreeze. She had a motive when rents went up.”

  “Every shop owner had a motive. It had to be someone who saw her a few hours before her death and who used it against her. We have Pete, William, Hope, and a few others who interacted with her in the twenty-four hours prior to her death.”

  “What about Pete Graham? He certainly knows the grudges everyone in town held against Lady Pendleton,” said Brenda. “He was the go-between for Phyllis and William. Most importantly of all, we know that is the one thing he kept quiet about. Maybe he was bribed to do something to her by one of them. Maybe they knew something about Pete.”

  Mac was silent for a few seconds. “An interesting theory. But he didn’t give her food or drink before she died.” Mac made for a good devil’s advocate, thought Brenda, relishing the quick back and forth of their talk and the easy way they seemed to work together. However, the suspect list was beginning to entwine into a tight knot.

  Brenda changed the subject, knowing she would have a long talk with Pete Graham later. “Any leads on my intruder from las
t night?”

  “There were no fingerprints at all. Not even a shoe print.”

  Brenda felt dejected. “I’ve been wondering about the people who live around here. Carrie knew I locked that drawer but she isn’t tall enough to match the figure I saw.”

  “Molly Lindsey is slim and moves easily. Maybe she broke into your place. Let’s meet as soon as possible—there’s been a development. I believe that when we solve Lady Pendleton’s murder, we will have the answers about your intruder, too.”

  They agreed to meet at the station in fifteen minutes. When Brenda got there she found Mac with his elbows on the desk, flipping through his notes from the past few days. Brenda had not commented when he brought up Molly’s name and was curious to know why he thought she was edging to the top of his list.

  “I’ve asked Molly Lindsey to come down here for another interview. In the meantime, I want to fill you in. We found a paper cup from Morning Sun Coffee in the Pendleton home. It was in the trash can of Lady Pendleton’s office in the south wing. I sent the cup to the lab for testing.”

  “I’m interested to hear Molly’s side of it all,” said Brenda, dismayed. “I find it hard to believe she is a murderer.”

  Moments later, a knock on the door of his office told them that Molly Lindsey had arrived. She glanced at Brenda when Mac told her to sit down. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. She shook her head no.

  “We’ll get right to it. How much did you know about the lawsuit that Lady Pendleton had filed against Jenny?” he asked.

  “I knew every detail. At least, I knew as much as Jenny did. She told me and Hope Williams everything. We’re best friends, after all. You know that.” Brenda watched Molly’s response closely.

  “You told me that Logan Tucker was in charge the day Lady Pendleton came in to pick up her weekly coffee order,” said Brenda. Molly nodded yes. “Were you in and out, or were you away from the shop all afternoon? I know I’ve asked these questions, but for Mac’s sake, will you tell me again?”

 

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