Narcissist in the Daffodils (Greene Fields Mystery Book 1)

by Kristy Carter

  Mabel eyed Penelope in confusion, her eyes crinkling as she squinted at the young woman. “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s nothing,” Penelope waved off the question. “That’s eight dollars and fifty cents, Mabel.” Mabel handed over the money with a confused expression still on her face. Penelope handed her change back and said brightly, “Have a good day!”

  Once Mabel had walked off, Sorrel hit Penelope on the arm. “What are you doing?”

  “She hated Elizabeth, and she’s here all the time. What if it was her or one of those shifty quilters?” Penelope narrowed her eyes at the gaggle of old women that had congregated near the roses.

  Sorrel laughed. “Really?”

  “I’m just frustrated because it doesn’t make any sense. The only thing that makes sense really doesn’t make sense at all, because we know we didn’t do it.” Penelope hit the table in irritation. The noise from Penelope’s hand hitting the table made Sorrel jump. “Sorry,” Penelope mumbled.

  Sorrel frowned and gave Penelope’s hand on the table a squeeze. “We’ve been through a lot of stuff keeping this place running. We can handle a little murder.”

  “I guess it was just my turn to freak out,” Penelope said with a laugh. “You’re right, though; we can do this.” The quilting group seemed to be eyeing them now. “Great. I wonder how suspicious that little outburst made me look?” Penelope nodded toward the group of women. The youngest among the group was fifty, and the women all huddled together, throwing glances over at Sorrel and Penelope.

  There was a sigh from Sorrel. “Don’t worry about them. Leo knows it wasn’t us.”

  “Yeah, but you gotta admit there isn’t a lot of evidence that doesn’t point to it being one of us. And you are the only one who wears that size shoe.” Penelope threw her hands up in the air. “This isn’t making it better. I need to go check the saplings. It’s supposed to get near eighty today.”

  Sorrel groaned. “I love warm weather, but I hate it getting warm when I know it is just going to plummet back down again. The weather needs to pick a season.”

  “Couldn’t agree more,” Penelope said as she gave Sorrel a wave. She walked along the path, her mind half on the task at hand and half thinking over the last few days. “Oh,” Penelope said in surprise as Margie caught her off guard.

  Margie put her hand over her mouth. “Oh geez, I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t know you were out here. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Penelope said and waved off Margaret’s concern. “What were you doing there?”

  Margaret frowned. “I was checking to see if there were any daffodils ready for the table. It looked a little sparse.”

  “Yeah; they all do, to be honest, but Leo doesn’t want us going into that greenhouse until the murder investigation wraps up.” Penelope gave the woman a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as Margaret’s face grew upset, as if she had done something wrong. “It’s been so busy that I completely forgot to tell you. Just stay out of there from now on, okay?”

  The woman slipped her bobbed hair behind her ears nervously and nodded. There was still worry on the woman’s face. “You won’t tell Leo, will you?”

  “Nah, just between you and me,” Penelope assured the woman.

  Margaret let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. I’ve got no intention of dragging anyone else into this investigation.” Penelope gave the woman a wave and continued down to the saplings, which were housed in a little field beside the nursery. Penelope took a deep breath of the warming air and set off to check the saplings to make sure they were well-watered and holding up okay in the sun.

  Chapter 6

  “I can’t tell you how to case is going. And don’t even think about asking Howard.” Leo closed the filing cabinet and leaned on it as he eyed Penelope like she was potentially out to drive him crazy. “You might have been pushed out of the suspect pool, but Sorrel hasn’t been eliminated.” Leo raised his hand up as Penelope opened her mouth to respond. “Not having those particular shoes does not rule her out. She could have dumped them. Even you said that.”

  Penelope folded her arms over her chest. Her eyes narrowed at the man as she fumed at him. “We didn’t do it, and I am going to help you prove that.”

  “You need to stay out of the investigation,” Leo said firmly. “Look, it will just look suspicious if you start snooping around.”

  The calm, professional tone that probably worked on most people Leo met in his line of work certainly had no effect on Penelope. She knew him too well to buy into it. Penelope tapped her heel as she thought. “You’re right. I should just butt out while you and the mayor railroad my cousin into the county jail.”

  “No one is railroading Sorrel, Penny.” Leo glanced over at one of the other officers who had stopped at the water cooler to get a drink. He took Penelope by the arm and escorted her to the station doors. “I don’t know if you just like making me insane or if it is some sort of hobby, but could you just give me a break and go back to the gardening center?”

  Penelope glanced around at the officers who were shooting them conspicuous glances and set her mouth in a firm line. She smoothed her ponytail and put her eyes back on Leo. “Fine. I’ll stay out of your hair.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Leo said earnestly.

  Penelope left before he could say anything else. She muttered on her way to the truck, “Oh yes, sir, I’ll stay out of your hair. I wonder what the mayor’s wife is up to?” Bramble greeted her at the door. “Hey, boy, want to go visiting?” Bramble beat his tail against the seat and Penelope gave him a grin as she cranked the truck.

  The mayor lived on the far side of town from where the station was, way out west toward the state line. Penelope pulled up and eyed the house’s immaculate gardens and perfect exterior. She glanced up at the second-floor balcony; the French doors there probably cost more than half her old farmhouse. Penelope took a deep breath and got out of the truck.

  She shook her finger at Bramble as he started to follow her. “Sorry, champ. You gotta sit this one out. I don’t know if they have cats, and you know you can’t stand cats.” Bramble pouted a bit but did as he was told. Penelope scratched him behind the ear before she shut the truck door.

  The doorbell even sounded fancy somehow, Penelope noted as she waited. A moment later Darcy Falston, the mayor’s wife, pulled the door open. She paused in surprise when she saw Penelope.

  Recognition flickered across Darcy’s face. “Penelope Greene, right? I’ve been to your garden center. It’s a lovely place!” Darcy and Penelope had gone to school together, albeit briefly, before Darcy’s parents moved her to a private school to get her away from all those bad influences in public school.

  “Thank you,” Penelope said with a polite smile. “I was just wondering if I could talk to you a bit. I know it’s been a long time since Mrs. Yates’s English class, but I was hoping I could talk to you about Elizabeth Rhodes.”

  Elizabeth’s name made Darcy’s face go from one of puzzled curiosity to outright disgust. “I’m sorry. I have nothing to say about that woman that can be said in the light of day.”

  “I know she wasn’t anyone’s favorite person, but you have to understand, Darcy. My cousin and I are getting hounded because of something we didn’t do. I just want to talk about Elizabeth’s dealings with your husband.” Penelope had not wanted to rush into asking Darcy outright about the accusations that Elizabeth had dirt on her husband, but the woman was already inching back behind her silver-and-etched-glass door.

  Darcy shook her head. “Everyone knows about George, despite what George thinks. You could find out about that stuff from anyone in town.”

  “Yeah, but they aren’t you. You’re the one who matters, Darcy.” Penelope took a deep breath. “You knew that Elizabeth was blackmailing him?”

  Darcy seemed to deflate. She leaned against the door frame and nodded weakly. “Yeah, I knew. I knew exactly what she was blackmailing him for, too. He never tol
d me about any of it, but I’m not stupid.”

  “Never thought it would get past you,” Penelope told the woman truthfully. Darcy might have been outside of Penelope’s social circle, but she had always liked the woman. How the woman had ended up with a man nearly ten years her senior had always baffled Penelope. Darcy could have had the pick of the town.

  Darcy drew in a shaky breath. “You wanna come in? The neighbors get really snoopy.”

  Penelope agreed with a nod. “I can’t imagine people in this town being nosy,” Penelope said sarcastically as she followed Darcy back inside.

  The laughter from Darcy made Penelope relax. “Yeah, people never let you forget anything in this town. Please sit down. Do you want some tea or something?”

  “No, thank you. I’m fine,” Penelope said politely. The room was decorated in ornate patterns that looked to be old and dated just like George, but here and there a picture or vase would shine out with a youthful vibrancy that told Penelope that Darcy had picked that out. “Did you know Elizabeth personally?”

  There was a shake of Darcy’s head. She spoke softly, “No. I mostly knew of the woman from council members. She was a real stickler for rules.”

  “I guess blackmailing must have not been breaking any rules,” Penelope said in amusement.

  Darcy chuckled again. She ducked her head when she did, as if she was used to hiding her laughter. Darcy looked over at Penelope and smiled. “So, are you trying to see if my husband did Beth in? I’ll tell you now, he’s not much in the athletic department.”

  “No. Leo seems to think the killer might have been a woman.” Penelope paused. She hadn’t meant for that to come out like an accusation, but Darcy did not seem hurt by the notion.

  Darcy smoothed her blond hair over her shoulder and shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t me. I only met Elizabeth once outside of banquets for that horrible art show.”

  “When was that?” Penelope eyed Darcy curiously.

  The woman smoothed down her pleated skirt with tired hands as if she had performed the motion a thousand times over. Darcy clasped her hands together and looked at Penelope. “The day she came to me to tell me about my husband’s indiscretions.”

  “She did what?” Penelope could hardly believe that Elizabeth had done such a thing, but then perhaps she really was a stickler for the rules—golden and otherwise.

  Darcy nodded slowly. “She came to me and told me that George was seeing a woman, a local artist. I stopped her and told her that I knew. I told her that the woman wasn’t the first, either, and probably wouldn’t be the last, knowing George.”

  “What did she say?” Penelope tried to picture it and failed.

  There was a pause as Darcy frowned. “I don’t know that she said much of anything. She got all flustered and left.”

  Penelope frowned too. “She probably wanted to shock you or maybe even blackmail you, but you shocked her instead.”

  “Maybe.” Darcy shrugged. “All I know is that she never came to the house again. Then a month later, here we are.”

  Penelope hesitated, then asked, “How long had you known that George wasn’t faithful?”

  “About the second year of our marriage, I figured it out. The late nights and long weekends, you know? We are a small town. George doesn’t need that many out-of-town trips.” Darcy looked at Penelope with a resignation. “My mother wanted me to marry George, and I did so because he was a nice man. He treated me well. He respected my wishes and gave me what I wanted. I look at our marriage more like a business arrangement than a holy union, Penelope. I don’t expect people to understand that, but I’m not overly hurt by George’s affairs. I’m certainly not hurt by the blackmailing enough to want to do away with Elizabeth.” Darcy sighed. “I was in bed asleep like most everyone else that night. So, I can’t verify where I was, because George and I have separate bedrooms.”

  The way Darcy looked told Penelope that the woman didn’t do it. But then Penelope hadn’t gone there for a smoking gun, just information. “I don’t think you had anything to do with it, Darcy. I just wanted to get some facts verified. You’ve actually really helped. Thanks.”

  “I hope they find the real killer, Penelope. I don’t think anyone in town thinks it was you or Sorrel.” Darcy gave Penelope a genuine smile.

  Penelope thanked her again and then made her way back out to the truck, where Bramble waited impatiently. The dog sniffed her arm as Penelope got into the truck. “No, Bramble, they didn’t have a cat, but you wouldn’t have liked it in there anyway.”

  “Margie, can I talk to you for a minute?” With Bramble right behind her, Penelope jogged toward Margaret as she was bent over rearranging pots of roses.

  Margaret looked up with a smile. “Sure.” The woman stood up and dusted herself off before removing her work gloves. The emerald-green vest with the garden center’s logo flapped in the breeze.

  “Ouch. Looks like the roses got you.” Penelope nodded toward Margaret’s arm.

  She looked down, puzzled, and shook her head. “I didn’t even feel it.” Margaret reached into her work apron and fished out a Band-Aid. While she put it on her arm, Margaret asked, “Whatcha want to talk to me about?”

  “The county art show,” Penelope said with a grin. Margaret gave Penelope a confused look. Penelope quickly continued, “I know it seems silly. It’s just I have it from a good source that the affair—or one of the affairs—that Elizabeth was blackmailing the mayor about involved a female artist. I thought if anyone would know anything about that, it would probably be you.”

  Margaret frowned. “Wow. I had no idea. Do you think that whoever did it might have had the motive to hurt Elizabeth?”

  “Maybe,” Penelope said. The two turned and walked toward the greenhouses. As they walked, Penelope confided in Margaret about her conversation with Darcy Falston.

  With a shake of her head, Margaret whistled. “That’s quite the scandal. She didn’t have any idea who the woman was?”

  “If she did, she didn’t let on,” Penelope said with disappointment. It would have made it a lot easier if Darcy had. “It stands to reason, though, that if Elizabeth went after the wife for blackmail or whatever, she’d also go after the mistress.”

  Margaret slapped her gloves against her jeans. “The thought of someone doing something to hurt my art show makes me so mad. If Beth had gotten wind of foul play, she would have been all over it. You didn’t break the rules on Beth Rhodes’ watch.”

  “I’ve heard that,” Penelope said with a smile. “Wanna help me find some rule breakers?”

  Margaret nodded. “Seems the least I can do for Beth. We didn’t get along much while she was alive, but she was a decent sort of person.”

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said about her thus far,” Penelope confided in Margaret.

  With a shake of her head, Margaret said, “Well, Mama always said not to speak ill of the dead.”

  Chapter 7

  Margaret had told Penelope everything there was to know about the art show, including all the eligible bachelorettes who might be having a seedy affair with George Falston. At that point, Margaret could have just said nearly everyone. Foremost on the list was probably the former reigning winner of the county art show before Margaret had come on the scene three years before. Penelope agreed that jealousy and greed could have made the woman take on some strange bedfellows to ensure that she finally got back what she thought was rightfully hers, the coveted first place and the five-thousand-dollar prize.

  Penelope walked down the hallway, tapping the pocket of her jeans where her list of suspects was folded up neatly. Bramble loped along beside her. The public building was open to most dogs as long as they were well-behaved, and Penelope liked having Bramble along. He was a good judge of character.

  “Are you Jamie London?” Penelope asked the question of a tall, slender, brown-haired girl who looked like she was probably chosen homecoming queen every year, even at schools she did not attend.

  The girl g
rinned at Penelope. “Nope. That’s my mom. She’ll be back soon. Are you a reporter covering the art show contestants?”

  Penelope thought about accepting the lie but shook her head. “No. I just needed to ask her some questions.” Truthfully there was no reason for the woman to answer any of her questions, but Penelope hoped that by sounding like she had a right to ask the questions, it would make Jamie cooperative.

  Jamie’s daughter extended her hand. “I’m Tanya, by the way. Feel free to wait.” The girl graciously extended her hand to some canvas chairs near where her mom was setting up her exhibit. It was covered in linen, but Penelope thought she could make out a vague shape.

  A few minutes later, a woman who looked like an older version of Tanya came through the door from the parking lot with some lighting. “Oh hello,” the woman said to Penelope.

  “Hi. You must be Jamie. I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private?” Penelope glanced over at the woman’s daughter. She really did not want to bring up an affair in front of Tanya. She had no idea what repercussions that might have.

  Jamie shrugged, her face displaying a look of downright confusion. She put the lights on the floor. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just go get something to eat until I get done with this.”

  “Sure,” Tanya said as she happily took a few dollars from her mother. “Nice to meet you,” Tanya said politely before taking her leave and heading out the door to the parking lot.

  Penelope smiled. “She seems like a really great kid.”

  “She is,” Jamie confirmed. “So, are you from a newspaper or something?”

  Penelope took a steadying breath and said, “No. I’m Penelope Greene. I own Greene Fields Gardening Center.”

  “Oh, the place where they found Elizabeth,” Jamie said thoughtfully. “I don’t understand. What can I help you with?”

  There was an opening. Penelope said, “Well, actually it’s about George Falston.”

  “The mayor here?” Jamie looked more confused than ever. “I’m sorry. I don’t know that I can help much. I don’t even live here. I just come to town for the art show.”