Grand Prize: Murder!

by Vivian Conroy

  Vicky let her gaze drift over the people present, recognizing a few locals. The mayor, of course, with his wife. The mayor’s wife wore a green dress with two strings of pearls. The bank director with his wife. The bank director’s wife wore a white gown with matching wide-sleeved robe. All people with clout.

  Then at the open doors into the garden Vicky saw a flash of a familiar face.

  Bob Jones.

  Strange that he had been invited too. She had been so certain Bob was not in Lilian’s league.

  But maybe Lilian had felt generous?

  Cash excused himself saying he had to talk to someone a minute and before Vicky knew it, Michael was back by her side. He put something in his pocket that was probably a cell phone. She hitched a brow at him. “No rest for the wicked?”

  “Only taped a quote from our hostess and the guest of honor Miss Bella Brookes. All I have to do is type it up for the Gazette.”

  “The edition is finalized by midnight, right? Can you make that?” Regret flooded her that he would be rushing off for work. His remark about work being too much sometimes suggested a deeper inner conflict she wanted to talk to him about. A quiet nightcap after the party seemed like the perfect opportunity for that.

  Michael smiled down on her. “I’m finalizing it myself, before 1.00 a.m. For this single special occasion. I’d hate to leave this party early.”

  Vicky held his gaze to determine his meaning. Then loud laughter drew her attention away from Michael. Bella Brookes leaned over to Sydney Haverton and put her gloved hand on his arm. Sydney smiled back and told her something.

  Lilian glanced in their direction, alarm in her face. As Cash had just explained that Sydney was a bit of a player who hadn’t finished college and didn’t succeed in his jobs, Vicky could guess he wasn’t exactly the sort of brother Lilian wanted to show off to her friends.

  I’d better intervene.

  She excused herself to Michael and went over to Bella and Sydney. “Hello there. I’m sorry to intrude but I recall Lilian has a great conservatory here with beautiful tropical plants. She specifically offered to show it to you. I saw a lot of botanical gardens in the UK, and I love tropical plants. Shall we have a look together? The orchids should be especially lovely.”

  Bella was interested at once. “I love orchids. I try my own hand at them from time to time. But somehow I always give them too much water and ruin them. The flowers drop off and after that, they just never blossom again. I need the secret to orchids that last.”

  Sydney gestured to Lilian to come on over, and within minutes they were all in her conservatory, where Lilian launched into an excited exposition about the orchids and other rare plants that grew there.

  Bella asked about special earth for the orchids, and Lilian admitted that her gardener knew everything about that. “I can ask him and let you know? Maybe we can do lunch before you leave town again?”

  “That would be lovely,” Bella accepted with a smile. She used her big fan to wave cold air onto her face. Vicky had to admit it was pretty hot in the conservatory. Outside the day drew to a close, and in the deepening darkness the lanterns gave a fairy tale like atmosphere to the grounds. People were walking there, arm in arm, talking, laughing. Everybody seemed to be having fun.

  As they came out into the hall again, Sydney was leading some men upstairs.

  “I bet they are going to play pool.” Lilian’s disapproval showed in her face. “Sydney never liked a lot of socializing and dancing. I wish he would try though and stay in the party mood a little longer.”

  Vicky spied round for Michael and saw him talking to Lisa Coombs. She was staring down at her feet, barely daring to look up at him. At the first chance she got she escaped to the outside. Vicky wondered if she felt as unhappy in her job as Marge had surmised.

  Returning her attention to the other guests, Vicky accepted a glass of mineral water from a passing waiter and took a few refreshing sips. People were dancing in the big room to the left, to the tunes of a real orchestra. Vicky spotted Marge and Kevin gazing into each other’s eyes as if they were newlyweds. Michael had told her to save a dance for him, so she hoped he would come over soon. In the meantime she might take a spin with Cash. He had always been a good dancer.

  She looked around for him and saw him at the other end of the room talking to a man in a gray suit—underdressed compared to the other guests. A waiter? Or some other member of the extensive staff hired to let everything run smoothly tonight?

  Cash’s expression was worried, and he shook his head repeatedly. Then he raked through his hair, his well-known gesture of helplessness.

  Vicky wondered what the man was asking him. It was obviously something Cash did not want to help out with. Why did he not simply refer the man to Lilian or Deke? They were the hosts of this party—although Lilian’s brother Sydney had been by her side earlier and acting like he was in charge. Apparently the Havertons all had quite domineering personalities.

  Marge came up and whispered she had seen the refurbished dining room and spotted fabrics purchased through the Country Gift Shop. “I hope her friends love it and ask where she got it. Could bring us new customers. Decorating people’s homes will bring you more cash flow than just selling a few items in the store.”

  “Right. I’m also thinking ahead to the festive season already. Companies like to gift something to their business relations for Christmas. Maybe we can do special British-themed sets for those?”

  Vicky froze as she saw the man in the gray suit walk away. Something about the way he moved reminded her of someone.

  Mr. Giverny, the nosy journalist who had tried to see Bella.

  But as he had talked to Cash, she had seen his face clearly and he had not had a mustache. Had he shaved to change his appearance?

  Had the mustache really been a paste-on?

  Marge was saying, “Good idea. By the way, where is Bella? I haven’t seen her for some time.”

  Vicky looked around. She didn’t see the flamboyant figure of the mystery author anywhere among the dancers. Or among the people walking around in the lantern light outside.

  An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

  “Maybe she went back to the conservatory,” Vicky said to Marge. “She was fascinated with the orchids. I bet she wants to use them in a new book. I’ll go see if I can find her.”

  Vicky went into the conservatory softly and spotted two figures inside, melted into a passionate embrace. Paul DuBree panted as he kissed the woman again and again. But it was not his blonde companion for the night. That woman had worn her blonde hair loose with a conspicuous lime fascinator. This woman wore a large hat, and the single lock of hair on her back, which escaped from her do under the hat, was clearly dark.

  Lisa Coombs?

  If it really was the timid assistant, she had morphed into a femme fatale.

  Vicky hastily retreated. As she came back into the hall, she saw Bella come down the stairs with Sydney Haverton. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled. She leaned heavily on the young man’s arm, whispering something into his ear. As she spotted Vicky, she waved at her. “Delightful party. Thanks so much for taking me along.”

  Vicky answered with a wide smile. It was a relief to see Bella safe and sound, having fun. Then a hand landed on her arm. Michael stood by her side. “May I have this dance?”

  She looked up into his warm brown eyes and forgot all about her guest. She had wanted to dance with Michael Danning at their college dances but he had never asked her. Of course she wasn’t nineteen anymore, but the idea she’d finally have her dance made her heartbeat skip. “Yes, please.”

  Still she couldn’t resist asking, “Do you know someone called Giverny, working for a Haven Herald?”

  “No. I don’t think there is a Haven Herald around these parts. Then again I don’t know each and every publication. It could be a weekly or monthly thing. Or a special summer magazine for the tourists maybe. How come?”

  “Never mind.” She had promi
sed Marge no more business tonight. “Let’s dance.”

  Michael led her into the room where the orchestra was playing and put his arm around her waist. They fell into step with one another, following the slow enchanting rhythm of the music. They flew around the room, the figures of the people around them just a blur of colors.

  Vicky closed her eyes a moment and let the music carry her. This dance should last forever. This perfect night of being with friends, feeling alive and happy and carefree. In a place she didn’t want to leave again.

  The next morning Vicky awoke to the sound of someone banging on something. Her head seemed to bang along. She turned over under her duvet and tried to ignore the noise. She needed sleep.

  Then she realized it was banging at the door of her cottage. She opened an eye and spied for the alarm clock.

  Seven-thirty?

  Who was asking for her attention at this insanely early hour?

  Her store didn’t open till ten on Saturdays so she had hoped to be able to sleep in. After the party last night her head was a little fuzzy and her feet sore from the dancing in high heels. There had been so much dancing, with Michael and with Cash, even with Sydney Haverton who had turned out to be a good dancer who could make her laugh too.

  It had been well after one o’clock when they had left the party. Michael had been late for his input at the paper and had dropped her off at the cottage with a quick good-bye, promising they’d catch up on his Copenhagen trip later.

  Vicky had gone in and had done a little solo dancing in her hallway, moving around with her eyes closed and her head full of the intoxicating music. Then she had put the rose from the corsage in water, hoping it would last a day or two to look at.

  The banging continued, and Vicky crawled out of bed, put on her soft pink dressing gown and low slippers, and staggered to her front door. She pulled it open and blinked at…

  Lilian?

  Vicky’s eyes opened wide. The fuzziness cleared with the shock of this sudden sight.

  What on earth was posh Lilian Haverton Rowland doing at Vicky’s cottage early in the morning, looking like she hadn’t slept all night?

  “I’m sorry,” Lilian said, her voice wobbly. “I didn’t mean to drag you out of bed. But I need your help. Sydney is gone and…” She burst into tears.

  She said something more about somebody, but Vicky couldn’t make any sense of it. She took the woman’s arm and pulled her in, directed her into the kitchen and planted her on a chair. She felt a little self-conscious in her dressing gown, but she didn’t dare leave Lilian alone now that she was so upset and crying.

  “We need a hot drink.” She filled her kettle with water for tea. “Calm down now and tell me all about it. You said that somebody was…”

  “There is some body in my conservatory,” Lilian said between gasps. “It’s a man. He bled all over my tiles.”

  Chapter Five

  Vicky turned to her, the kettle spilling water over the floor and her bare feet in her slippers. She gasped under the cold sensation. “Some body as in some dead body? A dead man in your conservatory?”

  “Yes. And Sydney is nowhere to be found.” Lilian stared at her with wide eyes. “I wanted to call the police right after my find, but then I thought that it might look bad for Sydney and…”

  Vicky didn’t follow. “Why would it look bad for your brother? Just because he is missing?”

  “Uh…” Lilian stared down at her hands.

  Vicky straightened up. She sensed there was more to it than Lilian was letting on. “If you want my help, you have to tell me everything. Who is this dead man? Was he a guest at the party? A friend of yours? You think that maybe he quarreled with your brother and…”

  “No,” Lilian said in a horrified tone, “he was no guest. And certainly no friend. He merely worked for us. Deke hired him. From a reputable security company he said, which caters to all the stars. But I guess he was wrong. It seems that…Sydney caught him during the evening taking photographs of guests. Like some lurid tabloid reporter! Knowing how much harm something like that can do, Sydney was angry about it, and they got into an argument. Sydney forcefully took his camera away from him, and then the guy threatened Sydney. My brother has quite a temper so he said that he’d…” Lilian swallowed.

  “He threatened him in return?” Vicky supplied.

  Lilian nodded. “So when I saw him lying there dead…”

  Vicky’s thoughts raced. “You said there was blood on the tiles. Do you have any idea how he died?”

  “Struck down.” Lilian stared ahead. “I have this marble pedestal on which to put flower pots. It’s solid marble, rather heavy. It lay on the floor. So I suppose that was used to deal the victim a hard blow to the head.”

  Vicky nodded. “Sounds quite probable. An impromptu weapon, it seems. That could indicate it was a fight gone wrong.”

  “Which implicates Sydney! Where can he be?” Lilian chewed on her lip. “I was scared out of my mind alone with the dead man.”

  Vicky asked, “What about Deke?”

  Lilian waved an impatient hand. “He took sleeping pills last night. I couldn’t wake him. He’s never of any use to me when I need him.”

  She looked up at Vicky. “A dead man in my house! Do you have any idea what my friends will say?”

  Vicky leaned against the sink, the kettle still in her hand. A murder most likely committed during the party. People walking about. Lots of people. Lots of possible suspects. This wouldn’t be easy.

  “You have to call Cash,” she said with determination in her voice. “He has to secure the area and all traces that he can find. You touched or changed nothing?”

  “No, I was scared to death. I didn’t look too closely. I’m…not even sure he was dead now that I think about it. He lay very still, and there was blood, so I suppose he was, but…”

  Vicky put down the kettle on the sink with a resolute bang. “We’re going back together. We have to make sure he is dead. Then we will call the police and I’ll stay with you during the questioning. We’ll see if we can figure out why this guy might have been killed at your party.”

  Lilian got up from the chair, her hands shaking. “This is a nightmare,” she whispered, “especially if my brother gets implicated.”

  As soon as Vicky walked into the conservatory, she was certain the man was dead. The body lay in a strange position, and nobody who was injured would stay lying like that. He would have tried to move, turn over, grab at something. Besides, there was the blood. She didn’t want to go too close and stepped back. “We can call Cash now. I’m not going anywhere near that body. I don’t want new trouble with evidence.”

  During the earlier murder investigation she had participated in, the idea that evidence had been touched or changed had caused them endless trouble, even almost allowing the killer to get away scot-free. She was not making that same mistake again.

  Lilian nodded, and they returned to the living room where Lilian called Cash. He first thought it was a joke, because it really didn’t seem likely a dead body could have ended up in his sister-in-law’s home. But then as he realized Lilian meant it, he told her to keep calm and he’d be there soon.

  Cash arrived in a rush, certainly having broken the speed limit, and hugged his sister-in-law.

  Vicky knew they were not close because Lilian was too posh and too busy with appearances and reputation for Cash’s liking. But right now he had forgotten all about that and just wanted to help her and comfort her. Vicky liked him all the better for it.

  Cash focused on Vicky and frowned. Lilian explained she had turned to Vicky first thing when she had found the body. “I thought she could help. She knows something about solving murders.”

  Cash frowned even deeper as if he disliked the statement, and Vicky hastened to say she hadn’t touched anything. “I didn’t even get near the body. It seemed obvious he was dead. Had he been merely wounded, he would have tried to attract attention, get help.”

  Cash nodded. “Seems
likely.”

  Together they went to the conservatory, and Cash approached the body and touched it. “He’s dead all right. Has been for hours. The body is cold and stiff. I’ll have to wait for a report to know the exact time of death. What’s this?”

  He leaned over by the dead man’s shoulder. “It looks like a piece of something painted. A picture of a little house and bridge, black on white with some red. And a bit of feather stuck to it. Could be from a peacock, for all I know.”

  Vicky froze. She looked at Lilian. “Bella had a fan with her last night, painted silk with peacock feathers.”

  Lilian looked shocked as well. “She was here with us to look at my orchids. Maybe she lost a bit of the fan then?”

  Vicky shook her head. “She used it to cool her face, I saw it well. It was in one piece when we left to go back to the hall. It must have gotten damaged later in the night.”

  She hesitated and added softly, “I suppose it takes some force to break off a piece like that?”

  “You can bet on that.” Cash exhaled heavily. “That doesn’t look too good for your guest author.”

  He got up from beside the body and came over to where Vicky and Lilian were standing at a safe distance. “You know where she is staying?”

  “Yes, in the apartment over my store.”

  “Good. I want to talk to her right away.”

  Alarmed by his grim tone, Vicky looked him over. “Why? Just because you found a piece of Bella’s fan here?” She tried to sound light and cheerful as if the find mattered little. “You have no idea how it ended up here. Lilian just told me this man was a guard at the party. He can hardly have had any substantial contact with the guests. How could Bella have ever—”

  She fell silent as Cash gestured at her. “There is more than just the bit of fan, Vicky. Something that happened last night.”

  Cash waited a moment as if to collect his thoughts. “This man came up to me during the party and asked for a word with me. He had heard I was the local sheriff and he wanted to talk to me about a…crime.”

  Vicky recalled the underdressed man talking to Cash and Cash making his well-known helpless gesture. That had been this very man?