Greenhouse Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 1-6

by Wendy Tyson

  Thirty-One

  Megan lay in bed unable to sleep. Every sound the old farmhouse made, every creak, every rattle, sounded like a car pulling into the driveway. It was after eleven when Megan finally gave up on Denver. He had his aunt to attend to and a practice to run—she understood. She just wished she had let his dogs out for him one more time.

  The day’s events played like a silent film in Megan’s head.

  Especially Emily’s house. That house had been a horror from day one. The events of last fall would forever be tied to the property in her mind, and she knew in Emily’s too. Still, to see it there, burned and hollow, made the events of the last few weeks all the more real.

  The door to her bedroom opened and Gunther padded his way across the room. Megan held her breath, waiting for her oversized teddy bear to heft himself onto the bed where Sadie had already staked out space. Some people didn’t believe in letting their dogs sleep in bed. She didn’t much care what those people thought. On occasion, though, she imagined how nice it would be to have leg room.

  Gunther’s nose pressed against Megan’s arm. She wiggled her hand out from under the blankets and pet him, thinking about comfort and warmth and her conversation with Aunt Sarah. It was hard for Megan to imagine Sarah with Paul Fox. It wasn’t the age difference, which was less than a decade, it was the personality difference. She reminded herself that Sarah was not always the strong, confident woman she was today. She’d earned those stripes over time.

  Had Charlotte Birch changed too? Would Megan even recognize her mother if she saw her today? Somehow she felt she would. Do you ever forget a bond like that?

  Stop, Megan thought. This isn’t helping you sleep. It’s not helping with anything.

  Megan made a mental list of things to follow up on tomorrow. She still needed a tree. It was their family’s tradition to decorate it on Christmas Eve before a turkey dinner and a roaring fire. She hoped Denver would join them this year. Clover and Clay too. Maybe even Emily. She and Clay had seemed closer lately. Wouldn’t it be funny if Becca’s love potion was working after all?

  Speaking of love potion, Megan still needed to shop.

  Beyond the farm and café and holiday jobs, she wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on. No one in Winsome would be able to rest until this mess was solved. But how? And where to start? She couldn’t shake the feeling that Paul’s two wives had something to do with what was happening in Winsome.

  Revenge.

  The deaths of Paul’s wives, and Sarah’s imagination.

  And money? Thinking of Sarah again, Megan wondered—could Paul’s finances play a part in this too?

  How all of these things intertwined was a mystery. One Megan hoped to solve before someone else in their small town met with Fox family misfortune.

  Megan woke up to the sound of a text registering on her phone. She rolled over and glanced at the clock. 2:14. It was Denver asking if she was still up.

  She texted him back: No, but I could be.

  Twenty minutes later, he joined her at the farmhouse. Sleep came more easily then.

  “Aunt Eloise is awake. She doesn’t remember much about the morning she was attacked. The doctors said that’s normal. She may get some memory back as the swelling subsides. Right now she’s not really communicating. The doctors want her to rest.”

  Bibi had made pancakes and sausage for Megan, Denver, and Clay. Denver was eating his way through a tall stack and trying to wake up with a tall mug of black coffee. He looked worn and worried but content, despite getting only a few hours’ sleep.

  “I’m glad she’s okay,” Megan said hopefully. She didn’t want to ask about lasting damage, but it was what was on her mind.

  And Denver’s apparently.

  “We don’t know if there is brain damage yet. She suffered quite a blow and the swelling was severe.” His eyes darkened. “Only time will tell.”

  Megan poured herself another cup of coffee and refilled Clay’s mug. Bibi was drinking tea this morning, and she smiled at Megan when no one else was looking. Bibi liked Denver, and although she might not have approved of finding him in her kitchen at five forty-five in the morning, freshly showered and carrying an overnight bag, Megan knew she’d tolerate it because she wanted Megan to be happy.

  “What I don’t understand,” Clay said, “is why your aunt? If this is related to Paul Fox’s death, what could she have to do with him?”

  Megan and Denver exchanged a look, but it was Bibi who spoke first. “Eloise was the reason the Fox family left town. Sarah, my sister-in-law, alerted Eloise that Paul was not a very ethical therapist. Eloise had contracted with him to provide counseling for her patients who’d suffered some form of trauma in their lives. When Eloise heard, she did some digging into Paul’s background. What she found was not savory. She let him go.”

  “Is that common knowledge?” Megan asked.

  “I don’t think Eloise advertised it, but it didn’t take much to put two and two together.”

  “How did Eloise’s dismissal force Paul to leave Winsome?” Clay asked. He placed another four-stack of pancakes on his plate and drizzled warm maple syrup over the top. He cut into the stack as he said, “He must’ve had other work.”

  Bibi replenished the pancakes with a fresh batch. Looking over the table to ensure everyone was fed, she said, “He’d been unfaithful to Blanche and many people knew it. On top of that, being let go from Dr. Kent’s office was humiliating. It’s a small town now, but smaller back then. People talked.”

  “So you think Paul blamed Eloise?” Denver asked. “Paul is dead, so clearly he couldn’t have attacked my aunt.”

  “But Becca could have.” Bibi glanced at Megan. “Right?”

  Megan nodded reluctantly. “Becca went missing the morning Eloise was attacked, Denver. Her brother and Merry couldn’t find her.” Seeing Clay’s look of disbelief, Megan added, “There are other possibilities.”

  “Such as?” Denver asked.

  Megan tried to put her thoughts in order. “Well, there is a missing man, a former patient of Paul’s named William Dorset, who Becca approached about suing her father. Bobby thinks perhaps the man became enamored with the idea of money and didn’t want to wait for a lawsuit.”

  “So he was blackmailing Paul?” Clay put his fork down. “And then killed him?”

  “It’s possible.” Megan told them about Paul’s request for money—leaving out the other sordid aspect of her aunt’s encounter with the victim. “Maybe he was requesting the money to pay off his blackmailer.”

  Bibi looked thoughtful. “That doesn’t explain Eloise. Becca could have had a beef with Dr. Kent for ruining her family life. That’s how a child might perceive it. But this William?”

  Denver said, “Could he have been a patient of Eloise’s practice, someone Paul victimized and now he is looking for revenge?”

  Megan shook her head. “I don’t think so. Bobby said William is from New York. Paul worked with him after he left Winsome. That said, if he’s not working alone, if he’s paired up with Becca, it’s possible they were blackmailing your aunt. Maybe she refused to pay.”

  Denver stared at Megan mid-bite. “Do you think Aunt Eloise did something wrong?”

  “I’m not saying that at all. I did speak to her—remember that?—and she was less than forthcoming. I got the sense she didn’t want to talk about any of this. At the time I chalked it up to regret. Painful to think you’d exposed patients who were afraid to trust to someone so untrustworthy, but now I’m wondering if it’s not more than that. Maybe they’d already approached her and she was feeling the pressure.”

  Denver pushed his plate away. The thought of his aunt’s involvement seemed to weigh heavily on him and he shook his head back and forth. “My aunt is a very ethical person. Not always friendly, I know, but she would never do something to endanger her patients. If they thought they
had dirt on her, they were wrong. I just don’t see it.” He met Megan’s gaze. “Becca makes more sense. She had reason to be angry if her life went downhill after they left Winsome. Like a child, she may have blamed my aunt.”

  “And Sarah.” Bibi’s voice was low. “She may blame Sarah too.”

  “Sarah was included on Becca’s list of potential victims. She must have known something,” Megan said. “It could explain the books.”

  They all turned to look at Megan and she realized Clay and Denver weren’t aware of Sarah’s novels and the role they seemed to play. She gave them a quick summary. “From what I can tell, it’s the books with ‘kill’ in the title. They seemed to be linked with the concept of revenge. But in every book there is some detail that relates to a crime committed here. In Love Kills, a teenage son kills his father because his father had multiple wives and was cheating on the boy’s mother. He uses a shovel to hit his father on the back of the head.”

  “So the shovel used against Eloise comes from that book?” Denver looked skeptical.

  “And it turns out Paul had been married before Blanche. When he was very young.” Megan paused. “And his young wife died accidentally. She fell down the steps.”

  Bibi’s eyes widened. She sat down at the table and looked at Megan. “Paul was married before Blanche?”

  Megan nodded. “Bobby found that out. They lived in Bennington, Vermont at the time. He said the police ruled it an accident. I was asked to keep it quiet for a few days.”

  Denver asked, “Have you seen the death certificate?”

  Megan shook her head.

  “If it’s true, I don’t think Blanche knew that. I certainly don’t think Merry knew.” Bibi shook her head. “That’s a very big thing to hide.”

  “And it calls into question Becca’s accusations that Paul killed her mother. Two dead wives?” Bibi’s face said she was searching for the right words. “Gives more credibility to the claim. Especially if he had been hiding one of them. A lie of omission, if you ask me.”

  Megan nodded. “Paul also lied about his education, and this goes back to your aunt, Denver. He never got a graduate degree in psychology. He didn’t even graduate from undergrad. He had an associate’s degree from a community college. The folks suing him? They could have had a case.”

  “He lied about his schooling too?” Bibi’s face had paled. “How did he get away with that?”

  “Not everyone checks,” Megan said. “Especially when the person seems to have such good credentials.”

  “And he moved around a lot,” Denver said. “Probably left a place before they could catch on. Unless someone contacted a school to confirm, they might never know.”

  Bibi shook her head. “Merry was so proud to have a distinguished therapist in the family. We heard about it for months after he and Blanche married. Paul this, Paul that. Poor Merry. If someone could lie about such fundamental things, it does make you question everything else they’ve told you.”

  Merry. Megan looked at her grandmother, the wheels turning. Merry had a stake in all of this too. She’d lost her sister. A lawsuit, if it went through, would drag her family through the mud. She’d been acting odd lately. Antisocial, unresponsive. Could there be more than a stomach virus going on?

  “And then there’s the brother,” Clay said. “I don’t like him and I don’t trust him.”

  “He can be abrasive,” Megan agreed.

  Megan considered Luke. His alibi for the night of Paul’s death was also Merry. The family seemed tangled up with one another. Was one of them involved…or all of them?

  Clay stood and put his dishes in the dishwasher. He went around the table clearing plates until Denver rose to help him.

  “The fact remains that it was Becca who set fire to Emily’s house. Not Luke. Not some prior patient of Paul’s. Not Sarah or Eloise. Becca.” Clay rinsed the coffee pot, his voice raised over the sound of the spigot. “Becca.”

  “An incident that could be unrelated,” Denver said.

  “But it, too, seems connected to the books.” Megan went on to tell them about Killing Honor, Sarah’s upcoming novel, and the connection to her fan base. “Given everything else, I doubt that’s a coincidence.”

  “Becca,” Clay said. “I can’t believe I’m saying it, but she makes the most sense.”

  Denver nodded. “And she has the chemistry background. Poisoning her father would not have been a stretch.”

  “Remember that anyone with basic knowledge—or an internet connection, for that matter—could have produced the phosgene,” Clay said. “It’s not hard. People get sick from it more often than you’d think.”

  Megan agreed. “But Becca does make sense.” Maybe too much sense? “I can’t stop thinking about the novels. Whoever is tying these incidents to the books has a message for us. At first I thought it was a blueprint for murder, but the connections are more tentative, less linear. And all seem to revolve around the concept of revenge.”

  “Becca,” Clay said again.

  “Or someone who wants it to look like Becca,” Bibi said. “Someone very, very clever.”

  “Or very, very sick,” Megan said.

  Thirty-Two

  “We need to make an arrest, and soon. This is in the national press now, and my boss is breathing down my neck.” King rubbed his chin. His eyes were shadowed, his face moonlight pale. It appeared he hadn’t slept in days.

  “Bobby, did you talk with Sarah Birch?”

  King nodded. He had stopped by the café looking for Clover and Megan pulled him into the back office. He straddled her extra chair, his long legs stretched out across her cramped quarters. “She called me at home last night.”

  Megan felt relieved. “So you’ll look into the financial angle?”

  “You mean the money Paul wanted to borrow?”

  Megan nodded. She could hear Alvaro barking orders at Bibi in the kitchen, and Bibi’s biting remarks back. She would have laughed had the situation in Winsome not felt so dire.

  “Right now we’re building our case against our prime suspect. So yes, we’ll look into Paul’s finances. We have already, in fact.”

  “And the email list for Sarah’s newsletter?”

  “That could take weeks to decipher, even with computer assistance. We need the warrant, and then we need to try to match email addresses, some of which will be tied to fake accounts—”

  “But if you know what you’re searching for, that shouldn’t take as long. And you may be able to get Sarah to turn over the information voluntarily.”

  “Will still take time.”

  Megan frowned. “It sounds like you’ve made your decision, Bobby. That Becca is your man, so to speak.”

  King didn’t respond. Megan felt a tug of sympathy. She knew he was under duress, and that he wanted to do the right thing. She also knew that he had two real issues to put to bed: Paul’s murder and the attack on Eloise. The rest—the books, the Canal Street stalker, Blanche Fox’s death—was all noise. Unless it helped make an arrest. And at this point, to King, it probably sounded too far-fetched to be useful.

  “Have you talked to Merry?” Megan asked. She heard the weariness in her own voice. “She also has something to lose here.”

  “Merry has been sick in bed for days. Her nephew confirmed that. And yes, I did go by the house to talk to her. She was pretty out of it. I told Luke to call a doctor.”

  Megan nodded. King stood. He edged closer to the door, clearly looking for escape.

  “You know Becca couldn’t have perpetrated the attack against me, Bobby.”

  “It could have been wholly unrelated.”

  “The book. The perpetrator left the book. Clearly it was related.”

  Bobby sighed, hand on the doorknob. Laughter from the kitchen wafted in, along with the scent of cinnamon scones. “We’re still looking for William Dorset. But
that doesn’t change anything regarding the murder.”

  “You really think you have the right person?” Megan asked.

  Bobby’s eyes searched hers, but only for a moment. He opened the door and disappeared back out into the café.

  It was nearly eight before Megan arrived home. By then she’d gotten word that Becca had been arrested for Paul’s death. Megan’s head was pounding. It felt as though the entire town was going mad. Merry still wasn’t taking her calls, and Luke was actively petitioning for his sister’s release. Even Bibi was charged up. She met Megan at the door with a string of complaints regarding how the young police chief was handling the situation.

  “He’s caving to pressure from that commissioner,” Bibi said. She was wearing her “Welcome to Winsome” sweatshirt, and she’d tucked her hair under a bright red beret.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Bridge.”

  “It’s eight o’clock.”

  “We have an emergency meeting.”

  Megan hung her coat on the hook by the door. “An emergency meeting of bridge? I didn’t think there was such a thing.”

  Bibi buttoned her own coat. She added a red scarf and red mittens. She looked adorable, and Megan resisted the urge to hug her.

  “It may be our holiday party, Megan, but we’re using it as an emergency meeting to talk about what’s been happening in Winsome.”

  “What do you think that will accomplish?”

  Bibi held her keys in one hand, sharp key up between two fingers, the way she learned in self-defense class at the senior center. She paused at the door. “We’re all worried. We’re worried about our safety, and we’re worried about Merry.”

  Megan could understand. Only she was worried about her eighty-four-year-old grandmother driving around at night. “How about if I drive you?”

  Bibi smiled. “I know you’re worried about me. I’ll call when I get there, and I’ll call when I’m on my way home.”

  When Megan didn’t say anything, Bibi opened the door. “If I can’t do something as basic as bridge, then I’ve really lost my freedom.”