Ivan took the handkerchief from her and studied the stogie then shook his head. “No, we didn’t miss a thing, Araminta. There was a cigar butt, though. We found it under the body. It was soggy from all the rain—there were thunderstorms the night Mr. Tuccinelli was murdered, remember?”
Araminta did remember. She hadn’t known about the cigar the detectives had found, but now that she did, she felt a little unsettled. This cigar butt was fresh and dry, so it must have been put there after the rainstorms. Had the killer returned to Moorecliff? Had he come back to the scene? If so, why?
Maybe he had forgotten something incriminating and had come back to remove it? But no—Hershey and his men had combed every inch of the garden. If there had been something, they would have found it.
“I’m curious, Hershey. The victim—Mr. Tuccinelli—was shot, and yet no one here heard gunshots. I, myself, am a light sleeper. Daisy, too, as far as I know. It seems to me we should have heard the shots. Unless the killer used a silencer?”
Ivan didn’t think so. “There were storms, Araminta. Lots of rain and wind. Thunder. As near as we can tell thus far, the murder weapon was a small-caliber handgun fired at close range. But I doubt any of you would have woken up or heard the shot, even as close as it was, if the killer timed his misdeed with the moment of a particularly booming shake of thunder.”
“But…” Araminta bit her lip. She couldn’t say as much to Ivan without shedding light on connections best left unshed, but she’d assumed gangsters would carry much louder, much bigger guns.
“Ivan, dear!” Daisy rushed into the parlor like a warm breeze on a sunny day, her smile lighting the room. It even brought an answering sparkle to Ivan’s eyes. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. Please tell me you’ve news? Have you figured out who killed that poor man right on our lawn, right beneath our noses?”
“Not exactly, Ms. Moorecliff, but we have uncovered something else. How did you know Joey Tuccinelli? We know you’ve been to his club—the club where he worked. Your vehicle was spotted on the CCTV recordings from the Lantern Lounge.”
Reginald strolled into the parlor and put out a hand toward the detective. Ivan shook it.
“Good morning, Ivan,” Reggie said. He strolled nonchalantly toward the sofa closest to Ivan and Daisy and sat.
“Ah, yes. Good morning to you, as well, Reginald. Now, Daisy—” he turned back to reiterate his question, but Daisy cut him off.
“I didn’t know the victim at all, Detective.”
Araminta watched Daisy’s fingers tighten together in front of her and knew she must have been thinking of possibilities. Even if she hadn’t known the victim well, he did work for Tony, and since she had confessed to them that she herself had an association with Tony, that did not bode well for her.
“But your car. We saw it on the street…”
“Which also happens to be the same street where Daisy came to meet me for a meal, Detective, at the Red Bull Cafe,” Reggie said.
Ivan turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised in question. Clearly, he was skeptical. The Red Bull Cafe was kind of seedy. He must be having a difficult time imagining a lady of Daisy’s character and high standing spending a moment of her time in such an establishment.
Reggie smiled. “The Red Bull Cafe? It looks rough. Doesn’t exactly cater to the highbrow crowd. But they serve a wicked-mean cheesesteak on rye, which Daisy and I love, and if you recall your geography at all, you know it is right down the street from the Lantern Lounge.”
Chapter Nine
Later, in the garden, Araminta was surprised to see Jacob Hershey rounding the corner of the manor to join her, his cat, Codger, purposefully though casually strolling alongside him. A fluffy black-and-gray cat with a bit of an attitude—much like his owner, Araminta thought.
“Good afternoon, Araminta,” Jacob greeted her. “I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by? I wanted to speak with you, if you aren’t too busy, of course.”
Araminta wasn’t busy. Weeding alongside Yancy in the garden was more a restful activity that gave her plenty of quiet time to think about the murder and try to piece together clues. But she wouldn’t tell Jacob that. She huffed a put-out sigh and got to her feet. “I suppose these weeds can wait. What is it you’d like to discuss, Jacob?”
His eyes twinkled merrily at her obvious pretense at annoyance with his presence. “The annual Moorecliff Cat Show. Will you be going forward with the competition this year, or have recent events forced a need to cancel?”
Oh, good heavens! Araminta had forgotten all about the upcoming event until just this minute. Her chin rose a notch. “Moorecliffs do not cancel, Jacob.”
“Good, good.” He nodded in time with his words. “I shall pass the happy news along to Daphne.”
Araminta squinted at him. “Daphne Burgess?”
Jacob nodded again. “One and the same. She came by recently for a visit, and while she was out, she inquired about the annual show. I do believe she’s interested in entering her Maine Coon this year.”
Araminta chuckled. “She always was rather fond of him. He’s a beautiful cat. We would love to see him entered in the competition this year.”
Glancing at Codger, she asked, “Don’t tell me you plan to enter that furball as well?”
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “I considered. But you know Codger—he would refuse, sheerly on principle. Hershey cats do not compete.”
Araminta almost shot back with a snarky comment, but then she remembered what had happened this morning, when Jacob’s grandson had paid a call. The detective was digging fairly deep into Daisy’s background, and she wasn’t sure she liked the direction his suspicions were heading. Maybe if she talked to Jacob, he could steer Ivan in the right direction, away from Daisy.
“Jacob, would you like to join me for a cup of tea?” Arun and Sasha’s keen senses must have alerted them to Codger’s presence because they came running from the solarium to join Codger, Jacob, and her on the lawn. “We could have it in the solarium while the cats have a bit of a visit in the garden, if you’d like.”
“Tea sounds marvelous, Minta. Thank you.”
If Jacob had been surprised by her offer, he didn’t show it. Araminta waved at Trinity and asked her to let Mary know Jacob would be joining her for tea in the solarium. A few minutes later, the girl returned with two delicately formed teacups and a matching porcelain china teapot on a trolley, which she transferred to the table, then she excused herself and went back to the dining room. Araminta was happy to note that she looked a bit more rested.
Araminta poured and they sipped at their tea, chatting about nothing in particular while watching the three cats cavort on the lawn. After a few moments of this, Araminta pinned Jacob with a look. “You would have preferred coffee, wouldn’t you?”
“It is more of a man’s drink.” He shrugged. “The tea is very fine, Araminta, but I don’t think it was the real reason you asked me to join you. What’s on your mind, Minta? This case with Joey Tuccinelli?”
“Ivan is also guilty of taking his work home with him, I see,” she said, pretending disgruntlement, but she flushed at being caught out all the same. “Much like his grandfather.”
“The boy’s got a good head on his shoulders, Araminta. If there’s truth to be found, he will find it.”
She could hear the pride in his voice. Clearly, he loved his grandson very much. But it was the recent murder and Ivan’s direction with his investigation she was concerned with at the moment.
“Do you remember how many cases we discussed over the years involving crimes of passion—like this one?”
“Women can be jealous creatures, if I correctly recall,” he said with a nod. When he looked at her across the table, the twinkle of mischief she’d noticed earlier was back in his gaze. “You’re worried about Daisy, aren’t you?”
Araminta didn’t want to come right out and say it. “I think Ivan is looking in the wrong direction. That girl—the victim’s girlfriend—she has motive. Jealo
usy. She also had opportunity.” What Araminta didn’t understand, however, is how or why the victim would have ended up at Moorecliff Manor. “Surely she is of more interest than Daisy.”
“You could be right, but Ivan must follow every lead,” he said then leaned back in his chair. “This reminds me of the Bucharelli case. Remember that?”
Araminta nodded. “Five suspects, all with motive and opportunity. Gave you a real run for the money, if I correctly recall... In the end, you had the motive correct but the wrong suspect pegged as the killer.”
“Ivan is familiar with the case, as well, Araminta. I’m sure he will think of it before he turns his sights exclusively on Daisy.”
Araminta felt ridiculously happy over his comments. It seemed Jacob was trying to reassure her he would step in on Daisy’s behalf with his grandson if need be. “Splendid, Jacob. I won’t mention it to him, of course, but the next time I see him, I will be sure to mention how lucky he is to have a grandfather such as you for a mentor.”
Jacob grinned. “How lucky you are, you mean. That the boy was trained under the best.”
“Oh, pshaw!” Araminta snorted, then gave him a look filled with all the gratitude she could muster before she said, “There you go again, trying to steal more credit than you deserve.”
Arun watched as Codger groomed his long fur, starting on his back and working all the way to his long, fluffy tail. “It must be hard to keep your fur in good condition.” Arun looked over his own sleek, mocha-colored fur.
“Yes, but worth it.” Codger fluffed out his tail and set to work washing behind his ears.
“Don’t you spit up more than your share of furballs?” Sasha asked.
Codger’s whiskers twitched. “Furballs help keep the humans in line.”
“True.” Arun patted at an acorn with his paw, sending it skittering over into the mulch beneath the oak tree. “So, tell us, what do you think of the case?”
Codger, finished with his grooming, sat up and wrapped his tail around his feet, fluffing it for maximum effect. “Case? Oh, you mean the murder that happened in your garden? Hmm. Let me think…”
“You don’t fool us,” Sasha said. “We know you’re just as interested as we are, and I’m sure Jacob must be discussing it.”
“Indeed. Well, I guess it’s no surprise that the Moorecliffs are under suspicion.”
“Why? Just because the body was found here?” Sasha asked.
Codger’s whisker’s twitched. “Among other things. I mean you do have an overabundance of bodies here at the manor as of late.”
“Coincidence!” Sasha hissed.
“Surely no one believes the Moorecliffs have anything to do with this murder.” Arun was a bit nervous about that since Ivan had mentioned seeing Daisy’s car near the Lantern Lounge, and Arun knew that Reggie had lied to give her an alibi. That did not bode well, but still he supposed the humans had their reasons, and he was certain it wasn’t because they were guilty of murder. “What do the police have planned? They must be looking at other suspects.”
“Don’t worry,” Codger assured. “Young Ivan’s feelings for Stephanie have clouded his judgment when it comes to the Moorecliffs, so I doubt he will try very hard to pin this on a member of the family.”
All three cats glanced in at Araminta and Jacob, who were laughing together over tea.
“Like someone else we know,” Sasha said.
Codger sighed. “Yes, it’s been too long since Araminta and Jacob have chatted. At one time, I thought they might make their chats more permanent.”
“I don’t know about that. Araminta is pretty set in her ways,” Sasha said.
“Jacob, too, but yet they get along so well in a strange way. They complement each other even though they disagree on many things. But apparently, they’d let their pride get in the way of a great friendship. Too bad they let their pride get in the way all these years.”
Arun craned his neck to see into the solarium. “Looks like they may have put their pride aside a bit lately.”
“That’s good,” Codger said. “I’m not getting any younger, and I’d like to see Jacob with another companion besides myself.”
“Go on.” Sasha swatted at him. “You’re only on your fourth life. You’ll be around to sit in Jacob’s lap for a long time. Now tell us what you know about the case.”
“I don’t know a lot, but you shouldn’t worry. Ivan has a variety of suspects, and not all of them are Moorecliffs.”
“That’s good news.” Arun settled down for a short catnap, keeping one eye slightly open and watching Araminta and Jacob. “Now we just have to see what we can do to help Araminta push him in the right direction.”
Chapter Ten
The seat where Jacob had sat for tea with Araminta had barely cooled before the doorbell at Moorecliff Manor pealed yet again. Daisy got up from her chair in the front parlor. “I’ll get it, Harold. It’s probably more flowers anyway, so it might as well be me.”
But no flowers waited on the other side of the heavy door. Instead, Ivan Hershey was there, his expression grim.
“We found Joey Tuccinelli’s vehicle. One street over. That’s pretty close to the place where he was murdered and stretches thin your claim to not be involved, Ms. Moorecliff. But that’s not why I’m here,” he said. Reaching into his vest, he pulled out a piece of what looked like paper at first glance and held it up for Daisy to see. “I’m here because I need an explanation. If you didn’t know the victim, never had dealings with him, never spoke with him, why then did we find your picture inside the car?”
Oh no. Obviously, Jacob hadn’t had time to point Ivan away from Daisy, Araminta thought. She got up and hurried over to have a look at the photograph Ivan was holding while surreptitiously checking on Daisy. Her complexion had lost a good amount of color, but her shoulders remained high and her back straight.
“I have no idea why there would be a picture of me in the car of a man I do not know, Detective. Perhaps you and your men should expend a bit of extra effort to find out?”
Daisy was trying to sound unaffected, but there was a tremor in her voice. Araminta knew Daisy was worried because of her past connections with Tony, but it was clear that even she didn’t understand why Joey Tuccinelli would have her picture. She peered at the image. Already, she had noted the photo looked damaged in that it was full of wrinkles, tears, and folds—almost as if someone had balled it up. The detectives must have straightened it out as best they could. What she couldn’t help but see, however, was the range of the subject in the picture. “It looks as if it were taken from a good distance, Hershey. Look how far away. And have a look at Daisy. Do you see what I see?”
Ivan seemed slightly irritated with her interjection. “I don’t have time to play games, Ms. Moorecliff. If you have something to say, just say it.”
Araminta’s mouth screwed up to keep her grin from showing. He was so much like Jacob, this boy. Determined. Serious, and yet at times, quite belligerent. “She doesn’t seem to be aware she is being photographed, Ivan. Plus, the corner of the photo is missing. Did your men miss it in their search of the vehicle?”
“We missed nothing,” Ivan declared. He scrubbed his hand over his face then said, “If there’s anything you want to tell me, Daisy... anything at all... now would be the time to do it.”
Daisy shook her head no. “There is nothing to tell, Detective. I have no prior knowledge of, nor affiliation with, the victim in your case, and no matter how many times you ask me about it, my answer will remain the same.”
Araminta waited for Ivan to leave before hurrying to her room to have a look at the corner fragment of the picture she’d found in Vivianne’s trash. She didn’t have the photo Ivan had found in Joey’s car, but her memory was still pretty good—the corner appeared to be a match with the missing piece from the picture Ivan had. The photo—in her mind, at least—was complete.
But why would Joey Tuccinelli have had a picture of Daisy in his car? And why would his girlfriend,
Vivianne, have had the other piece?
“If it’s any help, I’m wondering the same thing,” Trinity said from the doorway. “Pardon me, Ms. Araminta, but I was cleaning up in here earlier and saw the corner of the picture on your dresser. You got it when we talked to Vivianne and you pretended to fall, didn’t you?”
Araminta nodded.
Trinity smiled. “I didn’t think you really lost your balance. You are much too sure-footed and spry.”
Araminta was pleased with the compliment. “I figured it was probably attached to a photo of some girl Vivianne felt was stealing Joey’s attention from her, but I never thought it would be Daisy.”
“Hmm,” Trinity muttered noncommittally. “Do you think Joey might have been Daisy’s secret admirer? She was getting those flowers, but I don’t think any have come since the body was found.”
Araminta cocked her head to the side, considering. “I don’t recall any flowers being delivered today, now that I think on it, Trinity. Thank you. How very observant of you. If you hadn’t mentioned it, I might not have noticed, or thought it significant in any way, but now…”
“This could be motive for Vivianne to have killed Joey—Daisy was the one they fought about!”
Araminta squinted at the girl, a feeling of unease in her gut. “Daisy says she never knew this Tuccinelli character, and I believe her, Trinity.”
“Oh, so do I, ma’am. So do I. But a girl doesn’t have to know a guy for him to be obsessively attracted to her, does he?”
Chapter Eleven
Araminta spent a fitful night thinking about the case and went to the Solarium the next morning to figure out what to do next.
The sun streamed through the tall windows overlooking the lawn inside the solarium, pouring its warmth over the two puddles of cat that were Sasha and Arun. Araminta’s fur babies had curled up together in a particularly wide ray of sunshine and were half-napping, half-grooming while Araminta ruminated on how to prove Daisy was innocent in regards to the homicide in the Moorecliff’s hydrangeas.
Homicide In The Hydrangeas (A Moorecliff Manor Cat Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 4