03 Murder by Mishap Page 4

  “Need help?”

  “Sure, if you have the time. Aren’t you working at the hospital today?”

  “My volunteer shift got changed. I’m on bookmobile duty and don’t have to be there ‘til after supper.”

  Edna led the way along the brick path to the south side of the house. Benjamin jumped off the car and broke into a run while Hank brushed by Edna, trotting to keep up with the cat. Mary brought up the rear.

  The side door of the house opened into a large mudroom where Edna kept small gardening tools, bags of potting soil and an assortment of pots, including peat pots for seed starters. Goran would be able to put pots and all into the ground without disturbing the plants’ roots again, she decided. By the time she’d grabbed what they’d need and returned outside, Mary was sitting on the weathered wooden bench with her face turned up to the sky, eyes closed.

  Just as Edna was thinking she’d lost her helper to the cozy warmth of the late-afternoon sun, Mary’s eyes popped open and she smiled. “This was one of my favorite spots when I visited old Mrs. Rabichek. We’d sit here and she’d tell me all about whatever new thing she was going to plant that year.”

  Old Mrs. Rabichek was “old crazy Mrs. Rabichek,” Edna thought, for planting so many poisonous herbs and shrubs on the property. Of course, they could also be used as natural medicines, if one knew how to use them properly, and providing one could determine the strength of whatever it was one was concocting. Potency changes from season to season, depending on rainfall, sunshine and soil conditions. These thoughts brought back unpleasant memories from the previous fall when Edna had been a prime suspect in the death of her handyman, and she quickly dismissed her thoughts with a shudder as she held out a trowel to Mary.

  For the next half hour, the two women worked rapidly, filling tiny, organic pots with chive, parsley, dill and a variety of other herbs that had survived the winter beneath a blanket of straw. They were nearly finished and had a row of pots standing on the brick walk that bisected the garden when Edna heard the roar of an engine coming around the driveway. Hurrying to the front of the house, she was in time to watch a black-leather clad man dismount and remove his Darth Vader headgear. Goran Pittlani balanced the helmet on the seat of his motorcycle before coming forward to greet her.

  “Hey, Ms. Davies.”

  Instead of replying, she continued to stare in astonishment at his mode of transportation. “How are you going to carry my plants back on that thing,” she blurted after considering the vehicle for a minute.

  When Goran laughed, his eyes twinkled and vertical ridges deepened on either side of his mouth. “The saddlebags hold more than you’d think. I’ll manage. Show me what you got.”

  More than a little doubtful, she motioned with a twist of her head. “This way,” she said and led him around the corner to where Mary was swiping dirt off the knees of her pants, having finished pressing the last sprig of lemon thyme into a pot.

  Edna introduced them, and the two strangers stood eyeing each other while she studied the collection of newly-filled, little brown pots arrayed along the path. “Shall I put these in paper bags for you,” she asked, imagining dirt spilling out into the saddlebags.

  “That’d be great.” Goran took his eyes from Mary’s for the flicker of an instant. “Thanks.” His gaze returned to the red-head, who was an inch taller than he, and he smiled.

  Amused that Mary seemed to be silently taking Goran’s measure as well, Edna went back to the mudroom and returned with a box of brown paper lunch bags. As she approached the pair, she heard Mary ask, “What sort of a name is Goran Pittlani, anyway?”

  The man shrugged and, without answering, noticed Edna approaching. With obvious relief, he held out a hand for the bags. “Let me help you.”

  “Mary and I can do this, but I haven’t had time to get the mint. Would you dig some up? It’s over there.” She motioned toward what looked like a wild, overgrown patch along the stone wall at the back of the yard. “You can use this.” She’d made a container out of a slightly larger and heavier paper bag by rolling down a couple of inches at the top.

  Grabbing up one of the trowels, Goran strode off to gather mint while Mary placed pots into bags and Edna carried them to the motorcycle. Before long he strode back around the house, reached his bike and, with a swift movement, flipped open one of the leather saddlebags and slipped his package inside. Without a word, he then accepted the small sacks Edna handed to him and stowed them away as well.

  When Mary came down the path and handed over the last of the bundles, he picked up his helmet with a flourish. “Thank you, ladies. It’s been a pleasure.” Donning the headgear and starting the motor, he revved the engine a few times before holding up a gloved hand in farewell as he skidded along the broken shells in the driveway and disappeared onto the road.

  As quiet returned to the neighborhood, Mary turned to Edna with a puzzled look on her face. “Didn’t you tell me he’s your friend’s gardener?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How come he doesn’t know the difference between lemon balm and mint?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He had lemon balm in that bag.” With those words, Mary gave a sharp whistle. “Oops. I’m late. Gotta go.” With that, she spun on her heel and strode across the lawn toward her house. She hadn’t gone far when Hank came running across the back yard, tail held high and wagging happily. Lifting a hand in farewell without turning around, Mary called over her shoulder, “Later.”

  It was typical of her to toss out a verbal grenade and leave before she could be questioned further. Slightly exasperated, Edna shook her head and went to gather up the gardening supplies. Benjamin was waiting for her at the side door.

  Chapter Five

  After finishing her immediate chores, the most important of which was refreshing her cat’s food and water, Edna decided to take a long, hot bath. The morning’s strain on her back had been exacerbated by the afternoon’s bending and stooping. She’d soak her aching muscles and pour a glass of wine before deciding what to make for supper. On second thought, she poured the wine first and took the glass upstairs.

  She’d just lowered herself into the warm, lavender bubbles of her bath, had leaned back and closed her eyes when she heard the phone ringing in the bedroom.

  “Drat.”

  Keeping her eyes shut, she told herself that the answering machine would pick up if the caller really wanted to leave a message. She let the hot water sooth her muscles until it began to cool. Finally, reluctantly, she stepped from the tub, toweled dry and slipped into a dark blue, velour robe. One of her pleasures when Albert was out of town was to put on something really comfortable—sweats were another favorite—and peruse the refrigerator and pantry for a pickup supper. This evening, she made a Greek salad with her favorite lemon and olive oil dressing. Along with garlic, she chopped and added fresh oregano leaves to the dressing from a pot on the window sill above the sink.

  Taking salad and wine into the small office across the front hall from the kitchen, she sat at her desk to eat while she listened to the day’s phone messages and checked her e-mail. Benjamin, savvy to her habits, was already curled into a ball on the cushion of the guest chair beside the desk. As she had thought, the call coming in when she’d been in the bathtub was from Albert.

  “Hi, sweetheart. We had a good day today. Weather’s a little cool, but great for being out on the course. I’m about to join the boys for dinner, so I’ll call you when we get back to the condo.”

  Edna almost laughed aloud. If her husband had shot more than a mediocre golf game, he would have told her his score, bragging a little. Well, she thought, taking a bite of salad, this is only their first full day at the resort village. I’ll hear about the good shots in another day or two.

  After eating, washing her dishes and cleaning the kitchen, she went into the living room to sit in her favorite wing-back chair, don the half glasses she wore for close work, and pick up her knitting. She was listening
to an audio recording of “Middlemarch” by George Eliot and counting stitches in the tiny, forest-green sweater she was making for her newest grandson when the doorbell rang.

  The clock on the CD player at her elbow read 7:43.

  “Who in the world …” she pushed herself from the chair, frowning, and leaving her muttered sentence unfinished.

  Before opening the door, she turned on the porch light and looked through the fisheye lens to see a young woman staring steadily back at her, obviously aware that she was being observed. She clutched a large manila envelope against her middle. Frowning with curiosity, Edna opened the door.

  “I am so sorry to bother you,” the young stranger began immediately, “but may I come in for a minute?” Stepping across the threshold without waiting for an answer, she said, “My name is Jaycee Watkins. I just moved in across the street.”

  Watkins? Although she couldn’t recall the name Mary had mentioned that afternoon, Edna was certain it hadn’t been Watkins. Perhaps a married name? She figured the woman to be in her early thirties. Medium-brown hair was plaited into a single braid which hung a few inches below the nape of her neck. A few stray tendrils curled at her temples. Dark circles beneath her large, brown eyes were the only stains in an otherwise confident appearance. She stood in the hall, looking pleasant but unsmiling.

  When Edna closed the door against the evening’s chill, her young visitor seemed to loosen her grip on the envelope. “I wonder if you would help me?” She spoke the request both as a question and an appeal.

  Edna felt herself stiffen. Was Jaycee in some sort of trouble? She wasn’t acting particularly nervous, but she did seem tense. Without voicing her concerns, Edna simply introduced herself and said noncommittally, “What do you need?”

  Jaycee held up the envelope before pulling it back to her chest, seeming reluctant to part with it just yet. “Would you hang onto this for me?”

  Edna didn’t know what to say. It seemed like an innocent request, if somewhat unusual.

  Jaycee rushed on before the silence could grow. “They’re some papers that I don’t want to keep in my house … in case of fire or something, you know. I haven’t decided what bank I want to use in town, but as soon as I do, I’ll put them in a safe deposit box.”

  “Why me?”

  The question brought a tentative smile to the young woman’s lips and a slight flush of embarrassment to her cheeks. “I’ve been watching the neighborhood since I moved in a few weeks ago, and I’ve noticed that most everyone is gone during the day. There’s one woman who’s knocked on my door a few times. I know she probably just wants to be friendly, but she seems …” Jaycee hesitated, her flush deepening before she finished lamely, “a little odd.”

  Edna coughed to hide a laugh. “You must mean Mary. She is a bit eccentric, but very good-hearted. She’ll drive you to distraction asking personal questions, but she means well.”

  “You and your husband seem like nice people, and there’s usually lots of activity at this house.” She furrowed her brow. “I think if anything were to happen, like a fire or something, someone would be around to sound an alarm. I wouldn’t worry about my papers if you could keep them here for a few days.”

  “Well, I guess I could …” Edna began slowly, still hesitant, but she wasn’t allowed to finish.

  “Thank you so much.” Sounding as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Jaycee pushed the envelope into Edna’s hands. “I promise I’ll be back soon and we can talk. Get to know each other. You know.” Sidling to the door as she spoke, she opened it and slipped out into the night, repeating, “Thank you so much,” before she disappeared into the night.

  Closing the door, Edna stared unseeing for several heartbeats, trying to straighten out in her mind what had just occurred. Shaking her head, she finally examined the manila envelope. An inch or two of clear, heavy package tape had been smoothed over the clasp that held the flap down. The envelope was not overly bulky and felt to Edna as if it contained a thickness of standard-sized paper. Written in a neat cursive on the front were the words, “Property of J.W. If not collected in person, please phone …”

  Reading the number, she recognized the area code for Chicago. She knew the code because Chicago was where her sister lived. Edna shrugged, realizing she’d have to wait for another visit from Jaycee to find answers to the questions going around in her head. Stepping into her office, she slipped the envelope into a desk drawer before returning to the living room.

  No sooner had she figured out where she was in the little sweater pattern and begun to knit again when she heard the front door open. Did I forget to lock it? Her heart began to thump in double-time before her daughter’s voice rang out. “Hello. It’s me.”

  “I’m in the living room, dear.” Edna called back, as her heart rate returned to normal.

  The youngest of her four children strode into view and threw herself onto the sofa, facing Edna with a look of utter dejection.

  Deciding to ignore what she knew from experience was her child’s self-pitying attitude, Edna said, “You’re looking particularly lovely this evening. What are you doing here—and all dressed up on a Monday night?”

  Starling lived in the Back Bay area of Boston where she was co-owner of a photography studio. She was tall and willowy, having her father’s physique. Instead of his pale blondeness, however, she had her mother’s auburn coloring. Typically, she wore slacks and a pullover, but this evening, she had on a black, sleeveless, fitted sheath dress with a V-shaped neckline. Her straight, shoulder-length hair had been pulled back and pinned at the crown. A slender, onyx pendant that matched her earrings hung from a thin silver chain around her neck.

  “I thought I was going to have dinner with Charlie, but he’s working … again.

  Why did you ever fix me up with a cop?”

  Edna lowered her knitting and looked over the top of her glasses. “As I remember it, dear child of mine, you asked me if he were married, and he asked me if I’d mind him calling you. I said ‘no’ to you both.”

  Starling paused and frowned for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. “Got me there, Mommy Dearest. Your defense is indisputable.” She laughed again as Edna, smiling, resumed her knitting.

  “But it’s so frustrating,” Starling wailed. “He said he’d have the next few evenings free, so I decided to bring my cameras and shoot around South County for a couple of days. We were supposed to meet at that new restaurant in Narragansett. I was even on time, but just as I was pulling into the parking lot, he called and said he couldn’t make it.” She turned and fell dramatically sideways to press her face into a sofa pillow, muffling a melodramatic scream of disappointment. Coming up for air, she groaned, “He was assigned to a new case late this afternoon and told to get on it yesterday.”

  During her daughter’s tirade, Edna had turned off the CD player, and now she gave up trying to count stitches. Removing her eyeglasses and setting them on the side table next to the player, she said in what she hoped was a sympathetic tone. “Surely, you’ll be able to see him tonight. He has to eat sometime.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Starling pouted and clutched the pillow to her chest with both arms.

  “Don’t sulk, dear, it’s unbecoming, and your face will freeze like that.” Edna teased with a quote from her own grandmother who used to drive everyone to distraction with her commonplace advice.

  As she’d hoped, her child chuckled and regained her more-typical sunny disposition. Edna knew this daughter’s peevishness was mainly for immediate dramatic effect and not deep-seated petulance as would be the case with Diane, child number two.

  Of Edna’s four children, Starling was the only one who hadn’t yet married. She’d had a number of suitable boyfriends over the years, but at age thirty-two, she hadn’t yet found someone she couldn’t live without. Edna thought maybe her current interest, Charlie Rogers, might be different. For one thing, he wasn’t forever at her beck and call.

 
“Maybe if I commit a crime ...”

  Edna’s ruminations were shattered by Starling’s words. She feigned a look of shock. “But he’s a homicide detective.”

  The comic look of horror that followed her words brought forth Starling’s trilling laughter again before she sobered.

  “Don’t remind me. He wouldn’t be half so busy if he weren’t always volunteering to work with other police departments. His own work should be enough.”

  “Oh?” Edna’s curiosity was piqued. “Is he on loan again?”

  “Beats me. He never talks about what he’s doing. Now I know how it must have felt being married to Dad—you know, patient confidentiality and all.”

  “Charlie is claiming ‘patient confidentiality’?” Edna purposely misunderstood.

  Starling squinted at her, probably trying to figure out if Edna were kidding, then gave her a weak smile. “Of course not. Whenever I ask him about his work, he doesn’t say anything—just looks at me with those baby blues, or baby hazels, and raises his eyebrows. It’s aggravating.”

  Realizing her daughter was in no mood for further teasing, Edna tried changing the subject. “Did you know we have a new neighbor?”

  At that moment, the doorbell rang. Noticing from the mantelpiece clock that it was nearly nine, she almost smiled at Jaycee’s observation of the “daily activity” at this house and then wondered who would be showing up at this hour without phoning first.

  “I’ll get it.” Starling jumped up with excessive, nervous energy and headed for the front hall, returning moments later smiling up at and holding onto the arm of police Detective Rogers.

  “Hello, Charlie,” Edna said with surprise. “I thought you were working. Have you come to steal my girl away?”

  “She is quite a girl, isn’t she,” Charlie said, admiring the view as Starling moved in front of him to settle again on the couch. Sitting beside her, he turned to Edna. “Can’t stay long, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to see what you ladies were up to.”