by Sonia Parin
That sounded promising.
Joyce tilted her head. “It’s strange. I would never have picked you for a pickled tongue sandwich type of person.”
Pickled what?
The edge of Joyce’s lip kicked up. Abby must have looked sufficiently lost for words because Joyce went on to explain, “Queen Alexandra’s favorite finger sandwich. Mustard butter, watercress and ox tongue.”
Pickled. Ox. Tongue.
Joyce’s eyes brimmed with amusement. “You know, offal.”
“Offal?”
“The entrails and internal organs of animals. I’m partial to liver because I like pâté but it has to be goose liver. Although, I’ve become sensitive about the poor geese’s plight. So I haven’t had it in ages.” Abby’s raised eyebrows prompted Joyce to add, “I don’t care for the practice of force-feeding them.”
But she was okay with ox tongue. Pickled ox tongue.
“Well, dig in,” Joyce said.
Okay, so she’d grown up in a semi-rural environment, but her mom was a vegetarian and while she’d made sure Abby had a balanced diet growing up, she had omitted to introduce her to… unique dining.
“I might keep it for dinner. I’ve already had some of Kitty’s lobster sandwiches.” And Abby wished she’d helped herself to more.
“Oh, yes. Kitty Belmont won my basket. This year I donated three.” Joyce patted the car. “If you’d been here earlier, you might have picked one up.”
Meaning… she could have been enjoying lobster sandwiches instead of pickled tongue. “I should mingle. Otherwise, I won’t have a story to write.”
Doyle appeared to have a keen eye for detail. Wherever he stopped, Abby found a great photo opportunity. “Doyle, you’re officially my star cub reporter.”
A few people had ventured out to the lake on boats; the women twirling their parasols while the men rolled up their sleeves and made the job of rowing look easier than it surely was.
Abby held her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. She counted a dozen boats. Her gaze skipped from one boat to the other. Narrowing her eyes, she noticed one didn’t have anyone on-board. It was out in the middle of the lake and gently moving toward the shore.
Doyle came to sit beside her. “Does that look like fun to you?”
Yawning, he looked away.
“Okay, point the way. I need to have a decent stock of photos to show Faith.” To her amusement, children appeared to have abandoned their electronic gadgets in favor of the simple pleasure of hoops. “I bet anything the novelty will wear off in no time.” Although, they did appear to be more cheerful.
Abby made the rounds, stopping to chat to people. Along the way, she found a couple with a Joyce Breeland basket but they’d already scoffed all the delicious sandwiches. It took her half an hour to find the other basket, but she was again out of luck as it sat empty of all sandwiches.
Strolling back to the shore, Abby looked down in time to see Doyle pawning at his cap. “All right. I’ll put you out of your misery.” Stooping down, she removed the cap and gave him a scratch and some well-earned praise for being so well behaved. As she looked up, she caught sight of a boat disappearing behind an overhanging tree. “I think someone is looking for a secluded spot.” And there were quite a few around the shoreline, with little coves sheltered by trees and bushes. Yes, Abby thought, they’re definitely looking for some privacy. Most of the people going out on the water appeared intent on reaching the middle of the lake before turning back.
Doyle sniffed around the bushes and was about to disappear when Abby called him back. “I don’t want you wandering off. There’s too much going on here. You need to stay by my side.” She laughed. “Just listen to me. I sound like a mother hen.”
Looking over his shoulder at the bushes, Doyle whimpered lightly. Huffing his intention to disobey Abby, he took a step toward the bushes.
“No, Doyle. I mean it. You stay with me.”
“Abby.”
Abby turned and saw Faith waving to her.
“The sandwiches are fast disappearing. Come back before they’re all gone.”
Abby grinned. “Faith sure knows how to entice me… Not.” She waved back. “Come on, Doyle. We should at least pretend. Otherwise, Joyce will catch on.”
She strode past Kitty and Gordon and wished they’d ask her to join them but they were busy singing along to a 1920s love ballad playing on their gramophone. Abby guessed Bradford Mills had made a killing selling gramophones and old vinyl records.
“Charles has some smoked salmon sandwiches,” Faith said, “I’m afraid he ate all your pickled tongue ones.”
“Oh, Charles. How could you?” Abby asked, her tone mocking.
“I know a lady in distress when I see one,” he said. “Offal isn’t for everyone. Lucky me, I acquired a taste for it at boarding school in England. The cook was eventually caught pilfering funds. She used to buy the cheapest cuts of meat for us boys and squirreled away the savings for herself.”
Abby reached for her bag and drew out a small bowl for Doyle. Grabbing a bottle of water, she tipped the contents inside. “Don’t look at me with that woeful expression. You’ve had your meal.” She waited a few minutes and then brought out a doggy biscuit. “One and only one. The vet warned me not to overfeed you.”
As Abby settled back to nibble on her delectable sandwich, she searched the picnic grounds for Miranda Hoppers and her partner. She hadn’t come across as the type to back down and Abby expected her to make some sort of public nuisance of herself.
Couples were now finishing their lunches and getting up to stroll around the lake. Some of the rowboats were heading back to shore while others were setting off.
When she finished her sandwich, Abby drew out her cell phone and called her mom. Looking at Faith, she said, “I know, I’ve already spoken with her this week but if I don’t do a video chat and show her the picnic and everyone dressed up, she’ll never forgive me.”
She started out by showing off the car and then she introduced her mom to Charles. Her mom insisted she make the rounds and show her everything and everyone.
“Where did they all get their costumes from?” her mom asked.
“I raided the local theater group and I’m sure some people have trunks of old clothes stored away.”
“Yes, of course. I still have some of your great grandmother’s clothes, including her wedding gown, if you ever want to try it on.”
“Really? You never offered before.”
“I’d forgotten about it. It’s been years since I looked at it. I should air it out and make sure the moths haven’t feasted on it.”
Abby turned the cell phone and showed her mom the lake.
“I’d almost believe you’ve time traveled. Everyone’s done such a wonderful job of recreating the era. And look at those boats. Someone must take great care of them. They look like antiques. Are those houses in the distance? Can you move closer or zoom in?”
“Sorry, I haven’t mastered the art of walking on water and… Mom, this is a cell phone not a proper camera.” Nevertheless, she moved as close as she could to the shore without getting her shoes wet. They needed to go back to the props department without any scuff marks.
Looking around, she spotted the rowboat that had drifted off behind some trees. “I don’t have it in me to go for that scoop,” Abby murmured. She needed some sort of newsworthy item. If not a scoop, at least a bit of gossip she could exchange with Joyce. Her friendship couldn’t be all take and no give. So far, Joyce had been the one to convey information…
“What did you say? I missed it,” her mom said.
“I’m… I’m off my game. I need a newsworthy snippet or something of interest because...” She supposed she could say her reputation hung in the balance. Although, her job in uncovering the person responsible for Dermot Cavendish’s death should give her a good standing in the community for years to come.
Seeing Joyce Breeland heading toward the shore, Abby frowned. Another couple o
f steps and Joyce would see the boat hiding behind the trees. Knowing her, she’d even be able to identify the occupants. Abby had to distract her.
“What’s going on? Why are you pointing the phone at the ground? Is there something you don’t want me to see? Abby, are you there?”
Hearing her mom’s voice, Joyce turned.
“Tell Joyce I’m waving,” her mom said.
Abby waved the cell phone at Joyce. “Hey, aren’t you going out on a rowboat?”
“I want to,” Joyce said. “But everyone’s staying out longer and longer. I told them they were only allowed to row to the middle of the lake and then back so everyone could have a go.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “And someone looks like they’ve found a secluded spot. I included a note on the posters. There are children present, so no funny business.”
“I saw the boat drift toward the shore a while ago,” Abby said and felt a rush of heat settling on her cheeks. What had come over her? She’d never been in competition with anyone. In fact, she’d avoided sports all her life because she simply didn’t have it in her to prove herself better than someone else.
Joyce clambered up the slope.
“Hey, where are you going?” Abby followed her.
“There’s a path winding down to that part of the lake. When people stopped being able to follow the shoreline around the lake, they started trekking back up and around. Eventually, they wore out a path. It would have been easier to cut back the trees, but half the town is against it, saying there’s been enough felling and it has to stop.”
“Abby? Are you huffing?” her mom asked. “I think you’re out of shape.”
“It’s my shoes. I need to take care I don’t scratch them and that makes walking more difficult.” Although, Abby had to admit it wouldn’t hurt to get some more daily exercise. Maybe she could suggest a walking club…
“You should set up a walking club,” her mom suggested. “Make sure you stay in shape because after a certain age, there’s simply no getting rid of the excess weight.”
“I don’t have a weight problem. Mom, I’m going to call you back later on.”
“No, don’t you dare disconnect me. I need to see what happens next.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s obvious you two want to surprise the couple on the boat.”
“Mom, isn’t it late for you?”
“Of course it is. It’s close to midnight over here. But this is better than staying up to watch a favorite movie. I think I see the boat. Please try to hold the phone steady.”
Great. Now her mom was one step ahead of her too. Abby turned the cell phone to face her.
“Oh, dear. Why are you frowning?” her mom asked.
Looking ahead, Abby’s eyebrows hitched up.
“What am I missing? Quick. Point the cell phone in the right direction,” her mom hollered.
The boat was bumping against the shore and someone was in it. “Um, Joyce. I don’t think we should go any further. We might be interrupting something—” Abby frowned again. She could see the rowboat moving but not the person inside the boat.
Joyce must have reached the same conclusion because she came to a sudden stop and said, “I don’t like the look of this.”
“Abby. What’s going on?” her mom asked.
Doyle ran up and leaped over a thick bush.
A couple of more steps brought them up to the edge of the track. Beyond that, there was a strip of thick shrubbery but they could see the boat clearly now.
Doyle leaped over a large branch, disappeared into the bushes and then emerged again. He tried to scramble onto the boat but his little legs weren’t long enough.
Abby stood on tiptoes and craned her neck. “That’s a woman inside, and she’s alone.” And not moving. Her heart gave an alarming thump against her chest. “I’ll call you later, mom.” Abby didn’t wait for a response. She disconnected the call and, drawing in a deep breath, she called Detective Inspector Joshua Ryan.
Chapter Three
After raising the alarm with the police, Joyce helped Abby scramble her way to the boat.
“We have to make sure,” Abby said. “She might have fainted from sunstroke. Or… or she might have had one too many glasses of champagne.” Belatedly, Abby wished she hadn’t jumped to conclusions and called the police.
What if this turned out to be a big misunderstanding?
She hoped that was the case.
It took some careful maneuvering to move through the thick undergrowth. Along the way, her shoe slipped off. Bending down to pick it up, she heard a tear…
“The Eden Thespians wardrobe department is going to give me an earful.”
Reaching the boat, Abby tried to ease her breathing, but it didn’t work.
Her shoulders tightened, her hands shook. She had to do this. Leaning into the boat, relief seeped through her. She’d expected to be confronted with a face looking up.
“Hello,” Abby said even though a part of her didn’t expect to hear a response. She patted the woman on the back and then gave her a light shake. Again, no response. Finally, she checked for a pulse. She tried the woman’s neck and then her wrist and then her neck again.
No pulse. And worse…
She felt cold.
Abby scrambled back. “I couldn’t pick up a pulse and she feels cold.” Stone cold and stiff. “She’s facing down so I can’t tell if the lips are blue and, no, I didn’t recognize her. Not from the back. I can only say the clothes confirm she’d been attending the picnic.”
Joyce bit the edge of her lip and gave a stiff nod. “What do we do now?”
“Call the ambulance.” Abby knew the operator would guide her through the procedure and help her to check again for a pulse. When she’d called Joshua, he’d told her to hang tight as the ambulance was already on its way but it wouldn’t hurt to talk with an operator. They were trained to deal with these types of situations giving first aid guidance and… support. Abby’s breath hitched. She definitely needed support.
Abby circled back to the car, taking the long way around and back along the shoreline, along the way taking as many photos as she could.
Joyce had first hurried off to get her fiancé, Bradford, and Charles to stand guard over the boat thinking that if they’d stumbled onto the scene then someone else could too and that was definitely something they wished to avoid.
Bradford and Charles had then checked her vital signs and found none.
While Abby had followed the path down to the shoreline, Joyce had taken off in the opposite direction covering the higher ground where the cars were parked. She had retrieved her cell phone so between them they should have accumulated enough photographs to account for everyone attending the picnic.
“Smart thinking,” Joyce said as she joined Abby. “We’ll at least be able to place most people.”
And thank goodness for that. Once everyone realized what had happened, panic would set in.
Doyle stood by at attention, almost as if he sensed the imminent arrival of the police.
“Let’s go back to the boat,” Joyce suggested.
“You go. I’ll stay and wait for Joshua… I mean, the police. Someone will need to show them the way.” Abby had called Joshua on his direct number, but she had no idea what the protocol would be. She only assumed he would come himself, but for all she knew, he might have sent someone else.
She’d called him a second time and when she’d spoken with him, she’d remained calm but her voice had sounded strained. Luckily, Joshua hadn’t asked too many questions. In any case, she’d only been able to give him basic information.
A woman. A boat. No pulse.
Abby gave a slow shake of her head. Maybe he’d wanted to ask questions but had sensed Abby’s tension and shock.
Joyce pushed out a hard breath. “I’m glad someone has remained calm and is thinking straight.”
Abby didn’t mention the slight trembling she felt inside her. “Thank you but you’re h
olding yourself together admirably well too.” And thank goodness for that. Anyone else might have taken off at a run screaming. “Hang on. Do you have any idea how we’ll manage all these people? I’m afraid someone will pick up on my vibes and know something’s happened and then, who knows what they’ll do.” Curiosity seekers might want to take a closer look. At the very least, people would ask questions and expect answers.
“I think the police can take care of crowd control,” Joyce offered. “We really only need to make sure no one wanders toward the rowboat or tramples on footprints.” Joyce slapped her hand to her cheek. “I guess we’ve already done that.”
Abby supposed the police could work on a process of elimination. “We had no choice and we didn’t know what we were about to find.”
While Joyce returned to the boat, Abby remained by the car, thinking she needed to focus on pretending nothing had happened, at least until the police arrived. If she didn’t stop fidgeting soon someone would start getting suspicious. That remained her most pressing concern.
Abby made eye contact with Eddie Faydon who smiled and waved. She guessed the man sitting with the pub’s co-owner was her fiancé.
“Be calm. Be cool. Wave back and pray she doesn’t come over.” Abby didn’t think she’d be able to restrain herself.
Looking around, she didn’t noticed Mitch Faydon. Abby guessed he’d had to stay back at the pub to work. She turned her attention to making a list of people she’d assumed would come, but hadn’t. Markus Faydon and Hannah Melville both worked at the pub. Pete Cummins, the vet… Well, she’d heard say he worked all year round and was on call twenty-four hours a day.
There really weren’t that many people who hadn’t come, which meant they had the vast majority of locals attending the picnic.
If this turned out to be something other than a death by natural causes, then…
“Where’s your mind going with this?” Abby whispered under her breath. “Interesting question. If, and this is a big if, it turns out to be a suspicious death, there’ll be a lot of suspects.”
