“This place is enormous,” I said walking behind her through the central section of the house. When we entered the Great Hall, it felt like it was the first time I'd ever seen light. A giant conservatory occupied the middle of the room offering so much brightness I could barely focus. I noticed dozens of exotic plants and trees scattered all around, many of which I was certain couldn't survive anywhere north of the equator. “Did we suddenly transport to the Amazon? Who's their gardener, Martha Stewart's South American doppelganger?”
Nana D grinned. “It is beautiful, but don't be juvenile. Millard has the green thumb. He's the designer and inspiration behind all of this. He hired lots of help over the years to maintain it, but there isn't a species in this room he didn't select himself from the original location.”
Nana D had dated Millard for a few months sometime in the past while I'd lived in LA, but it didn't last long. I never understood exactly what'd happened to cause her to break it off, but she often mentioned his inability to be generous or treat women equally to men. He was charming and intelligent, but some old-fashioned sense of men being the dominant gender prevailed in his mind. Nana D tried to teach him how to be a modern man, but he simply couldn't abide by the new way of doing things.
“I could sit for hours and admire his imagination and creative genius. Does Millard live here, too?” I asked not knowing which of the Paddingtons had resided in the family home.
Nana D shook her head. “When Millard was passed over as the rightful heir, he moved out to allow Charles to occupy the family estate. His brother encouraged him to stay, but Millard felt their parents had made a decision for some reason and he had to abide by it.”
“Where does he live?” I knew Eustacia had been invited to move in with Gwendolyn when it came time for in-residence assistance, but she never did. Eustacia was too proud to move back in with her brother's family and had bought a small upscale condo in the newly-built Willow Trees senior living retirement facility. She was surrounded by other sixty-five-plus inhabitants who kept her young at heart and full of spite.
“Millard has a few houses. He mostly stays in a cottage closer to the Wharton mountains. He prefers to be near nature, but he comes back every week to take care of this garden,” Nana D noted. I wanted to ask why as the eldest he was never given the family estate, but it felt like too personal of a question. I'd barely been inside the palace and was already wondering who kicked out the rightful king. I blamed it on my love of English royalty and their order of succession.
“Does that mean only Gwendolyn's children and grandchildren live here?” I wandered around the immediate vicinity admiring the vivacious colors and shiny green leaves on all the lush foliage.
“Some, but not all. Why don't we head to the dining room and discuss it over lunch with Eustacia? She's staying here temporarily to help with the funeral arrangements and keep things running on the estate.”
I followed Nana D through the Great Hall and exited in the back right down a long hallway covered in famous paintings and prints. I assumed they were copies, but I wasn't well-trained in that particular art medium. Given the wealth all around me, I wouldn't have been surprised if one or two were originals. When we turned down the final hall, I said, “How's Eustacia doing?”
“Tired. She didn't sleep last night, and it's hard to keep everyone under control. Let her tell you all about it, Kellan. Sheriff Montague was here earlier today and shared some news which confirms Gwennie's concern someone had been trying to hurt her.” Nana D looked back at me with a heaviness I'd not seen in a long time. She pushed open the door into the dining room. “Drugs from some dirty hoodlum on the street killed her. It's looking rather scandalous and disturbing.”
Chapter 6
“Kellan's here. I'll let Mrs. Crawford know to serve lunch in a few minutes,” Nana D noted before leaving the room again. I didn't know whether to hug Eustacia or take a seat near her at the table as if I were a subject of hers. We'd known each other for years, but I barely knew much about her as a person. Occasionally, I'd run into her around town where we'd have a quick conversation, or that is, she'd chide me for something my nana had done, then direct me to get involved in sorting out the debacle. Eustacia and Nana D had some sort of symbiotic relationship where they often couldn't stand to be around one another but if ever two days went by without time for tea or gossip, the world might've come to an end.
“Did Seraphina tell you about the sheriff's conversation?” Eustacia pointed to a nearby chair.
I sat, then answered. “Not really. Just that it wasn't from natural causes.”
“They found traces of street drugs in my sister-in-law's body. Gwennie's never taken any in her life!” She fanned herself with a cloth napkin she'd snatched up from beside the table's fine china setting.
“So, she was right to be concerned,” I said with despair in my voice. “I'm sorry. How do you think it got into her system?” Could Nana D have been right to swipe that iced tea glass?
“It's rather unusual. Apparently, she consumed such a large dose of it yesterday, her heart couldn't handle the intensity. Dr. Betscha hadn't received the whole report from the coroner, but that was the preliminary finding.”
“Do they know exactly when it was ingested yesterday?” I asked tentatively. “Or what it was?”
“Not yet. It had to occur while she was at Paddington's Play House. She wasn't feeling well yesterday morning. Nothing more unusual than we'd seen in the last month. Seraphina told me you were integral to solving those two murders a few weeks ago. Is that true?” Hope materialized on Eustacia's face as she searched for answers, but I knew nothing about the situation.
“I suppose you could say that, but it was very different than what happened to your sister-in-law. In the last murder, my father had been a suspect, and the victims had been people I knew well or was supposed to be interviewing as part of my job. The sheriff should handle this one, Ms. Paddington.”
“Nonsense. If Seraphina says you solved the last murder, then you're capable of solving this murder. There are few things I will concede to that troublesome nana of yours, but she is one of my dearest friends. When she believes in someone, I believe in them, too. I might not like all the things that ninny does, but it's none of your dang business nor pertinent to this conversation, sonny boy.”
Sonny boy? I felt like a child again. I needed to say something that would show her otherwise. “You did try to make it my business when you wanted me to stop Nana D from dating Lindsey, right?” I shouldn't have used an accusatory tone while saying the words, but I felt like I was being tricked or about to fall into a trap. So much for obeying our elders!
“Don't you start with me about what I did or didn't do. This is different. I'm not trying to stop Seraphina this time. I want her involved in solving my sister-in-law's murder. Gwennie was like a sister to me all these years. When Charles passed, I only had Millard left. As much as I love my brother, he's not exactly sentimental and open-minded. I want justice for Gwennie even if it means learning someone in our family goes to the pokey.”
Nana D returned with the cook to deliver lunch. She'd told Mrs. Crawford to remain on a break and leave us in the room for the afternoon. While we had a delicious feast of butternut squash soup, rosemary-herbed Cornish game hens, and roasted Brussel sprouts, I considered everything Eustacia had told me. In the con column, I truly wasn't qualified to dig into the murder. I wasn't a family member, I wasn't a suspect, and I barely knew the victim. I also would get my rear end kicked from here to Timbuktu by Sheriff Montague if I went anywhere near another case of hers. In the pro column, I was a major crime buff. I did find the body in a manner of speaking, I had already seen a few suspicious behaviors, and the thought of digging into the Paddington family secrets excited me. I also would get my rear end kicked from here to Mars by Nana D if I didn't try to solve the case.
Since Mars was a lot longer of a journey than Timbuktu, and I was more afraid of Nana D than the sheriff, I settled on a compromise. �
��What if I agree to help, but you two are my front line of support on anything where the sheriff is involved. I value my life and freedom, and while I'm not afraid of her, she could make things miserable for me.”
“Kellan, no grandson of mine would be scared to do the right thing. You're on the side of the law, and that nuisance of a sheriff needs to be more tolerant. If I'm elected mayor, she will learn to take direction from me.” Nana slammed her fist on the table as further proof of her proclamation.
“Exactly. And Seraphina will be Wharton County's next mayor. Hey, that reminds me, don't we need to start preparing for your debate with Councilman Silly Man on Thursday?” Eustacia teased.
“Nana D, the sheriff doesn't take direction solely from the mayor. It's an elected position in Wharton County, not appointed by the mayor. I'm sure there's a partnership in that relationship.”
“What? I thought I could fire that woman!” she scowled. “Or that fickle fish DA!”
“No. I think if you're gonna run for public office, we need to get you up to speed on how politics work in Wharton County,” I said shaking my head for even trying to reason with the woman.
“Well, that's not good news. Okay, you're assigned to teach me how this county works, brilliant one. Let's start pulling our plan together this afternoon,” Nana D said with a slight irritation to her voice.
Before I could reply, Mrs. Crawford knocked on the dining room door and asked if she could enter. All three of us responded, “Come in.” We laughed when she arrived saying, “Well, that's a first. Usually Mrs. Paddington, that is, the last Mrs. Paddington, would tell me to go away the first three times I knocked. Pardon the intrusion, but there's someone here to see you, Ms. Paddington. New Mrs. Paddington, that is. Oh dear, this is complicated.”
Eustacia smiled at Nana D. “Since Gwennie's not around anymore, God rest her soul, there's gonna be a few changes in this house… starting with an end to all the rudeness in this family.” Eustacia turned to Mrs. Crawford, “First of all, you no longer have to knock when coming into the dining room. Second of all, what's your first name?” A bony finger wiggled in the maid's direction.
“Bertha, ma'am,” Mrs. Crawford said hesitantly, nearly dropping a dish towel.
“Third, there's no more sir and ma'am while I'm in charge around here. I might not have control once we find the will and discover who inherits this place, but until then, I've got Gwennie's power-of-attorney, so things will be how I say things are gonna be. Got that, Bertha?”
“Yes, ma'am. I mean Ms. Paddington… wait… I'm not sure what to call you?” she said scratching her head.
I watched the entire conversation play out in front of me as though I were sitting at a tennis match. We had a murder to solve. We had a mayoral race to win. Bertha had said someone was here to see us. I attempted to interrupt the latest volley but got the look of death and a hand held up like a school crossing guard's stop signal from Eustacia.
“You can call me Eustacia. That's what everyone I know calls me except people who are trying to suck up to me for money.” She looked generally in my direction then quickly turned back to Bertha.
“But I call you Ms. Paddington, and I'm not sucking…” I started to say but was stopped again.
Eustacia glared at me. “Didn't I give you the halt sign, Kellan? Learn your basics if you want to keep up with this crowd.” Then she turned to Nana D with her thumb jabbing in my direction. “How do you tolerate the likes of that one? He's full of hot air, vinegar, and prissy fuss. Oh, never mind. It's almost like the two of you are cut from the same cloth, Seraphina.”
Bertha's head jutted to the side as she took two steps backward. “Um, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have Brad Shope here to see you.”
“Isn't that Gwennie's live-in nurse? What's he want? Bring him in. He might be able to help explain a few things,” Eustacia demanded while pouring herself another glass of white wine. She spoke so quickly and assuredly, I wondered if she'd been a drill sergeant in the past.
There are days when I want to pack myself in a box and ship it anywhere but Braxton for another forty years. It's almost like once people turned seventy, they decided it's their right to do and say whatever they wanted. Now that I'd agreed to help solve Gwendolyn's murder, I'd have to deal with not only one ornery septuagenarian but a second who from first glance might be far worse than my nana. Why couldn't I have stayed back in Los Angeles? Oh right, the Castiglianos…
Before Bertha brought Brad into the room, I asked Eustacia to explain his role in caring for Gwendolyn. He'd been hired the previous year after Gwendolyn's husband, Charles, died from pancreatic cancer. Weeks had gone by where Gwendolyn laid in bed all day, ate the bare minimum, and stopped taking her normal medications. Although Bertha had done everything she could to help, nothing had changed. Over the winter while no one noticed, Gwendolyn finally forced herself out of bed and wandered the vast property all alone. She'd become disoriented, fallen into the stream breaking her leg, and suffered from hypothermia. Her family subsequently moved her to an outpatient facility rather than nurse her back to health themselves. Once she'd begun recovering from her injuries and the death of her husband, Gwendolyn moved back into the family estate. Brad followed suit as a private nurse she'd hired after meeting him through a friend who'd also been in recovery at the outpatient facility.
Brad stepped into the room and offered his condolences to Eustacia. He wore an untucked plaid shirt and mid-rise, stone wash jeans. His face was slightly rounded as though he still had some baby fat to lose while his dimples probably drove all the girls crazy. Mahogany brown hair was spiked at the top and shaved close to the skin on both sides of his head. I'd been considering a similar style for myself for whenever I found time to choose a new barber. “I apologize for interrupting your lunch, but I finished packing all my things. I thought I'd check in before leaving this afternoon,” noted Brad in a quiet voice.
Nana D asked him to take a seat at the table across from her. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“Not yet. I've been cleaning up Mrs. Paddington's room to organize everything before I left. I assume I should review any final items with Bertha?” Brad had a gentle demeanor and good manners. Although on the shorter side, he looked strong and capable of handling his role as a nurse and physical therapist.
Eustacia asked Bertha to bring an extra plate and insisted Brad have something to eat. “Do you have somewhere else to go? I'm not sure how your role works when a client passes away.”
Brad explained that he'd only worked at clinics and rehabilitation facilities in the past. This was his first in-residence, private client. He'd surrendered his apartment the previous year when Gwendolyn hired him to move in and take care of her. I decided to ask him a few questions while the opportunity presented itself. After explaining who I was, I said, “What type of services did you provide for Mrs. Paddington?”
Brad took a large bite, swallowed, and answered me. “It changed in the last few weeks. At first, I ensured she did her physical therapy each day to get her walking again. It's different being at home where things are spread out further and harder to reach. The rehabilitation facility does its best to duplicate home environments, but it's not usually enough.”
“Especially in this place, right?” Nana D joked while adjusting the braid on top of her head. “I still get lost at times despite coming here for years.”
“True. For one thing, we had to move her to a downstairs bedroom so she didn't have to climb the steps. Once she was able to walk on her own, we moved her back, and I prepared a new routine to help keep her body active but carefully protected from the possibility of another fall. I managed her medication and doctor appointments. We went for walks each day to keep up her spirit and flexibility. I suppose I became more of a confidante in the last few weeks once she needed less medical care.”
“What pills was she taking? I recall someone mentioning she had high blood pressure,” I noted while glancing at Nana D. From her smile, I knew she was happy abou
t my prying into the details of Gwendolyn's health.
“Yes, she'd been taking those before I started working here. After the accident, the doctor added more medication to address increasing hypertension and high-cholesterol. I'd also suggested she consider an anti-depressant in the beginning to help get her mind in a better place. She was distraught over losing Mr. Paddington. And since her… well, never mind, that doesn't matter anymore.”
Eustacia cleared her throat. “I'd appreciate you saying whatever's on your mind, Brad. My sister-in-law is gone, and I'm worried about how she was feeling these last few weeks. Did I miss any additional issues with her health?”
Brad shook his head. “No, I didn't mean anything… it's just… um, she was dismayed about her family and how they weren't bothering much with her anymore.” He looked at the floor and went silent.
“It was good she had you to support her body and her mind. What can you tell me about your visit to the theater yesterday?” I said.
Nana D interjected. “I called him when Gwennie started to feel unwell. She was struggling to catch her breath.”
“What pills did you give her when you showed up? Are you certain there wasn't a mix-up?” Eustacia asked abruptly.
Brad sat back with a nervous look on his face. His eyebrows raised and his lips stretched out thinly. “Did something else happen besides the heart attack? I gave her the normal afternoon medication, she'd just accidentally left them at home. She'd also been having a few panic attacks lately, which is why we were going to Dr. Betscha this week.”
I looked toward Eustacia. “I'm sure her family is worried about how sudden this all seems to be. I'm helping them look into her last couple of weeks to ease their peace of mind.” I knew Eustacia wanted answers, but she had to be more delicate in her approach.
“I understand. Mrs. Paddington was a special woman. I noticed a few things that didn't add up, but nothing too alarming. I don't mean any offense,” he said looking at Nana D and Eustacia, “But at her age we unfortunately start to see the body having trouble keeping up with everything.”
Broken Heart Attack Page 7
