by Lyndsey Cole
“That’s great, but can we find the bathroom now? Besides my curiosity of seeing if they have gold faucets to match all this other opulence, I really, really need to pee.” Meg danced from one foot to the other.
Hannah giggled. “Don’t get me started laughing or I’ll soil this perfectly manicured lawn.”
They leaned against each other and tried to contain their laughter as they headed down a path that led inside the house. An expansive entryway brought them into a marble foyer with rooms off to each side. A curved stairway disappeared into another level of high windows, textured ceiling, and closed doors.
“Which way should we go?” Meg whispered.
Hannah looked left and right. Of course there should be a powder room nearby but, instead, she pulled Meg to the stairs. “This looks more interesting.”
They dashed up the stairs before Hannah lost her nerve. Her heels click-clacked on the marble steps, but as soon as they reached the top, thick carpet muffled any noise. As they tiptoed down the hall, lowered voices emerged from behind a door which was slightly cracked open.
“We have to find it,” a man’s voice said.
Meg clutched Hannah’s arm. “Who is that?” she barely whispered.
Hannah’s shoulders moved once, up and down.
“The original is worth a fortune,” a different voice responded.
Hannah pulled Meg back to the stairs and they rushed down. She pushed through a door near the bottom of the stairs which opened to a powder room the size of Hannah’s whole office. She locked the door behind them and leaned on the wall.
Her heart raced.
Meg didn’t waste a second getting to the toilet. “Ahhh. Just in time.” Her eyes scanned the every wall. “Look at this bathroom. Marty Dunn probably spent more on this one room with all the marble and imported tiles than I make in a whole year.”
Hannah ignored her comment. “What do you think that guy meant by ‘the original is worth a fortune’?”
“Maybe he’s buying a Picasso or Renoir painting. I don’t know. What do rich people spend their money on?”
“Let’s wait here with the door cracked and see who comes down the stairs. What if they were talking about Dwayne and they had something to do with his murder?”
“Are you serious? I doubt it had anything to do with that.”
Meg washed her hands. “Is it okay if I use one of these towels? I hate to get it wet.”
Hannah took her turn on the toilet. “Use it. Someone will probably come in and clean in between uses for all I know. Or else this bathroom is just for show. Do you think that could be?”
Meg snickered. “I hope so. I’m happy to christen it for the owners.”
Hannah washed her hands. She cocked her head. “I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Count to ten and then we’ll leave.”
Meg put a finger up for each number, then cracked the door open. Two men walked through the doorway to the outside.
“That was Marty Dunn and Blake McVee,” Hannah said. She rubbed her chin. “If we can find out what they were talking about, if it was about Dwayne, we have two more suspects to add to Ebony Dunn’s name on the list of possible murderers.”
Meg’s eyes glistened when she turned her head toward Hannah. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road.”
15
Excitement and energy oozed from every corner of the garden party. Small groups held drinks. Waiters and waitresses carefully weaved in and out with trays balanced on upturned hands. Soothing music filled the background from the far corner of the garden. Aromatic smells wafted through the air from the many blooming flowers, and delicious odors from some unseen grill made Hannah’s stomach growl.
“Having fun?”
Hannah tilted her head and pursed her lips at Clara. “We’re trying to get our bearings in this maze. By the way, did you meet Meg?”
“Yes, at The Fishy Dish. Come on, I’ll show you around. It can be a bit overbearing your first time at one of these fundraisers, but I’ve gotten used to all the show of grandeur over the years and you wouldn’t believe how much money gets raised for the garden club.”
Clara expertly made a path through the crowd to a buffet on the far side of the garden. Platters of every type of food imaginable was displayed around a huge rectangular ice sculpture encasing lavender orchids. Bowls of shrimp, trays of scallops wrapped in bacon, lobster tails, and every type of salad Hannah could imagine were all her eyes could register before Clara handed her a plate and led the way around the table to sample as much as she could fit on her square plate.
“Don’t be shy about helping yourself, there’s always more where this came from. The food never runs out.”
Meg mumbled, “This could feed the whole town of Hooks Harbor with leftovers for everyone to bring a container home to feed an entire family. I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Take something so we can look busy while we do our eavesdropping,” Hannah whispered.
Meg heaped a king crab leg onto her plate. It draped over, threatening to fall on the grass. “Did they fly these in from Alaska?”
“Probably,” Clara answered. “No expense is spared. That’s how to get the big donors to open their checkbooks.”
It didn’t take long for their plates to be filled to overflowing with only a fraction of the offerings available. Clara led the way to a corner of the garden arranged with pub tables and no chairs. The three women found the last empty table and set their plates down. A waiter immediately appeared with a tray filled with glasses of champagne.
“Perfect timing,” Meg said. “I’ll take two.”
The waiter raised one pierced eyebrow. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back around as soon as your glass is empty. How did you even get into this party, Meg?”
Meg squinted her eyes and took a closer look at the waiter. “Kirk? I didn’t recognize you.”
Kirk laughed and cupped his hand around his mouth. “Your brother got me this gig but I had to get myself cleaned up. Not too bad, huh? The pay for one night is more than I make in a week after all the tips are included.” He eyed Meg up and down. “You clean up pretty well, yourself. I’ve never seen you with your hair pulled back like that. It looks nice.”
“Thanks. Listen, keep your ears open for anything you hear about Dwayne Dunn.”
“The guy that was murdered?”
“Yeah. This spread belongs to his brother and there’s something fishy going on.”
Kirk smiled. “Count on me, Meg. The wait staff is invisible to the guests at a function like this. I’m all ears.” Without another word, he melted into the crowd.
Meg took a sip of her champagne and listened as Clara pointed out several of the wealthiest guests. “I need to get back to circulating but I’ll check in when I can,” Clara told Hannah and Meg.
Meg was halfway through her glass of champagne and her eyes glowed. “This might turn out to be more fun than I expected. The champagne is helping calm my nerves and it’s beginning to get exciting trying to unravel what’s going on around Dwayne’s murder.”
Hannah savored a bacon-wrapped-scallop. “That was about the tenderest delicacy I’ve ever had.”
Meg shoved a piece of her king crabmeat toward Hannah’s mouth. “Try this.”
“Maybe we need to think about expanding our menu at The Fishy Dish,” Hannah said after she tasted the crabmeat.
“Nope. We have what ninety percent of the people want if they’re out for a seafood meal—fried fish platter, lobster roll, clam chowder, crabmeat salad, and hot dogs for the kids. It’s easy, satisfying, and we don’t want to get bogged down with all this fancy stuff.”
Samantha squeezed herself between Meg and Hannah. “I’m glad I finally found you two.”
Kirk returned with a fresh tray of glasses filled with champagne. “Are you ladies ready for a refill yet?”
Meg and Samantha each took one. Hannah hesitated and declined.
He glanced around and lowered his voice. “I h
eard something interesting.”
The three women leaned closer to Kirk.
“Ebony Dunn was bragging to some rich mucky muck that she is finally close to having control of Dwayne’s papers.” He smiled. “How’s that for starters?”
Meg bumped her shoulder against Kirk. “You’re the best. I’ll be sure to thank my brother for getting you this job. Nice work. Now get those ears back out there.”
Kirk winked at Meg before he placed a full glass on the table. “Just in case,” he said before he left.
Samantha sipped her champagne. “That’s interesting, because I overheard some bits and pieces of conversation between Marty and Blake, and the words Dwayne’s papers were part of their conversation, too. What do you think is going on?” Samantha craned her neck around and scanned the crowd. “Tell me if either of you sees Blake anywhere. The last I saw of him, he went off with Marty.”
Meg leaned in front of Samantha so she could see Hannah’s face. “I bet they went back to that upstairs room. Want to take a look?”
“Too risky.” Hannah held up a finger. “Let me think for a minute.” She took a small sip of champagne and nibbled a few more bites of salad. She chewed. Her eyes stared at nothing. “Here’s what I think. Ebony basically threatened me to turn over Dwayne’s papers that she thinks he gave Great Aunt Caroline. I think she was fishing for information but I can’t be sure. Clara told me Dwayne asked Great Aunt Caroline to keep papers for him. Do you think those are the papers Ebony was talking about?”
“Don’t forget that I heard Marty talking to Blake about Dwayne’s papers. Maybe one of them killed Dwayne to get ownership?” Samantha speculated.
“If it’s valuable, then, yeah, it would be a motive for sure. Clara said Marty got rich because of Dwayne. Maybe he got sick of being in Dwayne’s intellectual shadow and wanted to own the work outright.” Hannah used a celery stick to punctuate her comments.
“Who would get ownership with Dwayne dead? Ebony or Marty?” Samantha held both hands palms up as if they were a set of scales. “His wife or his brother?”
“It depends if Dwayne had a will, I suppose.”
“But what do all these papers add up to, anyway?” Meg asked. “You’re adding two and two and it might not even add up to four, if you ask me.”
“Good point.” Hannah turned to Samantha. “You need to find out what this is all about. Can you get it out of Blake?”
Samantha swatted the air. “Are you kidding? Piece of cake. He won’t know what hit him when I’m done picking his brain.” She threw her head back and tipped her glass, draining the rest of the champagne. “Okay ladies, Samantha Featherstone won’t be back without an answer.”
“You really shouldn’t encourage her. She’s gonna get herself in trouble one of these days,” Meg said. “She takes it all too seriously for her own good.”
“There are too many people here for her to get into trouble.”
“Right, but what about the ride home? Samantha came here with Blake. Did you think of that?” Meg raised her eyebrows and waited for her words to sink into Hannah’s brain.
Her eyes bulged. “You’re right. We’ll have to wait and follow them home so we can keep an eye on Samantha. She’s a tough cookie but I’m not sure if she could defend herself against a big guy like Blake McVee.”
Kirk stopped at their pub table. “Your elderly friend that was here with you the last time I brought champagne?”
“Samantha?” Hannah asked.
“I guess so. Anyway, I saw her tiptoeing up the stairs and she disappeared into the first room on the right. Just thought you’d want to know.”
“Was she alone?” Meg asked with a slight tremble in her voice.
“Yeah, but two guys went in afterward. That’s what I thought was kind of weird. Unless, you know, they were planning some kind of secret rendezvous. More champagne?”
Meg helped herself again but Hannah held her hand up. “Not for me. I need to keep my head on straight.” He really was the perfect waiter, Hannah decided. Tall, slender, and he moved as if he floated through the crowd carried by the gentle breeze.
After Kirk glided away, Meg came up with a plan. “All this champagne? I’ll create a scene to distract everyone and you can sneak up and find out what Samantha is doing in that room.”
“Is that the best you’ve got? Sending me into the lion’s den?” Hannah’s nerves were already at the tingling stage. She shook her hands to stop the shaking.
“So you want to make the scene?”
“No, you’re much better at the drama stuff. Let’s do it now before I lose my nerve. We’ll walk together toward the house. You trip and clutch your ankle. When everyone focuses on you, I’ll try to find Samantha.” Hannah told herself it was the most juvenile and risky plan she’d ever heard but they didn’t exactly have any time to come up with an elaborate scheme.
Meg finished her drink. “All set,” she said in an exaggerated slurred voice. At least, Hannah hoped it was exaggerated.
Hannah shook her head. “I hope that’s more act than reality.”
“Don’t worry about me, I know exactly what I’m doing.” Meg leaned on Hannah. “You’ve got the difficult role in this act. Be careful.” She squeezed Hannah’s shoulder. “I can see your Great Aunt Caroline’s determination etched in your face. You remind me of her more and more.”
They walked, arm in arm, toward the house.
Hannah felt like she was an observer of her own actions, which actually helped to calm her and keep her body moving forward on autopilot.
Meg twisted sideways and landed in a heap.
A loud moan made the people standing closest turn toward her.
Meg clutched her ankle. “I think I’ve sprained my ankle,” she groaned.
An elderly gentleman took a couple of strides and was at her side in seconds after the fall. He knelt down and carefully held Meg’s ankle.
More people rushed over to see the commotion, knocking Hannah away from her friend. She used the momentum to keep backing away before turning toward the house. She headed to the bathroom door. No one was in sight. She bolted up the stairs and listened at the first door on the right.
Silence.
She turned the handle. It was locked.
“Samantha?” Hannah whispered.
“Samantha!” she said louder and tapped on the door.
After what felt like an eternity, but was only a few seconds, Hannah heard a muffled voice. “I can’t open the door. I’m climbing out the window.”
“Are you crazy? I’ll get help.”
“No! Go outside and meet me. There’s a vine. I’m climbing down.”
Hannah hurried down the stairs and out the door. A big group of people surrounded Meg now. Hannah caught her eye. They exchanged subtle nods and Hannah moved to the side of the house, looking for the window and Samantha.
Samantha threw her shoes down and climbed out the window. Her bare feet searched for a hold on the vine.
Hannah clenched one hand over the other into a tight fist. Her eyes remained riveted on the body snaking down the vine. With only ten feet to go, Samantha leaped away from the house and landed like a cat. She straightened and threw her arms up.
Hannah wiped her brow.
Samantha jogged over holding her shoes with two fingers. Her face was flushed from all the excitement. “That was great. I wasn’t sure all my old gymnastics training would return, but I guess you never forget some things.”
“Is that why you threw your arms up at the end? Your perfect landing?”
“Nice touch, huh?” Samantha pulled Hannah down the path away from the crowds. “Where’s Meg? We’ve got to get out of here.”
“What’s the hurry?” Hannah asked, not at all sure she was ready to bolt from the party.
“I’m not one hundred percent positive someone didn’t see me go into that room.”
Hannah stopped and plucked some leaves and twigs out of Samantha’s hair. “See that crowd? Meg’s in the middle. Sh
e was the distraction so I could look for you.”
Samantha groaned. “We’ll have to leave her here. Come on. I want to get as far away from this place as possible before someone asks me what the heck I was doing climbing out that window.”
“No way! I can’t abandon her. Especially if she’s in some kind of danger.”
“Fine. Give me your keys and I’ll hide in your car while you extract her. Where did you park?”
“Extract her? Is that a rescue term?” Hannah hesitated. For all she knew, Samantha might spook and leave without her and Meg.
Samantha waited with her hand out. Her foot tapped a staccato on the stone. “Come on, Hannah. Times a wastin’.”
Hannah held the keys out and Samantha snatched them.
“I’m parked at the end in a dark spot. Be careful and don’t leave without us!”
Hannah watched until Samantha disappeared into the shadows. She made her way back toward Meg and pushed through the thinning crowd.
“Lean on me. We’re leaving,” Hannah whispered.
Meg struggled to stand as she leaned heavily on Hannah. “I think I really did twist my ankle. I can’t put any weight on it,” Meg said once she was standing.
“Hop if you have to. Come on.” Hannah wrapped one arm around Meg’s waist and gently urged her forward.
“Leaving so soon?” Marty Dunn stood in the path, blocking Meg and Hannah’s progress. “I was hoping to have time for a little chat with you, Ms. Holiday. Ebony told me you have something of Dwayne’s that belongs to the family.”
Meg hopped up and down, inching closer to Marty’s foot. With a big hop, she lurched forward into his chest and landed on the toe of his immaculate shoe. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I seem to have lost my balance,” Meg said with sarcasm dripping from her voice.
Marty’s hands held Meg’s arms as he tried to push her away. She took that moment to hiss in his ear. “Get out of our way or I’ll scream at the top of my lungs that you just accosted me.”
Marty backed off. His mouth fell open and his face turned purple with rage. “You wouldn’t dare.”
