Murder on a Silver Sea (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 3)

by Loulou Harrington

  “Spill it,” Jesse said, impatient for something that didn’t make Amanda sound like Mother Theresa. Someone had to have some reason to resent her. “What have you got?”

  “I can’t see that he’s any relation to her, but he has a criminal record. She put him to work as her chauffer, and then sent him to the Washington estate when she bought it.”

  “Criminal record? For what?”

  “Don’t know yet. My class started, and I haven’t had a chance to get back to it.”

  Outside the French door, brown leaves tumbled across the lawn, kicked along by a stiff breeze. The earlier sunlight was blotted out by clouds, and Amanda still sounded like a saint. “Have you seen any evidence of a business manager, or maybe an attorney?” Jesse asked as she watched the scene outside.

  “Nope. They aren’t on Bethany’s list. Have you looked at it yet?”

  “The list? No. Should I?”

  “She doesn’t seem to think much of the people she works with. And she doesn’t mention the people in Washington at all.”

  “You mean the ex-con? She didn’t mention a guy with a criminal record when she was listing suspicious characters?” Jesse asked.

  “Maybe because they aren’t local,” SueAnn suggested. “I just thought I’d mention it.”

  Jesse checked the scene behind her again and found Vivian and Sophia watching her. They looked away and reached for their phones just as she felt hers vibrate in her hand. “Is that you?”

  “Probably. I just emailed you. And I sent copies to Sophia and Vivian, so you won’t have to. I’ll see what else I can find when I get a chance.”

  “Thanks, kiddo. You get a gold star for all of this. I think you’ve probably advanced to lead investigator.”

  SueAnn laughed and the connection ended. Jesse started back across the room to where Vivian and Sophia were both engrossed in the emails they had just gotten.

  “Oh, good grief,” Vivian exclaimed after scanning the contents. “That woman’s supporting a small nation! And I’m beginning to think this whole thing might just be the ravings of a lunatic.”

  “Well, let’s hope it is,” Jesse answered from a short distance away. “Because if she’s right, how are we ever going to find a potential killer in the middle of all those people?”

  Chapter Six

  “How odd.” Vivian clutched the steering wheel of her Mercedes, frozen. “We’re here, and I just realized I have no idea what I’m doing.” Wide-eyed, she turned toward Jesse, who sat next to her in the passenger seat. “I’ve never questioned a suspect before.”

  Her words held a slight quiver, either from excitement or fear, or both, and Jesse felt her protective instincts kick in. “Well, first thing, remember that we’re just gathering information so we can decide if there could be a real danger to Amanda Carmichael or if Bethany is just, um, how do I say this?”

  “A nut job?” Vivian supplied.

  In the back seat, Sophia laughed. “If it’s any help,” she offered, “I leave most of the talking to Jesse on these little fishing expeditions. I just try to keep everyone calm and maybe fill in a gap here and there with a question of my own.”

  Vivian twisted to direct her question to Sophia. “Do you ever divide and conquer?”

  “So far there’s been no need. I have hidden so I can pop out and hit someone over the head if I think Jesse’s in danger.”

  “Ah,” Vivian nodded. “I’ve been there for that. Crazy old coot, pointing a shotgun just because somebody comes to his front door.” Her voice held disgust with no fear present. “Okay, I’ve got it. Make them comfortable. Keep them talking. Hit them on the head if I need to, and let Jesselyn take the lead.”

  Noting the subsequent crinkling of Vivian’s smooth brow, Jesse smiled in commiseration. “Easier said than done, I know.” She was well aware that her companion seldom yielded control of anything to anyone. Ever.

  Caught in the act, Vivian tilted her head and grinned. “Guilty. But I am decked out in costume. Maybe that will help. So, who do we attack first?”

  “Well, the housekeeper is Helen Oglethorpe.” Jesse referred to the email they had studied on the drive over. “The groundskeeper is Bobby Don Carmichael. And Mandy Landon is the cook. I guess we should start with the housekeeper and then move on to Bobby Don Carmichael.”

  Vivian held up a notepad and pen, part of her cover as a landscape designer. “Ready.”

  Sophia produced a pad and pen of her own. “Ditto. And I would assume those are the only two names Bethany would have given us as contacts. So I guess we should pretend not to know anyone else. Surely we can get Helen Oglethorpe to introduce us to everyone who’s here.”

  “Ooh, yes,” Vivian agreed. “Good thinking, Sophia.” She turned around to smile at the other woman in the back seat. “And I suppose we should act surprised to learn Amanda and Bethany aren’t here.”

  “Hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Jesse said, “but, you’re right. And remember that we know nothing about these people or how they’ll react.”

  “I think we should be sweet and maybe a little helpless and hope they’ll want to show us around, since Bethany and Mrs. Carmichael can’t.”

  “Well, of course, that’s how you’d feel, Sophia, because you’re just naturally nice and people want to help you,” Vivian protested. “But I am neither sweet nor helpless and neither is Jesse, although I am better at pretending than she is.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly, Vivian. I’ve seen you charm the pants off people when you need to. And Jesse can be very nurturing when she puts her mind to it. Slightly prickly, maybe, but still nurturing.”

  “I don’t quite know what to say. ‘Thank you’ somehow doesn’t seem adequate,” Jesse answered. Aware of her own limitations, she also knew that those same limitations were her greatest strengths when the need arose.

  “We love you, dear,” Sophia consoled. “Don’t worry about the rest of it.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Vivian said. “Your mother is sweet and charming. I tend to scare the crap out of people and have to work at putting them at ease. And you, dear girl, are the one who gets the job done. You’re very effective, Jesselyn. That’s why we make a good team.”

  “Thank you, both of you. Although that’s possibly not as comforting as you meant it to be.”

  Jesse took a deep breath and prepared herself to go ferret out the truth, while offending as few people along the way as possible. And if that didn’t work, at least her mother and a handful of good friends would still love her. “I guess it’s time for us to get to work.”

  “This is so exciting.” Vivian gave a slight shiver, then dialed down the big grin on her face, opened the driver’s door and exited her car.

  Jesse followed and stood looking around. The Carmichael house was whitewashed brick and newer than she had expected, with wide, wraparound porches. The second story was unadorned and plain, with dark green shutters on the windows. The overall effect was crisp and simple, especially surrounded by a manicured lawn outlined in knee-high boxwood.

  “Very formal,” Sophia said, coming to stand next to Jesse. “Not exactly our style.”

  “Gardens must be in the back,” Vivian commented. “They wouldn’t have an herbalist and two gardeners for a bunch of boxwood.”

  “Well, it’s very tidy, but…” Jesse’s voice dwindled away.

  “A little sterile so far?” Sophia suggested from just behind her daughter’s shoulder.

  “It doesn’t really matter, I suppose,” Jesse said without turning, “since we’re not actually here to landscape anything.”

  “Good point,” Vivian agreed.

  “Either way, this should be interesting.” Sophia glanced toward the house. “Uh, oh.”

  Following her mother’s round-eyed gaze, Jesse saw the woman who had just emerged from the house and now stood on the broad front porch, hands on her hips, staring across the yard at them.

  “Gentlemen, start your engines,” Vivian murmured.

 
Jesse stood a little straighter, spread her lips in what she hoped was a smile and gave a big wave of greeting as she started off across the yard toward the porch. Sophia and Vivian fell into step with her on either side.

  The woman on the porch watched with a furrowed brow. Of medium height, her dark hair was pulled away from her face and gathered at her crown with a clip. Pleasant looking in spite of her lack of welcome, she was dressed in a gray, button-front dress that resembled an unimaginative uniform and a pair of dime-store flip-flops in lime green.

  “Oh, that poor soul,” Vivian whispered.

  “Hello, there,” Jesse called. “Are you Mrs. Oglethorpe? Helen Oglethorpe?”

  “It’s Ms.,” the woman corrected. “And do I know you?”

  “We haven’t been introduced.” Jesse kept a determined smile on her face as she stopped at the base of the porch steps. “We’re with the Myrtle Grove Garden Club. My name is Jesse Camden.” She gestured to her left. “This is Vivian Windsor. And this,” she said with a sweep of her right hand, “is my mother, Sophia Camden. Bethany O’Connor asked us to come by today and meet with her and Mrs. Carmichael.”

  “They’re not here.” The other woman showed no indication of inviting them inside.

  “Oh, how unfortunate,” Jesse crooned in her best imitation of her mother. “Would it be possible for us to come inside and wait for them? I’m certain this is when Bethany said to be here.”

  “Yes, indeed.” Vivian flipped open the notepad in her hand. “Late Tuesday afternoon. It’s right here.” She tapped the imaginary notation for emphasis.

  “Well…” Helen faltered, sounding uncertain. “But… They’re gone. They left this morning.” She spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness, repeating, “They’re gone.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Sophia said, stepping forward. “We don’t have to speak with them at the moment. I’m sure you could help us just for today. Would it be possible for us to come inside and have a little talk?”

  “That’s a splendid idea,” Vivian announced. She started up the stairs. “I’m sure you could answer our questions and then possibly introduce us to the head gardener.” She reached out and took the startled housekeeper’s hand. “How do you do? I’m so pleased to meet you. I’m Vivian Windsor, and I’m an old friend of Mrs. Carmichael’s. Back when we were both young brides. But I doubt you were even born then.”

  Still holding the other woman’s hand, Vivian turned her toward the door. Sophia hurried up the steps to join them.

  “Oh, this is so kind of you.” Her voice dripped with sincerity as she opened the door for the other two to enter ahead of her. “I would hate to have made the trip all the way out here for nothing. All we need to do today is take a little look around and start drawing up our plans. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your stepping in to take charge.”

  “Take charge? I don’t even know why you’re here,” the other woman protested. “Are you sure this is okay with Amanda? She’s very particular. And…”

  Jesse swept in on the heels of the others, closing the heavy front door behind her. “Oh, now don’t you worry a bit, Helen,” she said in what she hoped was a good example of that nurturing her mother was talking about. “May I call you Helen? This is just regarding a proposal that needs to be drawn up and presented to Mrs. Carmichael. Absolutely nothing will be done without her approval, Helen, I can assure you.”

  “Well…” The housekeeper still looked befuddled and far from comfortable. “What is it you need from me?”

  “Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry!” Jesse looked at the others and laughed as if it were all a huge joke. Vivian scowled back at her as if she were out of her mind.

  “How silly of us,” Sophia chimed in. “What were we thinking?” Taking Helen by the arm, she led her into what appeared at be the living room, where she pulled the other woman down onto the sofa and settled next to her. “Why, all we need is just a little background information and a tour around the gardens, that’s all. After all, we are a garden club. We’re here to work up a landscaping proposal.”

  “Well, then, you don’t need to talk to me. You need to talk to Bobby Don.”

  Helen started to rise, but Sophia patted her arm and pulled her back down.

  Vivian consulted her notepad again. “Yes, that’s the name I have as the, uh, groundskeeper?”

  “He’s the gardener,” Helen confirmed.

  “But we also need some background information on the people who might be using the grounds and gardens,” Jesse explained, taking a seat in a chair opposite the sofa. “It was an oversight not to have explained that earlier. I guess we just got flustered when we found out Bethany and Mrs. Carmichael wouldn’t be here. Where did you say they’ve gone?”

  “To Washington State. To some islands up there by Canada. I was only up there once, right after Amanda bought that house. It’s remote, and getting there is a nightmare. Luckily, Amanda’s hired somebody else to run that house.”

  “Oh, my goodness, I don’t blame you at all. I think I’d feel the same way,” Jesse said. “Did she hire someone from here?”

  “No. It’s someone who’s from there, I believe. My daughter, Treena, travels with Amanda when she goes up there and said the woman’s a widow whose mother was the housekeeper years ago. Amanda’s a great one for gathering up strays.”

  Helen shook her head and heaved a sigh before going on. “I guess we’re all some sort of stray she’s rescued. Even Bethany O’Connor. And me. I don’t know what would have become of me if it weren’t for Amanda’s kindness. But that’s not what you’re here for, and I don’t know why I’m rattling on so. Did you want me to introduce you to Bobby Don now?”

  “Are you all right?” Sophia laid her hand over Helen’s. “You seem a bit harried. And I hate to think that we’ve added to your burden. Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “Oh, no, no. Goodness, none of this is your fault. Today’s just been such a turmoil. They had no plans to leave today, and then all of a sudden, Amanda just flew into a frenzy. She had to go, now, today. No preparation. No warning. Bethany was fit to be tied, and Treena had to go rushing around to get ready. And the cook’s daughter, Celeste—she’s one of the gardeners—she went with them, too.”

  Helen shook her head again. “That just gives them a staff of four up there. Hardly enough for a place that wasn’t expecting them and won’t be ready. And that Bethany’s no help. She’s good for nothing but chasing after Amanda and that darned dog.”

  Then, as if remembering that Bethany was the one responsible for the three visitors, the woman grew silent. After a moment, she looked up through her lashes and offered a weak smile. “Uh, I guess I shouldn’t have said that. Bethany’s a nice person. It’s just…”

  “She’s a friend of a friend,” Vivian was quick to reassure. “We only met her a day or so ago. She seems a bit high strung to me.”

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Helen agreed. “I swear there are times she requires more coddling than Amanda. And, Lord knows, Amanda requires coddling.” Again, she grew suddenly silent and glanced sheepishly toward Vivian, perhaps remembering belatedly that Vivian was a personal acquaintance of Amanda Carmichael’s.

  “I really haven’t had much contact with Amanda for years now,” Vivian confided. “And I do remember her being a high-maintenance person. I’ve always thought that might have been one of the things that happened with her marriage.”

  “That and a blonde half her age,” Helen said with a roll of her eyes. “But I’ve got no room to talk. She and Mr. Carmichael were very generous with me when I had nowhere else to turn, abandoned halfway across the country, penniless and pregnant with twins. I tell you…”

  Her words warbled to a halt and she sniffed as she blinked back tears. “I could kiss the ground that woman walks on every day when I look at the house I live in and two daughters grown and starting their own lives. My Trisha is in college.” She held her head high and smiled. “College! Can you belie
ve that? Amanda is paying for it. And my Treena is learning to cook, and when she’s ready to go to culinary school, Amanda’s paying for that, too. She’s a saint, I don’t mind telling you. In her demanding, self-centered, irritating way, Amanda Carmichael is a saint.”

  Helen took a shaky breath and stood. “Well, there I go again, running on. I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.” She pressed a palm to her cheek and shook her head, seeming flustered by her actions. “I think it’s time I took you to meet Bobby Don—he’ll be able to help you. If he’s willing.”

  “Please don’t feel bad,” Jesse said. “Your stories are fascinating. And all these little insights help us in creating a garden plan everyone here can enjoy.”

  “You must be very proud of your daughters,” Sophia added.

  “Oh, I am. They’re the blessing that makes everything worthwhile.”

  “Are there others who work with Bobby Don?” Jesse asked. “I’m sure you said, but I guess until I meet them, I won’t be able to keep everyone straight. You mentioned a…”

  “Celeste,” Vivian supplied, again referencing the notepad she held. “The cook’s daughter. So, your daughter Treena is working with the cook, and the cook’s daughter is working with the gardener. What an opportunity for cross training. It would seem that quite a few people are indebted to our Amanda.”

  “Everyone here,” Helen agreed with a bob of her head. “Not that everyone has the gratitude they should. Not so much Bobby Don—he just likes to complain. Not happy unless he’s unhappy, Miss Bethany likes to say.”

  “And you have a cook here? I don’t believe I have her name,” Jesse said. “Is there a kitchen garden, perhaps out back? That’s the sort of thing we need to include in our garden plan, if there is.”

  Her hands clasped at her waist, Helen gave another quick head bob of assent. “Indeed we do. Mandy Landon is in charge of the kitchen. Her cooking’s not fancy, but we get by. Shame I can’t say the same about her attitude.”

  “Oh, how awful,” Sophia crooned sympathetically. “Is she one of the ones who doesn’t appreciate all that Amanda’s done?”