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

by Loulou Harrington

  “Well…” Helen shifted her focus toward Sophia. “In a way, you can’t blame her. Her mother was an Oglethorpe, too, and Mandy was raised with expectations. She even managed to marry well, but then her husband died young and without a will. And by now his family’s money has pretty much petered out, just like all the Oglethorpe money. Some people resent the charity of others even when they’re forced to depend on it. That’s something my mother used to say, and I think she was right.”

  “Your mother was a very wise woman,” Jesse said.

  “Wise, maybe, but harsh. When I needed her most, she called me a heartbreak and a disappointment and left me to my fate. It was Amanda who sent me a bus ticket home, gave me a job and helped me to keep my babies after they were born.”

  “Where was your father?” Sophia asked.

  “He died in a plane crash,” Vivian answered in a voice softened by memories. “I recall that Amanda lost her brother and her nephew when a private plane went down in a thunderstorm. That was your father, wasn’t it, dear? Amanda’s nephew?”

  Helen bobbed her head and sniffed with the kind of pain that Jesse recognized.

  Only seven when her own father had died, Jesse still remembered him and mourned his loss. With a side glance to see that her mother was okay, Jesse made a mental note to herself that all the online research in the world couldn’t always tell you the real story behind some things.

  She also crossed Helen Oglethorpe off of her list of possible people who would ever do harm to Amanda Carmichael. When someone has rescued you in your darkest hour, you don’t ever forget.

  “Where’s your mother now?” Sophia’s question was whisper soft.

  “She’s in an assisted living condo in Tulsa. My daughters visit her occasionally. I can only hope she’s a better grandmother than she was a mother, but my girls and I don’t talk about her.”

  At this point, Jesse wanted nothing more than to turn around and go home. Poking through people’s lives seemed harmless until they began to uncover wounds that would never completely heal or to dig up buried secrets that were never meant to be shared.

  Being good at gaining the trust of others, of coaxing every last heartbreak and hope out into the open was convenient for solving mysteries. But if Jesse’s conscience was going to give her any peace, she would have to be just as good at protecting the people who trusted her.

  A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Jesse looked up to see Vivian beside her, watching her with concerned eyes. The fingers on Jesse’s shoulder squeezed gently as Vivian gave her a slight, reassuring smile, almost as if she knew what Jesse was thinking and understood her doubts.

  Returning the smile, and grateful for Vivian’s friendship for about the millionth time in her life, Jesse decided they had searched Helen Oglethorpe’s soul enough for that day.

  “Do you think we should meet this Mandy Landon first, or just move along to Bobby Don Carmichael?”

  “Well, with the boss gone, and only four of us here for supper, I imagine we’ll be having soup and sandwiches tonight. And Mandy’s probably taking a nap right now, or she’s out in the garden keeping company with Bobby Don and her son Frankie.”

  “Does she do that a lot?” Vivian asked as they began to move toward the back of the house.

  “When she can. She’d never admit it, but Mandy’s a country girl at heart. That’s probably why both of her kids prefer to work outside. Frankie tried school for a while, but it wasn’t for him. When he isn’t in the garden, he’s tinkering under the hood of a car. He’s our resident mechanic, and he’s good at it.”

  “You seem to like Frankie,” Sophia suggested.

  “He’s a good boy. He’s got a good heart. Mandy may not be perfect, but she did a great job with her kids.”

  “So, you like Celeste?” Jesse asked.

  The housekeeper nodded. “She’s a good girl—a bit different and keeps to herself, if you know what I mean—but a good girl and a hard worker. Ah, see, I was right.”

  Indicating the clean, modern and unoccupied kitchen they had just entered, Helen continued, “That’s soup on the stove. And I bet we’ll be eating a lot of beans for a while, too. This is the entrance to the backyard.” She opened a door on the far side of the large, bright kitchen. “If it was Bethany or Amanda showing you out, you’d be using the entrance off the hallway, but this is the one the staff uses.”

  Just outside the kitchen door was a stone pathway that cut through a vegetable bed on one side and an herb garden on the other. A neat, two-foot-high picket fence encircled each of them. Several rows of lettuce were thriving in the vegetable garden, while sage, rosemary and cilantro were joined by blooming poppies in the herb bed.

  “We’re going to miss Celeste while she’s gone,” Helen noted. “Frankie will try, but he’s not as good with the vegetables as she is. Maybe whatever bee got into Amanda’s bonnet will sort itself out, and they’ll come back before too long.”

  “So, this trip was unexpected, you said,” Jesse prompted.

  “Not just unexpected, it was completely crazy. I thought Bethany was going to have a nervous breakdown trying to get them all plane tickets on such short notice, plus get her and Amanda both packed. Nobody was ready. And nobody had any idea why they were heading off in such a hurry. Amanda’s owned that house for nearly two years now, and this is just the fourth or fifth time she’s been there and never in such a hurry. This is her favorite time of year in Oklahoma. Every day she’s out walking through her garden seeing what’s coming up, bringing in bouquets of daffodils. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “She didn’t give an explanation?” Jesse asked.

  “She barely came out of her room. Bethany was the one rushing around giving all the orders, shaking like a leaf, practically in tears. Amanda came down to take her coffee and toast in her study and then went back upstairs until time to go to the airport. Even Mandy said it beat all she’d ever seen. And speaking of Mandy…”

  Chapter Seven

  Following the direction of the housekeeper’s gaze, Jesse saw a woman laughing as she talked to a red-haired man dressed head-to-toe in khaki.

  Mandy Landon, cook and distant cousin to Amanda, appeared to be in her late 40s, which Jesse realized as an afterthought was almost her own age. But any resemblance ended there. Petite in height with a pretty face, Mandy had the exaggerated curves that other women might call overweight but few men would find fault with. Dressed in the same uniform as Helen, Mandy gave it a whole new meaning, and the man of the moment, Bobby Don Carmichael by the looks of him, appeared to be enjoying himself greatly.

  Several years younger than the woman he was talking to, Bobby Don leaned on his shovel handle, one knee-high work boot crossed over the other, hanging on every word the voluptuous Mandy spoke.

  “They’ve got a thing going on,” Helen whispered, with only a hint of envy showing. “But they don’t think anybody knows.”

  “Amanda wouldn’t approve?” Jesse asked just as quietly.

  “She’s kind of soured on romance,” the other woman whispered back. “When she hired me, and then Mandy and then Bethany, none of us had a man in our lives, and we were all needing help. Now she’s warned my girls that if they get involved with any boys, they can forget about her paying for their school.”

  “Oh, my,” Sophia said.

  “Kind of a grumpy saint,” Vivian murmured.

  Jesse agreed. A houseful of lonely women, plus two young girls forced to choose between education and love, sounded like fertile ground for resentment.

  Helen gave a snort that might be a smothered chuckle, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand and grew silent.

  A short distance away, Jesse noticed a dark-haired youth barely out of his teens. Short, handsome and muscled, he worked steadily with a hayfork, churning the contents of a compost pile. Glancing over his shoulder toward the flirting couple, he stiffened as he caught sight of the new arrivals.

  Determined to be friendly and nonthreatening
if it killed her, Jesse smiled and waved in greeting, only to see Frankie Landon’s big, brown eyes widen in alarm. He looked quickly toward the mother he closely resembled, and Jesse could hear him clear his throat all the way to where she stood.

  Once he gained the amorous couple’s attention, Frankie jerked his head toward Jesse. Mandy broke off her conversation and pivoted slowly in the direction her son indicated. Bobby Don planted both feet squarely under him and undraped himself from his shovel, clearly irritated by the interruption and just as clearly trying not to show it.

  “These people are looking for you, Bobby Don,” Helen called.

  Mandy stepped back, hands on her hips, and glanced toward the house. “I guess I should be getting back to the kitchen.”

  “Oh, no, please,” Jesse said. “Don’t hurry away on our account. We’re just here to gather background for a landscaping proposal Mrs. Carmichael asked for.”

  “Landscaping?” Bobby Don reared back, stiffening his neck. “We do the landscaping around here.” His demeanor turned belligerent in the space of an introduction. “And when Amanda wants a professional, she uses Daniels Landscaping, from over in Tulsa.”

  Giving signs of imminent battle, Vivian had stepped forward to stand next to Jesse, who was readying herself to head off a developing situation. Vivian wasn’t used to being dismissed by anyone and was the queen of withering condescension when provoked. But her attitude quickly went from combative to pleasant surprise.

  “Fisher Daniels?” Vivian asked.

  Jesse was as surprised as Vivian sounded, though she shouldn’t be. Amanda Carmichael was exactly the sort of society matron Fisher had built his career on. And this could be really handy for their investigation. Fisher might know all sorts of inside secrets they could never ferret out on their own.

  “You know him?” Bobby Don asked, relaxing a bit himself.

  “Know him?” Vivian said. “I practically raised him. And I taught him everything he knows about gardening.”

  “Well, college helped a little,” Jesse muttered. “Along with those degrees in Horticulture and Landscape Design. Oh, and that Master Gardener thing.”

  Vivian turned to her and arched one warning brow.

  “Okay,” Jesse conceded. “You are the one who got both of us interested in gardening.”

  Vivian lowered her brow and turned back to Bobby Don. “And we, young man, are the Myrtle Grove Garden Club. We had an appointment to meet with Bethany O’Connor and Mrs. Carmichael this afternoon, but apparently, they’ve been called out of town. Which is so unfortunate. It’s been years since I’ve had a chance to catch up with Amanda.”

  “You know Amanda?” Uncertainty had replaced Bobby Don’s bluster.

  Jesse stepped closer and took his hand in hers, pumping it in a handshake as she said, “Hi, there. I’m Jesse Camden. And this…” With her free hand, she indicated Vivian. “…is Vivian Windsor.”

  Jesse felt his jerk of recognition. She squeezed his hand, hard, to distract him. They needed him cooperative, not too scared to talk openly. “Vivian’s our landscape designer, and she’ll be making a few sketches while we’re here. This other lady…” With a nod of her head, Jesse indicated her mother. “…is Sophia Camden. Mom, do you think you could take Mandy…”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Jesse waved. “Hi, there, Mandy. It’s a pleasure to meet you. So, Mom, do you think you could take a look at the kitchen garden with Mandy and find out if there’s anything we need to know there? And I’ll just have a look-see around with Mr. Carmichael here.”

  Still clutching the hand that he was trying to squirm free from her grasp, Jesse returned her attention to him. “Is it okay if I call you Bobby Don? And you can call me Jesse. We just need to look around, and then we can tell Mrs. Carmichael that you were a huge help in her absence.”

  He frowned and his jaw set stubbornly. When he jerked at his hand again, Jesse released it, throwing him off balance.

  “What exactly are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “The Myrtle Grove Garden Club is considering Mrs. Carmichael’s estate for our Spring Garden Tour.” Jesse’s smile blossomed. She was genuinely pleased with her inspired addition to their story. She was really getting good at this, if only she didn’t burn in hell for her newly discovered talent of concocting fairytales. “In Mrs. Carmichael’s absence, we would need to oversee any changes she might want before the tours begin in June.”

  “I’ve never even heard of you,” Bobby Don protested. “I can’t just turn things over to you.”

  “Have you heard of me, young man?” Vivian demanded. From her tone, she was once again mentally preparing to melt him with her laser vision.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ve heard of you.” His gaze searched the surrounding area, then dropped to the ground without ever making eye contact.

  Frankie snickered. When Bobby Don’s glare shot back up, Frankie grew quiet, stabbed his hayfork into the compost pile he had been churning, and mumbled, “Think I’ll just go see if Mom needs me.” Without looking to either side, he marched past them going toward the house.

  “Vivian.” Jesse nodded her head in the direction Frankie was headed. “Maybe you could go make a few sketches of the kitchen garden while I talk to Bobby Don for a second.” Her gaze locked with Vivian’s, willing her to remember they were there to gather information, not start a fight.

  Indignation sizzled in Vivian’s sky blue eyes for an instant longer before morphing to a coolness rivaling the older Grace Kelly she resembled. With a nod of understanding, she flipped open her notepad and followed in the wake of the departing Frankie.

  Trying to retrieve his dignity, Bobby Don took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “We don’t get many visitors out here. And it’s been a difficult day. What can I do for you?”

  “Why don’t we just talk?” Jesse suggested.

  He tipped his head toward where Vivian had joined Frankie at the edge of the vegetable garden. Jesse followed his gaze, and a short distance further, she saw Sophia in deep conversation with Mandy Landon. Helen had apparently returned to the house.

  “She always that touchy?” Bobby Don asked. “And is she really friends with Amanda?”

  “They were both newly married and entering Myrtle Grove society at the same time. So, yes, they know each other. And Vivian does demand a certain amount of respect, if you know what I mean,” Jesse said with a shrug. “But she can be a really good friend to have. I imagine Mrs. Carmichael’s a lot that way, too. Bad enemy. Good friend.”

  “Yeah. Amanda’s not so bad,” he conceded. “I guess everyone here owes her in one way or another. Sorry if I overreacted when you showed up.”

  He sounded sincere, which made Jesse wonder why he’d been so resistant at first. “What was that about, if you don’t mind my asking? You’ve got a beautiful place here. So why didn’t you want us to see it?”

  He gave an uncomfortable twitch of his shoulders. “Thought maybe you were auditioning for my job. I like my job. I don’t want to lose it.”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t like the uniform.” And it was a uniform. Young Frankie was wearing the same khaki pants with a tee shirt. A short-sleeved khaki shirt was draped over a post at the corner of the compost bin. And Helen and Mandy wore the same shirtwaist dress in two different shades of gray—one faded, one new.

  “Yeah,” Bobby Don agreed with a snort. “Helen said the old lady brought that idea back from her first trip to Europe. I didn’t go to work for Amanda until after her divorce. But I suppose if Mrs. Windsor knows Amanda, then you’re familiar with why we’re all here.”

  Jesse nodded, not exactly sure how much she should admit to knowing. “Some,” she said. “The one I don’t know too much about is you. The way I understand it, you’re related to Brandon Carmichael, not Amanda. And yet, here you are.”

  “Yeah, it’s kind of a long story, but I guess it boils down to Amanda being friends with my mom when they were young. You want to stroll around a bit while we t
alk? Take a look at some of the garden?”

  “Yeah, sure. That’d be great.”

  They started down a path bordered by hostas that were up and beginning to leaf out, like tiny spears of green broadening at the top. Interspersed with the hostas were red tulips mixed with white jonquils and grape hyacinths.

  Jesse tore her gaze away from the passing landscape. “So, I’m curious. What did your mom have to do with Amanda hiring you?”

  “Well, after my dad died, it wasn’t long before my mom’s gambling ate up what was left of his estate. Uncle Brandon didn’t seem inclined to help any. Luckily, Amanda was still fond of my mother and offered me the groundskeeper job. It came with an apartment big enough for my mom to stay with me until she passed away.”

  “And after that, you stayed on?” Jesse asked, intrigued by a softer side to Bobby Don Carmichael than she would have thought existed.

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Why not? I didn’t have anywhere else to go. And I’m not exactly getting any younger.”

  “But what about when Amanda’s gone?” Jesse hated using the word dead. It seemed so impolite, even if it was accurate.

  “Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “She’s no spring chicken. But the funny thing is, I kind of like what I do here, and I’m not half bad at it. I’ve even been offered jobs by other people.” He chuckled softly and shook his head. “And I turned them down. I figure that Amanda did me a favor when I really needed it. So as long as she sticks around, I’ll be here.”

  “Wow, Bobby Don, you surprise me. You don’t look like an old softy.”

  He shrugged again. “Yeah. Don’t usually say things like that out loud. Maybe it’s because I’m kind of worried about her.”

  “Why?”

  “The way she lit out of here this morning wasn’t normal.” His brow furrowed. “Got the whole house in a dither and wouldn’t say why. I tried to ask her when I helped her into the car, but she just patted my hand and told me not to fret.”