Murder, Mayhem and Bliss (Myrtle Grove Garden Club Mystery Book 1)

by Loulou Harrington

  “So turn on the radio, or, hell, get a TV in your autopsy room. I don’t care. You just better be wrist deep in this man while you’re watching.”

  At the arbor entrance to the pool, Joe paused in his rush to leave and turned his attention back to Frank, who, with Todd, was already poking through the bushes in the area where the cell phone should have been. “One more thing. I’ll be sending Marla out with a camera, to take some pictures of the scene.”

  Frank stopped and raised his head from the shrubbery. “What scene? This place looks like it’s ready for a magazine shoot.”

  Joe forced himself to take a deep breath and count to three. That was all the patience he had. “Things like a cell phone in the bushes, Frank. I want a picture of it before you take it out. I want it bagged and tagged for fingerprints. I want everything in this area photographed.”

  He swung his index finger in a circle for emphasis. “Somewhere here, there’s some indication of what happened. Maybe the camera will see something we can’t.”

  Frank straightened, suddenly as focused as a bird dog on point. “I gotcha. Backup documentation on everything. Cause we can’t afford to miss or misread anything.”

  Joe nodded, pleased with the other man’s understanding. “I believe you do have it.” With a parting wave over his shoulder, he exited through the arbor, calling as he went, “Because from what you guys just told me, that body belongs to the next best thing to Vivian Windsor’s son-in-law. And if that old harridan decides to sink her teeth into us, we’re all going to be needing rabies shots.”

  ∙∙∙•••●●●•••∙∙∙

  Vivian carried a cold bottle of champagne, freshly uncorked. Bliss followed in her wake, balancing a tray loaded with two champagne flutes, side plates, and a platter of cheese, nuts, and chocolate truffles. They had searched the refrigerator for strawberries Vivian was sure should be in there, but had finally given up and continued without them.

  Through the library, the sunroom, and out into the side garden they went, to where the bright Oklahoma sun was rapidly climbing high in a cloudless sky, and the early morning chill rapidly waned. But ancient trees kept the garden shaded, and a steady breeze chased away any heat that tried to accumulate. Vivian drew in a deep, satisfied breath and took her usual seat on a padded, wrought-iron chaise that was as well worn and durable as the stone pavers beneath it.

  Bliss set her tray on a small side table and dropped into a chaise identical to her aunt’s. “Lord, I love this place,” she said, breathing in the scent of the English roses that bloomed nearby. “I tried to replicate it in my garden.” She let her breath out in a sigh and drew in another long, slow lungful of sweet musk and honey. “But some things only come with time.”

  Vivian placed her champagne bottle on the table between them. “Would you do the honors, dear?”

  “Of course.” Bliss flashed a smile, evidence that the half of a low-dosage pill her aunt had supplied was kicking in.

  “Don’t put too much in yours,” Vivian cautioned, then waggled a finger toward the tray that sat handily between them. “And be sure you eat something. I want you relaxed, but if you pass out, you’re just going to have to lay there.”

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Viv. I promise not to do anything worse than take a nice, long nap in my lounge chair.” Bliss poured the champagne, careful not to squander the bubbles. Handing a flute to her aunt and keeping one for herself, she raised her glass in a toast. “Here’s to an afternoon of champagne and chocolate with my favorite person in the whole world.”

  “My sentiments exactly,” Vivian agreed. Crystal chimed softly as the two glasses tapped together. After one decorous swallow, they exchanged glances and drained the rest in a long, unbroken drink.

  “Wow,” Bliss said, pouring them each another round. “That is an excellent vintage, Aunt Viv. Don’t tell me it’s still some of Uncle Malcolm’s stash.”

  “No, that’s all gone now.” Vivian grinned in appreciation over the top of her crystal flute. “But I’ve started a new stash of my own. And I’m very flattered you couldn’t tell it from Malcolm’s.” She picked up a piece of cheese and nibbled at the edge. A faraway look stole into her eyes. “You know, I was just a little know-nothing girl from the country when I met Malcolm. I wouldn’t have been the same person without him.”

  “I think a lot of us could say that about the people we marry.” Bliss lifted her champagne in a mock toast. “It’s just that not all of us can say it as a positive thing.” With a shrug, she drained the glass again. “Damn, that’s good.”

  Vivian started to suggest that she slow down, then gave a mental shrug. Maybe what Bliss needed more than anything was to face the truth. And that was obviously not easy for her. There was a time when Harold Kerr was young and a much nicer person than he had become with age and success. And it was hard for a gentle, generous soul like Bliss to let go of the loyalty she still felt to the boy she had married.

  “Have a chocolate,” Vivian said instead, reaching over to refill the empty flute in her niece’s hand. “The one with the red drizzle on it is raspberry filled. Oh, and that really dark one has a rum-flavored center.” She took one herself and bit in, savoring the burst of orange mingled with the dark chocolate, then followed it with a long drink of champagne.

  She tried not to overdo the small groan of pleasure that came after, but it wasn’t easy. A dry brut, chocolates, and a good book, especially surrounded by a riotously blooming garden, were just about her favorite indulgences in the whole world. A soft chuckle interrupted her short reverie and she turned to see Bliss’s smiling eyes looking back at her.

  “At my age, you take your pleasure where you can find it,” Vivian said with a haughty lift of her brow.

  “At any age, you take your pleasure where you can find it, if you’ve got any sense,” Bliss corrected. “You taught me that a long time ago.” She sighed again. “It’s just hard to remember it sometimes.”

  “Growing older helps,” Vivian consoled. “There aren’t so many choices getting in your way.”

  Bliss laughed, and the two shared another round of chocolate washed down by champagne. Then they varied it with some cheese and nuts, and Vivian began to wish it was a weekday so she could send Dottie for another bottle because this one was almost gone.

  But Dottie was no spring chicken, either, so Vivian limited her old friend’s work schedule to half days and no weekends. That gave Vivian the help around the house that she needed and gave Dottie an extra paycheck to stretch her social security. It also gave them both the companionship they would dearly miss if Vivian were to give the job to someone younger. But that didn’t help on a Saturday when she needed someone to run small errands for her.

  Vivian looked behind her and gauged the distance into and through the house to where a second bottle was chilling in the refrigerator. Then she looked at Bliss who had had a glass or two more, plus half of a light tranquilizer. Coffee might be a better choice than more champagne, but someone would still have to get up and go after it.

  Just then a face appeared over the top of the wooden gate several yards behind Bliss’s left shoulder. Vivian blinked in surprise and realized she was staring at the smiling face of Jesselyn Camden, visible only from the chin up. A hand appeared, level with the head, and waved in silent greeting.

  “What are you looking at?” Bliss asked, noticing the shift in her aunt’s attention.

  “Jesselyn,” Vivian answered, perplexed. No one ever just dropped by without calling first or being invited. It just wasn’t done. Now, she’d had two unexpected visitors in one morning, and she could only hope there was no great drama prompting this second visit as well.

  “Jesselyn, dear,” Vivian called. “What a wonderful surprise.” She forced a welcoming cheer at odds with her unease and waved the younger woman inside. Jesse opened the gate and approached quickly. “Bliss, you remember Jesselyn, don’t you? And you’ve met Bliss, haven’t you

  “I certainly have. It’s nice to s
ee you again,” Jesse greeted Bliss as she came to a halt in front of the two slightly glassy-eyed women.

  Her gaze flickered to the nearly empty bottle of champagne on the table, but neither of the two seemed distraught or worried. Possibly the police visit to Bliss’s home was no big deal, or else they neither one knew about it yet.

  “Hi,” Bliss answered brightly. “I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s so nice of you to drop by.” Her hand drifted over the platter and bottle next to her. “Would you like some champagne, or a snack?”

  “Oh, probably not right now.” Jesse glanced quickly at her watch and confirmed that it was, indeed, ten-fifteen in the morning. “But thank you for asking.”

  Curiosity hammered at her, but she couldn’t just start asking questions, as much as she wanted to. Something about the whole scene was off kilter. For one thing, Vivian did not normally get tipsy before breakfast. And everything Jesse had ever heard about Bliss painted her as strait-laced as they came, which wouldn’t be your first thought on seeing her. With her blond hair and plush figure, Bliss Kerr was a 1950’s bombshell replica in pulsing Technicolor.

  “Jesselyn, dear,” Vivian said, interrupting Jesse’s reverie and jerking her attention several decades forward. “It had occurred to me just before you got here that a pot of coffee would be just the thing about now. But I didn’t really want to leave and go make it. So I was wondering, if it wouldn’t be…”

  Waiting for Vivian to work her way through the request was too much for Jesse’s limited patience. “Would you like me to fix a pot and bring it out?” she asked politely, since they were all apparently on their best manners at the moment.

  “That would be so nice,” Vivian said much too kindly. “Thank you.”

  Jesse walked around behind Bliss’s chair, caught Vivian’s eye, and lifted her shoulders, arms extended, in a blatantly questioning shrug. It was as clear a nonverbal “What the hell is going on?” as she could manage.

  Vivian smiled, ignoring her. “Don’t forget to bring three cups and some cream.”

  Jesse glared at her friend in as clear a nonverbal “I run a coffee house and know how to serve coffee,” as she could manage.

  Vivian continued to smile serenely, and Jesse’s curiosity burned ever hotter as she turned and tried not to stomp all the way into the house and through to the kitchen. Something was up, but it was apparently nothing Vivian intended to broach in Bliss’s presence. Which would indicate that it was something uncomfortable, possibly embarrassing, but that no one was dead. Maybe.

  Her head spinning with possibilities, and almost wishing she hadn’t come all this way just to make sure Vivian was all right, Jesse assembled a tray with the English china coffee service she had given to Vivian for her seventieth birthday. She included the cream pitcher filled with fat free half-and-half and filled the small, open sugar bowl, something neither she nor Vivian would use, just in case Bliss liked her coffee sweet.

  Making her way back across the marble floors of the house’s common areas, lugging a tray loaded with delicately tinkling bone china, Jesse was thankful for the experience she had gained waiting tables at the Gilded Lily. A few years earlier, this was a feat she would never have attempted. She was doubly thankful when she exited the house and pulled to an abrupt, startled halt at the sight of Sheriff Joe Tyler standing at the foot of Bliss Kerr’s chaise lounge.

  “Holy crap.” She started to crouch, then realized she couldn’t while holding the tray. Maybe if she just stood very, very still, he wouldn’t see her and then she could avoid him altogether.

  From the look on his face, she could tell he had already noticed the cheerful inebriation of the two women before him. And from the expressions on their faces, she knew they didn’t have a clue as to why he was there. Oh, well, she was just going to have to suck it up and make the best of it. She had come to make sure Vivian was all right, and that was what she was going to do.

  “Well, hi there, Sheriff,” Jesse called brightly. Hitching the tray higher, she stepped out of the shadows of the house. “You’re just in time for coffee.”

  Chapter Three

  Joe Tyler lifted his gaze and glared at her, clearly not pleased with her arrival.

  “Could you do me a big favor and move that tray from the side table to that coffee table behind you?” Jesse held the heavy tray out in front of her for emphasis. “So I can put this down where that stuff is now?”

  Not hesitating, she headed for the smaller table, hoping to leave him no choice but to move the other things off. Reluctantly, he did as she had asked just in time for her to set the new tray down between Bliss and Vivian.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Still smiling, Jesse lifted a delicate china cup balanced in its saucer and extended it to him. In the reaction she expected, he held up a hand and recoiled.

  “No, thank you.” He looked at the effeminate china as if it might be attached to a detonator. Then like the disciplined professional he was, he dismissed her as if she didn’t exist and turned his attention back to Vivian and Bliss. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Windsor, I would like to speak to Mrs. Kerr in private for a moment.”

  Vivian’s blue eyes narrowed with a pinch of displeasure. “Alone?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have some questions for Mrs. Kerr, and then I’d like to speak with you for a moment if I might.”

  Surprise replaced displeasure, and Vivian’s eyes widened again. “Me?”

  While this exchange played out, Jesse poured a cup of coffee and shoved it into Bliss’s hands. Cinnamon brown eyes lifted to hers, and the younger woman smiled as if they shared a secret. Then Bliss took a long, savoring drink. She closed her eyes and exhaled. The unmistakable sound of pleasure drew the attention of the male among them.

  Professional demeanor gone, the sheriff’s expression turned to one of stupefaction. Jesse’s face twitched from the effort required to hide her amusement. Watching the high and mighty Joe Tyler tumble from his self-made pedestal was pure joy. He used his size and his strong, silent act as intimidation tools a little too often for her liking. She would have to thank Bliss later for unwittingly turning him human, even for a moment.

  As quickly as it had slipped, his impassive mask was back in place, and Jesse felt the shiver of caution she always felt around him. It was a lot of why she resented him, and a lot of why he was so effective at his job. Damn him.

  “Mrs. Kerr.” He held out his hand to assist Bliss in rising. “Your great aunt has given us permission to use her library to speak privately.”

  Bliss set down her coffee cup and rose on her own, if somewhat clumsily, from the chaise. She turned and, with great dignity, preceded him into the house. Her gaze met Jesse’s as she passed her. Confusion, and a creeping fear, left Bliss’s huge eyes looking haunted and more than a little lost.

  Jesse turned away before the sheriff reached her, afraid her own expression would give away too much of the doubt she felt. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. And Vivian and her niece appeared to be right in its crosshairs.

  The other two were barely out of sight when Vivian hissed, “Why are you here? And what is going on?”

  “First things first.” Jesse dropped into the seat Bliss had vacated, but remained perched at the edge, leaning toward Vivian. “When did Bliss get here?”

  “Early. Before breakfast.”

  Jesse sat up straighter. “You haven’t had breakfast?” She looked at the dead soldier champagne bottle. “Oh, good grief.” Pouring a cup of coffee and adding cream, she passed it to Vivian. “Here. Drink.”

  “I should resent being ordered around,” Vivian muttered into the coffee cup she dutifully began to drink. “But I think I have a champagne headache coming on.”

  Lifting the platter, Jesse held it out. “Cheese. Get some protein into you. The nuts are good, too.”

  “I was going to call you,” Vivian said. Elegant as always, her wheat blond Grace Kelly upsweep fresh from her weekly salon appointment, she took the small, china platter a
nd set it in her lap. Selecting a square of cheese with one hand, Vivian held out her empty coffee cup to Jesse for a refill. “I’m afraid we have a situation on our hands. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

  “I think I may have some idea,” Jesse answered. “But you tell me about Bliss’s problem first.”

  “She can’t find Harold.”

  Jesse handed back the refilled cup. “When did she see him last?”

  “I never asked her that. But I don’t think that’s the problem. What seems to be bothering her is that he didn’t show up at his dealership this morning.” Vivian waved a chunk of cheese aloft for emphasis, then took a bite. “That appears to be unheard of,” she said around the cheese, which she then washed down with coffee. “Now, why are you here?”

  With a deep breath, Jesse looked skyward for inspiration. Nothing earth-shattering occurred, so she just waded in. “Well, SueAnn was late this morning, after having spent the night with her boyfriend in Culverton.”

  “What has this got to do with anything?” Vivian demanded, not the most patient of people in the best of times.

  “The road she took to get to work went right by Bliss’s house.”

  “What time?”

  Jesse shrugged, not having thought to ask that question. “Nine-ish?”

  “So Bliss was already here,” Vivian said mostly to herself. Then she pinned her fierce gaze on Jesse. “So, why does this matter?”

  “Because there were police cars there,” Jesse said gently.

  Vivian’s hand went to her breast just as Sophia’s had. She closed her eyes, breathed in and out deeply, once. Then she opened her eyes, squared her shoulders and shook off the moment. “Cars?” she demanded. “How many cars?”

  “Enough to get SueAnn’s attention. She said the front yard was filled with them, but that would have been an exaggeration.” Jesse didn’t have to say more. SueAnn Bailey could tell a good story, but everyone who knew her, knew that you also had to edit just a bit.

  Vivian nodded her agreement and sat lost in thought before she finally said, “Well, I don’t like the sound of that.”