by A. Gardner
Marta dives right into her cheese soufflé, one of her favorite things to make when she's stressed, and closes her eyes with each bite. Again, she nods in approval. I dig a spoon into my fluffy soufflé and admire the moist, airy texture that Chef Gautier mastered. The soufflé doesn't sink, and I'm impressed by the blend of cheeses.
There isn't much talking going on at the table. Every guest is still seated, hoping not to miss what's coming next. Even Lord Chutney is quiet as he slowly enjoys his meal. This is the way Marta wanted her reception to be. Good food and no arguing.
Finally, the dessert is brought out, and Marta giggles when she sees that it's another soufflé. This time, a chocolate one topped with a thick chocolate sauce to be poured on top at your leisure. More edible flowers decorate the plate. The English garden theme rings true throughout each course.
I take a bite of the chocolate soufflé. I don't want to admit that it's better than Marta's, but it is. The soufflé itself is delightfully light, just like a soufflé should be, but the added chocolate sauce makes it taste like a fudgy cake. Adding as little or as much sauce as I want makes the dish the exact consistency I prefer. I don't know if I'll have room for wedding cake.
"Excuse me." Lewis stands up and clinks his glass. "Now that we've all enjoyed a lovely meal, I want to say a few words." He lovingly looks down at Marta. Lewis's hair is neatly in place tonight, and it's weird to see him in a tux, rather than his usual suit. "Thank you all for coming to our wedding. Marta and I had a chance meeting some time ago." He clears his throat, and a few people chuckle. "The circumstances aren't important. What is important is that I fell for Marta the first moment I met her."
"And her cooking," Rupert adds from across the table. Lewis's father, Barry, laughs at Rupert's joke. It's a comment that Barry probably would have made if his wife wasn't sitting right next to him.
"Yes, and her cooking, of course," Lewis improvises. "I always knew this day would come. I just hoped that it would be sooner rather than later because I can't picture myself going a day without my dear, sweet Marta."
The audience erupts in whispers.
"To the bride and groom," Lord Chutney chimes in, holding up his glass.
Everyone toasts to Lewis and Marta before moving into the lounge for tea and coffee. My stomach leaps as I remember what happened on Monday night. Around now was the time that Ethan Taylor was found outside in the driver's seat of Lord Chutney's Rolls Royce. It's hard for me to focus on anything else. Walking through the lounge, seeing lots of the same faces, brings back all of those memories. I'm getting déjà vu.
Tamsin stands next to me, grabbing a coffee from a passing waiter. The two of us watch Marta as she speaks to each villager brave enough to visit Chutney Manor after her wedding ceremony in town.
"It feels strange, doesn't it?" Tamsin says first as she observes the crowd. "Being here again. I'm expecting someone to scream any minute." She wipes the lipstick stain on her coffee cup. "That's an awful thing to say at my mate's wedding, isn't it?"
"You're not the only one who feels that way," I add. "It's mostly the same people from Monday night. Well, apart from Lavinia Stevenson."
"She had the nerve to tell me off, and then she doesn't even show up," Tamsin says quietly. "Who's the irresponsible little tart now?"
"I still think there's something fishy about the way she called you and lured you outside on Friday night." I shake my head. "If we didn't have the wedding, I hope you would be at the police right about now."
"Yes, Lewis convinced me to come clean. That's exactly what I plan on doing. Tomorrow, of course." Tamsin sips more of her coffee. She hasn't added any milk or sugar. The warm liquid in her cup is as strong as she can get it. I might need one of those soon.
Tamsin chuckles, covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing too loudly.
"What is it?"
"Oh, nothing," Tamsin responds. "I was just thinking that Lavinia has much too much time on her hands. You know, before the phone call, she sent me a note as well."
"A note?" I raise my eyebrows. "What kind of note?"
"Oh, a note asking me to meet her the night before. Of course, I never responded to her. That's why she resorted to calling me." Tamsin shakes her head. "That old bat has nothing else to do, I suppose."
"What did the note look like?" My heart pounds.
"I don't know." Tamsin shrugs. "One line typed on a plain piece of paper. Rather boring, actually."
"Oh, no." My eyes dart from person to person looking for Sandra. I can't see her anywhere.
"What's wrong?" Tamsin asks. "You look like you're going to faint."
"Have you seen Sandra?"
"No." Tamsin scans the lounge and comes to the same conclusion. Sandra is nowhere to be seen. "Poppy, what's the matter?"
"I saw a similar note in Sandra's room today," I confess. "I went back to the house to get your dress, and I saw the note in her room. It was typed on a plain piece of paper. It was from Lord Chutney, asking Sandra to meet him in the library after pudding for a special surprise."
"Sounds cheeky," Tamsin adds.
"Except Lord Chutney is right over there." I point to him. "Where is Sandra?"
"Wait, you think Lavinia sent Sandra that note?" Tamsin bites the corner of her lip. "Why would she do that when she can just ring her up to chat? Why not stop by the house?"
"Because," I conclude. "Sandra must be next on the list." A shiver bursts up my spine, and I try to stop myself from panicking.
"What list, Poppy?"
"The killer's list," I reluctantly answer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I don't know what Lavinia Stevenson had against Ethan Taylor, but I know that she's somehow involved in his death. Lavinia is missing. And now Sandra is in danger. With Tamsin's help, I search the dining room and every part of the lounge. There's no one outside on the lawn either.
"Rupert, have you seen Sandra?" I resort to asking around.
"I…" Rupert glances around the room and scratches his head. "No. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her since pudding."
"Darn," I mutter. I move on to someone else, and Rupert follows behind me.
"No luck," Tamsin says as she joins me. The two of us head toward Lord Chutney.
"Excuse me, Lord Chutney." I address him properly, and this seems to grab his attention. "I was wondering, have you see Sandra?"
"Sandra?" Lord Chutney looks to his side as if he's just noticing that Sandra is not standing right next to him. "I didn't realize she was missing."
"Who's missing?" Marta jumps into the conversation.
"Oh, no one," Tamsin blurts out. "It's okay. We'll take care of it."
"Well, have either of you seen Mum?" Marta asks. "We're about to cut the cake."
"No," I respond. "That's the problem." My chest tightens as I imagine Sandra winding up the same as Ethan. I can't let that happen on Marta's wedding day. "Lord Chutney, where is the library?"
"The library?" He wrinkles his nose. "Why, I hardly set foot in that room anymore. I have a much more comfortable desk downstairs."
"Where is it?" I insist. "Where upstairs?"
"Well, the main library is in the right wing of the house at the top of the staircase."
As soon as Lord Chutney finishes his sentence, I jog up the stairs. Footsteps thud behind me. I have no clue who is following me, but I don't care. Someone needs to get to that library as soon as possible. Lord Chutney's voice rings through my head as he shouts at me to stay downstairs and not go wandering about. I know exactly why he's nervous about having guests explore the second story.
I run straight toward the right wing of the house, looking for some sort of grand entranceway. The library is straight ahead, just like Lord Chutney said. The walls are lined with dark wooden bookshelves, and books crowd most of the shelving space. The furniture is dusty, and a curtain covers the large window overlooking the back lawns.
But the room is empty.
"Sandra," I shout, scanning the room. "
Sandra, are you here?"
"Poppy." Tamsin nudges my shoulder and points to the corner of the room. One bookshelf is slightly out of place. The wooden frame protrudes from the wall almost like a door. I yank on the bookshelf, and it flings wide open, revealing a spiral staircase leading up to the roof. Tamsin and I look at each other wide-eyed.
"I hope we're not too late," I exclaim as I run up the spiral steps, skipping as many as I can to make my journey faster. My blood soars through my veins as the night air greets me at the top. "Sandra!"
The rooftop is made of flat surfaces mixed with walkways that twist and turn from left to right. There are voices in the distance. The wind carries them toward me, and I cautiously walk forward. I stop when I see a sight I was hoping I wouldn't. Tamsin bumps into me.
"You said you were alone." Lavinia frowns at Sandra as she inches closer to her. Sandra is steps away from the edge of the roof, and Lavinia has a sharp blade pointing at Sandra's chest.
"I was," Sandra whimpers. She sniffles, too terrified to say much.
"What are you lot doing here?" Lavinia sneers. "Alright, come over here you two or Sandra gets it."
Tamsin looks at me, and I subtly nod. Lavinia takes a step toward Sandra, almost touching her with the blade. Sandra squeaks and inches closer to the edge. She squeezes her eyes shut as she does so.
"Okay. Okay." I hold up my hands. "There's no need to harass Sandra anymore. We will listen." I slowly walk toward Sandra and grab her hand. Lavinia's eyes are fiery as she points her shiny blade at all three of us. I glance over my shoulder and make the mistake of looking at the long fall right behind me. It's one I would only survive if I was granted a miracle. I'm sure, in Lavinia's twisted mind, that's the whole point. "Do you really expect people to believe that all three of us jumped to our deaths on the day of Marta's wedding?"
"I'll figure something out," Lavinia responds. "It worked with that parking attendant."
"Valet," I mutter.
"Oh, it doesn't matter." Lavinia cackles, and immediately, I see her for what she really is—some sort of psychopath. "What matters is that Catherine will be taking the blame for it."
"So Catherine didn't kill Ethan Taylor?" I boldly ask.
"Of course not." Lavinia cackles again. "Those policemen are all fools. Catherine was unlucky enough to find his body where it landed. I had no idea why she bothered carrying him outside, until I visited Tamsin's hotel room and found her research. Catherine must have held Lord Chutney responsible for her husband's death. She thought framing him by putting Ethan's body in one of his antique cars would actually work. After all, we all heard what Lord Chutney said about how that horrible boy scratched his car."
"So you're the one who stole all my work," Tamsin grumbles.
"I couldn't let you soil the Chutney name." Lavinia stares at her as if the reasons why are obvious.
"Why?" I ask. "Why go through all of this trouble for a man who is actually guilty of cheating hundreds of people?"
"Watch your language." Lavinia jerks forward and grazes the front of my dress with her knife. It's enough to make Sandra scream. My muscles tighten as I look down and see a slash in my bridesmaid dress.
"Don't tell me you're in love with him." Tamsin gasps. Her eyes stay fixated on the knife.
"Don't be silly," Lavinia responds. "Harry and I are in love." She glares at Sandra with disdain. "We were going to get married until you came along, Sandra."
"Lavinia, I had no idea," Sandra says. "You and John—"
"Oh, enough about John." Lavinia shakes her head. "We've been over for years. I deserve to be Lady Chutney. And when I am, I won't have scum like Ethan Taylor snooping around my manor and spreading rumors or nosy slags writing exposés." Lavinia holds her head high.
"Lavinia, what is going on here?" a voice echoes through the evening wind. I'm relieved to see that Tamsin and I were followed. Lord Chutney steps forward, and behind him is Rupert, Lewis, and finally, Marta. Marta covers her mouth, her wedding dress waving in the breeze.
"I'm doing it for us, Harry," Lavinia says. "The two of us are meant to be together."
"Lavinia, I have no idea what you're talking about." Lord Chutney appears to be frozen. He balls up his fists and attempts to hide his heavy breathing, but he can't stop glancing at the edge. He must be afraid of heights.
"Nonsense." Lavinia doesn't seem to care. She keeps her blade steady. "He always does this. Acts like he doesn't understand. Until I take care of my husband, he doesn't want to stain my reputation. It's so thoughtful of him." Lavinia eyes Sandra again. "Now she is the only one left standing in our way."
"Lavinia, stop this at once," Lord Chutney responds. His voice is low and not as assertive as usual. In fact, Lord Chutney is staring straight ahead as though he can't even bare to look toward the edge anymore. His cheeks turn pale. "You and I have no relationship."
"See, there he goes again," Lavinia replies. Her twisted smile turns soft for a moment. She's definitely not completely sane. "It's time to make ourselves official. I am a Lady. I was born to be a Lady." She sighs. "Lady Chutney."
In an instant, her expression turns harsh again as she aims her knife at Sandra. Sandra squeals and shuts her eyes. Lord Chutney stays frozen, but Rupert jumps out from behind him. He grabs both of Lavinia's arms and struggles to pull her away from us. As soon as Lavinia falls to the floor, I grab Tamsin and Sandra and step far away from the edge.
Lewis jumps in to grab Lavinia, but Lavinia quickly grabs her blade and stabs Lewis in the shoulder. He yells out in pain as Rupert knocks the blade from Lavinia's hand. Marta rushes to Lewis's side as he clutches his wound. He can still stand, which is a good sign. I do my best to help Rupert drag Lavinia back inside.
"Harry and I are soulmates," Lavinia babbles. "We are. You'll see. You'll be sorry." The sound of her rambling fills my ears, and it makes me cringe.
Lavinia might not seem like a killer, but she definitely is one.
I take a deep breath as Rupert and the others force Lavinia back down the spiral staircase. Despite his bad shoulder, Lewis is already on the phone to the police. Marta is holding his cell up to his ear. I'll remember Marta's wedding day for a lifetime, as I'm sure she will too.
A breeze drifts through the darkened tower leading back to the library, and it breaks up the dusty smell. I look up, realizing that Lord Chutney is still out there. He's standing in the same spot. Frozen. Terrified. Too stricken with fear to rescue Sandra when she really needed him. I shake my head.
So much for titles.
In my mind Harry has just branded himself as Lord Coward Chutney.
* * *
"Bon voyage," Marta says, giving me a hug good-bye.
"Au revoir. Good luck, Poppy." Jean Pierre nods, giving me a slight smile.
"Yes, you must come to Paris and visit us." Destin hugs me as soon as Marta is finished, and no surprise, he lingers longer than necessary.
"I will miss you, Poppy." Dandre gives me a side hug. He has one of Catherine's scones in each hand. As soon as the bakery opened, he had bought a box of fresh pastries for his journey home. Catherine is back, and there was a line out the door of her bakery this morning.
I stand outside of Rose's Inn and Pub surrounded by friends. I don't know when I'll see them all again, but I hope that it is soon. Lewis and Marta spent last night at the inn, and after I leave, they will be going on their honeymoon. Destin, Dandre, and Chef Gautier are going back to Paris shortly after I leave for the airport. Tamsin is headed back to London for a job interview. Even Sandra and Rupert stopped by to bid us all farewell. The two of them seem much friendlier, and I've heard no mention of Lord Coward Chutney all morning. Perhaps Marta will actually get her wish.
"Marta." Tamsin points to something down the street. "Look."
A fluffy figure trots in our direction. It's white, and something shiny is dangling in between its teeth. I immediately smile when I see that it's Peppercorn. Marta rubs her eyes before jumping up and down with glee. She runs to her
pet and scoops her up in her arms.
"Peppercorn," Marta cries. "I thought you were gone forever. Don't you ever scare me like that again." Peppercorn purrs and drops something into Marta's hand. "What's this?"
Marta holds up a silver necklace with a diamond pendant. Half of it is covered in dirt, which explains all of the holes in Mr. Fletcher's yard. It has taken Peppercorn a long time to find it. Marta wipes it clean and examines the piece of jewelry.
"No, it can't be." Sandra looks shocked as she delicately touches the chain. "Can it?" Sandra looks at Rupert. The two of them look surprised.
"What is it?" Marta asks.
"Why…it's the necklace your father gave me on our first anniversary." Sandra places a hand on her heart. "I lost it a very long time ago when I was out in the garden. I never thought I'd see it again."
"Your mum was convinced it was a sign of bad luck. It took a lot of convincing to persuade her otherwise. I daresay this is another miracle, Sandra." Rupert grins as he takes the necklace and gently positions it on Sandra's neck. "Just like old times."
Marta beams as she watches her parents exchange warm looks.
"You know what that is, don't you?" I chime in, thinking of how badly Marta wants her parents to reconcile their differences and get back together.
"What?" Marta asks. The smile doesn't leave her face, and I don't think it will for a very long time.
"That's Peppercorn's gift to you," I answer.
EPILOGUE
I sit on the airplane waiting for my long journey back to the States to begin. Bree is never going to believe the sort of trip I had. I'll bet she's going to wish she had come with me this time. Maybe next time she actually will.
I dig through my carry-on and pull out the pink neck pillow my mom gave me for my birthday last year. I remember laughing at it at first, but it has come in handy during all the times I've flown back and forth between the East and West Coasts. Who cares if it makes me look like a strawberry cupcake?
