Sharpe Edge (Cozy Suburbs Mystery Series)

by Lisa B. Thomas

  Deena savored the spinach salad drizzled with mustard vinaigrette. “This is delish,” she said to Sandra. “Who is the caterer?”

  “I think it’s Chef Jacques,” she said, using the French pronunciation. “He catered last year, too.”

  The scent of sweet pine from wreaths and lighted trees filled the room. A tuxedoed gentleman tinkled out carols on the grand piano, adding to the cheery atmosphere. The large room took on a warm, cozy feel now that all the guests were seated and relaxed.

  Penelope smiled and waved gregariously at several women around the room. “Now, what did you say your name was, young man?” She leaned toward Gary and put her hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze. “My, aren’t you the strong one,” she added with a flirty grin.

  The smell of bourbon smacked his face. “Gary Sharpe,” he said politely, ignoring the second statement.

  “You must be new around here. I don’t recall seeing you at any of our club functions.” She put her arm on the table and nudged him with her shoulder. “Are you married?”

  Gary looked startled.

  “Now Penelope, leave the poor man be. Can’t you see that his wife is sitting right next to him?” Edwin slathered a piece of sourdough bread with butter.

  “Oh, fiddle sticks. You know I’m just having fun here with Barry.”

  “It’s Gary,” Deena said, leaning over her husband toward the woman who was twenty years her elder. “And yes, he’s married. To me.”

  Sandra interrupted. “Look, there’s Russell.”

  Deena sat up and watched her brother take his seat between Carolyn and Estelle.

  “He sure cleans up well,” Sandra said.

  “Doesn’t he look handsome?” Deena hardly recognized him. Rarely did he wear anything other than Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts, even in the winter. She noticed his face was freshly shaven, making him look a little less like Jimmy Buffet than usual.

  “Oh, my,” Penelope said, looking over at Russell. “Is he single?”

  Gary put his hand on Deena’s leg to stop her from another embarrassing situation. Luckily, the waiters returned to collect the salad plates. A moment later, the entrée arrived. They dined on fennel-crusted prime rib and green beans with shallots. There was also a generous scoop of cheddar and garlic mashed potatoes. This was Texas, after all.

  Edwin called over a waiter and semi-discreetly gave him a small wad of bills. A few minutes later, the waiter returned with a large glass for Penelope that he announced was “a Coke.” Clearly, it was Coke mixed with whiskey. Before long, Penelope became absorbed in her meal and her beverage and quit trying to play footsies with Gary.

  “Estelle sure looks different from when I met her last summer,” Deena said to Sandra. “She’s practically glowing.”

  “Maybe she and Russell are—”

  “Ewww! Stop! That’s my brother you’re talking about.” Deena took a sip of tea then savored a bite of potatoes as she observed Estelle. She no longer had a sour, pinched-face look. Her light brown hair was out of its tight bun, falling just below her shoulders. Her pale skin had color, and her make-up showed off her pretty blue eyes. Although she was hardly a candidate for the next “Bachelorette,” she was pleasantly attractive. Russell looked somewhat uncomfortable sitting between the two Fitzhugh women, but Deena could sense an intimacy between him and Estelle that she found absolutely adorable.

  Soon the table conversation turned to holiday plans. The pianist played seasonal favorites as guests finished off the main course.

  Deena looked down at her satin blouse and tried to wipe off a spot of salad dressing. “By the way, are we still going to the flea market in Canton on Saturday?”

  “I’m planning on it,” Sandra said. “My niece is watching the store for me so I can stock up on goodies.” She motioned to the head table. “Look, Carolyn is getting ready to make her speech.”

  Waiters rushed around picking up dinner and bread plates. Carolyn tapped the side of her glass with her spoon, and the guests gave her their attention.

  “I want to thank everyone for coming tonight and for your generous donations to the Fitzhugh Library.” She glared across the room. “Don’t think I won’t remember you still owe me a book, Walter,” she said, wagging a finger in his direction.

  Everyone laughed.

  “As you know, the library was built by my late husband, Donald, for the good citizens of Maycroft. Your generous donations help keep it running. And ladies, remember that we are decorating the library for the holidays on Thursday at ten o’clock sharp, so don’t be late. Someone will need to call Penelope to wake her up.”

  More laughter followed.

  “Now, for the most important part of the evening. This is where we serve you dessert and ask for more money. Gladys is here to talk about the Fitzhugh Women’s Shelter and Bernie will speak about the Fitzhugh Children’s Park. I expect everyone to pay attention and dig deep in your pockets. You all know how much I hate to talk about money, so if you will excuse me for now, I will return in a few minutes for the champagne toast.”

  Estelle stood up, right on cue. Everyone clapped, and Estelle wheeled her mother out of the ballroom and closed the doors behind them.

  Waiters returned with a fabulous chocolate truffle cheesecake along with coffee and champagne. Gladys stood next to the piano. Before she even started her pitch for the women’s shelter, men reached into their breast pockets for their checkbooks. Several women had brought sealed envelopes as though they were tithing at church. Deena looked at Gary, and he pulled out his checkbook. “How much?” he asked Deena in a whisper.

  “How much?” she asked Sandra.

  “You’re probably safe giving a hundred,” she whispered back.

  “A hundred,” Deena said to Gary. “I hope that’s for both charities.”

  After a few minutes, they all clapped for Gladys, and then Bernie walked over to take his turn. Deena looked across the room to see Russell pulling at his tie, looking quite unsettled.

  “What happens next?” Deena whispered to Sandra who was pretending to listen to Bernie.

  “Everyone will start milling around and gossiping while waiting in line for the powder room. Then Carolyn and Estelle will return. Carolyn will thank everyone again and we’ll all sing ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas.’” She turned back to face Bernie. Whispering over her shoulder, she added, “Also, everyone will guzzle down as much of Carolyn’s champagne as they can while waiting for their cars to be pulled around.”

  After Bernie finally finished his spiel, there was a mass exodus for the ladies’ room. Most of the men just stood up to stretch their legs and to greet friends. Deena spoke to several people she knew, including Betty, and then headed over to find Russell.

  “How are you doing, big brother?” Russell stood up and gave Deena a hug. “I can’t remember seeing you this dressed up since you were a groomsman in my wedding.”

  “Oh, yeah. You made me wear a baby blue tux.”

  “Give me a break. It was the Eighties.” She grinned and poked Russell in the arm. “So, tell me about you and Estelle.”

  “She’s nice. I like her.”

  “Details. I want details. Have you kissed her?”

  Russell blushed. “Don’t you have someone else to bother right now? Where’s Gary? I’m sure he’s looking for you.”

  “Russell has a girlfriend,” she said in a sing-song voice.

  “We have only been seeing each other for about a month. You sure that constitutes boyfriend status?”

  “A month is like five years at your age. You are definitely her boyfriend.”

  Russell pulled at his tie again.

  “I get it,” she said. “But don’t think I won’t be calling you. Should I set another place at Christmas dinner?” With that, she left to join Sandra in line for the ladies’ room.

  Before long, the piano player banged out a spirited version of “Deck the Halls,” a signal for the guests to return to their seats. However, just as he got to the second
fa-la-la, a shrill voice from the direction of the foyer rang out above the music. “M-o-t-h-e-r!”

  Russell jumped from the table and ran to the foyer doors. Estelle stood at the top of the grand staircase. There was Carolyn Fitzhugh, laying spread eagle on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, tangled up in her wheelchair. Two small silver bells rolled around on the floor near her. Estelle raced down the steps and leaned over her mother. Doctors Roberts, Morton, Henley, and Wilson all rushed to her side.

  “Call 9-1-1,” someone yelled as the guests began to crowd around.

  “Stand back,” Dr. Roberts ordered. “Give her some air.” Russell had his arm around Estelle who was shaking and crying. Dr. Mortimer placed the stethoscope he always kept in his pocket on Carolyn’s chest. After a minute, he sat up and looked at his colleagues, shaking his head. “She’s gone.” A collective gasp seemed to take all the air out of the room.

  Estelle let out another cry.

  Just then, someone back in the ballroom yelled, “Happy New Year!” It was Penelope Burrows.

  Chapter Three

  From the time Deputy Trey Simms solved the 50-year-old missing person case last summer, he had been on Sheriff Lowry’s good side. The Perry County sheriff’s race was hotly contested in the November elections, but Lowry had won his fifth term by the width of a fingernail. Deena had covered the race for the Northeast Texas Tribune. Simms had brought in the youth vote and was now a minor celebrity in the area.

  Trey Simms was also Carolyn Fitzhugh’s great nephew, which is why he was on security duty the night of the party. Not expecting any trouble, Trey had kept watch outside to make sure the guests’ cars were safe and that lookie-lookers driving past to admire the stately manor didn’t linger too long. His friend Ray was in charge of valet parking. They had spent the evening discussing family, football, and the holidays.

  Maycroft, just southeast of Dallas, was a tourist town known as a mecca for antique shops, quaint little inns, and down-home cooking. The crime rate was low, but the population was growing as Dallas continued to burst its seams and spew commuters farther in all directions.

  Most residents were Texas Rangers fans, but when it came to football, the town’s loyalties were more contentious. Of course, there were retired snowbirds who had flown south to enjoy their nest egg or open a little bed-and-breakfast. They brought their hometown team spirit with them. For the natives, though, there were just enough people who had family around Houston to create a solid rivalry between the Cowboys and Texans. Playoffs were right around the corner, and both teams were still in the hunt.

  Trey had been one of the first people in the door when Carolyn was found on the floor of the foyer. He helped clear out the guests and waited in the house for the coroner to collect the body. The Fitzhugh estate was just outside the Maycroft city limits, so it fell under the county’s jurisdiction. However, city police and fire departments also provided services to the area. Two other officers showed up with the EMT within minutes of the call.

  After all the guests had left, an officer took pictures of the scene. The only “evidence” was Carolyn’s toppled wheelchair. Pending a preliminary report from the local coroner, Carolyn’s death was clearly an accident. She had apparently rolled too close to the edge of the stairs and had tumbled down to the bottom. But because there were no eyewitnesses, her body would be sent to the Medical Examiner’s office in Dallas for a final determination of cause of death.

  When he left the house around midnight, Trey promised Estelle he would check with the coroner and stop by to see her in the afternoon.

  As he drove up, Wendy was directing the clean-up of the house. She was visibly distraught and not her usual snappy self.

  “Oh, I hadn’t expected more police here today,” she said when she saw Trey in his uniform. “An officer last night said it was okay to clear everything out today.” She reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair back in her messy ponytail.

  “No problem,” he said. “I’m just here to see my Aunt Estelle.”

  “I didn’t realize you were related. I’m sorry for your loss.” She motioned to the parlor. “Estelle is in there.”

  Before going into the room, Trey stopped and looked around the foyer, remembering how different it was just hours earlier. Flowers, from lilies to roses to chrysanthemums, had arrived in a steady stream all morning and covered the entry tables. Wendy had placed some of the arrangements along the edge of the large staircase. The sweet smell of flowers mixed with pine from the Christmas decor would have been overwhelming had the front door not been open much of the morning.

  Hearing a loud voice coming down the long corridor from the back of the house, Trey followed it to the kitchen. Irene was ordering around the catering staff who were not working fast enough for her liking. They would normally have finished cleaning up before leaving last night, but considering the circumstances, they agreed to return this morning to clean and remove all their equipment.

  “What do you want?” Irene asked Trey when he appeared in the doorway.

  “Just checking on things.” Her tone surprised him. Irene Harrison had worked for Carolyn more than fifteen years, and he had been around her at several family gatherings. He expected her to be upset but was surprised at her blatant anger. Even though he was only in his second year of law enforcement, he had witnessed the many different ways people dealt with grief. This must be hers, he thought, and backed his way out of the kitchen.

  He knocked on the parlor door before entering. Estelle sat on the sofa with her mother’s black-and-white cat, Clover, in her lap. Several of Carolyn’s friends who had been at the party filled the adjacent chairs. Russell stood by one of the room’s large windows and seemed relieved to see Trey. He walked over and shook hands.

  “Thanks for stopping by,” Russell said. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “I’m not used to all this social stuff. I really don’t know what to do.”

  “Yes sir. I get it.” Trey glanced over Russell’s shoulder and saw the women staring at him. “I’m sure Estelle is just glad you’re here for her.” He walked over to the group. “Hello ladies. Aunt Estelle.” He tipped his Stetson hat politely.

  “Please have a seat, Trey. Have you met Mrs. Burlington and Mrs. Smathers?”

  “Nice to meet you.” He turned back to his aunt. “I need to go over some information with you in private, if that’s all right.”

  Estelle nodded and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Ladies, thank you so much for stopping by. It means a great deal to me. Please tell the other members of the Bluebonnet Club that I appreciate all the flowers and support.”

  “That’s so kind of you.”

  The women took turns hugging Estelle, and Clover began to hiss. Russell seemed to take their leaving as an opportunity to escape.

  “Russell,” Estelle said as she extended her hand to him, “I’d like you to stay.”

  The two women shot each other a disapproving glance. Trey wondered if they thought Russell wasn’t good enough for one of Maycroft’s finest families. They probably thought the same about him. He walked them out the front door.

  The parlor was decorated in a style to match the Victorian exterior. A red velvet sofa and tapestry-covered chairs surrounded a dark rosewood table. One wall was lined with built-in bookcases that held an eclectic collection of art pieces. Calling it “art” was generous. Most of it was souvenir quality with a bit of gold plate thrown in. They were obviously gifts or pieces collected on Carolyn’s travels.

  When he returned, Russell was sitting down and seemed more relaxed. Pulling a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket, Trey turned to Estelle. “I have the preliminary report from the coroner. It shows that your mother died of a broken neck caused by the fall. She had trauma to her head, a broken arm, and multiple cuts and lacerations. Those injuries were all secondary to the broken neck. Without performing a full autopsy, they cannot determine if she possibly suffered a stroke or heart attack before the fall. The coroner did not find anyth
ing else noteworthy. He ruled it an accident.” He returned the paper to his pocket.

  Tears glistened in Estelle’s eyes, but she kept her composure. “Is he going to perform a full autopsy?”

  “That will be done up in Dallas, not here locally.”

  “How long will it take? We need to make arrangements for the funeral.” She laid her hand protectively on the cat’s back.

  “It’s hard to say just yet. The funeral home will help you keep in contact with the ME’s office.”

  “Thank you for that information, but that’s not the main reason I wanted you to stop by today.” Estelle motioned toward the parlor doors, and Trey got up to close them.

  “So what’s up, Aunt Estelle?”

  “Trey,” she said sternly, “there is no way on God’s green earth that this was an accident.”

  Her demeanor had turned so suddenly that Trey nearly missed the chair when he sat. This was a new side of his sweet, Southern aunt.

  “Mother did not fall down that staircase. She was murdered.”

  “Murdered?” Trey and Russell responded in unison.

  “That’s right. Mother never went near the top of those stairs. She had no reason to. The only way she would have ended up at the bottom of those steps is if someone pushed her.” Her eyes began to well again, but she sniffed back the tears.

  “Aunt Estelle,” Trey said gently, “I know this is a shock for you. Grief is—”

  “Don’t give me that speech, Trey. I know what you’re thinking. But I also know my mother. You’ve got to believe me.” The look on her face told the whole story. She meant what she said.

  “By the way,” she said turning to Russell, “did you get in touch with Deena?”

  “Yeah. She should be here any minute.” Trey noticed some of the color had drained from the poor guy’s face.

  Estelle sat back. “Good. I want her to hear this, too.”

  There was a knock on the parlor door, and Wendy stuck in her head. “Estelle, do you want me to have the guys deliver these boxes of books to the library?”