Marion Mysteries: Books 1-3 (A Cozy Mystery Bundle)

by Amy Andersen

  “Doctor. What a nice surprise. And you’ve brought a friend with you?”

  “Yes.” Glenn turned to Marion. “This is Marion Fox, a good friend of mine. I don’t know if you know this, but she’s a bit an amateur sleuth. She’s helped the local police solve a couple of crimes already.” He gave her a gentle nudge forward and Marion tripped on her feet for a moment, then continued forward with nod.

  “Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan.”

  The old matriarch held out her hand for Marion to take and the two stood staring at each other and holding hands for a moment. “Please dear,” Mrs. Sullivan said, breaking the silence. “Sit here with me. Tell me all the gory details.”

  Marion relayed the tale of her former employee turned killer while Glenn checked all of Mrs. Sullivan’s vitals. Camille gasped and clucked disapprovingly at all the right moments, making her new friend blush with the attention. “And now you’re here in my bedroom. I’m so thrilled to have you on the case.” Mrs. Sullivan smiled and squirmed a bit with the pleasure of all the attention. “I know you can solve it.”

  “Would you mind talking about the accidents? It is a bit odd that you’ve had two recently.”

  Camille shook her head. “I’m so sorry, my dear, I just don’t have much to report. Both were hit- and-run accidents and both cars seemed intent on ending my life. Unfortunately, they also succeeded in hitting me hard enough that my memory of both days is terribly foggy. I can’t remember any details of how it happened, what the cars looked like, nothing.” She took Marion’s hand again and patted it apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Marion. I want to be helpful, but all I know is that someone wants me out of the way. And,” she lowered her voice, “if I were a gambler, I’d bet my money on my son, Owen, or that so-called friend of mine, Noah. Both of them stand to inherit my fortune the moment I die.”

  Chapter 3

  Marion stood in the big, lush hallway and glanced at her feet sinking down into the deep carpet as though it were quicksand. Luckily, this old house couldn’t trap her and she moved down the way to meet Glenn, who was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. She hoped their plan worked.

  Mrs. Sullivan, Glenn and Marion had all agreed on a story. Marion was Mrs. Sullivan’s new stylist and was helping her put a look together for her birthday, which would be celebrated in a couple of days. She wanted a new hairstyle, better makeup, the works. Glenn could come by anytime. He was the lady’s doctor, after all. Meanwhile, Mrs. Sullivan would stamp out any suspicions anyone had of the two of them, by backing them up in all their decisions.

  “Keep your eyes and ears open, my dear,” she’d said to Marion. “You may be surprised at what the people in this house have to say.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Before she could answer, Glenn had texted her to come downstairs. She’d excused herself and gone to meet him. She descended the grand stairway as casually as she could, but right away she saw the advantage of a great, sweeping staircase. It made a woman walk as if she were royalty, allowing her subjects a glimpse of her greatness as she descended to their level.

  “What’s up?”

  Glenn took her by the hand and led her to the back of the house. “I want you to meet Owen. He’s out back playing tennis with friends. I can’t get a read on this guy, so I need you to tell me your first impression.”

  They walked out through a little breakfast nook that ended in an opaque glass wall. A small latch belied the fact that the glass was also yet another set of double-doors and Glenn carefully opened it.

  On the other side was a perfect rolling sea of green. Green lawn, green trees and a perfectly manicured green garden with blossoms bursting through the leaves. A professional gardener trimmed a section of plants, ignoring the nearby tennis game.

  The young men were playing doubles and one man on each team was clearly struggling while their teammates jeered at them, encouraging them to give it one more try, this one would be the one. But behind every encouragement was a sneer of disapproval. What kind of Neanderthal couldn’t play tennis?

  Owen was one of the sneering young men. He was very attractive in that rich boy, private school, academic sort of way. He had a wave of blonde hair that flopped around in a charming way as he ran after the bright green ball. His arm muscles were well-toned and he played in a way that told Marion he already knew how good he looked in his tennis whites.

  The two friends sat and watched the young men play their game for a while. The score was perpetually tied due to the evenly matched pairs, but that seemed to be the point. Finally, the four called it and wandered off the court to their glasses of lemonade that Wendy had poured for them at the little side tables.

  “Hello. Doctor Steele, so great to see you,” Owen extended a hand straight to Glenn. He kept his mouth in a straight, stern line until Glenn explained that he was Mrs. Sullivan’s physician. Only then did he allow himself to smile, the expression transforming back into a young, carefree boy in mere seconds.

  “Oh yes, of course. My apologies, doctor. I’m so glad my mother has you on her side. I hear you’re the best. And who is your lovely friend?”

  He bent down for Marion’s hand so that she wouldn’t have to get up, an old-fashioned courtesy. She took it and smiled. “Marion Fox. I’ll be your mother’s stylist for the big party.”

  The three chatted a bit more, Marion keeping a close eye on Owen. He was cocky, certainly. He even stood with his tennis racket behind his shoulders so that he could flex his muscles as he held it. His boyish smile seemed to flash at all the right moments and he occasionally mentioned something lavish or expensive, but in a subtle manner that would keep anyone from calling him a snob.

  “Hey, it was great meeting you two. I’ve got to be off. I’m playing host to some old friends. I’ll see you around.” He shook hands with each of them again and trotted off like a prize pony running in the fields to tackle his friends.

  Glenn turned to Marion, eyebrows in the air. She didn’t say anything, just sat watching their first suspect go. Unable to take it anymore, Glenn pulled her over by her shirt sleeve. “Well?”

  She turned to him and shook her head. “I guess I just don’t get him either. I mean, he clearly enjoys being rich, seems generally happy. But, he does seem a bit conniving, doesn’t he?”

  Glenn looked out at the property and then back up to Mrs. Sullivan’s window. “Conniving enough to take out his own mom?”

  “That’s where I’m uncertain.” She looked at Glenn and saw that he was sweating. “Let’s go inside and stop baking in the sun.”

  Indoors, the two of them went to the sitting room and were surprised to find Wendy setting out glasses of iced tea for them.

  “Here you are.” She smiled and stood politely. “Thought this would do you some good.”

  “Thank you, Wendy,” Marion returned the smile and took a big drink of the tea, thrilled at how fresh and sweet it tasted. Wendy left the room silently and Marion waited a moment to make sure she was out of hearing range.

  “Hey,” she whispered, “I need to know; where is Noah’s room in the house?”

  Glenn set his drink down and kept his voice low as well. “Right at the top of the stairs. He popped out and surprised me once. I nearly fell down backwards. Why do you ask?”

  Marion smiled and took a long, slow drink of her tea, swallowed it and set down her glass. “Because there’s something we need to do.”

  Chapter 4

  “Marion, you are nuts.”

  “Just keep a lookout, okay? I don’t want anyone walking in on us.” Marion and Glenn listened for a long moment, but they only heard silence, She signalled to him with one finger to her lips, then stared at the room in front of her.

  Noah’s living quarters could have housed her entire apartment. He had a small sitting room, complete with fireplace, a bedroom and a full bathroom. All of it was decorated in thick, heavy fabrics befitting royalty. Marion rolled her eyes at the thought of a poten
tial murderer living in such a swanky place rent-free. Oh well, that wasn’t what she was here for.

  She could see by the look of the sitting room that he didn’t use it too often; he seemed to just hang out on one end of one couch and drink expensive brandy while he read books about famous dancers. The rest of it looked untouched. She looked at Glenn to see if he’d uncovered anything; nope. He just shrugged and the two of them moved into the bedroom.

  Another gorgeous room for a man who apparently did nothing besides keep an aging woman company. The room was spacious and airy, full of light, billowy curtains. The four poster bed reached up to the ceiling with its sturdy, mahogany pillars and silky swaths of fabric which decorated the top of it in a casual, romantic way. He had big bay windows that opened onto the grounds behind the house. Once Marion and Glenn realized they were visible to anyone outside, they dropped to the floor and peeked over the edge.

  “Anyone?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Marion raised her head just a bit higher. “The gardener isn’t there anymore and neither is the tennis club.” She turned to her partner. “You stand at the window for a second. If you don’t see anyone, close the curtains. Then keep an eye on the door, okay?”

  He shook his head, his eyes wide and his jaw working back and forth. “I can’t do this, Marion. This is someone’s house, a friend’s house. We’re crossing a line. We could be caught!”

  She reached over and put a hand on his arm, then gave him a soft smile. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just going to take a quick look and then we’re out of here. I probably won’t even find anything. If he walks in, we’ll say we were looking for him and got distracted by his little library in the first room. Okay?”

  Glenn thought about it, then nodded. He stood cautiously, still certain someone would see him, but no, the grounds were empty. Quickly, he reached up and closed the curtains, then gave Marion a thumbs-up.

  She didn’t waste any time. Moving fast, she inspected the space under the bed, then all over the bureau and in the closet. Noah was a fastidious man and she was careful not to displace any of his things. As she lifted up framed photographs, his shaving kit and his brush, she put each one back exactly how it had been.

  In the closet, Noah had no shortage of clothes. All of his shirts were from a top menswear designer and even his ties looked as if they cost a thousand dollars each. On the shelf above it all were some random boxes that looked like they had receipts, paperwork and other things it would take far too long to go through.

  Then, she noticed a wooden box.

  “Marion!” Glenn was really sweating now. He was up against the door listening intently for anyone walking by. “We really need to get out of here.”

  She ignored him and took the box down carefully. It was locked. She waved Glenn over and showed it to him and he frantically searched for something to help him. Finding some office papers, he snagged a paper clip from one of the corners and unbent one end, making a wavy little key. “You are going to be death of me, Marion Fox.”

  In a moment, he popped the lock and then handed her his makeshift tool without a word. Together, the lifted the lid to see what was so precious.

  Inside, there were only a few guarded objects; a family photo of Noah with his wife a son, a necklace and a little jade dragon. Folded on top of them was a letter.

  Marion opened it, her heart already going a million miles a minute. She skimmed the first few lines.

  “Dear Max … Missing you terribly … Hope your tenth birthday is a great time …”

  “Tenth birthday?” Glenn took the letter from her and examined it. It was new, maybe only a few days old. He shook his head again, this time in shock. “But, his son died nine years ago.”

  “You’re sure?” Glenn nodded, then handed the letter back to Marion, who folded it carefully, placed it on top of its cohorts in the box and then locked it gently.

  “So,” she said, not looking at Glenn, “it looks like Noah is a liar.”

  Chapter 5

  Luckily for Marion, a few regulars still wanted her to do their hair. They balked a bit at the sight of the boxes and had a million questions about the salon. A lot of them were annoyed at the thought of having to go and see the pretentious Michael Browne, another salon owner and the only other place in town. Marion tried to quell their fears, but honestly, she felt the same way.

  The day after she had done all her serious snooping, her former client Dory peeked in the door with an enthusiastic “Yoo hoo! Who’s available for a cut?”

  Marion smiled at the sight of her energetic friend. Sure, Dory was a bit of a snoop when it came to other people’s business, but her constant vigilance occasionally came in handy.

  “Hi, Dory. You need a cut?”

  She sashayed in with her usual confidence, but the sight of Marion’s half-packed salon took the shimmy out of her step. “What’s this? You’re getting rid of all this stuff?”

  Marion stepped over to Dory and helped her over a pile of things. “Well, finding a place for it all, actually. It’s looking like Silver Shears will have to close its doors sometime soon.”

  Dory spun around and confronted Marion with a pale face. “What?”

  The stylist shrugged. “I just don’t know what else to do. Only a few people come in anymore and no one wants to work here. This place is a money pit.”

  Dory deflated at the news, her shoulders fell along with her face. She pulled Marion in for a hug. “I want you,” she said, her voice quavering a bit, “to give me one of your beautiful haircuts right now. And I am going to tell everyone who compliments it that I got it right here. I can’t believe so many of your clients have abandoned you like this. It’s criminal!”

  Marion really enjoyed the hug, squeezing Dory tight. The woman was a bit on the small side and her tiny frame should have felt delicate, but Dory had a surprising number of muscles all over her arms. The two parted and Marion smiled down at her.

  “Okay. Let’s make you beautiful.”

  After a shampoo and a quick chat with her client, Marion picked up her comb and scissors and went to work, carefully smoothing out the hair and clipping the ends away. Dory was silent at first, but then took an excited breath and looked at Marion in the mirror.

  “You know what? You could come and work for me!” She regarded Marion’s face in the mirror, waiting for her to squeal with excitement, but there was no reaction.

  “Oh that’s right, you have your catering business.” Marion tried to focus on what she was doing while Dory squirmed in her chair.

  “Yes, dear. You could cook for me. Maybe help me serve. What do you say?”

  Marion briefly considered the offer, then gave Dory a polite smile. “It’s so sweet of you to be willing to do that for me, Dory, but I just don’t know the first thing about catering. I’m just not sure it’s the right path for me.”

  “Well,” Dory prodded, “what will you do now?”

  Marion regarded the perfectly done cut. She could do a trim in her sleep, especially a style as basic as Dory’s pageboy. “I’m thinking it’s time to make a change. It even crossed my mind that I could move out of town.”

  Her friend started to object, then stopped herself. It was hard to talk someone out of starting again when their current path had been so riddled with pitfalls. The both of them fell silent for a moment while Marion blow dried Dory’s hair, making it shine once again.

  Marion broke the silence. “I’m wondering,” she said, fixing Dory’s bangs. “Do you know anything about the Sullivan family? The really wealthy ones up at the top of the hill?”

  “Just that they flaunt their wealth to a fault. I swear, if Owen falls into anymore debt, he’ll have to start donating his blood.”

  “Wait,” Marion turned Dory’s chair around so they were face to face, “Owen is in debt?”