03 Murder by Mishap

by Suzanne Young

  “Oh, right,” Starling agreed. “I’ve heard about that. It’s called a Torry kiln. The original was built in Aberdeen, Scotland, in the late nineteen thirties.”

  Putting down her soup spoon and joining the conversation, Edna said, “That wouldn’t be far from Bar Harbor. I think that whole area of Maine around Acadia National Park would be fun for Jaycee to see, if she’s never been before.” She turned to Jaycee. “Acadia was the first national park to be created east of the Mississippi.”

  “I’m going to have to start a list,” Jaycee said with a laugh. “It’s beginning to sound like I might be biting off more than I can chew, if you’ll pardon the pun.” She grinned widely at the others’ groans and ducked when Mary threw a wadded-up paper napkin at her from across the table.

  Chatter stopped for a few minutes while the only sounds were those of spoons clicking against bowls and knives clacking onto plates as the women ate. Finishing her chowder first, Starling resumed the conversation. “You could compile a good-sized cookbook for the Boston area alone,” she said, settling back in her chair with a sigh. “That was delicious, Mom. Thanks for lunch.”

  Smiling and bowing her head slightly to acknowledge the compliment, Edna stood to clear away soup bowls and bread plates and replace them with dessert dishes. She set a bowl of grapes and a plate of cookies on the table before resuming her seat and turning to Jaycee. “Listening to all these suggestions, I think it might be a good idea for you to sit down with your recipes and a map and plot your course.” Glancing at her daughter, she added, “Starling has been all over New England with her camera, so she should be able to help.”

  “Sure,” agreed Starling. “I’ll be glad to. Good idea to break up the writing and cooking with field trips, beginning this afternoon with Carpenter’s Mill. Ready, Jaycee?” The two younger women rose and, chattering away, departed through the mudroom.

  Intent on finding the little stray kitten, Mary and Hank left soon after, and Edna spent the rest of the afternoon puttering in the yard, weeding and loosening soil in the gardens with a hand rake. The afternoon sped by, and she was dusting off a few decorator pots, arranging them around the patio, when she heard the sputtering of a small engine coming from the front of the house. Curious as to what was making the noise, she hurried along the brick path to the driveway.

  “Hello,” called Jaycee as she put her foot down on the broken shells to balance the scooter.

  “Well, hello,” Edna greeted. She walked around examining the little red machine. “What a pretty bike.” Then, frowning and looking toward the road, she said. “Is Starling with you?”

  “Nah. She’s gone to meet Charlie. She dropped me off at home and was going to swing by here, but I told her I had some shopping to do and would come over and let you know. She seemed anxious to get going before Charlie changed his mind.” Jaycee laughed. “I guess he must have to cancel their dates pretty often.”

  Edna chuckled in agreement. “If her luck holds, she won’t be home for dinner tonight.”

  “I hope you’re right. She seems to like him a lot.” Changing the subject, Jaycee said, “I’m on my way to the grocery store. Is there anything I can pick up for you?”

  “It’s nice of you to ask. Come inside for a minute while I check my list. If you have time, I’ll make some tea and you can tell me what you thought of the mill.”

  “Oh, wow,” Jaycee exclaimed as she lowered the kickstand on her scooter, dismounted and took off her bicycle-style helmet. “That is such an interesting place. A picture of the grist mill will be great for my book. Thanks. I’m so glad you thought of it.”

  Edna was about to ask if Starling took her to any other sites or beaches along the coast when another two-wheeled vehicle turned in from the road. This one’s engine, however, was loud enough to drown out all other sounds as it rounded the circular drive and pulled up next to them. The two women stood and stared as the black-leather clad man dismounted and removed his Darth Vader headgear. Goran Pittlani balanced the helmet on the seat of his motorcycle before coming forward.

  “Hi.” Ignoring Edna for the moment, he stared beyond her with frank admiration at Jaycee. “Goran Pittlani,” he said with a courtly bow in her direction. Staring at her, he frowned slightly. “Have we met before?”

  Jaycee shook her head. The smile on her lips left her eyes, but her tone was pleasant enough when she replied. “I’m sure we haven’t. I’m Jaycee Watkins. Nice to meet you.”

  “Goran gardens for a friend of mine,” Edna said, making further introductions. “Jaycee is a new neighbor.” She turned to study Goran’s vehicle. “I don’t understand why you don’t use a pickup instead of this thing.” His mode of transportation only added to her doubts that he was any sort of gardener.

  When he laughed, his dark eyes twinkled and vertical ridges deepened on either side of his mouth. “I do okay with my bike. When I need something bigger, I rent it.” He turned back to Jaycee, motioning to her scooter with a nod of his head. “What’s it going to be when it grows up?”

  Despite her concerns about the gardener, Edna couldn’t help chuckling as Jaycee retorted with a hint of playful annoyance, “Hey, my little Jenny suits me just fine.”

  “Jenny?” Goran’s expression held both curiosity and amusement.

  “Yes, ‘Jenny.’ You know, as in donkey. She’s hard working and dependable.” Jaycee’s mouth clamped shut as if she’d said all she was going to on the subject.

  “Donkey. Right,” was Goran’s reply.

  Edna thought it was time to interrupt their banter, entertaining as it was. She was also eager to question Goran. “I was about to make tea. Would you like to join us?”

  “My pleasure.” His look in Jaycee’s direction gave emphasis to his words.

  Edna invited them to sit at the kitchen table while she put on the kettle and arranged a plate of blueberry muffins and sugar cookies, leftovers from breakfast and lunch. As she moved between table and counter, she listened to Goran ask some of the same questions Jaycee had been answering the evening before, so she listened with only half an ear until Jaycee turned interrogator.

  “Are you from around here,” she asked him as Edna brought a tray to the table.

  “Here, let me help you.” Goran half rose and held out his hands.

  “I’ve got ‘em.” Edna had the feeling his action was more to avoid answering than to be polite, so she repeated the question as she took her seat. “I was wondering the same thing, Goran. I haven’t detected an obvious accent.”

  “I’m from lots of places. We traveled all over when I was growing up,” was all he offered as he accepted a cup of tea.

  “Was your father in the military,” Jaycee asked, choosing a muffin from the plate in the middle of the table.

  “Army.” Goran’s offhand reply was followed immediately by a smile as he finally raised his eyes from the sweets to meet Edna’s gaze. “I haven’t had homemade blueberry muffins in years. These look fresh, but this isn’t blueberry season, is it?”

  “July, usually,” Edna agreed, mentally ticking off another black mark against this man who was posing as a gardener, but had to ask about growing seasons. She decided to ask the question foremost on her mind. “Have you been a gardener long?”

  “Not really. Actually, I consider myself more of a general laborer, at this point. I’m learning, trying to work my way up to professional status.” His boyish smile charmed her, and the frankness of his answer surprised her.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” Jaycee frowned, joining in the conversation.

  As soon as she’d spoken, Goran bit into his muffin and took a minute to chew, swallow and take a sip of tea before speaking. “I dig and plow and plant things where I’m told,” he said to Jaycee with his disarming grin. “Not much expertise in it, but I don’t mind. I get plenty of fresh air and exercise.”

  The little tea party passed in the same manner for another half hour. Once her guests had gone, Jaycee to buy groceries and Goran to return to P
rovidence with the iris bulbs, Edna sighed, realizing she’d learned nothing of significance about either one. Disappointed, she wanted desperately to talk to Charlie to find out if he had any news, but she knew Starling would never forgive her if she interrupted what little time her daughter had with her policeman.

  To relieve her frustration and satisfy the need to speak with someone, Edna tried Albert’s cell phone again. As before, she was connected immediately to voice mail. She left a brief message that she hoped sounded more upbeat than she was feeling and wondered if he were in consultation with Stan’s doctors or if he’d simply forgotten to recharge his phone.

  Moving to the living room, she switched on the television to watch the evening news, but the only tidbit that distracted her mind from her recent guests was the weather forecast, predicting a storm blowing in and bringing rain for the next day. Good for the lawn and gardens, she thought. Still restless, she decided to drive down to Matunuck Beach. A walk along the sandy shore would help tire her physically and maybe allow her to sleep. Otherwise, she knew she wouldn’t relax until she’d had a chance to discuss with Charlie all the questions going around in her head, whether or not he had any answers.

  She strolled along the beach for an hour and, when she finally did go to bed and was able to fall asleep, it was only to be awakened by the ringing phone. Struggling up from a sound sleep, she squinted at her bedside clock. “’ello,” she slurred, wondering who in the world would be calling at 1:16.

  So panicky was the voice on the other end of the line that she almost didn’t recognize it as belonging to Peg.

  “Ed, something terrible has happened. Virginia’s dead.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Edna was stunned, shaken fully awake in an instant. Holding the phone to her ear, she’d heard what Peg said, but couldn’t quite believe it. She was speechless.

  “Ed?” Peg’s voice, still unnerved, rose to a near shrill. “Ed, are you there? Speak to me. Say something.”

  Finally, Edna said, “I’m here, Peg, but I don’t know what to say. Try to calm down. Take a few deep breaths and tell me what happened. Can you do that?”

  She listened to the faint sounds of Peg’s breathing for nearly half a minute. When her friend spoke again, she still sounded anxious but more composed.

  “After lunch with Renee and Guy this afternoon, Virginia said she wasn’t feeling well and went upstairs to lie down. I told her to take an antacid and that I would clean up the kitchen. I didn’t want her worrying about it. You know how she is.”

  Edna agreed as to how conscientious Virginia was, or had been. “Were Renee and Guy still with you?”

  “Oh,” Peg said, sounding as if she’d forgotten them and, after a slight pause as if to remember, said. “No. They left before Virginia said anything about feeling queasy. Stephen had gone back to work, too.”

  “Stephen? Was he at lunch with you?”

  “Yes. He almost never comes home before six in the evening, but apparently he needed something from his desk here at the house. He was surprised to find I had guests. Of course I introduced him to the Froissards, and then there was all this explaining to do about how we grew up together. I hoped he’d remember it was their mother who had been accused of stealing the brooch we found the other day and not say anything embarrassing. He’s been so obsessed about that pin, I was afraid he’d mention it.” Her voice began to quiver with stress, so she stopped talking to take a deep breath before continuing. “I expected him to go back to work once he’d said hello. I still can’t believe he decided to stay and eat with us. Thank goodness, Virginia always prepares more than enough food.”

  “If he came home at that hour, he probably would have expected to stay for lunch with you, wouldn’t he?”

  “Well, yes, I supposed he might have thought so, but I was certain he’d change his mind when he found I had company. He’s never been comfortable with strangers.”

  Or with people he knows, Edna thought, remembering how withdrawn Stephen was whenever she and Albert spent time with the Bishops. At parties, he usually searched out a quiet corner. Around a dinner table, he concentrated on his food and made only the most cursory comments to anything his dinner partners said. As a result, the Bishops’ friends who still invited them to parties learned to talk over and around him. “How did he behave with the Froissards?” Edna was very curious over Stephen’s apparent behavioral about-face.

  “Fortunately, he was attentive to everything that was said and even joined in the conversation occasionally. Can you believe it?”

  Sensing her friend had calmed down enough to return to the main reason for her call, Edna refrained from commenting on Peg’s rhetorical question and said hesitantly, “So, you and Virginia were alone when she went to her room to rest?”

  “Alone in the house, yes. Goran was in the yard, of course. He’d come in earlier for his lunch, about an hour before he left to drive down to your place. Virginia ate in the dining room with us.”

  “But you say she’s dead?” Edna’s remark came out as a question. She was still having trouble believing she’d heard correctly. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Peg’s voice began to rise with emotion again.

  “Slow down,” Edna warned. “Deep breaths, remember.”

  Obediently, Peg again took several seconds before resuming in a calmer, but still slightly quivering voice. “When she hadn’t come downstairs by five thirty, I went up to check on her.” she paused again to take several shaky breaths. “She looked awful and apparently had spent most of the afternoon in the bathroom. She complained of stomach cramps, so I got her another antacid. I made soup for dinner and brought her some on a tray. She said she still felt too nauseous to even look at it.”

  “Did you call a doctor?”

  “She didn’t want one. She said she was sure she’d be okay, just a bit of stomach flu, and not to bother.” Peg began to sob. Through her tears, she said, “Oh, Ed, I shouldn’t have listened to her. I should have called her doctor.”

  “Don’t kick yourself, Peg,” Edna said sternly. “You weren’t to know.”

  Slowly, Peg’s sniffles subsided. “I didn’t check on her again until I went up to bed after the eleven o’clock news. That’s when I found her.” Peg wasn’t crying, but it was a full minute before she managed to squeak out. “It was horrible.”

  Edna waited helplessly for a long minute. When Peg still hadn’t said anything, Edna asked, “Where’s Stephen? Isn’t he with you?” She assumed Peg wouldn’t be on the phone if her husband were with her and wondered why he wasn’t holding her, trying to soothe away her grief.

  “He’s at the police station,” came the tremulous reply.

  Edna was confused. “The police station?”

  “Yes. When I found her, I phoned nine-one-one. The police showed up a few minutes before the ambulance arrived. After the medical team confirmed Virginia was dead and took her away, the police said they needed a statement. Stephen volunteered to go down to the station to answer their questions. He didn’t tell them that I was the one who found her. I stayed home to clean up her room. She had been horribly sick.”

  “Was Stephen with you when you found her?”

  “No. He was downstairs in his office, working on some papers he needed for a meeting.”

  Edna was curious as to why Stephen would go to the police station, then realized he might have done so to get them out of the house, to give Peg some peace. Maybe he has a heart after all, she thought. Aloud, she said, “Would you like me to come stay with you?”

  “That’s kind of you, Ed, but Geoff is on his way over. I called him before I phoned you and he insisted on coming immediately. Fortunately, his room is always ready for guests or I’m afraid he’d be sleeping on the floor.”

  Speaking of her son’s eminent visit seemed to have calmed Peg further. Enough so that Edna thought she could talk more about what had happened that evening. “I suppose it’s too early to speculate what caused her death. Did they
tell you when they’d expect to have the autopsy results?”

  “They didn’t say, but I heard one of the police officers mention food poisoning. That can’t be, though.” Peg took a deep, ragged breath before starting again, but seemed to be gaining control of herself. “The police asked what we had eaten and if we’d all had the same thing. I told them yes, as far as I know. Do you suppose they think I’m hiding something because neither Stephen nor I feel sick?” She stopped speaking, and Edna could hear her breathing deeply and slowly.

  “The questions are simple routine, I’m certain,” Edna said with conviction. She was wondering what else she could say to reassure her friend when Peg spoke up.

  “Here’s Geoff now. I must go. Thank you for being you, Ed, and for listening to me.”

  Before she hung up, Edna had time only to say, “Call me, if you need anything.”

  Just as she put the receiver back into the cradle of the bedside phone, a bolt of lightning lit the room like a giant flashbulb going off. The blinding light was followed in three heartbeats by a crack of thunder so loud, Edna jumped. She was throwing back the covers to get out of bed when she saw a small shadowy figure dart through the door and across the carpet to disappear beneath the bed. Benjamin slept in the mudroom off the kitchen and was not usually allowed upstairs, but she didn’t say a word, knowing he’d feel comforted being near her while the storm raged outside.

  She swung her feet off the bed and stood. Putting on her long velveteen robe, she cinched it around her waist as she walked to the window. The wind was pelting raindrops against the glass panes. As she watched from her second-floor window, another second-long flash of lightning illuminated the entire neighborhood. At that moment, she happened to be looking across at Jaycee’s house. When she saw a dark figure standing in the center of the driveway, her hand flew to her mouth, stifling an involuntary scream. It looked like a man and it looked like he was walking toward the steps to the front porch.