“Press? There's press here?” I looked around.
“I’m kidding,” he said. “Uncle Albert wasn't that famous. Some of his associates are.”
He wasn't as good looking as George Clooney face up. Or, let’s say, not the George Clooney I knew from photographs and movies. He had a sharpness about the eyes that suggested sneaky intent, though the champagne could be running away with me. He was thinner, too. Higher cheekbones, narrow face.
I stopped my good looks critique and said, “My name's Fiona Marlowe. I'm the interior designer who found Mr. Lodge in the library.”
“Really? You?”
“Yes. I found your uncle lying in front of the couch, like he was sleeping. I thought it odd he chose the floor. He had a noble profile and handsome white hair. When the medics turned him over he looked very dapper in vest and tweeds, trim, fit. Such a pity. I am so sorry.”
“Do you think it was an accident?” he asked, guiding me out of the crowd of dancing couples to a more secluded corner of the room.
“I think so,” I said, lying through my teeth. We detectives had to maintain our cover. “There was no sign of foul play. No blood.”
“Must have been a horrid experience for you.”
“Shocking, yes. Ruined my day.”
“I'm terribly sorry you were involved. Shall we sit the next one out? Another champagne? I'm afraid they took yours away. The wait staff is frightfully efficient.”
“Champagne would be nice.”
He lifted two from a tray that went by, and I followed him to a corner settee. The crisp autumn evening cut the closeness of the crowd. I wondered what this man wanted.
“You're beautiful, has anyone ever told you that?” he asked, gazing into my eyes.
He wanted an easy touch. He had picked the wrong broad.
“Thank you. All my dates tell me that.” My lips danced a twitchy smile, and he laughed.
“I was just testing.”
“Nice try. I think maybe you should hustle someone your age.”
“I like older women.”
“Lucky me. Not to change the subject, but do you think your uncle's death involved foul play?”
“Definitely.”
I arched my eyebrows. “Why do you think that?”
“Because Uncle Albert was a philanderer.”
“Come now. Wasn't he a bit old?”
“Not Uncle Al. Olivia was a lot younger than he. Viagra put him back in the running. That might have killed him. He might have had a few married ones in the string. Maybe a disgruntled husband got wind of the assignation and did old Uncle Albert in. His latest young thing is here.” He nodded and I turned to look. “That's her over there with Cody. Stunning, isn't she?
It was the blond Jake had pointed out at the memorial service. Full face, she was even lovelier than in profile.
“I don't know how he did it,” Roger said. “I’m sure the money made him look good to sweet young things. We had hardly cast Olivia’s ashes to the wind before he had this one.”
“I heard it was more serious on his part than hers.”
“Did you? Even so, she probably tried to entice the old boy into leaving her something in his will.”
“Interesting angle.” I was filing all this in my sleuthing file. “So who gets the estate?” I was being very smooth.
He tossed back the rest of the champagne before answering. “I hope it will be divided up among the family. I could use some. The financial markets haven't been kind to me lately. We will know tomorrow.”
Aha. A relative with a motive. I went out on a limb. “Do you think someone in the family wanted him dead?”
He gave me a flashy grin. “Anyone could have wanted him dead. Whoever gets the money would be suspect in my book. Now if you will excuse me? I enjoyed our dance.”
He made his way across the room to the dazzling blond. Good choice on his part, but I could hear the hiss of my deflating ego as it zoomed around the room like a pricked balloon.
Chapter 5
I wandered toward the kitchen in search of a cup of coffee and my erstwhile partner, Jake, who had disappeared. As I passed a stand of potted shrubs, I caught a snatch of conversation and paused.
“I have no idea what is in the will,” a woman was saying. “Opal has been terribly closed lipped. If the estate gets divided up, there should be plenty for everyone.”
“I hope that blond doesn't get it,” said another.
“Why would he leave anything to her?”
“You don't know what gets whispered across pillows, do you?”
Albert’s money was the big topic tonight. I could understand why. Money drives the world now, doesn't it?
In the kitchen I retrieved a cup of espresso a waiter was serving from a side counter and dawdled over the sugar server, listening to another conversation. A striking woman, a dead ringer for Elizabeth Taylor, was holding court by the patio doors. Three slick suited men laughed at something she was saying, which I couldn’t hear since she spoke in hushed tones. I wondered if she were another of Albert’s conquests. Even though she was dressed in severe black, hers was the kind of face that would launch a thousand ships. I wondered if Jake knew who she was and wandered back outside to find him.
A brick path meandered off to the side of the house where the Alice in Wonderland hedge was located. I had a sudden urge to see diamonds, hearts, spades and clubs. Who knew what conversations I'd hear on the way? I strolled along the path keeping an eye and ear peeled for clues. Lights from the pantry passageway cast a glow on the brick path. The solarium itself was dark. Odd. You'd think it would be lit for the party. I mean wake.
Garden lamps lit the card hedge, and I ran my hand over the sculpted bushes. I detected strange grunting sounds coming from the solarium. Could someone be in trouble? Was someone being attacked? Maybe that was why the solarium was dark. I burst through the door without thinking, intent on rescue, and stopped dead in my tracks. Straddled in the chair was a couple in various stages of dishabille. The girl yelped. The guy put a finger to her mouth.
“Gosh,” I said rather lamely. “Sorry to interrupt. I thought someone was being attacked.”
The guy laughed. The girl giggled. She buried her face in his hairy, naked chest. I couldn't be sure since the light was dim, but it looked like the tall husband of the dumpy niece Jake pointed out at the service. That didn't look like his wife. Wrong color hair. I hoped it wasn't one of his cousins.
I backed out and fled, slamming the door behind me. Good grief, what next? I didn’t want to speculate on what might be going on in the bedrooms upstairs. I hurried toward to the kitchen, intent on finding Jake to compare notes. When he wasn’t in the kitchen, I started around the dance floor looking for him. A young man asked me to dance, and I couldn't refuse. The disc jockey was playing rap music. Arms flailed and hips gyrated. I was right in the thick of things.
I had no idea who I danced with but my feet were sore by the time most of the guests left in the wee hours of morning. The few left standing scattered about the drawing room and patio. I retreated to the library where I collapsed on the couch and kicked my shoes off. I loved high heels but they were hell to dance in. My hand cradled a steaming mug of coffee. I wasn't sure where Jake had disappeared. He hadn’t been on the dance floor. Someone had opened the window to the library, and a cool breeze cleared the stuffy room.
Hudson came in and headed for the open window. It was the first time I had seen him all night. He latched the window and closed the heavy drapes.
“Hello, Hudson,” I said from the depths of the couch.
He turned stiffly, like his neck was bothering him. “Miss Marlowe, I didn't see you. Did you enjoy the wake?”
“I have to say, it was the best I've ever attended. Albert's family and friends are a lively bunch.”
He smiled, stopping before me. “Mind if I join you? I need to catch my breath.”
I patted the seat, and he sat down with a deep sigh.
“You did a splen
did job of orchestrating the affair.”
“Thank you, Miss Marlowe. Might I use you for a reference when the time comes?” He smiled with the twinkle in his eye.
“You're joking, of course. You won't have any trouble finding employment. Hasn't Opal invited you to take over at her ranch?”
His face clouded over. “No. I'm afraid I'm not cut out for the American West. I feel rather more comfortable in civilized society, and, of course, she hasn't asked.”
Hudson's proper English facade did not invite questions. However, my impertinence couldn't resist asking, “What will you do?”
A few moments passed before he ventured a reply. The soft light from the end table lamps nestled between us. The room smelled of leather and books. It was peaceful sitting with Hudson. I was developing a fondness for the old boy.
At last, he said, “I'm thinking of retiring. I'm getting on in years, you know, and butlering isn't what it used to be. I'm afraid I'm terribly old fashioned. Modern young people don't have the respect for the profession that the older generation had.”
“Retirement sounds like a great idea. Would you stay in the area?”
“I’ll return to England. I own a small cottage in Cornwall that was in my family. It will make a perfect place to spend my old age. I do rather miss England, you see.”
“It sounds lovely. I've been to Cornwall. The sea views are breathtaking.”
“Yes.” His chin slumped to his chest, and he sat staring at the Persian carpet, maybe lost in the sea view from his cottage. His eyes closed, and we sat in silence. The last few days had caught up to him, and I had no intention of disturbing his repose.
I gazed about the room thinking what a shame to redo this conservative old library. That was a heretical statement coming from someone who always jumped at the chance to spruce things up. Bookshelves covered three walls. A gas log fire turned down low made a pleasant contrast to shadows hugging the far sides of the room.
Hudson’s eyes fluttered open, and he sat up. “Goodness, I'm sorry to have imposed on you, Miss Marlowe.” He rose. “Now I must see to my duties and look in on the hired staff to make sure everything gets put up properly and laid out for breakfast. You'll excuse me?”
I nodded and smiled. “I enjoyed our interlude, Hudson, and I certainly wish you well. If you need that reference, I'll be glad to oblige.”
He nodded and walked stiffly out.
I finished my coffee. Turning off the end table lamps, I stretched out on the couch, meaning to close my eyes just a few minutes. I was still there when the sun rose. Someone had draped a hand knitted afghan over me. I squinted to see the time. Nine A.M. I snuggled back under the cover, fully intending to go back to sleep since it was one of the things I do best and enjoy so much. As fortune would have it, I heard footsteps come to a stop by the couch. I ventured to open one eye.
“Rest well, Fiona?” Jake asked. He placed a fragrant mug of coffee on the stand beside my head.
I sniffed the air in appreciation.
“Amazingly well.” I coughed and put my arm over my eyes as he opened the drapes. “That light is awfully bright.”
“The day's half over. If you want a ride, you better get up. Breakfast is laid out in the dining room, if you're feeling a bit peckish, as the English say.”
I grunted my way into a sitting position. Jake sat down on the end of the couch and checked me over.
“You don't look half bad when you wake up.”
“Thanks. My dates always say that. How did the mission turn out? Get any good dope?”
“Matter of fact, I did. I got to speak to some of Albert's colleagues and family while you were dancing the night away.”
“Sharing any secrets this morning?”
“None.”
“I got to talk to a few folks myself. We have to exchange notes. Might I add, you don't look bad yourself for staying up all night. Your suit isn't wrinkled.”
He covered a huge yawn with his fist. “All in the line of duty. Opal and I had a long conversation before she finally called it a night.”
“You already had breakfast?”
“Yeah, around six A.M. I did a little work on the Internet, chasing down leads. C'mon, get some breakfast. It's quite a spread. Then I'll take you back to your car.”
I sipped on the coffee, not quite ready to bolt into the day. I have a diesel engine. It takes me a while to warm up. “Allow me to finish my coffee. It was sweet of you to bring me a cup. I want to hear who you talked to.”
“Not here,” he said.
“Geez, Jake, you act like the room is bugged.”
Then it struck me. It was. That's why Jake kept telling me to shut up. I'm quick. I wondered if Jake was the bugger. The realization on my face made him smile. Smug but a smile.
“All right, will you please get off my divan, so that I might rise?”
He stood and offered me a hand.
Breakfast was laid out on a buffet replete with silver service and lace tablecloth. I loaded up on eggs Benedict, sausage, bacon, toast, fresh pineapple, and more coffee. Jake had a round of sausage and scrambled eggs.
Cody, the nephew, was sitting at the dining room table, and we joined him.
“Good morning,” he said, chirping like an annoying canary. “Here sit by me.”
He removed the Washington Post from the seat next to him.
I plopped into the seat and winced.
“Too much to drink?” he asked.
“It's my feet. I haven't danced that much in years.”
“One of the cousins was the deejay. She's great, isn't she?”
“I'll say. Where are you from, Cody?”
“Southeast Oregon. My family has a ranch there.”
“So you're a rancher.”
“Yes, ma'am. I got a degree in range management at Oregon State University. I help at Aunt Opal's ranch.”
“Your aunt is quite a woman.”
“She is, but she needs to retire. I keep telling her that but she thrives on ranch work.”
“What's on the agenda for today?”
“The lawyer. The will's going to be read, but some of the family aren’t going to like what they hear.”
“Why's that?”
“Uncle Albert left his money to charity.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Opal told me.”
I turned to Jake who had finished his second breakfast.
“Did you know this?”
Jake burped creatively behind his napkin and said, “Yup, I knew that.”
“You didn't tell me.”
“Just found out this morning.”
Cody leaned around me toward Jake. “That’s why she hired Jake.”
I looked at Jake again. “I thought no one in the family knew you were hired.”
“Opal told Cody last night.”
Boy, I missed a lot between dancing and sleeping. These people had been busy. I looked back and forth between the two of them. Cody had a big, Cheshire cat grin. Jake was eying the pastry plate on the table, avoiding my gaze.
“I thought we were a team,” I said.
“I'll get into it later,” said Jake.
“I'd really like to get into it now.”
Jake put his arm across the back of my Chippendale chair. “How about I take you home? We'll discuss it on the way.”
“How about you tell me now,” I said. I was feeling spiteful.
Cody said, “Opal hired Jake because she wanted to be sure that no one in the family had taken it upon themselves to do Albert in. I don't blame her. Uncle Al was a nice guy, but he had his faults.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Opal knows Albert’s left the money to charity but she hires Jake anyway because someone in the family could have wanted him dead. She calls Jake the day of the murder to have him start investigating. She throws a party so Jake could meet all the players, and I’m the girlfriend cover except that you disappear for the rest of the night. The blond might want some of his mon
ey, family members want his money and maybe Hudson wants a cut. Albert’s in financial difficulty so there’s no money to leave to charities. The family will be upset because the non-existent money is left to charity.”
Jake and Cody both looked at me with what I thought was new respect. I felt vindicated.
“Good process of deduction,” said Jake “Now let’s go. I’ve got work to do.”
“What time is the appointment with the lawyer, Cody?” I asked.
“Two o’clock, I believe.”
“Are you going?”
“Yes, I’m chauffeur and general all around gofer.”
“Good luck.”
“Well,” I said to Jake on the drive back in his truck, “I guess that ends that. He left the money to charity except that after all the debts are paid off there’s no money.”
“Still a lot of motive out there. No one knew the contents of the will.”
“I don't think it was family.”
“No? Why do you say that?”
“I didn't hear any compelling motive from the family last night in my information gathering, except for Roger who seems to be in a bit of financial trouble. Did you?”
“What did you hear?”
“Lots of conversation about what's in the will. I interrupted one couple humping in the solarium.”
“No kidding?” Jake laughed. “I did, too. In the library, on the couch where you were sleeping.”
“Dear me Horny bunch. Who did you interrupt?”
“The flashy blond and I think the nephew you were dancing with.”
“My, he works fast.” My ego deflated another ten notches. Look what I had missed. I picked up the thread of inquiry again. “I think Albert was a spy.”
Jake nodded like he was interested. “Find any evidence of that?”
“Well, no.”
“I don't think you should consider private investigation as a career.”
Jake pulled into the parking space beside my car at the church parking lot.
“Here we are party girl.”
“Hey, wait a minute. We were going to exchange notes. What did you find out?”
Jake stared out the window, looking none the worse for wear save for puffy eyes.
Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) Page 5
