“What happened with Mark this morning?”
“The manager of the botanical gardens gave him a lovely plant. It was a type he knew Summer loved. Mark’s going to plant it near the front door.”
“How does he feel about meeting his new relatives?”
“Summer left him a lengthy letter. She encouraged him to talk with his biological mother and explained what she knew of the circumstances. Summer felt Diane was a good person at heart, just young and lost when he was born.”
“It was nice of her to do that for both Diane and Mark.”
“Mark made it clear his mother is Summer. He’s willing to meet Diane, but he wants her to know where he stands.”
“She’ll respect that,” I said. “What about the other members of the family?”
“After being an only child his whole life, it’s hard for him to think in terms of sisters and a brother. He wants to meet them and thank them for being willing to help. Mark feels they’ll just have to see how things go in terms of their relationships.”
“How urgent is it that he gets treatment for his medical condition?”
“He definitely isn’t as anxious as Summer was. I think Auntie’s prediction and her mentioning what she called the mati, the evil eye, had Summer overreacting.”
“Has someone called Diane or Ken’s family members who were interested in helping Mark?”
“Not yet. I’ll do it when we’re done. What are our next steps?”
“We have our meeting this afternoon. We’ll pool our knowledge and decide after that.”
She took off her sunglasses and the straw hat. “Good. I’ll get these jeans back to Martha.”
Mary ambled off, a white-haired figure who blended into the crowd around her. I kept thinking about one of the hair clips I’d seen. I thought my mom would really like it, and it would connect her with where I was. I went back to Treasures of the Ocean.
Katrina was alone and dusting a glass case. A large man in a red plaid shirt came in right behind me. She looked up, and her eyes widened as we entered, but she wasn’t focused on me.
“Matthew, hi. What brings you here?”
I turned around to look at who was behind me.
“Do I need a reason to visit my beautiful wife?” His heavy work boots thudded against the floor as he walked toward her.
Uh oh. On a path of deception, Auntie had said.
“Of course not.” She vigorously cleaned the counter.
“I came by so we could have lunch together.”
“Again? The second time in a week? How . . . sweet.” She turned and acknowledged my presence. “You were in earlier. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes. I’d like to look at the abalone hair clips.”
“Certainly.” She gave her husband a tight smile and pulled out the tray I’d pointed to.
As I examined them, she said to her husband, “With the owner gone, remember I only have an hour off for lunch. I have to be back at one.”
“That’ll be enough for us to catch a quick bite.”
She flashed him a minuscule smile that never reached her eyes. “Rachel will be here in a few minutes to take over for me.”
I chose a long silver clasp. The shell’s teal blue, purple, green, and flashes of pink swirled together with pearlescent overtones. Katrina ran my card and wrapped the present.
“Thank you,” she said as she handed the package to me.
A woman entered the shop.
Katrina lifted her chin and looked at her husband. “Rachel’s here. Time for lunch.”
As I left the store, the rest of Auntie’s prediction came back to me.
Walk the path of deception and there will be a price to pay.
It was clear where Katrina’s heart was and was not. If she worked the hours she told her husband, we could drop her as a suspect for poisoning the tea. I’d be grateful to cross Katrina off. The fewer names on the list, the better.
Chapter 18
I walked back to the inn and entered through the front entrance. I was surprised to find Sue Ellen in the parlor with a book open on the table in front of her. She turned to me, and I noted that the lavender outfit suited her creamy skin, blond hair, and light blue eyes.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m waiting for Ken, and I noticed the books detailing the history of this place when we checked in.” She smiled at me. “I’m a history buff.”
I hadn’t expected this. I’d only heard her express an interest in spas up to this point.
“Is there any era or place that you particularly enjoy?”
“No, not really. I try to learn as much as I can about this area. It makes it more interesting to educate myself about where I live and areas near it, and I like to visit places where events happened.”
“Is there anything special you’ve found in our books?”
“The day-to-day life of people back in the eighteen hundreds was amazing. How much effort they had to put into simple chores we take for granted now. Just think about washing clothes. I toss a load in the machine, put the clothes in the dryer a while later, fold, and I’m done. Back then, if you were lucky you had a hand-cranked tub and lines to hang your clothes on. Too bad if it was rainy.”
“Do you and Ken have anything planned for this afternoon?”
“We’re going over to the botanical gardens. Edie’s taking a class there, and we said we’d join her and John for lunch.” Sue Ellen closed the book, put it back on the shelf, and turned to me. “I’m sorry you’ve had to get involved with our family issues.”
I shrugged. “I chose to do it to help out.”
“Ken and I met when I was working as a bookkeeper in one of his dealerships.” Her lips pressed together. “He told me he’d never been involved with a woman enough to marry her.”
I decided that silence was the best course of action.
Sue Ellen frowned. “The surprises from the past that wait for us in the present.”
I wanted to get on my way. “I hope you enjoy your lunch.” I started to walk away.
“Speaking of the past,” Sue Ellen continued, “I found some great information at the fortune teller’s place. I had an opportunity to read some of Auntie’s midwife journals, and they were fascinating.”
She knew Auntie? I stopped walking. She must have noticed my puzzled look.
“I know you talked with Edie and are aware they were planning to go into business together. John checked her background, and I looked at her books. We wanted to get an idea of how she handled her accounts. I was over there at the beginning of this week. What I found was a very detailed person who respected people’s privacy.”
I glanced out the window. Ken was descending the stairs. If I was going to find out anything, I’d have to act fast.
“Were the journals part of the bookkeeping?” I asked, confused as to how they fit in.
“Heavens, no. We began talking, and she showed me some of the books she had about Redwood Cove. I noticed a series of leather-bound volumes in the bookcase and asked about them. She told me they were her records from when she was a midwife and invited me to look at them. She kept a record of the people involved, any special circumstances, and how the birth went.”
Auntie had brought Mark into the world, and his birth would’ve been recorded there. I wondered if Sue Ellen had found out about the marriage and the existence of a son when she was at Auntie’s. I decided to stop at the cottage on my way to the gardens and see what I could find.
Ken arrived and said, “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
He nodded at me, and the two left.
I grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed out. I took the turn that led to Auntie’s cottage. I parked in front of her place, retrieved the key from where Mary had hidden it, and went in the back, as we’d done before.
The house was silent. Dead silent. The stale air imparted a lack of life to the place.
I shivered in spite of the house being warm inside.
Despina and her sisters
would want me to do this. Anything to get closer to the killer. I continued on.
In the living room, I scanned the bookcase and found a series of brown, leather-covered books labeled “midwife” with dates on their spines. The third one contained the years that included Mark’s birth. I’d seen the date on the certificate. I pulled it out and began to leaf through it.
I found what Auntie had written about Mark’s entrance into the world. Ken’s name and Diane’s were there. She had included Diane’s maiden name and a brief description of the wedding and noted the time of Mark’s birth. A paragraph below told of Diane’s rejection of the child, Summer’s adoption, and Martha’s submitting the marriage certificate.
I didn’t know which books Sue Ellen had read. She could have found this. It would’ve told her that Ken had been married and alerted her to Mark’s existence. Their biggest problem was the lack of a divorce. With today’s access to the Internet, if she’d thought to check, she could’ve found out.
Should I take the book as evidence?
Yes.
Was that me talking to myself or Despina telling me what to do?
I left quickly, locking the door and replacing the key. Where could I put the book for safekeeping? I decided to check where the spare tire was kept. I pulled up the section of floor that covered it, revealing the tire and enough room to tuck the book away. Wrapping the book with a towel, I tucked it next to the tire and pulled some blankets I kept in the back over the area as an extra precaution.
Time was getting short for me to do what I wanted to do and meet the Sentinels on time. I hurried down the highway.
A three-day weekend brought out the crowds, and the lot was almost full. I went up and down a couple of rows and finally spied an empty space. I headed for the visitors’ center, passing Ken’s car on the way. Daisy was in the back with the door open, bent over her phone, thumbs flying. The ride with Tank must’ve been a short one.
I entered the building and found a small gift shop, a place to buy tickets, and a display full of information about the gardens. The store had an eclectic offering of live plants, fake ones, the usual tourist doodads, and some creative pieces of art by local painters and craftspeople.
On the far side of the building, I noticed Sue Ellen checking out a display of earrings. I looked around for Ken and saw him in an adjacent hallway, his fingers punching away on his phone. Daughter and father, for sure.
The area dedicated to informing the guests about the garden was filled with books, photographs, and maps on the wall, detailing the different areas in the garden. The grounds bordered the Pacific Ocean and included a place called the Vista Room at the cliff’s edge. A series of photos showed large topiary figures. One of them reminded me of a stuffed bear with round arms and legs. A man had positioned himself next to it so people could gauge its size. It stood well above the person’s head. Another photo showed the same creature outfitted in strings of lights that created a flowing scarf and twinkling eyes.
At the ticket sales register, I walked up to a woman wearing glasses and a long-sleeved, cream-colored shirt with REDWOOD COVE BOTANICAL GARDENS on the shoulder.
“Hi. I’m Kelly Jackson, and I’m working at one of the booths tomorrow. I came over today to find my spot. This is my first time here, and I heard your place covered a lot of acres. I wanted to be sure I didn’t spend too much time searching around for where I’ll need to be.”
“I’m Judy Hanson. Pleased to meet you. Yes, it’s quite large.” She put a map on the counter. “The spaces are numbered, but the table won’t be put up until tomorrow morning. What’s the name of your group?”
“It’s Lodgings of Redwood Cove.”
Judy checked a list, then bent over the garden’s layout. Even though it was upside down, she had no trouble circling one area.
“You’re right here.” She handed me the map, then pointed to the sliding-glass doors behind her. “Head out that way, and hang a left at the end of the patio. Follow the signs for the Parade of Cartoon Characters and then for Shady Glen.”
“What kind of parade is it?”
“We’ve created gigantic topiary figures based on cartoon characters like Winnie the Pooh, Eeyore, and Tigger, and we have a parade with them at Christmas. We decorate the figures with lots of lights. It’s a favorite event for tourists and locals.”
“I think I saw a picture from it on the wall.”
“Yes, photos of Winnie the Pooh are over there, showing him before and after decorating. We keep the figures lined up on display in one area during the year here at the gardens. People can see how they work from the inside. It’s a much smaller version of the Rose Parade.”
I thanked her and followed her directions. A class was in session in a grassy area just past the patio. A man had placed a variety of potted plants on a table with placards in front of them. As I watched, I saw people begin to get up. Gertie stood next to Edie, engaged in conversation. Edie pointed one way and Gertie the other. They smiled at each other and took off in their respective directions. I’d find out what that was about later.
The lush gardens were a feast for the eyes and the senses. Blooming flowers provided bursts of a myriad of colors all in a green background, ranging from deep and dark to bright and light. Their fragrance permeated the area and occasionally mingled with the ocean’s saltiness when sudden gusts of wind pushed through the trees. Bird songs filled the air, from high in the trees to peeps among the plants. The mossy path felt spongy in some places, a soft cushion for my feet. It was a magical place.
A sign that pointed to the left said, “Vista Room twenty feet.” I decided to take a look. A wooden structure appeared as I rounded a corner of the path and entered a quiet glen. I opened the door and found a cabin-like interior with unpainted wood floors and walls. Picnic tables and benches took up most of the space. A fireplace occupied one corner, with wood stacked beside it. Announcements on the wall listed events and classes at the garden. It looked like a great place for people to enjoy lunch while being protected from the coastal winds.
The wall facing the ocean was all glass. I walked over, looked out, and inhaled sharply as I stepped back. A momentary sense of dizziness made me unsteady. I’d seen crashing water and craggy rocks far, far below. The building was on the edge of a sheer cliff. I thought of the California earthquakes I’d read about and decided it was time to leave.
I walked back to the original path I’d been following. On my right and down a grassy slope, a creek meandered beside me. The gentle eddies and slowly swirling water carried the occasional leaf on a circular path. Here, too, flowers shared their beauty with passersby.
I reached the beginning of the parade and recognized Winnie the Pooh from the pictures. A long-eared rabbit was next. I marveled at the size of the structure. It was probably over ten feet tall. Green leaves covered the entire animal. Its rotund body had a small round tail. The head was up, and the ears went down its back. Wheels protruded from the bottom of the figure. Wooden blocks had been placed in front of them to prevent them from moving. The next one, in the shape of a tiger, was even taller and had a note saying it was Tigger. Winnie the Pooh’s buddies were there.
The last one looked like an oversized horse; then I saw the long ears. I had found Winnie’s donkey friend, Eeyore. The back of the topiary animal was open, and a sign invited people to enter. Chicken wire had been used for the door. I could see the edges had been rolled under to keep the sharp ends from scratching people. Ducking down, I entered the enclosure, watching my step as a sign instructed.
On the inside, the same wire created the shape and gave the plants a form to follow. Pots of plants lined the wooden floor on each side, their tendrils grasping the metal. An explanation attached to one side explained how they pulled the vines to the outside and intertwined them with the wire. A steering wheel occupied the front, with a rectangular opening above it for looking out, and there was a place for a small engine. A note said those were stored elsewhere between parades.
&n
bsp; I stood at the front and looked through the hole cut into the leaves. There wasn’t much peripheral vision, but I was sure the parade would be a slow one and along a well-known route. Being able to see a lot wasn’t a priority. Several people could fit in the beast. Fun! I was in a Trojan donkey . . . of sorts.
It got darker inside the leafy animal, and I turned. The wind must’ve closed the door. I went to it and pushed. Nothing happened. I noticed a latch for a handle, but it wasn’t latched. Puzzled, I pushed again.
The creature began to move. How could that be? I’d seen the blocks in front of the wheels. Suddenly it picked up momentum. The wheels creaked. I could feel it start to turn right, and it began to tilt forward. It was heading toward the creek.
“Help!” I yelled.
Then I heard the voice.
“Mind your own business, or you’ll have no business to mind.”
The screeching wheels almost kept me from being able to hear the words.
“Who are you? Let me out of here!” I screamed.
The only response I heard was a grunt. Then the plant vehicle began to accelerate—downhill. I stumbled to the front and saw what might be an emergency brake. I pulled on it, and the vehicle slowed, but the sculpture was too heavy to stop.
The donkey, with me stuck inside, continued to race downward. I heard a splash, and water filled the bottom of the structure. Eeyore and I came to an abrupt halt as the wheels sank into the mud of the bank. I took a deep breath. We were leaning downhill. Water flowed by up to my knees, but at least we weren’t moving. I began to inch backward on the wooden floor. The donkey wobbled. I breathed deeply and inched back some more. I felt the animal sway with the current. I couldn’t see out through the vines.
I turned carefully, crawled to the back, and began to follow the line of the door with my fingers. It wasn’t easy with all the leaves. Something was holding it closed, and I needed to find what it was. Partway between the handle and the top of the door, I found several pieces of wire twisted together.
The person had uncoiled the edge and connected the chicken wire with the edge of the door. I’d worked with the stuff on the ranch and knew it would grab at any opportunity. The structure hadn’t moved right away. As I was turning, they must have been twisting. I hadn’t been able to see anything because it was dark and the vines had hidden the movement.
Murder at the Fortune Teller's Table Page 11
