by Annie Irvin
Well, he seems calm enough, Harper thought, remembering how his temper flared the other day. With some trepidation she held open the door and motioned for Mickey to come inside, wondering what could be on his mind at this time of night. She offered him a chair and considered offering him a drink, but before she could decide whether to or not, he spoke up.
“I don’t know how you decide who’s guilty and who isn’t, at least when it comes to murder. As far as adultery, I’m sure you have a supply of stones ready for Summer and me.”
“It’s not like that, Mickey. I don’t really care what you or Summer do with your private lives. I’m not like Grace Potter who has to know what goes on in other people’s bedrooms.”
“You could have fooled me,” Mickey jeered.
“Is that the reason you came here this evening? To sneer at me because you think I’m sitting in judgment on you because of your affair with Summer?”
“No. I got a call from Lawrence Hart. He said you visited him. I guess you thought he might have had a hand in killing Grace Potter.”
“Look, Mickey,” Harper began, but Mickey held up his hand.
“I came here to tell you I was the person Lawrence Hart was talking to at the time Grace got her just rewards.”
Sitting down on the sofa, Harper gaped at Mickey. Wow! He was the one wanting pastoral counseling? What a shocker.
“I decided to line up this counseling thing with Hart,” he explained. Looking down at his hands, he sighed. “I don’t think I need to tell you why. I told Lucy I needed to go to the bathroom but instead I met up with Summer right around dark. I called it quits between us. She was mad as heck but I have to take care of my family first.”
“Did you tell her you planned on getting counseling?”
“Yes, I did. She laughed at the idea, said I was full of, well, full of it. I’d seen Lawrence Hart wandering around with his family and I decided to ask him that night if he’d see me and Lucy for marriage counseling. I didn’t want to chicken out. Of course, I wanted to ask him in private. I wasn’t ready to tell Lucy anything. So after I left Summer, I found Lawrence and asked him to meet me on the far side of the Inn, where it would be dark and we wouldn’t be seen. We talked until the fire had mostly burned itself out.”
“Guess that would seem to clear you and Pastor Hart,” Harper said. But it doesn’t clear Summer, she thought as Mickey stood to leave. Harper walked with him to the door.
“So we’re good? You can quit thinking I was in the shed with Grace?”
“Appears that way,” Harper said, glad this disgusting man was leaving her house. She watched him walk down the porch steps, climb into his truck and drive away.
Bastard, she thought. If he really wanted to take care of his family he would have kept it in his pants and not in his sister-in-law.
Feeling totally exhausted now, Harper curled up on the couch again and finished off her glass of wine. She contemplated going for another glassful, but before she could reach a decision, Bruno had serenaded her to sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Harper opened her eyes, squinted at the Sunday morning daylight slicing through the chocolate brown bedroom drapes and shoved back the ivory quilt. Stumbling into the bathroom, she hopped into the shower, letting the spray of water hit her in her face to wake her up. After toweling herself off, she briefly considered throwing on a pair of warm, snugly sweats. Instead she dressed in brown tweed slacks and a rose-colored sweater. She’d taken Naylor’s advice and bought the paisley scarf, now knotted loosely around her neck. After slapping a little makeup on her face, she picked out a set of antique gold earrings to wear. They were expensive and her favorite pair.
Giving herself one more glance in the bedroom mirror, Harper decided she looked good enough to do justice to Violet’s rib roast later in the day.
The weatherman had promised sunshine with above average temperatures. Still, the early morning air was chilly and Harper dug a navy pea coat out of the closet before driving to the Inn where Olivia welcomed her into the warm, familiar kitchen.
While Harper slipped out of her coat and poured herself a cup of coffee, Violet sniffed contentedly at the still warm pie resting on a cooling rack at the back of the kitchen counter.
“If that isn’t one of your better peach pies, Olivia, I’ll eat my apron.”
“It did turn out pretty,” Olivia admitted, eyeing the lightly browned crust. “I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
“If smell is any indication, it has to taste delicious.”
“Your roast smells wonderful, too,” Olivia said kindly.
“I told Jack Morgan I wanted his best one to feed ten people. And have a few leftovers, too.”
Olivia laughed. “It looked like half a cow when you put it in the roaster.”
“Shepherd’s pie for supper,” Violet said as she checked her yeast rolls.
“They need to rise a little longer and then I’ll slide the pan into the oven,” she said. “I baked a coconut cream cake, too, Harper. I want this dinner to speak to young Alice Hoover. I want it to say ‘welcome to this wonderful old house where you can hang your hat and feel at home.’ We get all the cooking and baking odors drifting through the rooms today and Grace Potter won’t have a chance of coming through.”
“Grace didn’t get herself murdered out here on purpose,” Olivia reminded Violet.
“Hmmph. The way that woman stuck her nose into everyone’s business and broadcast rumors all over town, it’s no wonder she got hers,” Violet snorted.
Olivia shook her head and looked at Harper who interjected, “Well, Violet, if your roast and cream cake can’t soften up Alice Hoover then nothing can.”
Violet glanced out the kitchen window and stared at the distant garden shed. “I don’t think it depends as much on Alice as it does on Grace,” she muttered.
Ezra strode in from the dining room and announced, “I got the two big tables pushed together and ten chairs ready to go. It will work out real nice for seating. Plenty of room for all.”
Violet and Harper retrieved an oversized table cloth and matching napkins from the cupboard in the butler’s pantry and took them into the dining room. After spreading the white damask over the tables, the women put the napkins in place while Ezra, under Violet’s direction, maneuvered the chairs around the table.
Violet slipped pink tapers into two highly polished silver candlesticks and arranged them on the table. She placed the old Waterford family silver tea service on a sideboard by the kitchen door.
Olivia laid out the good china dishes and cut glass stemware. She finished off the table with two cut glass crystal bowls which she filled with late Autumn Sunset roses that Ezra had cut for her.
Standing in the center of the dining room and surveying their handiwork, Ezra remarked to the three women, “It’s too pretty to mess it up with eatin’.”
“We haven’t put something like this together for a long time,” Olivia sighed, soaking up the beauty of her table.
Ezra practically strutted. “It's a work of art, if I do say so m’self,” he boasted.
“Just as long as we don’t get any uninvited guests, or should I say, ghosts, we’ll be fine,” Violet snorted on her way back to the kitchen.
Harper saw Olivia roll her eyes at Ezra who said, “If Violet can’t see it, feel it, hear it or smell it, well then, ‘it’ just doesn’t exist for her. In this case, ‘it’ is the ghost Alice thinks she sees. Or feels. Whatever.” He shrugged his shoulders and left to put on a fresh shirt.
A few minutes later, Lonnie and Paul walked into the kitchen. Paul came to a sudden stop, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“Ahhh, is this the best day ever or what?”
“The way to Paul’s heart is definitely through his stomach, Violet. He’s talked about your roast all morning.”
Violet patted Paul’s arm and smiled but didn’t say anything.
“It will be a pleasant little dinner,” Olivia assured them. “James, Aaron
and the Hoovers are all nice young people and I’m sure the boys will come across as more than acceptable replacements for Grace Potter. I talked with them at length the other day. Hopefully, this transfer will go smoothly.”
Paul put an arm across his mother-in-law’s shoulders. “So, Olivia, you’re setting the stage by serving home-cooked food with the graciousness of the Inn as a backdrop? Can’t you just point out to Alice how the Inn is a money maker and they’ll make a comfortable living here?”
Before Olivia could answer Paul, Lonnie cocked her head to one side and cut in. “We’ve been married all these years and you still don’t understand a woman’s way of thinking, do you? It’s more than just money a woman invests in to secure her future. If the tree isn’t right, Mrs. Bird won’t build her nest in it.”
“Bird? Nest? I guess you lost me.”
“Well, never mind then.”
“Harper,” Paul asked, turning toward his sister-in-law, “my wife never does answer my questions. I asked her this morning if this sweater I’m wearing makes me look preppy. She never answered me. So I’ll ask you. Does it make me look preppy?”
“Does anyone still use the word ‘preppy’?” Harper laughed.
“Look at his shoes,” Lonnie said, pointing to Paul’s feet. “Those old brown loafers are almost worn out. They’re horrible.”
“And don’t even think about throwing them in the trash,” Paul commanded.
“Throwing those shoes in the trash isn’t something I need to think about at all, dear. It’s one of those no-brainers.”
“I hear a car drivin’ up,” Ezra said, poking his head into the kitchen while he straightened his bright red bowtie. Harper smiled at the sight. Ezra seemed determined to help set the stage for the Hoovers, too.
Everyone trooped into the foyer where they could observe the arrival of their guests through the heavy lace curtains covering the tall front windows. They watched Aaron park his car and scoot out from under the steering wheel. He adjusted the crisp collar of his shirt and smoothed a lapel of his navy sport jacket. James, looking well-pressed in his sport jacket and carrying a black leather briefcase, slid out of the passenger’s seat.
The Hoovers pulled up a minute later and parked their Ford Explorer behind Aaron’s car. Mead’s long, lanky legs tumbled out of the vehicle, followed by the rest of his lean body. Harper watched him walk around to the passenger side where he opened the door for his wife.
“Check out those spiffy manners,” she commented to the others.
Alice’s descent took a bit more effort as she wiggled to the edge of the seat, swiveled her short pudgy legs around to the outside, and dropped several inches to the ground. Mead heaved a large suitcase and a duffel bag from the back seat. After Mead declined James’ and Aaron’s help with the luggage, the foursome traipsed up the front porch steps.
Olivia greeted her guests in the foyer and urged everyone to join her in the front parlor.
“I always wondered what a front parlor looked like,” Aaron said. “It’s just a living room, isn’t it?”
“In the old days, houses had front and back parlors,” Olivia informed him. “Guests would visit in the front parlor, then eat in the dining room, and finally retire to the rear parlor after dinner.”
“Is there a rear parlor here?” James asked.
“Yes, it’s used as a family room now. It’s where Harper and Lonnie watched television and played the piano when they were growing up. And where Harper’s son, Lincoln, and Lonnie’s daughter, Claire, did the same when they were young and would come stay overnight.”
“Would you like me to show you around the house?” Harper asked Aaron and James who readily accepted her invitation.
“Who wants to join us?” Harper directed her question at the others.
“I may as well,” Alice said.
“Me too,” Lonnie chimed in.
Mead declined. “Ezra has promised to give me some hints on the autumn care of roses. We’ll be out by the patio.”
“I’ll go with Mead,” Paul offered.
“Then Violet and I will just take care of a bit of last minute maneuvering in the kitchen,” Olivia said, motioning for Violet to follow her out of the room.
Harper led the way upstairs. “I’m so glad everyone could make it today. Violet and Mom knocked themselves out in the kitchen.”
Harper opened the door to one of the guestrooms and everyone trooped across the threshold.
“This is a very nice room,” James said. “If they’re all this pleasant I can understand why you get such high ratings from your guests.”
“The Bittersweet Inn has always gotten good reviews,” Lonnie agreed. “It’s been a labor of love for my mother. And Violet and Ezra, too.”
After a thorough tour of the six guestrooms, with a quick peak at Ezra and Violet’s personal suite of rooms on the top floor, James asked if he could take a quick stroll on the upstairs porch.
“Sure,” Harper replied. “The door is right over there.”
James stood on the upper porch which spanned the width of the house.
“I love this porch,” he crowed. “It’s private up here. The view is great, too. I can see all the way to the timberline along the river.”
Harper agreed. “Lonnie and I spent a lot of time out here when we were kids. It was a great place to hang out.”
“I think it’s a very nice feature of the house,” Alice remarked.
“When this place is yours, you can sit out here and enjoy it whenever you’d like,” Aaron noted encouragingly. Alice didn’t reply.
Violet’s voice boomed at them from the bottom of the stairs.
“The food is ready. Come on down.”
James offered Alice his arm and everyone made their way downstairs and into the dining room.
Not to be outdone by James, Aaron held a chair for Alice to be seated. She flashed him a smile while Mead, Ezra and Paul scurried in and took their places at the table.
“Thank goodness,” Ezra breathed. “I’m about to starve.”
“It smells delicious,” Mead said graciously.
“You won’t forget Violet’s cooking,” Lonnie said. “Or my mother’s either.”
Serving the meal family style, Violet’s rib roast took center stage on the table surrounded by sides of garlic mashed potatoes, butternut squash gratin, roasted carrots with shallots, and steamed green beans topped with almonds. Hot, flaky cloverleaf rolls and sweet cream butter completed the main menu.
During the meal, Aaron and James took great pains to be solicitous toward Alice. Passing the serving dishes around the table, Paul turned the conversation to real estate and business.
“Aaron, I hear there are some new stores opening up in town.”
“That’s right. We’re getting a Pet Palace,” Aaron told him. “You know, pet food, treats, supplies, grooming. That’s going in the old Ben Franklin store which closed a couple of months ago. Yes, a couple of months ago.”
“There’s a new pizza parlor opening after the first of the year,” James added. “It will be located a block off the main drag. I hope they have delivery service.”
“Always good to get new blood in town,” Aaron smiled at Mead. “There are so many wonderful shops up and down Main Street; a person can buy anything they need, anything they need. Of course, if you want to shop in a big town once in awhile, why, St. Stevens is only ten miles to the north and St. Andrews is ten miles to the south. Quick drive either direction. Yes, it’s the best of both worlds right here.”
Mead nodded his head, a determined look on his face. “Alice and I have been anxious to move to Bittersweet Hollow. Isn’t that right, Alice?”
Alice, who had barely touched her food, briefly held her husband’s gaze before contemplating her plate. Her hair curled around her plump, pretty face and Harper thought the young woman seemed sad.
Alice looked across the table, focusing on Olivia. “I fell in love with this wonderful old place the first time I came here with Grace,
” she began. “For a long time Mead and I dreamed of owning a bed and breakfast and we had barely begun our search for the perfect location when we stumbled across a Wilcox and Wilson Realty advertisement.” Alice smiled at James and Aaron. “Your house, Olivia, seemed ideal. The structure was well-maintained and we knew we wouldn’t have to sink a bunch of money into refurbishing it. Mead and I did our research and concluded the Inn has a reputation for being a first-rate BandB. Grace kept singing the praises of Bittersweet Hollow and that’s when we decided to make you an offer.”
Alice paused long enough to drink some water from the cut glass goblet by her plate.
