Murder, Mayhem and Bliss

by Loulou Harrington

  She tried not to overdo the small groan of pleasure that came after, but it wasn’t easy. A dry brut, chocolates, and a good book, especially surrounded by a riotously blooming garden, were just about her favorite indulgences in the whole world. A soft chuckle interrupted her short reverie and she turned to see Bliss’s smiling eyes looking back at her.

  “At my age, you take your pleasure where you can find it,” Vivian said with a haughty lift of her brow.

  “At any age, you take your pleasure where you can find it, if you’ve got any sense,” Bliss corrected. “You taught me that a long time ago.” She sighed again. “It’s just hard to remember it sometimes.”

  “Growing older helps,” Vivian consoled. “There aren’t so many choices getting in your way.”

  Bliss laughed, and the two shared another round of chocolate washed down by champagne. Then they varied it with some cheese and nuts, and Vivian began to wish it was a weekday so she could send Dottie for another bottle because this one was almost gone.

  But Dottie was no spring chicken, either, so Vivian limited her old friend’s work schedule to half days and no weekends. That gave Vivian the help around the house that she needed and gave Dottie an extra paycheck to stretch her social security. It also gave them both the companionship they would dearly miss if Vivian were to give the job to someone younger. But that didn’t help on a Saturday when she needed someone to run small errands for her.

  Vivian looked behind her and gauged the distance into and through the house to where a second bottle was chilling in the refrigerator. Then she looked at Bliss who had had a glass or two more, plus half of a light tranquilizer. Coffee might be a better choice than more champagne, but someone would still have to get up and go after it.

  Just then a face appeared over the top of the wooden gate several yards behind Bliss’s left shoulder. Vivian blinked in surprise and realized she was staring at the smiling face of Jesselyn Camden, visible only from the chin up. A hand appeared, level with the head, and waved in silent greeting.

  “What are you looking at?” Bliss asked, noticing the shift in her aunt’s attention.

  “Jesselyn,” Vivian answered, perplexed. No one ever just dropped by without calling first or being invited. It just wasn’t done. Now, she’d had two unexpected visitors in one morning, and she could only hope there was no great drama prompting this second visit as well.

  “Jesselyn, dear,” Vivian called. “What a wonderful surprise.” She forced a welcoming cheer at odds with her unease and waved the younger woman inside. Jesse opened the gate and approached quickly. “Bliss, you remember Jesselyn, don’t you? And you’ve met Bliss, haven’t you

  “I certainly have. It’s nice to see you again,” Jesse greeted Bliss as she came to a halt in front of the two slightly glassy-eyed women.

  Her gaze flickered to the nearly empty bottle of champagne on the table, but neither of the two seemed distraught or worried. Possibly the police visit to Bliss’s home was no big deal, or else they neither one knew about it yet.

  “Hi,” Bliss answered brightly. “I haven’t seen you in awhile. It’s so nice of you to drop by.” Her hand drifted over the platter and bottle next to her. “Would you like some champagne, or a snack?”

  “Oh, probably not right now.” Jesse glanced quickly at her watch and confirmed that it was, indeed, ten-fifteen in the morning. “But thank you for asking.”

  Curiosity hammered at her, but she couldn’t just start asking questions, as much as she wanted to. Something about the whole scene was off kilter. For one thing, Vivian did not normally get tipsy before breakfast. And everything Jesse had ever heard about Bliss painted her as straight-laced as they came, which wouldn’t be your first thought on seeing her. With her blond hair and plush figure, Bliss Kerr was a 1950’s bombshell replica in pulsing Technicolor.

  “Jesselyn, dear,” Vivian said, interrupting Jesse’s reverie and jerking her attention several decades forward. “It had occurred to me just before you got here that a pot of coffee would be just the thing about now. But I didn’t really want to leave and go make it. So I was wondering, if it wouldn’t be…”

  Waiting for Vivian to work her way through the request was too much for Jesse’s limited patience. “Would you like me to fix a pot and bring it out?” she asked politely, since they were all apparently on their best manners at the moment.

  “That would be so nice,” Vivian said much too kindly. “Thank you.”

  Jesse walked around behind Bliss’s chair, caught Vivian’s eye, and lifted her shoulders, arms extended, in a blatantly questioning shrug. It was as clear a nonverbal “What the hell is going on?” as she could manage.

  Vivian smiled, ignoring her. “Don’t forget to bring three cups and some cream.”

  Jesse glared at her friend in as clear a nonverbal “I run a coffee house and know how to serve coffee,” as she could manage.

  Vivian continued to smile serenely, and Jesse’s curiosity burned ever hotter as she turned and tried not to stomp all the way into the house and through to the kitchen. Something was up, but it was apparently nothing Vivian intended to broach in Bliss’s presence. Which would indicate that it was something uncomfortable, possibly embarrassing, but that no one was dead. Maybe.

  Her head spinning with possibilities, and almost wishing she hadn’t come all this way just to make sure Vivian was all right, Jesse assembled a tray with the English china coffee service she had given to Vivian for her seventieth birthday. She included the cream pitcher filled with fat free half-and-half and filled the small, open sugar bowl, something neither she nor Vivian would use, just in case Bliss liked her coffee sweet.

  Making her way back across the marble floors of the house’s common areas, lugging a tray loaded with delicately tinkling bone china, Jesse was thankful for the experience she had gained waiting tables at the Gilded Lily. A few years earlier, this was a feat she would never have attempted. She was doubly thankful when she exited the house and pulled to an abrupt, startled halt at the sight of Sheriff Joe Tyler standing at the foot of Bliss Kerr’s chaise lounge.

  “Holy crap.” She started to crouch, then realized she couldn’t while holding the tray. Maybe if she just stood very, very still, he wouldn’t see her and then she could avoid him altogether.

  From the look on his face, she could tell he had already noticed the cheerful inebriation of the two women before him. And from the expressions on their faces, she knew they didn’t have a clue as to why he was there. Oh, well, she was just going to have to suck it up and make the best of it. She had come to make sure Vivian was all right, and that was what she was going to do.

  “Well, hi there, Sheriff,” Jesse called brightly. Hitching the tray higher, she stepped out of the shadows of the house. “You’re just in time for coffee.”

  Chapter Three

  Joe Tyler lifted his gaze and glared at her, clearly not pleased with her arrival.

  “Could you do me a big favor and move that tray from the side table to that coffee table behind you?” Jesse held the heavy tray out in front of her for emphasis. “So I can put this down where that stuff is now?”

  Not hesitating, she headed for the smaller table, hoping to leave him no choice but to move the other things off of it. Reluctantly, he did as she had asked just in time for her to set the new tray down between Bliss and Vivian.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Still smiling, Jesse lifted a delicate china cup balanced in its saucer and extended it to him. In the reaction she expected, he held up a hand and recoiled.

  “No, thank you.” He looked at the effeminate china as if it might be attached to a detonator. Then like the disciplined professional he was, he dismissed her as if she didn’t exist and turned his attention back to Vivian and Bliss. “If you don’t mind, Mrs. Windsor, I would like to speak to Mrs. Kerr in private for a moment.”

  Vivian’s blue eyes narrowed with a pinch of displeasure. “Alone?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I have some questions for Mrs.
Kerr, and then I’d like to speak with you for a moment if I might.”

  Surprise replaced displeasure, and Vivian’s eyes widened again. “Me?”

  While this exchange played out, Jesse poured a cup of coffee and shoved it into Bliss’s hands. Cinnamon brown eyes lifted to hers, and the younger woman smiled as if they shared a secret. Then Bliss took a long, savoring drink. She closed her eyes and exhaled. The unmistakable sound of pleasure drew the attention of the male among them.

  Professional demeanor gone, the sheriff’s expression turned to one of stupefaction. Jesse’s face twitched from the effort required to hide her amusement. Watching the high and mighty Joe Tyler tumble from his self-made pedestal was pure joy. He used his size and his strong, silent act as intimidation tools a little too often for her liking. She would have to thank Bliss later for unwittingly turning him human, even for a moment.

  As quickly as it had slipped, his impassive mask was back in place, and Jesse felt the shiver of caution she always felt around him. It was a lot of why she resented him, and a lot of why he was so effective at his job. Damn him.

  “Mrs. Kerr.” He held out his hand to assist Bliss in rising. “Your great aunt has given us permission to use her library to speak privately.”

  Bliss set down her coffee cup and rose on her own, if somewhat clumsily, from the chaise. She turned and, with great dignity, preceded him into the house. Her gaze met Jesse’s as she passed her. Confusion, and a creeping fear, left Bliss’s huge eyes looking haunted and more than a little lost.

  Jesse turned away before the sheriff reached her, afraid her own expression would give away too much of the doubt she felt. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. And Vivian and her niece appeared to be right in its crosshairs.

  The other two were barely out of sight when Vivian hissed, “Why are you here? And what is going on?”

  “First things first.” Jesse dropped into the seat Bliss had vacated, but remained perched at the edge, leaning toward Vivian. “When did Bliss get here?”

  “Early. Before breakfast.”

  Jesse sat up straighter. “You haven’t had breakfast?” She looked at the dead soldier champagne bottle. “Oh, good grief.” Pouring a cup of coffee and adding cream, she passed it to Vivian. “Here. Drink.”

  “I should resent being ordered around,” Vivian muttered into the coffee cup she dutifully began to drink. “But I think I have a champagne headache coming on.”

  Lifting the platter, Jesse held it out. “Cheese. Get some protein into you. The nuts are good, too.”

  “I was going to call you,” Vivian said. Elegant as always, her wheat blond Grace Kelly upsweep fresh from her weekly salon appointment, she took the small, china platter and set it in her lap. Selecting a square of cheese with one hand, Vivian held out her empty coffee cup to Jesse for a refill. “I’m afraid we have a situation on our hands. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

  “I think I may have some idea,” Jesse answered. “But you tell me about Bliss’s problem first.”

  “She can’t find Harold.”

  Jesse handed back the refilled cup. “When did she see him last?”

  “I never asked her that. But I don’t think that’s the problem. What seems to be bothering her is that he didn’t show up at his dealership this morning.” Vivian waved a chunk of cheese aloft for emphasis, then took a bite. “That appears to be unheard of,” she said around the cheese, which she then washed down with coffee. “Now, why are you here?”

  With a deep breath, Jesse looked skyward for inspiration. Nothing earth-shattering occurred, so she just waded in. “Well, SueAnn was late this morning, after having spent the night with her boyfriend in Culverton.”

  “What has this got to do with anything?” Vivian demanded, not the most patient of people in the best of times.

  “The road she took to get to work went right by Bliss’s house.”

  “What time?”

  Jesse shrugged, not having thought to ask that question. “Nine-ish?”

  “So Bliss was already here,” Vivian said mostly to herself. Then she pinned her fierce gaze on Jesse. “So, why does this matter?”

  “Because there were police cars there,” Jesse said gently.

  Vivian’s hand went to her breast just as Sophia’s had. She closed her eyes, breathed in and out deeply, once. Then she opened her eyes, squared her shoulders and shook off the moment. “Cars?” she demanded. “How many cars?”

  “Enough to get SueAnn’s attention. She said the front yard was filled with them, but that would have been an exaggeration.” Jesse didn’t have to say more. SueAnn Bailey could tell a good story, but everyone who knew her, knew that you also had to edit just a bit.

  Vivian nodded her agreement and sat lost in thought before she finally said, “Well, I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Jesse tried to think of some way to soften the rest of what SueAnn had seen, but she was pretty sure Vivian would want to know the worst of it before the sheriff came back through the sunroom door. Taking another deep, steadying breath, she plowed on. “The medical examiner’s van was there.”

  Vivian gasped, turned pale, and let the coffee cup slip from her suddenly limp fingers. Jesse reacted fast enough to catch the cup before it hit the stone pavers. Then she retrieved the saucer, put the cup in it, and set them both back on the tray. She also slipped the platter of snacks from Vivian’s lap and put it back on the table.

  Vivian sat staring into space, frozen. Jesse, and probably about everyone else in their quiet corner of the world, knew Vivian as a woman who was always in charge, of herself and of any situation she found herself in.

  If any doubt had remained, Jesse knew now that her decision to come here and tell Vivian what little she knew had been the right one. At least the older woman would have a chance to catch her breath and collect her thoughts before having to face whatever it was Joe Tyler wanted to question her about.

  “Oh, my God.” Vivian sprang to her feet with amazing agility for a woman of her age. “He’s questioning Bliss!”

  “There’s nothing we can do about that,” Jesse said gently.

  “We can listen!”

  “Oh!” Jesse liked the idea immediately and was sorry she hadn’t thought of it herself, except… “Where? We can’t be outside the door when they come out.”

  Vivian frowned, deep in contemplation, then pointed to the back side of the house. “Run around to the library and see if there’s a window open. And be quiet. If we can hear them, they can hear us.”

  Jesse stood and gave Vivian a quick peck on the cheek. “You are spooky amazing,” she said, not for the first time.

  Vivian gave her a wink. “That’s what Malcolm always used to say, or words to that effect.”

  Breaking into an easy jog, Jesse slowed at the corner of the house. Listening for voices, she picked her way quietly toward the library on the other side of the sunroom. The foundation of the main house was elevated, and the windows were above her. If she stayed close to the house, she wouldn’t be seen, but if she rustled the shrubbery, she might be heard.

  After a few more steps, the low murmur of conversation reached her, and she looked up to where one window in the middle of a bank of windows was raised no more than five inches. Retreating to the corner of the house, she signaled Vivian, who was already making her way carefully across the open lawn. Jesse pointed toward the library and put her finger to her lips, then gave Vivian a thumbs up and went back to find an optimum listening post.

  “Why are you asking me these questions?” Bliss’s voice came clearly through the partially open window. “Has something happened to Harry?”

  Wherever she was seated, if she stayed there, she should remain reasonably audible. Sheriff Tyler would be another story. Jesse didn’t trust him not to move around, possibly even going to the window to stare out, heaven forbid. She moved closer to the side of the building, stepping inside a young boxwood to stand almost flush with the stone wall.

  Vivian
rounded the corner of the building, and her eyes widened at Jesse’s serious dedication to the task. She covered her mouth with her hand and ducked her head, in what was either a smothered sneeze or a giggle. Jesse’s guess would be a giggle, since she was pretty sure both women were still fairly snookered. Champagne tended to get into the blood and linger awhile, especially when it was what you had for breakfast.

  “If you don’t mind,” Sheriff Tyler said in what sounded like a mild tone, at least for him, “I’d like to hold off on answering any questions until I’ve had a chance to get your and your aunt’s responses to my questions.”

  “Well,” Bliss said with uncertainty in her voice, “I guess that sounds reasonable. It’s just that…” She drew in a deep, hiccupping breath. “I’m so afraid…” Her voice faltered, then grew stronger. “That you’re here about something awful.”

  As Jesse was thinking “shut up, shut up, shut up,” she looked over at Vivian, whose eyes were wide while her head shook “no” back and forth repeatedly.

  “I mean,” Bliss continued in a plaintive warble, “why else would you be here? I mean, it’s not like he would have embezzled from the company. He owns the company. Something awful must have happened, like an accident or something, and you won’t tell me.”

  Vivian’s eyes were closed, her head was thrown back, and as she continued to shake her head, she mouthed the word “no” in a silent mantra.

  Mercifully, Joe Tyler stopped Bliss’s verbal hemorrhaging. “Really, Mrs. Kerr, there’s no need for you to say anything except in response to what I ask.”

  Bliss took a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “That’s good. Now, when did you last see your husband?”