by J A Whiting
Everyone sat in silence for a few moments.
“Perhaps, John’s dear friend caught on to what John was doing. Maybe John told Marsten what was going on. John might have wanted his friend’s help getting out of the country. It could be that Mr. Marsten refused to assist with the illegal activity … so John killed him to keep him quiet.”
The words made Angie’s stomach clench.
It was a very strong possibility.
But what was the connection between John Smith-Higgins and Leon Drapper? How did Marsten’s body get into Leon’s garage?
21
With her blue apron tied behind her back, Angie stood at the kitchen island mixing ingredients and creaming butter. Mr. Finch sat across from the baker with a cup of tea in his hand listening intently to the young woman’s tale. Ellie was listening too, and every so often, with a grunt of disapproval, she would stop what she was doing to turn and stare at Angie.
“John Smith-Higgins sounds like a monster.” Ellie lifted a pan of butterscotch muffins from the oven and placed them on a cooling rack. “Where do people like this come from?”
Courtney stumbled into the kitchen and sleepily prepared a bowl of cereal with blueberries. Sitting down next to Finch, she watched Angie whisk ingredients in a glass bowl. “What’s cookin’?”
Keeping her eyes on her work, Angie replied, “Chocolate caramel muffins.”
“Yum. Maybe one of these days, I’ll check into the B and B as a guest so you and Ellie will prepare my breakfast in the morning.”
“If you’re a paying guest, then yes, I will prepare your breakfast.” Ellie scrambled eggs in a large frying pan. “But not unless you are a paying guest.”
Courtney winked at Mr. Finch. “Don’t you think Ellie is too focused on money and not concerned enough with the well-being of her youngest sister?”
“You know, Miss Courtney….” Finch buttered his toast. “Your question presents me with two equally undesirable outcomes. If I agree with you, then Miss Ellie will be offended and if I don’t agree with you, then you will be offended. Therefore, I will enjoy my toast and remain silent.”
“That is known as a cop-out, Mr. Finch.” Courtney smiled as she spooned cereal into her mouth. “Here’s another question. Why is Angie in the middle of a cooking frenzy?”
Angie looked up for a second. “What does that mean?”
“Whenever you are stressed or trying to figure something out, you start baking like a maniac. You’re doing it now.”
Finch sipped his tea. “Miss Angie was just telling us about her visit to see Mrs. Julia Smith-Higgins. It is quite interesting.”
“Oh, that’s right. You and Jenna went to the interview yesterday. What happened?”
Angie went through the story one more time and when it was over, she was whisking eggs like she was trying to kill them.
“You better slow down, Sis, or you’re going to injure yourself,” Courtney kidded.
Angie put the whisk down and ran the back of her hand over her forehead.
“So Mr. Smith-Higgins eluded arrest for running some scheme that cheated his clients and made him millions.” Courtney added more cereal and milk to her bowl. “And he used his wife’s company to launder some of the money which could have implicated her in the crime. Smith-Higgins sounds like a real charmer, but….” She poked the air with her spoon. “Julia Smith-Higgins sounds like a hard, vengeful person.”
“I can understand the rage she felt for her husband and what he did to her.” Angie ladled the muffin mixture into tins. “Julia poured her life into her company, but she seems so bitter and vindictive. She made me very uncomfortable. I was glad to get away from her.”
“What do you think the connection could be between Smith-Higgins, Milton Marsten’s death, and Leon?” Courtney’s eyebrows scrunched up thinking over the possibilities.
Angie prepared another muffin tin. “I bet that Smith-Higgins wanted Milton’s help either with the safe movement of money or with getting him out of the country. Milton must have refused and Smith-Higgins killed him. Smith-Higgins must have forced Leon to hide the body. I bet he threatened Leon to keep quiet.”
The cats trilled from the top of the refrigerator.
Ellie piped up. “How did Smith-Higgins know Leon?”
“I don’t know,” Angie said. Something about the case picked at her as if there was an important clue in all that she’d heard, but she couldn’t put her finger on what was bothering her. She forced her mind to focus on something else. “This afternoon I’m going to make four cakes that Tom and Jenna will sample. The one they pick will be the wedding cake flavor. If any of you are around, come and help with the taste test. There will be plenty of cake.”
Courtney groaned. “I would love to give my two cents, but I have to work at the candy store until closing tonight. Save me some cake?”
“Miss Jenna asked if I might be around this evening,” Mr. Finch said. “She wants to talk to me about something. Any idea what she has on her mind?”
“She asked me if I’d be around this evening to chat, too.” Angie shrugged. “I’ve no idea what she wants to talk about. Maybe she wants to coordinate the macarons you’re making to go with the wedding cake for dessert, to be sure the flavors go well together. Or maybe there’s some news about Katrina, her house ghost, and she wants to talk it over with us.”
Finch gave a nod, collected his breakfast dishes, and loaded them into the dishwasher. “I’m off to the candy store. I’ll see you this evening.”
Angie took a look at the clock. “I need to get going. Louisa must be in the bake shop already.”
Ellie told her sister that she’d take the muffins out of the oven when they were ready so that Angie could get to work. Changing her apron to the blue one with Sweet Dreams Bake Shop embroidered at the top edge, Angie tied up her hair, washed her hands, and headed into the bakery-café to start the day.
It was a busy morning in the shop with Louisa and Angie bustling about waiting on customers, chatting with regulars, and refilling the bakery cases. When things finally slowed, Angie sighed. “Whew. The tourist season seems to be starting earlier this year. I think I’d better hire us some help real soon.”
Louisa cleared and wiped down the tables. “It was hard to keep up with things today … people were coming and going like there was a revolving door on the place.” She chuckled. “The time sure flew by. The morning’s over already.”
The door opened and in came Francine, the stained-glass artist who had a shop in the center of Sweet Cove. Francine, her honey blonde hair swinging over her shoulders and her emerald green eyes sparkling, hurried over to Angie and gave her a hug. “I haven’t been in here for ages so I decided to stop by for a coffee and a pastry.” In an unusual twist, Angie and her sisters had learned that Francine’s grandmother had known both their Nana and Katrina Stenmark, Jenna’s ghost.
Louisa went to get Francine’s order while Angie and her friend took seats at the table by the window and chatted about their businesses, the upcoming summer season, and town news.
“Have you heard from Rachel?” Francine asked, picking up her fork and taking a bite of the apple crisp.
“Only some quick emails. Her father has been laid to rest and she told me her heart feels more peaceful now that she was able to bring her dad home. We have a couple of more boxes to fill from the rental house that we’ll ship back to Rachel, then we’ll return the key to the woman who inherited the house.”
“Rachel seemed like a nice girl.” Francine sipped her latte. “I was looking forward to having her help in the glass shop.”
“Have you found someone to replace her?” Angie asked.
“I have.” Francine smiled. “The man will start at the end of the month. He has some experience. I’ll be happy to have him.” With a grin, Francine praised Angie’s apple crisp and then her face took on a serious expression. “Had you ever met Leon Drapper?”
Angie was surprised at the question. “I didn’t. Did you know
him?”
Francine lifted her napkin. “I did. He did some plumbing work for me at my house in Silver Cove. He came into the glass shop quite a lot. He loved stained glass … he bought lamps from me, a chandelier, some suncatchers.” She made eye contact with Angie. “He was a nice man, shy, quiet.”
Angie cocked her head. “You don’t think he killed that man in his garage?”
“I absolutely do not believe that Leon could ever do such a thing.”
Angie rested her chin in her hand. “You’re the second person who’s told me that in a couple of days.”
“Leon was a gentle, even-keeled man. He could seem gruff, but that was just his shyness. I went to the police station and told Chief Martin my thoughts.”
“What did he say?”
“He appreciated that I came to see him. He’d consider what I’d told him as they go forward with the investigation.” Francine dabbed her lips. “I know it’s police-speak, but I had to do it. I feel that strongly. Leon did not kill that man.”
Angie leaned in closer. “If Leon didn’t kill Milton Marsten, how did the body get inside Leon’s garage? Inside his car?”
Francine sighed. “I don’t have an answer for that. Maybe someone was trying to frame him. I just don’t know.” The woman glanced out the window to the Victorian’s green lawn for a few moments, and then turned back. “I was the one who suggested that Rachel get in touch with Leon’s sister to see about renting the ranch house. I knew Leon kept his houses in tip-top shape. Isn’t that odd, though? That I suggested that house? That Rachel found her father at that house? It gives me a chill. Such a strange coincidence, don’t you think?” A shiver ran over Francine’s skin and she shook her shoulders.
“It is strange.” Angie’s head buzzed with the news that Francine had suggested the rental house to Rachel. Was there some outside force at work that caused Francine to recommend that house to Rachel? Angie gave a weak smile. “Maybe it was fate intervening?”
“Fate?” Francine shook her head. “I’m thankful that girl has found her poor father, but who killed him? Is the murderer walking the streets of Sweet Cove? Is the murderer right here among us?”
Angie was afraid of that very thing.
22
With the cats watching from the top of the refrigerator, Angie put four slices of cake on the plates in front of Jenna and Tom. “Okay, try one, take a drink of water, then try another.”
“They all look great.” Tom smiled at Jenna and they each lifted their forks to their mouths. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, Tom moaned, “Heaven.”
“Try not to say anything after you take a bite.” Angie gestured to the small pads of paper next to the plates. “Make some notes. That way you won’t influence each other and we can get some honest comments.”
Jenna giggled. “It has to be done so officially.”
Tom and Jenna spent the next fifteen minutes trying the cake samples and writing down their thoughts.
“No peeking.” Jenna slid her paper away from Tom’s view.
Mr. Finch came into the kitchen from the back door and crossed to the island. “I see the taste-testing is under way.”
“Here are the samples, Mr. Finch.” Angie put a plate in front of the man. “Try them, but don’t tell these two what you think until we get their opinions.”
While Finch tried the cake slices, the soon-to-be-wed couple compared notes and let out laughs when they realized they’d both given five stars to the same cake flavor.
“We have a winner,” Tom announced with fanfare.
Angie beamed. “White cake with raspberry mousse filling and a white chocolate ganache for the frosting.”
“Our compliments to the baker.” Jenna nodded as she and Tom lifted the glasses of water to toast Angie.
“Wonderful choice,” Mr. Finch agreed.
Angie cut four slices of the winning cake and they each enjoyed the delicious flavors with cups of tea.
“What did you want to talk to us about?” Angie asked her twin sister.
Jenna placed her fork on her dessert plate and gave Tom a quick look. She straightened in her seat. “The wedding is coming fast.” Her eyes moved from Angie to Finch. “Everything is just about set except for a few things. I want to ask you both about one of them.” Jenna took in a deep breath. “Angie … Mr. Finch, it would be a great honor if the two of you would walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.”
The two cats trilled from their perch as Angie’s eyes widened and Finch’s mouth opened. In less than a second, Angie had burst into tears and Finch, placing an arm over her shoulders, dabbed at his eyes with his napkin, but missed one glistening tear that traced down his cheek.
Jenna teased, “You can both say no if it’s too upsetting.”
“Yes,” Angie blubbered. “Yes, I’d love to walk you down the aisle.”
Mr. Finch, despite clearing his throat, had to choke out his words. “It would be a great honor, Miss Jenna. My heart is close to bursting.”
Jenna had wrapped them both in a huge hug when Ellie walked in, saw the scene, and stopped in her tracks. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
When she was told what Jenna had asked Angie and Finch, Ellie placed her hand over her heart and sighed. “Thank heavens it’s a good thing that’s making them cry.”
Jenna took Ellie’s hand. “I want to ask you and Courtney something. Courtney is still at work so I’ll start with you. I’d like you and Courtney to be my maids-of-honor.”
Ellie’s bottom lip quivered. “Me? Me and Courtney? Your maids-of-honor?” Her eyes filling with tears, Ellie wrapped her arms around Jenna and let the tears drop onto her shoulder. “Yes, thank you for asking me.”
Tom caught Jenna’s eye and grinned. “Three for three for making them cry. Let’s place bets. Who thinks Courtney will cry when Jenna asks her?”
Ellie took Mr. Finch’s napkin and wiped her cheeks with it. “Courtney isn’t a crier. She’ll whoop instead.”
The group agreed unanimously with Ellie.
After the three composed themselves, Ellie left to meet Jack for dinner and a movie, Tom left to help a friend with a kitchen project, and Mr. Finch went out to the front porch to wait for Betty Hayes to pick him up for dinner at her house. Before heading out to the porch, Finch hugged Jenna again. “Thank you, Miss Jenna. It will be a privilege to be by your side as you walk down the aisle to that fine man.” Finch bowed to the young woman before him, gripped his cane, and left the kitchen smiling from ear to ear.
“It’s just you and me this evening,” Jenna said to Angie and then looked up at the cats. “Oh yes, and two fine felines. How about we all head to the family room with some snacks?”
“I’m in.” Angie rustled in the cabinet for a big bag of chips as the cats zoomed from the kitchen to the cozy den at the back of the house. They put the television on, sat side by side on the sofa, gobbled the chips, and dozed off for an hour.
Angie startled awake from the wailing of a police siren and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized the noise was coming from the television crime show.
“What was that?” Jenna sat up rubbing at her eyes.
“It’s just the TV.” Angie’s heart raced and she got up to pour some water from the pitcher into her glass. She held the cool tumbler against her temple. “I was dreaming about the body in the garage.”
Jenna frowned. “Can’t escape it even when you sleep.”
Angie plopped down on the sofa and scratched Circe’s cheeks. “What are you thinking? You think Smith-Higgins killed Marsten?”
“It seems he could have been the one who did it.” Jenna adjusted the throw pillow behind her back. “It wasn’t Leon who killed Marsten was it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Euclid jumped off the side chair and came over to sit between Angie and Jenna.
“Somebody scared Leon into hiding the body in his garage,” Angie said. “It must have been Smith-Higgins … but how did he know Leon?”
&
nbsp; “We should talk to Leon’s sister, Elise. Ask her if Leon ever mentioned Smith-Higgins. Ask her if she has any idea how those two very different people came into contact with one another.” Jenna stood up to get her laptop. “In fact, let’s do some information gathering.” Returning to the sofa, she tapped at the keyboard. “Let’s start by looking up Smith-Higgins.”
“Here he is.” Jenna tilted the laptop so Angie could see. “Lots of pictures and articles about him. Charity events, posing with politicians, attending business meetings. The usual for someone at the top of a financial institution.” She pointed at the screen. “These articles start reporting on his disappearance and his scheme to defraud his investors. Well, how the mighty have fallen.”
Angie read what Jenna was pointing to. “I guess being a multi-millionaire by legitimate means wasn’t enough.”
“Let’s look up his wife. Julia Belton. Here we go.” Jenna paraphrased the article out loud. “It’s all the things we knew about her. Well-educated, ambitious, hardworking, determined. Founded and still runs Belton Financial Services and Consulting. Never married until she wed Smith-Higgins. No children. She’s generous about giving to charity. Likes to golf. All the stuff you’d associate with a wealthy self-made business person.”
“Look up Leon,” Angie suggested.
Jenna tapped. “Drapper Plumbing and Heating, sold to a Peter Walden, a few years ago. A list of properties he owned. Here’s Leon’s obituary.”
The sisters read the short death notice.
“Not much,” Angie said. “It’s nothing new. No new details about Leon’s life. We’re running into brick walls.”
Euclid hissed causing Jenna and Angie to jump.
“Sheesh, Euclid, what’s the matter?” Jenna eyed the cat.
Angie leaned forward. “Look up Elise. Leon’s sister. Elise Wender. She’s a lawyer. Lives in Boston.”
Jenna entered the name into the search engine and clicked on articles that came up. “Look at this.” Jenna’s voice hitched with excitement. “Elise Wender worked as an attorney at Belton Financial, Julia’s company. They must know each other.”
