Dandelion Dead

by Chrystle Fiedler

  “We hope so,” I said. “We should know more later.”

  “I’m worried about Lily. I mean, I told her last night that we should take a break, but she didn’t take it well, and now this.”

  “Actually,” I said, “there’s more, David, so brace yourself.”

  “What? What happened? Is she okay?”

  “No, she’s not. In fact, Lily was arrested this morning at Nature’s Way for Amy’s murder.”

  “What? No, no way.” David tried to push himself into an upright position.

  “Try to remain calm,” I said. “You’ve been through a lot.” I went over to him and put another pillow behind him to try to prop him up.

  “I know Lily. She wouldn’t hurt Amy, or anyone else. Did you call Simon and that lawyer of hers? We’ve got to get her out on bail. We’ll pay for it.”

  Ivy walked into the room. “Actually, no, David, we won’t.”

  “Stop it, Ivy,” David said, angry. “We have to help her. She didn’t do this.”

  “You don’t know that, David,” Ivy snapped. “Amy might be alive if you hadn’t become involved with her.”

  “I know people,” David said. “Lily did not try to kill me and by mistake killed your sister instead.”

  “You’re not exactly objective, David, and we’re not helping her. End of story.” Ivy turned and left the room.

  “She can be such a bitch, and she really stresses me out. I wish I could smoke.”

  “Smoking is never a good idea, especially if you’re wearing a cast. You could get a blood clot.” I pulled a bottle of Dr. Bach’s Rescue Remedy out of my purse and handed it to David. I always carried a spare, just in case. “Try this instead. It’s a combination of five flower essences—cherry plum, clematis, impatiens, rock rose, and star-of-Bethlehem—and it’s good for stressful and traumatic circumstances. Just put four drops in a glass of water or in your mouth. Repeat as needed.”

  He opened the bottle and put the drops in his water glass and sipped it. “Thanks, doc, but I may need a divorce to really solve my problem.” He took another sip of the water. “Forget me. What about Lily? How are we going to get her out?”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “Simon has already said that he’ll pay for her bail, and all her legal fees.”

  “I just don’t understand why Ivy is acting this way. I mean, you can tell by looking at Lily that she’s innocent. She’s not thinking straight.”

  “They were twins,” I said. “It makes sense that she’s upset.”

  “Of course, but to be honest, she and I haven’t been getting along for a while now. We’re just not connecting on any level, if you know what I mean.”

  “We get it, David,” Jackson said. “I know it’s been tough.”

  “It’s the money.” David reached for the glass again. “If I’d been able to invest in Pure on my own, this wouldn’t be happening. It’s like she holds it over my head.” He blew out a breath. “Sorry, I guess I needed to get it out.”

  “That’s okay, David,” I said. “We understand.”

  “So what do we do to help Lily?”

  Jackson got up and went over to the living-room door and looked out. “If you really want to clear her of these charges, we need some answers. Truth time, David.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve told you the truth.”

  “Really?” I said. “Like when you said that you weren’t having an affair? And we find out that you’re involved with Lily and Carla?”

  “You also didn’t tell us about your previous relationship with Amy, or that the Crockers tried to hire you away,” Jackson said. “If we’re going to stop the attempts on your life and help Lily, you need to be straight with us from now on.”

  “Okay, okay. So what is it that you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with your relationship with Amy Lord,” I said. “You two were engaged at one point?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” I said. “But is it true?”

  “Yes, it’s true. I met Amy and Ivy out here and, later, we all ended up going to Boston University. The Lord family lived in the city, but this was their summer home when the girls were growing up, after their parents died.”

  “Keep going,” Jackson said, keeping watch at the door for Ivy.

  “Ivy and I were both in the School of Management, and Amy studied painting at the School of Visual Arts there—she was really good. That’s one of hers there.” David pointed to a portrait above the fireplace of Ivy and Amy as young girls standing in front of cheery sunflowers in the garden, painted in the Impressionist style. Both girls had grins on their faces. “Amy and I were both really into tennis at that time. I was on the men’s team and she was on the women’s, and we practiced together a lot. That one-on-one time led to us becoming involved and eventually engaged. We set the date for a June wedding, but then . . . things changed.”

  “What happened?” Jackson said.

  “Ivy told me that Amy was pregnant and had decided to get an abortion without telling me. Ivy had proof from the clinic. I broke up with Amy after that.”

  “And how did you and Ivy get involved?” I said.

  “We kept in touch after my breakup with Amy, and I saw her in Boston and out here in the summer. We got together one night at a bar in town, and that was it. We were engaged the following Christmas and married after graduation.”

  “How did Amy react?”

  “She wasn’t very happy, but eventually we all got used to it.”

  “And then she got involved with Ramsey Black,” Jackson said.

  David nodded. “That’s common knowledge, but, yes, they got pretty serious. We all thought that he was going to propose, but then she broke it off.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No, I don’t. I’d moved on with Ivy, and my focus was Pure and creating the next big thing in wine.”

  “If they had become engaged and married, would that have bothered you?” Jackson said. “Him having your girl and all that?”

  David shook his head. “I told you, I’d moved on.”

  “Would it surprise you to know that we think that Amy broke up with Ramsey because she became involved with Gerald, your winemaker?” I said.

  “No. Ivy had her suspicions and tried to stop it. She thought that Gerald was just after our money. But lately, she’s been trying to be more friendly to him. I think she feels bad now that Amy’s dead.”

  “Speaking of Ivy,” Jackson said, “I know that this is a tough one, but do you think it’s possible that Ivy might have tried to kill you over your affair with Lily and other women, like Carla?”

  “I doubt it. She’s screwing around, too. Our marriage hasn’t exactly been the greatest lately. When Simon took over, I poured—no pun intended—myself into my work at Pure. Simon and I were determined to create the next big thing. Ivy spent a lot of time alone and started to look elsewhere.”

  “Where? Do you know?” Jackson said.

  “She’s pretty close to Ramsey Black,” David said. “They spend a lot of time together.”

  “Do you think that he could have tried to kill you so he could have her for himself?” I said.

  David shrugged. “I don’t know. You’d have to talk to him.”

  “We’re planning to, this evening,” I said. “Along with vineyard owners who might be carrying a grudge, like the Crockers.”

  “Oh, them. They tried to hire me away when Simon bought Pure with Ivy, but he topped their offer, by a mile.”

  “Maybe Camille and Carter might be the ones behind the attempts on your life, and the texts as well,” Jackson said. “According to the information we have, they are a close second to Pure for the Wine Lovers competition win.”

  “So? Getting me out of the way won’t change that. Falling Leaves will still be the top contender for the win.”

  “Maybe, but things can change,” Jackson said. “You know how these things go. If you were dead, the jud
ges could change their minds and give it to the Crockers for the wine they’ve entered and the possibility of what they’ll produce in the future.”

  “Perhaps with Gerald Parker’s help,” I said. “We’ve heard that they’re trying to lure him away from Pure.”

  “Bottom line—Gerald is good, but he’s not gifted. I don’t want to sound immodest, but without me he just won’t be able to create a winning wine, either for competition or for the public. He just doesn’t have it.”

  • • •

  With David’s permission I went out to Amy’s guesthouse at the back of the property to look around, while Jackson went through the main house checking doors and windows, making sure it was secure.

  The guesthouse certainly wasn’t as grand as the main house, but it was also in the Queen Anne style with the same pink and green gingerbread trim and scalloped shingles, stained-glass windows, and a modest wraparound porch. As I put the key in the lock, I wondered how it had felt for her to live here while Ivy lived in the main house with her ex-boyfriend and former fiancé.

  I stepped inside to find a large open room with a modern kitchen on one end and a living room at the other with windows on three sides, a large L-shaped rose sofa, a wicker coffee table, a colorful throw rug, a TV, bookshelves, and two large plants. Rather than a view of the water, Amy would only have seen the back of her sister’s house from the side window, the neighbor’s property through the window on the end, and trees through the back window.

  I did a quick search around the first floor, starting with the desk near the entrance, but it was empty except for pads of paper, pens, a lip balm, a compact, and various takeout menus from restaurants in town. The laptop or computer that had been here was gone, and just the electrical cord remained plugged into the wall. After that, I checked the cushions of the couch, the kitchen cabinets, and the closet next to the stairs to the second floor, but came up empty. The second floor of the house featured two bedrooms and a large bathroom with a claw-foot tub.

  First, I stepped into the room on the right, which had probably been the guest room, since it was much smaller. The bed had been stripped and the closet was empty. I checked the bathroom, then moved on to Amy’s bedroom, which featured a queen-size bed with a pink comforter, a sitting area with pink overstuffed chairs, pink area rugs, and a fireplace—and Gerald Parker.

  chapter nineteen

  “Gerald? What are you doing here?”

  “Me? What are you doing here?”

  “David told me it was okay to come in here and look around. He didn’t tell me you would be here, however.”

  “He doesn’t know. I came here through the back, from Skippers Lane.”

  “Why?”

  “I miss Amy.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I just wanted to be near her.”

  “It’s a little creepy, Gerald. You shouldn’t be here, not without permission.”

  “Why did David let you come in here then?”

  “Jackson, Simon, and I have been looking into the attempt on David’s life and Amy’s murder. We’ve done this before.”

  “Oh, yeah, I heard something about that.”

  “So you two were involved. It wasn’t something casual?”

  He shook his head. “It was serious. We loved each other. We were planning on getting married.”

  “And everything was good between you two?”

  “Except for having to sneak around, most of the time. But toward the end she was upset for me, about not getting credit for Falling Leaves. I did create it, you know, and David stole that formula.”

  “Are you sure?” From what Carla Olsen and David had said, Gerald just wasn’t that talented. It was also why the Crockers had tried to nab David, and not Gerald.

  “What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m sure. It was my formulation.”

  “Let’s go back to Amy. Did she end her relationship with Ramsey Black because of you?”

  Gerald nodded. “We’d been seeing each other for about two months when she told him it was over. We’d only been going out a little while, but we knew what we had was real.”

  “Were they serious? Had he asked her to move in, or maybe even proposed?”

  Gerald nodded again. “Yes, they’d been seeing each other for over a year.”

  “I heard a rumor that Ramsey had a special name for her.”

  “Probably from Carla Olsen, the biggest gossip on the East End?”

  I shrugged, but didn’t respond.

  “He liked to call her My Princess. He even had it engraved on the engagement ring. After he proposed and Amy turned him down, she told me all about it.”

  “But why didn’t anyone know about you two even after she ended it with Ramsey? I mean, Harrison Jones, the winemaker, did, but he was friends with Amy.”

  “I don’t know, we tried to keep it secret at first, because of Ivy. We both knew that she would try to talk Amy out of it because I don’t come from money. But I’m no gold digger. It wasn’t about that. Not at all.”

  “But Ivy found out?”

  “Yes, David told her. He caught us in my office. Maybe he was jealous because he used to be involved with Amy. I don’t know.”

  “You must have had hard feelings toward David, and not just about that. You were also demoted when Simon and Ivy bought Pure.”

  “Wait a minute.” Gerald got up and came over to me. “If you think that I tried to kill David, you’re wrong.”

  “If you had, and killed Amy instead, it would be a tough thing to live with.”

  He pointed his index finger at me. “If I’d done it, and I’m telling you, I did not.”

  “Okay, you didn’t do it. But you are planning on leaving Pure.”

  “You can’t keep anything secret in this community.” He clenched his fists. “Now that Amy is gone, yes, I’m exploring my options. Not that it’s anyone’s business.”

  “I think you should go, Gerald. You’re getting upset.”

  “Because of you and your stupid questions.” He took a step toward me.

  I pulled out my phone. “I think I’d better call Jackson. He’s just in the main house.”

  “Your big, bad boyfriend? I’m not scared of him.”

  “Yes, you are.” My finger hovered above the phone. “Now leave.”

  “Fine.” He stomped down the stairs.

  Once I heard the front door open and shut, I got busy. He’d kind of freaked me out with his weird behavior over Amy, so I wanted to leave as quickly as possible. First, I went over to the dresser and opened the drawers one by one, but it was just clothes, in her funky bohemian-chic style.

  Next, I moved on to the large walk-in closet, but there were only clothes on hangers, and nothing in boxes. I checked the pockets of the jackets and pants, but except for a receipt from the local drugstore for a $40 tube of Bodacious Ruby Red Lip Love, I came up empty again.

  Finally, I checked the seat cushions on the chairs, and underneath the bed, but only found several dust bunnies on the hardwood floor. However, I also noticed that the floor sloped from right to left and also seemed uneven in places. Could Amy have hidden something under the floorboards?

  To be sure, I walked the floor in a grid pattern. When I got to the bedside rug, I picked it up and examined the floor underneath, but the floorboards were undisturbed. After I’d examined the floor in the rest of the room, I went over to inspect the floor under the rug in front of the fireplace, but again found nothing.

  But as I stepped back, for the first time I noticed that the painting above the fireplace was similar in style to the one over the fireplace in the main house. This time, Amy had painted her and Ivy making sand castles on the beach as young girls, also in the Impressionist style. Amy had a red shovel while Ivy held a blue one.

  I walked over to the painting and examined the edges and slowly pulled the right side toward me. The painting popped off the wall, and I moved it to the left. Behind it was a wall safe. Knowing that I probably wouldn’t have much luck cracking the
code on my own, I called Jackson.

  “Hi, hon, what did you find?”

  “A wall safe over the fireplace, but I need help from David to open it.”

  “Okay, I’ll put you on speaker. Go ahead, Willow.”

  “David, I found a wall safe behind the portrait above the fireplace in Amy’s cottage. Do you have any idea what the code might be—or be based on? Maybe the twins’ birthday or maybe when you guys graduated from BU?”

  “Wall safe? I didn’t know that she had one. The cops searched the whole cottage and didn’t mention it.”

  “I don’t know, but it’s here now. Any idea what the combination is?”

  “You can try the twins’ birthday, but it’s probably too obvious—November fifteenth, 1986. So maybe eleven, fifteen, eighty-six? Or eleven, 1986—just the month and year?”

  “I’ll try them both.” I put the phone on the mantel. Neither combination worked. “Try again.”

  “Maybe when we graduated in 2008? Amy always said that was a very important day in all our lives. I guess it was. Amy and I were supposed to get married and Ivy planned to make her mark in her grandfather’s company in New York. We didn’t, she did. Then Ivy and I got married and eventually moved back out here full-time when we invested in Pure.”

  “I think we need two more numbers, though.”

  “Try adding the day or the month, Willow,” Jackson said. “What would that be, David?”

  “I believe it was May twenty-second. Five for the month of May won’t work so add the twenty-two—maybe twenty-two, 2008?”

  “Trying it.” When I got to eight, I heard a click. “I think it worked, hold on.” Slowly, I pulled the safe’s door open. “It looks like a bunch of papers. Let me take a look. Hold on.”

  As I reached inside the safe, I could hear David wondering aloud what was in it. “What would she put in a safe? . . . Ivy always handled all her finances. . . .”

  “Just give me a minute, David.” I pulled the contents out. “I’ll be right with you.”

  I pulled out a stack of photographs, $10,000 in $100 bills, a current passport, an old invitation to her wedding to David, and an official-looking document. I put the rest of the stuff in neat piles on top of the fireplace and opened the document first. It was a will—Amy’s will—and she’d left her assets, primarily her stake in Pure, to Gerald. Ivy was in second position. This was going to cause a super-big stink. So big that I’d wait until I got back inside to tell David. “You guys, I’ll be right in, okay?”