“No. There was also a smell. Or rather, there wasn’t a smell.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Scott wore a distinctive citrus-smelling aftershave. I noticed it when I first met him and several times in the upstairs hall, when I realized later he had been in the house. But I never noticed it the night I was thrown down the back stairs. There was no odour at all that night.”
“And there was one other thing.” I leaned forward and pulled up the left sleeve of his long-sleeved shirt.
A perfect oval, a perfect red impression, decorated his forearm. It could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was—a human bite mark. Thanks to two years of metal braces during my teens, I had a perfect bite.
“The price of my silence is an explanation, Dennis. I want to know why. If I leave here without knowing why, I go straight to the police station. You can come with me if you want and deny it.”
He gave up. If my butt hadn’t still been on fire and every other part of me didn’t ache, I might have felt sorry for him. He looked beaten.
“Okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to believe I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was afraid you’d see me. If you charged me, my career would be over, my family would leave me for good, and I’d have to leave town.”
“None of that has to happen. Although, if you don’t promise to break it off with Jody, your wife will definitely throw you out, and I don’t think you can afford another divorce settlement or all that child support.”
He flinched. “When you wouldn’t give me any money back, I had to come up with a way to raise some cash. Fast. I owe everybody in town, and the house has three mortgages.”
“So you decided to rob me? What made you think you could get away with breaking into Hammersleigh House, filling your pockets, then getting out again without getting caught?”
“I got the idea when I heard about the antiques being taken from your place. There’s a group of teenagers breaking into cottages in the district and I thought they had done it. I figured they wouldn’t go back to the same place again to rob it, but if more stuff went missing, they would still get blamed.”
“So how many times did you break in, and what did you steal?”
“Nothing. I was only in the house twice.”
“Twice? And you didn’t take anything either time?”
“The first time was on the Saturday of the reunion before we, you know, talked in the garden behind the house. I waited until that new girl of yours took the dog outside, and then just walked in the kitchen door. I thought I could grab a few items and hide them upstairs, then come back for them later.”
“It was you on the widow’s walk that afternoon. How did you know your way around Hammersleigh House well enough to find the stairs to the widow’s walk?”
“You forget, Lyris, I’ve been a realtor for a lot of years. A floor plan doesn’t exist that I can’t figure out in minutes. And that includes your precious Hammersleigh House.”
“How resourceful of you. So did you take some things? No, wait, you didn’t have to, did you? While you were in the cupola, you found the box of items Scott had taken, hoping Caroline would be blamed.”
“Right. I didn’t know why they were still there, but I figured it would be safer to come back that night and take them then. And, well, you know what happened next.”
“Humour me.”
Dennis glanced at the closed office door, undoubtedly hoping one of his staff would come in and rescue him, then he sighed. “I just walked in the kitchen door again when everyone was watching the fire. You came in right behind me, so I had to run up that flight of stairs from the kitchen to the third floor. I waited for a while, and just when I thought it was safe to go up to the cupola and get the box, you and those damn animals came at me. If I hadn’t been so startled, I never would have pushed you.”
“Can you ever forgive me? Let me get this straight. You were going to steal some expensive objects from me, sell them to whom, a fence? And get enough money to pay your debts?”
“I know it was a stupid idea. But I didn’t know what else to do. And it’s not like I took anything in the end. I’m sorry I pushed you down the stairs and I’m glad you weren’t hurt too badly. “
“It hurt plenty. But this will remain just between the two of us. I don’t want Mitch knowing his father is a potential thief who assaulted his mother to save his own skin. And you hurt my cat and dog too. That was mean.” Of course, I planned to tell Marc, but I hoped to convince him not to charge Dennis.
Dennis managed to look both contrite and belligerent at the same time. But I didn’t give him a chance to start orating about how greedy I was to take half his money and how I didn’t deserve to inherit such a wonderful house with its valuable contents. Those words had no more power to make me feel guilty.
“Well, I guess that’s it, Dennis. Good luck with your financial problems. I know you aren’t asking me for advice, but here’s some anyway. Let Tracey help you. Tell her the truth and maybe the two of you can work it out. And if you think you can have Jody on the side, forget it. Anyway, she’ll drop you as soon as she hears you’re broke. See you around.”
Follow my heart for career and love, but not for finances. Luke and Florence better be right about that.
CHAPTER 34
Marc and I were married in the shade garden on Saturday of the Labour Day weekend. A wet August gave way to a breathtaking September and our wedding day was sunny and warm.
The maples had not yet changed from green to crimson, and many flowers still bloomed in the gardens. I carried a bouquet of vibrant roses and their scent mingled with those of grass and pine needles. My off-white designer suit, with fitted waist and calf-length skirt, had cost me a moderate fortune in Blackshore’s only bridal shop, but it was worth it. I felt beautiful. I was beautiful, and I have the pictures to prove it.
Marc had fully recovered and was going back to work after our honeymoon. He was even more handsome than usual in his dress uniform, and all that gold braid in the sunlight fairly dazzled the eye. I really was a pushover for a uniform.
Ronnie stood by Marc’s side looking almost as splendid. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Caroline, attractive and confident in a long flowered skirt and matching yellow jacket. I had firm hopes for those two, someday.
Patsy was my attendant, of course. She had insisted on wearing a burnt-orange dress and jacket to celebrate, since it was the end of summer and the beginning of the autumn season. She was a little early for the change of season, but you sure couldn’t lose her in the crowd.
Our convalescent estate was scheduled to open right after Thanksgiving. I wanted to call it The Blackshore Home for the Terminally Spoiled, but Patsy insisted we stick to plain Hammersleigh House. The new bathrooms were installed and the elevator was almost completed. The contractors were putting finishing touches on my personal apartment—make that mine and Marc’s. I was still having a hard time thinking of myself as part of a couple again.
We had quite a crowd that afternoon in the shade garden. Most of Marc’s colleagues were there, including the scary Tammie Wilberts, still casting baleful looks my way from under her frizzy curls. But I noticed she was standing close to another stalwart officer, so close it was hard to tell where one uniform ended and the other began. From the longing looks he was giving her, I was hopeful that Tammie would soon find another target for her affections.
Marc’s parents were in attendance, pleased and amiable. So were the twins, one looking cheerful enough, and the other not quite as much. Although they lived with their mother, the girls had a room in our new quarters, and I was determined to win over the reluctant twin, but that was a battle for another day.
That day was mine and Marc’s. After our ritual toast, I left him talking with Ronnie and Caroline, while I wandered among our guests, champagne glass in hand―for show only. My entire extended family was in a snit since the only relatives I invited to the wedding were Mom and John Brixton, David and Denise, Mitch,
and the inevitable Tiffany. Oh, and Aunt Clem. If I invited anyone else, I would have had to invite all three or four hundred of them.
Peter, dressed in a sky-blue tuxedo with ruffled collar and cuffs, drifted among the guests passing out glasses of the best bubbly the Blackshore Liquor Store had to offer. Conklin, no less resplendent in his striped trousers, black tails, rust-coloured shirt, and bow tie, followed along with trays of canapés. Aunt Clem was by his side, bright red scarves fluttering in the warm breeze and grey sequined evening dress just skimming the tops of her silver sandals. She and Conklin were leaving the next week for a Grecian cruise and would be back for the opening of our new business. I was determined to spend more time with Aunt Clem in the future to learn all she could teach me about our mutual gift. And I was going to find out about Camp X and her wartime adventures before the year was out.
My eyes came to rest on a bent, shrivelled man sitting on a wooden bench under the maples. His grey suit blended seamlessly with the bench, and I blinked twice to clear my eyes.
“Gunner. What are you doing here?” Maybe he was confused and thought he was already checking into Hotel Big Bucks.
“Heard you was getting married to the chief of police. Thought I’d come over and see if my new home was ready.” He added, “And congratulate you, too. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Gunner. The renovations are almost completed. I hear you’ll be our first guest. For four weeks.” I didn’t like his reference to his new home.
“That’s right, Ninny. Hope things will be up to snuff. I’m paying through the nose for this and it better be worth it.”
“I’m sure you’ll find everything more than satisfactory.”
“I need good food, and lots of it. I like to play cards too, so there better be some folks who can play with me. And I need a walk every day. You can come with me, Ninny.”
“Gunner, you can call me Lyris if you’d like.”
“I’ll do that, Missy. Well, I’m off. Remember, my operation is the day after Thanksgiving, and I’ll be here the day after that.”
“Looking forward to it. Gunner, I’m planning to chronicle the personal adventures our family and other Blackshore residents experienced during World War II, and I hope I can count on you to relate your stories so future generations will understand what happened. You may not agree, but I feel it’s important that we don’t forget what happened during those years.”
“I been thinking about that, Missy. You may be right. Maybe it’s time. You’ll have to convince me when I get here.”
He hopped off the bench and vanished into the shrubbery.
Rasputin and Jacqueline strolled by. Jacqueline’s white fur gleamed in the September sunlight and the orange sequined bows at her ears sparkled. She sat down proudly in front of me, and I told her how lovely she looked.
“And Rasputin, you look quite spiffy in your new bronze collar. Would you like an hors d’oeuvre?” The cat managed to sustain his contemptuous expression while wolfing down a cracker laden with salmon, and he even ate the bit of greenery on top. He lumbered away without a backward glance, tail swishing, and after I fed Jacqueline a tiny sandwich filled with cream cheese, she scampered after her surly friend.
“Leave the birds alone,” I called after them.
It had been a long day already, after many busy weeks of preparations. What with the building renovations, plans for the wedding, leaving my job at the Hydro Commission, and hiring staff for the business, I was pooped. Both Sheila Overton and Daphne O’Rourke were joining our team, Sheila as receptionist and Daphne as kitchen help and general aide. I was hoping the leather apparel and numerous body piercings Daphne sported would speed recovery time for our guests, or at least entertain them while they were convalescing. Sheila was good with the public and had agreed to take smoke breaks outside.
We had six nurses lined up to work part-time, and young Dr. Michael promised to provide postsurgical care to our guests as required. I sighed in contentment. For once, the universe seemed to be unfolding according to my wishes.
Miss me, Lyris?
Leander. You’ve been gone for a long time. I hope I didn’t offend you the last time we spoke. I was pretty upset.
That’s okay. I understand. They’ve been keeping me busy here with my studies, but I wanted to wish you well.
Thanks. So, Leander, Marc knows all about you now, and he was quite understanding. I just hope you won’t...won’t...
Visit you at inappropriate times?
Yes. I still haven’t gotten the hang of this spirit guide thing. When you contact me, how I contact you, you know?
You’re doing pretty well, Lyris, for a novice. I think we can take a break from each other for a while.
That sounds good, Leander. I don’t think I need a honeymoon coach unless the Bad Girl/Good Cop routine doesn’t work. Any tips?
You’re the one with the overactive imagination.
Can you at least tell me if my marriage to Marc will be a happy one? Will I make a success of it this time?
I’m your spirit guide, Lyris, not a Gypsy fortune teller.
His comment was followed by a strange sound, like sandpaper being rubbed on skin.
Leander, what was that noise? Are you laughing?
Sorry, it just slipped out.
Well, I’m glad you have a sense of humour. You’re going to need it. And you might want to work on your people skills.
You know, Lyris, I’m proud of you. You seem to be getting the hang of our relationship. Remember, you create your own universe as you go along.
Okay, now I know that’s a Winston Churchill quote. Is he there with you? Are you Winston Churchill?
I can’t tell you stuff like that, Lyris.
Why not? Do you know John Lennon? Or how about Jim Morrison—you know, from The Doors? And Elvis. Have you seen him?
Better buckle up. Our journey is just beginning.
“Lyris.” Marc touched my shoulder. I looked up at him and blinked. He sat down. “You have that look on your face again. Were you talking to Leander?”
“He just dropped in to congratulate us. He’s gone now.”
“For good?” Marc looked so hopeful, I hated to disappoint him.
“No, just for now. Is it time to go yet?”
“Yes, my darling, our single friends are gathering at the gate hoping to catch your bouquet.”
Walking to our getaway car—Marc’s serviceable black Explorer—I smiled to see Tammie at the front of the line. As I closed my eyes and tossed my bouquet over my head, I heard gasps and laughter. When I turned around, Tammie was clutching my roses in her fists and looking pleased. Marc helped me into the passenger’s seat, and we drove through Hammersleigh’s gates while our guests clapped and waved their farewells.
We had reserved a suite at a lodge just outside of Huntsville, a five-hour drive north of Blackshore. The lodge was surrounded on three sides by immense evergreens, while the fourth side faced a sparkling lake. When we stepped out of the Explorer, the sun was just sinking on the horizon, setting the water ablaze with red and gold lights. It was off-season, and we saw no other guests as we checked in and waited for our bags to be brought to our honeymoon suite.
We both collapsed on the bed and looked at each other.
“Are you nervous?” Marc asked, not looking a bit nervous himself.
“No. Although I am a bit tired. Maybe we can postpone the nuptial delights until tomorrow.”
His face fell, but he took it on the chin. “Of course. I know it’s been an exhausting week for you. We can wait until you’re rested.”
“Kidding.” I snickered and slapped him on the thigh. “I just wanted to see what you’d say. I’m ready if you are.”
“You’ll keep me laughing, no doubt about that. Before you have your way with me, I’d better go back to the desk to get another key. I don’t like having just one in case we lock ourselves out. Then I’m all yours.”
As the door closed behind him, I leapt from the bed. I
tore off my clothes, took a quick shower, put on a silky lavender-coloured nightie and managed to brush my teeth and run a brush through my dishevelled hair before Marc returned.
I was out of breath, but looked as seductive as possible, whatever that might be, since I wasn’t any more experienced at seductive than I was at flirtatious. He pulled his gaze from me and looked around in wonder.
“How did you do all this so fast?”
I fluttered my eyelashes. “I wanted to fulfill the promise I made to you a long time ago.”
“You mean, your Bad Girl/Good Cop game?”
I laughed at his eagerness. “You got it, Officer. Now, over here, we have jasmine massage oil warming over a tea light.”
Other candles were placed throughout the room and when I switched off the lamp, they glowed like tiny constellations in the darkened room. I had substituted the candles for the promised twinkle lights, betting that Marc didn’t know what twinkle lights were and after tonight, wouldn’t care.
A peacock feather reposed on the pillow.
“What are you waiting for? Come over here and I’ll show you how to play Bad Girl/Good Cop.”
Sometimes I amaze myself. With six weeks to come up with a few convincing moves, I had set my legendary imagination to the task, and the rules of the game fell effortlessly into place. Our injuries had healed and we were both fit and ready. Now it was time for some human clinical trials.
The scent of exotic oil drifted over the bed and the candlelight turned our skin to amber as I moved closer to my new husband.
I whispered in his ear, “Let the game begin.”
~ * ~
If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a short review and posting it on Amazon, Goodreads and/or Barnes and Noble. Reviews are very helpful to other readers and are greatly appreciated by authors, especially me. When you post a review, drop me an email and let me know and I may feature part of it on my blog/site. Thank you. ~ Gloria
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Cheat the Hangman Page 34
