Phyllis stood next to her. Only one police car remained at the scene, as an officer took down the yellow caution tape. A tow truck had long since taken away the sleek Cadillac. “We saw them put things in a bag. I wonder what they found in her car.”
Brenda shook her head. In a town like Sweetfern Harbor, she knew for certain that if anyone knew anything, it wouldn’t be long before the news was passed along.
As Detective Rivers drove off from Sheffield Bed and Breakfast he thought about all the people who deeply resented Lady Pendleton. If this were a normal case, the first step would be to investigate anyone with a probable cause or a grudge against the deceased. How on earth would he manage a case of this scope? They would have to interview practically the entire town. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Brenda Sheffield might be his ace in the hole.
Back at the station, he passed by the front desk and went to the office he shared with Tim Donnelly, the other detective on the force. Together, they covered the whole county and had never seen a crime of this magnitude.
“I bagged a few loose items from the Cadillac, as you asked,” said Tim, looking up as Mac walked in. “Just some random things. Otherwise, the car was immaculate.”
Tim sat down at his desk and pulled on a pair of gloves. The first item Tim pulled out was a green leather appointment book with gold-edged paper. Leafing through it carefully to the current month, he could see the court date for her lawsuit against Jenny Rivers, and in a Notes column was a brief list of names marked “To Discuss.” Mac grimaced to realize this list looked like she was on a mission to harass everyone in town. He was most uncomfortable to see his daughter’s name scrawled there in Lady Pendleton’s heavy cursive. Next, Tim handed him a small brocade purse that held nothing of real interest, just a driver’s license, checkbook, and credit cards.
“What’s that envelope?”
“That’s the most interesting find of all,” replied Tim with a rueful smile, reaching in carefully to retrieve an envelope that had clearly been opened, its flap ripped jaggedly as if opened in great haste. He passed it to Mac. “It’s addressed to Phyllis Lindsey.” Mac examined the envelope closely, seeing that it was crumpled as if someone had balled it up in anger. “I didn’t take the letter out yet so you get the pleasure, Detective.”
Mac took the letter out and unfolded it. As his eyes scanned the words, his mouth fell open and he had to read the signature twice to make sure he read it correctly. He looked up at Tim in a daze. “The letter isn’t from Lady Pendleton, it’s from her husband William. Apparently, he was in love with Phyllis Lindsey. They had been meeting in secret. Apparently, his wife discovered this letter before it reached its destination.”
The two detectives stared at the letter. Tim laid it down on the desk as if it would explode.
“Well,” said Tim, clearing his throat uncertainly. “This certainly adds a new wrinkle to things.”
“I’ll say. You put together the list of interviewees in order of importance. I have to go pay William Pendleton a visit.” As he headed for the old Pendleton home on the sloping hill that overlooked Sweetfern Harbor, Mac Rivers began to wonder what other secrets might be hiding under the surface of the sleepy village.
An hour later, Mac climbed back into his car and watched the afternoon sun sparkling on the harbor and the ocean beyond. He dialed Tim and placed the call on speakerphone.
“Donnelly, it’s Rivers. William Pendleton is in shock, poor guy, but I don’t think he had anything to do with her death. He was so shaken, I offered to fetch Phyllis in my car to keep him company. I’ve never seen a man fall over himself in embarrassment like that. He couldn’t believe I’d seen the letter.”
“Did he have anything helpful to say?”
“Not really. His gardener vouched for him being home all day.”
“Not really surprising. Poor fella. Rivers, this list of interviewees is getting longer than my arm. It might be faster to get the whole town roster, if you know what I mean. You know how she was with real estate around here.”
“I know,” said Mac, his jaw tightening a little as he thought of his daughter’s name scrawled in that appointment book.
“How are we going to handle this? It’s too much work.”
“Don’t worry, I think I have a plan,” said the detective, and they hung up. As his car swept down the hill toward the station, he thought perhaps he might be back at the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast sooner than he thought.
A few days later, the town newspaper published a story about the death of Priscilla Pendleton. No one had to read the printed word, however copies of the paper were snatched up all over town as souvenirs. Rumors spread like wildfire that Lady Pendleton had been poisoned, but even Pete Graham wasn’t able to pin down whether it was fact or fiction when Brenda pressed him about it.
“Poison does seem like poetic justice,” said Carrie. “Maybe that husband of hers decided he’d finally had enough of her.
“William Pendleton is a sweet-natured man and would never do something like that. Besides, he had put up with her all of these years, why would he decide to poison her now?” Phyllis spoke in a voice filled with agitation.
Brenda recalled the soft curve of her mouth when William’s name was mentioned once before in a casual conversation. She shook her head. Phyllis had been oddly quiet ever since Lady Pendleton’s death.
The three women sipped at their tea, tucked into snug armchairs in the sitting room at the end of a long day. “Maybe you’re right,” said Carrie, chagrined by Phyllis’s response. “Can you believe her name was Priscilla? It’s too perfect,” she giggled, changing the subject.
Something else came to Brenda’s mind suddenly: the day she had run into Pete Graham hand-delivering a letter to Phyllis. Could it have been from William Pendleton? Brenda almost had to laugh at herself for the notion. It all sounded silly and implausible.
But still, someone knew something. Someone in town was keeping a secret. Brenda decided to do what she did best: pay close attention to everyone and see whose secrets might come tumbling out in the wake of the death of the town’s tyrant.
Chapter Four
Puzzle Pieces
It was hard for Brenda to get comfortable in bed that night. She tossed and turned until she finally got up and made a cup of chamomile tea. She sat by the window overlooking the gardens. Moonlight cast a muted haze over dewy grass and flowers. Ordinarily, this dreamy landscape would have caught her interest, but her thoughts flowed to the bizarre events of the last few days.
Just that afternoon, Detective Mac Rivers had called the Sheffield Bed and Breakfast, asking to meet with her again. A little butterfly of nervousness fluttered in her stomach when she thought of seeing him again, but she tried to firmly put that out of her mind. It was far more important to start a little detective work of her own. Brenda grabbed her notebook and a pen.
She put William Pendleton at the top of her list. Next was Jenny Rivers. Jenny was distraught about the impending loss of her business due to the lawsuit Lady Pendleton filed against her. She wrote down Pete Graham, wondering what he knew about that mysterious hand-carried letter. The letter was for Phyllis, did that mean her own housekeeper was also a suspect?
As she continued making her list, she thought back to each and every person in town who had said something had to be done about Lady Pendleton. She put her pen down and leaned back in her chair. Everyone was a suspect.
These thoughts tormented her a little longer until the chamomile tea kicked in, and then she went back to bed. Gazing at the moonbeams as her eyes drooped shut, Brenda sleepily promised herself she would make some headway in this mess during her meeting the next morning with Detective Rivers.
After a light breakfast the next morning, Brenda returned to her apartment to check her makeup. She swept on a little powder with a soft brush and then dabbed some concealer on the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. She inspected her reflection in the mirror and grabbed her notebook.
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As she headed down the stairs, Mac Rivers was just entering the foyer. He looked up to greet her with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle good-naturedly, his blond hair combed back neatly.
“Miss Sheffield,” he said.
“Please, call me Brenda,” she said, nodding professionally. “Do you mind if we go out to the garden to talk? It’s too nice to stay indoors this morning.”
“Not at all, lead the way,” he replied. They walked around the side of the bed and breakfast, following the pathway to the backyard. Brenda sat on the pine bench at the edge of the rose garden and took a deep breath of the sweetly scented air. She hoped his questions for her would go quickly. She had her own observations about the townspeople she wanted to share with him.
“I want you to tell me again exactly what happened once you saw Lady Pendleton’s car careening down the street,” he said, pen and notebook in hand.
Brenda repeated what she remembered and tried to include any helpful details. He appeared satisfied with her answers. She hadn’t changed her story, after all, and was more of a bystander. “I’m sure you’ve guessed at the scope of our investigation by now,” he said. “From what the doc told us…well, we’re going on the assumption it was poison. I wonder if you have any thoughts about who could have killed her?” he asked.
Brenda eagerly opened her notebook and went down the first few names on her list, quickly running through her observations on each person. She skipped over Jenny, but he was savvy and said, “What about my daughter? Isn’t she on your list? Lady Pendleton had filed a lawsuit against Jenny. We should get everything out in the open or we won’t be able to work together very well.”
“I have her on the list,” Brenda admitted, “but knowing her, I don’t believe she had anything to do with it. It’s not as if she serves food or drink at Blossoms. How would she have poisoned her?”
Mac breathed deeply. “I am glad you see it that way. I am sure my daughter had nothing to do with it but I had to get your honest take on her.” They moved on to William Pendleton. “We found a letter written by William to your housekeeper. It was in the car with Lady Pendleton. Did you know they were secretly exchanging letters?”
Brenda was intrigued, and told him about the incident with the letter Pete Graham brought to Phyllis. “He insisted it had to be hand-delivered to her. I didn’t think much of it at the time. It’s the only time I saw Pete with a letter like that. Phyllis hasn’t said anything about secret meetings with Mr. Pendleton, but I’m not sure she would tell me. I don’t pry into the personal lives of my employees. I think Phyllis prefers it that way.”
She thought for a moment back to that heart-racing moment when the Cadillac had been barreling down the street toward the bed and breakfast. “Lady Pendleton must have been rushing here to confront Phyllis,” said Brenda.
“That’s what I’ve concluded, too,” said Mac. “I’ll be honest, Brenda. We have so many interviews to wade through, but what I really need is someone like you—someone who can see people for who they really are. Someone who hasn’t been steeped in town gossip for decades. Someone who makes friends in a way that a detective can’t,” he finished with an apologetic smile.
Brenda nodded eagerly in agreement. “I want to help any way I can. If we concentrate on businesses who served food or drink to Lady Pendleton, we could narrow your interview list a little bit. I can follow up after your official questioning and then we can compare notes afterward.”
Mac readily agreed, and they went through the list of businesses that served food and drink in town. There were no clues yet, and certainly no one in this seaside town who fit the personality of a murderer. But it was somewhere to start.
Mac stood up and thanked Brenda for her help.
“I have to get back to the station. In the meantime, keep your eyes and ears open.”
After she watched him walk down the path and leave the garden, Brenda felt a familiar mix of excitement and nerves tumble through her. She was sure she would have plenty of opportunity to observe reactions since there was only one topic of conversation in town.
She went back inside through the delivery entrance and through the kitchen door saw Phyllis talking softly to the chef. When they turned to see who had entered, Phyllis quickly turned away, but not fast enough that Brenda didn’t note her reddened eyes and tear-streaked face.
A half hour later, she answered a soft knock on her apartment door. It was Phyllis.
“I feel I should explain the breakdown you witnessed downstairs earlier. It’s just that William—Mr. Pendleton has been brought in twice now for questions about Lady Pendleton’s murder.” She sniffled quietly and pulled a tissue from her skirt pocket. “I know he would never hurt anyone. He lived with his wife for years and they had their separate interests and did just fine.”
Brenda waited as Phyllis started to speak and then stopped herself, struggling.
Then, the housekeeper sighed and said, “He just isn’t the kind of person who could have done something like that.”
“How do you know for sure?”
Phyllis sat down across from Brenda and wiped her eyes again. “I will tell you something you may not be aware of. We managed to keep it a secret from everyone. William and I are in love with one another.” When she finished saying this and looked up to meet Brenda’s eyes, she was taken aback to see understanding, not shock, plainly written on her employer’s face. “I suppose since you are a sleuth in your own right that you already knew that. Does everyone know my secret?”
“No, I promise you,” Brenda reassured her. “I wondered ever since I saw Pete insist on personally delivering a letter to you. I didn’t give much thought to it at the time, but was it a letter from William?”
Phyllis nodded her head. Brenda had no intention of telling her of the letter found in the Cadillac. That was something Mac would divulge in good time.
“I’ve been asked to visit the police station, Mac wants to question me. Do you think I should tell him about my relationship with William?”
“I think you should tell him everything that would be helpful to the case,” replied Brenda carefully. “Why take the risk? My old boss used to say that people always reveal more by what they conceal, even if it’s something minor. The sooner you can clear yourself the better.”
“It’s not just our relationship,” said Phyllis, taking a shaky breath. “William told me about something that happened.” Brenda leaned forward, intrigued. “Just a few days ago, his wife found something out. Not everything, but she suspected something was up and confronted William. He tried to tell her she was crazy and to respect his privacy, but she just kept pushing and pushing. He said—he said he flew into a rage. He just couldn’t take it anymore. He lost it.” Phyllis looked up, wiping away her tears again. “He said she was so shocked by it that she finally left him alone. He’d never done that before.”
Brenda contemplated this for a moment. It certainly seemed to be a new side of William, but it was far from a smoking gun. “The truth will set you free, Phyllis. That’s all that matters.”
Phyllis nodded and took a deep breath. “I feel so much better now that I’ve told you, Brenda. I’ll be honest and upfront with the detective.”
After Phyllis left, Brenda reflected on their conversation and became convinced that the housekeeper knew nothing about the murder of Lady Pendleton. She was not concerned for herself, she just wanted to protect William. Whether he was truly innocent, time would tell. As far as what she had promised Detective Rivers, she listened to her gut and knew that Phyllis couldn’t be a suspect. She vowed to get in touch with Mac the next day to tell him about the confrontation between Lady Pendleton and her husband.
The next day proved to be a cloudy one. The sun attempted to break through the clouds, but didn’t manage it. Despite the gloomy morning weather, Brenda asked Phyllis to take a walk with her to Morning Sun Coffee. It would be good to see Molly and she hoped for Phyllis’s sake that some of the gossip about Lady
Pendleton’s death had died down.
Phyllis perked up at her offer and went to grab a lightweight sweater. Brenda did the same. The ocean breeze felt much cooler with no sun.
When they entered the Morning Sun, Logan was behind the counter taking orders. Molly came out from the kitchen and her eyes lit up. She waved to Phyllis and Brenda as they sat down at a window side table. A couple of minutes later she brought them coffees and a plate of miniature cinnamon rolls and sat down to chat with them.
“I hear Jenny is in a lot of trouble,” Molly said.
“I thought all the lawsuits were dropped,” said Phyllis, taking a sip of her steaming hot coffee.
“Lawsuits have been dropped, but word is that Jenny is still at the top of the suspect list.”
Phyllis’s mouth dropped open. She slowly put the small roll back on the plate. Brenda stared at Molly. “Why is she at the top of the list?” She wondered why Mac had not said anything about this to her during their earlier meeting.
“Someone has been hinting around town that she was more than a little angry with Lady Pendleton over the rent raise.”
“But that’s true of everyone in town,” Phyllis pointed out.
“That’s true, but Jenny also had the lawsuit hanging over her head. Jenny complained to everyone and kept saying she was “going to do something” about the woman. Those are her words. I don’t believe Jenny did it at all. She was mad enough, but so were a lot of people around here.”
Just then, Pete Graham came into the shop. He handed Molly her mail and gratefully accepted her offer of a cup of hot coffee. “Jenny Rivers is distraught. She closed Blossoms today and left,” he said. “She isn’t answering her phone. Hope just went to go to Mac’s house to see if she is there. I think she ran away because she is being accused of killing Lady Pendleton.” He waited for a response from the women, but everyone was in shock to hear of such a reaction from someone they thought they knew so well.
Posies and Poison (Sweetfern Harbor Mystery Book 1) Page 4
