by J A Whiting
“That figures. The man is a mystery.” Angie turned to Courtney. “Let’s go see the Walsh sisters tomorrow.”
“If nothing else,” Courtney said, “we’ll get all the town gossip. The Walsh’s know everything that’s going on in Sweet Cove.”
Angie’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. “It’s from Josh.” She read the message. “Josh says that Andrew Flynn requested the evening off the night that Finch was killed.”
“Well, well,” Ellie said. Her eyes narrowed.
Courtney picked up the pen and placed a star next to Andrew Flynn’s name on her list of suspects. “Someone just went to the top of the list.”
Chapter 16
When Angie and Courtney knocked on the Walsh sisters’ door, no one answered. As they turned away and started down the walkway, they heard yelling in the backyard of the house. They hurried to see if someone needed help. When they reached the rear of the home, Mildred Walsh stood beside a covered back porch swatting at hornets buzzing about her. Her sister Agnes had a broom in her hands and looked to have just knocked a hornet’s nest from the roof of the porch. Angie and Courtney rushed to Mildred’s aid, but by then the aggressive insects had fled.
“Did they bite you?’ Courtney asked.
“A few bites, but I’m not allergic. Awful little creatures.” Mildred’s voice was hoarse and raspy from years of smoking. She rubbed at the red welts rising on the skin of her arm. She glanced at her sister who was hurrying over to her. “Next time, I’ll use the broom on them. Little devils.”
Agnes’s worried expression changed to one of relief. “Goodness. I guess that wasn’t the best way to get rid of hornets.” Agnes was dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. From behind, she could pass for a teenager. She blinked at Angie and Courtney. “What brings you girls to the rescue?”
“We knocked at the front door and heard yelling back here,” Courtney said.
Angie asked, “We wanted to chat with you both. Do you want to go inside, Mildred, and put something on those bites?”
“Bah. No need. The welts will go down eventually. Come sit on the porch.” She led the way to the wicker seats and table on the covered back porch. They sat down.
“Can we get you something to drink?” Agnes asked the girls.
“Nothing, thanks.” Angie shook her head. “We don’t want to take too much of your time.”
“What’s on your minds?” Mildred rubbed at her arm.
“We’ve been talking about Mr. Finch’s murder,” Courtney told them. “We’ve been thinking about who might have killed him. We wondered if either of you had seen something suspicious or heard an argument or anything like that.”
“Finch.” Mildred practically spit the word out of her mouth. “That nasty old goat. Got what was coming to him, I say.”
“Mildred.” Agnes chastised her sister. “That isn’t charitable.”
“Did Finch deserve better then he got?” Mildred asked.
Agnes didn’t answer.
Courtney asked, “How did Finch treat you?”
“Like we were old hags who could barely do anything right.” Mildred scowled.
“Why did you keep working there?” Angie asked.
Agnes said, “We like to keep active, get out and meet people. We could work together at the candy store, not many places allow that. Together we felt like we could deal with Mr. Finch. Neither of us would put up with him if we were working there alone.”
Mildred added, “Finch basically left us alone after we were trained. He’d hide in the back room making the products. We liked interacting with the customers.”
“Finch thought we were stupid old ladies,” Agnes confided. “We played the part. We let him think that’s what we were.” She chuckled.
“You talk to a lot of people in town,” Angie said. “Is there any gossip about who might have killed Finch?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Agnes fiddled with the ring on her finger. “People talk, sure, but no one knows anything.”
“Oh, just tell them, Agnes,” Mildred said. “They’re nice girls.”
Angie and Courtney exchanged a quick glance. Neither said anything waiting to see if Agnes would speak.
“Well.” Agnes lowered her voice. “Our friend works at the dry cleaner up the road.”
“Yes?” Angie wished she would just say what she knew.
“He said someone dropped off a suit to be cleaned.” Agnes paused.
Mildred spoke up, “Oh for heaven’s sake, Agnes, just tell them.” She looked across the table at the girls. “There was blood on the suit.”
Agnes leaned forward. “A lot of blood.”
“Really?’ Courtney wanted more information. “Did the man say how the blood got on the suit?
“He said that there was an accident.” Agnes clucked her tongue to the roof of her mouth.
Angie and Courtney weren’t sure what that meant. “What?”
Mildred narrowed her eyes. “Our friend didn’t believe the man’s explanation. Our friend said that a man like that, who dressed like that, would never get close to any blood.”
“When did this happen?” Courtney asked.
“Right after Finch got killed.” Mildred looked smug.
Angie asked, “Did your friend tell the police?”
“Nah,” Mildred waved her hand dismissively. “Cleaners see all kinds of weird stuff. Can’t run to the police over every little thing.”
“Did your friend know the man who came in with the suit?” Courtney questioned.
“He’d never seen him before,” Agnes said.
“What about his name? Did he have to leave his name?”
“No. People just give their phone number when they drop things off.” Mildred checked the welts on her arm. “Look, the bumps are going down already.”
“Would your friend still have the man’s number? Would he tell us what it is?” Angie asked.
Agnes and Mildred exchanged looks.
“We could ask him,” Agnes offered.
“Would you mind?” Angie asked. “It could prove very helpful.”
“We’ll let you know. Leave us your number and we’ll call you if we find out.” Mildred went inside the house and returned with a piece of paper and a pen.
Angie wrote her name and number on the paper and handed it back. “Thanks so much.”
***
Angie and Courtney hurried up the sidewalk.
“Wow, this could be a break in the case.” Courtney rubbed her hands together. “Should we tell Chief Martin?”
Angie said, “Maybe we should wait and see if the dry cleaner can report the man’s number. It’s probably true that cleaners see strange things. I guess they can’t jump to conclusions and report everything. We can always tell the chief later.”
“What should we do next?” Courtney asked. “We’ve talked to all the candy shop employees.”
“I guess now we wait to see if the cleaner gives the Walsh sisters the phone number of the guy with the bloody suit. Why don’t we head home and see if Ellie needs any help with the B and B tasks.” An idea flickered in Angie’s mind. “Then what about a trip to the town hall or library to start looking for information about Professor Linden’s father?”
“Sounds good to me, but what do you want to know about him?”
“I wonder what Professor Linden asked Attorney Ford about her father. Why would she ask Ford? What could Ford possibly know about her father? What was she looking for?” Angie’s forehead was creased as she pondered the questions. “And why would Attorney Ford tell me to look up Professor Linden’s father?”
“Another mystery.” Courtney shook her head. “Do you ever wonder why Professor Linden left you the Victorian?”
“Every single day,” Angie replied. “I think about it all the time.”
Courtney said, “I know you were nice to the Professor, but is that enough reason for her to leave you the house and the money? There seems like there should be more to it.”
Angie looked at her sister. “Exactly.”
“Do you think Professor Linden’s father might hold a clue to it?”
Angie sighed. “We won’t know until we look.”
Courtney’s eyes widened. “Do you think Attorney Ford knows the reason why Professor Linden left you her property?”
“That thought has occurred to me.” A breeze blew a strand of Angie’s hair into her eyes and she pushed it back behind her ear. “But I don’t think there’s any chance that Ford is going to give me that information.”
“We’ll just have to discover the answer on our own.” Courtney put her hand on her sister’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
Angie’s phone buzzed and when she answered the call she was surprised to hear Mildred Walsh’s voice. She listened for several seconds then asked Courtney for a pen and a piece of paper. Courtney rummaged through her small handbag and pulled out a pencil and an old receipt. Angie wrote something down, thanked Mildred and ended the call.
She smiled at Courtney. “This is the phone number from the dry cleaners. He said it’s the number the man with the bloody suit gave him.”
“Those Walsh sisters don’t waste any time.” Courtney read the numbers on the back of the receipt. “Now we just need to find out who it belongs to.”
The girls turned onto the walkway leading to the Victorian’s front porch.
“Wait until Jenna and Ellie hear this,” Courtney said.
The girls bounded up the steps and went inside the house.
Chapter 17
The sisters gathered in Jenna’s jewelry room and while Angie told Ellie and Jenna what they’d learned from the Walsh sisters, Courtney used her phone to access the internet and look up the number the dry cleaner had produced.
“How are you finding who the number belongs to?” Ellie asked.
“I’m using a reverse phone number site.” Courtney stared at the screen on her phone and tapped at it. “Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.”
Angie paced around the room. “Are you finding anything?”
“Nothing on that last site.” She continued tapping. “Wait. Here it is.” Her voice quivered with excitement. She raised her eyes to her three sisters.
“What?” Jenna asked. “What did you find?”
“It belongs to Andrew Flynn.”
“The resort manager?” Ellie asked.
“No way.” Angie rushed across the room to see the information on Courtney’s phone.
“That’s an interesting development.” Jenna stood up and joined the circle of sisters passing the phone back and forth. Once she saw Flynn’s name and number on the small screen, she went back to her desk and opened her laptop. “Let’s look him up. See what’s out there on him.” Her sisters crowded around her laptop.
“Wow,” Ellie said. “He’s worked all over the world.”
“It looks like he has a strong reputation.” Jenna scrolled through the information. “There are lots of admiring comments about his service.”
Angie said, “Josh told me that Flynn comes with strong recommendations. Josh thought they hit the jackpot when he accepted their offer to work at the resort.”
“Why would he choose to work in a little town like Sweet Cove?” Courtney asked. “After living in London, Paris, Geneva, why would he be drawn to the resort? It seems like a step down from what he’s done. It seems like quite a few steps down.”
Ellie offered, “Maybe he’s tired of a high-powered environment?”
“It seems like professional suicide.” Jenna said, “Flynn is only in middle-age. I could see making a change to something simpler later in life, but now? I don’t buy it.”
“Should we talk to Chief Martin?” Courtney asked.
“Maybe we’d better.” Angie frowned at the thought that Flynn moved to Sweet Cove with malicious intent. “I think I’ll talk it over with Josh. We’re going on a bike ride in a couple of days.”
“Oh, really?” Jenna prepared to go into full teasing mode, but Mr. Finch’s voice called from the hallway.
Ellie started out of the room to go and see what Finch wanted. Angie was right on her heels in order to escape from Jenna.
Jenna said, “You can stay here, Angie. Ellie can take care of Mr. Finch.”
Angie pretended she didn’t hear Jenna’s comment and hurried down the hallway to the foyer.
Mr. Finch, dressed in his usual suit jacket and tie, stood next to Betty Hayes, the town Realtor. “Hello.” He beamed a smile at Angie and Ellie.
Betty greeted the sisters. Her voice had a girlish tone and she seemed to be batting her eyes at Mr. Finch. Angie knew that Betty would do just about anything to get a listing, but she almost seemed to be flirting with Mr. Finch. For a few seconds, Angie worried that Betty had eaten something she’d baked recently and somehow it had put a love spell on her.
“You know the lovely, Ms. Hayes?” Finch asked the girls as he smiled at Betty.
Ellie and Angie exchanged surprised glances. They both nodded.
“I didn’t realize you knew each other.” Angie blinked.
“I’ve only recently had the good fortune to make Ms. Hayes’ acquaintance.”
“Victor … um … Mr. Finch contacted me to talk about real estate for sale in the area.” She gave him a coy smile. “We met for lunch and discovered that we share many of the same interests.” A pink color flushed Betty’s cheeks.
Angie and Ellie couldn’t believe what they were witnessing.
“Are you planning to stay in Sweet Cove, Mr. Finch?” Ellie asked.
“I would love to. I wondered if you had any availability here at the B and B for the next several weeks. I’m planning to house-hunt and move into my own place as soon as I can.”
“It will be very nice to have you as part of the Sweet Cove community,” Angie told him.
“What about your brother’s house? You aren’t interested in moving in there?” Ellie asked.
Finch’s face lost its joy. “Never. I would never live in Thaddeus’ house. Call it superstitious, but I don’t want to make my home in a place with such bad karma.”
“Mr. Finch wants to make a home in a house of his choosing. And, rightly so.” Betty beamed at him.
Angie hoped that Betty’s feelings were genuine and that she wasn’t manipulating Mr. Finch.
“We can certainly accommodate you here at the B and B. In fact, I’ll juggle some reservations so that you can stay in your room for as long as you need to. We’re happy to have you here. I’ll go see to those changes right away.” Ellie went to her office to make the reservation adjustments.
Angie gestured to the dining room. “Ellie has the afternoon refreshments out. Help yourself.”
Mr. Finch placed his hand on Betty’s elbow and gently directed her to the buffet table. Angie was struck by how happy they seemed together. She couldn’t believe her eyes. What next?
***
While watching Betty and Finch, Angie’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Josh asking if she was free and would she like to go for a bike ride. Angie’s heart beat speeded up. Her fingers flew over the letters on the phone replying in the affirmative.
Angie met Josh in the driveway of the Victorian. When he pulled up, he stopped, straddled his bike and took his helmet off. His sandy blonde hair was covered with a light sheen of sweat. Angie melted from his smile.
“I’m so glad you could bike today. Davis is commanding my attendance at some meetings in New Hampshire, so I’m going to be gone for a week.” Josh’s brother Davis was trying to close several business development deals while Josh was dealing with the management issues at the Sweet Cove resort.
“How are the manager problems?” Angie attached her water bottle to her bike and slipped her cell phone into the small saddlebag.
“It’s ongoing, I’m afraid.” Josh scowled. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do. That’s something Davis and I will talk about once I get to New Hampshire.”
“I want to talk to you about your m
anager, but let’s head off. What I want to talk to you about can wait.” Angie hopped onto her bicycle. Josh put his helmet on, and the two pedaled away up Beach Street heading to the main street that would take them out of town and northward up the coast.
The afternoon sun was strong, but the speed of the bikes provided a cool breeze that kept Angie and Josh’s body temperatures comfortable. The movement and rhythm warmed Angie’s muscles and the exercise cleared her head and refreshed her. After eight miles, they followed a country road heading inland. They past green, rolling hills and sections of wooded areas where the trees made a canopy over the road. The temperature dropped noticeably in the shade.
Josh suggested they take a break up ahead and he and Angie pulled off the road into a park which was part of the Yorktown Hospital. They pedaled the bikes to a bench placed under a tree on a grassy area next to the hospital parking lot.
“It feels great to be out and moving.” Angie took a swallow from her water container. She pulled a couple of granola bars from her saddlebag and handed one to Josh.
“Homemade?” Josh removed the bar from its wrapping.
Angie nodded.
Josh took a bite. “It’s delicious.” He smiled at her as he chewed. “Like all the things you make.”
Angie felt her cheeks warm. Sitting close to Josh on the bench, she smelled his slightly spicy smell and it almost made her swoon.
“You wanted to talk to me about the resort manager?” Josh took another bite of his bar.
Angie told Josh her concerns about Andrew Flynn and how the dry cleaner claimed there was blood on the suit that Flynn dropped off to be cleaned. “He is probably innocent, but I thought I’d let you know what we found out.”
“It’s definitely disconcerting. He has seemed very distracted and he continues to leave the resort at odd times when he’s supposed to be working.” Josh shook his head. “I dislike confrontation. I’ve asked him if anything was wrong, but he just brushes my questions aside or makes some lame excuse. I don’t understand him. We were thrilled about hiring Flynn. Now it’s become a real thorn in my side.”
