“So are you,” the detective said.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” I told her. “I doubt you’re even considering me seriously. Listen a lot of jewelry seems to have gone missing from this house.”
“Is that what everyone is gossiping about?” The detective asked making another note in her book. “Most of the people around me are more interested in the inheritance.”
“Everyone but Leanne’s son, he thinks she’s going to be fired for mistakes,” I added.
“Financial or romantic?”
“No idea.”
“Worth looking into,” Garza remarked. “Oh, Miss Sweeting, incidentally, your aunts are the oddest people. Every time I bring up fingerprints they vanish like terrified rabbits.”
I gulped. “You saw their rap sheets. They’re all anarchists at heart. Fingerprinting seems very establishment to them. Bet you could get them to do it if you hosted the fingerprinting at a nudist event for saving owls,” I managed, hoping that sounded innocent enough.
“Ruby wouldn’t be against it.”
I laughed and covered my mouth. “It’s so inappropriate to be laughing at a wake, detective.”
“Life is full of inappropriate moments,” she said, and left.
“Isn’t it just,” I agreed.
“Isn’t what ‘just’?”
I turned to see Rory. He was clean-shaven and his hair was still a bit damp. He smelled like soap and minty shampoo. “Hi!”
“Hi,” he said, guarded.
“Hi.” Awkward pause. “Oh, I said that already, didn’t I?” I took a deep breath. “Listen Rory, I’m sorry.”
“For?”
A scream came from the foyer, and we raced towards it. Rory took my hand to make sure I stayed beside him. Maureen was lying at the bottom of the steps. Max was at the top looking surprised. “He shoved me,” she yelled.
Max’s face darkened. George came rushing into the room. He helped Maureen to her feet. She clung to him. “Oh, Daddy we were arguing and he pushed me.”
“Max,” George called. Max glowered but didn’t say a word.
“Do you want to press charges?” Detective Garza asked.
Maureen opened her mouth, but George got there first saying, “No, she does not. This is just sibling rivalry. Nothing criminal.”
“He could have killed me,” Maureen began. George shushed her.
“Mr. Stewart, your daughter has the right to pursue—”
“No, no charges,” George barked. “Everyone go back into the drawing room. We will ah, open a few more bottles of champagne.” He pulled Maureen up the stairs after Max.
Rory and I stood there as the room cleared. I started to move, but he held me in place.
“Let’s go up the servants’ steps and see if we can hear anything,” he murmured. I nodded and went with him, my stomach flip-flopping. We sneaked around to the back stairs and climbed up until we heard voices.
“That is quite enough, Max,” George was whispering fiercely. “You two need to solve your differences now, or one of us is ending up in jail for murder.”
“You have to kill someone to go to jail for murder,” Maureen told him.
“They think one of us did it,” George hissed.
“What a coincidence,” Max said. “So do I.”
“Are you confessing?” Maureen asked. There was the sound of someone being shoved.
“Stop it,” George growled. “It doesn’t matter which one of us did it. Your mother is dead. Our focus now is to not go to jail for it. Any of us. You two need to bury the hatchet so the police don’t pin this on one of you.”
“Oh, father,” Max said sweetly. “That sounds almost like you care about us.”
“I love you two idiots,” George told them. “Even with all your issues, you’re my kids. I am going to take care of you.”
“Like you do all of your kids,” Maureen said.
“Shut up,” George slapped her. We cringed at the sound of the contact. “We have a house full of people and you want to air dirty laundry? That detective is going to be everywhere until she finds out who killed your mother.”
“Do you even miss her,” Maureen asked.
“No,” George said. “I don’t miss her at all.”
Rory coughed and the three in the hall became silent. I glared at him, willing him not to cough again. We waited silently, but it seemed like that was the end of the conversation. After a moment of silence, we heard footsteps going in different directions. Rory shrugged, and we crept down the steps one at a time. At the bottom we tried not to race away. Nonchalantly we made ourselves blend back into the party, even taking champagne flutes.
Rory downed his and got a second. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes.” I bit my fingernail, trying to sort all the pieces of the puzzle. But they just wouldn’t all slide into place.
“Well, that settles it for me,” Rory said. “I think that cold bastard did it.”
Chapter Eight
I felt dizzy, and not just from the champagne I was sipping. The scene I’d just overheard replayed itself in my mind, with Rory’s pronouncement of George’s guilt reverberating in my ears.
Truth was, though, that I was leaning towards George Stewart, too. He clearly hated Vanessa, and wasn’t even trying to hide that fact from the police. He was shutting the other two up, not caring about justice, only his family’s safety and status. He seemed to have a lovechild with the maid. He stood to inherit everything. I bit my lip. He was wearing cologne similar to the one on the bedroom floor. But was he actually a killer… or just a jerk?
“Let’s go find Leanne,” I said to Rory.
He downed the rest of his champagne and nodded. “Sure. I want to hear her take on this, too.”
We found her in the kitchen, with tears streaming down her face and my Auntie Joe’s arm around her.
Rory charged forward. “What’s happening? Are you alright, Leanne?”
“No,” Auntie Joe said. “This poor girl is under a lot of pressure right now. She planned this whole affair herself, you know.” Auntie Joe patted Leanne’s back. “Be a good girl. Take this handkerchief and dry your eyes.”
The handkerchief seemed to glow just the slightest bit. I raised my eyebrow as Leanne took it from Auntie Joe.
“You have no idea what it’s been like working here all these years,” Leanne blubbered. She blew her nose. “It’s not just a job. They play games. They make us do things. Things I wouldn’t normally do. But if you don’t, you’ll get the sack. I’m a good person.”
I tried to sound gentle, “Of course you’re a good person. Who thinks you’re not a good person?”
“Everyone,” she said. She stuffed the handkerchief into her purse. “They think I’m a thief and a murderer. What you don’t understand is that I do as I am told. I do whatever it is I am told to do. I’m so scared for my baby.”
“What did you do?”
“She does whatever I tell her to do,” Maureen said, standing in the doorway with blazing eyes. “She’s my maid. Leanne, take another round of drinks to the guests. If someone catches you crying, tell them you miss my mother.”
Leanne left the kitchen, sniffling. Maureen plastered on a smile. “I am so sorry. She’s not a very good maid. I wanted to fire her years ago, but my parents are soft when it comes to people like her.”
“Like what?” Rory bristled.
“Thieves,” Maureen whispered. “She steals. I didn’t want to say anything to anyone. I just wanted to quietly get rid of her. I would even recommend her to a few people to keep up the pretense for her. She has a kid to watch out for, after all.”
Maureen’s phone rang. I glanced at the screen as she hit ignore. Did it say seventeen missed calls? She stuffed it into her purse. “I know a lot of people think Max and I are heartless, and yes, my brother has his appetites, but we are not animals. If you’ll excuse me now, I need to see to the other guests.”
“If I were Leanne, I would have poisoned their soup.” Aunt
ie Joe whispered. I nodded. A scent lingered in the air that tapped on my brain but didn’t resolve itself into a memory. It was nagging. Maybe if I focused on it.
“Wait,” Rory said, “You don’t seriously think Leanne did it, do you?”
“I haven’t ruled her out yet,” I said.
“Well, she didn’t do it,” Rory said.
“We don’t know that,” I argued. “She’s clearly afraid of them. What if she’s the one who stole all the jewelry, not Vanessa? She did seem awfully surprised when I told her Vanessa was a well known kleptomaniac.”
“As if it was news to her,” Auntie Joe said. “I don’t know dear, she seems like a sweet girl in a tough spot.”
“Yeah, but is she?”
“I know her.” Rory looked mad. “It’s not her. It’s George. He has the most to gain. Thinking its Leanne sounds like you just want to pin it on the help. We’re not all lesser beings.”
“Rory, come on I’m not like that! I’m only going where the facts are leading me.”
“What facts? We have hearsay and rumors,” Rory countered.
“We have the cologne, the IOU, and the phone messages,” I pointed out.
“None of which points to Leanne.” Rory was turning red. “You just think she did it because she’s the help and she must be so bitter.”
Ouch. “I’m not some stuck up little rich girl, no matter how much you want to paint me as spoiled. It’s not my fault you guys lost all your money.” The words shot out before I could stop them and I saw the hurt on his face. My stomach flipped. I would have done anything to take them back. “Rory, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. “That’s what you all think. You think I did something wrong and that’s why I’m poor now.”
“No, I don’t. That’s crazy!”
He glared. “You’re wrong about Leanne.”
“I haven’t even accused her of anything yet. I just didn’t write her off just because she seems pathetic.”
“I’m pathetic?” Leanne said. She must have come back into the kitchen just in time for me to shove my foot straight into my mouth.
“No, I was saying that Rory thought I thought you were pathetic. Which isn’t true. The reason I’m not writing you off as a suspect is that I think you’re a strong candidate, not that I think you’re pathetic.” I clapped a hand over my mouth.
Leanne’s eyes were blazing. “So you don’t think I’m pathetic, but you think I’m a murderer?”
“Yeah, maybe you should try explaining yourself again, Ella,” Rory said.
“I’m going home,” I said. I really didn’t know what else to say.
“Maybe you’d better,” Leanne said.
“But you’re hiding something,” I said pointing a finger at her.
“I do what I’m told,” Leanne said. But I could see the anger melting away a bit. “Whatever I’m told, understand?” she added quietly.
Was she trying to hint something to me?
I looked at her pointedly. “Did someone tell you to kill Vanessa?”
“You’re a terrible detective,” she said with a sigh. “Get out. Show’s over anyway.”
Rory and I glared at each other the entire way back to my house. Auntie Joe wisely stayed silent. When we got to the porch he didn’t say goodnight. He just walked off. I sat down heavily on the step. Auntie Joe sat next to me.
“What did I do?”
“Boys are weird,” Auntie Joe said, putting an arm around me. “But I’m guessing you hurt his pride. He sees himself like Leanne and you think she’s a murderer.”
“That makes no sense,” I said. “I don’t even think Leanne did it. I think one of the family did it.”
Aunt Sarah and Aunt Hazel came up the driveway with Mother and Father. Father was eating a donut. He was the only one who seemed cheerful, but that was Father. The aunts sat on the porch step with us, as Mother and Father continued into the house, blowing goodnight kisses behind them.
“That detective was after me all evening,” Aunt Hazel said with a long suffering sigh. “She needs fingerprints.”
“I was eavesdropping all evening,” Aunt Sarah said, “so when she came near me I made like a potted plant. But I did get a few pieces of juicy gossip. Some woman name Gemma said that her husband bet on the ponies and saw Maureen arguing with Max over money. The guy with Maureen took the money Max was going to gamble right out of his hands.”
“Max is a degenerate,” I muttered, thinking of how he used to bully me as a kid. “That guy was probably doing him a favor.”
“Also that Maureen’s boyfriend broke up with her when Max punched him in the nose,” Sarah said. “That was when I was hiding behind the punch bowl. Somebody else said that’s the third boyfriend Maureen’s had in as many months.”
“Don’t tell me this,” I said, putting my face in my hands. “I don’t need to hear about more suspects. You’re thinking it could be one of these boyfriends?”
“It’s entirely possible,” said Aunt Hazel. “We had a case just like that about a hundred years back. Bertram Kinkaid, remember, girls?”
The aunts began murmuring. I was so wrung up, I didn’t even have any energy to be curious at that point.
“I bet you Max did it to get more money for gambling,” I said.
“What?” Aunt Sarah stared at me.
“Yes, it makes sense. Listen,” I said standing up. “Max wears the same cologne as his dad. I smelled them both tonight and they both smell similar to the cologne found all over Vanessa and in the box Rory broke.”
Aunt Hazel nodded. “I’m with you so far.”
“Max does a lot of bad things. He was probably buying drugs in the restaurant when we saw him. That’s why he was hanging around the bathroom, either doing drugs or buying them.”
“Okay,” Auntie Joe drawled.
“He sees Sarah drop the bag and scoops up the knife in the confusion,” I said, getting into my storyline. “Then he goes home and kills his mom because if he gets away with it he inherits a fortune. What do you think?”
“I think it sort of makes sense. Ella, you should tell Detective Garza what you think,” Auntie Joe said. “Then she can investigate and put him in jail, if he did it.”
“Wait,” Hazel said, holding up a hand. “What about the I.O.U. in Vanessa’s hand? What about her threatening messages? Where do they come in?”
“The I.O.U. was probably Max’s,” I said.
“And the messages?”
“I don’t know,” I told them honestly. “But do you know who would? Max.”
“You’re not going to confront him?” Auntie Joe said, covering her heart. “He could be a killer, Ella!”
“I know,” I said trying to sound and feel brave. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, call Detective Garza. Her number is on my bedside table.” I stiffened my spine, turned on my heel and raced back over towards the Stewart mansion.
The aunts called after me, but I wasn’t interested in listening right then. I needed to put this thing to rest. Then maybe I could figure out a way to make it up to Rory. Honestly, I had no idea what had gotten into him! I didn’t care that he was a mailman. I liked it. It just made him even more normal.
I frowned. Maybe he thought that I thought he was too normal. Ordinary, even. My steps faltered. I shook my head to clear it and put the Rory problem on the back burner for now. I’d arrived at Vanessa’s back door. I put my hand on the knob, about to twist it open when I heard yelling from inside. Ducking to one side, I peered through the kitchen window.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” It was Max the Murderer. He was grabbing at Leanne.
I put my hand on the doorknob again, about to rescue her, but something held me back. Through the window I could see a paper bag in Leanne’s hands. Max tore it loose and jewelry flew everywhere. It was like a precious gem explosion.
Leanne cried out and Max grabbed her by her wrists. “You little thief! You let everyone believe my mother was stealing their
trinkets, but it was you the whole time!” He shook her, his face red with rage. “My mother was a saint. Well, she’s dead and you can’t use her as a shield anymore.”
“Wait, Mr. Stewart you don’t understand…” Leanne pleaded. “Let me explain, please!”
“Explain? You ruined my mother’s reputation. You’re not taking the rest of us down with you. You’re fired.” He let go of her arms and she melted to the floor with a wail. “Get out.”
“Mr. Stewart, no, I need this job, my son…”
Max picked her up and opened the kitchen door. I fell backwards behind the rhododendrons.
“I never want to see you or your son ever again. I’ll make sure you never work again.” He tossed her out.
Leanne landed in a heap.
Max slammed the door shut and locked it.
Leanne got up onto her knees and pounded the ground in frustration. She wiped at her face, stood up, and screamed at the closed door. Then she pulled out her cell phone and called someone for a ride. She dropped down onto the kitchen step. I was trapped in the bushes.
“After everything I did for them,” Leanne muttered. “Stupid, drug-addled idiot. He doesn’t even know what I’ve done for them.”
Was it Leanne after all? Was she going to confess while branches stuck at me where the sun didn’t shine? I strained to hear her. If it really was Leanne, I wasn’t sure where that would leave me and Rory, but I needed to know the truth, whatever it was.
“Oh, Mrs. Stewart! I miss you so much,” Leanne put her head in her hands and sobbed. “You were the only one who understood what Mr. Stewart did. I was so young and he was so handsome and charming. You understood. Oh, Mrs. Stewart! Who could do something so horrible to you?”
I deflated. I was back to square one.
Chapter Nine
I stayed crouched in the bushes, trying not to breathe too loudly. There was no way I could come out and say anything, not after what I had just heard.
Leanne cried pitifully for the first few minutes and my heart went out to her. It was as if she had lost her only friend in the world. I wish I knew the truth. What had happened between her and George Stewart? Why would Vanessa be compassionate to a woman who’d slept with her husband? Why was she stealing jewelry?
Scent of a Killer: An Ella Sweeting Aromatherapy Magic Cozy Mystery (Ella Sweeting: Witch Aromatherapist Cozies Book 1) Page 7
