by Sonia Parin
“He came across as the type to veto his granny getting a lifesaving operation. And I don’t have to dig too deeply to find dirt on him. We know William is generous... when he wants to be. If Liz Logan wants to talk him into donating his art collection, only one man could stand in her way. Stew Peters. Bumping him off would clear the way for her.”
“What sort of paintings are we talking about?” Eve asked.
“William owns a Picasso from the blue period. They’re not my favorite. Too depressing,” Jill said. “If I had the chance to acquire a Picasso, I’d select something more cheerful, like one of his Weeping Women.”
Seeing Jack frowning, Eve explained, “Picasso used bolder colors and brushstrokes and most of the pictures are abstracts.”
“Wow,” Jill exclaimed. “I found an article about William’s silver collection. Apparently, it’s the finest in the world. It’s housed in one of his properties in upstate New York. Can you imagine that? An entire house devoted to his collection.”
“With any luck, he’ll turn his leaky Rock-Maine Island house into a museum and only visit once a year.” Eve finished her coffee and, glancing over at the sunroom, wondered if Mischief and Mr. Magoo would mind sharing the couch with her.
“Haven’t you had enough for one day, Eve? Maybe you should think about getting some rest,” Jack suggested.
“Eve and I can take turns curling up on the couch,” Jill said. “We’re not prepared to leave the kitchen unattended. I’ll take the first shift. You need to be on your toes to catch the killer, Jack. So, you should go upstairs and have a good night’s rest. Make sure to steer clear of the top floor rooms, just in case Martha Payne sprinkled ricin on the pillows.”
Eve watched Jack’s expression shift from amusement to resignation. By now, he knew it would be best to take the road of least resistance.
“There’ll be an officer posted at the kitchen door throughout the night, so you can rest easy.” He rose to his feet and hesitated. “If anything happens, holler.”
“What if we’re bound and gagged before we can call for help?” Jill asked and gave Jack an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m stuck in worst case scenarios. They’re streaming on a loop. And I’m usually the calm one.”
Jack sunk back down on his chair.
Eve leaned her head on his shoulder. “You really don’t have to stay here. Jill and I can look after ourselves.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I might have to rescue the killer.”
Eve checked the clock. “I wish Mira would call to say she’s arrived safely.”
Jack frowned. “Did you ask her to call?”
“No, but after the scare I had when I thought she’d gone missing, she promised to never put me through that again.”
“She’ll be fine. Josh organized a police escort.”
Hearing a knock on the door that led to the dining room, Eve shot to her feet.
Jill laughed. “That can’t be the killer, Eve. They don’t usually bother knocking.”
Bracing herself, she opened the door.
“Hi. Sorry to bother you. I’m... I’m Miranda Leeds. I saw the light on and wondered if perhaps I might have some peppermint tea.”
“Sure, I’ll bring one out for you.”
Miranda Leeds smiled. “Oh, wow. That’s a stunning stove. Do you mind if I take a closer look?”
Surprised by the woman’s interest, Eve said, “Feel free.” In her experience, women who lunched rarely if ever stepped inside a kitchen or showed interest in what went on in there. Eve remembered seeing Miranda Leeds in the library when she’d come downstairs after her break. Engaging her brain, she also remembered there had been a man with her. Looking over Jill’s shoulder, Eve read the list Jill had compiled and saw the name Marcus Leeds.
Her aunt had been in awe of William Hunter’s ability to remain on good terms with his ex-wives. What did it say about the man when he also socialized with his ex’s new husband?
“I’m in the process of remodeling my kitchen,” Miranda explained. “As much as I love this stove, I doubt it would fit in there.”
“There are smaller ones,” Eve offered as she put the kettle on.
Miranda Leeds tucked her hair back and bent down to inspect the inside of the stove. It only then occurred to Eve she should be keeping a close eye on her.
“How is everyone holding up?” Eve asked. “Stew Peters’ death must have come as a shock.”
“Oh... We’re all sort of drowning our sorrows.”
“Did he have a pre-existing condition?”
“Not that we know of.” Miranda continued to be more interested in the stove.
Eve didn’t want to be overly critical. After all, everyone dealt with loss in their own way. “According to rumors, J.M. Kernel didn’t get along with Stew Peters.”
Miranda straightened and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I guess we all had issues with Stew, but that’s to be expected when people spend a lot of time together.”
“Did it ever get out of hand?” Eve asked.
Miranda chortled. “Stew went overboard once. Or rather, he was thrown overboard by Kernel.”
“How did that happen?”
Miranda shrugged. “Stew was being his usual obnoxious self, critiquing Kernel’s latest book. Actually tearing it apart.”
Eve poured the tea and handed Miranda the mug.
“Thank you.” She strode off only to stop. “I guess if I think about it, we all had reason to dislike Stew. Perhaps even enough to want him dead.”
What a strange statement to make, Eve thought. “Really?”
“My divorce would have been more beneficial to me without him getting in the way,” Miranda admitted, “Although, I really shouldn’t complain. I married my divorce lawyer.”
“And William doesn’t mind socializing with him?”
“William’s too easy-going to quibble.”
Eve tilted her head. “I keep hearing good things about William. Why did you divorce?”
Miranda smiled. “He has a wandering eye and I prefer my men to be monogamous.” She smiled. “That’s probably his only fault.” Shrugging, she thanked Eve for the tea and left.
Eve closed the door behind her. “Well, what do think about that?”
“I think they sent her in here to play mind games with us,” Jill said. “She waited for you to ask her leading questions and didn’t appear to mind answering them.”
“Which means what?” Eve asked.
“That your reputation for catching killers has preceded you. That she wanted to give you some misleading information or she wanted to find out what we knew. I wouldn’t believe anything she said.”
“I found it interesting that she actually mentioned everyone having a reason to want Stew dead,” Eve remarked. “Why bring up the subject of motive? As far as they know, Stew died from natural causes. No one mentioned murder.”
Jill huffed out a breath. “I think we’re going about this all wrong. We should be in there grilling them, one by one, until someone breaks. We could start with the author.” Jill grinned. “He’s a mountain of a man. It would be quite symbolic for him to crumble under our tenacious pressure. Then everyone else would follow.”
Eve went to stand by the window and gazed out at the still stormy night sky. “It’s strange. J.M. Kernel did not strike me as a violent man. In fact, he came across as a gentle giant.”
Jill nodded. “I’ve formed the same impression so I’m going to put Miranda Leeds at the top of our person of interest list, right alongside her new husband, Marcus. Hypothetically, he might be the killer and she came in here to sow a few seeds of doubt and lead us on another trail.”
“Is she covering for herself or her husband?” Eve asked.
“When she told you, she could have done better out of her divorce, I picked up on her resentment. Stew Peters had a hand in her not getting everything she wanted. That gives her motive.” Jill sat up. “Actually, it’s a perfect motive. She poisons a single cigar and sits
back to wonder who will smoke it, her ex-husband or the accountant who deprived her of a bigger windfall. Either one would make her happy.”
Jack sighed.
“Jack, you can sigh all you like. It’s not going to stop Jill. And, for all you know, she might be onto something.” Eve tried to settle down but she couldn’t, so she strode around the kitchen and adjoining dining area. “When will the lab report come in?”
“Early morning,” Jack said. “That should give you enough time to run through all the guests and point the finger of suspicion at them.”
Eve smiled. “You’re actually getting used to us brainstorming. You said that with a straight face.” Hearing the kitchen phone ringing, Eve rushed to answer it. A quick glance at the caller ID told her it was her aunt. “Is everything all right, Mira?”
“Yes, dear. I just wanted to call and let you know we’re home safe. It took us longer than expected because the police officer had to give the others an escort home. How is everything over at your end?”
Eve caught her up on the last half hour. “I’m worried about having left the kitchen unattended. Josh assures us no one came in but I’m on the brink of emptying the cupboards and throwing everything out.”
“That’s a bit extreme,” Mira said, “Why don’t you wait for the lab report to come in? For all you know, Stew Peters might have had a pre-existing condition.”
“If that’s the case, I wish he’d waited until tomorrow to die at William Hunter’s place instead of at my inn. I don’t care how inconsiderate that sounds. I’ll never shake off this dark cloud. I swear, if one of the guests killed him, I will sue them for damages to my reputation.” Eve crinkled her nose. “Hang on. I think I smell cigar smoke again.” Eve set the phone down and turned to the others. “Can you smell that?”
Following the rich aroma, Jack and Eve rushed out of the kitchen.
They found William Hunter and J.M. Kernel outside on the front veranda smoking.
“Are you both out of your minds?” Eve made a grab for the author’s cigar but, laughing, he skipped away from her. “You must have a death wish. Where did those cigars come from?”
William Hunter blew a smoke ring. Eve watched it hover for a second before a gust of wind swept it away.
Annoyingly, when Jack snatched the cigars from them, neither man put up a struggle.
Eve jabbed her finger against William Hunter’s chest. “I’m going to sue you for... for emotional stress and... and defamation.”
William Hunter threw his head back and laughed.
Eve made another grab for the man, but Jack restrained her by putting his arms around her waist and hauling her back.
William continued to laugh and then...
He bent over and coughed.
For a second, Eve thought he might have been chocking on his laughter, but then she saw his face turning blue. “He’s chocking to death.”
Chapter Nine
“Quick, help him. He can’t die here.” Anywhere else but here, Eve thought.
Jack rushed to stand behind William and wrapped his arms around his waist. Grasping his fists, he pressed into William’s upper abdomen with a quick upward thrust.
J.M. Kernel slumped down on a chair and gaped at them.
Jack continued applying the Heimlich maneuver. Finally, William dragged in a hard breath and whistled it out. Had he choked on his own saliva or had he inhaled something?
Eve pressed her hand to her mouth. At this rate, she might have to have the house vacuumed from top to bottom. Although, the idea of sterilizing it gave her more comfort.
William garbled something incoherent as he struggled to stand upright.
“I’ll get some water,” Eve offered. Turning, she found the other guests had piled up at the front door. She had to force her way past them to get inside. Jill had stayed behind in the kitchen. Thank goodness for Jill’s common sense, Eve thought.
Filling a glass with water, Eve gave Jill a brief rundown of William’s close call.
“Death by choking. On your veranda. He should have had the decency to wander away from your property.”
“Just as well he didn’t die,” Eve said as she rushed off with the glass of water. A fourth death would have triggered another cycle of disasters.
William had managed to sit down. Eve heard the tail end of his assurance that he felt fine and there was no need to call the anyone.
“Oh, but you have to make sure you’re all right,” Eve said. “You need to spend at least a night in hospital. What if it happens again?”
Jack came to stand beside her and murmured, “Nice try, Eve. You’re stuck with him. He’s not budging.”
“You could force his hand. You’re an officer of the law,” she whispered.
“He hasn’t broken any laws, Eve.”
“He’s endangering himself and... Me.”
“You? How so?”
“I’m thinking of my reputation. It’s already fragile. Another death at my inn will incite a lynch mob. The entire town will rise up against me.” Eve shivered. “Did you at least manage to find out about the cigars? I can’t believe they would have smoked the same cigars that killed Stew Peters.”
Someone behind her gasped and whispered to the person next to them.
A man approached them. Eve worked on a process of elimination and decided it had to be Marcus Leeds.
“Did we hear you correctly? Was Stew Peters killed?”
Eve shook her head. “The wind scrambled my words. Speaking of which, we should all go back inside. It’s freezing out here.”
No one moved.
“Fine. You can all stay out here and freeze.” Eve stormed back inside. Striding into the kitchen, she asked, “Where were we?”
Jill looked up from the laptop. “You were talking to Mira and before that, we were pointing the finger of suspicion at Miranda Leeds.”
Eve looked over at the phone.
“Don’t worry, I told Mira you had to run off to deal with a situation.”
“And what did she say?”
“She wasn’t surprised and while she regretted leaving, on the way home she had a spark of an idea for her book so she was going to do some writing before going to bed. I believe tonight’s events inspired her. Oh, and I told her to lock her bedroom door in case her editor turned out to be a serial killer. One never knows these days.”
“I inspired her?” Eve asked, “Well, I’m always glad to be of help to Mira.” Eve strode up to the back kitchen door and stopped, “I’m going up to get some blankets for us.”
“Hang on, I’ll come up with you.”
With the police presence in the house, Eve now felt more confident leaving the kitchen unattended. Nevertheless, she went up the stairs two steps at a time and grabbed the first blankets she could find.
“What about pillows?” Jill asked.
Eve thought about it. “I really don’t want to get too comfortable.”
“Yes, but if you’re going to get some shuteye, you should at least do it properly.”
“Are you sure? These new pillows I purchased are magical. The moment your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep.”
Jill laughed and then she stopped. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“Yes. I paid a king’s ransom for them. They’re hotel quality.”
“I can’t wait to move in... Assuming I’ll be getting one of those pillows too.” Jill looked over her shoulder. “I don’t think anyone has come up yet.”
“All right. We have pillows and blankets. You said you’d take the first shift, so I’m going to curl up and close my eyes for a bit.” They made their way back down, both tuning in to the conversations wafting up from the living room.
“I just had a stray thought,” Eve said as they hit the bottom landing. “Martha Payne’s revolver. We should have put it away for safety.”
Instead of answering, Jill nudged her and, pressing her finger to her lips, she signaled for silence and then pointed toward the kitchen.
Eve�
�s eyes widened.
The refrigerator door stood open. Then they heard someone speak in a hushed whisper.
“I think I heard someone coming down the stairs.”
Eve didn’t recognize the voice. They had pillows and blankets as their only weapons. They’d have to do, Eve thought.
“I’m hurrying up,” the person peering inside her refrigerator said.
Eve could only see part of her feet.
Mouthing a countdown even as Jill shook her head, objecting to whatever ludicrous idea Eve was proposing, Eve got to three and lunged forward. Jill, bless her soul, did not hesitate. She threw a blanket over the person at the refrigerator while Eve aimed for the other perpetrator using her pillows as shields.
The next few moments turned into a confusion of screams as they all struggled to either hold their captors or break free.
Eve thought she heard running footsteps approaching but then Jill yelled.
“You bit me.”
A strong pair of arms wound around Eve.
“Let go, Eve. You’ll smother the woman,” Jack said.
“Only if you’ve got a hold of her,” Eve growled.
“I’ve got her,” he assured her.
Jill was still yelping from the bite she’d received. She’d let go of her prey only when Josh had rushed in to secure the woman in place, his arms clamping around the figure now covered in a blanket.
Jill held up her hand. “She left teeth marks.”
Despite being restrained by two strong men, the intruders fought like wild cats.
“Get your hands off me, you brute,” one said. “Police brutality.”
“Only if you promise to calm down.” Josh yelped. “Stop kicking.”
It took some doing, but eventually, Jack managed to ask the woman he held to identify herself.
“I thought I had the right to remain silent,” the woman exclaimed.
Josh didn’t need to try so hard. Once the woman stopped wiggling around and promised not to kick him again, he pulled the blanket off her.
“Elsie?” both Jill and Eve exclaimed.
The leader of the Sisters in Crime reading group lifted her chin in defiance. “Yes. What of it?” Fixing her glasses back in place, she had another look around. “Oh, hello Eve. Jill.”
