“Those could have been Joey’s. He was probably smoking while he watched Daisy through the window.” Sasha shuddered. “To think that was happening right under our own noses.”
“Yes, it’s not a good thought. But don’t worry. Araminta will get to the bottom of it. She’s on the right track.” Arun settled on the other side of Araminta and sighed as she reached down to pet him. “He was certain that his mistress was investigating the right clues, yet something bothered him about the case. Too bad he just couldn’t quite put his paw on what it was.”
Chapter Fourteen
Back at home, Araminta was excited to tell Daisy the news, both about what she’d learned from Vivianne about Joey and the flowers, and the very generous donation from Tony. But when she walked inside, she saw Daisy preening over a brand-new bouquet of what looked to be about three dozen deep-red roses.
She drew up, her excitement curbed for the moment... her flower theory now blown out of the water. If Joey had been the one sending the lovely floral arrangements to Daisy, things no longer made sense. He was dead—and yet Daisy was still getting roses? She looked for an attached card, but just as the others had been, this bouquet was also without.
“So, how did it go with Tony?” Daisy asked, her attention no longer on the flowers. “Did you get a donation for the shelter?”
“I did.” Araminta showed her the check that Tony had written himself. “This will help so much with the cats.”
“That’s great.” Daisy smiled warmly at Arun and Sasha. “And did your visit shed any light on the investigation?”
Araminta wasn’t exactly sure about that now. “Not really.”
“Oh well, no worries. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Araminta was heartened by Daisy’s confidence in her. She would have to work harder to find the identity of the killer.
“This check will allow us to get more blankets and cat beds.” Daisy was genuinely pleased that the shelter would be getting a big donation. She was as devoted to the cat shelter as Araminta was, especially now that Archie was gone, and she needed to fill her time with charitable endeavors.
“Indeed. It’s so generous of him.” Araminta watched as Arun jumped up on the table, sniffed the flowers, and meowed down at Sasha.
“And we’ll get plenty more from the donations and entry fees at the cat show.” Daisy rubbed Arun under the chin. “Have you seen Yancy’s handiwork with the shrubberies? I do think this will be the best cat show yet.”
Araminta nodded as she listened to Daisy chatter on about the improvements at the cat shelter that she hoped would happen. Araminta couldn’t concentrate on that right now. She was busy readjusting her suspect list and wondering about the flowers. How could the flowers still be arriving after Joey’s death? Vivianne had mentioned something about a standing order. Maybe Joey had arranged for continued delivery. That would explain why they kept coming after his death.
“Daisy, I was wondering… which florist are these flowers from?”
Daisy picked up a little card that was on the table. “Freshly Flowers. They always put this card in even though it has nothing written on it. Advertising, I guess. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. They’re so pretty, I was just wondering.” Araminta didn’t want to worry Daisy about the flowers until she’d checked things out further. Hopefully, someone at Freshly Flowers would be able to tell her if there was a standing order to deliver flowers here on a continued basis.
Daisy turned and fluffed the flowers again.
Arun and Sasha both meowed, which Araminta took as a sign that she was on the right track. She faked a yawn. “Oh dear, I am tired. I guess conversing with organized crime bosses does take a lot of one. If you don’t mind, I’ll go have a nap before dinner.”
“Of course not. Have a good sleep,” Daisy said sweetly.
Araminta didn’t waste any time getting up to her room. She needed to call the florist and find out about those flowers.
The florist claimed they didn’t have any automatic standing orders and wouldn’t divulge any information as to who sent the flowers to Moorecliff Manor, so Araminta couldn’t verify that it was Joey who had sent them.
She was still no further in her investigation when the murder became the topic of the Moorecliff’s conversation again that evening. It started when Reggie arrived.
“Anyone else take note of the limo just below the end of the drive? Are we being watched by the police, do you think?” He asked of no one and everyone when he entered the front parlor, where the family had gathered before dinner.
Araminta snorted. “Since when do the police have limousines? No, it’s not the locals down at the PD, but you aren’t the first to notice that car.”
“Araminta and I saw it when we came back from the Lounge the other night,” Stephanie told him. “Wonder who’s in it?”
Araminta wondered too. She’d been keeping an eye out since Stephanie had spotted it the other day, but it hadn’t been back. Until now. Was it Vivianne come to find out what was so special about Daisy? Her reference to her in the office earlier spoke of animosity, and she had just found out about the flowers. Or was it the person who had left the cigar the next day? And, if so, who was that person?
Reggie handed Harold his jacket then sat beside his sister on the sofa. “Maybe I should go down there and find out?”
Suddenly, a scene from an old ’80s movie flitted through Araminta’s thoughts. She could see the out-of-town detective instructing the locals of Beverly Hills how to use intonation to sound more threatening and sincere. “Do we have any bananas?”
Reggie and Stephanie turned to look at her with confusion in their eyes. Daisy laughed. “I’m sure whoever is staking us out from the limo would never fall for that trick, Araminta.”
After supper, Daisy suggested they have a go at billiards and invited staff to join in. Araminta loved billiards, and playing the game would help her subconscious mind think about the case. Hopefully, she could let her brain figure out who the killer was while she was winning the table.
Of the staff, Mary usually won against whomever she was playing against, but tonight, Harold had been displaying remarkable skill.
“It’s the glasses,” Stephanie joked. “He’s going to outplay us all, now that he can actually see.”
Daisy, who was more of a casual player, grinned at her stepdaughter’s analysis. “Just wait until the hearing devices arrive and he can hear what you’re saying about him too. Right, Harold?”
She timed her comment just when he was about to make a shot.
“Hmm. What was that?” he asked, his attention distracted. The shot he was trying to make almost succeeded, but the necessary momentum had been lost. The ball hit the bumper a little shy of the diamond and missed the pocket he’d been aiming for.
Stephanie laughed. “Good one, Daisy. And don’t even bother to tell me distracting Harold from making his shot wasn’t what you were trying to do.”
“Hustler!” Reggie declared as he bent to queue up his own shot.
“It had to be Vivianne,” Araminta said then blinked when everyone suddenly turned to stare at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Oh, excuse me, darlings. I didn’t realize I’d spoken my thoughts aloud.”
Reggie shook his head. “Thinking about the murder again, huh? I think you should have been a detective, Aunt Minty. You’re always analyzing things. Always looking for clues.”
“I actually considered it once,” Araminta surprised him by admitting. “Back in the day, I knew more about what was going on in this town than the senior police force detectives.”
Stephanie hid a smile. “Really? That’s not what Ivan told me his grandfather says about you.”
“That old coot.” Araminta waved away the comment. “If it weren’t for me, Jacob Hershey would never have solved half the cases they put him on.”
“So, what happened today that makes you think it was Vivianne who killed Joey?” Trinity asked. “I know you went to speak with Mr. Ro
mano about a donation for the cat shelter, but you saw Vivianne too?”
“I did. She was angry over something she’d noted in Tony’s accounts. Joey was buying flowers for someone on the company’s tab. He had a picture of Daisy in his car, and I think Vivianne saw that picture and tried to rip it up. The flowers, then, were obviously for Daisy, and Vivianne wasn’t happy about that. Oh! And Vivianne has a small gun, though she claimed it was stolen. Hmmm… come to think of it, that gun has yet to be found. Maybe finding it would help prove to the police that she is the killer.”
Daisy blushed at the mention of the picture and flowers but said nothing. Instead, she focused on making the shot she had queued.
“They had an argument at work. A fight. Joey left, and in a fit of rage, Vivianne must have followed him,” Araminta continued, trying to piece everything together. To Daisy, she said, “He must have been stalking you.”
Yancy leaned against the edge of the billiards table, weighing the odds of Daisy actually making her shot with his gaze. “You’re probably right, Araminta. There’s been a lot more disturbance in the garden lately. The amount of smashed shrubbery and broken plants is higher than usual. I had put it down to the wildlife, but now that you mention the possibility of Ms. Daisy being stalked, I’m inclined to agree.”
Reggie’s gaze snapped across the table to meet his stepmother’s. “So someone is still lurking around? If Vivianne did do it, as Araminta thinks, is it possible she might come after you next?”
She didn’t want to mention it because she didn’t want to upset Daisy or the others, but Araminta had worried over the same conclusion. Had Joey’s death been enough to satisfy Vivianne’s jealousy? Or, was she still so angry over the loss of his attention to another woman that she might feel the need to make Daisy pay for Joey’s obsessive indiscretion too?
Chapter Fifteen
Araminta decided to go for a walk in the garden after having enjoyed a rousing game of billiards with the family. The sun was just beginning to set; the air was warm, and there was a tranquil feeling of being connected to nature while walking among the roses, the lilies, and the hydrangeas.
Mostly, she’d come out to ruminate more about Joey Tuccinelli’s murder, and it was quieter out here. Plus, as long as she was with them, to keep an eye out that they didn’t dig up all the newly planted florals and shrubbery, Arun and Sasha could romp and play as met their whim.
Inside, chatting with the family (she considered the Moorecliff staff as much family as she did her own blooded kin) about the murder, she’d thought she had everything worked out. Joey had developed an unhealthy obsession for Daisy, one he began to act upon after Archie’s death. She supposed he figured he had a chance with Daisy now that her husband was out of the way. But he didn’t count on Vivianne, his current girlfriend, finding out. He also hadn’t realized the depths of her jealousy.
But what if Vivianne wasn’t the only jealous one? The cigar butt that had been found the day after the murder nagged at Araminta. As far as she knew, Daisy did not smoke cigars. She had to admit she had been a bit myopic in her consideration of the clues. Could Daisy have a second admirer, one who was jealous enough of Joey that he killed him?
Plenty of people at the Lantern Lounge smoked cigars. Sal, Tony, probably a few of Tony’s other henchmen.
“Meow!” The cats had jumped up on the brick wall that separated the formal garden from the side road that ran the length of the estate. The old wall was almost five feet high and lovely, with old worn brick and moss. The cats liked to lounge on the cement cap, but Araminta preferred that they didn’t. She didn’t want them getting the notion to jump off and run onto the road, even though it was a dirt road that was never traveled.
“Get down now, you two!”
The cats strutted and purred. Araminta scooped Arun up in her arms, and something at the end of the road caught her eye. She put him down at her feet, and Sasha followed, jumping down and twining around her ankles.
“Now, what is that?” She craned her neck, her heart racing when she noticed it was the black limo. Now she was sure: someone was watching the house. But was it Vivianne with malicious intent toward Daisy or someone else? Sal had driven Vivianne in the limo before, but plenty of people probably used the limo, including Sal.
If Joey was Daisy’s secret admirer, if he’d been the one sending her bouquets daily, how had there been a new bouquet when the supposed sender of them was dead? And why was there another cigar butt found in the garden after the body had been taken away? And where was the murder weapon?
This reminds me of the Bucharelli case…
Jacob’s words came to mind almost as if they’d floated in on the breeze. She remembered how uptight Jacob had been while working to solve the tangle of that case. Every lead seemed to fit, right up to the end. His frustration had been a palpable thing... and he truly hadn’t appreciated her efforts to help him resolve the case. Every mention she made of a possibility practically made his eyebrows swing from fury. Of course, it hadn’t been directed at her. Rather, he’d turned it on himself—and it hadn’t helped a whit. Once he stepped back from the case for a bit and allowed his subconscious a moment to piece together the threads, the answer to the near-unsolvable riddle had come effortlessly.
“Minta, you were right, girl. Darn it if you weren’t!” he’d announced at first opportunity the next time he’d seen her.
Araminta felt a coziness envelop her just thinking of it. When he was right, Jacob Hershey was arrogantly supreme. But when he was wrong—at least he’d been man enough to tell her so. But what was it again that she’d been right about? The motive? No, no, it was something else.
In her memories, she could see the brilliant twinkle in Jacob’s eyes as he slapped his hat against his knee. “We had the motive right but the suspect wrong, just as you said. But I figured it out, and today guess who we put behind bars? Elvin Hubert Bucharelli!”
She’d been happy for him, that he’d finally found a resolution. So happy, she’d put her arms around his neck for a hug, and he’d swung her around in circles, euphoric in his moment of happiness. He’d kissed her that day too. It was their first real kiss…
“The motive is right but the suspect is wrong…” Araminta said the words out loud, hoping the sound of them or something in her tone would reveal whatever it was about this case that she was so obviously missing. Her brows shot up in reaction to a sudden discovery. “Oh. Oh, my. That’s exactly it!”
She rushed toward the house, calling for Sasha and Arun to follow her. She had to call Ivan and let him know what was going on.
But when she got to the back door, before her hand could twist the knob to open it, the thing opened in front of her. Araminta grabbed for the door frame to steady herself. The last thing she needed right now was to end up getting ahead of herself and falling.
“Oh, Aunt Minta, you were right!” Stephanie told her. There was an air of breathlessness in her tone. “Ivan called a few minutes ago. You were right. The police are headed to the Lantern Lounge to arrest Joey Tuccinelli’s killer. It was Vivianne, just as you said.”
“Oh no! Have Harold call for the car. We have to get down there.” Araminta headed for the stairs. “I’ll grab my purse and be right down. Call Ivan and tell him not to leave the premises until I get there. There’s something very important in regards to the case I need to explain.”
Galvanized by her aunt’s rapid-fire orders, Stephanie raced to the staff’s stairs and called for Mary, Harold, or Trinity. “Someone have the car brought round, please, and quickly! There’s trouble brewing around the Tuccinelli case, and we need to rush. I’ll be going out with Aunt Minty.”
Five minutes later, Araminta, Reginald, Stephanie, and Daisy were in the car and headed for town as quickly as the speed limits would allow.
“Why are we going to speak with Ivan now?” Reggie asked. “Vivianne’s the murderer. You said so yourself.”
“Because that’s what I believed, at first. She was the one t
o whom all the evidence led, just like with Elvin Bucharelli,” Araminta explained.
“Elvin Bucha—who?” Daisy asked. “What does this guy have to do with the case at hand?”
The car sped around a particularly sharp curve—too fast—which ended up jostling the occupants. “My word, man,” Reggie grouched at the driver. “Are you trying to kill us?”
“Of course he isn’t,” Araminta said calmly. “Olaf merely recognizes the urgency of the moment.”
Reggie didn’t look at all mollified. “And that means... what?”
Araminta smiled. “It means he knows I’ve figured it out. He also knows the police are headed to the Lounge and they’re about to arrest Vivianne, but we can’t let that happen because he also realized the reason we can’t.”
Frowning now, Daisy asked, “And that is?”
Araminta shot her a look. “Because I know who Joey Tuccinelli’s real killer is.”
Chapter Sixteen
Araminta and Stephanie were the first of the Moorecliffs to arrive in Vivianne’s office at the back of the Lantern Lounge. The room was a bit of a mess—the potted plant in the corner that Araminta had carefully kept her cats out of before was on its side; dirt was scattered everywhere.
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t kill him!” Vivianne’s tearful, insistent voice split through the more muted tones of the policeman who was busy reading her her rights while another clamped her in cuffs. Ivan Hershey was standing slightly to the left of the accused, his shoulders straight, his expression stiff.
“What is going on here, Detective?” Araminta asked, as if she had every right to a clear and immediate answer.
For a minute, she thought Jacob’s grandson might refuse to fill her in on the details, but after a few tense seconds, he stepped toward the door, motioning for her to follow him. In the hallway, where Daisy and Reginald had decided to wait for the moment, Ivan paused to offer a nod of greeting to the two of them before turning to Araminta.
Homicide In The Hydrangeas Page 6
