“Cassie and I are strangers in town, I doubt we are in danger. Your inn is so inviting, we don’t want to go anywhere else. Isn’t that right, darling?” Mike said while squeezing Cassie’s shoulder.
“Yes, sweetheart, I love this beautiful inn and I know you will keep me safe.”
These two are laying it on a little thick. As much as I appreciate the business, I don’t trust them and wish they’d find the nearest motel. I wonder if he’s kidnapped her? That’s all I need, one day a murder the next day a kidnapping.
Mike signed the register and gave Jenny his credit card. She was hoping his card wasn’t valid but when it was accepted, she had no choice but to give him the key to a room.
“I’ll call Billy to deliver your luggage to your suite.”
“That’s not necessary, we only have two small bags, I can handle them myself.”
Jenny watched as the new arrivals walked upstairs to their rooms. I think I’ll call Molly, she has good instincts about people. I’d like to get her take on the loving couple.
“You’re letting your hatred show, little girl. I think our hostess is suspicious and we don’t want anyone to know the reason we’re here.”
“Don’t call me that, I’m not a little girl, do you hate all women or is it only me.”
“I don’t hate you, I don’t like you much but I don’t hate anyone. Now, let’s discuss our plan. If you can stop cringing when I touch you, we will parade around town as a loving couple. It’s obvious Clinton came to see his daughter marry some guy. Her name is Laura Abbott Danforth, she’s a school teacher but isn’t teaching this year. They canceled their honeymoon because of the shooting.”
“How do you know they canceled the honeymoon?”
“I know because I am an experienced investigator. Did it not occur to you, little girl, to check with the airlines for their flight information?”
“The airline offered that information? I don’t believe that.”
“No, they didn’t offer it, I know people who are willing to share knowledge with me.”
“In other words, you bribe people. You must have a slew of sleazy friends. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Mike laughed, Cassandra Cross was too soft for this job. She’d find out you must sink to the criminal’s level to catch him. Mike didn’t care who murdered Clinton Abbott, his only interest is getting the jewelry back and saving the insurance company from paying the exorbitant claim. Clinton’s daughter, Laura, is the obvious path to that end.
Chapter Three
“Laura,” said Molly, “Travis Kincaid called to offer his company plane to fly you and Alec to Westbury to see your mother. Would you like to accept his offer?”
“Molly, that is wonderful, is it possible for you to come with me? Mother must be told about my father’s death and I’m not sure I can do it without you and Alec by my side.”
“Laura, you have more strength inside you than you realize. I’m sure you could handle it alone, but I will come with you. We might learn something that will help to answer the question of why your father was gunned down.”
The short flight to Westbury went smoothly. Molly contacted the nursing home where Elise Masters thought Mrs. Abbott resided.
“Yes, Mrs. Abbott is a resident of Maplewood Manor,” said the administrator. “We were unaware Glenda had a daughter. Mr. Abbott never mentioned any children.”
“Laura and her parents have been estranged for several years,” replied Molly. Without going into detail, Molly told the woman about Mr. Abbott’s recent death.
“Oh, my, I’m sorry to hear that. Yes, Mrs. Danforth is welcome to visit her mother.”
“Molly, I’m nervous,” said Laura. “My mother is a stranger to me. I’m sure it was an unpleasant surprise when she discovered she was pregnant with me. One time when she and Father were home between their travels, she stood before a full-length mirror and complained that I’d ruined her perfect size six figure. I was young and didn’t understand but felt guilty the same.”
Laura laughed but Molly knew the scars were still there.
The taxi pulled into the sprawling drive to an exquisite building nestled within the many trees surrounding it. The lush lawn was perfectly manicured with beautiful roses leading to the front doors.
This was nothing like the nursing home Molly’s great-aunt Edith was in before her death. The open lobby looked more like a five-star hotel than a facility for those in their final years. They were greeted by a pleasant young woman who escorted them to Mrs. Abbott’s room on the third floor of the west wing.
The room was large with a queen-sized bed on one side and a sitting area on the other. There was a television secured to the wall, they heard soft music playing from it.
“Mrs. Abbott is in the exercise room. She will be returning in a few minutes. Please make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”
Molly wondered the cost of this place. Her guess was in the six-figure range per year. Mrs. Abbott had been here for over four years. No wonder Mr. Abbott sold his home.
Laura sat at the edge of her chair. “I wouldn’t put it past my mother to be faking her condition. Who wouldn’t want to live in a place like this, did you see that pool? It’s more like a resort than an old folk’s home…”
Before Laura finished her thought, the door opened, and a nurse pushed Mrs. Abbott’s wheelchair into the room.
Laura gasped when she saw her mother. There was no doubt the woman was where she belonged. The once beautiful full head of wavy hair was now gray and stringy. Her green eyes no longer sparkled as she stared at the visitors showing little emotion.
“Do I know you?” Glenda asked looking directly at Laura.
“Mother, I’m Laura, your daughter.”
Glenda looked away and pointed a bony finger at the television set.
“We will watch television in a while, Mrs. Abbott,” said her nurse, Angela Jackson. “Your daughter is here with her husband and friend. They’ve come a long way to visit with you. Wouldn’t you like to say hello to Laura?”
Glenda looked at Laura again. “Where’s Clinton, is he with you?”
“I’m sorry, Mother, Clinton died. He loved you, but he can’t come to see you anymore.”
“Clinton’s dead?” She again pointed to the television and stared at it while a single tear rolled down her cheek.
The nurse called Mandy, an aide, to sit with Glenda while she walked the visitors to a private area to talk.
“Dr. Wilson will be here shortly to talk to you about your mother’s condition. In the meantime, I’ll be glad to answer any questions you have.”
“My first question is how long has she been in this state, is she getting better or worse. I would never have recognized that woman as being my mother.”
“When she first came to us, she had been released from the hospital. Your father wanted to take her home but agreed she needed more care than he could provide. She has good days and bad. At Maplewood Manor, a member of the nursing staff is with the patient twenty-four hours a day. I have been assigned to Mrs. Abbott for three years now. In addition to her daily exercise, I push her wheelchair around the grounds when it isn’t raining or snowing. She loves listening to music and we join the others in the visiting room every afternoon. Your mother doesn’t sing but does seem to enjoy listening to others. She likes television and we watch it together for a few hours a day. Her favorite is the travel channel. Mrs. Abbott seems to recognize many vacation places. I read books to her, she likes romances the best. I’m sure your mother was a charming woman. What happened to her was a tragedy.”
“Are you saying my mother has someone with her twenty-four hours a day. Is there a reason she can’t be left alone?”
“No, dear, your mother would never intentionally hurt herself, if that is what you are asking? We at Maplewood Manor offer services that go beyond most care facilities.”
“I’m sure Maplewood Manor is a wonderful place for people like my mother. However, as her only surviv
ing family member, I am unable to finance her stay here.”
Alec opened his mouth to argue that Laura was a Danforth now and able to support her mother no matter where she lives
Molly put her hand on Alec’s arm to stop him from saying what she knew he was thinking. Instinct told her Maplewood Manor was more about collecting money from wealthy families than providing comfort and care. The private facility suggested lavishness. The nursing staff with saccharine smiles hide the indifference that showed in their eyes.
“Mrs. Danforth,” Angela said quietly, “your mother is happy here at Maplewood Manor. She is accustomed to the services only our facility can provide. I’d hate to see her forced to live in a less than desirable facility.” Angela looked directly at Alec.
“Thank you, Angela. I won’t keep you away from Mother any longer. We will be fine waiting here until Dr. Wilson is available,” Laura said with a forcefulness she didn’t feel.
“Alec,” said Molly, “how much do you want to bet nurse Angela is fully aware of your financial situation?”
“I’m sure of it,” Alec replied. “Laura, if you want your mother to stay here, don’t worry about the cost.”
“That’s sweet of you Alec but I don’t know how a woman in my mother’s condition could benefit from a place like this. My father must have thought it was important to keep up appearances. He sold our home and did, heaven knows what else, to pay for her stay here. I’m interested to hear what Dr. Wilson has to say.”
Molly wondered if Mr. Abbott’s shooting had something to do with the way he was paying for his wife’s care. After they returned to Evergreen, she would encourage Laura to investigate the key she found in her father’s belongings. It looked like a post office box key. Maybe some answers could be found there.
“Mrs. Danforth, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Richard Wilson, your mother’s primary physician. I understand you are concerned about the cost of our facility. I can assure you, our nursing staff is top notch, your mother’s condition has much improved since she came to us four years ago.”
If her condition has improved, I can’t imagine what shape she was in before the accident, thought Laura.
“Dr. Wilson, I don’t know anything about my mother’s accident. Was she alone in the car? Was she the driver? Was anyone else involved? It’s obvious she was severely injured, was my father hurt too?”
“Dear, you know what a vibrant woman your mother was before this tragedy. Glenda Abbott was the life of any party. Rest assured, the staff at Maplewood Manor are working tirelessly to restore her to her former self.”
“Dr. Wilson, I do remember my mother, what little I saw of her. I realize I’m not a medical professional but I know that woman I saw earlier will never be the same one who loved jet-setting around the world. I will make arrangements for her to be transferred to a facility close to my home.”
“I won’t let you do that, we are making progress with Mrs. Abbott; moving her now will be a setback to her recovery. I don’t see anywhere in her records that she has a daughter. I believe it will require a court order to move her.”
Molly noted Dr. Wilson avoided answering questions about Mrs. Abbott’s accident or her condition.
“Thank you for your time, Dr. Wilson,” said Alec. “My attorney will be in touch.”
He pulled the chair out for Laura and the three of them walked out the door.
“What is that guy up to?” said Alec. “What do you think, Molly?”
“I think our next stop should be the newspaper office for a look at their files. We could search online but I know these small-town newspapers, they are usually happy to share information that wasn’t printed. Their memories of local events can be helpful. We will also check the police report but let’s try the newspaper office first.”
Chapter Four
Cassandra Cross walked through the suite she and Michael Callahan were given. She imagined how wonderful it would be if she was staying here with someone who didn’t make her skin crawl. Although Cassie is tall, she feels small when standing next to Mike. His height makes him more intimidating than his deep voice and condescending gaze. Cassie thought she detected a slight smile when he greeted the innkeeper, Jenny, but that quickly faded when he glanced in Cassie’s direction.
Cassie changed into a floral print silk blouse and slacks. She slipped into a pair of high-heeled mule sandals hoping to look taller and feel less intimidated by Mike.
“What are you wearing?” came the unmistakable curt voice of her partner.
“What is wrong with what I’m wearing?” Cassie asked.
“You look like you spend a fortune on clothes, you will ruin our cover.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. Why do you care what I wear? It has nothing to do with you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, little girl. We are supposed to be a working-class couple on vacation. You look like you should be in a swank hotel on the French Riviera.”
“Look, buster, I’m not a little girl, don’t call me that again. What I’m wearing is perfectly acceptable. Just because the character I’m playing married a Neanderthal, doesn’t mean she must dress the part of the obedient little woman.”
Mike winced; did she really think he was a Neanderthal? It was true, he didn’t enjoy being paired with a beauty queen but he didn’t think his behavior was that bad. He didn’t care that she is a woman, he’d worked with women before. This one was different; he’d read her record. Cassandra Cross was born into a wealthy, prominent family on the east coast. He pictured her playing tennis at the country club and being waited on by servants all her life. Mike had nothing against wealthy people if they kept their distance. Working with a rich kid with a body to die for wasn’t what he’d had in mind.
“I guess the outfit’s all right. I hope these country bumpkins can’t tell you spent a hundred bucks on that necklace alone.”
It was five times that amount but Cassie wasn’t about to tell him that.
“Jenny Caldwell didn’t seem to be a country bumpkin. Michael Callahan, I believe you are a snob,” Cassie said trying not to snicker.
Mike pretended not to hear her and charted their plan.
“Unfortunately, the daughter isn’t in town and we can’t see what she’s up to. Perhaps collecting the jewelry daddy stole and selling it as we speak.”
“Mike, you are jumping to conclusions. Our sources tell us the daughter was estranged from her parents. She didn’t know about her mother’s accident. Maybe Clinton Abbott wanted to see his only child get married. Whatever the rift between them, it could be he still loved his daughter.”
“Old Clint was a buffoon, he got conned into separating an old rich lady from her expensive jewelry to pay the bills to keep his wife in that fancy nursing home. Did you see that place, it’s like a luxury hotel? You know all about luxury hotels.”
“Oh yes, my childhood was spent going from one luxury hotel to another. That is when I wasn’t rolling in money on the playground. Look, Mike, it’s obvious we are not well suited as partners but if we don’t work together, we won’t locate the jewelry and return it to its owner. Shall we call a truce until this gig is over and then we will never see each other again?”
“Sounds good,” Mike replied, but he didn’t think he sounded convincing. Cassandra Cross, with her long golden hair and gorgeous hazel eyes, was growing on him. The outfit she was wearing did wonders for her trim figure that curved in all the right places. Maybe it wasn’t the price tag on the clothes that made them look so good but the person wearing them. Mike shook the thoughts out his head and concentrated on a plan.
As tourists, it wouldn’t be unusual for them to stroll down the main street. There were plenty of shops and restaurants for them to explore and ask questions. Mike’s cover was that he was an artist looking for a place to call home. Cassie would pose as a writer of children’s books. It wasn’t a total fabrication, Cassie wrote several books under her pseudonym, Matilda Crump.
The w
eather cooperated with them as they strolled Main Street. The first stop was the Delaney Art Gallery were Joanna Garretson greeted them.
“Good morning, welcome to Delaney Art Gallery. Alec Delaney is the owner and talented impressionist but there are other local artists whose works are displayed. Feel free to browse, I’ll be happy to answer questions.”
Cassie thanked Joanna and wandered through the gallery. She knew when she saw Alec’s work he was a talented artist. She vowed when this gig was over she would be back to purchase one or two of his paintings. Mike, however, knew nothing about art and cared less. The walls in his apartment back home held nothing except a coat of paint. He lived modestly and didn’t see the need for any adornment.
“Mike,” Cassie whispered, “you are supposed to be an artist. Show interest in these paintings. Ask the girl a question.”
“What would I say? Are these prices for real? Why would anyone pay eight hundred dollars for this stuff?”
“Oh, brother, never mind, I’ll do the talking.”
“Joanna, Mr. Delaney is a talented artist. He knows how to bring his subject to life. His paintings are moving; is the woman in them you?”
“No, his wife, Laura, is his favorite model. They were married this weekend after many years apart. It was a beautiful ceremony marred by the murder of Laura’s father during the reception.”
“Jenny Caldwell told us about a man’s death; she didn’t say he was the bride’s father. That is terrible.”
“Yes, Laura hadn’t seen him in several years. I can’t imagine my parents ignoring me the way Laura’s did. Laura and Alec are in her hometown trying to find out what happened to her mother. It’s a sad story.”
Murder at Coventry Hill Inn Page 2
