Scones and Scofflaws Read online

  Anna hung up her damp sweater and sank into a chair at the table near the fireplace as Felicia bustled about the kitchen preparing tea and cookies.

  “So,” Felicia said as she carried her tray to the table and joined Anna. “What were you doing wandering around in the rain?”

  Anna laughed. “Delivering those.” She pointed to the box of brochures. “Asking businesses to display them for their customers. Just in case any want to come back to Cape May sometime.”

  “Just in case?” Felicia snorted. “Who wouldn’t want to come back?”

  Anna grinned as she sipped her tea. Then her smile faded. “People might not want to come back to Climbing Rose Cottage, though. Once they hear about George Hedley.”

  Felicia nodded. “I know, honey. I’m so sorry. Tell me, you and Sammy seemed pretty excited about doing some research of your own. Have you found anything new?”

  “I haven’t checked in with Sammy, yet. She was going to see what she could find about George.” Anna looked down at the table as she shook her head. “I did find out a little bit more about Richard Gormley, but managed to antagonize people in the process.”

  “Oh dear, what happened?”

  Anna told Felicia about her conversation with the Ahavas. “I thought they weren’t even going to help me by taking my brochures,” she concluded. “I guess they’re just mad at me for poking my nose into other people’s business.”

  Felicia leaned forward to look Anna in the eyes as she smiled kindly. “Well, what did you expect? You are poking your nose in.”

  “Yes, but into my business, remember? I’m doing this to save my business, not hurt anyone else.”

  Felicia raised one hand in a shrug. “True. And if you do help the police find out what really happened to George, you’ll be helping more than just your business. You could end up helping the whole town.”

  “Who’s helping the town?” The question came from the doorway and Anna turned in surprise.

  “Anna, this is my friend Kathy. Kathy, Anna McGregor. She’s Louise Gannet’s niece. She runs Climbing Rose Cottage now.” Felicia’s eyes lit up as she introduced Kathy.

  Kathy grabbed a mug and joined them at the table, dropping a slice of lemon into her cup before adding the tea. “Nice to meet you.” She grinned at Anna and slid forward in her chair until her legs straddled it, her elbows resting heavily on the table. “Now, how are you helping the town?”

  Felicia laughed. “You heard about George Hedley dying.”

  “Of course.” Kathy nodded brusquely and blew on her tea, furrowing the already deep lines around her mouth and crinkling the skin around her eyes. She looked about the same age as Felicia, with similar weather-beaten skin and short hair, though her hair was still chestnut brown as opposed to Felicia’s gray.

  “Well, Anna is hoping to find some information about how George might have died. To help the police.”

  “Huh.” Kathy replied, but added nothing more.

  Felicia shared a look with Kathy and nodded, then turned back to Anna. “Now you do remember what I said about Evan Burley, don’t you? You must trust him. He’s a good man and a good police officer. He’ll do the right thing.”

  Kathy nodded. “Definitely don’t do anything to get in his way, though. He won’t appreciate that.”

  Anna grinned at the idea of big, comforting Evan ever acting angry. “That’s hard to picture.”

  Both older women laughed. “We’ve known Evan for years, haven’t we Kath? He can get annoyed, trust us.”

  Anna thought about this. She did trust Evan, no question. But he wasn’t in charge of the investigation. “How about the detective in charge, Detective Walsh. Do you know anything about him?”

  Felicia wrinkled her forehead and shook her head. “Not me, Kath?”

  Kathy nodded as she took another sip of tea. “I know him. Sort of. He’s in the same rowing club as me, but I wouldn’t say we’re friends. There were some rumors when he first moved here.” She shook her head. “But we’re not going to start gossiping about him, are we?”

  Felicia grimaced and raised her eyebrows. “My, my. No, I suppose we’re not.”

  Anna ignored the admonition. “What rumors? I mean, I get it’s just gossip, but seriously — what?”

  Kathy rolled her eyes and took another sip of tea. “I don’t know the details and I wouldn’t say if I did. Just that something happened in his last position and he moved here to get away from it.”

  Anna could certainly relate to that. If people were gossiping about her past, they could say exactly the same thing.

  “How about Paul Murphy,” Anna asked Kathy. “Do you know him?”

  Kathy sipped her tea as she thought about it. Finally, she said. “I believe he’s related to Vivienne Arnold, isn’t he?” She turned to Felicia.

  “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten. Yes, I think they’re cousins,” she replied.

  “Vivienne Arnold?” Anna asked, her curiosity piqued. “Is she any relation to Luke Arnold?”

  “That’s right, yes.” Kathy nodded. “Her son is Luke Arnold.”

  “Who took over his father’s construction company”—Felicia raised an eyebrow at Anna— “and is now working on Climbing Rose Cottage, I heard.”

  Anna’s lips formed a thin straight line. “Word sure does get around in this town.”

  Felicia smiled and raised her mug in a sort of toast before taking another sip.

  The three women sat silently for a moment, drinking tea and munching on cookies, each lost in her own thoughts. Anna ran through what she knew about George Hedley, Richard Gormley, Paul Murphy and even Evan Burley. Their faces swam about in her head until she finally put her tea down and took a deep breath, glancing out the window as she did so.

  “The rain has stopped. Finally. Thank you, both, so much for this. I needed it.” She grabbed her sweater from the chair by the fire. It was warm and dry and she felt comforted wrapping herself in it once more.

  “You’re welcome here any time, Anna. Good luck with your endeavors.” Felicia waved toward the brochures. “And of course, your other endeavors.” She added with a wink.

  “But don’t do anything to get in the way of the police doing their job,” Kathy added sternly.

  “Of course not,” Anna replied brightly. “But I can still look into things, right? Learn more about the people in this town?”

  Felicia came over and gave her a hug, which surprised her. She hugged Felicia back. “Thank you, again. I needed that.”

  Felicia patted her once more on the back before letting her go. “Satisfy your curiosity if you must, Anna, but don’t get yourself into any more trouble with your neighbors than you’re already in. You never know when you’ll need them on your side.”

  22

  The pause in the drizzle didn’t last long. Anna was once again damp and chilly by the time she dragged herself to the last shop on the street. She had posted all her flyers and was almost out of brochures. She pulled the last few from their damp cardboard box, tossed the box into a nearby recycling bin and tucked them under her sweater to keep them dry. With her hands free, she pulled open the door of the shop on the end of the street, one she hadn’t had a chance to visit yet in her brief time in Cape May.

  The shop was dark but warm, a small electric heater tucked behind the counter coughing out heat. The sign outside said Magic Shop, but the store seemed to offer so much more. She saw figurines of wizards and dragons, board games and puzzles, books and even some foodstuffs. She walked along one bookshelf, browsing the titles. The books ran the gamut. Some offered recipes and histories of natural healing, how to use gems and how to meditate.

  Anna picked up a book and flipped through it, curious. She recognized recipes for remedies she’d seen used in some of the communities she’d studied in the city. Remedies passed down through generations and carried across borders as people migrated, looking for better lives for themselves and their children. Farther along the shelf however, the titles turned to darke
r topics: dark magic, casting spells, even making potions. She laughed to herself, but shuddered nonetheless. Creepy material for such a gray day.

  Shelves running along the far wall held piles of dried herbs in plastic bags and a variety of oils in small tubes. She picked up a few to sniff. Home remedies could be harmless, she knew, but they could just as easily be deadly. She wasn’t surprised to see vials of CBD oil and liquid nicotine. The more mysterious herbs might attract the interest of a few shoppers, but the real money was no doubt made with these more popular potions.

  She returned to the front counter where a young woman with jet-black hair and a nose ring sat playing on her phone.

  “Hi, I’m Anna McGregor. I own the Climbing Rose Cottage,” Anna started, as always, by introducing herself. “I’m looking for the manager.”

  The woman glanced up from her phone but kept tapping it as she spoke. “Sure. What I can do for you?”

  “You’re the manager?” Anna tried not to act surprised, but knew she’d failed.

  The woman finally put her phone down and turned to face Anna directly. Anna realized she was quite pretty, her small nose turning up at the end over a round mouth, her dark eyes made even darker by lines of black that circled them then led off to the sides of her face in the style of an Egyptian goddess. “Not quite,” she said. “I’m the co-owner.”

  Anna felt the blood rush to her face in her embarrassment and tried to laugh it off. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I know how it is when people think I’m too young to run a B&B.”

  Thankfully, the young woman smiled, too. “No worries, I get it all the time. And I am co-owner, I don’t run this place by myself. I work here with my uncle. I’m Brooke.”

  “Brooke, it’s great to meet you. I’m sorry I haven’t been in here before now, because now I’m here to ask for your help.” Anna launched into an explanation of how she liked to keep brochures advertising Climbing Rose Cottage at the registers of local stores. “I know a lot of your customers are already staying in other hotels, but I also know that once they’ve spent some time in Cape May, they’ll want to come back. And they’ll need a place to stay when they do.”

  “Sure, happy to help.” Brooke gestured to a low shelf just below the register, the kind of place where shoppers could browse for impulse items while paying for their main purchase.

  Anna thanked her and stepped toward the shelf, seeing a gap where she could just fit her brochures in. She simply had to move that pile of flyers for a club over slightly; there was plenty of room for both.

  She leaned toward the flyers and her hand froze. They were emblazoned with a red and black image. An image she recognized immediately.

  Her hand shook as her mind flew back to that horrific moment. Kneeling down next to George. Digging frantically through his pockets hoping to find the one thing that could save him. Knowing, even as she did it, that it was too late for him.

  She could still see, vividly, the items she’d pulled from his pockets and dropped onto the floor. That image — everything from that morning — was imprinted permanently on her brain. Anna’s breath came faster as she saw in her mind the matchbook. The matchbook with the deep-red and black image. Lying on her dining room carpet, tossed down with the pens and crumpled tissues.

  “Are you okay?” Brooke’s voice cut into her thoughts and she spun around, suddenly confused. “Seriously, are you okay?”

  Brooke walked out from behind the register, came over and put a hand on Anna’s shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Ha!” Anna let out a laugh with the breath she’d been holding. “Nothing that dramatic. But …” She pointed to the flyer. “What is that an advertisement for?”

  Brooke narrowed her eyes. “You could pick one up, you know? And read it?”

  “Right, right,” Anna replied, but even as she said it she took a step back.

  “All right, come over here and sit down,” Brooke said, directing Anna to a chair behind the register. “Is that better?” Her words were kind but Anna saw a hint of steel in her eyes. And anger.

  “I’m sorry, really. I’m sure it’s not good for business to have someone freaking out in your store.”

  Brooke looked around at the empty store. “What business? But I can see that you’re upset about the Pink Passion Club. What’s wrong with you? Why do you care what people do with their time?”

  “The what?” Anna asked, thoroughly confused. She had no idea what she’d done to upset Brooke and no idea what she was talking about.

  Brooke raised a pierced eyebrow. “So you don’t know about it?”

  “Is that what the flyer is for?” Anna asked, confused.

  “Yeah…” Brooke took a step back and looked at Anna. “Are you one of those church-going types?”

  “Church-going?” Anna thought guiltily that it had been far too long since she’d attended church. “Sure, I mean, sometimes. Why?”

  Brooke shook her head and walked back to her register. “Forget it. Just … yeah, that flyer is for the Pink Passion Club. Down off Sunset Boulevard. You may not have noticed it before, it’s to the right just after the honey farm.”

  “Have you been there?”

  This time Brooke grinned at her. “You really haven’t heard of it?” She laughed. “Yeah, I’ve been there. They’ve got a great happy-hour deal, with live music. Can’t beat it, right?” She glanced at her watch. “Too bad I’m open until eight tonight.”

  Anna took a breath and stood up. “Thank you so much for your kindness. Again, I’m sorry I lost it for a minute there. That image on the flyer… it just reminded me of something that scared me. That’s all.”

  “This image?” Brooke asked, holding up the flyer. She frowned as she looked at the picture than back at Anna. “Really? Most people don’t even recognize it for what it is.”

  “Oh. Right.” Anna wasn’t sure how to answer. She had no idea what it was supposed to be. Only where she had seen it last. “Anyway, thanks again. And for taking my brochures, too. I’ll see you around.”

  Anna could feel Brooke’s eyes on her as she left the shop. She kept walking around the corner until she was sure she was out of view, then she leaned back against the brick wall and took another breath.

  Whatever that club was, it had some connection to George. She pulled out her phone and dialed.

  “Hey Anna, what’s baking?”

  She smiled when she heard Sammy’s friendly greeting. “Not you, I hope.” They both laughed at their old joke. “Listen, what are you doing tonight?”

  “Tonight?” Sammy paused. “Let’s see, sterilizing counters, closing out the cash register, taking stock. A thrilling Friday night for me.”

  “Sammy, I just saw something. It’s kind of weird.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “There was a matchbook. In George’s pocket.”

  “In George’s pocket?” Sammy asked incredulously. “When did you go through George’s pockets?”

  Anna shuddered at the memory, pushing it out of her mind. “Never mind, the point is I saw this matchbook. And I just found out where it’s from.”

  “I thought it was from George’s pocket.”

  “Stop it, you know what I mean,” Anna grumbled. “It’s from a club. The Pink Passion Club. Have you ever heard of it?”

  “Nope,” Sammy answered and Anna could hear the frown in her voice. “Why? Is it important?”

  “I don’t know.” Anna slumped back against the wall. “It just brought back memories. Of George… dead.”

  “Oh, honey, then why are we talking about it? Do you want to get together tonight? I could come over, we could watch a movie. Sound good?”

  Anna considered it. That did sound good. Something to take her mind off her problems. To get the image of George, dead at her dining room table, off her mind. She shook her head.

  “How about we go out? I just heard about a place that has a great happy hour.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Sammy responded kno
wingly. “Why do I think you’re about to suggest the Pink Passion Club?”

  Anna grinned. “Because you know me so well. I’ll meet you there.”

  23

  Anna stopped her bike when she reached the gravel parking lot and glanced around. This must be the place, though it had taken her a while to find the sign, hidden as it was under a low-hanging awning.

  She was early for her date with Sammy. Finding a babysitter for Eoin had been easier than she’d anticipated. Felicia was full of suggestions of local teenagers eager to offer their services, and it hadn’t taken long to find one who was available on such short notice. She allowed herself a pang of remorse as she pictured Eoin’s little face looking up at her as she left him with the young man. He clearly wanted to go with her, and she hated the idea of doing anything that might blunt his feelings toward her. They’d already spent two hours apart earlier today. But this was not a place where he could join her.

  The salmon-colored, single-story building blended into the neighborhood. It was one of a handful of stores along the street that backed into a residential area. A beauty parlor in a miniature version of a classic Victorian mansion, a honey farm, the Pink Passion club, a wicker store — each stood independently, and each added to the charm and small-town feel of the street.

  But this was the only building whose windows were covered from the inside with deep-pink curtains, whose sign was hung as if intentionally to obscure it, and from which emanated the sounds of a Dolly Parton song.

  Anna thought about going in, but decided she’d better wait for Sammy. She didn’t know anything about this club, and while she didn’t think any bar in Cape May could be dangerous, she felt a chill going up her spine as she thought about the events that had brought her here. She stepped back onto the sidewalk and leaned against a low fence, letting her mind roam over what she’d learned so far and how much she still didn’t know.