Scones and Scofflaws Read online

  Sammy rolled her eyes, let out a deep breath, and stood. “Fine. I’m coming with you.”

  Anna pulled open the door to the Cape May lifeguard headquarters and stuck her head in. Five men stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her.

  “Can I help you?” The oldest man asked, looking up from a desk where he was working.

  “Hi, sorry to bother you, I’m looking for Jason Enright.”

  One of the men whose back was to her spun around in his chair and glared at her.

  “Oh, hi Jason.” Anna said. “Do you have a minute?”

  “No.” He answered and spun around again.

  “What’s going on Jason?” the older man asked.

  “Yeah, something you want to tell us?” A younger guy poked Jason with his pen as he wiggled his eyebrows. “What have you been up to?”

  The other men, who ranged in age, all laughed. They clearly thought Anna and Jason were having a lover’s tiff. Well, that was fine with her, if they got him to talk to her.

  “Come on, Jason,” she said, pouting. “It’ll just take a minute. You know we need to talk about it.”

  Jason spun around and glared at her again. “Fine. But then this is it, right?”

  Anna shrugged and stepped back outside where Sammy waited with their weapons. She handed Anna her hockey stick and held on to her umbrella.

  “Really? An umbrella?” Anna shook her head as she took her hockey stick. “What were you thinking?”

  “Hey, it’s what I grabbed, okay? You headed out pretty fast.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  The two women jogged back down the steps to the beach to wait for Jason, holding their weapons inconspicuously at their sides.

  Jason came down the steps at a slower rate, taking his time and checking the women out as he walked. He had grabbed a football on his way out of the office and tossed it casually. He seemed less angry today. At least, less red. Anna hoped that was a good thing.

  “I’m here. Talk,” he ordered.

  “You told the cops to talk to Luke. You told them he didn’t have an alibi.”

  “You think I set the cops on Luke?” He laughed. “Well, that’s a hoot.”

  “Why?” Sammy asked, her eyes narrowed.

  “Because you’re the ones who set the cops on me, remember? Not the other way around.”

  “And I apologized for that,” Anna responded through gritted teeth. “But I’m not sorry anymore.” She tightened her grip on her hockey stick and saw Sammy doing the same with her umbrella. They were ready this time. They could defend themselves if they needed to. “I think you did it, Jason. You killed George.”

  Jason threw up his hands as he tossed the football and laughed again. Loudly. “Why on God’s green Earth would I kill George Hedley?”

  “So many reasons. To keep your secret? Or because you were doing a favor for Richard?” Anna realized she sounded like she was fishing, so changed tack. “But you definitely set the cops on Luke.”

  Jason grinned. “Yeah, I did that.” He tossed the football in the air a few more times. “So?”

  “So, did you kill George? You never said you didn’t.” Anna pushed.

  Jason threw the football up one more time, then shook his head. “I didn’t do it.”

  “Why should we believe you?” Sammy asked.

  Jason shrugged. “No reason at all. But I have no idea why you should even care.”

  “Because it’s Climbing Rose Cottage, Jason. Don’t you get it? It’s my baby.” Anna glared at him as she stepped closer, now wielding the hockey stick in front of her. “Your actions have threatened my baby.”

  “Whoa.” Jason put his hands up in surrender. “Mama bear. I get it. But I didn’t do it, Anna.” He stepped back and dropped his hands, still gripping the football. He looked her in the eye. “I didn’t do it.”

  Anna felt Sammy step next to her. “Should I hit him with the umbrella?” she asked.

  Anna grinned at the thought. Then remembered what he’d done to the vase. “No. I guess not. He says he didn’t do it. He didn’t kill George.”

  “You believe him?” Sammy asked, wide-eyed, as Jason grinned.

  “Of course not.” Anna answered, not taking her eyes off of Jason. “We’ll come back once we have proof.”

  Keeping their weapons high, the two women backed away from him, farther down the beach. Anna couldn’t help but notice the bemused expression on Jason’s face as they left.

  “Let me know if I can help,” he called out after them.

  They shared a look, turned and ran.

  They made it back to Climbing Rose Cottage, out of breath and trembling.

  Sammy leaned back against the front door and said, “Scofflaw.”

  “Definitely.” Anna agreed, grabbing the ingredients from the kitchen.

  “He must have done it, Sammy. I know it wasn’t Luke,” Anna said a few minutes later, looking at Sammy over her cocktail glass.

  “I know, honey. It’s ridiculous. As if luscious Luke would ever kill George Hedley. It doesn’t make any sense.” Sammy sniffed and drained the last of her drink. She threw herself back onto the sofa. “That sure did help.”

  Anna stood up from the couch and paced around the room. “I don’t know what to do, Sammy. I have so many questions.”

  Sammy raised both hands in an exaggerated gesture. “Did Richard hate George enough to kill him? Do we trust Jason when he says he didn’t do it? Did Paul find a way to slip out on Janet Turner, come over here and spike George’s lotion?”

  “Exactly. And that’s just for starters.” Anna shook her head. “I’m sure there’s something more, some evidence, that we haven’t thought of yet. We just need to take a step back from it all.”

  Anna thought about all the years she’d spent poring over data, trying to figure it out, trying to see the patterns, not just correlations but causes as well. “Whenever I struggled with a thorny problem at school, I’d walk away for a while, you know? Do something completely different. Focus on a different problem or read a book or just do something that redirected me.”

  “And that helped?”

  “Yep.” Anna nodded. “It’s like if I gave my brain a chance to mull things over, I’d think of things I hadn’t before.”

  “Okay. So we’re too close,” Sammy concurred and stood to join Anna. “What can we do that will take our minds off it, enough to let us see things clearly? Watch a movie? Go grab a coffee?”

  Anna slid her eyes toward the darkened doorway that led to Aunt Louise’s rooms. “I know exactly what I need to do.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Sammy asked, her eyes following Anna’s gaze.

  Anna nodded but didn’t move. “It’s been hanging over me for too long, weighing me down. But I can’t do it without you.”

  Sammy moved closer to Anna. “I’m right here.”

  Anna squeezed her hand into fists and walked determinedly to the doorway to Great Aunt Louise’s rooms.

  “Breathe, Anna. You gotta breathe.” She heard Sammy’s voice behind her in the hallway, but her eyes stayed focused on the closed door in front of her. The door that led to Aunt Louise’s bedroom.

  With bravery born of a best friend and a classic cocktail, Anna turned the knob and opened the door.

  44

  The room was neater than she’d expected. The police must have searched here, but unlike in the rest of the house, they seemed to have left things as they found them. Respect for the dead, perhaps? Or at least respect for Louise Gannet.

  Anna heard Sammy step into the room behind her as she crossed to the armoire. The doors stuck a bit and she had to pull harder. They opened with a crack that made Anna jump.

  Inside, Aunt Louise’s clothes were neatly hung and folded. Anna picked up on the odor of the cedar planks she must have used to keep the moths at bay. Glancing over the clothes, she saw shades of green and brown, colors she remembered Aunt Louise always wearing, struggling to find cl
othes that didn’t clash with the bright red hair color she shared with her niece. Anna ran a hand along the hanging shirts, feeling the softness of the silk and cotton.

  “She had good taste.” Sammy said from across the room as she pushed a sash window open. “I remember she always looked beautiful.”

  Anna nodded and felt a lump growing in her throat. She coughed and closed the doors.

  She turned instead to the bookshelf against the next wall, running her eyes along the spines of the books she could see. The shelf wasn’t quite as neat as the rest of the room. Some books lay on their sides or propped above other books. She saw books on history, anthropology, archaeology, biology, but also mysteries, romances, classics and others.

  “She loved to read.” Anna said, remembering Aunt Louise settled into her favorite chair in the lounge, a glass of sherry on the table next to her. “Anything and everything.”

  Her tears returned, but she didn’t bother trying to stop them. She felt drops running down her face, falling onto her sweater and even onto the book she held in her hand. She blinked and returned the book to the shelf. The fresh scents of the garden came in through the open window and she took another deep breath, trying to calm herself.

  “I’ll need to sort through everything,” she said, trying to sound brisk but knowing she sounded more like a little girl. “It would be easier if Luke was here to help.” She sniffed.

  “You won’t be alone,” Sammy told her. “I’ll be here. I’ll pick up some storage tubs and we can label everything.”

  “Thank you,” Anna said. “You really are the best. In the process, I can figure out what to keep and what to give away.” Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch a ceramic figurine, one of several that lined a windowsill. Figures of women from the eighteenth century, in fancy dresses and hairstyles, each no more than three inches tall. In a way, they were beautiful. Not something Anna would typically want to have, but did she really want to give them away when they were clearly important to Aunt Louise?

  “You don’t need to decide right now what to do with things,” Sammy said. “There’s plenty of time for that.”

  Anna sat down on the big, soft bed, almost falling into it. She put her hands behind her to sit up and ran them along the satin bedspread. A group of picture frames huddled together on the nightstand. Anna picked them up, one by one. With each image of herself, her family, her parents, she felt more tears come. She stood and resumed her exploration of the room.

  In the low chest she found drawers full of clothes, but also linens and lace doilies, fluffy cotton towels and delicate silk scarves.

  These were just things, she told herself, looking back around the room. Things that may have mattered to Aunt Louise but didn’t make her who she was. They were remnants of Louise’s past. They all looked pristine, unused. As if Aunt Louise had been saving them for a special occasion. A special occasion that never came.

  “To be honest, it’s all a little spooky, don’t you think?” Anna whispered.

  “Are you talking about Aunt Louise’s things? Or the fact that you’re on the trail of a murderer?”

  Anna winced. “Probably the latter.” She spun around to face Sammy. “It’s true. I am scared about the murder. And that makes me mad. Why should I be scared, in my own home?”

  Sammy shrugged. “You shouldn’t be. But I can see why you are. What’s to stop you from being the next victim?”

  “Thanks so much for that.” Anna grimaced. “But you’re right. Evan said Detective Walsh wasn’t likely to pay any attention to me or my ideas. They’re still interviewing Luke, and meanwhile the real killer’s on the loose.”

  “And visitors are still afraid to stay at Climbing Rose Cottage,” Sammy reminded her.

  Anna scowled at Sammy. “Yeah, that too. If the police would publicize what they know about the poison — what I found — then at least the rest of the town would know what to watch out for.”

  “And that your B&B isn’t deadly.”

  “Then again, in the process they’d probably announce that Luke did it, so that wouldn’t help.”

  Anna turned back to the dainty items in the last drawer she’d opened. Doilies, lace tablecloths and napkins. She could picture Aunt Louise talking about her travels through eastern Europe and knew these were items she’d picked up there, where all the lace was handmade and dirt cheap. The sound of gulls broke into her reverie. Such a familiar and comforting sound. But they reminded her of something… what was it?

  “Seagulls.” She said, turning slowly to look at Sammy.

  “Yeah, I hear them, too.” Sammy replied, keeping her eyes on the shoes she was sorting through. “There are some good ones in here, you could give some of these away.”

  “Sammy,” Anna said more sharply to get her friend’s attention. “She mentioned the seagull. Don’t you get it?”

  “No.” Sammy looked over at her.

  “She lied. She lied about being here.”

  45

  Anna tapped her phone to end the conversation and looked over at Sammy.

  “That didn’t sound great,” Sammy said. “At least from what I could hear of your end of the conversation.” Sammy had hovered over Anna’s shoulder when she’d first placed the call to Evan, but eventually gave up trying to listen in and now was perched on the window seat in the lounge’s bay window.

  Anna shook her head as she dropped the phone onto the coffee table. “No, not great. I mean, Evan was great, as usual.”

  “Oh, really?” Sammy raised an eyebrow and Anna felt herself blushing.

  “No… I mean… look, Evan listened to my idea, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “Right. And what did he say?”

  “He said he’ll pass this new idea on to Detective Walsh,” Anna answered with a frown.

  “Not promising.”

  “Definitely not.” Anna slumped down on the sofa next to Eoin, who’d been watching them silently. Which, this afternoon, made for a change.

  Eoin had come home full of stories about his day. “Then she explained what the book was about. Then we took turns reading it. Then we played a game where we each got to be a character. Then we drew what we thought the characters looked like. Then —”

  Eoin finally stopped for a breath and Anna jumped in. “I’m so glad you had fun, Eoin. It sounds like a fabulous day, and you clearly like BethAnne.” She laughed, then realized Eoin was staring up at her.

  “What?”

  He grinned, all of his teeth showing. “You said Eoin.”

  “I did?”

  He nodded. “Say it again.”

  “Eoin.”

  Eoin threw his arms around her in a hug, looked up at her, and kept talking. “So after we drew the pictures then she asked the younger kids to read a different part of the book. They were funny. So then we all worked with the younger kids to help them draw their pictures. And then we had lunch and I got to sit next to BethAnne. And then after lunch…”

  He’d gone on like that for another half hour. Now she understood what everyone else had been telling her about the boy. He could talk. A lot. But once the conversation had turned to murder, he’d sat back and listened.

  Sammy looked out the window for a moment, then turned back to her friend. “Okay. Now what?”

  Anna slid down until her head was resting against the back of the sofa, her legs splayed out in front of her. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m sure I’m right.”

  Sammy came over and slumped down on the other side of Eoin. “I believe you. I do. But you have to admit, it’s not exactly firm evidence.”

  “I guess not.” Anna toyed with the fringes of the white cashmere throw that lay over the back of the sofa. “I still don’t understand how anyone could commit murder in this town without everyone knowing about it the second it happened.”

  “Ha!” Sammy laughed. “Don’t forget, some people know how to keep secrets. Just look at Jason.”

  “Ahem,” Eoin coughed. He reached into his pock
et and pulled out his worn notebook, flipping through the pages. “You could use this,” he said, his eyes scanning his pages.

  “Use what?” Anna asked.

  “I have lots of stories here that I heard people talking about. And when one person talks, then someone else says the same thing later, to someone else.”

  “Gossip, you mean?” Anna asked, sitting up in surprise. “You’ve been writing down the gossip you hear in town?”

  Eoin nodded. “My mum always says gossip is dangerous because sometimes it’s all lies, but sometimes it’s true.”

  “Hmm.” Anna slouched down again. “But how can I use gossip?” She cast a suspicious glance at Eoin. “You didn’t overhear anyone talking about George’s death, did you?”

  Eoin shook his head solemnly. “No, Cousin Anna. I was just listening to what you said to Patrolman Evan and thinking about the gossip, and I thought, what if you told people in town about what you found.”

  Anna’s brow furrowed. “Kind of like my own version of a press conference?” She looked down at Eoin. “It could be dangerous, you know.”

  “What could be dangerous?” Sammy asked. “I’m not following.”

  Anna grinned at Eoin and the boy smiled shyly back. “Okay then,” Anna said. “That’s it.”

  Sammy pushed herself up on the sofa. “What’s it? We are not going back to Jason, do you hear me?”

  “No, no”—Anna waved her hands and jumped up from the sofa—“I know exactly what to do.”

  “Wendy!” Anna called out as she, Sammy and Eoin entered the kitchen goods store.

  Wendy turned from where she was helping another customer, offered a quick wave and held up a finger, then went back to her work.

  “Tell me again why buying kitchen supplies is going to help?” Sammy asked quietly, watching the other shoppers warily. “I don’t think they sell poison here, do they?”

  Anna shook her head as she laughed. She picked up a few items, as if looking them over, then replaced them. “I said I want the police to hold a press conference, but there’s something we can do that’s even better. Just try to look casual.”