Scones and Scofflaws Page 6

  Mrs. Hedley took a step toward Anna and Anna inadvertently took a step back. “He died because he was here. If he wasn’t here, he wouldn’t have died.”

  “But you can’t possibly know that,” Anna exclaimed. “We don’t even know how he died yet.”

  “I know perfectly well that if he was at home with me, I would have been keeping an eye on him.”

  Anna had no trouble believing that. Suddenly, George Hedley’s nervousness made a lot more sense.

  “I would have been the one feeding him,” Mrs. Hedley went on. “He would be eating a healthy breakfast, not some fattening pastry. I would make sure he was doing everything properly. If he choked, I would have taken care of him.”

  Anna tried to imagine the petite Mrs. Hedley wrapping her arms around her much larger husband, trying to squeeze. Oddly, the image worked. Mrs. Hedley was clearly stronger than she looked.

  “Mrs. Hedley”—Anna stood up tall and looked down at the other woman—“I did not kill your husband. I had nothing to do with his death. And you have no way of knowing if he would have died regardless of where he was. I do not appreciate your accusations.”

  “Humph.” Mrs. Hedley took another step toward Anna, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t really care what you appreciate. My husband is dead. I blame you. And I’m not leaving until the police arrest you for what you’ve done.”

  “Ahem. Ladies?”

  Both women jumped and turned toward the sound of Luke’s voice. Anna must not have heard the doorbell over the blood pounding in her ears as she fought her rising anger.

  “Is there any way I can help?” He asked the question lightly, but Anna could see how tense he was, prepared for anything.

  “Luke, we’re okay, thank you. Aren’t we, Mrs. Hedley?” Anna asked the other woman.

  “Who are you, the accomplice?” Mrs. Hedley asked rudely.

  “I’m the handyman,” said Luke, keeping his voice cool and calm. He leaned casually against the wall, but Anna could see the tension in his arms and legs. He was ready to move. “I do work around the house. I heard you two arguing and thought I could help.”

  Anna held up a hand, angry at herself for how relieved she felt to see Luke. She did not need a man to step in and save her. Not from the minute Mrs. Hedley.

  “I believe Mrs. Hedley was just leaving.” She raised an eyebrow toward Mrs. Hedley. “To visit with the police, apparently.”

  Mrs. Hedley’s lips turned down into a tight frown, pulling the skin of her face into an angry mask. “Indeed I will.”

  She nodded once and stalked out of the room, Luke stepping aside to let her pass.

  Anna ran after her, watching as Mrs. Hedley fled silently down the stairs, popped into the lounge to grab George’s suitcase, then left the front door swinging open behind her as she left.

  Anna ran down, slammed the front door shut, locked it and leaned back against it, her breath coming in short, raspy bursts.

  Luke called down from the top of the stairs. “Glad I was here.”

  Anna glared up at him. “How dare you?”

  11

  Luke stared down at Anna, his mouth gaping. “How dare I? What the…” He shook his head in confusion. “I just helped you get out of a tricky situation.”

  Anna stomped up the stairs toward him. “I didn’t need your help. I didn’t ask for your help.”

  Luke put both hands up and backed into the upstairs landing. “I have no idea what you’re worked up about. I thought I was helping.”

  Anna pursed her lips, her chin jutting out, and tried to breathe calmly. She shut her eyes and nodded. “I know you did,” she said, once she’d regained control. “But I was dealing with a guest. I don’t expect you to jump in when I’m working.”

  “A guest?” Luke laughed. “She wasn’t your guest, Anna. And from what I heard, she was accusing you of murder.”

  “Ugh.” Anna rolled her eyes. “I know she was. And it was upsetting. This whole thing is upsetting. But I need to manage this business on my own, without your help. Even when dealing with difficult situations.”

  Luke shook his head, his eyes still wide with confusion. “You’re being…” his voice trailed off.

  “What?” Anna felt her anger rise again. “What am I being? Emotional? Childish? Acting like a woman?”

  “Okay, I’ve had enough. Sorry I tried to help. I won’t do it again.” Luke threw up his hands and stormed to the back stairs. Anna heard him pounding up to the third floor.

  She put both hands on the banister and leaned forward, her head dropping between her shoulders. She let out a shuddering breath.

  She shouldn’t have attacked Luke like that. She knew it. She was angry at Mrs. Hedley and she took it out on Luke. But she hadn’t asked for his help. She hadn’t asked for anyone’s help.

  She also hadn’t asked for her first guest to die at her breakfast table.

  She let herself laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation, then straightened up. Looking down the stairs she saw the full laundry basket still sitting where she’d dropped it. It seemed so long ago.

  She stomped back down the stairs, grunting as she heaved up the basket and made her way back to the guest rooms. She was a small business owner now; she had to be strong. She had to be independent. She had to be able to take care of herself. Luke would just need to accept that.

  12

  An hour later, the banging coming from the third-floor bathroom had subsided. Anna was no expert, but she was pretty sure painting the bathroom didn’t actually require Luke to attack the walls with that much aggression. Hopefully, he’d calmed down a bit now.

  She certainly had.

  An hour spent making beds then revisiting her budget, her marketing plan and her bank account, had forced her to calm down and think rationally. And to realize just how lucky she was to have found Luke. She’d looked into other contractors and knew how much Luke was undercharging her for the work he was doing. She couldn't have gotten this far without him.

  She found him in the bathroom, on his knees setting out the new tiles for the floor. He hadn’t heard her approaching so she tapped lightly on the door frame, peeking in while Eoin waited in the bedroom.

  He looked up and she felt a pang of sorrow when he didn’t flash the quick smile she’d become used to.

  “Luke, I’m really sorry.”

  He frowned, shrugged, put the tile he was holding down into place and stood. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” He’d accepted her apology, but he was acting different. More distant.

  “There’s someone I want you to meet,” she said. She stepped into the bathroom and waved Eoin over. He stopped in the doorway and his forehead furrowed as he looked at Luke.

  “Hello. You have new guests already?” Luke asked.

  “Oh no, this is my cousin from Ireland. He’s come to stay with me for the summer. Eoin, this is Luke. Luke, this is Eoin.”

  Anna didn’t even blink when she heard the small voice pipe up, “Eoin.”

  “Oween?” Luke asked and Anna felt guilty for being relieved she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t pronounce Eoin.

  “What are you doing?” Eoin asked, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

  Luke kneeled down next to him. “I’m placing tile. See, it’s like a puzzle.”

  Eoin kneeled down, too, his head only two feet above the floor. He peered at the tiles and nodded. “I see. How do you get them to stay?”

  Anna laughed and felt herself relax as Luke launched into an explanation of grout and how tiling worked. Eoin listened intently to every word. Anna got the impression that as of tomorrow, Eoin would be able to tile a bathroom all on his own.

  “Thank you for teaching me that,” Eoin said once the lesson had ended. He put out a hand and Luke shook it firmly.

  “My pleasure young man. You’re a good student. Drop by any time you want to see what I’m working on.”

  Eoin beamed at the compliment, glanced shyly up at Anna, then scurried out of the room.

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nbsp; Anna watched him go with a sad shake of her head. “I don’t know why he won’t talk to me like that.” She let out a breath, then remembered why she’d really come looking for Luke.

  “Look, the thing is—”

  He cut her off. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You hired me to do work around the house, that’s all.”

  “I assume you know what happened here.”

  “Yeah, I heard. I stopped by yesterday, but the police had the whole place cordoned off. Didn’t let me in. Even though I need to be here to get my job done. I guess you’re right.” He shrugged again. “I’m not that important for this business. It’s up to you how you want to manage things.”

  “No, that’s not it at all.” Anna sank onto the side of the tub, letting her hands hang down between her knees. “Please, let me explain. I feel really bad.”

  Luke glanced over at her and Anna saw a spark of light in his eyes that reassured her. “The thing is, I just got out of a long relationship. To say it ended badly is an understatement.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Luke’s voice made it clear he really meant it and Anna’s spirits lifted. Then he continued, “But that doesn’t explain why you reacted the way you did, just from my trying to help.”

  “I know.” She chewed on her lip, looking around the room, thinking about how she could explain this to someone who wasn’t there, who didn’t understand. “He stole my work.”

  “He stole it?” Luke looked confused. “Like, he stole something you made?”

  “No.” Anna shook her head. “My research. He used my research and took credit for it.”

  Luke leaned back against the doorjamb, watching her. “What kind of research did you do?”

  “Medical anthropology,” Anna said. “I’m getting my PhD. I’m pretty darn close, actually. Just have to finish my dissertation. But when he took credit for my work… I guess I kind of flipped out.”

  Now Luke was grinning. “You? Flip out? Nah.”

  Anna laughed at the sarcasm in his tone. She deserved that. “What can I say? I got really angry and said some things I shouldn’t. First to him—”

  “Sounds like he deserved having some things said to him.”

  “Yes,” she said tentatively. “But then I said some things in anger to the other faculty at the school. Not only did he publish my research as his own, but they believed him when he denied it.”

  Luke’s forehead furrowed as he thought. Anna could almost see his mind working behind his green eyes. “Didn’t you have any way to prove it? To prove that you’d done the work, I mean? I gotta admit, I don’t know what kind of research a medical anthropologist does.”

  “Yeah.” Anna nodded. “Kind of. They formed a board to look into the charge and I gave them all of my data, notes and preliminary work. I do research with households in Mexico and in the U.S. about their diet, where they get their food, their medical care, things like that. Making connections between cultural traditions and medicine in Philadelphia and Puebla.”

  “You’re a nutritionist?”

  “No.” Anna grinned. “It’s a little different. I work to explain the causes of poor health in communities, studying how diet and education and medical care and even child care fit together to create medical outcomes. I’m particularly interested in informal networks of health providers, home remedies and indigenous recipes that have been passed down through generations. It all connects as culture, and makes some people healthy and some people unhealthy.”

  “You work with people to find out if something in their community or in their lifestyle is hurting them.”

  “Exactly. I worked with Mexican communities in Philadelphia, tracing the spread of ideas and beliefs as they follow migration patterns. If something is helping them or hurting them, I figure out where that thing fits in, who has control over it, and how to work toward healthier communities.” Of course, there are some things people can’t control, she thought, like if there’s a crazy poisoner running around. She blinked and looked back up at Luke. “I gave them all my notes.” She balled her hands up into fists as she felt her anger rising again. “Honestly, though, they shouldn’t have needed them.”

  “And you told them that. Not in a kind way, I’m guessing.”

  Anna took a deep breath. “They didn’t appreciate it. Told me I needed to take some time to cool off. They made him take time, too. But in his case, they’re just calling it a sabbatical. For me… I don’t really know what it means.”

  “So you came to Cape May?” Luke raised his eyebrows. “Not the reaction I would have expected.” He laughed as he spoke, keeping his tone light.

  Anna laughed with him. “Okay, when you say it out loud it sounds kind of extreme. But remember, Aunt Louise had just died and left me this house. It all kind of happened at the same time.”

  Luke nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I get it.”

  “Really?” Anna asked skeptically.

  Luke half smiled and nodded, looking around the room. “Look, I build things. I don’t do research,” he winked as he spoke. “But I make things. And I know how I would feel if someone took credit for my work. I’d be pissed off.”

  Anna grinned as she stood. “Thank you. I really appreciate you understanding.”

  “But”—Luke held up a work-roughened hand—“that doesn’t mean I would never work with anyone else again. ’Cause that”—he smiled to take the sting out his words—“would be a little crazy.”

  “Hmm.” Anna sank back down onto the tub, looking at the floor. “I don’t know. I was just so excited to have this B&B. To be my own boss. To do something for myself. By myself. You know?” She looked up at him hopefully.

  “Of course I know. Trust me, I get it, I run my own business, too, remember?”

  She nodded.

  “But you hired me to do things you couldn’t do on your own, right? And when you need an electrician, you’ll hire an electrician. Hell, when you needed the cops, you called the cops.”

  Anna felt herself flinch.

  “Sorry, bad example,” Luke said. “But you get my point. This isn’t about you. I work with a lot of small business owners in Cape May. Just because this is your business doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself, on your own.”

  She sighed. “You’re right.”

  “And Anna”—he leaned forward so he could look her in the eye and she felt herself flush at his closeness, at his earthy scent of sweat and wood shavings—“it doesn’t get easier. You’re gonna get attached to this place. To what you do. It’s your baby, right? But you gotta remember it’s a business. It’s not personal.”

  Anna thought about the effort, the tears, even occasionally the blood she’d put into the house so far and shook her head. “No way. How could I not take this place personally? I mean, I have to, for the amount of work I put into it.”

  “I get that. But that’s how it works. Just look at Richard Gormley.”

  “What?” Anna looked up at Luke, surprised. “Mr. Gormley who was here?”

  Luke nodded. “Yep. He started a business down here, ended up being pretty successful. But he got bought out. Just a few years ago. I remember how upset he was, because I was doing some work on their house.”

  “I didn’t realize they live in Cape May,” Anna said, confused why the elderly couple would have stayed at Climbing Rose Cottage if they had a house in town.

  “They don’t anymore, obviously. They moved to upstate New York to live with their daughter. But they like to come and visit now and then. I know he still misses the place, he misses his business. But look how happy they are. He made the right choice when he sold Varico.”

  “Varico?” Anna asked, a thought jiggling about in her head.

  Luke nodded. “His business. He didn’t want to sell it, but he did, and it was the right thing to do. Now they’re retired, happy, and with plenty of money to live on and enjoy their old age.”

  Anna laughed. “I’m hardly at retirement age, Luke.”

 
“Okay, I know. I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m just saying, it’s business. Don’t take things so personally.”

  She stood again. “You’re right, of course. Thank you. Now”—she glanced around—“let’s talk about how these tiles get laid out.”

  13

  Anna left Luke to the task of installing the new tile floor and was taking a quick break when the message from Sammy came through. The accompanying text simply said, “I’m coming over.”

  She glanced at Eoin as he ran past her into the kitchen. “Help yourself to the lemonade,” she called out as the kitchen door closed behind him.

  Anna’s first reaction to Sammy’s message was relief. She looked forward to sharing her fears and worries with her friend. But even as she felt herself relax, her eyes skimmed over the local newspaper article Sammy had forwarded to her.

  “… unexplained death … local B&B owner considered suspect… unsafe.” She looked back up at the headline. “Killer B&B in Cape May?”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. Her hand shook and she tossed the phone down onto the chair next to her, then jumped when it rang. She snatched it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Ms. McGregor? This is Jonathan French. I need to cancel our reservation for next week.”

  Anna tried to keep her voice calm. “Cancel? Of course. Will you be rescheduling your trip? I’m happy to revise your reservation to a later date.”

  “No, thank you.” His voice was crisp, firm. “That won’t be necessary.”

  The line went dead.

  Anna slumped down in her chair, holding her head in her hands. How could this be happening? She’d only just opened and she’d worked so hard to get the reservations she had. She couldn’t afford to lose any more. And yet she had a feeling the Frenches wouldn’t be the last to cancel.

  Eoin ran back through the lounge, carrying a large glass of lemonade in both hands. Anna jumped up and took the glass from him. “Let me help you with that. Do you want some cookies?”