Scones and Scofflaws Read online

  “Oh, right.” the young man stood and reached across to a shelf behind him. “Sure. Actually”—his brow puckered as he looked back at them—“Actually, it says right here.” He held out a copy of The Cape May Standard.

  Anna took it, grimacing with embarrassment. “Right, sorry, I should have noticed that.”

  “So what is this place?” Sammy asked, looking around the sparse office then back at the young man. “What do you do here?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “What do we do? I thought you said you were friends of George?”

  “I said I didn’t know him well,” Anna pointed out. “And only on a social basis.”

  “Social?” Now the young man looked entirely unconvinced. “Look, I don’t know who you are—”

  Whatever he was about to say was cut off. A man walked into the reception area from a back room, talking as he entered. “Charles, I need those 2017 reports, the ones with—”

  This time it was Charles' turn to cut him off. “Mr. Murphy, these women are here asking about Mr. Hedley.”

  Mr. Murphy looked up, noticing Anna and Sammy for the first time. “Oh. Asking about what?” He shook his head as he pulled his glasses off his face. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  He glanced back and forth between the two women, his eyes dark in a chiseled face. He wore a white button-down shirt, open at the neck, and sported a short mop of curly hair that had once been brown but was now tinged with gray.

  Anna put a hand out and approached the man. “Mr. Murphy, my name is Anna McGregor. I knew George very briefly, and I was simply hoping to learn a little bit more about him.”

  “And about his funeral arrangements,” Sammy added, giving Anna a meaningful glance.

  “Right, that too.” Anna said.

  “I see.” He looked over at Charles who just raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Come through, then.”

  Anna, Sammy and Eoin followed him back to his office, which was no more decorative than the front room. A row of worn metal filing cabinets lined one wall. A lone desk sat facing them. No chairs were provided for visitors.

  “Please, sorry,” Mr. Murphy mumbled as he pulled open a closet door and produced three folding chairs, lifting them easily with one hand. “I don’t usually have clients here.” He came toward them to set up the chairs so they were facing the desk. As he moved, his shirt strained at times against the muscles of his shoulders and back, suggesting a man who worked at maintaining his physique. He moved back behind his desk and took a seat, inviting them to do the same.

  “And what is it that you do here, Mr. Murphy?”

  “Please, call me Paul,” he responded. “Well, we’re import/export. You must know that, if you know George. George and I are — were — partners.”

  Anna tried not to show her surprise. “What do you import and export?” she asked.

  Paul raised both hands and gave an expansive gesture. “Whatever is needed. Mostly furniture, works of art, things that are ordered by stores locally.”

  “Locally here in Cape May?” Anna asked.

  “Makes sense,” Sammy said.

  “Here or in Trenton, where our other offices are.” As he spoke, Paul’s brows lowered and his eyes narrowed. “I keep telling you about myself, but I still don’t know who you are.”

  “Mr. Murphy… Paul.” Anna leaned forward in her seat. “As I said, my name is Anna McGregor, and this is my friend Sammy Shields and my cousin Eoin.”

  “Eoin,” Eoin piped up on cue to correct her pronunciation.

  Anna glared at him and continued. “I own Climbing Rose Cottage, the B&B where George… where George was staying. Here in Cape May.”

  “Oh, I see.” Paul’s chair scraped against the tiled floor as he pushed himself back, away from the desk. “But why are you here? I don’t understand.”

  “I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure myself.” Anna smiled at him, trying to put him at ease. “I wish I had known George better. I just feel terrible about what happened, and I’m trying to get a sense of who he was. What he was like. You know?”

  “No, I don’t.” Paul shook his head slowly. “I don’t understand at all. A man dies in your home and you come here asking questions about him.”

  “We’re very sorry to bother you,” Sammy said. “I told Anna she shouldn’t be here. But you must understand, she’s very upset. I’m sure you are, too, losing your partner like this.”

  “Humph.” Paul let out a low laugh. “We weren’t friends, not really, just business partners.”

  “But he did come down here for work, off and on, right?” Anna asked. “When I spoke to him, he seemed to suggest that.”

  “He did, indeed.” Paul leaned back in his chair and the overhead fluorescent lights cast shadows below his taught cheekbones and square chin, making him look almost ghoulish. “Frankly, more than he needed to. Our paperwork is all done on the cloud, our storage units are here and in Trenton. If we need to meet, either just the two of us or with clients, we almost always do it over the phone or video conferencing. I don’t know why he came down here so often.”

  Picturing the grim face of Mrs. Hedley, Anna suspected she might understand. She thought some more about what she knew about the company. “I also know Richard Gormley,” she said.

  “You do?” Paul sounded genuinely surprised.

  Anna nodded. “Yes, he’s been a guest at my B&B as well.”

  “My, my, my, what a small world.” Paul’s words were lighthearted but Anna noticed that his eyes had once again narrowed and his hands gripped the edge of his desk.

  Eoin seemed to respond in kind, leaning forward and gripping the edge of his chair.

  “I’m not very familiar with how you ended up taking over Mr. Gormley’s business, Paul,” Anna said. “Did you simply buy it from him?”

  “Something like that.” Paul spoke through tight lips, his head barely moving. “It was a long time ago.”

  “But I understand Mr. Gormley didn’t really want to sell, isn’t that true?”

  Paul stood. “As I said, it was a long time ago. George and I weren’t even partners yet then, so I fail to see how it could be of interest to you. You have the information you came for now, yes?”

  Anna and Sammy shared a glance as they stood. “Yes, thank you. But isn’t there—”

  “There’s nothing more I can say,” Paul said firmly. He walked across the office and opened the door. The interview was over.

  17

  Anna and Sammy both burst out talking as soon as they’d stepped out of the Varico offices.

  “What do you think that was about?” Anna asked.

  “He was definitely nervous about something,” Sammy said at the same time.

  Both women laughed, then Anna continued. “Definitely. But what?”

  “His whole attitude changed as soon as you mentioned Richard Gormley, didn’t it?”

  “Hello Anna, I’m surprised to see you here. What brings you to these offices?”

  They spun around in surprise to see Evan Burley behind them. They had turned their backs on him when they’d exited, and in their excitement about their interview with Paul Murphy hadn’t even noticed him standing there. Eoin, on the other hand, was already looking up at him, his eyes opened wide and a broad smile on his face.

  Evan smiled back at the boy and put his hand out. Eoin grabbed it, moving to stand closer to the officer, his expression one of pure pleasure.

  “Patrolman Burley… Evan…” Anna stumbled over her words. “Hi. Yes, me too. I mean, I’m surprised to see you here…” she paused, having completely run out of words.

  Sammy stuck a hand out toward Evan and offered her brightest smile. “Sammy Shields. I’m a friend of Anna’s. Nice to meet you.”

  “Right, sorry, Sammy, this is Patrolman Evan Burley. He came to the house when… well, when George died. He was very kind to me.” She smiled at Evan, hoping he’d forget the question he’d asked.

  He didn’t. “I’m glad I could help. Sammy, it�
�s very nice to meet you. So tell me, why are you ladies here?” He glanced down at Eoin. “And what are you doing, young man?”

  Eoin looked at Anna, then looked back at the ground and said nothing.

  “Here?” Anna looked around. “Oh, well we came to buy some cheese.” She helpfully held up the bag she still carried from the cheese shop. Across the street. She winced at her own brazenness.

  “Right,” Sammy chimed in, looking up at Evan through her lashes. “We’re taking the afternoon off. Getting some cheese and visiting a winery. Doing some wine tasting, you know?”

  “Uh-huh.” Evan replied, looking across the street to the cheese shop, then back at them. He raised an eyebrow in a clear question and waited. Anna had to suppress a laugh when Eoin, still holding tightly onto his hero’s hand, mimicked the expression.

  “Right, why are we here, you mean.” Anna nodded, looking at the ground.

  Sammy chewed on her lip and looked down the street to examine the cars she saw there.

  “Look, the truth is… I wanted to… that is….” Anna looked up at Evan.

  “It was me,” Sammy spoke up. “I run a bakery. In West Wildwood. Best cakes around,” she added helpfully. “If you’re ever looking for a bakery, it’s the Wild West Bakery.”

  “Good to know, thank you. Why did you need to come here?” Evan asked.

  “Well, we were at the cheese shop,” Sammy said slowly, clearly trying to think fast. “And I saw the sign and remembered hearing about this company. Varico.” She gestured at the sign above the door. “And thought, maybe I could get some work done.”

  “On your afternoon off,” Evan said.

  “Exactly.” Sammy nodded. “You know how it is. When you run a small business, you’re never really off.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  Anna realized she was grinning like a mad woman and bit her lip.

  “May I ask what your business is with Varico?” Evan asked.

  “Just shipping some orders,” Sammy answered, her eyes open wide. Not blinking.

  Anna giggled and Evan looked at her. He managed to pull his hand free of Eoin’s.

  “Look, ladies. I’m not sure what to make of this. A man has died and we’re still trying to figure out what happened. I suggest you stay away from his businesses, from his family…” he looked pointedly at Anna and she realized with a gulp that Mrs. Hedley must have followed through on her threat to go the police with her accusations.

  “You can’t believe Mrs. Hedley, Evan. You know I didn’t kill George.”

  “I do, I know." He put a strong, comforting hand on her arm. “But I think it’s best for everyone, including you, if you just keep your distance from this for a while. And you, too, I’m afraid.” He turned to Sammy. “I understand you have a business to run, but I’m sure there are other companies you can work with. At least for now.”

  “Right, of course.” Sammy nodded seriously. “Turns out they weren’t able to provide what I need anyway.”

  Even as Sammy spoke, Anna realized that as soon as Evan spoke to Paul Murphy, he’d expose their lie. Oh fudge.

  “Evan,” she said, “would you like to join us at the winery? We have plenty of cheese.” She held the bag up again.

  Evan laughed. “That’s a tempting offer, thanks.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m still on duty, I’m afraid, for another hour.”

  Anna felt Sammy nudge her elbow but refused to look at her friend.

  “It’s just that, well, I want to explain. Really, I mean.” She glanced at Sammy, who was looking at her like she was insane.

  “So you haven’t really explained so far?” Evan gave them a look faking surprise.

  “Oh,” Sammy said, looking down.

  “Look, Anna, Sammy.” Evan looked at them both kindly. “I don’t think you killed anyone, Anna, but you are still a suspect. You need to understand that. Don’t go running around trying to get to know George better, or trying to make yourself feel better. I know this is hard for you, I really do. But this is still a police investigation.”

  “I just thought I could help,” Anna mumbled, looking at the ground.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” Evan asked.

  “Look, you should know that Paul Murphy got all squirrelly as soon as we mentioned Richard Gormley,” Sammy explained.

  “And he’s being cagey about George, too.” Anna added. “There’s something he’s not saying.”

  They both looked up at Evan hopefully. He took a step back, looked out over the parking lot for a moment, then back at Anna. “I can’t make this any clearer, Anna. You must not get involved in a police investigation. If Detective Walsh found out you were talking to people who are involved — not just talking to, but asking them specifically about George…” He let out a breath as he shook his head. “I won’t tell him. This time. But you need to stop.”

  Anna bit her lip and frowned. “Fine. We’ll just go enjoy our wine and cheese. Come on Eoin.”

  She grabbed Eoin’s hand and dragged him back across the street, fuming. When she’d seat-belted the boy into the car, still parked in front of the cheese shop, she glanced back and saw Evan standing there, watching them.

  “That was rough,” Sammy said. “And why did you invite him to join us? I mean, he is cute and all…” Sammy looked out her window to watch Evan as they drove past.

  Anna shook her head. “He makes me so mad. First he says he trusts me, he acts like he wants to help me. Then he tells me I’m a suspect.” She banged her hand against the dashboard. “Ugh!”

  “Okay, okay, calm down. He’s just doing his job.”

  “Exactly!” Anna felt her anger growing and took a few deep breaths. “He is just doing his job. He wants to help me. And by going to Varico and talking to Paul Murphy, I just made myself look even more suspicious.”

  18

  “So why do you think Paul Murphy reacted the way he did when you brought up Richard Gormley’s name?” Sammy asked as she popped a cube of cheese into her mouth.

  “Hmm,” Anna said, thinking. She took a sip of Chardonnay. “Luke said Richard didn’t want to sell his business. It sounded like he was forced to.”

  “How can someone be forced to sell?” Sammy asked. “No way I’d sell my bakery to someone else.”

  “Well, what if you were ready to retire?”

  Sammy screwed her face up in disgust. “I’ll never retire. I love my work.”

  Anna laughed and looked around the winery. They sat in a room off the main tasting floor. Windows lining one wall opened up onto the vineyards beyond to provide a gentle, peaceful backdrop. Definitely what they needed for the conversation they were having.

  Eoin perched on one of the tall stools at the table, one leg dangling in the air, the other folded in half with his foot on the seat of the stool. He sipped his lemonade as his round eyes took in everything around him.

  Plenty of other people had had the same idea and the tables scattered around the room were mostly full. The winery had a good setup here. Visitors entered through the gift shop first, then on to the tasting room. Once they’d found a wine they loved, they could buy a bottle, grab some snacks if they hadn’t brought their own, then settle down at a table to enjoy themselves while admiring the beauty of the vineyard.

  “So let’s just say Richard really didn’t want to sell. Somehow George forced him to.” Anna considered this, then shook her head. “But that brings us back to the same questions. How’d he force him to sell? And since Richard did sell, what does that have to do with George being dead?”

  Sammy shrugged. “Maybe Richard killed him. Out of revenge. For stealing his business.”

  Anna took another sip of wine, considering this. “Makes sense, actually. He must have really hated George.”

  “Or Paul Murphy, don’t forget him.” Sammy raised a finger as she spoke.

  “He was not a nice man,” Eoin said, nodding. “He seemed angry.”

  “He did get angry when we mentioned Richard, didn’t he?”
Anna patted Eoin’s arm. “Or maybe things weren’t going well with the business. You hear about business partners falling out. Maybe he really wanted George out of the way.”

  “Maybe.” Sammy chewed on another chunk of cheese. “But how? And think about it, Richard had plenty of opportunity.” Sammy’s voice rose with excitement as she warmed to her idea. “He was right there. He could have poisoned George.”

  A few faces turned in their direction and Anna shushed her, laughing. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Sorry. But think about it. Who else was in the house when George died?”

  Anna pictured her other guests. One thought of the terror on Maryanne’s face when she’d seen George, was enough to know that she and Jim were not involved. And she knew she hadn’t done it.

  “You’re right. The Gormleys were the only other people in the house.”

  “Ooh.” Sammy laughed again. “Maybe Mrs. Gormley did it, to get revenge for her husband.”

  Now both women were laughing, the thought of elderly Mrs. Gormley sneaking around the house poisoning people too much to bear.

  “Ladies.”

  They both jumped with surprise at the interruption.

  “Felicia.” Anna smiled at the librarian. “What are you doing here?”

  “Doing here?” She looked around and laughed. “Even librarians get to enjoy themselves sometimes, Anna. Eoin, good to see you again. Hi.” She put a hand out toward Sammy. “Felicia Keane. I was a friend of Louise Gannet.”

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. Felicia, this is my best friend Sammy.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Sammy said as she shook Felicia’s hand. “I loved Aunt Louise almost as much as Anna did. She was always kind to me when I came down to visit.”

  The older woman acknowledged the memory with a nod, then looked over their table. “I see you’re well supplied.” She picked up the bottle of wine and examined it. “Good choice. Their Chardonnay is their best wine, in my opinion. Though, Eoin, I think you made a very wise decision with the lemonade.”

  The boy grinned and took another sip, then reach into his pocket to pull out his notebook and pencil. He sat poised, his eyes moving back and forth between the women, as if ready to take notes at a meeting.