Digging Up Daisy, page 14
Edna smiled. “We sure do, and it’s filled with generations of collected books. My family has a long history of readers, so our shelves are filled to the top. It’s fun to pick up some of their private diaries, too.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if sharing something taboo. “We’ve learned all kinds of family secrets that way. Haven’t we, Luke?”
“I prefer the classics, myself,” Luke answered flatly.
“I love the classics, too. Hemingway is my one of favorites,” Becca chimed in.
“Well, we have something in common then, don’t we?” Luke looked at Becca with a new light in his eyes, and the two shared a smile.
Kinsley held back an eye roll while watching the two swoon over each other.
“Speaking of classics, I’m not sure I mentioned it, but Becca is a local real estate agent. She’s just building her client list here in Harborside. I’m sure she’d like to hear more about your lovely home, Edna. Not that you’d ever be willing to sell, but touring homes is right up her alley,” Kinsley added, correcting herself. “What year was this built?”
“Oh, how wonderful, Becca! This home has been in my family for countless generations. I believe it was built in the late 1800s, although you’d never know it to be true, as so many renovations have come over the years.”
“How many bedrooms?” Becca asked.
“It boasts many bedrooms and bathrooms. We have five fireplaces, if you can imagine, one of them in the formal dining room. We also have a breakfast room, walk-in pantry . . . Oh, my dear.” Edna laid a hand to her cheek as if exhausted. “The rooms are endless. Thankfully we have a team of housekeepers, otherwise I’d never be able to keep up. We also have a keeper’s quarters on our property for the staff, which is quite handy.”
“Don’t forget the extensive wine collection in the wine cellar, and you’d be amiss, Grandmother, if you didn’t share the most special place in your home, which is the turret, yes? It most certainly is the favorite room of the house, according to everyone who pays a visit,” Luke added.
“I hope I’m not being too presumptuous, but Becca would love a peek inside the turret if you don’t mind? It’s such a special room, and since real estate is her absolute world, she’d love the opportunity,” Kinsley said. “Wouldn’t you, Bec?”
Becca reached for Kinsley’s arm and sent her an agreeable smile. “If it isn’t too much to ask. Oh, I’d love a peek at it,” she squealed. “Very few people along the cliff walk have one of those! A visit to the turret would be such a treat.”
“Of course! Luke, would you mind taking them on a tour? My sciatica has been acting up a bit the last few weeks, so if you don’t mind I’ll wait downstairs.” Edna looked up at her grandson with a slight cringe regarding her pain. Luke acknowledged with a furrow of his brow.
“How about this—why don’t you all meet me in the formal dining room when you’re through? Dinner should be on the table by then,” Edna said. “We’ll save the library for another visit.” Edna tapped Becca on the arm to see if this would be agreeable, and Becca agreed with a wide grin. It was obvious she was dying to see the space that Kinsley had bragged about earlier.
“Yes, Grandmother, and if your back is bothering you, be sure and get off your feet,” Luke said as he gestured a hand for Kinsley and Becca to follow. “Right this way.”
Kinsley knew the route like the back of her hand, as she’d been inside Edna’s home countless times. She never wearied of a visit to the turret and followed dutifully as they made their way up the wide oak staircase leading from the back of the stately home to an upper floor.
When they reached the second floor, they followed the carpet runner that covered the polished oak floors down a long hallway until they reached the solid, burgundy-stained door. Luke swung it open, and a rounded staircase led them to the octagonal room facing the Atlantic. The windows flooded the room with natural light and Becca gasped the minute she stepped inside the space.
“This is breathtaking!” Becca gushed.
“My favorite room of the house,” Luke admitted. “The best view of Harborside is right here. You can see for miles. I always feel like I’m on the top of the world when I’m in this room.”
The high coffered ceiling made the room feel more expansive than its square footage. Curved nooks of plump royal blue seats lined the back walls.
“It’s amazing,” Kinsley added. “Every time I come up here, I’m awestruck. It really is stunning!”
The three moved closer to the windows and Kinsley took in the sun, not quite ready to set, its rays dancing across the ocean. The jagged coastal rocks along the cliff walk were pounded by the waves that rolled gently onto the private beach beyond that. Breakwater Lighthouse, boats bobbing along the sea, and the marina and private beach were all in the panoramic view. She also could pick out the Blue Lobstah off in the distance but couldn’t make out specific patrons or Pete. They all looked like flies, scattered across the outer deck.
“Listen to this.” Luke reached to crack open a window, and they all took in the rhythmic sound of the sea.
Kinsley breathed deeply, letting the sound soothe her.
“The sound of the waves is so peaceful,” Becca said finally. “That symphony certainly would lull me to sleep! It’s amazing!”
“I used to camp up here as a child when Grandmother would allow it. A rare treat indeed,” Luke admitted. “Speaking of the symphony, if you ever want to travel down to Boston, I have season tickets to the Boston Pops, if that’s something of interest to you.”
Kinsley didn’t get the impression she was part of the invite but piped up just the same. “Have you always had an interest in music, Luke? I didn’t know you were a singer until I heard you were planning to perform at the reunion.” She intentionally left out Daisy’s name in hopes she could prod him without making him feel like he was getting the third degree once again. Hopefully, he’d crack open like a shell.
“Yes, I’ve had singing and piano lessons all my life. Since I was a young child my parents expected me to be cultured.”
“Oh, you play, too?” Becca asked. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the piano,” she said wistfully. “My aunt had a piano when I was growing up, and I only learned how to play ‘Chopsticks,’ ” she added with a chuckle. “A far cry from Beethoven.”
Kinsley was starting to feel like she was a third wheel on a first date. Luke and Becca seemed to be swimming around each other like two fish checking out shiny new scales, and she was a measly sea urchin at the bottom of the sea. She let the feeling pass and decided to take the opportunity they were given to allow Becca to get to know Luke more. Knowledge, after all, was power. She strode over to the telescope in the far corner of the room while the two kept up with their small talk.
Kinsley leaned in to the telescope to chance a peek and was shocked to see the image in front of her. The telescope was zoomed in, not on the south side of the ocean, but on the potato field. Most of the view was blocked by a clump of maple trees and thick wooded pines, but it was evident just the same. The question was . . . Why was the telescope focused on that location in the first place? If Edna’s sciatica was acting up, it was certainly not the homeowner who had made the climb and pointed the telescope in that direction. In Kinsley’s mind, it meant that Luke had been the one in the turret checking out the crime scene. The question was—why?
Chapter 20
Kinsley and Becca strolled along the cliff walk, walking off their four-course meal and enjoying the evening breeze. The orangey-pink sun, the color of a blooming hibiscus, was slowly sinking in the horizon, leaving a glittery path along the waveless sea.
“Was it me? Or did you notice how much Luke seems to be distancing himself from the murder investigation?” Kinsley said as she hugged the sweater tighter around herself. Despite the calm weather, the wind seemed to have a bite to it, as if a hint of things to come.
“I didn’t notice. I was too mesmerized by the gazpacho soup. That was the best meal I think I’ve ever had.”
“It was delicious, wasn’t it?”
“Divine. Remind me to hire a cook when I become rich and famous,” Becca said with a chuckle, shoulder-bumping Kinsley. “Or when I become the top agent this side of Harborside.”
“And one day, you will,” Kinsley answered confidently. “Just remember who your friends are,” she added lightly. “And don’t forget to hire SeaScapes to landscape all of your properties.”
“You know, if it wasn’t rude, I would’ve asked for a doggie bag,” Becca said. “But I didn’t want to push my luck.”
“Edna probably would’ve made sure you left with a hefty portion. She’s a real sweet lady, isn’t she?”
Despite their banter around the meal they’d recently devoured, Kinsley couldn’t keep thoughts of the murder investigation at bay. “The fact that Luke’s saying he only met Daisy on a few occasions, to practice for the reunion, is the opposite of Edna’s account. His grandmother made it sound like he was falling in love with the girl.”
“Maybe so, but wouldn’t you try to distance yourself if you’d been around Daisy, too? Would you want to insert yourself smack-dab in the middle of a murder investigation? I don’t think so.”
“Oh boy,” Kinsley mumbled.
“What?”
“You enjoyed his company tonight, didn’t you?”
“He is rather charming,” Becca admitted with a smile.
Kinsley couldn’t argue the fact. True to Luke’s word, he’d kept all talk of Daisy entirely out of the formal dining room. And he’d also promised Becca a few introductions to prominent members of Harborside who might help with her real estate career. Was he being nice? Or was he just trying to keep their minds off the crime and concentrated on dinner conversation? Was it guilt? Or was he really that protective of his grandmother? All these questions tugged at her mind before Kinsley continued.
“I forgot to tell you; Luke also had a bit of an argument with Stacey. She’s the one I told you about who left the reunion because someone had spilled wine on her dress. Remember, she’s also the one who had her photo taken with Daisy. Do you think there’s a connection? Perhaps she’s in on it?”
“Are you actually saying you think Edna’s grandson is responsible for murder? I’m sorry, but I can’t imagine he’d be so calm after killing someone, like, a week ago. In my opinion, he seemed very relaxed tonight.”
“Maybe it was the wine?” Kinsley suggested. She, too, was feeling a bit tipsy despite the four-course meal. Well, maybe not tipsy, but she was definitely . . . relaxed. Apparently, there was more of an uptick in the alcohol content in those expensive wine bottles that she’d never had the chance to sample until now.
“Could be. Speaking of that, I wish I hadn’t declined the glass of wine, but I really thought I would hear back from a potential listing client. It’s getting late, though, so I guess I should’ve toasted, ’cause it doesn’t look like they’re planning on getting back to me tonight.” Becca frowned. “They promised they’d call with their final decision after discussing the pros and cons of moving over dinner.”
“We could still walk over to the Blue Lobstah for a drink. I’m up for that.”
Just as the words were out of Kinsley’s mouth, Becca’s phone rang in her purse. Her friend never missed a phone call, as every call was an opportunity to show, or list, a home. She picked it up on the second ring. Kinsley crossed her fingers and held them in the air in hopes this was the call Becca had been anticipating.
“Yeah, we’ll be right there,” Becca said. Instead of happiness, concern riddled her friend’s face and her tone sent alarm bells ringing through Kinsley.
“That didn’t sound like a client ready to list their house for sale. Everything okay?” Kinsley asked when Becca slipped her phone back into her purse.
“No, it’s not. That was your aunt. Toby called. He said all the flowers outside the candy shop are dead, and some of the businesses in town are starting to grumble because theirs aren’t looking so good, either. They’re afraid you won’t be able to fix this before the Walk Inns. Someone called an emergency town council meeting.”
Hearing that news sobered Kinsley immediately. “You’re kidding. I probably shouldn’t get behind the wheel. Can you give me a ride over there? I need to see what’s going on, firsthand.”
“Absolutely.”
The drive to town was quiet between them, both lost in thought. Kinsley finally broke the silence as they headed down the road leading directly onto Main Street. “Remember that incident with Denny, at the Blue Lobstah?”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t help but think he’s purposefully killing my plants.”
“Really, Kins? You think he’d stoop that low?”
“Am I wrong to think that after our run-in at the bar? Who else would do this? I’ve heard he’s also been running around town handing out quotes like candy bars on Halloween. Including quotes to my clients.” Kinsley’s voice rose an octave, and she evened her breath to settle herself. The anger was beginning to churn in her stomach, too.
“Who told you that?”
“Luke said he’d given Edna a quote. My own neighbor, for Pete’s sake! I’ve been taking care of her property since my gardening business began!”
She clenched her fists and held them tightly atop her legs.
“The nerve!” Becca’s tone mimicked her own.
Kinsley loved that her friend always had her back. She reached for Becca’s hand across the console, to give it a squeeze in gratitude.
“I can’t help but think he’s sabotaging my business.”
“I guess I can understand why you would feel that way.”
“Do you know how expensive it’s going to be to replace all of this? Not to mention the time I have invested?” Kinsley said when she saw firsthand the wilted flowers outside of Toby’s Taffy. As soon as the car came to a complete stop, she threw open the passenger door and went directly to the whiskey barrels. Anger coursed through her veins; the war was officially on.
Toby was outside the taffy shop, cleaning the front window, and turned to Kinsley as soon as he heard an expletive fly from her lips. He dropped his cleaning supplies and came to her side.
“I’m so sorry, Bumpkins. I don’t know what could be causing this problem. Is it possible you got yourself a sour batch of soil or something? Sure is bad timing with the event coming up. You must be swamped.” Toby threw his meaty arm around Kinsley’s shoulder and enveloped her in a comforting half hug. His oversized apron smelled of caramel corn, strawberries, and marshmallows. Kinsley didn’t want to let him go, instead she wanted to stay in the comfort of his fatherly arms and hide.
“No, it’s not that. A few flowers looked a little sad the other day, but I thought it was an isolated incident and limited to one or two plants. Now they’re all dead! This is definitely not a soil problem; this problem is man-made,” Kinsley said flatly.
“I promise you, I didn’t touch your flowers. I wouldn’t dare,” he said, finally releasing her. “And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re not the only ones.” His glance traveled down the sidewalk to the nearby seasonal gift shop, and Kinsley’s eyes followed. She couldn’t believe the carnage of dead flowers, now in full view. They seemed to journey all the way down Main Street, like a line of funeral cars.
“No, you’re not the bearer of bad news—I already heard. Aunt Tilly sent the forewarning.” Kinsley sighed heavily.
After parking the car Becca arrived at her side, and gasped. “Oh, Kinsley, this is awful!”
Jenna stepped outside the taffy shop and beckoned to her husband. “I need a hand, hon; we’re backing up in here! Hi, ladies,” Jenna acknowledged with a friendly wave before disappearing back into the shop.
“If you don’t have time to replace them, don’t worry yourself about it,” Toby said, retrieving his cleaning supplies. “I’m sure you have enough on your plate right now. But you’d better go and have a chat with Chris, he’s gathering a special town council meeting for early next week, so you might want to touch base.”
“Chris?” Kinsley groaned. Chris was an alderman with a booming voice. The one most often causing discord within the common council, instead of making peace. She’d much rather go directly to the mayor, but figured she best stick to the chain of command, if that’s what Toby suggested. If she got Chris on her side, it would be best anyhow.
“I’d better get back inside before Jenna has my hide. You catch that rhyme?” Toby laughed, as if desperate to lighten Kinsley’s mood. When she didn’t oblige, he tried taffy instead. “Free samples! Come on in, ladies,” he threw over his shoulder before rushing inside.
“I don’t think all the taffy in the world is gonna make you feel better, is it?” Becca asked timidly. Her friend knew her weakness for sugar, and quite often Toby’s was the place Kinsley ran to for comfort. The only thing that would make her feel better now, though, would be wringing Denny Davenport by the neck, but she kept mute about that. Kinsley sighed heavily.
“This is so wrong,” Becca said.
“You’re certainly right about that. Something is definitely wrong here, Becca.” Kinsley cocked her head and studied the floral carnage in front of her. She reached out and plucked the ivy to take a sniff and prove her own point—that her plants most definitely had been tampered with. And she was pretty darn sure by whom. When she did so, something else caught her eye, and she moved the plant to see what was poking out of the soil. It was a pink Barbie doll shoe. A shiver ran down her spine.
Kinsley knew instantly what the toy meant.
The person who did this knew she’d hidden Daisy’s shoe!
It was a warning . . .
To back off.
