Body in the Woods (A Reverend Annabelle Dixon Cozy Mystery Book 3) (7 page)

After about half an hour, Annabelle gave up all pretense of stealth. The excitement and thrill of the chase had evaporated, leaving her feeling ridiculous and in pain. Her crouching position had given her an incredible cramp, and each time she shuffled around to make herself more comfortable, she gathered another nasty sting on her hands, which were now red and swollen.

She had been lucky to not be seen from the path, but every additional minute was test of her fortune, and she had had about enough of this “game.” With no sign that Louisa was about to emerge from her shed anytime soon, Annabelle stood up, brushed down her cassock, and dolefully limped back along the path, soothing her hands by rubbing them gently.

The lingering taste of strawberry cupcake, and her deep and sincere belief that she had earned another one, compelled her to return to Flynn’s tea shop. As she opened the door once again, its sugary aroma struck her closely followed by an idea. She wondered briefly if the two were connected. Sugar. Idea.

Shaking her head, Annabelle returned to the matter in hand. Who better to ask about the enigmatic Louisa Montgomery than Katie Flynn, who no doubt saw the teacher frequently from across the street? Annabelle was also reminded of a remark that Barbara had made about some sort of “fuss” between the two. It was a perfect excuse for another cupcake.

“Hello again, Reverend,” smiled Katie, with a wink. “Have you come in for another bite to eat?”

Annabelle chuckled. “You know me too well, Katie.”

Katie laughed as she placed a cupcake on a plate and began fixing Annabelle more tea.

“Actually, Katie,” Annabelle said, “do you have a moment to talk? I have something I’d rather like to ask you.”

Katie looked around the tea shop, taking in the quiet atmosphere, then spoke to her niece and assistant, a wonderfully pretty girl who always had her head tucked into a book. “Sally? Would you mind taking care of any customers while I speak with the Reverend?”

Sally shrugged and nodded, before bowing her head once more into her paperback. Katie rolled her eyes, then walked with Annabelle to her table by the window.

“So, what’s on your mind, Reverend?”

“Well, I was rather hoping to pick your brain about your neighbor across the road,” Annabelle said, nodding toward Louisa’s home.

“Oh,” Katie said, her lips pursing disapprovingly, “I can tell you plenty about
her,
but it wouldn’t be very neighborly.”

Annabelle frowned with curiosity.

“I heard you had some fuss?”

“‘Some fuss,’ indeed, Reverend. If she had had her way, this place wouldn’t even exist.”

“The tea shop?”

“The very same,” Katie said, nodding toward the strawberry cupcake between them.

“Why so?”

Katie looked across the road wistfully.

“It was a long time ago, but you don’t forget that kind of thing. You see, I grew up here – in this very tea shop. It used to be our family home. Louisa,” Katie said, almost struggling to say the name without grimacing, “and her family lived over there in that tiny house that Louisa now lives in by herself. So we sort of grew up together.”

“You were friends?”

“Sure, I suppose,” Katie said, reluctantly, after a moment’s thought.

“What happened?” Annabelle asked earnestly, on the edge of her seat.

“About ten years ago, I married Tom Flynn – you know him. Well, when it came to deciding where we would live, it was an easy choice. Tom’s house over on the hill was ten times the size of ours! As I was the eldest, and Harry – my brother – was away working in London, I didn’t want to leave our family home empty.”

“So you decided to turn it into a tea shop.”

“And I’ve never looked back.”

“It’s the best in Cornwall.”

Katie chuckled. “Thank you, Reverend. Certain people were against the idea from the start, however.”

“Why?”

Katie shook her head in confusion. “I still don’t really know. She said it would be ‘noisy,’ that it would ‘ruin the aesthetics of the street,’ that the house had been a home for years, and it would be a tragedy to change it into a business. At first I thought it was just the typical grumbles and resistance to change you hear at any old town hall meeting, but when she began getting lawyers involved, I got very upset indeed. They threw out her claims, of course, but it left a very bitter taste in my mouth – especially when the shop was supposed to bring pleasure, and tourists, to the whole village. Personally I think she’s been a teacher for too long. She thinks she can boss around adults just as easily as she does her pupils!”

“It is rather strange.”

“She’s never been the same since her sister disappeared – not that she was so wonderful then, of course.”

“Do you think her objections to the shop were about clinging to the past? Albeit in an odd way?”

Katie shrugged.

“Frankly, Reverend, I think you’d need more Godly forgiveness than I’m capable of to give her the benefit of the doubt to that extent.”

Annabelle sighed sadly.

“Can you tell me anything about her sister? About how she disappeared?”

“Ah, you’re going very far back there, Reverend. I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast!”

“Please try.”

Katie looked up and squinted as she brought forth memories long forgotten.

“Well, the one thing I do remember is that Lucy was as sweet as Louisa was sour. She was always smiling, always laughing. Everybody loved her. None of that intensity or aloofness that Louisa has. No, Lucy was an utterly lovely girl. I’m sure that’s why they never got on.”

“They argued?”

“No, nothing like that. They just… weren’t like sisters at all. They never did anything together. Partly because Louisa always thought she was better than anyone else. If there was a school dance, you could be sure that Louisa wouldn’t show up, and just as sure that Lucy would be the life of the party. If it was a nice day, you were sure to find Lucy skipping down the street to meet her friends, while Louisa was locked up in her room with nothing but her books. I mean, put it this way, Reverend, you know almost every person in this village, and yet here you are, having to ask me about Louisa Montgomery. What does that say about her as a person?”

“Hmm,” Annabelle murmured, “I suppose you have a point.”

“Oh! And she was so disapproving of Lucy having a boyfriend. You’d think she was her mother, rather than her older sister! The crazy thing was that Louisa herself had a boyfriend! If that’s not the definition of hypocrisy then I don’t know what is!”

“So she was protective of Lucy?”

“Bah!” Katie said, brushing the idea aside. “If you’re looking for good intentions from Louisa Montgomery, you’ll need to dig very deep. If you ask me, Louisa was jealous of Lucy. Lucy was younger, prettier, more popular, and had the entire world at her feet. Most people would be proud to call Lucy their sister. Louisa was simply proud.”

Annabelle thought over what Katie was saying as she took a large bite of her cupcake and followed it up with some sips of piping hot tea. She placed the cup down gently and looked once more at the tea shop owner.

“How did Lucy disappear?”

Katie looked once again into the distance, her mind diving into the depths of her memories.

“It was about twenty years ago, now. I believe she had gone out with her boyfriend, and she just vanished. Never came home.”

“Did they question the boyfriend?”

“I believe they did,” Katie said, the slowness of her words and the troubled look in her eyes indicating that she was at the limits of what her memory could bring forth, “but they never arrested him. I think he had an alibi, or perhaps there was some confusion over exactly when it happened.”

“It’s all very curious.”

“Oh,” Katie said adamantly, “I remember the impact it had very well. The whole village was stunned. Lucy was a friend to everyone, her loss affected all of us. Some people were angry, some wouldn’t let it go, and most of us were extremely sad. It was a very dark time.”

“For Louisa, too?”

“Yeah,” Katie said, “even for her. If she was prickly previously, she was positively reclusive after the incident. You’d get an occasional ‘hello,’ or a simple conversation out of her before her sister disappeared, but when she lost her sister, she gave up on other people completely.”

“That’s a terrible story,” Annabelle said.

“Yes, it is,” Katie agreed. “It takes a long time for such wounds to heal.”

“For some people those kinds of wounds never fully do,” Annabelle replied.

Katie nodded.

“Do you remember who Lucy’s boyfriend was?”

Katie once again peered into the distance, lines of deep concentration forming around her eyes.

“You know, I really don’t. My memory is fuzzy. I could tell you a dozen names, but I wouldn’t be sure about any of them!” she laughed.

“That’s alright,” Annabelle said. “Twenty years is a long time. I doubt I could remember much of what I was doing twenty years ago.”

“It’s like I say, Reverend, you remember the things that change your life.”

“That’s very true, Katie.”

“How come you’re so interested in this, Reverend? Has Philippa been regaling you with stories from the past?”

Annabelle smiled. “No, Philippa’s been rather introspective herself, lately. Actually, I’m surprised you haven’t heard the news yourself, Katie. I’m under strict orders not to tell anyone.”

“Oh, come now, Reverend! Surely I deserve something in return for my history lesson!”

Annabelle chuckled.

“You’ll probably hear it soon anyway. This business with Louisa’s sister is about to become the talk of the town once again.”

Katie’s face dropped.

“What do you mean?”

“They found a body in the woods last night.”

“Lucy’s?!”

Annabelle shrugged.

“From what you tell me, Katie, I don’t see who else it could be.”

CHAPTER 4

DR. BROWNSON’S FOOTSTEPS echoed ominously around the clean, hard walls of the hospital. There were few people around at this time of the morning, his only interactions being with the receptionist who indicated in which direction he would find the morgue and the cleaner who nodded a perfunctory greeting.

He walked slowly and steadily, his bearing almost regal. He felt like a man about to meet his fate, a prince about to take the crown, an athlete about to ascend the podium. He distracted himself from his jangling nerves by fidgeting with the bouquet of roses he carried delicately in his clammy palm, and brushing the sides of his grey-brown curls, occasionally checking his reflection in a well-polished window to make sure he hadn’t brushed his hair too much. The large double doors loomed at the end of the corridor like the gates to heaven, and his heart raced ever more quickly as he made his way forward, step by step.

Robert Brownson was suddenly struck by a thought that seared through him with the power of a lightning bolt: Would Harper Jones still remember him? He stopped in his tracks, his mouth open with shock. After a moment to gather his senses, he realized the stupidity of the thought – Harper Jones had been the one who asked for him! He smiled to himself, shook his head, and slowly began walking once again.

After another few steps he froze again. What would he say? It had been so long. He vividly remembered Harper’s keen gaze, her brevity with words, and her ability to make others feel like they were in the spotlight. When they were younger, he had often struggled to say the right thing to her. Now that they had not spoken for so long, he had even less of an idea of what to say. What if she had not lost that focused, silent intensity, just as he had not lost his bumbling clumsiness when it came to conversation?

Brownson took out the white handkerchief he had spent over five minutes neatly folding into his pocket, adjusting it to be as precise and as neat as Harper herself, and wiped it across his brow. He was sweating and suddenly felt immensely claustrophobic in the hospital hallway. He caught sight of a water cooler some way down another corridor and hurried toward it. The glug of the water echoed against the walls as he filled paper cup after paper cup and downed them one after the other.

He breathed deeply, feeling both calmer and cooler.

For goodness sake, Robert!
he thought to himself.
You’re a man of over fifty! You can’t be nervous at the prospect of meeting a colleague!

After preparing himself with these words, however unconvinced of them he really was, he threw the paper cup into the nearby bin, picked up the bouquet once again, stiffened his back, and marched toward the doors marked ‘morgue.’

As soon as he entered the room, however, whatever romantic scene Dr. Brownson had imagined previously disappeared entirely, as half a dozen people of various ages and sizes, all clothed in white coats, spun their heads and caught sight of him standing there with the bouquet in front of him like a knight preparing to joust.

Up until now, Brownson had imagined his meeting with Harper as intimate, the two of them greeting in a warm, friendly manner among the scientific paraphernalia they had once spent so much time with. In his daydreams, he had seen them leaning over some wonderful artifact, enthralled by a particular aspect of it as much as by each other’s company, two dedicated scientists indulging their similarly potent passions for enlightened thinking.