Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) (8 page)

“You aren’t really going to Africa, are you?”

“No,” he sighed. “I just said that. I want to
get away from this crazy family. I want to just disappear. I owe Opal a favor,
and I’m trying hard to figure out what happened to Albert, but the more I dig
the dirtier it gets. I want to go back to Oregon, get on a horse and disappear
into the sagebrush.”

“This is a tangle all right. I need to go home
and decompress. Maybe we can talk later after we’ve had a chance to recover,
and this time compare real notes.” I put my hand on the door handle.

“I still need you to search the library.”

I looked at him. “It seems strange they want
the library redesigned. You can appreciate that I don’t want to continue if I’m
not going to get paid. Doesn’t sound like there’s going to be any money left
over for anything.”

Jake coughed like he had swallowed something
pungent, like a habanera pepper. “I know you aren’t going to believe me but Albert
isn’t in financial difficulty. Opal has been spreading rumors faster than a Ford
350 diesel in overdrive. I’m not sure what she’s doing but there’s some
internal politics that I can’t figure out. She gives me a different story every
day.”

“Maybe you should involve the police.”

“Opal does not want the police involved.
Definitely not.”

“What’s she got you on the hook for?”

“You mean, why do I keep doing this?”

I nodded.

He sighed. “Opal got me off the reservation.
She gave me a job when I really needed one and a purpose in life when I had
none. I owe her everything. She literally turned my life around. This is the
least I could do for her.”

“How did you get from Oklahoma to Oregon?”

He blew out a breath. “She advertised for cow hands
in a regional magazine. I did ranch work when I was in my late teens when I
wasn’t sleeping off a drunk in the local jail. The social worker assigned to me
got me to apply for the job. Opal has a reputation for taking in stray ranch
hands and making something of them. I guess you might say it is her mission in
life.”

This guy had some history. Don’t we all? “How’d
you get from Oregon to here?”

“I ride bronco in county fairs. Some buddies
and I came east to rodeo here.”

“Rodeo in Washington, DC?”

“Virginia, Maryland, West Virginia.”

“You mean there’s more than one of you?”

“Yup.”

I shook my head and checked my watch. “This is
making my head hurt. I got to go.” I looked at him. “I’ll go back tomorrow and
see what I can find in the library.”

“Thanks,” said Jake. His blood shot eyes glowed.
“You’re a real pal.”

Ridiculous as it may seem I still had a key to
the Lodge residence. About eleven the following morning I was back on the job
ostensibly to work on the library but in fact to continue my sleuthing. I was
feeling up to it. Sixteen hours of sleep helped a lot.

I rang the bell instead of barging in, as the
driveway was littered with cars. Hudson answered.

“Miss Marlowe, do come in,” he said and stood
back to allow me to pass through the open door. He was all smiles. I was glad
to see him so chipper.

“Thank you, Hudson.”

He bowed. “Most of the guests are up and about.
Might I offer you tea?”

“Yes, thank you. I could use a bracing cup of
tea. May I take it in the library? I don’t want to disturb anyone.”

“Yes, of course. I do believe Cody is in the
library.”

I raised my eyebrows. Perfect. I could catch up
on family gossip. “It will be good to see him.”

“I’ll bring tea for two.”
 

I waltzed into the library weighted down with purse,
brief case and laptop. I had to have the props to do a proper job of sleuthing.
I was planning to dig through the endless volumes of books. Decorators like to
have matching book jackets in the library. Believe it or not, there were
booksellers who specialized in color coordinated books for decorators. I could
make a show of going through all the books looking for the ones with spines
that matched my turquoise and burnt orange accessory color scheme, pulling out
the ones that didn’t.
 

The library was tidy. No signs of a party. Cody
looked up from the newspaper he was reading at his uncle’s desk. He looked different
in ranch attire. He wore a plaid long sleeve western cut shirt and snug blue
jeans. When he stood, I noticed the cowboy boots.

“Hello, Cody, planning to ride the range
today?”

He laughed and held out his hand. “Good to see
you, Fiona.”

His hand was warm and calloused. I guess that
was from roping and riding.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you. I have
work
to do, but I’ll be very quiet.”

“No, be my guest. I was making a half-hearted
attempt to read the Washington Post, but they have nothing about the price of
alfalfa or yearlings. You rescued me from boredom. May I help you?”

An assistant wasn’t on my agenda. What if I
found something important in the books, and Cody saw it before Jake and I had a
chance to evaluate? I was at loss for words, not something that usually
happened to me.

Cody cocked his head. “You don’t want help.”

“You see,” I said, “what I’m doing isn’t very
manly, and it would probably be as boring as the Washington Post. Are you
returning to Oregon soon?” Notice my clever change of subject.

“In a few days.
I’m
waiting for Opal. She likes someone to travel with her. As soon as the family leaves,
we’ll wrap things up and head back.”

“What will you be wrapping up? What will happen
to Hudson? I hope Albert left him something in the will. Did everything go to
charity?” I couldn’t resist probing about the will. I was dying to hear what
had transpired.

Cody’s eyes gleamed like the devil himself. “He
didn’t leave anything to charity. As it turns out, Albert changed his will the
week before he died. Opal knew nothing of the change.”

I didn’t want to appear nosy but I couldn’t
restrain myself. I leaned closer.

Cody’s
smile widened. “Albert divided the liquid assets equally among his many
relations. The house goes to Hudson for taking such good care of Albert all
those years.” He laughed out loud. “Trouble is there’s so much debt there won’t
be much cash left for the relations. Hudson comes out the best, sort of.”

“Oh, dear,” I said.

“Yes, oh dear,” said Cody.

“I guess that was why Hudson was so jovial when
he answered the door.”

Hudson entered the room at that point, smiling
like the master of the manor. He set the tea service on the coffee table.
“Would there be anything else?” he asked, looking back and forth between us.

“Thank you, Hudson, that will be all,” said Cody.

Interesting that Hudson was still a working
man. I poured and served Cody strong black tea, no cream or sugar.

He puckered his lips after the first sip.
“Somehow tea just doesn’t do it for a buckaroo.”

“No.
Too civilized.
Cody,
what happens next? What will Hudson do with this big house?”

“He should sell it. Frankly, it is not a prize
inheriting a house like this. You got to have the income to keep it up. The
value is in selling it. But he’s not going to sell.”

“What?”

“No, he says he’ll be staying on here.”

“What?”

“Yep.
I can’t figure
it out. But he seems happy with the arrangements.”

“Where will he get the income to keep this
place going?”

“That’s what we’re wondering.”

“We?”

“The relatives.
Opal
says he deserves the house for having to put up with Albert and Olivia. The
relatives think otherwise. They’re going to contest. Meanwhile, Hudson has graciously
allowed us to stay on.”

“I guess my job here is finished.”

“You should speak to Hudson since he’s
responsible for the bills now.”

I sat my empty teacup on the table and looked
at Cody’s full cup. “I guess tea isn’t your drink.”

He shook his head and smiled. “I’m going to the
kitchen to find something more manly to drink. Better talk to the new boss
about your job. I’ll send him in.”

Cody strode from the room in his western gear,
looking out of place in an Eastern establishment library. I sat in bemused
silence, calculating my next move. Jake had not phoned with this new twist in
the plot. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since the church parking lot. Why
hadn’t he phoned to tell me about the outcome of the will? Was he still on the
hook with Opal to find out who’d done Albert in? This was strange. I felt like
a mote floating in space. Now what to do? I poured myself another cup of tea.
When in doubt have tea to stimulate the brain cells. I sat there floating in
space, my mind wandering, when Hudson came trotting in.

“Is there something I can get for you, Ms.
Marlowe? Have you finished tea?”

I patted the seat next to me on the couch. “Hudson,
we need to talk.”

He sat down on the edge of the cushion, hands
on knees, back straight. He wouldn’t meet my eye.

“Congratulations. I understand you are the new
master of the house?”

“In a manner of speaking, Miss
Marlowe.”

He wasn’t acting like the new master. He didn’t
dress like the new master. But who was I to question if he was slow in
accepting the new role.

Since no more details were forthcoming I said, “As
I’m a working girl, I need to know if you are going to pay me for what I have
already done in the library and if you are going to want me to finish.”

He looked around the library which still retained
its old money grandeur. “I rather like it as it is.”

There went that job. How annoying. I put on the-customer-is-always-right
smile. “I see. Shall I talk to Opal about the charges I’ve incurred so far or
will you be responsible?”

“If you would be so good as to give me an
invoice, I will see it is paid.”

“I see. If you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll figure
out the costs I’ve incurred thus far.” I wondered how I might include my
sleuthing time. I was disappointed at the loss of my job. I was itching to get
my hands on those books and see what I could find. Hudson had moved to number
one suspect on the list.
 
Nice house he
inherited. Where was Jake Manyhorses when I needed him?

Hudson left and I closed the door after him. I
eyed those books. I bet they numbered in the thousands. What did Jake think
could be hidden there that would shine light on Albert’s demise? Maybe it
wasn’t an issue anymore. Maybe that’s why Jake hadn’t called. Hudson was so
glaring a candidate that I decided it couldn’t be him.
Too
obvious.

I pulled out a book with the title
The Last Western
and started fanning
through it.
Nothing but dusty pages.
I looked behind
the book.
Nothing but the back of the bookcase.
I
pulled out a few more.
 
What if there was
a secret passage into the library, a hidden way a person could come and go
without being detected? Maybe the murderer sneaked into the room through the
secret passage and slipped the drug into Albert’s brandy.

The romance of the thought carried me away and
I started pulling selected books out, looking for I didn’t know what, a
partition or crack or crevice that would indicate a door of some type. I pulled
out every fifth book in the interest of time. Albert had quite a range to his
library. He had the entire collected works of Tennessee Williams.
Impressive.
Then came a few rows of Russian
authors.
I worked my way along, thinking what a shame I wasn’t going to
be able to order colored coordinated book spines in my color scheme. I made it
to the end of the row and stepped back to reconsider my strategy. It would help
if I knew what I was looking for. I stepped further back. If I was going to
hide something in books where would I do that? What would I be hiding for that
matter?

A knock on the door interrupted my reverie. I
hurried to the desk, threw open my laptop and sat down. “Yes?” I called,
hurrying to power up and pull up the numbers for the library job.

Opal stuck her head in the door. “Hello, Fiona.
Hudson said you were here, and I thought I’d pop in to say hello.”

“Come in, come in. I’m calculating the bill for
work I’ve done on the library so far. Hudson said he doesn’t want it redesigned.”

“That’s what I came to speak to you about,” she
said. “I need your help.”

I regarded her as she advanced to stand by the
desk. She, too, was dressed western. It suited her. Her dark blue jeans were
pressed with a sharp crease down the middle of the leg and set off her slim figure.
Her red checked blouse was cowgirl cut and at the open throat she wore a neatly
tied red scarf. And she had the cutest red cowgirl boots on tiny feet. All she
needed was the hat and horse. She did not look one day over sixty. I liked the
way she wore her hair, pixie short.
Perfect cut for a hat.

“My, but you look handsome,” I said. “You and Cody
are ready to saddle up.”

“Why, thank you. I’m anxious to get back to the
wide, open spaces.”

“What help do you need?” I was curious, of
course.

She cleared her throat and looked out the
window, not meeting my gaze. “I need you to help me keep a secret. You seem
like a level headed woman.” She peered at me as if to ask for confirmation.

Level headed was not a term associated with my
name but appearances can deceive. “I’m flattered.” I hoped I should be. “I’ll
try to help.”

Without further preamble she said, “Hudson and
I are to be married.”

I gripped the desk hard to keep from falling
off the chair.