Murder by Arrangement (Edna Davies mysteries Book 5) (4 page)

Studying Edna’s
face, Rosie paused as if to consider her answer. Edna was beginning to think
the woman would remain silent when she gave a brief nod. “After hearing your
story, I think I can talk about what happened to me.” Still, she remained
silent for a minute, staring at the nearly empty soup bowl in front of her.

When Rosie
cleared her throat as if ready to speak, tears again glistened in her eyes, and
when her voice cracked, Irene stood abruptly. She bent and put her arms around
her neighbor’s shoulders, giving her a quick hug. Then, glancing at Edna, she
said, “Why don’t we take our tea into the living room where we’ll be more
comfortable.”

Realizing her
daughter-in-law was giving Rosie time to gain control of her emotions, Edna
stood to help gather cups. As she did so, she caught Irene’s eye, winked and
smiled her approval. In the living room, she sat at the opposite end of a sofa
from Rosie and shifted slightly to face the woman. They were seated before a
small gas fireplace which Irene turned on to take the winter chill off the room
before she settled into a stuffed chair at right angles to both Edna and the
hearth.

After taking a
slow sip of her tea, Rosie put her cup on the coffee table and sat back to rub
her forehead, as if scrubbing away a headache. “It’s hard to know where to begin,”
she said.

“What happened
between you two? Why did the police think you might have had something to do
with your husband’s death?” Edna suggested.

The younger
woman’s eyes shifted toward Edna, but without focus as if looking into the
past. She shrugged. “They asked me what I knew about burns on his mouth.
Thought I might have given him something from the nursery I worked in. I guess
that, along with our having separated a month before, made them want to blame
me.” She gave Edna and Irene a crooked smile. “And isn’t it always the spouse
who’s the main suspect?”

“Did you know he
was cheating on you?” Irene said, her expression one of disbelief that a wife
wouldn’t know her husband’s actions.

Rosie grimaced.
“He was a financial advisor. He often met with clients in the evening. Guess
that made it easy for him to get out of the house, and for me to pretend
everything was fine between us.” She shrugged. “Things hadn’t been great with
us for months, but when I found out he was having an affair with my
friend,
”
Rosie nearly spat the word, “I told him to get out. I really figured if he
thought he’d lose me, he’d straighten out and we could get back together. We’d
be happy again.”

“And did he
straighten out?” Edna asked when Rosie fell silent.

 She shook her
head. “I’ll never know. A month after he moved out of the house, he was dead.”

“Did they ever
find out what caused his death?”

“For lack of
anything else, the death certificate says heart failure,” Rosie said.

Irene’s eyes
widened. She seemed fascinated by the story, her eyes glued to Rosie’s face.
“What about the burns you mentioned? Did they ever determine if they were
related to how he died?”

When the woman
hesitated, Edna answered for her. “I doubt it. I know from listening to Albert
that lab technicians have to have some idea of what to look for in order to run
conclusive toxicology tests. They don’t do a lot of guessing because the tests
are expensive. So, unless a symptom or a substance can be identified …”

She stopped when
a commotion from the hallway interrupted her and two young girls bounded into
the room.

There was no
more time to talk about Rosie’s situation, and soon the two mothers were waving
them off. Edna made certain the girls were securely settled in the back seat
before getting into the car. As she opened the driver’s door and stopped to
lift a hand in farewell, her eyes were drawn to Rosie Beck. The woman was
staring intently at the rear window, as if she were about to change her mind
and call her daughter back. Without knowing why, Edna felt a sudden shiver of
unease.

Chapter 4

Edna glanced
into her rear view mirror at the two heads huddled together over the mobile
phone in Lettie’s hands. Short auburn curls on one girl and long blond locks on
the other. Amanda had inherited Edna’s coloring and solid build. Lettie was a
young version of her thin, graceful mother.

The girls were
chattering and giggling, softly at first, but then louder as they forgot about
their driver and lost themselves in whatever game they seemed to be playing.
Edna smiled, returning her eyes to the road and the Friday afternoon traffic
headed south on Interstate 95.

Snow from the
night before lay like a thin, white blanket on the dirt-encrusted pack that
remained from two previous storms. The afternoon temperature had risen only
into the low forties, but Edna was cheered by the sunshine. She let her mind
drift back to the conversation with Rosie Beck. Pondering her initial reaction
to the woman, Edna thought
Pleasant enough
. She didn’t want to think
she’d been prejudiced by Rosie’s history with the police, not after what Edna
herself had suffered. Why then, the uncertainty about the woman?

Edna needed to
know more about the husband’s death and why the police had concentrated their
attentions on his wife. Was it solely because law enforcement personnel always
grilled the spouse first?

How am I to
find out?
Edna wondered only briefly as she realized Mary would almost
certainly have information not reported in the news. Edna thought possibly
Charlie might also have been involved in the investigation. Those speculations
kept her mind busy until she reached her exit off the highway.

She slowed as
she approached Lily Beck’s yellow bungalow with its wide veranda and dormer
windows. The house, Edna had learned from Tuck, had been built in nineteen
thirty by Lily’s late husband’s grandfather. In their early days, bungalows
were much larger than their later counterparts, and that was certainly true of
this rambling structure. Beyond the house and a patch of side garden, Edna
pulled onto the pavement in front of a four-car garage. With a second story
above, the building looked nearly as large as the main house.

Before
double-wide doors, the driveway was deep enough for two cars to sit bumper to
bumper. Edna noticed that someone had neatly shoveled yesterday’s snow from the
entire paved area. She stopped immediately off the road so as not to crowd the
woman standing beside a shiny black, vintage Impala that was parked in front of
the second bay. Lily Beck was speaking to a man on the opposite side of the
hood. From her gestures, she was apparently pointing out spots he’d missed with
his polishing rag which he then dutifully attacked with the cloth in his hand.
So intent was she that she didn’t turn until Edna’s car doors opened and the
girls scrambled out.

In her early
sixties, Lily was a statuesque woman with wavy salt-and-pepper hair that hung
loose to her shoulders. Wearing a woolen coat that had seen better days, she
bent to hug Lettie and smile at Amanda before waving to Edna.

“Hello,” she
called. “Rose phoned to say you’d be bringing Violet, but I didn’t expect you
quite so soon. You made good time.”

“Yes, we beat
the worst of the rush-hour traffic,” Edna said and extended a hand, palm up,
toward Amanda. “I’d like you to meet my granddaughter Amanda.”

Lily solemnly
shook the hand the girl offered before speaking in a surprisingly stern tone to
Lettie. “Where’s your suitcase?”

“In the car,”
her granddaughter said quietly with a glance at the Buick’s back end.

When Edna
released the trunk latch with her remote and started toward the rear of the
car, Lily barked another order. “Clem will get it,” she said, jerking her head
toward the lean man standing beside the Impala. “Clem, take Violet’s suitcase
and leave it inside the front door. No farther. Just inside the door.”

As he
approached, Edna saw that Clem was older than she’d first thought him to be.
Early seventies, she guessed. Although quite thin, he looked physically fit,
and his skin was weathered, as if he spent most of his time outdoors. In the
stillness following Lily’s command, Edna wondered if the man were used to his
employer’s abruptness. She herself couldn’t imagine ordering someone about with
such rudeness.

Having
obediently picked up the pink luggage, Clem was mounting the steps to the
veranda before Lettie broke the growing silence. “Can I show Amanda my room?”
she asked her grandmother in a voice so soft that Edna barely heard her.

Before Lily
could respond, Amanda distracted them all. “Gramma, look. You have a flat
tire.” She was pointing at the Buick’s front end.

Hurrying around
to her granddaughter’s side, Edna’s heart sank. While the tire wasn’t exactly
flat, it had lost enough air that it couldn’t possibly get them home. “Drat,”
she muttered, staring for several seconds, wanting what her eyes saw not to be
true. Finally, resignedly, she looked up at Lily. “I’ll call the garage and
have them send someone out, but I’m afraid I’ll have to impose on you until
it’s fixed. I hope that won’t be inconvenient.”

“Don’t bother
calling anyone. Clem will take care of it.”

The man who had
just been volunteered approached in time to hear. Nodding at Edna, he said,
“Probably picked up a nail. If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll see what I can
do.” His voice, although raspy, was pleasant and surprisingly cultured. His
face was turned away from his employer and, as he reached out a hand, his light
blue eyes held a twinkle.

Feeling
uncomfortable at Lily’s belligerence toward this seemingly kind and gentle man,
Edna smiled. “That would be very nice. Thank you,” she added, handing him her
key ring.

Abruptly, Lily
said, “Come have a cup of tea while you wait, Edna. Violet, show Amanda your
room, and take your bag upstairs when you go.”

The girls ran
off, followed more slowly by the grandmothers. “Workmen. Got to keep an eye on
them or they’ll take advantage of you,” Lily commented, not lowering her voice
as she linked her arm in Edna’s.

Edna glanced
over her shoulder to see Clem pulling tools out of the trunk. Either he hadn’t
heard or was ignoring Lily. Feeling both gratitude and sympathy for him, Edna
said, “How fortunate you are to have a handyman. We’ve been relying on students
from the university. They’re good, but what with exams and semester breaks, we
can’t always count on the same person being available. Seems we’re always
training someone new.”

 Lily nodded as
she slowly drew Edna along the sidewalk. “Hired him last fall to help with the
garden and building repairs. Place has become too big for me to handle alone. I
let him use the apartment above the garage, in lieu of wages. He’s to paint the
house as soon as the weather warms up.”

As they crossed
the porch to the front door, Edna noticed that, indeed, the house needed not
only a good coat or two of paint, but repairs to some of the trim. Unlike the
buildings, she knew the gardens to be well-tended and immaculate. The yard was
apparently where Lily expended her time and energy. Edna made a mental note to
complete the Christmas Rose water color she had in mind for Lily. She had made
up her mind to the single white blossom rather than the clustered blooms of the
Lily of the Valley bush. The painting was to be a “thank you” for the special
invitation and viewing last month. Seeing Lily’s January blossoms had been a
treat. Although Mrs. Rabichek, the previous owner of the Davies property, had filled
her gardens with unusual plants, none bloomed in winter like Lily’s.

The women
settled in Lily’s sun room overlooking the back garden. As soon as they were
settled in the comfortable, cushioned wicker chairs, Edna said, “I noticed the
abandoned beehive when I was here for your garden tour last month. Was your
husband the keeper?”

Lily gazed at
the weather-worn hive with its white, peeling paint that stood against the back
stone wall and shook her head. “No. It was a few years after his death that I
decided to try keeping bees. Thought it would be good for the garden, and I
could benefit from the honey.” She chuckled. “Best laid plans and all that.
When the beekeeper came out that first year, he warned me against the honey. He
said, what with all the rhododendron and azaleas around, never mind that Pieris
japonica over there next to the hive, the honey would make me sick, more like
as not.”

Edna knew the
Pieris japonica as “Lily of the Valley shrub,” but she was getting better at
using the botanical names since she’d joined Greenthumbs. The garden club
members seemed to prefer the scientific references. “I haven’t gotten rid of
the old thing because I like the looks of it there. Plugged up the holes, of
course, so bees can’t get in.” Lily’s voice broke into Edna’s thoughts.

 For the next
hour, the two women drank tea and chatted about plants and grandchildren. It
was a lovely, sun-warmed room and, after Lily’s discourteous behavior toward
her handyman, Edna was surprised at the woman’s affability. Their conversation
was light and pleasant, and the time passed quickly before Clem appeared
alongside the house, raising a hand to let them know he’d finished. The women
left the comfort of the conservatory, Lily to call upstairs to the girls and
Edna to speak to Clem.

“You did pick up
a nail. I found the leak and plugged it, so you should be fine,” he said.

“I don’t need a
new tire?” Edna was surprised and delighted at the news. “Let me pay you
something for your work,” she said, opening the car door to retrieve her tote.

“Most certainly
not,” Lily said, coming up behind Edna and folding her arms across her chest.
She glared at Clem as if he’d been the one to suggest it.

Before Edna
could speak, Amanda and Lettie came running up, so after again thanking both
Clem and Lily for the rescue and the hospitality, she drove away from the house
feeling slightly awkward. Maybe it was because Lily was so abrupt with him, but
Edna was determined to find a way to repay Clem.