Rest in Peace (9 page)

Martin snorted, then coughed in a poor attempt to cover it up. Georgina sent him a worried glance and shook her head.

“I have a better idea. How about the great hall?” I figured it would lend a backdrop of ambience to Mr. Riley’s stories.

Murmurs of assent met my suggestion, so we were soon seated on the deep leather chairs and sofas in front of the nearly wall-sized fireplace.

“It’s very kind of you to arrange this welcome dinner for me, Miss Storm.” Mr. Riley flashed a smile in my direction. The kind that had probably melted the hearts of many a lady in his younger years. Even I could feel the charisma. Eightiesor not, he definitely had finesse and charm. No wonder Martin was jealous.

“Mr. Riley, how is Jenny? We haven’t heard from her in a while,” Miss Jane said.

Jenny Simon, a.k.a. 1940s film starlet Jeannette Simone, was Mr. Riley’s ex-wife and still good friend. While she lived here for a few months the year before, we’d discovered she had a daughter by Miss Aggie’s older brother, Forrest Pennington. Jack had adopted the child, and no one knew who the real father was. I still got confused trying to untangle all the threads in that skein.

“Jenny is wonderful. She recently moved to Berlin so she could be near Helen and Samantha. I must admit, I find it very comforting to have her there.”

I curled up in an oversized chair and tried to focus on the stories the octogenarian was relating. The seniors, including Martin, seemed mesmerized.

“So you hid on the train?” Frank’s voice held admiration and incredulity.

Jack nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “At one of the stops, I managed to slip off. I found the underground unit I was searching for and told them about the trainload of Jews being transported. I hoped they’d be able to do something, and they did their best. They managed to get the train stopped, killing most of the SS guards. The prisoners were all freed and scattered to the nearby woods.” He paused, and pain clouded his eyes. “We later heard they’d all been rounded up and sent to the camp on the next train.”

“Did any of them survive?” My voice sounded strange, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around my shoulders.

“From the information we received, everyone was sent to the gas chambers.” He spoke quietly, and I wondered how he could tell such a story with no emotion. Then I saw his eyes and inhaled sharply. Oh yes, he felt emotion. Grief lay deep in those piercing eyes.

But if he was grieving, that knocked down my suspicions that he’d swindled wealthy European Jews of their property. Unless, of course, he’d come to regret it later. A wave of
déjà vu
washed over me, and I knew why. I’d been around this circle of thoughts before, the last time Jack Riley was here. I was determined, this time, to resolve the issue.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

M
iss Jane’s black monster careened wildly around the sharp curves while I held tightly to the seat on the passenger side. I should’ve had my head examined. Why in the world had I agreed to let her drive to Caffee Springs?

“Jane! Please be careful.” The terrified screech from the backseat was evidence enough that Miss Georgina felt the same.

“I’m being careful. Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, Georgina.”

Since the weather had warmed back up the last few days, we’d decided to drive over and try the new tearoom for lunch today. We all needed to get away from the constant reminder of the two-week-old murder.

The tires squealed as Miss Jane pulled into the sparse parking area at the side of the tearoom. We got out on wobbly legs. That is, mine. Miss Georgina’s were wobbly, too. Miss Jane’s confidence in her driving skills never ceased to amaze me.

A sign over the door of the light blue and white building read Y
E
O
LDE
T
EA
S
HOPPE
.

“Why, what a lovely name,” Miss Georgina said, with true amazement in her voice.

Miss Jane made an insulting sound with her teeth. “Not very original.”

I had to agree, but as we went inside, the scent of cinnamon, vanilla, and other spices wafted across the room. The atmosphere was charming enough that the overused name could be forgiven.

The hostess, attired in a ruffled cap and apron, ushered us to a small round table, covered with a lace-trimmed cloth.

We scanned the small menu, and when the waitress arrived, we ordered soup, sandwiches, and a pot of tea.

After promising to be back with our drinks, she left the table. Georgina leaned forward. “How are your wedding plans going, dear?”

I sighed. “Oh, we’re so far behind in our planning. I’m starting to think we’ll never get everything done on time.”

“Well, for goodness’ sake, Victoria, why didn’t you ask for help?” Miss Jane frowned and looked almost insulted.

“Thanks, Miss Jane. I’m sure I’ll need your help when the day gets closer, but there are things Benjamin and I need to discuss and take care of.”

“What’s the holdup?” With her usual no-nonsense approach, Miss Jane had gotten right to the point.

“It seems every time we try to get together for an hour or two, something comes up.”

“Dear, you’re just going to have to make it a priority. Plan a time, and don’t allow
anything
to interfere.” With an emphatic nod, she turned and smiled at the waitress, who’d brought our tea and soup. When she put my bowl in front of me, the aroma of the tomato and spinach set my saliva glands working ahead of time. I wasted no time getting down to business.

At just the right moment, our sandwiches arrived.

“Oh dear, are these sprouts?” Miss Georgina asked. “I hate sprouts.”

“Here, I think they switched them,” I said, holding my plate out to her. “The one I ordered had sprouts. This one must be yours.”

Gratefully, she accepted her toasted ham and cheese while I retrieved my chicken pecan salad on a whole wheat roll with loads of sprouts.

My back was to the door, but when the bell tinkled and I heard Miss Georgina gasp, I glanced over my shoulder to see who had entered.

“Why, it’s Aggie and Mr. Riley.” Miss Jane waved in their direction.

Mr. Riley waved back, and with a nod to the waitress, guided Miss Aggie to our table. He grabbed a nearby chair, and they joined us. Miss Aggie didn’t appear too happy to see us, but I didn’t think she’d be rude in front of Mr. Riley.

“What are you two doing here?” Miss Jane beamed at them.

“We’re here to eat lunch, Jane.” Sarcasm dripped from Miss Aggie’s lips.

Wrong again, Victoria
.

Miss Jane turned her attention to her tuna sandwich. Miss Aggie was the only one who could hurt her feelings. She’d practically been Miss Aggie’s shadow when they were young and still seemed to need her approval.

“Miss Brody, I hope while I’m in Cedar Chapel I’ll get a chance to taste your fabulous apple dumplings.”

Way to go, Jack Riley
.

Miss Jane brightened. “I’d be happy to make some for you. Next time you come to dinner.”

He grinned. “I hope that means I can expect another dinner invitation. I do enjoy the company at Cedar Lodge.”

“Of course, Mr. Riley. How about Sunday, after church?”

That would give me a chance to watch him and listen to his stories and perhaps catch a discrepancy somewhere. Oh dear, there I went again with my suspicions.

“Thank you, Miss Storm. I’ll be there. Can I bring anything?” Oh so charming.

“Only yourself.” I could charm, too.

When Miss Jane, Miss Georgina, and I had finished our lunch, we excused ourselves and left. Obviously the other two had gone out alone for a reason. And I needed to stop being so suspicious. After all, they shared an interest in Samantha.

We headed out of town, and Miss Jane took the back way to Cedar Chapel instead of the main highway.

I had a pretty good idea why.

As we drew near the private road that led up to Pennington House, Miss Jane slowed.

“Jane, what are you doing?” Miss Georgina’s voice held an impatient whine.

“Oh, I thought with Aggie in Caffee Springs for a while, maybe we could take a peek at Pennington House.”

“Now, Miss Jane. You know Miss Aggie wants us to wait until the opening so we’ll be surprised.”

“Oh, all right. But I think it’s silly. A hotel is a hotel. And a restaurant is a restaurant. What’s the big secret?’

She sped up but looked longingly up the hill as we passed the road.

When we got back to the lodge, Mabel met us at the kitchen door.

“Bobby is bringing my little Sarah this weekend. I’m so excited.”

“Wonderful. When will you bring her to meet us?” I smiled at the happiness in her eyes.

“Bobby’s going to enroll her in school Monday, and she’ll ride the bus over here afterwards. Are you sure you don’t mind?” She tossed me a worried glance.

“Of course I’m sure. It’ll be nice to have a child here.” I said it with more conviction than I actually felt. But the alternative was to lose Mabel, and that simply wouldn’t do.

Miss Georgina and Miss Jane headed up to their rooms to nap. Buster followed at my side and nudged my hand as I headed for my office. “What is it, boy? Cabin fever?”

Buster smiled. Okay, I know dogs don’t smile. But mine does.

I reached down and scratched him behind the ear. “I could use a walk, too.”

At the word “walk,” Buster raced back into the kitchen and began tugging at his leash. I grabbed it before he could pull the hook from the wall and snapped it to his collar.

Hoping to avoid Mrs. Miller, I headed in the other direction toward the park. There was only a scattering of people there, and they waved and went about their own business. With Buster running beside me, I jogged around the half-mile track, then did another round.

Breathing heavily, I flopped down on a bench. How did I get so out of shape? I used to run five miles every morning. Of course, that was past tense. Surprise struck me. It hadbeen nearly two years since I’d exercised on a regular basis. Occasionally the seniors and I visited the fitness center, but most of the time I spent the whole hour in the hot tub. Well, that would change. I didn’t really have time to go to the fitness center every day. Maybe I should buy a treadmill. Then I could jog when I had a half hour or so to spare.

Of course, treadmills were expensive. I weighed the pros and cons. My health won.

The afternoon sun warmed me, and I yawned. “C’mon, Buster. Can’t go to sleep on a park bench. It would be just like Bob Turner to arrest me.”

Miss Aggie pulled into the garage at the same time we got back to the lodge. I waved, then took Buster to the fenced backyard and removed his leash.

I followed Miss Aggie inside. “Did you enjoy your lunch with Mr. Riley?”

“I guess.” She shoved past me and went upstairs.

Now what was wrong with her? I hoped she wasn’t ill. I stood in the foyer, not sure what to do. Sometimes I had to walk on eggshells where Miss Aggie was concerned. I didn’t want to intrude, but if she was ill, I needed to know.

I went upstairs and tapped on her door.

“Come in.”

The fragrance of Chanel No. 5 wafted to my nostrils as I entered the room. At one time, the only concession Miss Aggie made to her wealth. Boy, had that ever changed.

She stood beside her bed, cramming piles of clothing in her suitcase. Silk blouses spilled over the sides, and a mink stole sprawled over the top of everything.

“Miss Aggie, where are you going?”

“I’m going to Jefferson City to stay with Simon for a while.” Her nephew, Simon, was Corky’s father.

“Oh. Is anything wrong? You’re not worried about something, are you?” The last time she took off for Simon’s on the spur of the moment was when an unknown man had been murdered at Pennington House, and she thought she was a target, too. Could this have something to do with Clyde’s death?

She slammed the bag closed and locked it, then whirled around, her diamond earrings sparkling, and looked me in the eye.

“Can’t I go visit my nephew without you meddling? I’m not a child, Victoria.”

“Of course. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Her expression softened. “It’s all right. I know you mean well.”

“Could you wait until morning? It’s a little late to start out. It’ll be dark before you get there.”

She glared without answering and started to lift the suitcase off the bed.

I reached over and took it from her. “At least let me carry this for you. It’s heavy.”

After I put the suitcase in the trunk of her Lexus, she turned to me. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ll call when I get there.”

As she drove away, a feeling of dread washed over me, but I shrugged and shook it off. Miss Aggie had driven herself to Jefferson City several times. She’d be fine.