03 Murder by Mishap (12 page)

“Have you seen a little black cat around?” As she spoke, Mary scanned the yard, obviously on the lookout for the feline.

“No,” Edna said, unable to keep from glancing around herself. “Why? Is it yours?”

Mary’s parents had never allowed her to have a pet, complaining she’d lose interest and they’d be left to care for the dog or cat or fish or whatever other oddity Mary would bring home. Now, in her
mid fifties
, after adopting Hank from his deceased owner’s family, Mary had become so enamored of dogs and cats that she was visiting as many local animal rescue groups as she could find.

“Not mine. I’ve seen it a couple of times in the past week. She looks like she’s only half-grown. Course, I’m not sure it’s a ‘she.’ I think someone dropped it off at the side of the road to let it either fend for itself or get run over.” She made a face to show how disgusted she was over such behavior. “I’ve been putting food out on the back porch for her for the last couple of days. It’s always gone the next morning, so I think she’s beginning to hang around and trust me.”

“How do you know something else isn’t eating the food,” Starling asked, “like a raccoon or a fox or something?”

“I don’t. But the kitten is still around. Saw her from my window this morning. She ran this way and disappeared behind your side of the stone wall.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for her,” Edna promised. “Maybe Benjamin will make friends with her.”

“That’d be nice,” Mary’s face brightened with the prospect before she frowned with curiosity at the bag Edna had just handed to Starling.
“
Whatcha
goin
’ to do with all the bulbs?”

“They’re for a friend.” The question brought
Goran
to Edna’s mind, and she wondered with a sinking feeling if he would show up while they were having lunch. She’d told Peg that he could come by
after noon
, but they hadn’t agreed on a definite time. She wouldn’t be able to question him thoroughly with others around. Mentally, she shrugged, deciding she couldn’t worry about it.

In the kitchen, she heated the fish chowder, adding milk during the last few minutes. Starling mixed up yellow meal and baked cornbread in her great grandmother’s cast iron pan with cups shaped like tiny corn cobs. Edna briefly thought of making bread pudding, another old New England recipe, but decided it would be too heavy a dessert and ended up washing a bunch of seedless grapes to serve with homemade sugar cookies.

After Jaycee arrived and the women were seated around the kitchen table, talk revolved around recipes and ideas for the illustrated cookbook.

“What about a cranberry bog,” Jaycee asked. “A picture of cranberries would be a ‘must’ for this sort of book, wouldn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Starling said, buttering a piece of corn bread, “but that’d be better done in the fall. Foliage in the swamps and bogs are the first to change color. I have some shots back at the studio you can look at
sometime
.”

“If you’re
travelin
’ up the coast,” Mary said after swallowing a spoonful of chowder, “you should go to Deer Isle, Maine. It’s a bit far north, but if you’re including a
finnan
haddie
recipe, you should see the smoker Stonington Seafood has for the haddock. It’s a kiln the company shipped from Scotland a few years ago, and they say it’s an exact replica of the first mechanized kiln.”

“Oh, right,” Starling agreed. “I’ve heard about that. It’s called a
Torry
kiln. The original was built in Aberdeen, Scotland, in the late nineteen thirties.”

Putting down her soup spoon and joining the conversation, Edna said, “That wouldn’t be far from Bar Harbor. I think that whole area of Maine around Acadia National Park would be fun for Jaycee to see, if she’s never been before.” She turned to Jaycee. “Acadia was the first national park to be created east of the Mississippi.”

“I’m going to have to start a list,” Jaycee said with a laugh. “It’s beginning to sound like I might be biting off more than I can chew, if you’ll pardon the pun.” She grinned widely at the others’ groans and ducked when Mary threw a wadded-up paper napkin at her from across the table.

Chatter stopped for a few minutes while the only sounds were those of spoons clicking against bowls and knives clacking onto plates as the women ate. Finishing her chowder first, Starling resumed the conversation. “You could compile a good-sized cookbook for the Boston area alone,” she said, settling back in her chair with a sigh. “That was delicious, Mom. Thanks for lunch.”

Smiling and bowing her head slightly to acknowledge the compliment, Edna stood to clear away soup bowls and bread plates and replace them with dessert dishes. She set a bowl of grapes and a plate of cookies on the table before resuming her seat and turning to Jaycee. “Listening to all these suggestions, I think it might be a good idea for you to sit down with your recipes and a map and plot your course.” Glancing at her daughter, she added, “Starling has been all over New England with her camera, so she should be able to help.”

“Sure,” agreed Starling. “I’ll be glad to. Good idea to break up the writing and cooking with field trips, beginning this afternoon with Carpenter’s Mill. Ready, Jaycee?” The two younger women rose and, chattering away, departed through the mudroom.

Intent on finding the little stray kitten, Mary and Hank left soon after, and Edna spent the rest of the afternoon puttering in the yard, weeding and loosening soil in the gardens with a hand rake. The afternoon sped by, and she was dusting off a few decorator pots, arranging them around the patio, when she heard the sputtering of a small engine coming from the front of the house. Curious as to what was making the noise, she hurried along the brick path to the driveway.

“Hello,” called Jaycee as she put her foot down on the broken shells to balance the scooter.

“Well, hello,” Edna greeted. She walked around examining the little red machine. “What a pretty bike.” Then, frowning and looking toward the road, she said. “Is Starling with you?”

“Nah.
She’s gone to meet Charlie. She dropped me off at home and was going to swing by here, but I told her I had some shopping to do and would come over and let you know. She seemed anxious to get going before Charlie changed his mind.” Jaycee laughed. “I guess he must have to cancel their dates pretty often.”

Edna chuckled in agreement. “If her luck holds, she won’t be home for dinner tonight.”

“I hope you’re right. She seems to like him a lot.” Changing the subject, Jaycee said, “I’m on my way to the grocery store. Is there anything I can pick up for you?”

“It’s nice of you to ask. Come inside for a minute while I check my list. If you have time, I’ll make some tea and you can tell me what you thought of the mill.”

“Oh, wow,” Jaycee exclaimed as she lowered the kickstand on her scooter, dismounted and took off her bicycle-style helmet. “That is such an interesting place. A picture of the grist mill will be great for my book. Thanks. I’m so glad you thought of it.”

Edna was about to ask if Starling took her to any other sites or beaches along the coast when another two-wheeled vehicle turned in from the road. This one’s engine, however, was loud enough to drown out all other sounds as it rounded the circular drive and pulled up next to them. The two women stood and stared as the black-leather clad man dismounted and removed his Darth Vader headgear.
Goran
Pittlani
balanced the helmet on the seat of his motorcycle before coming forward.

“Hi.” Ignoring Edna for the moment, he stared beyond her with frank admiration at Jaycee. “
Goran
Pittlani
,” he said with a courtly bow in her direction. Staring at her, he frowned slightly. “Have we met before?”

Jaycee shook her head. The smile on her lips left her eyes, but her tone was pleasant enough when she replied. “I’m sure we haven’t. I’m Jaycee Watkins.
Nice to meet you.”

“
Goran
gardens for a friend of mine,” Edna said, making further introductions. “Jaycee is a new neighbor.” She turned to study
Goran’s
vehicle. “I don’t understand why you don’t use a pickup instead of this thing.” His mode of transportation only added to her doubts that he was any sort of gardener.

When he laughed, his dark eyes twinkled and vertical ridges deepened on either side of his mouth. “I do okay with my bike. When I need something bigger, I rent it.” He turned back to Jaycee, motioning to her scooter with a nod of his head. “What’s it going to be when it grows up?”

Despite her concerns about the gardener, Edna couldn’t help chuckling as Jaycee retorted with a hint of playful annoyance, “Hey, my little Jenny suits me just fine.”

“Jenny?”
Goran’s
expression held both curiosity and amusement.

“Yes, ‘Jenny.’
You know, as in donkey. She’s hard working and dependable.” Jaycee’s mouth clamped shut as if she’d said all she was going to on the subject.

“Donkey.
Right,” was
Goran’s
reply.

Edna thought it was time to interrupt their banter, entertaining as it was. She was also eager to question
Goran
. “I was about to make tea. Would you like to join us?”

“My pleasure.”
His look in Jaycee’s direction gave emphasis to his words.

Edna invited them to sit at the kitchen table while she put on the kettle and arranged a plate of blueberry muffins and sugar cookies, leftovers from breakfast and lunch. As she moved between
table
and counter, she listened to
Goran
ask some of the same questions Jaycee had been answering the evening before, so she listened with only half an ear until Jaycee turned interrogator.

“Are you from around here,” she asked him as Edna brought a tray to the table.

“Here, let me help you.”
Goran
half rose and held out his hands.

“I’ve got ‘
em
.” Edna had the feeling his action was more to avoid answering than to be polite, so she repeated the question as she took her seat. “I was wondering the same thing,
Goran
. I haven’t detected an obvious accent.”

“I’m from lots of places. We traveled all over when I was growing up,” was all he offered as he accepted a cup of tea.

“Was your father in the military,” Jaycee asked, choosing a muffin from the plate in the middle of the table.

“Army.”
Goran’s
offhand reply was followed immediately by a smile as he finally raised his eyes from the sweets to meet Edna’s gaze. “I haven’t had homemade blueberry muffins in years. These look fresh, but this isn’t blueberry season, is it?”

“July, usually,” Edna agreed, mentally ticking off another black mark against this man who was posing as a gardener, but had to ask about growing seasons. She decided to ask the question foremost on her mind. “Have you been a gardener long?”

“Not really. Actually, I consider myself more of a general laborer, at this point. I’m learning, trying to work my way up to professional status.” His boyish smile charmed her, and the frankness of his answer surprised her.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Jaycee frowned, joining in the conversation.

As soon as she’d spoken,
Goran
bit into his muffin and took a minute to chew, swallow and take a sip of tea before speaking. “I dig and plow and plant things where I’m told,” he said to Jaycee with his disarming grin. “Not much expertise in it, but I don’t mind. I get plenty of fresh air and exercise.”

The little tea party passed in the same manner for another half hour. Once her guests had gone, Jaycee to buy groceries and
Goran
to return to Providence with the iris bulbs, Edna sighed, realizing she’d learned nothing of significance about either one. Disappointed, she wanted desperately to talk to Charlie to find out if he had any news, but she knew Starling would never forgive her if she interrupted what little time her daughter had with her policeman.

To relieve her frustration and satisfy the need to speak with someone, Edna tried Albert’s cell phone again. As before, she was connected immediately to voice mail. She left a brief message that she hoped sounded more upbeat than she was feeling and wondered if he were in consultation with Stan’s doctors or if he’d simply forgotten to recharge his phone.

Moving to the living room, she switched on the television to watch the evening news, but the only tidbit that distracted her mind from her recent guests was the weather forecast, predicting a storm blowing in and bringing rain for the next day.
Good for the lawn and gardens
, she thought. Still restless, she decided to drive down to
Matunuck
Beach. A walk along the sandy shore would help tire her physically and maybe allow her to sleep. Otherwise, she knew she wouldn’t relax until she’d had a chance to discuss with Charlie all the questions going around in her head, whether or not he had any answers. 

She strolled along the beach for an hour and, when she finally did go to bed and was able to fall asleep, it was only to be awakened by the ringing phone. Struggling up from a sound sleep, she squinted at her bedside clock. “’
ello
,” she slurred, wondering who in the world would be calling at 1:16.

So panicky was the voice on the other end of the line that she almost didn’t recognize it as belonging to Peg.