03 Murder by Mishap (9 page)

The speaker was a woman Edna guessed to be about seventy and then adjusted the age by two years when she realized this must be
Cherisse’s
daughter Renee. She was a slender woman with wispy, white hair cut boyishly short. Wearing a sea-green polo shirt and charcoal-gray woolen slacks, she looked prim seated in a chair by the bed. Edna watched Renee’s expression turn from curiosity to puzzlement to slow recognition as her eyes moved from Peg’s face to Edna’s and quickly back to Peg. The book she’d been reading dropped to her lap.

A brief silence ensued during which
Cherisse’s
daughter stared long and hard at Peg. Finally, she said, “You look like your mother.” Only then did she shift her gaze to the woman on the bed. “Don’t you think, so, Mama?”

Cherisse
Froissard
rested against a mound of pillows that seemed to be keeping her upright. Her skin had a grayish cast and her short, straight hair lay like a limp cap on her head, but her light blue eyes held an interest that belied the frailty of the body.

When Renee turned back to them, her eyes, a slightly darker shade than her mother’s, were cool. “It’s been a very long time, Peg. What brings you here?”

“I …” Peg started to speak,
then
faltered until Edna gently poked her in the back. “I came to visit
Cherisse
.”

“Why? And who have you brought with you?” Renee nodded toward Edna as she frowned at Peg. Her voice hadn’t risen, but it did hold a hint of animosity.

“Renee.” The woman on the bed reached a shaky hand toward her daughter, her tone weak but admonishing. Her other hand lifted from the coverlet to beckon Peg. “Come closer, dear, so I can see you better. These old eyes aren’t so good anymore.”

The room was overly warm and small, filled by the single hospital bed, a narrow bedside table and two chairs. The unoccupied chair stood beside a long, narrow window that looked out onto a small patch of grass and beyond to another wing of the facility. On the side of the room opposite the window were two doors. One concealed a bathroom and the other a closet, Edna guessed. 

Peg took the few steps to reach
Cherisse’s
side and stood across the bed from Renee who continued to frown, but more in question than hostility now, it seemed to Edna. In contrast,
Cherisse’s
smile was open and friendly.

“You
do
look like your mother, Peggy dear. She was very pretty, you know.”

Peg didn’t reply, but took the old woman’s hand and held it between her own. Edna couldn’t tell if Peg didn’t know what to say or if she didn’t trust herself to speak at the moment. Edna guessed it was the latter.

Silence filled the room until she wanted to say something if only to cut through what was growing to be an awkward embarrassment. Before she could think of what to say, however,
Cherisse
spoke, repeating her daughter’s earlier words.

“It
has
been a long time. What brings you here today? Has Virginia told you I am dying?”

“Oh, no.”
Peg sounded shocked. “She hasn’t said anything of the sort.”

“What then? Why should you suddenly show up at my mother’s bedside?” The questions burst from Renee harsh and loud.
Glancing at her mother as if in apology, Renee softened her next words.
“Mama isn’t strong and tires easily. Please say whatever it is you came to say and then leave us.”

“Renee,”
Cherisse
rolled her head on the pillow to scowl at her daughter in silent rebuke. Only a few heartbeats passed before her face brightened and she smiled. “My daughter means well. Takes care of me, but worries too much.” She reached out to Renee and, as she did so, her eyes went to a small vase of yellow daffodils on the bedside table. “She grows such beautiful flowers. She brought these to me this morning.”
Cherisse
swiveled her head on the pillow to look back at Peg. “Now, dear, tell us what has brought you here today.”

“Actually, I came to show you something.” Peg pulled the small box from her handbag, adding as she did so, “And I came to apologize.”

 “Apologize?”
Cherisse’s
face showed surprise.

Renee glowered. 

Edna watched as Peg set the small box on the bed near the withered hand she had released seconds before. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she removed the lid and took out the wad of tissue. She looked at neither of the
Froissard
women as she began to open the filmy white paper in the palm of her hand. All eyes were on the object, so only Edna realized another person had entered the room when he moved quietly to stand next to her.

“What’s going on?” A deep, male voice cut into the silence of the room, making them all jump. “Having a party?” He looked around the room with an amused expression, waiting for someone to answer.

Edna saw Renee tilt her head in Peg’s direction and guessed the stranger’s identity before
Cherisse’s
daughter confirmed it. “As you can see, Guy, Mama’s got a visitor.”

The tall, good-looking man with wavy gray hair was
Cherisse’s
son. Guy slid his eyes to Edna. She guessed him to be about six feet
tall,
slender like his sister, with a thick moustache on his upper lip that was more pepper than salt. His eyes were a shade of blue nearly identical to his sister’s, except his had a touch of humor that hers did not. Edna had the immediate impression that he considered himself quite the dandy.
With good reason
, she thought. His open-neck, pearl-gray silk shirt and black slacks were as neat and trim as the rest of his appearance. 

She smiled faintly, nodded briefly and stared back until Guy finally shifted his eyes to Peg. It took him a few seconds longer than his sister to recognize his former childhood playmate. “Peggy?” His tone was a question, wonder and doubt in his voice. “Peggy
Graystocking
?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You look like Isabelle. What are you doing here?” The anger that had colored his sister’s questions and comments wasn’t apparent in his tone.

“Hello, Guy,” Peg said quietly, staring steadily back at him.

“Sit down, please, Guy. She came to show me something.”
Cherisse’s
smile held a touch of annoyance at his interruption before she looked back anxiously at Peg’s hands.

Instead of sitting, Guy moved to stand in front of the window. From behind his sister, he studied Peg curiously. Brother and sister looked very alike except where Renee appeared skeptical, Guy’s expression held curiosity.

Peg looked down at her open palm, at the object resting in the paper. Edna noticed her take a deep breath before lifting the brooch by its backing and holding it out for
Cherisse
to see.

The old woman said nothing at first. She simply stared at the object in Peg’s hand while the tiny clock on her bedside table ticked away the seconds. Then, what little color she had drained from her face, and
Cherisse’s
eyes seem to roll back in her head as she fainted.

No more than two seconds elapsed before the room erupted into chaos. Renee stood abruptly, her book falling to the floor with a loud slap. She bent over her mother at the same time as she reached for the cord to summon a nurse. Guy hurried around to the other side of the bed, pushing Peg aside to bend over his mother and take her hand. There was no sign of humor in his eyes when he turned to glare at Peg.

“What have you done? What is that?” His gaze dropped to the pin she still held between thumb and finger.

Seeing her friend frozen in shock and horror, Edna walked quietly to Peg’s side and took hold of her arm. “We should go,” she whispered.

Peg grabbed the box and the tissue paper from the bed and jammed them into her purse. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, staring at
Cherisse’s
still form. “I had no idea ... I thought she’d be relieved.”

“Get out,” Renee hissed with suppressed fury.

“You’d better go,” Guy said, more kindly but just as firm.

At that moment, a middle-aged woman in a pink, button-down blouse and white slacks hurried into the room and inserted herself between Renee and the bed. “What’s the trouble?” She spoke across
Cherisse
to Guy.

Wanting to get her out of the room, Edna tugged on Peg’s wrist, noticing as she did so that Peg’s hand was balled into a tight fist. She pulled Peg toward the door and out into the corridor. The walk to the parking lot seemed endless. In the car, fastening seatbelts, she thought to ask, “Do you have the brooch?”

Raising her fist, Peg slowly opened her fingers. She had been clutching the jewel so fiercely that the pin had jabbed into her palm and drawn blood.

“Oh, Ed.
What have I done?” The question was filled with sorrow and humiliation.

Edna knew Peg wasn’t talking about the bloody wound. She also knew that nothing she could say would help right then. Gently, she patted Peg’s forearm, started the car and drove wordlessly back to Peg’s house, feeling her friend’s anguish as Peg silently stared out the side window.

When they reached the
Graystocking
mansion, Edna wasn’t going to leave Peg to dwell on the events of the afternoon. Parking the car, she escorted her friend into the house and through to the kitchen, where they found Virginia sitting at the table, staring out at the back yard. She held a red rosary in her hands that she dropped hastily into her apron pocket when Edna and Peg walked into the room. “Are you alright, Mrs. Bishop,” she asked, getting to her feet and eyeing Peg with concern.

“Would you get some antiseptic and bandages,” Edna asked once they had explained how Peg had punctured her hand. Nothing was said about the visit to
Cherisse
.

Virginia had finished dressing Peg’s wound and was gathering up bottles and bandages when Stephen strode into the room, speaking as he entered. “I won’t be here for dinner tonight, Virginia. I’m …” He stopped talking when he saw the group huddled around the table. “I didn’t know you were home, Margaret. Hello, Edna.” Coming closer to his wife, he saw the bandage and asked what she’d done.

“It’s nothing,” she replied. She’d left the brooch on the table so they could clean it with alcohol once they’d bandaged her hand.

As Stephen reached for the pin, Peg covered it with her undamaged hand and, without looking at him, said, “No, Stephen. I’m keeping this for now.”

He glared at her for several seconds before turning to Virginia. “As I was saying, I won’t be home for dinner.” With that, he spun on his heel and left the way he’d come.

“I’d better be getting home.” Edna was the first to speak and break the uneasy silence that had settled into the room. “First, though, I’d like to talk to your gardener, see if he has any questions about the plans we drew up for planting the herbs.” Glancing at the wall clock, she noticed it was after five. “Will he still be working?”

Peg replied half-heartedly, “He was off today. He’ll be back tomorrow. I’m sure he’s following our blueprint.”

“Just the same, Peg, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to him sometime.” Edna didn’t want to voice her true reason in front of
Virginia, that
she wanted to question
Goran
to find out how much he actually knew about gardening.

Peg smiled weakly. “Will you ever forgive him for mistaking lemon balm for mint?”

“Well, for heaven’s sake, everyone knows all you have to do is crush a leaf between your thumb and forefinger to smell the difference.”

“Of
course
everyone knows that,” The amusement in Peg’s eyes looked genuine for the first time since they had entered the nursing home. “Well, if you don’t mind the drive, come by and check on
Goran
whenever you’d like. He should be working the next two days.”

Edna drove home with a myriad of images whirling around in her head.
Cherisse’s
ghostly pallor, Renee’s and Guy’s fury, Peg’s humiliation and Stephen’s anger.
As she reached South County and neared her own home, her thoughts turned to the conversation she’d had with Charlie that morning. On impulse, she turned up onto her neighbor’s driveway. If Jaycee answered the door, Edna would invite her over for a glass of wine.

Chapter Nine

In fact, Jaycee was home but hesitated over Edna’s invitation, at first. Thinking it was a natural shyness on the young woman’s part, Edna said she would welcome the company since her husband was out of town and her daughter had returned to her condo in Boston. Odd, Edna thought, that Jaycee should seem relieved at the news. She accepted with pleasure and agreed to come over in a half hour, giving Edna time to prepare appetizers and open the wine.

After feeding Benjamin and letting him outside, Edna rummaged in the refrigerator for sour cream and cream cheese. She mixed equal parts of each before stirring in freshly chopped dill, chives and basil. Transferring the spread to a small Wedgewood bowl which she placed on a matching plate, she surrounded the dip with two varieties of homemade crackers and some celery sticks. She carried the food into the living room and set it on the coffee table along with cocktail napkins and was returning to the kitchen to fetch wine glasses when the doorbell rang. Her young neighbor was prompt.