Crowned and Moldering (21 page)

“You look so lonely.”

I flinched at the sound and looked behind me. “Hey. Hi, Denise.”

“You okay?”

“Oh, sure. I’m not really lonely, just hiding. And de-stressing.”

She smiled. “This is a great place to do both.”

“I know. It’s so beautiful here.”

“It is.” She gazed around. “Sometimes I wonder how my life would’ve turned out if
I had traded my garden tools for a briefcase. There was a time when I actually had
to make that decision.”

“I think you made the right one,” I said, brushing my fingers over the wispy strands
of pink pampas grass growing along the path.

“I like to think so,” Denise said. She moved her rake in and around the nearby bushes,
extracting dead leaves and weeds. “If you’ve got something on your mind, Shannon,
feel free to vent. I figure anything said out here stays out here.”

I laughed lightly, recalling that I’d said almost the same thing to Eric a few days
back.
What happens here in the jail, stays in the jail,
I’d assured him.

“I guess it might help to talk it through,” I said.

“Go right ahead. Pretend I’m not here if it helps any.”

“No, I don’t mind talking to you. Especially since you know the players.”

“Now you’ve stoked my curiosity.”

I smiled. “Okay. So one of my favorite crew members—well, they’re all my favorites,
really. I’ve been working with the same guys for years now and they feel like my brothers,
you know? Anyway, one of them just told me that Cliff Hogarth offered him a lot of
money to quit my company and work for him.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s just wrong.”

“It’s very wrong, mainly because he only did it to harass me.” I told her about the
slanderous statements he’d made to Ms. Barney and others, and I was about to complain
about Whitney, too, when I remembered that Denise and Whitney were friends.

And speaking of friends, it just occurred to me that since Cliff had dated Lily, maybe
Denise had been friends with him, too.
Oh, boy. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“I probably need to stop talking,” I said. “For all I know, you and Cliff are old
pals.”

“Believe me, we’re not,” she rushed to say. “I’ve always thought he was a scumbag.”

“I never liked him, either, and now it’s worse than ever.”

Her eyes narrowed as if she were searching back to a certain moment in the past. “Cliff
was always a troublemaker. Always pushing people’s buttons. He pushed Lily’s plenty
of times, and sometimes I hated him for it.”

“He’s sure been pushing mine,” I muttered.

“And, frankly, don’t you wonder why he came back to town?” Denise leaned on the rake
handle and squinted up into the sun from beneath her gardening hat. “I mean, he got
here, and within a month you’d all found Lily. It makes me wonder.”

So I wasn’t the only one who had questioned the timing of Cliff’s return to Lighthouse
Cove. Why
had
Cliff come back? And why now?

“But now I can see that I’m feeding your anger,” Denise said, “and I don’t like to
do that.”

I smiled. “Then let’s change the subject. How are you and Brad doing? How’s the kitchen
working out?”

“You know, we love it.” She talked about how Brad—Mr. Jones—loved cooking now that
they had a wonderful, state-of-the-art kitchen. “Before, he would never even boil
water, but now he’s always experimenting with new, amazing recipes, like short ribs
and chicken piccata and lots of yummy sauces, you know? And it’s all because of our
kitchen. So thank you. You did a fabulous job.”

Laughing, I said, “Well, I fished for that compliment, but thank you. I’m glad it
makes you happy.”

“The only thing we need now is a few kids running around the house.”

I grinned. “Are you planning a big family?”

“I would love three or four, but Brad thinks two would be plenty.” Denise smiled,
but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, we haven’t had much luck in that area yet.”

Her happy tone had completely faded. I tried to think of something encouraging to
say, but all I could do was reach out and squeeze her arm lightly. “But you will.
I know it.”

“I hope so. It’s funny. Back in the day, after we realized we were in love with each
other, we were hesitant to rush into having kids. It didn’t seem right. Because of
Lily, you know? But now . . .”

“I understand, and I’m so sorry you’re having problems now. But you’re both such good
people, I know good things will happen for you.”

“Thanks, Shannon.” She took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll see how it goes.” She shook
her head as if to shake away the melancholy and changed the subject. “What about the
lighthouse mansion? How is that job coming?”

“We just got back in there, after it was declared a crime scene for a week. And it’s
going to be beautiful. I’m hoping I can talk Mac into joining the House and Garden
Tour in May. It would be great to open the place to the public for a day or two once
we’ve finished the rehab.”

“That would be fun,” she said. “I’d love to see it. It’s in the perfect spot, isn’t
it? Right there where the breakwater and the lighthouse and the beach and the cliffs
all come together. I always loved walking along the rocks when I was little.”

“Me, too. My dad used to drive us out there. Remember when there were sand dunes between
the road and the beach? We used to slide down them and pretend we were surfing.”

“Of course I remember. They’re mostly sand mounds now.”

“Sand dune-lettes.”

We both laughed. It was nice to reminisce with someone who’d grown up experiencing
the same joys.

“You’ll laugh at this,” I said. “The first time I walked inside the mansion, I barely
made it to the kitchen before this tiny white rat came skittering across the floor.
I went screaming out of there. It’s so embarrassing to think about.”

She laughed. “I don’t mind little white rats. It’s the ugly big gray ones that freak
me out.”

I moaned. “I’m just a wimp.”

“I wasn’t always good with rats, but I got used to having the little white ones around
when Brad and I got married.”

I was confused at first, then realized what she was talking about. “Oh yeah. The first
time I ever saw a white rat was in Mr. Jones’s biology class. It freaked me out then,
too.”

“He’s still got them in the classroom.”

“It’s nice to know some things never change.”

My arms were covered in goose bumps by now, after all this talk about rats. “I hope
you got used to them. Didn’t you have to take them home when school was closed for
vacation?”

Denise made a face. “Not at first. Brad knew how I felt about the little critters.
Darren Dain always took them home.” She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t that just figure?”

The name was an instant buzzkill. “Mr. Dain? Dismal Dain, the world’s worst guidance
counselor? He took care of the rats?”

She just laughed and nodded.

“Wow. That makes perfect sense,” I said, as the goose bumps returned. I shook my head
at the thought of that horrible little man communing with rats. But, then, who else
would put up with him all summer besides a bunch of squirmy rodents?

*   *   *

By the time I left Denise at the Gardens, I felt so much better. I would still call
the lawyer in the morning, but at least I wouldn’t continue to suffer from that awful
sick feeling in my stomach. It had faded sometime during my friendly conversation
with Denise.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t forget that one moment when she confessed that she and Mr.
Jones had tried to have children but hadn’t succeeded yet. They were still so young,
though, so I refused to give up hope. I smiled at the image of Mr. Jones holding an
adorable little baby in his arms.

My smile faded when I pulled into my driveway and saw Douglas pacing up and down my
walkway. I was tempted to back up the truck and drive off, but that would be cowardly.
Besides, maybe he’d decided to turn down Cliff’s job offer. I almost laughed. Why
would anyone turn down more money? I gathered my work stuff and my purse, determined
to listen to what he had to say for himself. And then I would pour myself a big glass
of wine. I thought I deserved it after the day I’d been through.

Taking a deep breath, I jumped out of the cab and slammed the door shut. “Hi, Douglas,”
I said, as breezily as I could muster, knowing that after this last confrontation,
I wouldn’t see him at work again. I braced myself for that unhappy certainty as I
strolled toward him.

“Shannon, where did you go?” He raked his fingers through his hair, something he’d
been doing constantly, if his scruffy, disheveled hair was any indication.

“I took a little drive. What’s the problem?”

“What’s the—? Are you kidding? You just took off before I could even tell you that
I would never quit you to take a job with Hogarth. None of us would. Why would you
think that? You’re the best boss I’ve ever had, and Cliff is a jackass. Everyone in
town knows that.”

“They do?”

“Yes. Believe me, I wouldn’t work for him on a bet. You have nothing to worry about
where he’s concerned.” Douglas gave me a wary smile, as if half-afraid I might bolt
again. “I’m just really sorry you were so upset. It’s all my fault. If you want to
dock me, go ahead, because I didn’t get much work done this afternoon. I was too worried,
thinking you might be at the bank, cutting off my paycheck or something.”

“Come here,” I said, and pulled him close for a hug. After a long moment, I let him
go. “Thank you for telling me all that. And I’m glad you told me that Cliff approached
you about a job. It’s good for me to know those things.”

“God, you scared the crap out of me. I thought you were so mad at me.”

“I’m not mad. Not at you. And I’m sorry I scared you. I scared myself a little, too.
But that’s over now, and I’m delighted that you aren’t quitting.”

After he left, I went inside and poured that glass of wine I’d promised myself. I
sat on the couch with Robbie and Tiger crowding me on both sides and thought about
what Douglas had said. Mainly the part where everyone in town knew that Cliff was
a jackass and he wouldn’t get many jobs after his bad reputation became more known.
If only that were true.

Tiger climbed onto my lap and I relished the warmth. I reminded myself that Whitney
had tried to hire Cliff, so not
everyone
in town felt the same way Douglas did. But despite Whitney’s moaning about her
love
for Cliff, chances were excellent that Whitney had only hired him to bug me.

I’d always been able to get along with my competition, although I had to admit I’d
had my share of adversaries when I first took over my father’s business. Strangely
enough, not everyone took kindly to a woman running her own successful construction
company. But until Cliff came back to town, we had all managed to live in relative
peace and harmony. Now the peace had been shattered, and I didn’t know what to expect
next.

*   *   *

The phone rang early Wednesday morning and I had to run out of the bathroom with my
toothbrush in hand to grab it.

“Hello?”

“Shannon.”

“Lizzie? What’s up?” I glanced at the clock by my bed. “For Pete’s sake, girl. It’s
barely seven o’clock. Is everything okay? Are the kids okay? Is it Hal? What’s wrong?”

“Everyone here is fine, Shannon, but you’ll never guess.”

“You’re right—I won’t. So just tell me.”

“Cliff Hogarth is dead.”

A half hour later, after taking the shortest shower on record and dressing for work,
I paced around my kitchen, wondering what to do. Cliff was dead, and my head was about
to explode from the guilt of having yelled at him mixed up with burning curiosity.
How had he died?

In the midst of all that, Lizzie called back.

“I’m sorry, Shannon!” she moaned over the phone. “Cliff isn’t dead after all!”

“What?” I stared at the phone, shaking my head. “What are you saying? What happened?”

“Hal heard on the police scanner that Cliff was dead, but the report was wrong,” she
explained. “According to Hal’s friend Steve over at the medical center, Cliff is clinging
to life in the intensive-care unit.”

“We can talk about Hal’s obsession with the police scanner later.” I slid into a chair
and had to grip the kitchen table to take it all in. “Tell me what happened to Cliff.”

“He was hit in the head with a shovel.”

A shovel?

My mind was about to spin off into hyperspace now. I had a sinking feeling that I’d
seen the shovel she was referring to.

“Who hit him?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.

“Denise Jones.”

I gripped my stomach. The past hour had been like a roller-coaster ride, with Lizzie
calling three times, first to tell me that Cliff was dead, then to tell me that she
wasn’t sure, and finally, just now, to say that he was alive. Honestly, I didn’t know
whether to throw a party, have a drink, or pray. The good news was that whatever had
happened to Cliff Hogarth, I didn’t have anything to do with it, thank heavens. But
now I was worried about Denise. She’d admitted to me that she’d hated Cliff, but I
wasn’t about to mention that to Lizzie or anyone else. Not yet, anyway.

“Tell Hal to toss that police scanner in the trash,” I grumbled. “This isn’t the first
time they’ve jumped the gun with the wrong information.”

“I’ve begged him to get rid of it,” Lizzie said. “But he enjoys listening to it. He
works so hard, I want him to have his hobbies. I just hope he’s not living vicariously
through it.”

“I’m sure he’s not.” I sighed. Hal Logan was the most sensible man I knew. He balanced
out Lizzie perfectly. “He probably just likes to keep his finger on the pulse of things
around here.” I took a last gulp of coffee and refilled my cup with more. Not that
I needed more of a jolt than I’d already received from Lizzie’s numerous phone calls.

“Lately, the town has been hopping with action,” Lizzie said. “Hal feels like he’s
right in the middle of it all, thanks to the scanner.”

I could picture Hal getting excited about the latest buzz over the scanner. Lizzie’s
husband was a darling man and he loved his wife to distraction—which was how Lizzie
justified her relentless attempts to set us all up on blind dates. Their kind of true
love was out there for all of us.

But I digressed.

“Tell me every detail, Lizzie.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you blaming Hal for thinking Cliff was dead. It’s the EMT’s
fault for reporting that news in the first place.”

“Okay, but—”

“It took a while for them to report that they were able to revive Cliff. And now they
say he’s clinging to life.”

Clinging to life
is a heck of a lot better than
dead,
my guilty conscience assured me. Because, yes, I felt horribly guilty. Call me a
hypocrite, but I was praying that Cliff Hogarth would survive. I’d ranted and raged
in his face yesterday at lunch—in front of witnesses—and then later on to Denise.
And over the past month to anyone who would listen, really. Even Chief Jensen had
been subjected to my fuming tirades about Cliff.

I frowned at the thought. I was usually so even-tempered, but now I was tempted to
sign up for anger-management classes.

“I’ve got to get Callie to school,” I told Lizzie, after taking a look at the clock.
We hung up and I grabbed my stuff and went running outside to meet Callie.

I was surprised to see a sleepy-headed Mac waiting with his niece. “Do I have news
for you,” I said as he pushed open the gate and we walked to my truck.

He pulled open the passenger’s door. Callie settled inside the truck and immediately
started texting her friends.

Mac glanced at me from across the truck bed. “I think I might have bigger news.”

“So you heard that Cliff Hogarth almost died?”

“Yes. How’d you hear about it?”

“Lizzie called me.” I told him about Hal hearing it on the police scanner, and about
the multiple phone calls from Lizzie. “So now he’s clinging to life.”

Mac nodded. “Yeah. He’ll probably make it.”

“I’m glad, I guess.”

“You guess?” he said with amusement.

“Sorry. Yes, sure, I’m glad.”

He studied me. “What’s going on, Irish?”

I fiddled with the zipper of my down vest, feeling foolish. “I . . . I sort of threatened
him yesterday. In public.” I waved the incident away. “But I wouldn’t. I mean, I didn’t
follow through. I’m not a violent person, despite my occasional rant.”

“Of course you’re not.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks. So, how did you hear about Cliff?”

He circled around the truck to stand closer to me so we could speak more quietly.
It was still early enough to wake up some of our neighbors. “You know I’ve been doing
ride-alongs with the police to research my next book, right?”

My eyebrows perked up. “Oh, of course. So, you were with Eric? You must know everything.
What happened?”

Mac looked pleased by my enthusiasm. “We were just about to head back to the police
station when we got the call that Cliff Hogarth had been hurt.”

“Where was he?”

“He was out at that nursery you took me to.”

“I wonder what he was doing out there.”

“He went to talk to Denise Jones.”

“Why?”

“Brace yourself.”

“Oh no. Please don’t tell me they were having an affair.”

“No.” Mac looked over his shoulder, clearly making sure that Callie was paying no
attention to us. Of course, she wasn’t. A teenager with a phone couldn’t care less
what adults were doing. “He was trying to blackmail her.”

“Wh-what?” I felt my jaw drop. I knew Cliff was a horrible human being, but blackmailing
Denise? “Are you kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Oh my God. Poor Denise!” I paced in front of the truck. What could he possibly have
on Denise?
Not the point right now, Shannon,
I told myself. “Cliff is so awful. Just when I think he can’t stoop any lower, he
goes there. So, what happened exactly?”

“Denise was working late,” Mac said, setting the scene. “She had just dug out some
old flower beds and was rolling the trash barrels out to the parking lot to be emptied
in the morning. She was about to lock up the place when Hogarth showed up to talk.
Apparently she didn’t like what he had to say, because she ended up bashing him in
the head with her shovel.”

I had to lean against my truck to keep from falling over. This was all so hard to
believe. Even though Denise and I had both voiced our sincere disgust with Cliff Hogarth,
and even though I’d noticed how viciously she’d been pounding that shovel against
the ground that time I’d been at the nursery with Mac, I still couldn’t picture Denise
being so angry that she’d attack someone badly enough that they were now clinging
to life. “I can’t believe it. I’d just visited her a few hours earlier.”

“Did she have her shovel with her when you were there? Because that thing is lethal.”

Immediately I felt obliged to defend my friend. “
Any
shovel is lethal, not just Denise’s. And if Cliff was trying to blackmail her, she
must’ve hit him in self-defense.” I frowned, imagining it, then tried to brush it
off. “Besides, she didn’t kill him. He’s still alive. So, really, he’s lucky, because
he clearly had it coming.”

Mac’s eyebrows went up. “I think I like this tough-girl streak, Irish.”

I could feel my cheeks heating up at my bloodthirsty tone. “Is Denise okay?”

“She was hysterical,” Mac said. “I’ll try to remember everything she said, but it
got complicated.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Denise told Eric that Hogarth kept goading her about paying him money to keep quiet—she
never would say what it was exactly—and she finally got so angry, she started to swing
at him with whatever she had. It happened to be the shovel. Hogarth was able to grab
it and they tussled.” He shook his head and lowered his voice. “He pushed her down
and lifted the shovel to hit her. She thought she was about to die, but at the last
second she was able to roll out of the way and scramble to her feet. He got distracted
by that and it gave her time to grab the shovel back and bash him over the head.”

“Wow. She’s really strong.”

“I know. I saw those arms of hers, remember? Anyway, she said she finally managed
to swing the shovel blindly and nailed him in the head. He dropped like a big tree.”

I pressed my fingers against my mouth. I was shocked, of course, but also horrified
for several different reasons. “Poor Denise. Sorry, I just can’t bring myself to say
poor Cliff
. I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the nearly dead, but it’s hard to pretend I feel
bad for him.”

Mac raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, nobody deserves to be hit with a shovel, but he clearly provoked her. Pushed
her to the limit.” I slapped one hand on the truck fender. “Heck, he had me pushed
until I was a raving lunatic just yesterday. He has a gift for rubbing people the
wrong way.”

“Sounds like it.” Mac checked his wristwatch, then covered my hand with one of his.
I appreciated the show of comfort and solidarity. “Denise is being interrogated by
Eric right now, so I guess he’ll have to figure out whether it’s all justifiable or
not. My guess is that she’ll be released.”

“I hope so.”

“Think about it,” he said. “By the time she actually hit him with the shovel, it was
a case of fighting for her life.”

My mind narrowed in on one thing. “This must have something to do with Lily’s death.”

His eyes lit up and he gave my hand a squeeze before letting go. “Of course it does.
Let’s discuss.”

I had to laugh. Mac loved tossing around murder theories. It was more grist for the
mill. Or research for his books. “Okay,” I said. “Why would Cliff be blackmailing
Denise? She was Lily’s best friend.”

“Keep talking,” he said.

“So you never heard what it was about?”

“Nope.”

Bummer,
I thought. I’d have to theorize some more. “Okay. What if the two of them had been
fooling around behind Lily’s back?”

“Which two?”

“Cliff and Denise.” I made a face. “I can’t believe she would ever be interested in
him, but it could happen. So what if . . .”

“What if . . . ?” he prompted.

“Well, Cliff could’ve been threatening to tell Mr. Jones.” I frowned at that idea.
“But if they were having an affair back in high school, it’s all in the past. Why
would Mr. Jones care? This is weird.”

“Weird and wonderful,” he said, energized. “Let’s take Callie to school, then come
back home and I’ll interview you some more. This will be more great background for
my article.”

I sighed, torn between obligations and having fun. “I’d love to, but I really have
to work for a few hours. But I can come home at lunch and we can talk then. Does that
sound good to you?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

*   *   *

I drove Callie to school and talked to the guys for a while. They had everything under
control with the parking-lot demolition, so I jogged back to the truck and drove out
to the lighthouse mansion to work with Carla and her crew.

Carla greeted me with a look of puzzled concern on her face.

“What’s up?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Aldous Murch was here when I arrived first thing this morning.”

“Aldous? Did he drive himself?” I hoped not. The man was in his eighties and a little
too fragile to be driving his own car.

“He said he took the Northline bus.”

“The bus? Was he looking for me?”

“No.” Her forehead creased in worry. “That’s the weird thing. He stood right here
on the front porch and shouted that the truth needed to come to light. Then he pushed
me out of the way, marched into the house, and started climbing the stairs. He had
to stop on every step to catch his breath and was worn out by the second floor.”

“I hope you convinced him to go back downstairs.”

“Since he couldn’t breathe, it didn’t take much convincing. But while he was on the
second floor, he walked back and forth down the hall, stopping at every doorway, mumbling
about something. ‘It’s here somewhere,’ I think he was saying. And he kept coming
back to the stairway, kept staring up toward the attic.”

“The attic?”

“Yeah. I finally asked if he wanted me to look for something in the attic for him.”

My stomach started its nervous twitching again. “What did he say? Did he leave something
up there?”

“He wouldn’t tell me,” Carla said. “He continued to mumble to himself, so I finally
called his daughter, and she drove out to pick him up.”

“Good.” I shook my head, befuddled by Aldous’s strange behavior. What was he looking
for? And why was he staring up at the attic?

Those questions led me to wonder,
Did Aldous know Lily Brogan fifteen years ago? Had he seen her hiding out in the lighthouse
mansion?

“Oh, God.” Was it possible that Aldous had something to do with Lily’s murder? Impossible.
But I couldn’t let it go. Fifteen years ago, Aldous would’ve been in his late sixties.
Maybe he was frail now in his eighties, but he would’ve been a strong man back then.
Strong enough to pick up a woman and shove her inside a dumbwaiter? My mind started
spinning at the thought. It wasn’t possible, was it?

“Absolutely not,” I muttered immediately. I was grasping at straws. But a tiny niggling
doubt remained.

After all, from the very beginning when Mac first bought the mansion and then applied
to the Planning Commission to rehab the place, Aldous had been dogging the process.
Was the old man more concerned about the house itself or what we might discover inside?