Lethal Dose of Love (40 page)

Chapter 47

Payton leaned deep in the crook of Aden’s arm, the length of their naked bodies pressed together on his couch. Comfortable and secure. She laid her hand on his chest, palm flat, soaking up his strength. Last night, after the removal of Mamie’s body, the investigation was deemed complete. The motive had been listed as a “disagreement over a vacant store,” but Payton knew there was a lot more to it.

Just after the clock chimed midnight, she got the courage to ask him where he’d been for more than a week. He gave a small chuckle. “Scared out of my mind, that’s where. Payton, I’m forty-nine years old. Till now, I’ve managed, whether by choice or fate, to remain unencumbered by a serious relationship. Then you came along and in a heartbeat, I found myself planning our future. I thought for sure I’d gone insane. I took some time off from my job and went to London. I thought you’d be able to reach me if you had an emergency. Believe me, I had no idea the phone didn’t work.” He stopped and took a breath. “To think of what you went through all alone. I’ll never forgive myself.”

He’d carried her to the bedroom, then, and laid her on the cool, soft sheets. Then he crawled in beside her. They spent the rest of the night that way.

When Aden’s clock proclaimed 7 a.m. she flew into a sitting position, bringing Aden wide awake. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered something.”

“Don’t talk,” he said.

But she continued, this time in a whisper, “Sean’s aunt gave me a box.”

Hearing her mistress’ voice, Maggie popped her head from under the blankets on Aden’s other side. He helped her to the floor and got out of bed.

“I’ll get it. I need Maggie’s litter box too,” Payton whispered and began dressing. “Maybe there’s something that’ll help us figure out why Mamie murdered Sean. It wasn’t because he cheated her out of the store; I’m sure of it.” She sat on the bed to put on her shoes.

Aden slipped into his robe. “What first put you on to Mamie?”

“Something people said kept rattling around in my brain. First, Amanda left my open house because Edward had work to do on the dock and they couldn’t leave the store unattended. Later Mamie said someone could’ve substituted the forged Commodore painting because Amanda and Edward ‘are always leaving the place unattended.’ Another time she told me she never goes to the marina, had never even been inside their shop. None of the statements are telling in themselves.”

“But combined…”

“That night I think she waited around for the docks to be empty, but everyone was there until quite late preparing their boats for the race.”

“She must’ve overheard the argument between Sean and Edward.”

Payton finished tying her shoes. “I’ll be right back.”

“You’re not going alone. We’ll take Maggie so she can use her box.”

Moments later, at her kitchen table, Payton dug into the cardboard box. Only four envelopes remained. The dates read September 1, 1996, April 10, 2003, June 4, 2004, and June 8, 2004. The two June dates had to be related to Payton, and she left them for the time being.

Recalling that Donald had died ten years previously, Payton selected one dated 1996 and opened it, saying a short prayer that it would contain a motive, a sort of closure for the whole dreadful event. Aden read over her shoulder, digging his chin in the spot at the corner of her neck. It hurt, but she didn’t ask him to stop. The envelope was thicker than the others. It contained several sheets of handwritten notes and two invoices. The invoices were copies of ones she’d found in other envelopes. With a sinking heart, she unfolded the pages of notes. Suddenly Payton knew what had happened. And she knew why Mamie had felt it so necessary to murder Sean Adams.

Payton pieced things together for Aden. “Sean was always looking for ways to make an easy buck. Donald had been dead about a year. Mamie was just coming out of her grief. Claire talked her into following her dream of opening an art gallery, but Donald had left her broke and she had no way to come up with the money. Sean probably heard them talking. Whatever. That part doesn’t matter. He got the bright idea to give her the money in exchange for one copy of a painting he had.”

“The Commodore?” Aden asked.

“No, a Church.”

“But.”

“She desperately wanted the shop and did as he asked.”

“But.”

“But he didn’t stop at one.”

“Payton.”

“What?”

“Are you forgetting? Mamie was a terrible painter.”

She continued, undaunted, “How hard it must have been for Mamie to hide her talent all those years. All the horrible water colors she produced just so no one would catch on if anything came to light about the forgeries.”

Aden kissed Payton’s cheek. “You are a genius.”

“I wonder what pushed her to kill him though. This has been going on for years.”

“When he screwed that empty shop out from under her she snapped.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know what turned her onto the monkshood. Maybe I have to take some of the blame. One day we girls were talking about poisonous plants and maybe it gave her the idea.

“I was at Claire’s house last Sunday when Mamie arrived. Claire and I had been talking about Sean and she was crying. Mamie asked what was wrong and Claire lied. Claire’s not a good liar. I bet Mamie’s guilt got the better of her and she assumed I’d just told Claire her whole secret.”

“And she decided to kill you.”

“Then burn the café so Claire couldn’t reopen Sean’s restaurant.” Payton folded the documents and put them in the box.

“I’d better call the police.”

While Aden dialed, Payton said, her voice very scratchy, “She was so strong. To be able to hide her talent all those years. To not say anything when people so obviously disliked her work. To not protest when I bypassed one of her paintings for
Ocaso
. To not show her guilt for killing Frank along with Sean.”

Aden hung up the phone. “How do you know she regretted that?”

“Because of something she said the day after the murder. We were in my shop. Of course Sean was the topic of everyone’s conversation. Helen offered to let Mamie rent the vacant shop. Since Sean was dead, their contract became void. Mamie said, ‘I don’t think I’d be able to go in there, knowing what I do about this.’ At the time we put it down to stress and sorrow, but…”

Aden nodded and moved the box onto the counter.

“I remembered something else. Amanda once referred to Felicia as Felicia Ann Marie Dawson Featherstone. I bet she’s the Ann on that invoice. I bet her painting is also a forgery.”

“Easy enough to check.” He pulled a chair close and sat with his knees touching her leg. “Now, to happier topics.” He adjusted his chair a little to the right. The heat of his thighs seared into hers.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

For several moments, the only sound in the place was the crunch of Maggie chewing cat food.

Payton took a breath and let it out very slowly. “I can’t.”

Aden didn’t speak.

So she continued. “Since I met you my head’s been in a turmoil. I recognize there’s something special between us. I don’t know how much of my past you know. I’m sure it’s well documented in those last two envelopes. I came to Sackets Harbor to escape memories of my husband’s murder—that’s what causes the nightmares. I realized recently that escaping wasn’t what I needed to do.” She fumbled her hands on the table. “I have to come to grips with Cameron’s death before I can commit to another relationship.”

“I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do. Aden, I’m leaving town. I’m moving home to Virginia to be with my family. It’s where I need to be right now.”

Sergeant Espinoza’s car turned in Aden’s driveway. Aden rose. “I’ll go let him in.”

She got up and stared out at the water. What if she just dumped the money Cameron left? Gave it all to charity. The old proverb that money didn’t buy happiness was so true. Actually money was the reason for all her problems.

She recalled the first time she’d seen Aden coming out of the bookstore carrying a bag she later learned held John Grisham and Robert Ludlum’s latest releases. He wore a brushed twill coat and hat. Few people wore hats any more, but he managed it beautifully, setting it at a jaunty angle atop his salt-and-pepper hair. Payton let her mind watch him, distinguished and very sexy, stride down the sidewalk and get into his car. Her insides twitched at the memory.

A word about the author...

Cindy Davis resides in the green/white/brown—depending on the season—state of New Hampshire where she spends most of her time at the computer either editing or writing. When she’s finally released upon society, to autograph her latest book, do a talk, or research the next in the Angie Deacon series—heaven help the people she meets. Shutting her up becomes tantamount to stopping a volcano!

Personally, she’s addicted to coffee—particularly raspberry/chocolate flavor. And don’t anyone dare get between her and her life-loves Ben & Jerry. Other than that, she’s pretty laid back. You’d have to be, with 11 kids and 33 grandkids.

~*~

You can learn more about Cindy and her writing at

www.cdavisnh.com, www.fiction-doctor.com

~*~

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