Murder at Blackwater Manor (5 page)

She almost got up to leave with some made-up excuse, when she heard the small bell above the front door ring and someone walk in. She turned to see who it was and almost fell off her chair, seeing it was the Blackwaters’ maid. Her name, as far as Sage could remember, was Cecile. She was talking on her phone.

“…Just coming back from the sheriff’s office,” Cecile was saying as she perched herself on the barstool next to Sage and motioned for Dan to get her a coffee to go, “No, no, don’t worry, seriously. There’s no pointing fingers yet. Just had to answer a few questions… I know, me and my bad luck… I’m telling you, no need to worry… Great, I have a hair appointment, too! Five o’clock… Super, I’ll see you there then.”

Without even turning to look at Sage, Cecile grabbed the paper cup, threw some change on the counter and stormed off.

“Wow, what was
that
?” Sage said, offended on Dan’s behalf.

“She’s like that. She is not from here. I guess she never found it necessary to fit in.”

“You mean like me?”

“I mean way worse than you,” Dan winked at her. “Even though you still need a bit of work, at least you come in here and bark your commands. The woman doesn’t even have the decency to speak.”

Sage looked at him, with his sparkling, playful eyes and the slightly upturned corner of his lips and she thought she shouldn’t be so quick to write him off just because he was a man.

“I have to go,” she said, standing up and carefully placing her dollar bills in the designated tray, “Here, thanks for the coffee.”

“Are you on a mission again? Can’t sit still when there’s a murder case to solve?”

“No, of course not,” Sage said with a shrewd smile, “I know better than to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. It’s just my hair looks terrible these days and I think I need an urgent appointment at the salon.”

“Well, good luck,” he said, “Now that I look at it, it does need some work. Oh, and I won’t mind if you stop by to tell me what
you didn’t find out
later. Will give me a chance to admire your new hairstyle.”

“Good bye, Dan,” Sage walked towards the door to hide her grin.

“Good bye, Master Detective.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

White Lilies and Secret Intentions

The next stop on Sage’s agenda was the flower shop. She’d already secured a spot at 5:15 pm at the Mirror, Mirror beauty salon, which was right next door to The Cheshire Cat. Apparently Cecile had a meeting with a friend there at five, and if Sage was lucky enough to be seated anywhere close to the two ladies, it was impossible not to overhear the maid’s version of what had happened or at least something just as useful.

Sage was just reaching out for the handle on the flower shop’s door, when the door flung open and she bumped straight into a woman who was coming out in a rush. The two women clung to each other to steady themselves and then dropped to their knees when they realized the collision had caused a purse to spill its contents on the floor.

“Sage!” the woman said and for a second Sage was confused, but she quickly came to her senses. It was none other than Mrs. Blackwater. “I’m so sorry!”

“No, I’m sorry, Thea,” Sage said as she continued to stuff a hand mirror, lipsticks, a match box, a pill case and paper tissues into Mrs. Blackwater’s open purse. “I wasn’t looking. How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay, under the circumstances,” Thea panted as she struggled to her feet. Sage noticed her eyes were rimmed with red and she could only imagine how the older woman had spent the terrible night. “It’s good I have all these funeral arrangements to take care of or I don’t know… I would have gone crazy already.”

“Let us know if there is anything we could help with,” Sage said sympathetically.

“My dear girl, I’m so sorry that’s how we had to meet,” Thea said, already walking away, “Your sister’s already been tremendous help. I hope to see you again soon!”

After they exchanged goodbyes, Sage walked into the shop to find Prim buried behind a counter stuffed with buckets of white flowers. Oleanders, lilies, roses and hydrangeas exuded a sweet smell that was almost stifling.

“Sage!” Prim said, “Finally, I was hoping you’d stop by. I’m so sorry about the kitchen. I was…”

“Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of.”

“Really?” Prim froze as she was patting bright orange lily pollen off her shirt. “The dishes?”

“Everything,” Sage said with a smug smile. She was beyond proud of herself.

“Oh, you are an angel! I was just contemplating giving up on this flower business.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sage scolded, “It was just one morning and we didn’t exactly keep our bedtime last night. It will get easier, I’m sure of it. Plus, you always have me.”

“Thanks, honey, really,” Prim said and only now Sage noticed just how tired her sister looked. “I didn’t expect my first orders to be from a dead man and then from his wife for his funeral. I wonder it that’s bad luck.”

“Please, stop it. It’s flowers, it’s not bad luck. What would you do with bucketfuls of white lilies if it wasn’t for sympathy flower orders?”

“Sage! Stop it,” Prim looked indignant.

“You are right, sorry. What did you think of Mrs. Blackwater? How did she seem to you? I just ran into her at the door.”

“What do you expect? She’s not herself with grief. I wish Ben didn’t have to call her to the station, but he can’t help it. It’s protocol. It’s where she’s headed right now actually.”

“Do we have to go at some point?”

“I don’t think so,” Prim said, “It turns out Thea saw us when we were going into the bathroom when she was going to the kitchen to fetch a cup of tea to take to her husband upstairs, and then everyone else saw us coming out when we all heard the scream. I think if Ben needs any more information, he can just ask us at home. He’ll have a crazy busy day as it is, and I doubt he’s slept much at the station last night.”

“That’s good, but Prim?” Sage said tentatively, “Don’t be mad, but I did something.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve tried to run your own investigation again.”

Prim started taking the buckets off the counter and sneezed at yet another tiny cloud of pollen that rose from the lilies. Sage immediately joined her in taking the heavy loads over to the huge walk-in cooler in the back. The flower shop had its own carefully controlled climate and soon beads of sweat emerged over both sister’s temples.

“No, I got a hair appointment,” Sage said innocently.

“That’s good,” Prim said, relieved, “I was wondering when you were going to do that.”

“Why does everyone keep hinting, no wait,
saying
to my face that I look awful and must do something about my hair immediately?” She stroked her raven black ponytail lovingly.

“Who’s everyone?”

“Nevermind. So, it turns out, Mrs. Blackwater’s maid is also having a hair appointment around that time. Can you imagine?”

“It just
turns out
?” Prim laughed. “Admit it, you won’t sit still until you figure out what really happened last night.”

“Fine. I overheard her and made the same appointment. What’s so bad about that?”

“Nothing,” Prim shrugged, “I just want you to be careful this time. Remember we were there and whoever is capable of murder out of the people who were with us last night might as well be capable of framing someone else for it. You don’t want to be in anyone’s bad books.”

“You’re right. I swear I’ll be careful. It’s just, I can’t help thinking that it happened right in front of us. It’s probably really obvious who did it. It’s just we can’t see it yet.”

“Don’t you think you should just let Ben do his job?”

“I think I should help him any way I can, even if he doesn’t necessarily know that I’m helping him.”

“And I think you should start thinking of finding a real job, so you don’t get yourself in trouble.”

“Ouch,” Sage wrinkled her nose, “Right where it hurts, sister.”

“Sorry, honey, you know it’s coming from a good place. I know how frustrating it must be for you when you are so used to always thinking and thinking.”

“I could always just open up a private detective practice,” Sage said after the sting of her sister’s words had passed.

“Right, because there’s so much to investigate around here…”

“Don’t tell me there isn’t. Just in the few short months I’ve been here, there have been two murders already. And what about all the cheating husbands and wives and all the stolen garden gnomes?”

Prim giggled and started running her index finger down the list of orders, figuring out what she needed to do next. She located a centerpiece for an afternoon tea party at Mrs. Haigwood, the town’s pharmacist, together with instructions on colors and main types of flowers.

“So what now?” she asked her sister who was now sitting idly on a chair, swinging her feet back and forth, lost in thought.

“Now I need more solved cases for my portfolio to impress my future clients.”

“Aren’t you confident! Alright, can I help?”

“No, not yet. You learn how to handle a house
and
a flower shop now and I’ll go get myself a new hairstyle. But before that, I think I’ll need to check out a few books from the library.”

“Really? Oh, I envy you right now. What I wouldn’t do for a few quiet hours with a good book at home.”

“You don’t understand, Prim,” Sage winked, “It’s my cover. I’m paying Mrs. Bluebird a visit.”

“You are wicked. Go, go, get out of here,” Prim said, waving her hands as if to shoo her sister away. “I hope at least your new job proves less exhausting than mine.”

“I won’t be having a new job if I can’t help solve this case, remember?”

“Fine, good luck, honey!”

On her way out, Sage accidentally kicked a piece of scrunched paper that someone had thrown in front of the door. She hated littering and shoved the small piece of garbage in her hoodie’s front pocket. She’d toss it in a garbage bin when she came across one.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Old Papers and an Unexpected Phone Call

As she was passing through the alarm sensors built in the library doors that didn’t let you sneak out an unchecked book, Sage looked at her watch. It was 3:40 pm. If she hurried, she could make her appointment at the Mirror, Mirror just in time for Cecile’s arrival.

The Rosecliff public library was nothing impressive on the outside. It was a single-floor, red brick building in the shape of an ‘n’ with its two wings. It was located right next to the school and had a beautifully maintained front yard with neatly mowed green grass and a pair of bright orange maple trees that guarded the entrance on each side. The white pebble path that led to the front doors through the lawn was flanked with lines of large yellow rocks brought over from the beach.

The inside was dark, warm and cozy and Sage felt as if she’d stepped into a vintage bookshop. There were none of the bright neon lights, the vast empty spaces and the aluminum shelving that she was used to in her enormous university library. There was also no fancy computer lab or a complex electronic book browsing system. If you needed a specific book, you either turned to the librarian, or used the old-fashioned index card system that listed each title and its topic and location. Thousands of these index cards were stuck in tiny drawers in the large wooden cabinet that stood next to the librarian’s desk.

Currently there was someone being helped out at the front desk, so Stage stood at a tactful distance behind him to wait her turn. It was an old gentleman, who was checking out a few of today’s papers and fishing and hunting magazines. Sage could already hear the pleasant melodic voice of Mrs. Bluebird politely guiding her customer through the checkout process, though she couldn’t see her yet.

“How can I help you?” Mrs. Bluebird said mechanically without looking up from her book.

“Hello,” Sage started and Anabelle looked up immediately.

“Sage! How lovely to see you here,” she chirped. Everyone seemed ecstatic to see Sage today.

Anabelle Bluebird was a petite woman of around forty-five with an almost doll-like face and a generous bust line. Her luscious chestnut hair fell in smooth waves down her shoulders and her large brown eyes gave her a mild, honest expression. Though she had taken great care with her make-up before she’d come to work, Sage could see her eyes were still puffy under the concealer as if she hadn’t slept too much or she’d been crying.

“Mrs. Bluebird…” Sage started.

“Please, call me Anabelle,” the woman said and closed her book, placing a few papers to mark her spot. “It’s so awful what happened last night. I can’t wrap my mind around it yet.”

“I know,” Sage said, “I didn’t know Mr. Blackwater closely, but I know you’ve lost a long-time friend and I’m sorry.”

For a moment Anabelle looked as if she might start crying again, but she took a hold of herself and stood up.

“Would you like to sit down? I have some lemonade in the back office if you are not in a hurry…”