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Authors: Elizabeth J. Duncan

Murder on the Hour (22 page)

BOOK: Murder on the Hour
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Penny gathered up the things she would need, and Victoria filled a small bowl with hot water from a special tap that dispensed water for beverages. It was hot, but with a couple of ice cubes dropped in, the water temperature was perfect.

“If you wouldn't mind, we'll just set that on a little tray so if any water is spilled it won't get on the floor,” said Heather.

The room had that just-cleaned smell of old-fashioned beeswax mixed with the fragrance from a large bowl of white roses embellished with sprigs of lavender and baby's breath. The door leading to the garden stood open and a warm, gentle breeze drifted in, carrying with it the sweet scent of more flowers.

“What a beautiful bouquet!” exclaimed Penny.

“Oh, I'm glad you like it,” said Heather. “I've been trying out different looks for Jessica's bridal bouquet and she decided on that one. Well, that's not her bouquet, that's in the fridge in the flower room. She also wanted a sprig of rosemary tucked into it.”

Victoria retrieved a business magazine from her bag and settled in to read as Penny began work on Heather's manicure. A feminine peacefulness settled over the room; the only sound was birdsong that drifted in through the open French doors.

When the first coat of nail varnish in a dusty rose colour had been applied, Heather stood up and stretched her arms out. “I'm sorry,” she said, “I'd just like to run upstairs and see how Jessica's getting on and then I've got a couple of calls to make. I'm a little worried that the cake hasn't been delivered yet and the bridesmaids should be arriving any minute. Have a wander round the garden, if you like, and whilst you're at it, you can check to see if the marquee is going up properly!”

Penny started to say something, but Heather interrupted her. “Yes, I'll be very careful with the nails. Won't touch anything. Promise.” She bustled out of the room just as the doorbell rang.

“That'll be the cake, I expect,” said Victoria.

“I was going to ask her if it would be all right if I went upstairs with her. I'd like to see how Eirlys is getting on, too.”

“Well, catch her up,” said Victoria. “She's probably just in the front hall with the cake people.”

Alone in the room, Victoria wandered over to Penny's watercolour painting and admired it for a few moments, her hand resting on top of a small pile of books on a small bureau. Idly, she picked up the top book, a lavishly illustrated history of the garden at Buckingham Palace, and began flipping through it. Holding it, she strolled to the open doorway to admire the garden that stretched down to the river, with panoramic views to the hills beyond.

The room opened onto a broad terrace with a stone balustrade. She stepped onto the terrace, which ran the full length of the back of the house and from which shallow steps descended to an area featuring several beds of lavender, with gravel paths between them. A perennial border in pastel shades of pink and mauve plantings graced a stone wall that flanked one side of the sweeping lawn that sloped down toward the river.

The marquee was being set up on a broad expanse of lawn at the far end of the garden but she didn't think she had time to walk that far to check on its progress. She stepped back inside the house and turned a few more pages in the book, then replaced it on the bureau and picked up the other one:
The Elements of Organic Gardening
by the Prince of Wales. As she riffled the pages, soft footsteps in the hall suggested Penny or Heather might be back, so she put the book down just as Evan Hughes entered the room. He was wearing his farmer's clothes, but had removed his boots and was in his stocking feet. He had his work cut out for him to get cleaned up in time for his daughter's wedding, but Victoria had a feeling he'd scrub up rather well.

He glanced at the desk, and then looked at Victoria.

“Looking for my wife.”

“She was seeing to the cake, so try the kitchen, maybe?” said Victoria. He made a light grunting noise of acknowledgement and disappeared. Victoria returned to the doorway and once again enjoyed the garden view. A minute or so later Penny returned. “The cake arrived but there's a problem with it, so Heather went upstairs to fetch Jessica. All hell's breaking loose in the kitchen.”

“What's the matter?” asked Victoria.

“Apparently the decoration isn't exactly what Jessica was expecting, so the cake decorator is on her way over to fix it.” She sat down. “And then Alberto arrived and needs to get on with Jessica's hair because he's got a full schedule of appointments lined up for this afternoon. I told Heather she should get back in here so I can finish her manicure.”

“And Eirlys?” asked Victoria, preparing to leave.

“She stayed upstairs.”

“Well, we have to make sure Alberto gets out of here on time. I'll let Heather know that if he can't get started on Jessica in the next ten minutes or so, he'll have to leave. We're on a schedule, too.”

“Weddings, eh? Because you can never have too much stress.”

*   *   *

“How are you feeling now?” asked Victoria after they'd dropped off Eirlys.

“Fine. I'm not the one who drank a bit too much last night. How are you feeling?”

“Felt pretty rough for a while there first thing this morning, I'll admit that,” said Victoria. “But I'm okay now. What I meant was, how are you feeling now about the Michael thing?”

“I'll admit I was really attracted to him and definitely starting to fall for him,” said Penny, “so I'm glad Bethan found out he was married. Makes me think, though. I bet he tries it on with a lot of the young women around the university. I didn't think profs did that sort of thing anymore.”

“They shouldn't,” said Victoria. “It's an abuse of a position of trust.”

Penny didn't reply so Victoria continued.

“I really hate that he was so deceptive. I've been asking myself what kind of man does that?”

“I guess he was hoping for an affair,” Penny shrugged. “Some men are like that, probably more than we'd like to think. There's that Web site married men go to if they're looking for an affair.”

“They deserve a comeuppance,” Victoria said, “and I've been thinking about that and had an idea. You're not the kind of person who would key his car or rip up his clothes and throw them in the street.”

Penny laughed. “No, I'm not. And we only went out a couple of times, so that seems really extreme.”

“It does. So I thought maybe we could be a little more devious. We could send his wife a gift certificate to the Spa, she'd tell him she was going to spend the morning here, and he'd be beside himself with worry that you might say something to her.” She glanced at Penny. “Would you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But you were happy to know what he was like, why wouldn't his wife be?”

“Well, first, I think she already knows, because he's probably been like this for their whole marriage, however long that is, and second, I just don't want to be the one to tell her.”

“So you don't like my idea?”

“No. Honestly, I just can't be bothered. And if I engage in something like that, it keeps me connected to him.” She spread her fingers on both hands and intertwined them. “Like this. And besides, revenge just isn't my thing. I've already started to move on and I just want to keep moving. Sooner or later, karma will take care of him.”

 

Thirty-one

Finally, after the retirement party the night before and the morning spent working the Hughes wedding, Penny had a chance to telephone Tegwen Driscoll and ask if she could come and see her. “It's about your scarf,” Penny said.

Tegwen met her at the door with a smile and held out her hand. “Oh, thanks so much for dropping it off,” she said. “Very good of you. It's a favourite of mine. I misplaced it a little while ago and couldn't think where I'd left it, and it finally occurred to me I must have left it at your Spa.”

“I don't have it, I'm afraid,” said Penny. “But I think I know where it is.”

“You'd better come in, then.”

A deep frown creased Tegwen's face as she showed Penny in. She did not invite her into the sitting room, but stood in the hall, arms folded. “Well?” she said.

“Are the colours green and blue in your scarf?” Penny asked. Tegwen nodded. “And who made it?” Penny asked.

“It's a Liberty.”

“Then I can tell you where it is. It's in Catrin Bellis's bedroom.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I saw it there recently when I went through the house with a police officer, and if you want it back, you're going to have to contact them. I can tell you who to speak to.”

Tegwen's shoulders slumped and she waved a hand in the direction of the sitting room.

“I don't have much time because the girls will be back soon and I don't want them to know anything about this,” Tegwen said.

“About what?”

Tegwen clasped her hands in her lap and rubbed them lightly together.

“I thought Catrin was having an affair with Brad. I asked her about it a little while ago and she got very huffy. Denied it. And then I didn't really hear from her again, so I thought the reason she was binning me was because of Brad. That she couldn't keep on seeing him, and be friends with his wife, too, at the same time. That would be too, I don't know there's a word for it. Not dishonest, but sounds a bit like that.”

“Duplicitous?”

“That's it. I saw it in a self-help book.”

“You know, Tegwen, I don't know if your husband is or was having an affair, and I really hope not. I know how devastating that would be. But if, and it's a big if, I don't think it was with Catrin. And I hope you'll let go of these thoughts about her, because it's not fair to her reputation or memory, and it poisons all the years of a wonderful friendship that you two shared.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Her eyes began to fill with tears and she clasped her hands together in her lap and rocked slightly forward. “And so I haven't been able to grieve her death properly.”

They remained silent for a moment, and then Penny spoke.

“So tell me. You went to see her. When did you go?”

“Friday evening. The night before the Antiques show. After dinner. We talked for a little bit and I confronted her again about Brad. And again, she denied it. She was quite cold about it, as if she couldn't understand why I was so upset. I wanted to believe her but someone told me she'd seen Brad talking to Catrin in the town square and then he's out that evening saying he's with a client and a bit flustered and in a really bad mood when he gets home.”

“So you assumed he was with her?”

Tegwen nodded.

“I was always so afraid he'd leave me for her. It's been a big cloud hanging over our marriage. He always preferred her but her parents wouldn't let him court her, as we used to say, so he settled for me.” She scoffed. “Can you imagine? Living a whole marriage feeling like second best? And then when her parents died and she started to come out of her shell, and transformed herself into a really nice-looking woman, well…”

“Your feelings of jealousy intensified.”

Tegwen nodded. “Yeah. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something going on between them. Maybe I'll never know, for sure. And now it's too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“I want so badly to tell her how sorry I am and I can't. Because she's not here anymore.”

Before Penny could respond, the front door opened and a youthful, girlish voice called out.

“Mum, we're home and we've got Lili with us!” Laughing and chattering, the three girls clattered up the stairs. Their footsteps faded away at the sound of a closing door.

Tegwen sighed and reached for a tissue. “I'd better pull myself together. They'll be wanting a snack soon.”

 

Thirty-two

“Hi, it's me,” said the voicemail message on Penny's phone later that afternoon. “I know it's short notice, but I wondered if I could take you to dinner this evening. I've spent the day reviewing Bethan's case notes.”

Rather to her surprise, Penny found herself looking forward to dinner with Gareth. His kindness the night before had been just what she needed, when she needed it, and something seemed different about him. He looked more relaxed, more approachable. Maybe her recent experience with Michael had helped her see him in a different way. He picked her up just after seven and they drove the short distance into town.

“How did the wedding preparations go this morning?” he asked.

“Oh, fine. Just the usual last-minute panic. Bridesmaids in a flap and everybody running up and the down the stairs shouting, ‘Has anybody seen my eyeliner? Can somebody do these buttons up?' The cake wasn't right, the mother changed her mind about the flowers. The bride isn't very girly, she's part of the local horsey set, so I think she went along with some of the arrangements just to please her mother.”

“Who's her mother?” Davies asked.

“Heather Wynne Hughes. Married to Evan, local farmer. Beautiful home. Lots of money there.”

“There usually is, when horses are involved.”

The Italian restaurant was crowded but they were shown to a table and handed menus. After a brief discussion, they gave their order to the waiter and Davies poured each of them a glass of cold, crisp white wine.

“I'm not going to discuss the Catrin Bellis case with you here, because it's too public,” he said in a soft voice, “but at some point soon I would like to have your thoughts. The higher ups want to see this case wrapped and I don't have a lot of time.”

“I don't really have any thoughts,” said Penny. “Or what thoughts I do have are all over the place. But I keep coming back to that map. I think her murder is linked to the map but I just don't see how. It would really help if we could decode it. Dorothy suggested it might lead to something hidden or buried.”

BOOK: Murder on the Hour
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