03 Murder by Mishap (2 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Young

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As Peg returned her gaze to the brooch, her eyes took on a faraway look, and instead of answering, she seemed to drift off into thought. 

After nearly a minute of watching and waiting for a reply, Edna broke the lengthening silence. “If the clasp is damaged, the brooch probably fell off when your mother was working in the garden, don’t you think?” More memories flashed through her mind. “As I remember, she was often tending beautiful rose bushes along that side of the fence.”

“Mother loved roses best, I think. At any rate, she spent more time in that patch than in any of the other gardens. The smell of roses still takes me back to my childhood. We had vases full, all over the house.” Peg’s face brightened as she smiled. “There’ll be rose bushes along that entire stretch again. I’ve decided to put the gardens back the way Mother had them. I should never have agreed to turn everything into lawn when Joey and I were married, but then we traveled so
much,
there just wasn’t time to work in the yard.”

Peg’s face seemed to soften when she spoke of her first husband. Just as quickly, the look disappeared as she tightened her fingers over the pin. “I was cleaning out the closet in one of the back bedrooms this winter and found an old hat box pushed way back on the top shelf. It was filled with photographs, mostly black and white that Father must have taken because Mother was in so many of them. Looking through those pictures and seeing the joy on Mother’s face, even when she was working in the kitchen garden, made me want to restore everything. Stephen agreed it would be a good project for me, since he’s been increasingly tied up with bank business lately. As a matter of fact, it was he who found
Goran
to help me.
Goran’s
been preparing the beds. I wonder why he didn’t see this. It must have surfaced when he was tilling.”  She took the brooch between thumb and forefinger and held it up to the light from a fan-shaped window above the front door.

“I suppose turning the soil brought it to the surface, but it must still have been covered with dirt. The morning’s cloudburst washed it clean,” Edna theorized. “Luckily the sun struck it just as I was passing or it might have gotten stepped on and buried again.”

“What is today?” Peg looked down, frowning in thought for a second or two before answering her own question. “April twelfth. Mother lost this brooch on April fifteenth, the year I graduated from high school, so that was, what ... almost exactly fifty years ago.” Peg raised her eyebrows as if amazed at the coincidence. 

Edna was about to ask how Peg remembered the exact date and who
was
this
Cherisse
person, when she heard a door open and the sound of footsteps crossing the foyer. 

“What’s all this?” a male voice demanded above Edna’s head.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Edna felt Stephen Bishop standing over her. She would have to tip back her head in order to actually see him, but she refused to strain her neck or her back to do so.

“Hello, Stephen,” she said, looking at Peg.

“Edna? Margaret?” He spoke their names as questions.

The women looked at each other for several seconds as Edna waited for Peg to say something. She suspected Peg was waiting for her to speak.

Stephen Bishop was Peg’s second husband. For the past two years, ever since Peg’s wedding, Edna had been trying to figure out why she couldn’t warm up to the man. She didn’t think it was solely because she and Albert, her own husband, had been close friends with Joey
Luccianello
. Edna hoped she and Albert were more charitable than to resent Peg’s remarrying, but Stephen was as different from Peg’s first husband as two men could be. Joey, impetuous and easy-going, had almost never been serious. Stephen, on the other hand, was perpetually solemn.  In fact, Edna couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him show much emotion—no joy or sorrow, no hope or despair. She wondered again what her witty, fun-loving friend saw in him.

Joey had been a speculator. The only son of wealthy parents and youngest of three children, he had been pampered and spoiled by both his parents and his older sisters.

Stephen was an only child, as Peg had been, but came from a poor family. Struggling to bring himself up in the world, he was now majority owner of a small, private banking establishment.  Stephen’s first wife died the year after their daughter graduated from college and left home for a job in New York City. He’d been married and widowed twice since then, having lost his third wife the year before he met Peg. Edna and Albert had wondered, only between themselves, of course, if the wives had all died of boredom. On a more somber side, they rarely mentioned that each wife had been extremely wealthy, a circumstance that had allowed Stephen to achieve controlling interest in the bank.

“Ladies?”
His insistent question broke into her thoughts as he moved into view on her left. Peg, still sitting in the chair to Edna’s right, looked up at her prim husband.

“Ed’s hurt her back. Lying on the hard floor is making her feel better. She’ll be up in a minute or two, won’t you, Ed?” Peg glanced back down as she spoke.

Catching the twinkle in her friend’s eyes and the quiver of her lips, Edna felt like a mischievous school girl again and was horrified to realize she was about to burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Peg apparently saw the signs herself for she turned away, looking over her shoulder toward the dining room.

“I found a brooch in your garden.” Edna would have explained further, but for a sudden, sharp pain just above her knee. Had Peg kicked her?

“Really?”
The single word burst with interest, unusual for Stephen. “A brooch, you say?”

“Just an old thing Mother lost years ago,” Peg replied, cutting her eyes at her husband before frowning down at Edna and giving an imperceptible shake of her head. All Peg’s gaiety was gone, replaced by ... what? Was it worry?
Anger?
Fear?
The look vanished before Edna could decide.

 “May I see it, Margaret?” Stephen held out a hand, palm upward. It was one of the things Edna disliked most about Stephen—his insistence on always using his wife’s formal name.
No give to the man at all
, she thought, watching the exchange between husband and wife with growing curiosity. They were acting almost like strangers. She lay still, waiting for the scene to play out.

Peg displayed the pin in her palm, but out of her husband’s reach before she tightened her fist around the jewel. “Father had it made for Mother’s birthday. I haven’t seen it for fifty years, so I’d like to keep it with me for now. A day or two,” she added, as if in compromise.

“You know I like to keep our valuables at the bank. I want to ascertain if that piece is too expensive to be lying around the house.”

“Of course I won’t leave it ‘lying around’,” Peg snapped, her eyes flashing.

At that moment, the sound of someone clearing his throat drew their attention to the front door. From her vantage point, Edna saw a man who looked to be of medium height, although from floor level, she found it hard to tell exactly how tall he was. What wasn’t hard to determine was that he had a sturdy build and a thick mop of brown hair. Dark brown eyes stared boldly from beneath fine brows and his face was clean-shaven. From the mud-spattered, navy coverall he wore, Edna judged that this was the gardener who had assisted in her rescue. 

“’
Scuse
me, sir,”
Goran
Pittlani
spoke in his low, clear voice. “I was wondering if you want me to finish tilling along the fence or start on the kitchen garden in back? Ginny has been nagging me to plant lettuce. What do you say?”

Thinking it was a rather weak reason for the interruption and wondering how long the hired help had been standing at the front door listening to them, Edna was surprised when Stephen replied in an almost subdued manner. Was his arrogance reserved only for women?

“My wife is the authority when it comes to the grounds.” Turning to Peg, he raised an eyebrow. “Margaret?” 

When his attention had been momentarily distracted, Edna had caught a motion to her right and flicked her eyes in time to see Peg slip the brooch into a pocket of her slacks.
Out of sight, out of mind
, Edna wondered before she glanced back at the gardener who was also looking at Peg with raised eyebrows.

Impertinent
, Edna thought as Peg responded to the gardener. “That will be fine,
Goran
. Start on the kitchen garden. The other plots can wait until Virginia’s vegetables and herbs are in.”

With only a slight nod to acknowledge the order,
Goran
turned on his heel and headed out the way he’d come.
How the world has changed since Peg’s mother’s day
, Edna thought, watching the front door close with a loud click. Mrs.
Graystocking’s
gardener would never have entered through the front door and without even knocking.

Stephen’s interest returned to his wife. He studied her silently, apparently waiting for her to give him the brooch, although he didn’t go so far as to hold out his hand again. 

After what seemed an interminable pause, Peg, who had been watching the front door as if wishing it would open again, finally returned his stare. Whatever humor had been left of the morning was gone. 

“I am going to keep Mother’s pin with me for now, Stephen,” she spoke defiantly. “This is not a matter of worth. It’s a matter of sentiment. You might not understand, but I wish to have something of Mother’s, something personal, that I can touch and look at whenever I feel like it.  You have all the other jewelry. I want this.”

“You can examine and touch everything we have at the bank, anytime. You know that.”

“Visiting possessions in a vault is not the same as having them here at home. Occasionally, I’d like to try something on with an outfit. If it doesn’t suit, I’d like the opportunity to pick out something else, without having to traipse to the bank. I don’t want to have to remember what was in Mother’s or my collection that might go with a particular dress or blouse. I want the option of changing my mind about what I might wear. Why can’t you understand that?” Peg’s voice broke slightly with her last words.

“You’re becoming emotional, Margaret. Pull yourself together. We will discuss this in my office ... privately.” This last was spoken with the briefest of glances at Edna.

She was certain Peg did not want to discuss the matter any further, but she heard her say, “I do not want to leave Edna lying alone in our foyer. I’ll go ask Virginia to come out here.”

“What difference does it make if she lies here alone or not?” He sounded annoyed at the delay.

“The difference is she might have a back spasm, if nothing worse.” Peg drew a deep breath before adding more calmly. “If you need to get to the bank, we can discuss Mother’s brooch another time.”

“Oh, very well.
Go get Virginia. I’ll be in my office, but I don’t have all day, Margaret. I want to settle this before I leave.”

He must have turned his back because Edna saw Peg stick out her tongue. They both suppressed laughter as Peg glanced down at Edna and winked before heading off toward the kitchen.

Thank goodness, a spark of humor had returned.
What
was it
about this morning that sent both of us back to our college days
, Edna wondered. Was it the absurdity of her getting stuck in the fence or was it Stephen’s stiff, headmaster attitude that had them feeling like rebellious young girls? Lying on her back in the middle of the Bishops’ entryway, she could not decide.

Peg returned a few minutes later with Virginia Hoxie, a large, plain-looking woman who had been working for the
Graystockings
ever since Edna had known Peg.

“Hello, Virginia,” Edna greeted the woman from her position on the floor as if nothing were amiss.

“My goodness, Mrs. Davies.”
Virginia gaped. “What have you gone and done to yourself?”

“Just a little back strain.
I’ll be right as rain very soon.”

Peg motioned to the chair she had earlier brought from the dining room.  “Sit here, Virginia, and entertain Ed while I go speak with Stephen, will you? I shouldn’t be long, but if she begins to feel worse in any way, come and get me immediately.”

“Right you are, Mrs. Bishop.” Virginia lowered her ample body onto the seat, nearly obscuring the chair from Edna’s view. “I’ll keep a close eye on her.
Don’t you worry none
.”

The ensuing silence was broken only by the sound of Stephen’s office door closing with a soft snick as the latch fell into place behind Peg.

As if she weren’t lying on the floor or Virginia staring down at her, Edna said, “How are you these days, Virginia. It seems ages since we’ve had a chance to talk.”

“I’ve been just fine, Mrs. Davies.” Peg’s housekeeper gently patted the left side of her chest. “Except for watching my old ticker, the doc says I’m fit as a fiddle.”

“Oh,” Edna was immediately concerned. “Have you been having heart trouble?”

“Nah.
Doc says I should take it easy because I had rheumatic fever as a kid, but I’m okay as long as I don’t run any marathon races.” The plump Virginia chuckled at her own joke.

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