Peach Cobbler Murder (25 page)

“Neil Roper?” Hannah guessed, as some of the facts she’d been carrying around in the mixing bowl of her mind started to blend together.

“That could have been it. I’m pretty sure his name started with an N. It’s been a while since I head it, though.”

“I know. Just try to think back, Luanne,” Hannah encouraged her. “What did Gloria say about her fiancé?”

“Well . . . I don’t remember, not exactly. But I did come away from our conversation with the impression that he was rich. And he was older, too. I’m almost positive that Gloria’s fiancé was twenty years or so older than she was.”

“So what are we doing here again?” Andrea asked, pulling up in the space marked for deliveries behind the back of the Lake Eden Inn.

“We’re here to see if Gloria’s ex-fiancé is Neil Roper, the same man Vanessa married. And then we’re going t find out if Gloria knows that Neil married Vanessa.”

“Okay. And we also need to know if Gloria picked the Lake Eden Inn for the site of the Pretty Girl Retreat so that she could follow Vanessa here, right?”

“Right. But you can’t park here.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s for deliveries.”

“I’m delivering.” Andrea drew a picture of Bethany out of her purse and flashed it at Hannah. “Sally asked me to bring a picture the next time I came out. Besides . . . which deputy is going to give the wife of the Winnetka County Sheriff a ticket?”

Hannah shrugged. Andrea was right. And Lord Acton was also right. Power did corrupt. She just hoped that Andrea never learned that absolute power corrupted absolutely.

“What are you waiting for?” Andrea asked, opening her door and climbing out of the driver’s seat. They’d taken her Volvo because she’d refused to ride in what she called Hannah’s Traveling Ice Cube. “Come on, Hannah. It’s freezing out here. Let’s get this show on the road!”

Once Andrea had shown Bethany’s picture to Sally and Hannah had sighed enviously once again over the spaciousness of Sally’s kitchen, they explained why they’d come out to speak to Gloria.

“You mean Gloria was engaged to Vanessa’s husband?” Sally began to frown when Hannah nodded. “And you’re thinking she might have something to do with Shawna Lee’s murder?”

Andrea shrugged. “Maybe. We’ve got to check it out.”

“Of course you do, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. Gloria is the kind of person who’d work like the dickens to catch a moth in her living room and carry it outside. She wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“You’re probably right,” Hannah soothed the woman who’d obviously become Gloria’s friend. “But Gloria might be able to give us some leads. Even if we’re wrong and she wasn’t engaged to Vanessa’s husband, we know he was on the board of directors at Pretty Girl. Gloria must know something about him.”

Sally shrugged. “Oh. Well . . . if you put it that way . . . come with me and I’ll introduce you.”

The afternoon session had just recessed for coffee and rolls in the dining room, and Sally ushered them to Gloria’s table. “Hi, Gloria.” Sally smiled at the Pretty Girl executive. “These are my good friends Andrea Todd and Hannah Swensen. They’re Delores Swensen’s daughters. You remember her, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Gloria said, smiling at both of them. “Your mother is just wonderful. She made me feel right at home. It gave me pause about going back to Macon, let me tell you!”

It gave her pause? Hannah thought, smiling in spite of herself. It seemed Miss Travis had a literary bent. If truth be known, Hannah liked her already, but she gave a little mental shake and told herself to keep an open mind.

“Hannah and Andrea would like to ask you a couple of questions about Pretty Girl. Do you have a few minutes for them?”

“Of course,” Gloria said with a friendly smile, getting to her feet. She was an attractive woman of approximately their mother’s ages, dressed for success in a soft green pantsuit with a longer than average jacket. As she moved, the jacket parted slightly to reveal a cream-colored silk blouse with a high neck, and a few extra pounds around her waist. “Let’s move to that small table over there. The ladies can get along without me for a few minutes . . . right, ladies?

There were immediate responses of, I don’t know about that! and, How can we get along without you, Gloria? but everyone was smiling as Gloria left the table. She led the way to a small table across the room, and waited until Andrea and Hannah were seated. “Okay, this must be serious. Neither one of you has cracked a smile. What is it?”

“Were you engaged to Neil Roper?” Hannah asked.

For a split second, Gloria looked as if she’d deny it, but then she sighed. “Yes. I should have known it would come out.”

“And he’s the same Neil Roper that Vanessa Quinn married?”

“That’s right. Who told you about it? Luanne Hanks?”

Andrea stepped in quickly. “It doesn’t matter. The important thing is, we know.”

“What we don’t know is how everything went down,” Hannah jumped into the opening her sister had left for her. “Why don’t you tell us exactly what happened after you and Mr. Roper broke up.”

Gloria sighed deeply. “That’s just it. We didn’t break up. I thought everything was just fine. You probably know that Neil was older.”

“We know,” Hannah confirmed. And then she was silent as one of Sally’s waitresses approached the table to bring them a carafe of coffee, three cups, and a plate of fresh cinnamon rolls. “God on,” she prompted, once the waitress had left.

“That’s just it. I don’t know exactly how all this happened, but I think it all started after Neil broke his ankle skiing.”

”Skiing?” Andrea asked.

“That’s right. He was very active for his age. He went off to visit an old friend in Aspen, and when he came back, his ankle was in a cast. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but a week later the housekeeper who’d been with him for over thirty years died of a heart attack.”

Hannah held her breath, waiting for the third incident. Her grandmother had always said bad things came in threes.

“Neil hired another housekeeper and both of us thought that things were looking up, but his ankle started to give him a lot of pain. It just wasn’t healing right. The doctor suggested a physical therapist and Neil hired someone through a medical registry. And that’s really all I know. I spoke to him once on the phone after that, and . . . that’s it.”

“What!” Hannah gasped, not quite believing her ears. “You mean . . . you didn’t see Neil again?”

“No. It sounds crazy when I say it, but every time I called the house, Neil was in therapy, or sleeping, or out of town, or whatever. He sent cards and flowers and things like that, but I didn’t actually get to see him, or even talk to him except that once.”

“Tell us about that,” Andrea prompted.

“It was about a week after he hired the therapist. I called the house and Neil answered the phone. He didn’t sound like himself at all. At first I thought he was drunk, but Neil didn’t drink. Then, when he said something about how the nurse had gone to get his pill, I realized that he must be on some very strong pain medication. It really scared me. He was perfectly polite, but he didn’t seem to be able to answer any questions and he sounded horribly confused. He asked me my name several times, but I don’t think he knew who I was!”

“That’s awful!” Andrea exclaimed, shivering slightly. “What did you do?”

“I called Neil’s doctor, but he wouldn’t give me any information. I wasn’t a relative, you see. And then I called Neil’s house again and asked to speak to his physical therapist. I told her how concerned I was about Neil’s state of mind, and she said not to worry, that he’d been in a lot of pain and she’d given him the maximum dose of medication that the doctor had prescribed.”

“And you bought her story?” Hannah asked, frowning slightly.

“Yes, I did. She seemed competent and pleasant, and I took her advice and stopped worrying. And the next morning a bouquet came for me at the office. It was from Neil and he said he was sorry I’d worried, but he was just fine, he loved me, and he hoped to be back on his feet soon.”

“So you stopped worrying?” Andrea wanted to know.

“For a while. You’ve got to understand that Neil and I didn’t see each other every day. He was still very active in his business and he traveled extensively. There were weeks when I didn’t see him, but he’d always call or send flowers. My own job is very demanding, and I work extended hours. That’s one of the reasons I planned to quit after we were married. Then, when he went to Paris, or London, or Beijing, I could go with him.”

“So how much time passed between the time you spoke to Neil on the phone and when you started to worry again?”

“Three weeks. It was a busy time at Pretty Girl and I was distracted by work. And the flowers kept coming, my favorite daffodils every Monday morning. I really didn’t think anything was wrong until I glanced at my calendar and realized that I hadn’t actually spoken to Neil in almost a month. I’d called, but the physical therapist always answered and she said Neil was fine. It was almost as if she took over his life, which is exactly what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Andrea’s eyes narrowed.

“I mean, before I quite knew what was happening, Neil and the therapist were married.”

“Vanessa Quinn?” Hannah asked, just to set the record straight.

“Yes. I kept calling, but I never got Neil on the phone. And I never spoke to him again.” Gloria blinked back tears, and swallowed hard. “I’m convinced Vanessa killed him. I just wish I’d been able to do something to prevent it, but . . . “

“A woman scorned,” Hannah quoted.

“You’re absolutely right. I called the police and begged them to investigate, but they said there was no evidence that anything was wrong. I was just the jilted fiancée with a grudge. They wouldn’t believe me when I said I thought the physical therapist had been drugging Neil to hold him hostage until she could marry him, and then kill him.”

“Do you really think that’s what happened?”

“I do. When I read about Neil’s death in the papers, I got suspicious, especially since Vanessa inherited everything. Neil always told me he planned to leave part of his estate to his cousin’s daughter, who was working two part-time jobs to get through college. But he didn’t leave anything to her. Everything went to Vanessa, his bride of less than ten months. I’ll eat my hat if Neil married her of his own free will. There’s something really fishy about his death, and that’s not just sour grapes on my part.”

Hannah nodded, ignoring that fact that Gloria had used three figures of speech in one breath, and that had to be some kind of a record. “Let’s move on to what happened when you got to Lake Eden. You came here because of Vanessa, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Pretty Girl was looking for a spot for their retreat and it was the perfect opportunity for me to come to Lake Eden without arousing suspicion. The inn is wonderful, by the way. We voted unanimously to hold our retreat here every year.”

“Sally will happy to hear that,” Andrea said, and then she gazed at Hannah to show that she was through interrupting the questioning.

“Did you talk to Vanessa?”

“No, I didn’t have the opportunity. The day I got here, I drove to the Magnolia Blossom Bakery. I intended to ask Vanessa about Neil.”

“What time was that?” Hannah asked, her pen at the ready.

“I left the inn a little after five-thirty, so I must have gotten to Lake Eden around six. But the bakery was locked and no one answered when I knocked at the door.”

“What did you do then?”

“I walked around the back. When I turned the corner of the building, I saw that the back door was standing open.”

“Did you go in?”

“Yes, I walked to the stairs and shouted out Vanessa’s name. nobody answered me. the kitchen lights were on so I took several steps inside, and . . . and that was when I saw Vanessa lying there on the floor.”

“But it wasn’t Vanessa,” Andrea broke in with an apologetic glance at Hannah.

“I know that now, but I didn’t know it then. I never met Vanessa in person, and all I had to go by was the picture I clipped out of the paper when they ran their marriage announcement.”

“So what did you do when you saw Shawna Lee?”

“I . . . I panicked. I knew if anybody figured out the connection between us, they’d think I killed her. She was dead. I could see that. And there wasn’t anything anybody could do for her. So I . . . I just backed right out of there, pulled the doors hut, and hurried back to my car.”

“What time was that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t look at my watch. All I remember was that church bells had started to peal and I figured that the ceremony was almost over. That meant I had to hurry and get back out to the inn so I could change to my dress clothes before the wedding party arrived.”

“Truth?” Andrea asked, sliding in behind the wheel of her Volvo.

“I think so.”

“So do I. And it just goes to show.”

“Goes to show what?” Hannah asked, wincing at her own awkward sentence construction.

“That’ I’m not the only one who mistook one sister for the other.” There was the sound of faint ringing and Andrea grabbed her purse. “Hold the wheel, Hannah. I’ve got to catch this call.”

As Andrea drew her phone out of her purse and pressed the button to answer the call, Hannah peered through the windshield, guiding the car from the passenger seat. Was this legal? And if they got into an accident, would it be her fault, or Andrea’s? Would they write it up as a cell-phoned-related auto accident, even though she’d had her hand on the wheel? And did it really matter whose hands they were?

“Hi, Mother.” Andrea held the phone to her ear with her left hand and took the wheel back with her right. “You can let go now, Hannah. I’ve got it.”

“You’re sure you can talk and drive at the same time?” Hannah asked, not willing to be a state highway statistic.

“I’m positive.” Andrea proved it by cutting over a lane without signaling. “That’s right, Mother. You did hear Hannah’s name. we’re just coming back from the Lake Eden Inn.”

Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. It was always difficult to ride with Andrea at the best of times, and this obviously wasn’t the best. And if she indulged her inclination to slip into the role of backseat driver, Andrea would be insulted.