The Ellsworth Case (A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella Book 5) (9 page)

“Well, yes, I suppose so,” Karen
replied.
 
She glanced over at the
door to the back, but then allowed Janet to pull her across the room.

Janet had just about run out of things to
say about the wardrobe when Joan and William reappeared.
 
She sighed with relief.
 
A moment later the sisters were heading
for their car.

“I’m sure Karen thinks I’m quite daft,”
Janet said as they walked.
 
“I admired
every little thing about that wardrobe, from the size to the craftsmanship to
the wood, at least twice.”

“And I didn’t even get anywhere with
William,” Joan told her.
 
“He
refused outright to discuss his art with me.”

“Did he give you any reason why?”

“He just said he wasn’t ready to tell Karen
about it,” Joan replied.
 
“And he
wouldn’t talk about her, either.”

“They seemed to be having quite a large
fight when we got there,” Janet said.

“Karen has a very extensive vocabulary,”
Joan said dryly.

Janet laughed.
 
“I’ve never even heard some of those
words before,” she told her sister.

“Yes, well, they certainly weren’t nice
words.
 
I wonder what they were
fighting about.”

“I couldn’t hear enough to figure that out,”
Janet told her.
 
“You couldn’t get
William to tell you anything?”

“Oh, he’d have talked all day about the
pictures in the back,” Joan told her.
 
“I couldn’t shut him up.
 
He
just kept babbling about the different artists and whatever.
 
I’m sure he was just trying to keep me
from asking difficult questions.”

“But you did anyway,” Janet said with a
grin.

“I tried,” Joan agreed.
 
“But I didn’t get any answers.”

“I don’t suppose he had any news on the
tantalus
?” Janet asked.

“He said he’s sent requests to a few friends
to see if he can find out more, but it will probably be some time before he
hears back, especially as it is so close to Christmas.”

“Karen asked if we had a room available,”
Janet told Joan.

“Oh, goodness, I hope you told her no,” Joan
exclaimed.

“I did,” Janet said.
 
“I told her we were booked up until some
time in January.”

“Good.
 
I know we shouldn’t be choosy about our guests, but I didn’t like that
woman when I first met her and I really don’t like her after today.
 
I don’t think she’s good for William.”

Janet laughed.
 
“Remember how much we disliked William
when we met him?” she asked.
 
“I
can’t believe we’re so worried about his happiness now.
 
A few months ago I would have said that
he and Karen deserve one another.”

“But William has really been trying to be
nicer, and his art work is really lovely.
 
It bothers me that she’s getting in the way of his working on his art.”

“I know,” Janet said.
 
“He’s much nicer than he first
appeared.
 
Maybe Karen is as well.”

“Or maybe she’s just horrible,” Joan said.

“Maybe,” Janet said.

Joan parked in their small car park and the
pair made their way into the house.
 
They were halfway up the steps to the front door when Janet heard a car
turning down the street.
 
She
stopped and watched as a newer sedan car stopped and then signaled and pulled
into
Doveby
House’s car park.
 
Joan had opened the door to the house
and now both sisters watched as the car door swung open.

Chapter Nine

The woman who climbed out of the car looked
like every other woman in her sixties in Britain.
 
Her clothes weren’t new, but they were
clean and neatly pressed.
 
Her shoes
were sensible and her grey hair was cut in an efficient bob.
 
She might have been carrying a few more
pounds than she had in her youth, but it suited her.
 
Janet was immediately reminded of her
mother, who had been dead for many years.
 
This woman looked like someone’s mother.

“Good afternoon,” Janet greeted the woman as
she made her way from the car towards the house.
 
“Can we help you?”

The woman looked at her and then sighed
deeply.
 
“I suppose I must go on,
mustn’t I?
 
I wasn’t sure I was even
going to stop, but then there you were and I didn’t feel as if I could just
drive away.”

“Would you like to come in?” Joan asked from
the doorway.
 
“I could make some
tea.”

“I think I could use some,” the woman replied.

Joan led the others into the kitchen.
 
While Janet put the kettle on, Joan
fixed a plate of sandwiches.

“It’s just about time for some lunch,” she
said brightly.
 
“We can have
sandwiches and then biscuits.
 
I’ve
even got some Victoria sponge left from yesterday, if you prefer.”

The woman sitting at the kitchen table shook
her head.
 
“Oh, but I didn’t, that
is, I wasn’t expecting, oh...
”
 
She stopped speaking and burst
into tears.

Janet exchanged glances with her sister and
then moved over to the woman.
 
She
handed her a tissue and then began to pat her back.
 
“There now, it isn’t that bad, is it?”
she muttered.
 
“Whatever is wrong,
we can help, or at least we can try to help.”

The woman sobbed even more.
 
The kettle boiled and Joan fixed the
tea.
 
“Here now, tea,” Joan said
loudly.

The woman drew a deep breath and then
swallowed hard.
 
After a moment, she
raised her head and reached for her teacup.
 
After a couple of sips, she blew out a
sigh.
 
“I am sorry,” she said.
 
“I’m not usually, that is, I never cry.”

“Sometimes you need a good cry,” Janet
said.
 
“It clears your head, or so
I’m told.”

The woman nodded.
 
“I suppose it did, rather.
 
I simply wasn’t expecting you to be so
nice, you see.
 
It’s all been so
difficult.”

“Perhaps you should start from the
beginning,” Joan suggested.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” she
replied.
 
“I ought to introduce
myself, I guess.
 
I’m Harriet
Walters.”

Janet looked sharply at Joan, but Joan kept
her eyes on their guest.
 
“It’s very
nice to meet you,” she said.
 
“I’m
Joan Markham and this is my sister, Janet.”

“I always wanted a sister,” Harriet said distractedly.
 
“I only had a brother and he was ten
years older than me.
 
It wasn’t,
that is, we were never close.”

“I can’t imagine what a brother would be
like,” Janet said.

“I suppose it depends on the brother,” Joan
interjected.

Harriet chuckled.
 
“I suppose it does,” she agreed.
 
“Mine wasn’t very happy to get lumbered
with a baby sister and he never bothered to hide that from me.”

“There’s only a few years between us,” Janet
told her.
 
“Joan didn’t have time to
get used to being an only child before I came along.”

Harriet nodded.
 
“I felt that was best when I came to
have my children.
 
Jack wasn’t quite
two when Margaret came along and she was only just two when Charlotte
arrived.
 
Charlotte was nearly three
by the time we had George, but I lost one in between my last two.”

“And are your children closer than you and
your brother were?” Janet had to ask.

Harriet shrugged.
 
“The girls fought constantly when they
were younger and the boys were too far apart in age to really get along.
 
Now that they’re all adults I suspect
they only stay in touch with one another to please me.”

While they talked, all three women sipped
their tea.
 
Janet was pleased to see
Harriet’s
colour
improve as she nibbled her way
through several sandwiches.
 
After
Joan cleared the sandwich platter, she replaced it with a plate of biscuits.

“I’ll just slice up the Victoria sponge,”
she said while Janet and Harriet helped themselves to biscuits.

“Just a small piece for me,” Harriet
said.
 
“I have to watch what I eat.”

“A treat now and then is good for you,”
Janet said, conscious that she, too, probably carried a few pounds more than
was healthy for her.

“Yes, but, well, I guess you’re right,”
Harriet agreed eventually.

As their guest finished the last of her
slice of cake, Janet couldn’t wait any longer.

“So, what brings you to
Doveby
House?” she asked as casually as she could.

The woman looked up from her plate and
smiled sadly.
 
“Thank you both so
much for your kindness,” she said.
 
“I wasn’t expecting that and I’m ever so grateful.”

“It was no trouble at all,” Joan said
soothingly.

“I don’t even know what name he’s using,”
Harriet continued.
 
“I just assumed
he was using his own.
 
He isn’t very
good at lying.
 
He never has been.”

Even though she was sure she knew the
answer, Janet felt she had to ask.
 
“Who isn’t very good at lying?”

“My husband,” Harriet replied, looking back
down at the table.
 
“Charles Walters
is his name.
 
I don’t know what name
he’s using here, but I’m pretty sure he’s staying with you now.
 
He’ll be staying with a woman called
Lynne, although she might have used a different name, too.”

“Perhaps you should describe the man,” Joan
suggested.
 
“Before we say anything
further.”

Harriet nodded.
 
“You have to protect your guests, I
understand.
 
I can do better than
describe him, though.
 
I can show
you a picture.”
 
She dug through her
handbag and pulled out a photo.
 
Janet
immediately
recognised
the couple in the photo as
Charles and Lynne Walters.

“Believe it or not, she’s his secretary,”
Harriet said now.
 
“The photo was
taken at a company event.
 
They
really do look like a couple together, don’t they?”

She sighed sadly.
 
“He looked at me like that before we had
the children,” she said after a moment.
 
She went back into her handbag and pulled out another photo.
 
This one was older, and it showed a much
younger Charles and Harriet on their wedding day.
 

“You looked so beautiful,” Janet said.

“And now I look so old that my husband is
having an affair with a woman who is actually older than me,” Harriet replied
bitterly.

“I don’t want to ask any nosy questions,”
Janet said, even though she was dying to ask a whole bunch of very nosy
questions.
 
“But we’re happy to
listen if you want to talk about it.”

Harriet shrugged.
 
“I’ve suspected him of cheating for a
long time, but I was busy with the kids and then the grandchildren, and I
ignored it and just got on with life.
 
One day Charlotte rang and told me she’d seen her father in London with
his secretary and that they looked rather friendlier than she felt was
proper.
 
I tried asking Charles
about it, but he, well, we just don’t really talk anymore.
 
When this trip came up, well, I decided
it was time to find out what was really going on.”

“I’m sorry,” Joan said.
 
“You deserve better.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said quietly.
 
“I’m actually weirdly proud of
myself.
 
I drove down to Leeds,
where Charles said he was going, but of course, he wasn’t there.
 
Then I started driving around the area,
looking for his car.
 
I figured he
wouldn’t go too far away.
 
He really
hates driving.”

“And you found him yesterday, didn’t you?”
Janet asked as things suddenly fell into place.

“I found his car yesterday,” Harriet
confirmed.
 
“I parked next to it and
waited for them to come back, but they never did.”

“They walked back from town to here,” Joan
told her.
 

Harriet laughed.
 
“I’m so glad they had to suffer a bit,”
she exclaimed.

“So how did you find
Doveby
House?” Janet asked.

“I asked the nice man in the chemist shop
where there was to stay around here,” she replied.
 
“He gave the names of a couple of places
in Little Burton, and
Doveby
House.
 
I drove home late last night and then
drove back here this morning.
 
Charles’s car was gone when I got back and I drove around for a while,
but I couldn’t find it.
 
Then I
decided to drive past your home and see if he was here.
 
I wasn’t even going to stop, I was just
going to check the car park, but there you were, the pair of you, looking so
nice and friendly, that I, well, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Joan said again.
 
“I wish we could tell you we hadn’t seen
them.”

“I’d just have to drive to Little Burton and
try there,” Harriet replied.
 
“I
know they’re together and I know it isn’t business, no matter what Charles
tries to tell me.
 
I just have to
figure out what I want to do about it, I guess.”

“As neither of us has ever married, I don’t
think we’re in any position to offer you any advice,” Joan said.

Janet bit her tongue.
 
She had lots of advice to offer, mostly
along the lines of throwing Charles out on his ear.
 

“I suppose I should just leave,” Harriet
said now.
 
“I know if he sees my car
he’ll stay away.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Joan asked.

“You might mention that I’ve been here,”
Harriet said with a wicked grin.
 
“Maybe
that will force him to cut short his holiday and come home.”

“Why do you want him to come home?” Janet
asked bluntly.

Harriet looked surprised.
 
“I don’t really, I guess,” she said
after a moment.
 
“But I quite like
the idea of spoiling his holiday.”

Janet laughed.
 
“I can certainly understand that,” she
said.

The sisters walked the woman to the
door.
 
“Thank you both for your
kindness,” she said as she left.

“That poor woman,” Joan said as she and
Janet took care of the lunch dishes.
 
“Sometimes I’m so grateful I never got married.”

“Me, too,” Janet agreed.
 
“But what are we going to say to Charles
and Lynne when they get back?
 
I’m
not sure I can even be polite to them now.”

“We have to be polite,” Joan told her.
 
“They’re paying guests, after all.”

“And now we know why they paid in cash,”
Janet said wryly.
 
“So his wife
wouldn’t know where he’d been.”

Janet was in the library a short while later
when she heard the front door open.
 
She and Joan met in the corridor on their way into the sitting room.
 
Charles and Lynne were standing in the
doorway.
 
They’d clearly been
arguing.

“Ah, we’re going to have to check out
early,” Charles said to the sisters as they entered the room.
 
“We’re leaving right now, in fact.”

“That’s a shame,” Joan said levelly.
 
“I hope it isn’t anything we’ve done or
not done.”

“No, no, something’s come up at home, that’s
all,” the man said, not meeting her eyes.
 
“We’ll just go and pack.”