Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) (12 page)

Emmett’s face went slack. “You found another body?”

“No!” Annie replied, shaking her head for emphasis. “Nothing like that, but I think somebody tried to hurt a couple of my guests.” She briefly explained Rob and Kizzy’s sickness and told Emmett what Rob had said to her about his suspicions.

“So Rob thinks somebody tried to poison him?” Emmett twisted his bushy mustache, a habit he had whenever he was thinking hard about something. “You got any proof?”

Annie held up the thermos and sloshed it around. “Here’s what’s left of the tea they drank. It’s the only thing they both had that Frank didn’t, and he didn’t get sick.”

Emmett took the thermos, opened it, and sniffed. “I’ll have to send this off to see if there’s anything in it. Rob and Miss Fitzsimmons are okay?”

“They’re fine, now,” Annie confirmed. “But whatever they had, it had them pretty sick earlier.” Annie glanced at her watch. It was only a little past four in the afternoon, but the day had seemed to stretch on forever.

“Well, you did the right thing. I always say it’s best to trust your instincts, and if Rob’s instincts tell him that there’s something funny in this tea, it’s better to be safe than sorry, especially with the things that have been going on up at your place.”

Annie’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I’m afraid my place is going to get the wrong kind of reputation,” Annie worried.

Emmett smiled sympathetically at her. “Teething pains, Annie, that’s all it is. None of your other guests seem to be too bothered by it all, so you must be doing something right.” He leaned against the edge of the counter. “I understand y’all had a little incident this morning, something about a fire?”

“Mama’s been on the phone with you already, huh?” Annie sighed. “It was a little fire. Rory put it out.”

“You know how it got started?” he asked.

“No, to be honest, we don’t. I had a can of charcoal fluid in my shed, and it wasn’t there after we noticed the fire.” Annie sighed. “I have no idea why someone would want to burn the deck unless they were trying to get rid of evidence.”

Emmett nodded and rubbed the ends of his mustache. “Anything else weird happens, you call me. Don’t wait for your mama to do it, just trust your gut, Annie. Your gut won’t ever steer you wrong.”

Rory cleared his throat. “Uh, Chief, have you found anything else out about the dead man? More specifically, was he murdered?”

Emmett sighed. “Coroner confirmed he died from anaphylactic shock. Specifically, there were traces of unrefined peanut oil all over the man’s face and mouth. Unless he was suicidal, I’d say somebody slipped it into a drink, since he didn’t appear to have eaten anything right before he died. So, unofficially, yes, I’m going with murder. But officially, I just don’t have any firm suspects.”

“What about Kizzy Fitzsimmons?” Rory asked. Annie scowled. “What? I’m going to ask, even if you like the woman.”

“Well,” Emmett answered, “we found her prints on the phone, and another set, but not the dead man’s. I’m still waiting to see if we get a match on the second set of prints, but anybody could have touched her phone, so I don’t hold out much hope on that being any help.”

“She swore blind that she had her phone in her room when she went to bed,” Annie interjected, “Do you think she lied about that?”

“You told me she’d been drinking,” Emmett replied. “Who knows what she really remembers about that night.”

Annie’s mind went to Frank’s odd behavior at dinner the night before. “Have you confirmed whether or not the Martins were connected to Lou Ross?”

Emmett shook his head. “My gut says they are, but the guys going through the evidence from Lou’s car haven’t confirmed it.”

She thought about the crumpled piece of paper she’d found in her office. Who would have been interested in what Frank and Doris looked like? Lou Ross certainly would have been interested in them if he’d stolen their money only months before. Did he have an accomplice waiting for him, comparing his description of them to the actual guests staying at the house? Annie was beginning to believe that someone did know that Lou Ross was coming to the bed-and-breakfast. But was he killed by a partner in his crimes, or one of his rightfully angry victims?

“I wish we had all the pieces of this puzzle. My guests are going to start leaving in a few days, and my gut tells me that if we don’t figure out who killed Lou Ross before then, we may never find out who did it.”

She shifted her purse on her shoulder, signaling that she was ready to leave. “Please, call me when you find out what, if anything, is in that tea. In the meantime, I’m going to go home and try to keep my guests from dying.”

Emmett patted Annie on the back as he walked her to the door, and though she normally would have found this to be a patronizing gesture, she didn’t mind Emmett doing it. Somehow, it felt fatherly, and she knew that Emmett was as annoyed by the mess with the money as she was.

“You keep your eyes and ears open, Annie. We’re going to figure out who’s messing with your guests, and when we do, I’d venture to say we’ll figure out who killed Lou Ross.” He shook Rory’s hand and saw them to the door, as though they were guests leaving his home instead of two worried people leaving after bringing him evidence of a crime.

“Tell your Mama I’m still waiting for an invitation to dinner on Sunday,” he called after them, and Annie knew that he was well-aware that Emmett Barnes never needed an invitation to dinner, but she made a mental note to have her mother send him one, just the same.

The drive home was uneventful, except for the fact that Annie realized halfway home that she’d forgotten to go to the pharmacy for Mr. George. They turned around in a dusty driveway and headed back into town so Annie could get the drops and an extra-large bottle of acetaminophen. Since she’d bought the plantation, she’d had more headaches than she cared to admit. She supposed that was just part and parcel of being a business owner, and the price of a bottle of headache pills was a small enough price to pay for her troubles.

Once they were back on the road, Rory asked the question Annie had been trying to answer for the past two days. “So who do you think knew the dead guy, and do you think they killed him?”

Annie shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know. Nobody seems to have known him, or if they did, they’re doing a great job of acting like they didn’t.”

“Kizzy’s an actress,” he noted. “And her phone was found at the crime scene.”

Annie only hesitated for a moment. “I don’t think it was her. She just seems, oh, I don’t know--too ditzy. And she was sick, remember? Why would she poison herself? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Who would you say had the most reason to want the man dead?” Rory cocked his head to one side, waiting on Annie’s answer.

“I hate to say it, but Frank seems like the most likely person, in my opinion. I mean, he got so angry when we were talking about Lou at dinner the other night, and he was with me when I got the fishing rods out of the shed. He saw the charcoal lighter fluid, he knew it was there. And he was nosing around on the deck just before that, like he was looking for something.” She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “He didn’t get sick, either. Isn’t that a little convenient, don’t you think?”

Rory thought this over. “He’s also an old man, and I doubt very seriously that Lou Ross would have gone down quietly if one of his victims had confronted him. Nobody heard a thing the night Lou died, and Emmett says that he had an allergic reaction.” Rory ticked off each point on his fingers. “I’d say that if Lou ate or drank something with peanut oil in it, he had to have been offered it by someone he knew and trusted. Would you trust somebody you’d scammed out of ten thousand dollars?”

They turned onto the road that would take them to Rosewood Place. “Then who? Mr. George? He’s hardly spoken to anyone the whole time he’s been at the house, and he’s as timid as a mouse. But, could he be a dark horse?” Annie didn’t really believe her own suggestion, but she wanted to know what Rory thought.

He laughed gently. “I don’t think that dog would hunt,” he replied. “He’s pretty harmless, I’d venture. Actually, he’s a nice guy. Did you know he’s been coming out to the barn and chatting with Devon and me?”

Annie had no idea that the man had been spending time with her son and Rory. “Well, I guess he is a dark horse, then, just not the kind I thought.” She glanced up as a cloud passed over the sun, turning the sky an ominous shade of gray. Perhaps the thunder they’d heard was a warning. The sky definitely didn’t look blue and welcoming now; it had shifted into something that looked angry and spiteful, threatening to open up and pour down its vengeance onto them at any moment.

“You think that reporter’s on the up and up?” Rory’s question surprised Annie.

“Rob? Emmett seems to trust him. And he got sick, remember?”

“He could be smart, luring us off track while he gets away with murder.”

“Why would he kill Lou Ross? What’s in it for him, besides possibly getting to report the crime on the evening news? A bit of a drastic career move, don’t you think?”

“Well, that just leaves the psychic,” Rory replied. “She can talk to dead people, so why hasn’t she just asked the dead guy who killed him? Maybe she did the dirty deed,” he said, making his voice go wobbly in a bad impersonation of a ghost.

“Maybe she’s not really psychic,” Annie shot back. “I mean, come on, do you really buy her ‘I can talk to dead people’ schtick? I thought you were smarter than that, Rory Jenkins.”

“Now, I didn’t say I believe Marie is the real deal, but I never discount what people think about themselves,” he answered. “She seems thoroughly convinced that she can communicate with spirits. I don’t sense that she’s putting that on,” he continued. “If she’s a fraud, she’s a darned good one.”

Annie’s driveway appeared just up ahead, and as she turned into it a crack of thunder made her jump. Rory let out a low whistle. “Whoo, that was close. Let’s get inside before we need a rowboat to get there,” he teased.

They made it up the hill just as the rain began, and they made it onto the front porch just as it began coming down in earnest. It was a late summer storm full of fury and power, and Annie knew it would pass quickly. She could feel the air around her changing, releasing the pressure and heat that had caused the storm in the first place. Summer storms were good, they cleared the air and brought relief from the heat, but she knew they could also be deadly.

As if on cue, lightning arced across the sky, flashing light that was too bright for her eyes. “Let’s go inside and check on everybody. Hopefully, nobody’s foolish enough to be out in this.”

They went in through the front door and were greeted by Bessie, who sighed loudly when she greeted them. She carried a tray filled with cookies and a pitcher of lemonade. “I’m so glad you’re back! I swear, I have been just run off my feet since you’ve been gone,” she complained. “Not that I mind, especially since our guests have been unwell, but I’m just glad there’s someone else who can answer all of their questions,” she finished.

“Questions? What kind of questions?” Annie asked.

“Oh, you know, Mr. George wants to know what kind of wood the fireplace is made of, Frank wants to know what kind of fish are in the pond, and that Robichaud woman,” Bessie said her name like it was something exotic, “just keeps asking about people who died in the house. She seems awfully interested in that sort of thing,” Bessie finished.

Annie felt bad for her mother, but she knew that she brought it on herself. Bessie had a habit of starting conversations with anyone who would listen, and Annie had a feeling that many of her guests’ questions had risen from prior conversations with her mother. She was slightly amused by the fact that Bessie the Chatterbox had finally gotten tired of all the chatter.

“I’ll take over hostess duties,” Annie assured her. “You go sit, take a break.” She turned to Rory and passed him the two boxes she still carried from the car. “Would you mind sticking these in the office for me real quick?” He took the boxes and disappeared down the hallway leading to the office.

Annie took the tray from her mother and wandered into the sitting room. Frank and Marie looked up from a game of cards and greeted her warmly. “Look what the storm brought in!” Frank laughed. “Glad you guys got back before the weather took a turn. It’s rough out there!”

Marie sat in a corner chair, reading a book. She looked up and over the top of the book, gave Annie a little smile, then returned to her reading. Alexander George sat on the opposite side of the room. He had a book about the history of Coopersville open on his lap and appeared to be studying a map of the county printed inside. There was a distinct lack of chatter, she noted. Her mother was a terrible one to exaggerate.

Annie sat the tray on a coffee table in the middle of the room. “Here’s a little snack to keep you all from starving until dinner,” she chirped. “Just let me know if y’all need anything else.” She turned and started towards the door, then remembered Mr. George’s eyedrops.

“Oops, I almost forgot.” She pulled the drops from her pocket and approached Alexander, who eyed her warily until she held out the small bottle.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, his cautious face breaking into a bright smile. “These are exactly what I needed! I still have no idea what happened to my other bottle,” he apologized. “I do hope your little kitty didn’t try to eat the bottle. They are not suitable for internal consumption,” he added soberly.

Annie smiled, not sure how to respond. “I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually,” she reassured him, “but these should help in the meantime.”

She turned to leave the room, aware that all eyes were on her. It dawned on her that she’d never seen Alexander speak to any of the other guests, and she realized that they must all find him just as odd as she did. Immediately she felt ashamed of herself. The man had been nothing but kind to her, so what if he was a little odd? Annie had no right to judge the man for keeping to himself. Shyness was not a crime, after all.

Annie found Rory and Bessie in the kitchen, eating cookies and drinking coffee. The smell of food filled the kitchen, and Annie realized that her mother had not one, but two slow cookers simmering away on the counter. She could just make out the tang of spaghetti sauce seeping out of one and a hint of beef coming out of the other.

“Vegetable beef stew will be ready shortly, spaghetti’s done already. I just have to make the cornbread and cook up the pasta,” Bessie offered before Annie could ask what they were having for dinner. “I don’t see any reason why I should slave over a hot stove all day,” she quipped when Annie nodded towards the slow cookers.

“Your mom’s a smart woman,” Rory said, popping an entire chocolate chip cookie into his mouth. “And she’s a darned fine cook.”

Annie dropped into a chair beside her mother and picked up her own cookie. “You’re making me fat, Mama.”

Bessie laughed. “I didn’t just put that cookie in your mouth.”

Annie grinned back at her mother around a bite of cookie. “I’ve missed this. You know, despite all the dead bodies that keep popping up in my life now, I am so glad that we bought this place. Daddy would have loved it,” she added quietly.

Bessie nodded thoughtfully. “He would have.”

Rory cleared his throat. “He was a good man, your daddy,” he said to Annie. “Always treated me good, even though I was such a jerk to his little girl.” Rory had dated Annie in high school, and they’d been steady and serious for nearly two years until Rory broke it off without explanation just after they’d graduated. Annie had eventually left for college, married, and moved to New York City. Now, all these years later, here they sat.

“He knew you were a good man, too, Rory,” Bessie assured him.

“I’m glad you’re here, too, Rory.” Annie smiled at him. It had been hard at first, spending so much time with someone she’d once been so close to, someone who’d broken her heart. But as the summer passed, they fell into a comfortable friendship. She was a long way from being ready to ever think about dating again, her husband hadn’t even been dead for a full year, and Rory’s friendship was reassuring. Sure, she felt a few pangs of regret that they’d lost contact, and sometimes old memories would stir up uncomfortable feelings inside of her, but for the most part, their relationship just felt right. Two old friends who didn’t need the hassle of a deeper relationship, that’s what they were, and that was fine with Annie.

A crack of thunder startled them all. Annie had almost forgotten that a storm raged outside. For a moment, she’d felt so content and cozy there in the kitchen. Annie shifted in her chair. “I hope Devon’s not out in the barn,” she said, rising to peer out the window.

“Oh, no, he’s upstairs,” Bessie reassured her. “I gave him the first cookies out of the oven and I’m sure he shared them with that dog,” she laughed. “You know, the puppy and the cat seem to get along just fine,” she said. “I’m surprised. I guess the dog’s smart enough to keep on TigerLily’s good side,” she mused.

Annie started to sit back down in her chair when lightning lit up the sky, followed by yet another boom of thunder. The storm was directly overhead now, and Annie could feel a small rumble in her bones as the sound faded. The lights flickered, then went out.

“Oops,” Bessie said, swallowing her last mouthful of coffee. “Guess the storm knocked the power out.”

Annie sighed. “I’d better go check on the guests. I’m sure the power will be back on in a few minutes, but I don’t want them to worry about it.” She headed for the sitting room, which was shrouded in darkness. The windows let in a little light, but the sky was so gray that it was insubstantial at best.

“Is everyone alright in here?” she called out.

“Annie? What happened?” Doris’s voice called back to her.

Annie let her eyes adjust to the very dim light. She could see that everyone was still where she’d left them. “The storm knocked the power out,” she explained. “It should be back on soon. It normally only takes a few minutes for the power company to fix it,” she added, hoping to reassure her guests.

“Well, now, isn’t this cozy?” Marie’s voice called out. “Should we light some candles?”

Annie hesitated. She didn’t particularly
want
open flames sitting around the place, not after the fire on the deck, but they
did
need light. “I’ll go and get some from the kitchen,” she replied. “You all sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

Annie met Rory in the parlour. “I’ve got some flashlights out in my truck,” he offered. “You want me to run out there and bring them in?” Annie hated to ask him to go out in the rain, but she knew that the power could be out for a while. Although she’d reassured her guests that it would be on soon, she knew from experience that outages this far out in the countryside could last much longer than just a few minutes.

“Okay,” she agreed, “but be careful. I don’t want you to get struck by lightning,” she said earnestly.

Rory left through the front door, and Bessie came from the kitchen. “Is Rory going to get flashlights?” she asked. Annie nodded in the dark hallway. “Good, then I’m going to run upstairs and check on Devon.”

“I was just going to grab some candles from the cellar,” Annie replied. “Please be careful going up those stairs. It’s dark up on the landing and I’d hate it if you fell.”

Bessie waved her hand dismissively and started up the stairs. Annie knew she could warn her mother to be careful all day long, but the woman would do as she wanted regardless.

Annie crept through the dark parlour and into the now empty kitchen. The slow cookers still bubbled on the counter.
At least they’ll stay warm for a while,
she thought. There was just enough light coming in through the window to illuminate the door to the cellar. Annie pulled it open and instinctively flipped the light switch, then cursed at herself when the light didn’t come on.