Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) (7 page)

“Oh, I don’t think Doris minds one bit. And it’s so good to have some friendly company my own age around here. No offense, but you can be a little bossy, darling.” Bessie flipped the piece of chicken she was tending and grinned.

“Someone’s got to keep you in line,” Annie chuckled, happy to see her mother in such a happy, teasing mood. Annie realized that, despite the amount of work involved with running the inn, her family seemed to be thriving. Of course, it was early days yet, but Annie couldn’t help but feel that her family had found its place in the world, and she actually looked forward to getting up every day to see what the day would bring.

Annie drained a pan of boiled potatoes and began mashing them into submission. She heard the familiar crunch of tires on gravel as she blended them, and she glanced up only long enough to ascertain that it was Rory’s truck pulling into its place out beside the barn. A few minutes later, as she spooned the mashed potatoes into a serving bowl, Annie discovered that her day wasn’t through with surprises for her.

A yip and a yelp preceded her son through the back door. A dirty ball of fur with a tail like a motorboat propeller tried to escape her son’s gangly teenage arms. The smell of dog suddenly overpowered the scent of fried chicken. Devon grinned from ear to ear, carrying a new houseguest.

“Can we keep him?” Devon struggled to keep the wriggling pup from breaking free. It squirmed and whined, sniffing the air furiously and seeking out the source of the fried chicken’s aroma.

“What on earth--” Annie began, “Where did you find that?”

“Well, it wasn’t on our list,” Rory said, following Devon with an armful of shopping bags, “but the little guy was just sitting by the side of the road looking so forlorn. We had to stop and grab him. Somebody would have probably hit him with their car if we hadn’t.” He handed the bags to Annie, who had wiped her hands on a towel and was now examining the dog for a collar.

“No collar,” Devon confirmed, “so we can keep him, right?”

“Not so fast,” Annie countered, “He might be microchipped. We should take him to the vet’s office and check,” she suggested.

“Oh, Dr. Fisher isn’t open this late,” Bessie said, sneaking the dog a piece of fried chicken she’d pinched off of the bone. “Besides, this little guy looks like he’s been mistreated. I mean, look, he’s skin and bones!” She continued to fuss over the pup until Annie put her foot down.

“He has to get out of this kitchen.” She looked at Devon, who was still silently pleading with eyes as large as the pup’s own big brown ones. “Go put him up out in the barn for now. Give him some cat food and water and we’ll take him to Dr. Fisher first thing in the morning.”

“And if he doesn’t have a chip?” Devon asked anxiously.

“Then Dr. Fisher can find him a good home,” Annie replied, feeling only a little bit like a traitor.

“We can give him a home,” Devon countered, not willing to let the subject go.

Annie started to say something, but Rory cut her off. “Now, Devon, let’s just go do as your mom asked. I’m sure this little guy is hungry.”

Devon’s shoulders slumped slightly as he turned to follow Rory out the door. Annie was sure that she heard Rory say something about changing her mind as they walked away.

“What about that?” Bessie said, shaking her head. “Poor little guy, just left on the side of the road like that. I don’t see how people can be so cruel.”

Annie couldn’t understand it, either. From the look of the puppy, it couldn’t have been more than a three or four months old. “I guess we’re starting to get a reputation for taking in orphans,” She replied, half-jokingly.

“So you’re going to let him keep the dog?” Bessie asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

“Do you really think I have a choice?” Annie replied with a grin. “As long as he doesn’t belong to anyone else, I don’t have a problem with it. Besides, it might be nice to have a guard dog around here. If we’d had one the other night, Mr. Ross might not have ended up in the pond the way he did.”

The two women washed up and began carrying plates filled with food to the dining room. Annie had already set the long dining table with plates, cutlery, and glasses. They piled the table high with dishes full of fried chicken, freshly baked biscuits, green beans, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, coleslaw and freshly sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, which were Bessie’s favorite. Their guests could simply help themselves to the food, like one big family sitting down for the evening meal.

They’d told everyone that dinner would be ready by six, and although it was only a quarter to, the scent of food drew her guests into the dining room like music from the Pied Piper’s merry pipe. Annie was starving, so she knew her guests must be hungry, too.

The guests piled their plates high with the food, praising Bessie’s culinary skills through full mouths. “Where’s your boy?” Frank Martin asked around a bite of fried chicken. “He’s a bright kid,” he added before washing it down with tea.

“Oh, he and Rory are eating out on the veranda. It seems that they picked up a new guest when they ran some errands for me,” she replied. “They found a puppy,” she explained. “I told them to keep it outside for now, but I’m sure it will find its way into my son’s bedroom before the day is over.”

“Aww,” Kizzy gushed, “how sweet! Did they just find it outside?”

“It was on the side of the road,” Annie clarified. “People drop strays off all the time out here in the countryside. It’s sad, really. Most of them get hit by cars or end up starving to death.” Annie had made sure that they’d visited the vet as soon as they were settled in the house to have Devon’s cat, TigerLily, spayed. She definitely didn’t want to add to the unwanted pet population, and the young cat was enough trouble on her own. Annie couldn’t imagine how much trouble adding a puppy to her household was going to be.

“Dogs are a lot of work,” Mr. George interjected, and Annie was surprised to hear him trying to join the conversation. “I had a dog when I was a boy, but he died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Annie replied, not quite sure of how to respond.

“Don’t be. Dogs die, you know. People die, too.” Alexander George chewed his biscuit thoughtfully. “It’s all part of the circle of life. These biscuits are wonderful, Mrs. Purdy.”

An uncomfortable lull in the conversation threatened to settle in, but Rob stepped up and broke the silence. “I can’t help but feel we’re all in some weird little play,” he suggested. “You know, like one of those Agatha Christie dinner theater productions.”

Kizzy giggled. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to do one of those. I did a play at the local dinner theater in my hometown,” she added. “But it was a comedy.” She sighed. “I just had a bit part, but it was fun.”

“I know exactly how he feels,” Marie added. “I’m sure that Robert is feeling the same thing that I do,” she continued. Rob cringed at her use of his full name.

“And what is that?” he asked, baffled.

“The spirits, of course. Oh, they are restless here! I sensed something very old when I first arrived, but after that gentleman died in the pond, well, the spirits are very disturbed, indeed.”

Annie pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I believe in spirits. I haven’t seen any ghosts around here if that’s what you mean.”

Marie clucked her tongue. “Oh, no, ghosts are entirely different. They’re usually just noisy, a nuisance, really. I’m talking about angry souls who died before their time. Don’t you feel it? That tension in the air when you enter an empty room, or that feeling that someone is watching you when you are alone--that is a spirit trying to make its presence known. I think that Lou Ross is trying to tell us something about who murdered him, and we should definitely listen.”

“Well, the police aren’t so sure that he was murdered, Miss Robichaud,” Annie replied, putting her fork down on her plate.

Rob cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s precisely why it feels like we’re in an Agatha Christie story. Emmett said the death
could have
been accidental, but there’s no proof of that, either. A mysterious death, a room full of strangers--I’m waiting for Angela Lansbury to pop up any minute now and tell us all whodunnit.”

“Do you think a ghost killed Mr. Ross?” Kizzy suggested, suppressing a giggle. “Maybe Marie here can contact him
beyond the grave
and just tell the police what happened.”

“You laugh, but vengeful spirits are not to be teased. I’ve been working with the spirit world for many years, and I’ve seen what happens when people don’t take them seriously,” Marie warned, her eyes flaring. “I’ve seen strong men grow sick and weak, sane people turn crazed from fear, all because they didn’t believe that spirits could harm them. Perhaps I should perform a cleansing ritual for your home, Annie?”

“Thank you, but I don’t think that will be necessary,” Annie replied.

“Do the police know any more about the dead man, Annie? Who he was, or if he has any next of kin?” Doris had a gentle look of concern on her face, and Annie could tell she was trying to steer the conversation into saner waters.

“According to the Chief of Police, the man was a wanted criminal,” Rob replied before Annie could say anything. She flashed him a look that she hoped would make him see sense and shut his mouth, but he kept talking. Obviously, Rob’s idea of not making hasty conclusions included solving the crime all on his own.

“Emmett said that he was a conman, Mrs. Martin. I’ve been looking into the guy’s past, and he wasn’t a very nice man, by the look of things.” Rob leaned back in his chair, confidently posing as though he was giving his own newscast. “Sources say that Lou Ross ran savings and lending scams that targeted elderly and disabled people. Pretty scummy, if you ask me.”

“Well, then maybe he deserved to die,” Frank said coldly. “People like that, they get what they deserved if you ask me.” He gritted his teeth and took a long swig of his ice water.

“Frank!” Doris’ cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed. “What a horrible thing to say! Of course, you don’t mean that. We’re not that kind of people,” she added, apologizing to the room for her husband’s statement.

“Speak for yourself, Doris. If I could get my hand on that piece of scum...I’d kill him with my own two hands.”

The room fell silent once again. Frank rose from the table. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset anyone, Mrs. Richards. I’m going to go step outside and get some fresh air. These kinds of things--well, they get to me,” he said, struggling to explain himself.

“It’s alright, Mr. Martin. Please help yourself to one of my rocking chairs on the front porch. They’re perfect for de-stressing,” Annie replied lamely.

After Frank had left the table, Bessie tried to change the conversation. “I hope you all saved some room for dessert,” she scolded playfully. “We’ve got homemade blackberry pie, peach cobbler, and ice cream.” She grinned at the guests, “I know you’ll love it!”

Doris couldn’t let things lie. “I’m so sorry about Frank--he’s just still so angry about last year.”

“What happened last year?” Kizzy asked, reaching for a toothpick.

“Oh, it was awful,” Doris began, shaking her head. “There was a man, John Dawes, or so he called himself. We had been looking online for retirement properties and he claimed to be able to help us find the home of our dreams. He told us that he’d do all the traveling, he’d take photos, talk to the sellers, and handle everything for us so we could just stay home and wait for the perfect place.

“Well, he was so nice, and he promised us such a good interest rate on our mortgage--said he had an arrangement with the bank--so we didn’t think twice when he told us that he needed ten thousand dollars in cash. He said it was to cover a down payment, plus some of his travel expenses. We thought it was more than fair, but then things went wrong. After we wired him the money, his emails and phone calls became less frequent. Then they stopped.” She clenched her jaw. “That man took ten thousand dollars of our hard-earned savings and just vanished.”

“Oh,” Kizzy breathed, “that’s awful! I guess I’d have to agree with your husband,” she added, “maybe some people deserve to end up face down in a pond.”

Doris smiled, but it was empty. “Yes, Kizzy, I’m sure that wherever Mr. Dawes is, karma will take care of him. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. And now, here we are, looking at moving down here to South Carolina. It all works out in the end,” she said, trailing off.

“Please, excuse me, too,” Mr. George said abruptly. “I need to go to my room for a bit. I’m afraid my allergies are acting up and I must put my drops in my eyes.” He didn’t wait for anyone to reply, he simply rose and left the table.

“He is so weird!” Kizzy whispered loudly as Alexander disappeared from sight. “Does anybody know what he does for a living?”

“He told me he works at the post office,” Rob replied.

“Well, if he goes postal, I wouldn’t want to be around,” Kizzy laughed.

“Why don’t I bring out the pie and ice cream?” Bessie suggested, trying to steer the conversation back to something more comfortable.

“I’ll help you, Mama,” Annie added, scooting her chair away from the table. “You all sit, enjoy yourselves. We’ll have the dessert out in no time,” she added over her shoulder as she was walking away. Annie let out a deep breath as she left the room. Her mother could manage the dessert on her own just fine, but Annie needed an excuse to get away from everyone for just a few minutes. Dinner had been almost as stressful as finding Lou Ross’ body, and she still had dessert to get through. She could hear her mother scolding Devon’s cat in the kitchen.

Annie decided to step out onto the front porch for just a moment before heading back into the dining room. Maybe she’d do what she’d advised Frank to do and enjoy a few minutes in one of the rocking chairs. She stepped out into the cool evening air and was greeted by the sound of crickets. A gentle breeze cooled her cheeks as she scanned the porch for her guest. He wasn’t out here.

She could hear Devon’s laughter carrying on the wind, so she decided to check the back veranda. Probably Frank had joined him and Rory out back. She cut through the house, stopping just long enough to make sure her mother didn’t actually need her and made her way to the back porch. It was empty, too, but there was someone on the deck by the pond.

Annie peered through the darkened screen at the figure by the pond. It was Frank Martin, and he appeared to be looking for something in the water.