The Extinguished Guest (A Lexie Starr Mystery, Book 2) (24 page)

"She agreed to file for a divorce—a quiet, uncontested divorce. We would split our
assets equally and go our separate ways. The assets are all essentially hers, but
she's agreed to give up half of them as her end of the deal. For my end of the deal,
I promised to never mention what I observed this morning. I knew the last thing Alma
would want is the rumor going around about her having an affair with Boris Dack. It
wouldn't fare well with her quilting club buddies."

As I listened to Harry Turner, it occurred to me he was now blackmailing his wife
in much the same manner as Horatio had blackmailed him all those years. Does one bad
turn really deserve another? I didn't really think so. But despite it all, I couldn't
help feeling pleased about the way things had turned out for Harry.

I told him I was happy to know the defamatory photo would no longer be an issue for
him and expressed condolences on the dissolution of his marriage, all in one breath.
He thanked me once again for giving him the push he needed to confront Boris about
the photo in the first place. "Without your encouragement, my dear, things could have
gone on in the same intolerable fashion as before. I'd have stayed with Alma, hating
every minute I spent with her. And I'd have continued to pay Boris to keep my shameful
secret from the rest of the world, while he and my wife were keeping their shameful
secret from me."

Yes, that was it! Harry had just, in one sentence, explained to me why I felt pleased
with myself for helping Harry find an answer to his dilemma. What Harry had done wasn't
right, but it wasn't quite as despicable as what others had done to him. Wasn't that
some kind of twisted version of the Golden Rule? I wondered.

I congratulated Harry once more before leaving to take tea and cookies to Alma in
the library and then find Stone. I was anxious to relate this latest development to
him. I just prayed the conjured-up vision of Alma Turner "cavorting butt-naked" with
Boris Dack wasn't something that would linger in my mind for very long.

Chapter 18

"Hey there, Mom!" I heard when I picked up the ringing phone as I stepped into the
kitchen.

"Hi, Wendy."

I glanced out the window over the sink and saw Stone in the backyard. He was talking
to Otto Poffenbarger. It was the first time I'd ever seen Otto without his spouse.
Always before he'd been following in Patty's wake, like a puppy waiting for her to
hand him a bone to chew on. I turned my attention back to Wendy.

"Anything new?" she asked. "Stone called and told me you were pushed down the staircase
last night. Were you injured? I couldn't believe what he was saying. Any ideas about
who might have shoved you? Didn't anybody see anything? Didn't you get a glimpse of
the culprit yourself? Are you feeling okay today? Why are you still intermingling
with any of them, anyway? Didn't Stone tell you to back off on your personal investigation?
Didn't he say the success of the inn was not worth your getting injured, or worse?
How could you even think about—?"

"Yes, Wendy, I'm fine." As usual, Wendy was firing questions at me like a pitching
machine throwing balls at warp speed to a batter. I selected the most innocuous question
to answer and hoped it would satisfy her. "Just ended up with a few bumps and bruises,
that's all."

"I'll certainly be relieved when all those damn Historical Society people leave the
inn. This is really starting to scare me. Somebody there is obviously determined to
harm you and, given enough time and opportunities, they will!"

"It does seem as if someone wants me out of the way, doesn't it?" I wanted to derail
the conversation away from the current subject. Wendy had an annoying propensity to
treat me as if I had the intelligence of a barnacle. Maybe it was true I hadn't exhibited
much common sense recently, but it didn't mean I wanted to be lectured about it by
my own daughter. She didn't seem to think I could survive without a lot of help and
advice, mainly from her. I changed the subject before she could get up on the soapbox
I knew she was steering toward. "So what's new with you?"

"I just got home from work and thought I'd call to check on you and tell you what
I learned regarding the Prescott homicide."

"Oh? What'd you learn?" The distraction ploy had worked, veering Wendy away from discussing
her mother and her mother's erratic and irrational behavior.

"The county homicide investigators came and spoke with Nate and me today. They discovered
the only place in the entire region selling tansy oil is the Dunsten Drug Store in
St. Joseph."

Dunsten Drug Store. Why did the name sound so familiar? I knew I'd heard of it before,
but I couldn't remember where or when. "So the tansy oil was purchased there?" I asked
my daughter.

"No," Wendy said. "Mr. Dunsten checked himself but found no record of having sold
any tansy oil in months. Dunsten Drug is a small, old-fashioned, family-owned drug
store and has been known to carry a lot of unusual, off-the-wall items in their inventory.
It's the place to look if you can't find something anywhere else, and that's probably
what's kept them in business for so many years."

"That'd be a good thing to remember. So it would appear the tansy oil was purchased
outside of the Kansas City area?"

"That's the assumption at this point."

"Everything else okay at home? I feel like I haven't been there in weeks."

"Everything's fine. And Andy called last night with some great news. He's very seriously
considering selling out in Myrtle Beach and moving back to this area. Andy's always
wanted to own a farm, and he found some acreage just west of Rockdale listed in a
classified ad on the Internet. The property has an old farmhouse on it, a nice barn,
and several out buildings. It also comes with a John Deere tractor, a rooster and
chickens, a handful of hogs, a goat, and seventy-three head of Black Angus. It's exactly
what he's been dreaming about and at a price he thinks he can swing. I promised Andy
I'd run by the property and take some digital photos to e-mail to him."

"Oh, Wendy, that's great news. But can he make a living at farming?"

"He's not sure, but he wants to try, and I promised I'd help him any way I can," Wendy
said. "He's planning to keep his five-passenger Cessna so he can still take on charter
flights out of the industrial airport here."

"Stone will be so pleased to hear the news. There's nothing he'd like more than to
see his favorite nephew relocate to this area. That's really the only reservation
Stone had about leaving Myrtle Beach."

"There's nothing I'd like more, either, Mom, than to have Andy move back here like
Stone did. Andy's such a great guy, just like his uncle."

"I know. He's so much like Stone it's uncanny. Listen, Wendy, I need to get off the
phone. Speaking of Stone, I see him visiting with Mr. Poffenbarger in the backyard,
and I'd like to go out and talk to them."

"Mom," Wendy said, dragging the three-letter word out like it had five syllables.
"Can't you just drop it? How do you know Mr. Poffenbarger's not the one who shoved
you down the stairs? Who's to say he didn't shoot Mr. Prescott?"

"Oh, I really don't think Otto would—"

"Didn't you say he and Prescott were both writing books about the same subject? Isn't
there bound to be a lot of competition between them to get their own book published
first?"

"Yes, of course, dear. But I'll be perfectly safe. Stone will be here with me. Try
not to worry so much. It's not good for your health to be under so much stress," I
cautioned. I sighed as I hung up the phone and went out the back door of the kitchen
to speak to Stone and Otto.

* * *

"Hi, hon."

"Hello, Ms. Starr."

The two men, standing over an empty raised flowerbed, greeted me in unison. The soil
had been tilled in preparation for planting flowers after the frost-free date had
passed. Otto gestured toward the flowerbed as he spoke.

"I was just giving Stone some tips on how to make the soil more fertile. Fertile soil
will help your flowers grow and stay healthy."

"Oh? I'd like to discuss it with you sometime, too. I have some landscaping ideas
I'm anxious to experiment with this spring," I said. It was then I noticed a large
manuscript lying on one of the patio tables to the left of the two gentlemen. Stone
caught my surprised expression.

"I just brought it out to show to Otto," he said. He shot me a meaningful look. "It's
the book Mr. Prescott had been working on. I was telling Otto how Mr. Prescott's manuscript
had been found in Otto's suitcase, and he's assured me he has absolutely no idea how
it got there. He's concerned someone was attempting to frame him by planting it there.
I agree it's possible."

"It sure looks like it, doesn't it?" I picked up the stack of loose pages, probably
three or four hundred in all, and flipped through them.

With a look of discomfort, Otto said, "Stone allowed me to scan through the first
couple of chapters. I was eager to get a sense of Horatio's writing style, just out
of curiosity, of course. I have to admit, it's very good—much better than mine. It
deserves to be published, and my book pales in comparison, I'm afraid. For my book
to have any prayer of being published, I'd have to completely revise it. I'd need
to add humor and make it a lot less dry and more interesting. And frankly, I don't
believe I have the capacity, the talent, or the patience to do it."

"So what are you saying, Otto?" I asked.

"I'm going to put my manuscript on the shelf for now and offer to help Horatio's daughter,
Veronica, get her father's book published. He put a lot of effort into it, and even
if his book were published posthumously, it'd be better than it not being published
at all. His expertise really shines through in his writing, and this how-to book would
be quite an asset to people attempting to restore historic homes a proper and accurate
way. I'm man enough to admit my book couldn't hold a candle to his. It's a shame he
won't be around to enjoy any success with it."

"Otto, I think that's a wonderful idea," I said. Stone nodded his agreement. I set
the manuscript back on the table and continued, "It says a lot about your character
and integrity. And I'm sure your writing is not as bad as you make it sound."

"Well, thanks, but I'm just doing what anyone with an ounce of common sense would
do," Otto said. "Now I should go upstairs and leave you two alone. Stone, I trust
you'll see this manuscript is turned over to the authorities?"

"Yes, of course," Stone said.

We watched Otto Poffenbarger walk up to the back deck and then open the door into
the parlor. Once he was out of view I turned to Stone. "That's thoughtful of him.
Isn't it? Otto seems different to me. Does he to you?"

"Uh-huh," Stone agreed. "Something clicked in him last night after Patty choked on
the chicken bone at the supper table. It was like the proverbial straw breaking the
camel's back. Before you came out here he told me he and Patty had engaged in an argument
after supper, a battle of wills he called it. Otto told her he couldn't tolerate the
situation any longer and threatened to file for divorce. By the time the dust settled,
Patty had agreed to stop treating Otto as a subordinate and also to make a formidable
effort to lose weight."

"That will be the day."

"Well, it won't be easy for her, but she's considering gastric bypass surgery, like
Al Roker on the
Today Show
had done. And Crystal told me Patty turned down doughnuts with her coffee this morning
and requested just grapefruit for breakfast and a small salad for lunch. That's certainly
a good start."

"I'll say! Good for her! I'm proud of her. We'll have to encourage Patty and offer
whatever support we can. If she doesn't do something drastic soon, her heart could
give out from having to work too hard. Her arteries have to be pretty clogged too,
I'd imagine."

"Otto did tell me Patty's cholesterol level was dangerously high. She's a borderline
diabetic and has high blood pressure, too. And she really does have a thyroid condition,
but one little iodine tablet a day controls it and keeps it at a normal level. Being
grossly obese only exacerbates all of her medical problems, Otto said. Anyway, I hope
Patty's willpower holds out, and that everything works out for them."