The Diva Digs up the Dirt (24 page)

A scream broke the tense silence. Another followed, and another.

We all jumped to our feet. Roscoe yelled, “Was that you, Violet?” He lumbered into the house.

Daisy had better hearing than the rest of us. She vaulted over the steps to the grass and shot toward the guest house.

Mars raced after her. I wasn’t as fast, and my sandals slipped on the grass. I slid them off and ran across the lawn.

Mars and Daisy had gone inside. I flung open the door.

Nina stood in the center of the guest house shaking, her hands over her nose and mouth. At the bottom of steep stairs, Mindy sprawled stomach down on the hardwood floor. Her head was turned to the side, her eyes closed.

Mars fell to his knees beside Mindy. “No pulse! Sophie, we’re going to have to flip her!” He tried to tug Mindy away from the wall without much success.

“Nina! Call 911.” I ran to Mindy and asked Mars, “What if she broke her neck? Maybe we shouldn’t move her.”

“We
have
to start CPR!”

He was right. I grabbed her shoulder and shoved.

We managed to scoot her out into the room far enough to maneuver behind her.

“On the count of three, we flip.” Mars counted out loud. “One… two… three!”

We rolled her over onto her back, and I started hands only CPR immediately.

Daisy sniffed Mindy’s head.

“Did you get 911?” I shouted to Nina.

“They’re on their way. I told them we’re in the guest house. What else can I do?”

The door banged open. Roscoe and Violet peered inside.

“What’s going on?” Roscoe went pale. “Mindy,” he whispered. He rushed at us and collapsed in a heap beside her.

Violet screamed. “Roscoe! Roscoe!”

Mars took over the CPR. A good thing, because I was in no shape to keep it up for long.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

Nina and I helped Roscoe to a chair. “I’m fine,” he breathed. “No need to fuss.”

He didn’t look well to me.

Two EMTs rushed inside and relieved Mars, whose face sweated like he’d raced in a competition. We waited silently, hoping for the best.

One of the EMTs asked questions about how Mindy fell. We had no answers. He hammered Roscoe with questions about Mindy. Roscoe appeared to be in a mild daze, and clearly not familiar with Mindy’s medical history or possible drug allergies.

They stopped CPR, and I felt as though my own heart had stopped. Raising my voice, I asked, “Is she alive?”

“Barely.”

They stabilized her neck with a brace, and rolled her out to the ambulance in a gurney. Mars followed them asking questions.

He returned quickly. “Roscoe, they need you to go to the hospital. I’ll drive you.”

I sidled over to him and whispered, “Maybe Roscoe should ride in the ambulance, too. I don’t think he’s well.”

Roscoe reached up to grab Violet’s hand. “Call Olive. I need Olive.”

Mrs. Danvers’s dark eyes darted around, restless and fearful.

With Mars’s help, Roscoe managed to stand, but he shuffled out as though he’d been zapped of all energy.

Violet raced up the stairs. She returned quickly, grabbed a mop, and set to work washing the floor. She moved rapidly, in crazy frenzied motions.

She glanced at the phone, then at Nina and me. Dropping the mop in the middle of the floor, she collected a pair of white high-heeled shoes with red soles that must have been on Mindy’s feet and ran for the main house.

“What were you doing in here anyway?” I asked Nina. I’d never been inside Roscoe’s guest house before. We were in a cozy room with a fireplace. A cobalt blue ceramic tile counter separated a tiny kitchen in the back. Books and floral pillows were everywhere. I wanted to brew a cup of tea and snuggle among the pillows with a book.

The steep stairs led up on the right side. I could see a railing upstairs. I guessed it was some kind of sleeping loft and maybe a bathroom.

“I wanted to find Violet’s poison so she wouldn’t kill the cat. Do you think it was an accident? That Mindy just slipped and fell?” Nina migrated toward the stairs, looking upward.

“Good question. Something weird is going on around here, that’s for sure.”

Nina started up the stairs. “Tell me if Mrs. Danvers comes back.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m snooping, if you must know.”

“Nina!”

She looked over the railing at me. “You saw Mrs. Danvers. If there’s any evidence in this place, it will be washed, bleached, or sterilized within the hour. Besides, it’s not a crime scene.”

“If someone pushed her, he might be hiding up there.”

Nina swung around. “Daisy! Here, girl!”

Daisy galloped up the stairs, her heavy paws alerting anyone who might be in the loft.

“Daisy will let me know if someone is hiding.”

“Well, hurry up!” I poked my head outside, searching for Violet. No sign of her.

“Sophie! Sophie! Come up here!”

We were going to get caught. Violet probably hadn’t gone to call Olive. She was probably retrieving a gun. I tried to recall what had happened to Mrs. Danvers at the end of
Rebecca
but couldn’t remember. Why did I have a bad feeling that she died? Reluctantly, I climbed the stairs. I knew one thing—Roscoe wasn’t in the habit of going up to the loft. The stairs were treacherous. I paused to catch my breath at the top.

Nina and Daisy inspected an under-bed storage box on wheels. It held fourteen pairs of designer shoes, from an outrageous leopard print, to silver-gray sequins, to black suede with diamond starbursts on the five-inch heels.

Nina giggled. “I think Mindy has a shoe addiction.”

“Please tell me those are rhinestones and not real diamonds.”

Nina picked one up and slid it onto her foot. “They’re like walking on stilts! Oof!” She took it off and replaced it. “They’re all the latest designers.”

I blew air out of my mouth. “At least it’s not poison.”

“No, but this little stash is worth about fifty grand. I bet she’s hiding them from Roscoe.”

“Please. No one would kill anyone over shoes.”

Nina laughed. “Hello? Have you ever been to a major shoe sale?” Her tone dipped. “It’s ugly.”

“Put that back, and let’s get out of here. This isn’t any of our business.”

Nina rolled the shoe box under the bed. “Maybe not, but she’s not going to need those at the five-hundred-acre hunting and fishing bed-and-breakfast.”

We trod carefully down the stairs.

“I forgot about that.”

“Check for Mrs. Danvers, will you?”

“What are you doing now?”

“Looking in the kitchen for poison.”

I followed her. “Who would keep poison in the kitchen?”

“Everyone. Maybe it has to be refrigerated.” She opened a tiny pantry. “Someone has a thing for Italian dressing and olives.”

Although it was sort of interesting to peek into their lives this way, I
did
feel guilty. On the other hand, Roscoe wasn’t up to the task of searching his property for poison. I pulled open the fridge.

Nina peered over my shoulder. “Anything interesting?”

“Bottled water, more of the Italian dressing, roasted peppers in a jar, mozzarella—”

“Oh! I love those pralines. Think they would notice one missing?”

I shut the refrigerator. “How do you know they don’t have poison in them?”

She made a face at me and opened the trash can. “Violet must arrange flowers here.”

I peered inside the metal trash bin. Tiny bits of leaves and flowers had been dumped inside, along with long stems.

“Let’s go.”

We turned to find Mrs. Danvers blocking the doorway. We were trapped.

“Did you find it?” Violet asked.

“You mean the po—”

I kicked backward. My heel made contact with Nina’s calf.

“Ouch!”

Trying to smile, I asked in as sweet a voice as I could muster, “Did we find what?”

Violet pulled her chin back and studied us with cold, hawkish eyes. “The mallard print. Isn’t that why you were snooping?”

“The mallard print! No, we didn’t see it. I know Roscoe would feel much better if someone found it.”

Honestly, the woman had such a sour expression that it was hard to tell if she was angry or upset. The corners of her mouth quivered, and she fell into a chair, limp as a rag doll.

“Could I get you a glass of water?”

She stared at the floor. “There’s nothing anyone can do. I’ve done myself in.”

Nina and I exchanged a wide-eyed look. Could we get her to confess and tell us where the poison was?

“It can’t be that bad.” I tried to sound soothing.

“I’m afraid it is. I can’t undo it. It’s all my fault.”

Good heavens! She hadn’t taken poison, had she?

Nina beat me to it. She gripped Violet’s shoulders and gently shook her. “Violet! Did you poison yourself?”

Violet shrank back. “No!”

“Maybe we could help. Where did you put it?” I asked, hoping Violet would tell me where she had stashed the poison.

“Upstairs in the loft. I hid it there during the party.”

“Did you put any in the party food?” asked Nina. “There were children present!”

Violet lifted her dark eyes to meet mine. “Is she daft? Who could put a print in food?”

“Oh! You moved the mallard print from Roscoe’s den to the loft?” I squatted to her level and nearly tipped over.

“For safekeeping, you see.” Her head sagged. “I admit that I wanted to teach Roscoe a little lesson. But I didn’t mean for it to be stolen! Not really!”

“So
you
stole the mallard print.” Nina sounded annoyed, no doubt due to the “daft” remark.

Violet moaned. “Yes, yes, yes. Only I didn’t think of it as stealing because I intended to put it back when Roscoe learned his lesson.” Her voice grew thin. “But now it’s gone.”

“Someone took it from the loft.” I stated it to be clear that I understood the situation. “Mindy, maybe?”

Her eyes narrowed, which did nothing to improve her menacing appearance. “She wants to be rid of me. I watch her, you know. I hear the nasty things she whispers to Roscoe about me. She told her friend that I’d better hope Roscoe lives a long time because when she inherits everything, I’ll be the first thing she throws out. I know what goes on around here.”

Could Violet have intended to poison Mindy but ended up poisoning Roscoe by mistake?

“Who killed Heath?” blurted Nina.

“How should I know?” Violet leaned toward me. “Is she your ward? Must be difficult for you.”

I had to bite my upper lip to keep from cracking up. I nearly keeled over on my bottom. Fortunately, my legs were stiff from crouching, and my groan when I stood up disguised a chuckle. “Violet, we know you covered up Heath’s hand. Why did you do that? Who were you protecting?”

Her eyes darted around frantically. “I don’t know! I’m so afraid it’s someone in the family.”

“It might have been Mindy who murdered Heath,” said Nina.

Violet focused on Nina. “That woman wouldn’t touch mulch unless jewelry was hidden in it. Did you find the shoe collection upstairs? She hides them there so Roscoe won’t know about them.”

“Someone else might have covered him with the mulch to help her.”

“The Greenes are a respectable family. They’re the salt of the earth. Good people. Always have been. I won’t see Mindy sully the Greene name, even if she does throw me out of the house.”

Violet rose and seized the mop, her mouth pinched. “Catch that cat and leave.”

We flew out the door.

“Sheesh,” said Nina. “I’m feeling sorry for Mindy. I’d want to kick Violet out, too.”

At that moment, Cricket stepped out of the door to Roscoe’s den onto the patio, carrying a trendy designer duffle bag. “There you are! I wondered why the door wasn’t locked. Did you catch the cat?”

“Not yet,” said Nina. “You do know about Mindy’s, er, accident?”

“Isn’t it awful? I warned her about those five-inch heels. They make your legs look terrific, but they’re like walking on stilts.”

I glanced at Cricket’s feet. She wore running shoes and was using the top of one foot to rub the other calf.

“I couldn’t wear them. I would fall for sure,” said Nina. “Everyone else is at the hospital. The only one left here is Mrs.… Violet.”

“Poor thing. I’m sure she’s distressed.” Cricket swung the bag off her shoulder and set it on the patio. “I just stopped by to see if she wants a ride to the hospital.”