A Devious Lot (Antiques & Collectibles Mysteries Book 5) (13 page)

They both laughed at the memory, and Molly felt her spirits lift a little. Gingersnap brushed up against Molly’s legs. She picked her up and let the cat put her front paws on the table to look out the window. Molly was surprised to see an elderly man pushing a wheelbarrow across the lawn.

“Tessa, who’s that man in your garden?”

Tessa looked out the window over the sink. “That’s Billy Farnham. I didn’t expect to see him here so early.”

“I thought Reggie was your gardener.”

Tessa sighed. “Unfortunately, Reggie was a no-show yesterday. The lawn is so covered with leaves, I rang up Billy and asked if he could do the raking.”

“Where’s Reggie?”

“I suspect he’s at home, sleeping off the drink,” Tessa said. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten drunk and not shown up for work. I’ve told him it has to stop. No one will ever hire him if he keeps it up.”

“Is he nuts? You’d think after killing a man in a pub, he’d never take another drink in his life,” Molly said. She watched Billy take a rake out of the wheelbarrow, and thought about Tessa’s coffee and tea chats with Tiffany in her kitchen, or, in the nice weather, probably outside on the patio. “Did Reggie ever meet Tiffany when she was visiting you?” she asked.

Tessa stirred the batter. “I believe there were a few times she was here when they exchanged a hello or good-bye, but I never heard them engage in a lengthy conversation.”

“What about Penelope? Does he know her?”

Tessa set the bowl aside. “I rather doubt it, but I suppose it’s possible.” She opened the bag of chocolate chips. “I hope you aren’t thinking he’s involved in any way in Tiffany’s death, because you couldn’t be more mistaken.”

“I’m not saying he did it,” Molly said. “But don’t you think it’s a little strange he didn’t show up for work and Penelope’s gone missing too?”

“Reggie isn’t missing,” Tessa said, mixing the chocolate chips into the batter. “As I said, he’s probably at home sleeping it off.”

“Maybe I should go by his house later and check up on him.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Tessa said. “He has a flat above the Wooley Beast.”

“Ooh, I love that shop. When you introduced me to Mrs. Baxter the other day, she said she’d give me a discount. Should I accept? Her shop didn’t seem very busy, and I want to support her business.”

“Take the discount. She makes a killing in the spring and summer months selling handspun blankets and knitted sweaters. It doesn’t matter how warm it is, people know quality when they see it.”

As Tessa grilled the waffles, Molly got up and opened the jug of Vermont Grade-A maple syrup she’d brought from home as a gift. She set the table for two, took the butter out of the refrigerator, and held the plates as Tessa piled on the waffles.

Taking her first bite, Molly moaned. “Yummy. This is exactly the way I remember your waffles.”

Tessa smiled. “I’m glad you like them, because I’ve made a big batch.”

Molly had three helpings, and when they were done eating, insisted on cleaning the kitchen. As she washed the mixing bowls, she watched Billy from the window. He finished raking and carried the last of the lawn bags to his truck in the driveway. He returned a few minutes later and knocked on the back door.

Tessa opened the door and smiled. “Good morning, Billy. You’ve had an early start this morning. The lawn looks lovely.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said. He took off his tweed cap and his wispy fly-away hair stuck straight up with static electricity. “I’ve got the bags in my truck, and a mulcher at home, so don’t you worry about a thing.”

“Splendid,” Tessa said. “Billy, allow me to introduce you to my great-niece, Molly. She’s visiting from America.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he said. Then he turned back to Tessa, all business. “I took a look at those bushes at the side of the house. They really do need a trim. I’ve got time, if you’d like me to do it.”

“Reggie should be the one to take care of it. It’s his job,” Tessa said. “But let me write you a check for the raking.” She opened a drawer and took out her checkbook. “How much do I owe you?”

He told her, and as she wrote the check, he said, “I don’t want to step on Reggie’s toes, but did you know you’ve got a hemlock growing in your garden?” Molly was scrubbing the griddle and almost dropped it in the sink. Tessa looked stunned. “I only mention it because the plant is poisonous,” he went on, oblivious to the two women’s distress. “You’ll want it taken out and destroyed.”

Tessa’s hand was paused in midair over her checkbook. “Are you sure it’s hemlock?” she managed to say.

Billy nodded. “Yes, ma’am. My brother had one in his garden a few years ago, so I recognize the ferny leaves. Had to be real careful digging it out, not to get it on the skin.”

Molly placed the griddle in the drain board to dry. “Could you show it to us?” she asked.

Billy looked surprised. “You want to see it?”

Tessa handed him the check. “We promise we won’t touch it,” she said.

He agreed to show them, and after Tessa got her cane and Molly made sure Gingersnap was safely inside the house—the last thing they needed was the cat to get near a poisonous plant—they followed him across the lawn and around the shed to the edge of the woods.

“There it is. Hemlock, sure enough,” Billy said, pointing to a ferny plant that looked harmless among a cluster of prickly shrubs.

Molly couldn’t imagine how it had got there. “Is it wild?” she asked. “Or do you think someone could have planted it?”

Billy’s eyes narrowed. “Now why would anyone want to do that?” He gave her a hard stare, at which point Molly knew she’d put her foot in her mouth. “I heard about that girl being poisoned, the one who lived down the road. You think this hemlock’s got something to do with it?”

“What? No, of course not,” Molly said, but she knew it was too late. Billy looked highly suspicious.

Tessa stared at the plant in horror, as if an alien from outer space had invaded her garden. She said, “The police are investigating, Billy. I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of things. I’ll let Reggie know about the plant and have him dig it up.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t done it already,” Billy said. “I noticed it right away.”

“Well, you do have an advantage,” Tessa said. “Your brother had a hemlock in his garden, and you recognized it, whereas Reggie’s probably never seen one before.”

Billy nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s true enough,” he said. “If you don’t want to wait for him, I can do it later today.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Tessa said.

Billy shrugged. “Have it your way. Let Reggie know I’m around if he needs a hand.”

“Thank you, I will,” Tessa said.

“Good day to you both,” Billy said.

They watched his retreating back, and when he was safely around the side of the house and out of earshot, Tessa turned to Molly, her face troubled. “This is the worst thing that could happen,” she said. “Reggie has enough trouble making a living in this village, and now Billy will tell everyone I have a hemlock in my garden and they’ll all assume he had something to do with Tiffany’s death.”

“I’m sorry,” Molly said. “I should have kept my big mouth shut.” She looked down at the plant. “But how did it get here?”

Tessa sighed. “I have no idea, but there’s nothing we can do about it, the thing is here and that’s all there is to it. The problem is Billy wagging his tongue. The entire village will know about it by nightfall.”

“He might not say anything.”

Tessa gripped her cane. “He will. Don’t doubt me on this, Molly. I’ve lived here a long, long time.”

As they walked back to the house, Molly said, “There’s one way to get to the bottom of this. Boyle will have to talk to Reggie.”

“Please don’t tell him, at least, not right away,” Tessa said. “Reggie paid a price for what he did. He shouldn’t have to go through life living under a microscope. The hemlock could be a rogue plant, its seeds blown in on the wind. Didn’t Boyle tell you they’re common in England? There could be dozens growing in the woods or in gardens all over the village.”

“Tessa, I can’t keep this from him,” Molly said. “Hemlock killed Tiffany.”

“Talk to Reggie first on your own,” Tessa said. “Ask him what he knows about it. I have faith in you that you’ll be able to judge by his reaction if he’s hiding something.”

Molly considered. “All right, I’ll do it. But if he’s not home, I’m calling Boyle. He needs to know.”

Tessa looked relieved. “Thank you for giving him a chance,” she said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Molly said.

Chapter 14

Leon Twist lived on a narrow road off the High Street in a cottage so close to its neighbor they were almost connected. There was no lawn to speak of, only a single concrete step from the sidewalk to his front door. He opened that door with a scowl on his lips and a napkin tucked into the collar of his shirt.

“Mr. Twist? I’m Molly Appleby, Tessa Paulson’s niece. I’m sorry to interrupt your breakfast.”

Upon arriving at Reggie’s address, Molly had discovered that the flats above the Wooley Beast could only be accessed through a door off the street, and that door was locked. Mrs. Baxter told her where she could find the landlord.

“Mrs. Baxter rang me up,” he said. “She told me you were on your way, and you want a key to Reggie McGee’s flat. I told her, and I’ll tell you, I’m not giving it to you.”

“But Tessa is so worried about him,” Molly said. “He didn’t show up for work, and she wants me to check on him.”

Leon shook his head. “I’m not giving you the key,” he repeated. “I don’t even know you.”

“I already told you, I’m Tessa Paulson’s niece. You can call her if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t care if you’re the Queen of England,” he said. “What do they say in America? Have a nice day.”

He started to close the door, but Molly stuck her foot in the doorway. “Please don’t,” she said. “I promise to bring the key back. Reggie could be ill, or worse . . .” She let her voice trail away ominously. Slowly Leon’s eyes grew wide as he began to imagine the worst-case scenario. Molly pressed it home. “The longer you wait, the worse it could be. You’d have to hire a hazmat unit to clean the place,” she said.

Leon sighed heavily. “Wait here,” he said.

Molly smiled. “Thank you so much,” she said sweetly.

He closed the door in her face and Molly waited on the sidewalk. When he returned a few minutes later, he’d exchanged his slippers for shoes and the napkin for a wool coat. They walked in silence to the village center. Leon opened the street door and they entered a tiny lobby with a staircase and two mailboxes, for unit A and unit B.

“Are there only two flats in the building?” Molly asked.

“Yeah,” Leon said, climbing the stairs. “Reggie’s in unit B.”

As they stepped onto the landing, Molly heard someone bang on the door downstairs. She looked over the railing, surprised to see Inspector Boyle through the glass insert in the door.

“It’s the police,” she said.

Leon frowned. “What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be right back.” She went back down the stairs and opened the door. “Inspector, what are you doing here? Did Tessa call you?”

Instead of answering, Boyle looked up at Leon, who was staring down at them from the landing. “Mr. Twist?”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“Inspector Devon Boyle, Keensburg police.” Boyle took out his badge as he walked up the stairs, Molly right behind him. “I was on my way to talk to you when I noticed you and Molly entering the building.”

Leon looked confused. “What is this? You want to talk to Reggie too?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Boyle said.

“Is he in trouble?”

“I need to talk to him,” Boyle said.

Leon nervously jiggled the key ring in his hand. “She didn’t tell me this was a police matter,” he said, glaring at Molly.

“Molly didn’t know I was looking for Reggie,” Boyle said.

Leon shrugged and opened the door to unit B. He stayed outside as Boyle and Molly went in. She hoped they’d find Reggie in bed, snoring loudly, smelling of booze, empty liquor bottles scattered on the floor. But the flat was quiet, the only movement dust motes they stirred into the air as they crossed the carpet.

Boyle did a fast sweep of the flat. The living room was filled with threadbare furniture, the tiny kitchen had a sparsely filled refrigerator and cupboards. A short hallway led to a bathroom with bright pink tiles. A toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste were on the sink. Boyle checked the towels.

“They’re bone dry,” he said.

They moved on to the bedroom. A double-sized mattress was flat on the floor and the bed was made. He dug through Reggie’s dresser and checked out a closet where clothes were hung neatly on hangers.

“It appears he hasn’t moved out,” Boyle said. He looked at Molly. “Why are you here?”

“Reggie didn’t show up for work and Tessa was worried,” she said. “I told her I’d stop by to check on him. When he didn’t answer the buzzer downstairs, Mrs. Baxter at the Wooley Beast told me Leon had a key to his flat. Why did you want to talk to him?”

“Are you aware of Reggie’s past, that he served time in prison for murder?”

“Yes, Tessa told me. She’s a strong believer in second chances. She’s afraid you’ll think he killed Tiffany because he’s an ex-con.”

“I suspect everyone, ex-con or not,” he said. “But I’ve been trying to reach Reggie. I left messages on his phone and stopped by yesterday. I thought I’d try again today, and saw you and Twist coming in. Speaking of Twist, I have questions for him.”

They returned to the living room. The door stood wide open, and Leon waited on the landing. Boyle crooked a finger at him.

“Join us,” he said. Leon came in tentatively. “Did Reggie tell you he was going away?”

“No,” Leon said. “But it’s not like we’re friends. I don’t talk to him much.”

“Is he a good tenant? Pay on time?”

“Yes, to both questions.”

“How long is his lease?”

“Oh, let’s see . . . he’s got about five months left on a one-year lease,” Leon said. “Do you think he’s on holiday?”

Boyle ignored the question. “Who lives in unit A?”