High Marks for Murder (A Bellehaven House Mystery Book 1) (13 page)

"I don't know." Olivia kicked the toe of her black oxford shoe against the sweeper's nose. "I'll think of something, though." She shifted her glance to the bucket of water.

Grace's dread thickened as she watched a wicked smile cross over the other girl's face.

"I know," Olivia murmured. She grinned and rubbed her hands together. "I know exactly what I'm going to do. Mona won't even see it coming."

Grace whimpered. "Oh, no, Livvy. Please, don't. She'll know it was you and we'll both be chucked out of here. I know it."

Olivia shook her head. "The debs are always playing tricks on her. I heard that someone tied Mona's shoelaces together once and she fell flat on her face. Wish I could have seen that."

"I don't like, it, Livvy. She'll know it was us, I tell you."

"Nah." Olivia shook her head. "She'll never know for sure who did it."

"Did what?"

"Wait and see. It'll be good, that's all I'm going to tell you for now."

She started shoving the sweeper back and forth over the carpet, its wheels squeaking so loudly Grace couldn't even think. She didn't want any part of whatever Olivia had
planned, but somehow she knew no matter what she did, she'd share the blame for whatever happened to Mona, and this time they'd lose a lot more than days off.

Normally Meredith enjoyed a ride in the carriage.
She found it most pleasant to sit back and watch the countryside roll past her without any effort on her part. She liked listening to the jingling of the harness and the clatter of Major's hooves on the hard surface of the road.

The poor horse didn't get out much, and was beginning to get a middle-aged spread around his belly. That might have concerned her on a normal day, but this morning she sat with her shoulders hunched and her jaw clenched as the carriage rattled along the twisting lanes that led to Davie's house.

In her rush to get there, she had completely forgotten to mention the memorial garden to Tom. That would have to wait now until she'd taken care of this business with his assistant.

Davie's father would no doubt be tending to his farm, but Meredith hoped Davie's mother would be at home and able to set her mind at rest about the young lad.

The moment Reggie halted Major in front of the farmhouse, Meredith opened the door and climbed down.

Reggie jumped down from his seat at the same time and frowned at her. "I would have given you a hand, m'm, if you'd waited a moment."

"That's all right, Reggie. I shan't be but a minute or two. Would you please lead Major over there to that patch of grass where he can graze." She pointed to a patch of thick grass across the road."

"Very well, m'm." Looking somewhat disgruntled, Reggie led Major over to the other side of the road.

Paying him no attention, Meredith opened the gate and walked up the path, her feet crunching on the gravel.

Mrs. Gray must have heard her coming, as the front door opened the minute Meredith reached the step.

"Mrs. Llewellyn!" the farmer's wife exclaimed. "How nice of you to call."

Meredith hesitated. If something terrible had happened to Davie, his mother might not yet be aware of it. On the other hand, if he was responsible for Kathleen's death, it would all come out sooner or later. There seemed nothing for it but to bring up the subject immediately. "I've come to inquire about Davie," she said, wondering how on earth she was going to phrase the questions she needed to ask.

"Oh, that's very kind of you, m'm." Mrs. Gray pulled the door open wider. "Won't you please come in? I'll pop a kettle on the hob for a nice cup of tea."

Nodding in agreement, Meredith stepped into the cozy parlor. The smell of bread baking made her mouth water, and it was with some effort that she said, "Thank you, Mrs. Gary, but I'm afraid I don't have time for tea. We were wondering why Davie didn't come in to work today. Tom is quite concerned about him."

Mrs. Gray's expression changed to bewilderment. "Didn't you get the message I sent with Jim? He was supposed to leave a message when he dropped off the milk at your school this morning."

Meredith frowned. "Really? I wonder who got the message. Tom didn't hear it and I certainly didn't." She glanced out the window to where Reggie was standing next to the carriage, hands in his pockets, his lips pursed in a whistle. "I'll have to make some inquiries," she added grimly. "I do hope there's nothing seriously amiss with Davie?"

"Nothing a day or two in bed won't cure." Mrs. Gray
ran a nervous hand over her bound hair. "Davie's stomach is giving him trouble, that's all. He's been really upset ever since that Miss Duncan died. Hasn't been eating properly, that's the trouble. He thought a lot of her, our Davie."

"As did we all." Meredith hesitated. "Did Davie happen to go out at all last Saturday night?"

Mrs. Gray looked puzzled. "Go out?"

"I was just wondering if he happened to be at the school. We're trying to piece together what actually happened to Miss Duncan and it would be helpful if someone had seen something that might help."

Davie's mother shook her head. "Davie was home here at five o'clock, just like he is every night. He spent the evening helping his dad mend a cart wheel."

"He didn't go out after that?"

"No, m'm, he didn't. I can say that for sure." She leaned forward a little and whispered, "I don't like telling people this, but our Davie walks in his sleep. I had a lock put on his door and I lock him in at night. Afraid he'll fall down the stairs and hurt himself, I am."

"Ah." Meredith smiled. "Don't worry, Mrs. Gray. I shan't say a word about it to anyone. Just tell Davie to come back when he's feeling better."

"Oh, he'll be back tomorrow, Mrs. Llewellyn. I'm sure of it." She glanced across the room to a door on the other side. "Are you sure you won't stop for a spot of tea?"

"Thank you, no. I must get back to my class." Meredith headed for the door. "But I do appreciate the offer."

"Not at all, m'm. It's a pleasure to see you." The farmer's wife opened the door. "And I hope they catch whoever hit that poor Miss Duncan over the head, indeed I do. Nasty bit of work, whoever did that."

Meredith tried not to show her concern as she bid the
woman good-bye. It seemed as if word had spread outside the school that Kathleen's death was no accident. At least it appeared that Davie had nothing to do with it, which greatly relieved her.

But now she was back to the big question again. Who had killed Kathleen, and why?

Deep in thought, she hardly noticed the passing scenery on the way back, and was surprised when Reggie halted Major in front of the school gates.

She left him to stable the horse and hurried up the driveway to the school. The jangling of the bell signaling the commencement of classes echoed through the corridors as she headed for her classroom.

Thirteen pairs of eyes followed her all the way to her desk. Accustomed to seeing her waiting in her chair when they filed into the room, her pupils no doubt were wondering what on earth had possessed her that morning. First she'd dashed off before breakfast was over and now here she was, tearing into the classroom at the very last minute instead of waiting sedately at her desk.

Still sorely out of breath, she barely managed a greeting before turning to the blackboard. The subject for that class was a study of the works of Emile Munier, and she began to write his name. Halfway through his surname the chalk broke, resulting in a jagged smear instead of neat letters. Someone behind her giggled, and she turned sharply to utter a rebuke.

The words never left her mouth. Standing by the window, as clear as day, hovered the ghostly figure of Kathleen.

Chapter 11

"You've got to help me," Olivia said, as she shoved
the carpet sweeper back in the cupboard. "I can't do it all by meself."

"I'm not going to help you do nothing," Grace declared. She wrung out the mop and squeezed it in next to the sweeper. "I'm going to stay out of it."

"Are we friends or not?" Olivia dug her hands into her hips and glared at her.

Grace swallowed. She could sense that she was being backed into a corner and knowing Olivia, she'd get her way. Angry at herself for being such a softie, she muttered, "You know we're friends."

"Then why won't you help me?"

"Because you'll get us into big trouble, that's why."

"No I won't. Mona will never know it was us. She'll think it were that Loretta and that roommate of hers. They're always playing pranks on people, them two."

"What if she does find out it's us?"

"She won't." Olivia grabbed her by the arm. "Come on. She'll be doing her rounds by now. We can sneak into her room with the bucket—"

Grace halted, dragging Olivia to a stop. "What bucket? What are you going to do?"

Olivia grinned. "Fill it with water and balance it over the door. Then when Moaning Minnie pushes the door open, the bucket overturns and pours the water . . . all . . . over . . . her." She'd spluttered out the last words through gusts of laughter.

Grace wasn't laughing. "You're off your flippin' rocker, you are."

Olivia shook her head, still giggling. "No, really. I saw it in a film down at the cinema. These two blokes did it to another bloke. You should have seen him. Soaking wet, he was . . ." She broke into another bout of laughing.

"I'm not going to do it." Grace pulled her arm free and started marching down the hallway to the kitchen.

"Spoilsport. Scaredy-cat!" Olivia danced behind her. "I'll get Reggie to help me, then. He'll do it if I promise to give him a kiss."

Shocked, Grace halted once more. "You wouldn't!"

"I'll have to if you won't help me."

Torn between her fear of reprisal and her loyalty to her friend, Grace wavered, then said weakly, "All right, I'll help. But don't blame me if we both end up in the workhouse."

Olivia rushed over to her and hugged her. "I knew you was really my friend. Come on. I'll get the bucket and you bring a chair. We'll need one to stand on."

Grace followed her to the kitchen, her heart hammering so hard she thought it would explode inside her chest. Every instinct told her she was making a terrible mistake,
but she couldn't seem to help herself. When Olivia said jump, she jumped.

One of these days, she promised herself, she'd learn to stand up to her friend and say no. For the time being, however, it looked very much as if she'd be involved in yet another of Olivia's disasters. She didn't even want to think about what might happen if they were caught. It would be lights out for both of them, that was for sure.

For several seconds Meredith could do nothing but
stare at the misty outline of Kathleen's ghost. She stared so long that several of the young women turned their heads to see what she was looking at so intently.

Fully expecting screams to erupt, Meredith braced herself. Instead, the girls looked back at her as if she'd gone completely out of her mind.

It took her several more seconds to realize that they couldn't see what she could see. Kathleen's image still hovered there, so clearly she could see the expression on her late friend's face. She could think of only one word to describe it. Desperation.

Even so, it was apparent that she was the only one in the room who could actually see the apparition, since by now everyone in the entire class had looked over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

Meredith cleared her throat. "I was hoping that the rain had stopped," she said, waving her hand in the general direction of Kathleen's ghost. "I thought we . . . er . . . might all go outside to study . . . ah . . . the still life that was so . . . uh . . . prominent in the works of Manet and Cézanne."

The response to her stuttering announcement brought only blank stares. Trying valiantly to ignore the ghostly fig
ure by the windows, Meredith fixed her eye on a student in the front row. "We will . . . er . . . select some items to bring back to class, such as . . . um . . . ferns, twigs, flowers—"

She broke off abruptly as Kathleen's transparent arms lifted up and down in a sort of languid frenzy. There she goes again, Meredith thought, with just an edge of irritation. The very mention of flowers seemed to throw Kathleen into a dither.

She frowned at the ghost and shook her head. Really, this was all becoming quite a distraction.

Still glaring in the direction of the windows, she said firmly, "Since it is still raining, however, that will have to wait for another day. In the meantime, we will study the life and works of Emile Munier."

She turned her back on the windows and carefully finished writing the name on the blackboard. Facing the class again, she began, "Munier was born in Paris on June 2, 1840. He—"

She broke off again as a sharp movement from the windows caught her eye. Kathleen was pointing, or rather more like jabbing a finger, at the group of students seated in front of her.

Meredith followed the gesture, but it was so vague she couldn't pinpoint the target of Kathleen's urgent signals. Frustrated, she looked back at the ghost. "What is it you're trying to tell me?"

Kathleen threw her arms out in an expansive arc, then faded rapidly into a mere wisp of smoke. In the next breath, she'd disappeared entirely.

A rustle of whispers among the girls called Meredith's attention back to her duties. Only then did she realize she'd spoken out loud. She cleared her throat, took a firmer grip on the piece of chalk, and turned back to the blackboard.
Puzzling out what Kathleen wanted so badly to tell her would have to wait until she was no longer in full view of thirteen very curious young ladies.

Somehow she managed to get through the rest of the class, though she couldn't resist an occasional peek at the windows whenever the students had their heads down.

Kathleen failed to reappear, however, though Meredith was far from reassured. If the ghost intended to make a habit of popping up all over the place willy-nilly, Meredith would have to make it quite clear that she did not appreciate the distraction.

Though how she would convey that, while apparently unable to communicate on any viable level, was quite the mystery. Somehow she would have to find a way to interpret Kathleen's signals, vague as they were, and set the poor woman's mind at rest. Perhaps then she could continue on her journey and leave everyone else in peace.