Never Say Dye (A Sibyl Potts Cozy Mystery, Book 3) (7 page)

“I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.
(
Henry David Thorea
u
)

Chapter Thirteen
.

Mr. Buttons and I stood in the doorway of Sue’s room, watching as Sue’s cousin, Chloe, packed Sue’s belongings into her suitcases. The girl was thin and short, with her long, brown hair tied up in a loose ponytail that bobbed behind her with every move she made. She wore an oversized sweatshirt with her name printed across it in big, blocky letters.

When the girl turned to us, I saw tears shining in her eyes, and as I watched, one slid over her bottom eyelid and ran down her cheek, leaving a long line of black mascara over her pale skin.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Chloe said.

“I know,” I said. “We’re all shocked.”

Chloe wiped her eyes. “I should get going - it’s a long drive back home.”

“Why don’t you have a nice cup of tea with some cucumber sandwiches first,” Mr. Buttons said. “That will make you feel a bit better.”

Chloe nodded, sending her ponytail in every direction. “That sounds nice,” she said.

We gathered in the dining room, Sue’s suitcases on the floor near Chloe’s feet. Mr. Buttons placed a steaming mug, filled to the brim with tea, before each of us, and a plate of cucumber sandwiches, which were minus their crusts and cut into tiny triangles.

“I knew James was bad news,” Chloe said.

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

“Well, he faked it all, of course. Everything, the ghost stuff. I mean, to be honest, we all thought it was silly - me and Sue’s friends - but she believed it and she liked doing it, and what’s wrong with a hobby, you know? But it was all a joke to James. He faked it. We could tell right at the beginning.”

“You could tell?” Mr. Buttons said.

Chloe sniffled and nodded. “We watched their videos, and we could tell it was all fake, but Sue just refused to believe it. I mean, she refused to believe he would fake it, not that she refused to believe in ghosts. But we could tell – it was obvious.”

I sipped my tea, and then turned to her. “I take it you don’t believe in ghosts?”

Chloe shook her head. “No, of course not. I wish I did though, now that Sue has gone. I wish I thought she was with me still, right in this room with us, but I just can’t.”

I nodded. “Do you think James did something to Sue?” I asked. I hadn’t planned to be so forthright, but thought I might as well take the opportunity.

Chloe was silent for a moment. She took a sip of tea, and then shook her head as she placed her cup back upon the saucer. “No,” she said finally. “I met him on several occasions. He doesn’t seem like that. Well, maybe I’m wrong. Is he here?”

“James? No, they’re out filming at some other locations. There are lots of local ghost stories, so I guess they want to check some out,” I said. “You know, you’re welcome to stay here tonight - it’s getting late.”

Chloe nodded, but then she smiled and the nod turned into a shake. “I don’t think so,” she said. “That’s nice of you, but Sue died here. I couldn’t bring myself to stay here. I really should get going now. I’ll finish my tea, though.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” I said.

“Sure.”

I looked at Mr. Buttons, and he nodded slightly.

“Had anyone ever threatened Sue?”

Chloe laughed, the first time she had done so since arriving at the boarding house. “No, absolutely not,” Chloe said. “Sue was great; everyone loved her. She was a wonderful person.”

I persisted. “How did she get into the ghost stuff?”

Chloe shrugged. “You know, I don’t really don’t know.” She stood up. “I should go.”

“Thanks for talking with us,” I said, standing as well.

Chloe picked up Sue’s suitcases, and then she left. I went with her to the door and helped her out, and then I returned to the dining room and sat across from Mr. Buttons.

“So James has always been faking it?” Mr. Buttons asked.

“Sounds like it.”

“Did he kill that girl?”

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t know.”

We sat like that for some time, in the dining room, our own cups of tea hardly touched, and the liquid within the cups cooled and still we sat, thinking. We did a lot of thinking together, and somehow it seemed as if we were smarter when we sat silently next to one another. Finally I stood up – the sky was growing dark, and I knew I should get home.

When I got home, the sky was black and the stars were out. I fed Sandy, and then sat on my front porch for a moment and thought about Sue, and then I ran through possible suspects.

There was Dorothy, who had a violent temper, and there was James, with his smug face, and the way his eyes never seemed to be open quite enough, as if he were always in the middle of telling a secret. Chloe had seemed to believe that James could not possibly be the killer, but the more I thought about it, the less sure I was.

Finally as the night drew on, I went inside. I went straight to bed, but sleep eluded me. Instead, I thought some more about everything. I tossed and turned for hours before I finally fell asleep.

I had a dream about Chloe, and Sue. In my dream, Chloe was watching television, a show about ghost hunting, and James was on the screen, speaking to the camera. Behind Chloe, the door swung open, and there was Sue, her face as white as a sheet. Sue was floating, her arms outstretched. She was a ghost in that dream; no one would have been able to mistake that. In the dream, Sue floated to the television and turned it off, but Chloe did not see her.

I sat up in bed and thought about the dream. It was strange. I had never had a dream before that didn’t include me. It was as if I was simply part of the audience. It made me uneasy. I knew it was a clue, perhaps as to the identity of the murderer, but what on earth did it mean? Sue had turned off the television show about ghost hunting. That was no help at all.

I got up and showered, and then went into the kitchen after throwing on shorts and a long sleeved tee shirt. I made breakfast and ate alone in silence, leaning against the kitchen counter as I spooned up mouthfuls of oatmeal. The dream still weighed heavily on my mind.

After I rinsed the bowl and set it in the sink, I went back to my bedroom to get my cell phone. I sat on the edge of my bed and scrolled through my contacts until I came to Chloe. Cressida had been in the hospital when the police had notified Chloe of Sue’s passing, so they had given Chloe my phone number to make arrangements to collect Sue’s things. I still had her number saved.

“Hello?” Chloe asked. It sounded as if she was driving.

“Hi, it’s Sibyl.”

“Oh, hi.”

“Are you okay? On the road already, or did you drive straight through the night?”

“No, I stopped, but I got an early start. I couldn’t sleep much. I kept having bad dreams.”

“About Sue?”

“Yes,” Chloe said.

“I had one too,” I admitted, but I didn’t tell Chloe that she had been in it as well. “Do you mind if I ask you something?’

“No, go ahead,” Chloe said.

“Did Sue ever try to stop James from having a television show?” There was a moment of silence, and I thought that the connection had broken. “Hello, Chloe, are you there?”

“Oh yes, sorry. Funny you should ask; I just remembered that Sue was upset when the network picked up the pilot. She didn’t say why.”

I was afraid Chloe would ask me why I wanted to know, so I changed the subject. “Thanks. Well, I was just checking on you. Do you mind calling me when you get home so I know you made it all right?”

Chloe laughed. “I will.”

“I don’t even really know you or anything,” I said. “I just…” I didn’t know what else to say, so the words trailed away, fading as quickly as they were said.

“I understand,” Chloe said. “I’ll call you. Thank you.”

“Thanks,” I said, and then I hung up. I sat on the edge of my bed for a long time, wondering why I’d had the dream about Sue, and what it could possibly mean.

“There is nothing in which the birds differ more from man than the way in which they can build and yet leave a landscape as it was befor
e
.”
(Robert Lynd,
The Blue Lion and Other Essays
.)

Chapter Fourteen
.

“Morning, Sandy. Are you ready for a walk?”

Sandy went into a spasm of excitement at the word,
walk
. She jumped up and down on the spot and twisted this way and that. After I put her leash on her, we walked to the van and were soon heading to the local dog park.

It was a lovely morning. There was a light breeze through the eucalyptus trees, and the bushland smelled lovely and fresh. The cloudless, blue sky hung over the small town like a cozy blanket and the whole atmosphere made me eager to start the day.

I enjoyed my regular, early morning walk in the dog park. Sandy looked forward to it, perhaps even more than I did, and was always eager to venture out. For me, it was the one time during the busy day that I was able to get away from my worries and concerns.

My world had been turned upside down over the past few months, but for now, I was going to relax in the peaceful surroundings of the Little Tatterford dog park.

As I walked along, I had to admit that I missed Tiny, Blake’s chihuahua. Now that Tiny was no longer staying with me, the cottage was a lot quieter; on the other hand, Sandy was less boisterous when Tiny was around, as the constant playing with Tiny tired her out. I had enjoyed watching Sandy and Tiny play, and I had enjoyed them snuggling up beside me on the couch. It was clear to me that Sandy missed Tiny. At any rate, I was hopeful I might see Tiny, and with any luck, Blake, at the dog park.

As Sandy pulled at her leash, forcing me to quicken my pace, I realized how much I loved the peaceful country town. Despite the latest events at the boarding house, Little Tatterford was my home, and I wouldn’t trade my life here for anything.

Finally, our walk was over, and we were back at the wide, open space just inside the entrance gate. I sat on a large boulder and slipped off Sandy’s leash. Sandy, freed from the constraints of her leash, ran wildly after magpies and any other low-flying birds.

Tiny appeared as if from nowhere, and Sandy headed straight over to him. The two rolled around the grass together, clearly excited that they were reunited. 

“Hey, Tiny.” I said. The thought of Blake being close by made me shiver with nervousness. I looked around in every direction, but there was no sign of him.

“Looking for me?” came a deep, masculine voice from behind.

Blake’s tall frame towered above me and I did my best not to stare at his broad shoulders, chiseled features, piercing blue eyes, tanned skin, and white teeth. I found him disturbingly appealing. It was starting to have an effect on me, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could deny those feelings.

I blushed. “I was actually looking for Tiny’s owner.” As soon as I said it, I thought it a silly thing to say.

Blake smiled. “And that would be me, so I was right, you were looking for me.”

I simply smiled in response. “Sandy and Tiny are pleased to see each other.”

“Yes, and Sibyl, I wanted to ask you something.”

I frowned. “What is it?” At that moment, Sandy ran up to me, slobbered on my jeans, and then ran back to play with Tiny some more.

“I very much appreciated you minding Tiny when I was away, and I’d like to thank you properly. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight.”

I just continued to sit, but I was shocked. Was Blake asking me on a date? Or was it simply dinner with a friend, a dinner to thank me for minding his dog?

I sat a while longer. A gust of wind blew a strand of hair across my face. I could feel Blake’s gaze upon me. I did not mean to leave him waiting; I just found it difficult to process the unexpected invitation.

The truth was, as much as I tried to deny it, I was attracted to him. The problem with that was that I was certainly not ready for any form of a relationship. My property settlement was still in process – well, to be fair, it would have all been done and dusted by now if my ex-husband didn’t have a fancy lawyer and had made mileage out of being in jail. My last relationship had been such a mess, that I was sure that now was not the time to start dating again.

On the other hand, perhaps Blake simply did just want to thank me for taking care of Tiny. I had to consider the possibility that maybe there was no romantic sentiment behind the invitation. Regardless of the reality, the thought helped me to keep my growing attraction in check.

I rubbed my forehead in the realization that I was unable to clear my head. One thing was sure, I did want to know more about Blake, and I did want to be around him.

“Sure, thank you,” I finally said, earning a smile from Blake.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said. “C’mon Tiny, let’s go.”

I watched as Tiny and Blake jogged away from us, up the trail alongside the gully flanked by a row of silver top, stringybark, eucalyptus trees. I sat there a little longer and thought about Blake’s ex-girlfriend. I had never met her, of course, as by all reports, they had broken up over two years earlier.

That evening, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my dismal excuse for a closet, while Sandy peered into the closet too, no doubt thinking that dog treats were hidden inside. Soon, Blake would collect me to take me to dinner. I was facing a girl’s worst nightmare - I had nothing to wear. My closet was filled with jeans, shorts, and shirts – no nice dresses.

“Aha!” I exclaimed, and Sandy looked up at me expectantly. “I’d forgotten about that black dress I bought online ages ago. I know it must be here somewhere. Now if only I can find it.”

I rummaged through my drawers and closet like a mad woman. Soon, garments were strewn everywhere and the room was covered with a blanket of clothes and shoes. Even Sandy was now hidden under a pile of shirts, skirts, and bras.

“Found it!” I shouted after pulling a sock from Sandy’s mouth. My excitement soon faded when I checked the time. I had exactly twenty minutes to get myself together before Blake arrived. I ran into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Fifteen minutes later, I did not recognize the image in the mirror. The long black dress fitted like a glove and hugged me in all the right places. Furthermore, by some miracle, I had managed to do a flawless job with my makeup. I gathered my purse and sprayed my favorite, and only, perfume on my wrist before snatching up a pair of pearl earrings. At that very moment, there was a knock on the door.

I froze. The rush to prepare had prevented me from being too anxious, but now a terrible bout of nervousness hit me all at once. My heart raced out of my chest. Butterflies churned horribly in my stomach.

I adjusted my dress, glanced at my reflection for the last time, and walked toward the door. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Blake spoke before I could. “Wow, Sibyl, you look stunning,” he exclaimed. “You look beautiful.”

I felt myself blush horribly. “Err, thanks,” I stammered. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I then silently scolded myself for saying something so lame.

Blake led the way to his car. He held the door open for me, before making his way around to the driver’s seat.

There was silence in the car. My nerves had left me well and truly mute, and Blake appeared to be focused intently on the road. I suddenly felt over dressed, shy, and uncomfortable. Did I think the date was more than what he had in mind? Did I overdo my clothes? Was Blake stunned by the fact that I was so dolled up, that it left him speechless? Was he thinking it was only a thank-you dinner after all?

We barely exchanged a word in the twenty minutes into Pharmidale, and so I was relieved when Blake turned his car off the highway. My relief was short-lived when I saw that we were heading for Three Orchards, the most expensive restaurant in Pharmidale.

When the hostess led us across the floor of the lavish restaurant, I held my breath with every step. I had never been there before, but I had heard of its reputation. Long, crystal chandeliers provided a muted light. The tables were set with wine glasses, plates and cutlery of the highest quality. Soft jazz music played in the background, and the restaurant was abuzz with Pharmidale’s wealthiest. I could not help but feel out of place.

“Have you ever been here before?” Blake asked, finally breaking the ice, once we were seated at an intimate, corner table.

I chuckled. “No, I haven’t. I’ve heard quite a bit about the place, though. I must admit, I’ve always wanted to come here, so thank you for bringing me.”

“Not a problem.” He smiled. “I really wanted to thank you for taking care of Tiny. I could tell he had a great time at your place. He and Sandy make quite a pair.”

I smiled, but my stomach churned yet again. Was this Blake’s way of making it clear that this was not a date – that he was only taking me to dinner to thank me for minding Tiny?”

“And it was good of you to take Tiny to dog training, too,” he added.

“That was Mr. Buttons,” I said. “Perhaps you should’ve brought him to dinner, too.”
And next time, Sibyl, think before you speak
, I added silently.

I need not have been concerned, as Blake clearly considered my remark quite funny. When he finished laughing, he said, “I don’t find Mr. Buttons nearly as attractive as I find you, Sibyl.”

I didn’t know where to look. Perhaps this was a date, after all. I really needed Patti Stanger here to explain it all to me. All I could do was stare at my wine glass and hope my face wasn’t as beet red as it felt.

After that initial fright, the rest of the evening went by smoothly. We talked about everything from sports to the local wilderness area. The conversation flowed easily, and both of us avoided any mention of the poisonings. At times, Blake had me in tears of laughter with his witty sense of humor while at the same time, making me feel relaxed and comfortable. I could be myself with him, and by dessert, I felt as if I had discovered a whole new side of Blake.

Of course, I still had my reservations. I was still reeling from a painful divorce - I mean, divorces are bad enough, but not everyone’s ex-husband tries to kill them - and I wasn’t ready to fall in love again. I had a bad track record with men, and I had no intention of making the same mistake, and falling for a man who seemed ideal at the time, only to find out years later that it was all a big blunder.

“I really enjoyed your company tonight, Sibyl,” Blake said, as we headed back down the highway to Little Tatterford.

I muttered, “Yes, likewise,” in reply. I really did need dating help. For a start, I needed to know whether or not this was actually a date.

When we arrived at my cottage, Blake again opened my door. We walked together the short distance to the cottage, and I took out my key.

“Good night, Sibyl,” Blake said.

I looked up at him to say goodbye, and then caught my breath as Blake leaned in closer. He was so close, I could smell the subtle scent of his aftershave, and his breath tickled my skin. I took a deep breath in anticipation of Blake’s next move. Blake pressed his lips against my cheek in a soft, short kiss.

Then he was gone. I leaned against the door, watching him drive away. “Yes, it was a date, after all,” I said aloud. “I’m sure he wouldn’t kiss Mr. Buttons.”