Organized for Murder (14 page)

"Keith?" Sophia revolved on her stiletto heel. Mrs. Baxter paused in the hall. "Ah, yes. McKenzie. You're married to Keith McKenzie." Sophia pursed her lips. "It's often quite surprising to find who men choose as their mates."

"Miss Sophia!" Mrs. Baxter brought a hand to her shocked face.

Kate willed her own expression to stay blank. "You must hear that often about your own marriage."

Anger darkened Sophia's ivory complexion. She pivoted and stalked away. Kate heard chortles from the group behind her, the laughter increasing to full volume at the thunderous slam of the front door.

"Way to go, Kate." Danny patted her shoulder. "Wish I'd known that was the easiest way to get her to leave."

Kate stumbled a little on weak knees.

Meg smiled at her. "I'm proud of you. You're learning, Katie. You're really learning."

"May we continue?" Walker asked, the only person not exhibiting or trying to hide a smile. It was unclear whether he was afraid to show his feelings about a woman whose business affected his own, or if he simply had no sense of humor.

The tour left Kate exhausted and Meg wide-eyed. The adventure began in the library crowded with medieval weapons and nineteenth century medical equipment. The group worked its way through guest bedrooms that housed such disparate furnishings as board games and train paraphernalia, past a sewing room storing geological specimens, and a computer room doubling as an antique Venetian mask cache. On and on they walked, finally arriving in the conservatory/wildlife sanctuary near the entrance to the greenhouse.

"We don't need an inventory of the plants, but I believe the rest of the rooms will more than keep you busy," Walker remarked as everyone formed a semi-circle in the conservatory. A brilliant assortment of tropical birds, housed in a Victorian-styled aviary, screeched their displeasure at having company. "Perhaps we could retire to the parlor."

"Good idea, Charles," Bill replied.

Kate found Danny at her side and decided to try striking another task off her list. "I'd seen the greenhouse, of course, but didn't realize Amelia had birds. Who'll take care of them?"

"The fowl will go to the zoo in Boston most likely." He scowled over his shoulder. "No one liked the damn things except Gramma. I hope I get the orchids, though."

"Amelia grew orchids?" Kate prodded.

"No, I did. But she paid for fitting out their area of the greenhouse," Danny explained. "They're very fragile. The plants need special heaters and meticulous care."

"You helped with all the plants?"

"Me and Uncle Thomas."

They passed a tall vase of tiger lilies on a table in the hall and Kate asked, "Did you grow those?"

"Yeah, sure." Danny stopped and ran his left index finger along one of the orange blooms. Kate saw "Natalie 2K" scrawled in blue ink on his palm, then turned her attention back to catch the wistful expression on his face. He said, "Gramma liked forcing bulbs to keep flowers in the house year round."

With a clear view through the doorway, she noticed nearly everyone had taken seats in the parlor, the same place she'd last spent with Amelia. White roses graced the coffee table. "Is someone still picking flowers for the house?"

Danny nodded. "Uncle Thomas. He's kind of a creature of habit, and it was his job to keep fresh flowers throughout the place. He's done it for years. Goes around, checks which bouquets need changed, brings in newly cut ones."

"That's nice," Kate said. "Sort of a continuing tribute to his mother."

His face darkened and he shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

As the teen shifted from foot to foot, Kate wished she had more time to pump him. He seemed almost ready to say something, just as Walker called from the parlor. "Ms. McKenzie…Oh, there you are."

"We're coming, Mr. Walker." Kate stepped across the wide, marbled hall. "Danny was telling me about the plants that are grown here."

"Yes, Miss Amelia was a renowned horticulturalist," Walker said. "The greenhouse and its contents are already taken care of separately in a codicil she recently added to the old will. The greenhouse is self-contained, so there is no need for an inventory before everything goes to the Hazelton Garden Club."

Kate heard a gasp. Thomas, sitting on a chair by the window, turned pale. "A new codicil?"

Danny spoke up in a strangled voice, "You…you mean the plants…they'll all go outside the family?"

"The structure as well," Walker said, before turning officious again. "That's a bit of letting the cat out of the bag at this point, though there shouldn't be much concern. The monetary value will be small compared to everything else. Once she made that small change, however, Amelia decided to make more, which led to my drawing up the new will. In the meantime, Ms. McKenzie, what kind of hourly fee do you require, or would you prefer to provide a price on the entire job?"

"I don't think—"

"We cannot possibly give you a price at this time," Meg cut in, pulling Kate down onto the settee beside her. "We need to regroup at the office, plan what resources are required. Why don't we send you a complete proposal on Monday morning?"

"Yes, yes," Walker nodded. "A proposal early Monday would be most efficient. Then you can begin in the afternoon. We can't get this project started soon enough."

"Uh—" Kate began.

"Absolutely," Meg spoke over her.

*

Kate followed the action out her kitchen's bay window as her husband and children competed one-on-one with Meg's all-male bunch on the Berman's improvised back patio/basketball court. Gathering dusk settled over the group and automatic lights came on around the neighborhood. She wondered about people and relationships. Gil had the trustworthy, fair good looks of a television news anchor that seemed wasted with a print news career. Meg always appeared an auburn willow beside him, completing the picture of a golden couple. Now knowing about the affair, Kate marveled at her friend's steadfastness, wishing for more information but not comfortable enough to ask. Across the table, a pencil to her smiling lips, the redhead watched her three men join forces to take the lead. Kate sighed.

Meg turned an emerald gaze her direction. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, just…everything…"

"Don't get your stomach all knotted up over this job." Meg's smile grew as she tapped her pencil eraser on the paper before her. "How many times will you be able to work with big-moneyed lawyers who say 'Damn the cost'?"

"That's not exactly what he said."

"Pretty much. Anytime they offer you their employees as help, say they need something big done in the next sixty days, and are ready to accept any price, they're basically saying money is no object."

"When did he say he would accept any price?"

"When we said 'the cost proposal would be sent Monday morning,' and he said 'good,' we could start the same afternoon."

"I don't think he meant—"

Meg raised a hand. "Trust me, he did."

Kate shook her head. "You're probably right, but we can't do this job. The more I think over everything, the more I realize we need to use our bid to get us into the house one more time, then leave and never go back."

"Think of the college money you can set aside for the girls," Meg coaxed. "The vacation you can take to, say, Disney World. Would you be able to swing a summer trip if you don't do the job?"

"We'll be lucky to finish the inventory before school starts in fall. The only way we can accomplish the job in sixty days is if we spend the following six months recuperating. Forget leaving town this summer."

"Okay, a winter vacation instead. Christmas in San Diego. Think of escaping the cold and snow."

"As pleasant as that sounds," Kate said wistfully, "my family wouldn't buy it. They're diehard snow bunnies." She sighed. "And to be honest, I kind of like the
Ye Olde Christmas Card
look of Vermont during the holidays."

Meg threw her hands in the air. "You're going to argue with everything I say, aren't you?"

"It's simply too much for two people. The money would be wonderful, yes, but we'll be working twelve-hour days. Are you ready for that?"

"Even with Walker's law clerk?"

"We need more help than just data entry. We could probably use a museum curator on staff, too, but one who specializes in
everything
." Kate poured herself another cup of coffee. "Besides, I'm not comfortable having a law professional with us on a job we're taking as a means to return stolen property. Even if we didn't steal anything."

"I hate when you're realistic."

"I'm always realistic. Does that mean you always hate me?"

"You know what I mean."

They were startled by the doorbell chime.

"Who could that be?" Kate headed for the front, checking as she did to be sure the fathers' and kids' basketball game was still casualty free.

"You're obviously more in tune with doing the job than you want to believe," Meg called. "And itching to get back to this bid without any interruptions."

Her friend's optimism made her grin as she opened the door, but the happiness faded instantly as she recognized the visitor. Lean as a leopard and just as deadly, Valerie James, local decorating diva and Kate's ascribed business enemy, stood tall in leather boots and a jacket that cost more than Keith's last paycheck.

"Hello, Valerie." She forced a nice tone. As much as Kate disliked the woman, she appreciated having a steady babysitter in Tiffany. "I didn't see you walk up."

"My little Miata was swallowed behind your behemoth on wheels." Valerie pointed toward the driveway. "Since your van was outside, I knew you were home. Though, how you can stand driving such a clumsy thing—"

It seemed best to ignore the remark. "What can I do for you?"

"You can start, darling, by inviting me in," Valerie replied, the bored drawl adding a silent "of course" to her words.

Kate stepped aside. "Meg and I were just having coffee in the kitchen."

"Going over your bid, I suppose." Valerie's heels rang on the entry's parquet floor.

Shocked to silence, Kate followed. They were in the kitchen before she could ask, "How did you learn about our Nethercutt bid?"

"I told you there are no secrets in Hazelton," Meg said, frowning. "What business is it of yours, Valerie?"

With an elegant shrug, the designer replied, "I came to offer my services. During a phone call this evening with Sophia, I discovered, Kate, that you might be in over your head." She gave a half-grin. "I'm redoing the White mansion's master suite while Sophia's husband is convalescing in the hospital due to some geriatric malady." Then she waved her hand, much the way Sophia had done earlier that day. "The room's going to be truly stunning. Anyway, we were discussing the finishing touches, and she suggested I get with you and offer my services in inventorying the Nethercutt collections. I might be interested in some pieces for my more wealthy clients. I'm getting new referrals every day. Working on the inventory will put me right in the thick of it, you might say."

"You might say." Kate echoed.

"Great idea, Valerie. What would you want for an hourly rate?" A tiny wink from the redhead warned Kate to play along.

The decorator quoted a rate several levels higher than the pair had previously discussed. Meg nodded and jotted the number down on her pad. A few small details later Valerie swept out of the door, reminding Kate for all the world of a fur-less Cruella De Vil on her way to view Dalmatian hides.

"Okay." She confronted Meg. "I didn't ask while she was here, but now I have to. Have you lost your mind?"

A smug expression filled her friend's face. "Think about it. Sophia doesn't want us. For help she suggests someone who anyone in town knows you would say no to. I agree with your reasoning about the proffered law clerk, but we do need at least one more body. Accepting Valerie may first seem like lunacy, but think for a minute, and those crazy pieces fit perfectly in our favor. Best of all, we'll be calling Sophia's bluff."

"As in keep your enemy near so she can't attack without warning?"

"Exactly. We get the assistance we need, and Sophia's scheme loses its momentum. Valerie will likely show up late every day, and give us time to slip anything that shows up, like the box, back into the mansion. She can't help herself from dropping information she thinks makes her look important. We'll gain valuable 'intel' we wouldn't learn otherwise. Plus, we know what to charge for an hourly rate that would be the absolute top limit."

"No kidding. But we aren't going to really bid her figure are we?"

"Yes, we are." Meg's nod was decisive. "If Walker wants us to do the job as badly as I think he does, he'll pay. And I absolutely will not work for a penny less than Valerie."

Kate pulled her ear, thoughtful. "At least with her help we'll be able to work six or eight-hour days."

"And she'll be able to tell us the real names of some of that stuff. During our little excursion today I had no idea what a lot of those things were called."

"Yes. It's hard to record an inventory when you keep writing 'funny looking whatsit.'"

"Glad you agree."

"Still," Kate said, moving back to take her seat to finish compiling the bid page. "Recognizing an enemy spy is all well and good, but I hope we don't soon find ourselves with knives in our backs."

CHAPTER TEN

Sunday, April 11 –First Tasks

1) Meet George and Jane for breakfast.

2) Make sure twins have activities for church service.

3) Turn on chicken cassoulet in crock pot before leaving

*

"And then George cha-cha'd right into the table with the punch bowl, knocking kiwi-strawberry-passion fruit all over us and everyone else within ten feet!" Jane McKenzie said, joining with the entire table as they laughed at the unexpected antics of Keith's usually sedate, pipe-smoking father. George, unlit pipe to his lips, chuckled right along, a granddaughter at each side.

The McKenzie clan circled around a huge corner table at The Maple Inn, a favorite local B&B known for Vermont country breakfasts. Kate almost moaned with her first bite of blueberry pancakes.
Forget commercial air-fresheners, this place could make a mint bottling the syrup fragrance.