A Zestful Little Murder Read online

  Before they could relax, an auto pulled up to the front of Vi’s house. It was shiny and expensive and Vi lifted a brow at the sight of it. Who was this? A moment later, the driver opened the door of the auto, and who should appear but that Brantley fellow. Not the brother, but the one who had left Violet irritated half the night and regretting that she hadn’t just sent him from her table.

  “What’s this fellow doing here?” Vi hissed and Victor tensed. He’d gone from her lounging brother to her protective brother, but before either of them could react, Mr. Russell left Vi’s house and met Mr. Brantley by his auto.

  “Oooh,” Victor said. He was still tense, and she knew he was prepared to cross the garden and have a word with the fellows if necessary.

  The conversation was tense even though neither of them could hear a word. Mr. Brantley stepped into Mr. Russell’s personal space, putting his face near Mr. Russell’s. Rita’s father wasn’t nearly so fraught or aggressive, but Vi expected he was doing one of those moves where you were firm and polite. A sort of unyielding block to whatever it was that was wrong between them.

  “What do you think?” Victor asked low. “Business problems? They’re both aggressive, new money types, aren’t they?”

  “If you mean that they earned their fortunes, yes,” Violet answered almost absently. “Certainly, Mr. Russell did. I really don’t know anything about Mr. Brantley.”

  “That requires a special kind of person, Vi . I’m not sure we’d always find those people to be noble.”

  Violet didn’t disagree with that statement. The only part she objected to was the use of the word “noble.” She despised how people used that word, but she knew he was aware of her feelings on the subject. Instead of letting herself linger on the idea, she watched the two men. They were about one step from shoving when Mr. Russell pointed at the auto. His instructions to leave were clear, but it took Brantley a minute to comply.

  “Do you think that’s his regular driver?” Victor asked. His gaze focused on the chauffeur who opened the door for Mr. Brantley and then walked in a stately manner to the front of the auto.

  “Yes,” Violet said, frowning. It would be nice to figure out what was going on. Vi glanced at Victor and then suggested, “I bet Ginny knows something if Izzy does.”

  Victor frowned at Vi and she said, “Girls tell each other almost everything.”

  “Do they?” Victor snorted. “You’re the only one I told everything to when we were young like that.”

  “You aren’t normal, Victor my love. I made you better.”

  His snort of laughter had Vi giggling into his shoulder. They watched the auto drive away with Mr. Brantley. When the vehicle was out of sight, Mr. Russell rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. They couldn’t see his face, and both of them were dying to know what had happened.

  “So weird that those folks would follow Mr. Russell from Scotland to here.”

  “There has to be more to it,” Vi agreed. “At first I thought they were like us and our friends, sort of moving from the city to the country together. Lately, I’d been wondering if Mr. Russell invited them and his reasons for doing so. But this seems like something very different.”

  “Agreed,” Victor said. “We really should escape all this madness and travel somewhere warm.”

  “Blue water,” Vi suggested.

  “Fruity drinks,” Victor agreed. “Shall we go to Cuba again?”

  “There’s so much of the world we haven’t seen yet,” Vi countered. “What about Barbados? I just read a pirate novel that was based there. It felt like we needed to go while I read it.”

  “I don’t know, Vi. I’m not sure it’s wise to use a trashy novel as the foundation for research for travel plans. Especially since it was set, what? Three hundred years ago?”

  “It was less than literature,” Vi hedged. “I’m not sure the author ever established the year.”

  “Perhaps a more recent travel book before we decide?”

  Vi considered. “Rita has probably been or knows someone who has been.”

  “Let’s find her,” Victor suggested and then winced. “Am I too responsible now?”

  “You?” Vi joked.

  “I am a father,” Victor shot back. “There’s no way we could leave the girls. We might have to choose our locations even more carefully than talking to Rita about that one fellow who went three years ago.”

  Vi laughed, but she didn’t disagree. It was possible that they had shifted from carefree bright young things to those who were still bright and young, but now cared, and were, of course, spoiled. The more familiar she became with the world the more she realized how very, very spoiled they were.

  Vi found Ginny and Izzy swimming in the pool. It was surrounded by the columns, the lit outdoor fireplace, and the wrought iron tables that had been made to her specifications. Delilah Brantley was there too, so Vi contained her questions and took a seat far from the fire near Delilah, who was fully dressed as well.

  “Hello dolls,” Vi said happily. “This looks like fun.”

  Ginny pushed up out of the water and immediately wrapped herself in a towel. “Oh it is!”

  “Wonderful. I do hope you’re staying for lunch,” Violet told Delilah.

  Delilah wasn’t swimming with Izzy and Ginny, and the Brantley girl blushed at the question. She hesitated. “I don’t know that I can stay so long today. My mother…” Whatever the excuse was, her volume faded into nothing, and Violet let it go.

  “Where in Scotland do you live?” Violet asked.

  Again Delilah started to answer and then her replied faded into nothing. After too long to be anything other than awkward, she mumbled an apology. “I’m just a little distracted. I’m so sorry for being such poor company.”

  “Oh my dear,” Violet said, realizing she sounded like her great aunt and feeling a flash of fierce pain at the loss. “We all have days where our worries overtake us. Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Delilah paused and then shook her head. Her eyes filled with tears and she whispered low, “It’s just hard sometimes.”

  “I understand,” Violet told her gently. “I understand completely, but…. you won’t get help if you don’t ask for it.”

  Delilah nodded and a tear slipped down her face. She didn’t, however, say anything until she tried, “Would it be possible to have someone motor me back to the inn?”

  Violet nodded and stood. “I’d be happy to.”

  They crossed to the house together and Violet sent Hargreaves to get the auto from the garage. He nodded, his gaze gentle on Miss Brantley. What had Hargreaves heard? Violet wondered. He would have been just on the other side of the front door when Mr. Russell met Mr. Brantley by the auto. If the door hadn’t fully closed, Hargreaves might know exactly what was happening in Miss Brantley’s family.

  Vi shrugged into her coat and then walked down to the auto with Delilah. “Tell Jack where I went if he looks for me,” Violet said to Hargreaves and he nodded.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wakefield,” Delilah said.

  Vi examined her carefully. “How nice to get a little air. Perhaps I’ll stop by the bakery and look for something delightful.”

  Chapter 7

  Violet dropped Delilah at the back of the inn per the girl’s request. She didn’t bother asking if Delilah had slipped out. It was evident she had. Vi felt a flash of sympathy as Delilah walked around the front. Vi left the auto and followed discretely, stopping at the corner of the building to see the girl pause. Delilah’s face transitioned from worried to expressionless.

  Vi shook her head as the girl walked inside. Could Delilah have anything to do with why the Brantleys had left Scotland and come here? She returned to the auto. Why was she so bothered by what was happening with that family? It just seemed so strange that they’d have come all this way if they weren’t actually friends.

  That was it, Vi thought. She’d followed Lila and Denny to their home. They had done the same. Vi had assumed that Mr. Russell
’s friends were happier together than separately like Vi and her friends. How wrong she had been. Vi started the auto and then started back towards their house, but she noticed Mrs. Mina Bentley near the green. Vi couldn’t help but stop the auto and walk towards the small bench at the side of the green.

  “Doesn’t it look awful?” The green had turned from rolling verdant grass to a muddy pit.

  Mrs. Mina Brantley started. In the moment, she paused and then she nodded. “Yes, I suppose it does.”

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Brantley?”

  Mina blushed brightly.

  “I know I’m prying rather awfully,” Vi said, without an ounce of shame, “but sometimes we need a ready ear and someone who isn’t going to have prejudice against some members of the family.”

  Mina bit down on her bottom lip and then shook her head. “It’s just family things. To explain, I’d have to pour out years and years of explanations and history, and it still wouldn’t quite make sense.”

  Violet doubted that very much. She thought whatever was wrong could be distilled down to jealousy, a lifelong dislike, maybe money or power or rebellion, but it could be boiled down into something simple.

  “Why did you come down here?”

  Mina didn’t reply immediately, but she finally said, “Well, we all end up doing what Benedict wants in the end.”

  There was in those simple words a layer of such overwhelming fury that Violet would have flinched. Mina Brantley, like her daughter, was hiding inexplicable emotions.

  Vi wanted to offer help. She wanted to offer to fix things really. She was a born meddler, but she would never admit it aloud. Instead, she asked, “If you could do anything right now, what would it be?”

  “I suppose I would leave Scotland.”

  Vi hadn’t expected such an answer. Why didn’t she leave Scotland then? Perhaps she lived on the mercy of her brother-in-law? Vi shuddered at the very idea. Being dependent on that man? That felt like a special trip down to Hades.

  Violet waited until things got awkward and then invited Mina Brantley to the fête. “If you’re still here, it should be good fun. They’re doing a historical costume contest. I believe there will be pies, scones, biscuits to taste, and games. Perhaps a day of innocent fun is just what you need.”

  Mina Brantley nodded, but she didn’t reply, and Violet took the chance to step away herself. Did Vi want to dress up? She considered and then knew it wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t in a celebratory mood, not after the continuing saga of the Brantleys. She simply wanted to get through the week. In a day or two, Vi would join Beatrice for those country scones that were always best from a loving kitchen, and perhaps a blueberry hand pie. After that, Vi intended to escape into her house.

  Vi drove back towards the house and saw that Jack was sitting alone on the same bench where Vi had left her twin. She left the auto by the steps up to the house and crossed to her husband.

  “I noticed that you were walking with Smith,” Vi said as she approached. She stopped several feet away and Jack set the book he was reading next to him on the bench.

  “I did, in fact,” Jack told Vi. He didn’t expand and Violet waited. He rose and tangled their fingers together, tugging her deeper into the trees. The air was cooler under the spreading boughs. The chill had Vi tucking close to Jack, letting him keep her warm in the shade.

  Vi didn’t ask him anything. He knew what she wanted to know, and he might still be considering what Smith had said. Smith…Vi thought they were friends now, but did that extend to helping Jack? He didn’t begin speaking until they started walking again.

  “He said he didn’t think I would like his cases.”

  Vi waited, having to clamp down on her bottom lip to fight the reaction.

  “He also said he would love me to work with him. There was too much glee in his tone for me to be comfortable.”

  Now her feelings were conflicting. Vi took a deep breath in and then pulled Jack to a halt, curling in front of him to look up into his face. There was nothing there. Whatever ability she had to read him had been cut off, and she felt as though she were floundering. “How do you feel?”

  Jack shrugged.

  Vi’s gaze narrowed on him, and her fingers curled into his sides in frustration. He huffed a laugh at her reaction. “Vi, my love, I’m not trying to sidestep what is happening. I don’t know how I feel about it. I…”

  When his voice trailed off, she held back her irritation and examined his face. It was like he had an aura of ‘maybe’ about him. Maybe and—what was that? Vi struggled to put her finger on it for long moments where they stood pressed together under the apple blossoms.

  “Are you excited?” Vi demanded. Jack blushed and she gasped in shock. “You are!”

  “I—”

  “You want to work with Smith. You want to work on with him on that half-criminal nonsense he gets up to.”

  Jack started to reply, but Vi curled her fingers into his side threateningly and she said, “Careful, my lad.”

  He grinned at her and she caught the merest wisp of sheepishness.

  “You’re intrigued.” Her voice was a firm statement.

  His shrug in reply was, however, insufficient for her.

  “Confess!”

  “I want to know how he does the things he does. I believe in the law, Vi. But I don’t know…there are times when the law gets in the way of things. When it protects the clever criminal. I just—I would be curious as to the hows behind some of Smith’s information.”

  Vi’s gaze searched his. Her stepmother would be appalled at such a statement. Her father would fall back on conservative views. Victor, however, would understand. Knowing that her twin would understand helped Vi see what Jack meant.

  “Like with me and what happened?” She still couldn’t quite give full voice to it.

  Jack nodded.

  Her gaze searched his again. Those beautiful dark, loving eyes were still filled with the horror of what had happened. Of what Preston Bates had intended. He hadn’t healed. Not in the least. His wife had been hunted. He’d used all his skills, and perhaps they hadn’t been enough.

  “All right,” Vi said simply.

  “You won’t hate me if you have to hire a man to come spring me from lockup some day?”

  Vi shook her head. “I won’t hate you for that.”

  Jack took a deep breath in and it seemed that her flat honesty was all he needed. “I won’t work with him forever.”

  “Of course,” Vi said. “I understand.”

  “But perhaps long enough to create my own non-Scotland Yard associations.”

  “Of course,” Vi repeated instantly.

  “To determine if it is even what I want. I’ll probably just—well, I don’t know. But it won’t be forever.”

  Vi lifted a brow and this time when her hands clutched his side, it was intended to give him comfort. “Jack, you can work with Smith forever if it makes you happy.”

  “Forever?” Jack laughed.

  “If it makes you happy,” she repeated firmly. “I trust you.”

  Chapter 8

  The dawn of the fête was nothing short of idyllic. The sun crept up through the clouds, and Izzy’s singing while she dressed didn’t bother Vi. Was it possible that Violet had become accustomed to the singing? Perhaps she’d even started to enjoy it? Vi turned onto her side and tickled Jack’s chest until he reached up and grabbed her hand, holding it pinned.

  “There she goes again,” Jack muttered, turning onto his side but keeping her hand captive. He pulled a pillow over his head with a huff and then settled into the bed.

  “I’ve decided I like it,” Vi said.

  Jack turned onto his back, lifting the pillow from his face and demanded, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Vi said, “listen to her. She has a lovely voice.”

  Jack considered and then shook his head. “I can’t. It’s too early. I don’t believe you.”

  Vi laughed and then pushed up onto h
er elbow. “You wanted to get up early. The vicar and those elders from the church, the mayor, they’re all coming early. I believe you offered them breakfast.”

  “Why did I do that?” Jack growled.

  “I think it might have something to do with the way you think in the afternoon versus how you think now.”

  Jack groaned and whatever reply he grumbled wasn’t worth translating into awake speech. Vi ran her fingers along his shoulder just as Izzy burst into a long and loud high note. He sat up slowly. “Why are we doing this again?”

  “You found out Ham was leaving Scotland Yard and your father took you out to the pub whereupon you drowned yourself in dark ale.”

  Jack groaned again. A moment later Denny banged on the door. “Wake up, old man. The vicar arrived and I was in the breakfast room alone. I had to make up lies about checking on Lily. Who, Vi! I have Lily and Lila is sleeping. Wake up!”

  Violet rose and opened the door, taking the tiny baby into her arms. Wide, alert eyes met hers and Lila and Denny’s infant daughter burbled.

  “Hello, darling precious,” Vi cooed.

  “Hullo, hullo,” Denny replied, patting her on the top of her head. He paused and then cried, “Jack! You’re not dressed. By Jove man! The vicar!”

  Vi laughed and then shoved Denny out of the room, keeping the baby while Jack rose and changed his clothes. It took only a few minutes for him to disappear, but Violet was too taken with the baby to reply to him.

  She finally settled Lily back into sleep and then took a few moments to change. She’d already decided what to wear, so all she needed to do was throw the dress on. It was a fun orange dress with darker orange swirls. On an act of utter whimsy, she added a loose green silk jacket over the top. Vi quickly added jewelry just as baby Lily started to fuss again. She tucked her hair back with a matching orange headband and hurried to take Lily up before the baby could begin to cry.

  Vi darted up to the stairs where the nursery was set up for Lily as well as Victor’s twin daughters. Violet knocked on the door and found the nanny had returned. “Is Lila still sleeping?”