A Zestful Little Murder Read online

  “He told me that you and your friends were there for her time and again when he wasn’t. He said that he’s older and he doesn’t trust anyone with her more than you and me. When he’s gone, he wants her to have you too.”

  Vi stared at him and then let out a watery laugh when she had to dab away a tear.

  “What house?” she demanded a moment later.

  “The one with the ruins.”

  “Does Jack know?”

  Ham laughed and nodded. “The property runs into yours. I went and looked at it with Philip the other day. Vi, it’s rundown, but I think she’ll love it.”

  Vi examined his face. “You feel bad that you aren’t buying it.”

  “You can read me almost as well as Jack,” Ham muttered. “You bought the house in London?”

  Vi paused and then admitted, “Mostly.”

  “If Jack can get through the blow to his pride, I can.”

  “Will you be able to get through the blow to your pride working with Smith?”

  Ham’s shout of laughter surprised Vi and she searched his face again.

  “It doesn’t bother you at all?”

  “He’s one of the best investigators I’ve ever seen. Possibly better than Jack or me. Certainly better than a good number of the detectives at the Yard. Vi, I’d have hired him in seconds to work for Scotland Yard, but he was never interested.”

  Vi’s head tilted and she tugged Ham out of the way when a herd of schoolchildren darted past them. It was as though lions had been released from the zoo.

  “My goodness,” Ham said, “they’ve gone feral.”

  Vi laughed. “That’s how I see Lily when she’s bigger. And the twins.”

  Ham shook his head. “Denny and Lila will end up with their angel, and it’ll be you or me that gets the devil. I was a good child and I suspect until her mother’s death, Rita was another angel, so probably it’ll be us.”

  Violet grinned to hear Ham speak of children so casually, then she caught sight of Jack across the archery field where locals were lining up with bows and arrows and shooting towards bales of hay with targets fixed on them.

  “Do you think he’s all right?” Violet asked Ham.

  Her friend winced. “I think he wasn’t as ready as I was to leave the Yard. He understands, however, and he’s ready to create something new.”

  “But he’ll be all right?”

  “Of course he will, Vi. Don’t worry so much.”

  Vi couldn’t help it and the thought must have been on her face.

  “He’s lucky to have you, Vi. As am I. Rita wouldn’t have moved to forgiving me without you. I’m not sure you’d have helped another gent as much, and I’m grateful.”

  Vi snorted and then elbowed him. “This is a party, my good man. No time for sincere moments of love and gratitude. Now find a spoon and do the egg race.”

  Ham’s burst of laughter had Vi echoing him until she nudged him lightly when she saw Mina Brantley slap her brother-in-law across the face and storm off. Vi watched Benedict Brantley stare after his sister-in-law and then laugh. His gaze moved around his audience, and then his gaze met Vi’s. She slowly lifted a brow at him and let a smile grow on her face at the same time.

  Benedict Brantley, the elder, scowled deeply at Violet and then stormed off himself. His brother placed a hand on his arm to stop him, but Benedict threw it off and hurried on, disappearing into the ale tent. Vi winced, guessing he would be an ugly drunk given he was horrible sober.

  She looked back at Ham, who had been watching keenly, but he only shrugged.

  Vi nodded at Jack, who had approached the gathering of burly farm hands. “You think he can win a strong man test?”

  “Over one of these farmers?” Ham laughed and shook his head.

  “Then I’ll leave him to it and see if Lila ate my Victoria sponge.”

  Chapter 10

  Violet started towards the table where she’d left Lila, Lily, and Rita, but she was sidetracked by the vicar’s wife who pulled Violet in to vote on the flower arrangements. Violet was then taken through the scones submitted for judgement. Beatrice had never been more right about country scones made by grandmothers with love. Vi found the best one, arranged to bring one to Beatrice and then escaped the vicar’s wife.

  It took only a few minutes to find Beatrice and Smith sitting near the race course. The three-legged race was on and Denny was running down the field with Ginny. Vi whooped for her ward and then took the seat near Beatrice.

  “This is the one.”

  Beatrice laughed as Smith groaned. “The scones she manipulated me with, so she could indulge?”

  Violet winked as Smith leaned back. He crossed his arms over his chest and Beatrice blithely leaned in for a bite. She closed her eyes to fully savor the wonder and then used her fork to offer Smith a bite. “See.”

  He shook his head, waving off the bite. “My appetite is turned. I’ve been betrayed.”

  Beatrice turned to him. “Are you really so upset with me?”

  Smith laughed and then leaned in to whisper, “I just learned I came behind scones in your heart.”

  Beatrice rolled her eyes and took another bite of her scone.

  “And you, Violet, you’re corrupting my perfect Bea.”

  Violet lifted a brow and then pointed out, “You wouldn’t be nearly so interested in her if you hadn’t seen the spine and wit behind her quiet facade.”

  Smith’s shout of laughter surprised Vi. It was such a real reaction. He was so very rarely sincere that what she had just seen was unique. “And then to use me against your guests.”

  “They are not my guests,” Violet told him. “As far as I can tell, Benedict Brantley is a dictator in his family, and he’s come here to ruin whatever he can.”

  Smith’s head tilted as he glanced over Vi. “You figured that out by just a few interactions? I followed him, entered his hotel room, bribed his servants, and read all of his papers to realize what he was up to.”

  “He did spend much of our dinner trying to infuriate everyone. That was a rather large clue.”

  “But the family dictator?” Smith glanced at Beatrice and then back at Vi. “How did you know that?”

  “Oh,” Vi grinned. “I leapt to that conclusion based upon the fact that he brought his wife, brother, sister-in-law, and niece to ruin his former mistress’s happily-ever-after. He’s petty and feelings don’t matter to him. No wife with a reasonable husband would go on such a journey.”

  Smith finally took a bite of the scone at Beatrice’s urging. “Don’t you care what is happening here? Corruption and manipulation. And you’re just eating scones.”

  “Once you peel back the layers of the wealthy or landed gentry types, they’re nearly all fiends with pretty dresses, fast autos, and noble lines.”

  “This is what comes from being from a long line of servants,” Smith told Violet. “See what your people have done to her people.”

  “I disagree entirely with that statement,” Violet told them. She paused long enough for Beatrice to look a little uncomfortable and then added with a grin, “Rather a lot of us aren’t fiends. Some are affable idiots.”

  “Where do you fall?” Smith asked quickly. “Idiot or fiend?”

  Beatrice shot out, “You know where they fall, Smith. You like Vi and her friends as well as I do.”

  “I like Light-Fingered Larry too,” Smith told her with that devil’s grin of his. “I’m rather good friends with a fellow called the Butcher. Not everyone I know has a father in the house of Lords.”

  “Is the Butcher fellow one of those gents who collects kittens and gives them homes?” Vi asked, entirely undisturbed. “It’s the kind of nickname that means the opposite, isn’t it?”

  “I believe he may be fictional,” Beatrice told Violet. “I’m not convinced that this Butcher exists.”

  “No respect,” Smith muttered. “I spent a lifetime crafting an image and a reputation and one bonny lass with a scone destroys it.”

 
; Before Violet could reply, there was a horrific scream. Vi jumped to her feet but Smith snapped, “Stay here.”

  Beatrice placed a hand on Vi’s arm, and when Vi glanced back she saw that Beatrice was just behind her, on her feet as well. People were scattering while others gathered closer. Vi saw Jack running across the archery field, and she gasped. If anyone shot him, she’d murder them herself. She and Beatrice linked hands and chased after Smith, who unapologetically shoved people out of his way. In the alleys between a series of tents, Vi saw Mrs. Forman.

  Vi’s jaw dropped. Mrs. Forman had worn a very pretty pale dress with small flowers scattered over it. Now, however, it was smeared with blood. Her gaze was wide and horrified, and Vi saw that at her feet was the body of the elder Benedict Brantley.

  “What have you done?” Mitchell Brantley demanded. “What have you done to my father?”

  “I—no…I was trying to help him! I…where’s the doctor? He was breathing. He was breathing a moment ago.”

  Violet gasped as the local police came. One dropped to his knees next to the body while the other took hold of Mrs. Forman’s arm.

  The policeman on his knees shook his head and said, “Well, he’s not alive now.”

  Mrs. Forman gasped while the Brantley man hissed, “It was you. I know you hated him.”

  She was shaking her head helplessly as Jack snapped, “Quiet, you. The rest of you back up. Everyone to the race course.”

  No one dared to disobey him other than the Brantley sons and the mayor.

  “How did this happen?” The mayor clutched his head. “This is going to ruin everything!”

  Violet ignored him, her hand still clutching Beatrice’s. To Smith, Vi whispered, “Do you know her motive?”

  “Brantley was trying to blackmail her into coming back to him.”

  Vi frowned while Beatrice muttered, “Oh he deserved to die.”

  Rita and Ham had arrived with her father. He took one look at the man who was holding Mrs. Forman’s arm and demanded, “Let go of her.”

  “I can’t do that, sir,” the fellow said.

  “Bloody hell,” Ham muttered.

  He and Jack met each other’s gazes and Smith snorted, “They can’t take over like they usually do.”

  Beatrice smacked Smith’s arm. “Be nice.”

  “It’s just the truth,” Smith shot back. “That woman is under real threat. She has a motive, she found the body—” He made a considering face. “Or she did kill him. But if she didn’t, they can’t help her like they usually do.”

  “Then,” Beatrice hissed, “we’ll help her like you usually do.”

  Smith wasn’t the type to protect an unfamiliar woman all that much. He eyed Beatrice. “Do you have the knife I gave you?”

  “No one is going to stab me,” she told him.

  “That’s what Brantley thought,” Smith said insidiously. “Now look at him. He’s going to feed worms in a few short days.”

  Beatrice gasped, but Smith didn’t seem to mind.

  “He’s so blunt with the truth,” Beatrice muttered.

  “Lies, even gentle ones, aren’t for adults.” Smith’s head tilted. “Where’s the weapon?”

  “Maybe they took it,” Beatrice said.

  “A bloody weapon? Idiotic.”

  Beatrice refrained from commenting, but Vi agreed with Smith. She tried to view the ground from her vantage point, but if a weapon was there, it wasn’t to be seen. She stepped forward but the policeman stopped her. “You’ll need to leave, my lady.”

  Vi considered arguing, but she decided to make friends. “This is going to be a long day. Come to the house if you need anything. We’ll be there to help in whatever ways we can.”

  Vi stepped back and her gaze met Smith’s. He grinned wickedly at her, and she winked before she stepped away. There was nothing to be found at the murder scene. But there was much to be discussed inside.

  As they walked away from the scene, Violet said to Beatrice, “I feel like Ham and Jack have bound our investigation. Time to find a new way.”

  “The better way,” Smith replied. “There’s nothing to be done while people are on edge. We’ll have to wait until they take in that woman as the killer, everyone else will relax, and then we’ll strike from the shadows.”

  Vi shook her head at Smith. “You are disturbing.”

  He grinned. That wicked face on a man who looks like an angel was never not disturbing. She ran up the steps and found that Hargreaves was carrying a chaise lounge out to the garden with the help of a local fellow Vi didn’t know.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “A woman fainted,” he said. “I’d have carried her inside, but…it would be difficult.”

  Violet trusted Hargreaves implicitly, so she nodded and hurried up the steps to her house. When she walked into the house, she found Lila and Denny maneuvering a chalkboard into the library.

  Denny grinned cheerily at Vi. “I stole the good scones. The winners. Victor has already started making cocktails, and Kate has gone to the kitchens to make tea and coffee. All of your servants are at the fête.”

  Smith crossed to take the end of the chalkboard and helped Denny get it into the library. Violet and Beatrice eyed them and then glanced at each other.

  “Here we are again,” Beatrice said low. “Am I terrible person because I’m not as bothered as I used to be by a body? I am more bothered by how they took hold of Mrs. Forman as though it must have been her. Why is it always the fool who comes across the body? One would be wiser to notice a body and refuse to help.”

  Violet shuddered. She hadn’t wanted to think about the body. It seemed that every time she saw a set of staring eyes, her mind decided to replay all of them. Violet closed her eyes, breathed deeply in and let her breath out slowly.

  “I’m sorry, Vi,” Beatrice whispered low. “I shouldn’t have—”

  Violet shook her head. “It’s all right.”

  With a quick breath in and a swallow, Vi said, “I’m sure I have chocolate in my room.”

  Vi darted up the stairs and rushed into her bedroom. She curled into a ball on her bed and counted to herself until she stopped feeling every heartbeat. When the pounding had stopped, she grabbed her journal and read the note she’d made at the beginning.

  Find the good.

  Be a helper.

  Be grateful.

  Violet bit down on her bottom lip and then tossed aside the green silk jacket and replaced her pretty shoes with a more comfortable pair. She left her jewelry on the vanity table. With a careful attempt to gather the thoughts of the body, Violet shoved those memories into the box where she kept the visions of all the horrible things she’d seen and experienced.

  There was more to do than fall apart. Rita’s father had two wives murdered. Vi would be damned if Lavinia Forman would take the fall for a crime she didn’t commit.

  There was a flash of uncertainty about Mrs. Forman. Violet didn’t know the woman well enough to be assured of either her innocence or her guilt, but they would do what they could.

  Violet took another breath in and then let it out slowly. She might be sleepless that night, but she would do all she could to avoid the grey days and find the good.

  Chapter 11

  Violet reached the library just as Kate wheeled a teacart to the doors. Vi hurried forward, opened the door, and then hugged her sister-in-law.

  “Are you all right?” Kate whispered.

  “I’m finding the good,” Violet admitted. She didn’t need to explain. Victor knew everything about Vi, and he shared with his wife.

  “Then count the fact that everyone here knew you would want to help, and they want to help you.”

  Violet smiled a watery smile and said, “I love you.”

  “And I you,” Kate said. “I’ve got coffee. I took the biscuits. I even made cucumber sandwiches. Vi,” Kate laughed low, “being with you and Victor has spoiled me. I haven’t made them since I was last at my mother’s.”

 
; Violet laughed and found that joy reached into her heart. She walked into the library and as she did, her brother pressed a kiss to her forehead. Violet glanced around, taking note of who was there. Jack, Ham, and Smith had disappeared. Victor and Kate, Lila and Denny, Rita, Beatrice, Ginny, and Izzy Forman were all present.

  “Where is your father?” Vi asked Rita.

  “He won’t leave her,” Rita replied. “I wanted to go, but he begged me to beg all of you to help her.”

  Violet nodded, unsurprised. She faced the chalkboards and was surprised no one had started writing while she was gathering herself. Had they waited for her, or was she able to calm down more quickly than she’d expected? Violet’s gaze moved to Izzy Forman and Ginny.

  “She wants to help,” Ginny said.

  “We don't know your mother well,” Vi told Izzy.

  “All right,” she said. Her face was swollen from tears, her eyes were red, and her hands were shaking.

  “That means,” Violet told Izzy gently, “we will discuss the possibility that she might have killed that man regardless of your feelings.”

  “She didn’t,” Izzy swore.

  Ginny patted Izzy on the back. “They have to consider it, Iz.”

  Izzy’s mouth snapped shut, her face screwed up in fury, and Violet winced in advance at the coming tirade. If the girl was passionate over the beauty of a garden, what would she be like driven to fury to protect her mother. To Vi’s utter shock, however, Izzy crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t say a word.

  “You’ll be asked to leave if you interrupt,” Violet warned the girl, and even though Vi’s tone was gentle, it was firm.

  Izzy nodded with her mouth clamped shut. Her face was screwed up with a multitude of emotions, but not a peep escaped the girl.

  Violet crossed to the chalkboard where her brother stood with a cup of coffee in his hand. She took it with a grateful smile and then said, “Well, let’s do this, shall we?”

  Violet took a long drink of the coffee, set the cup down, and wrote on the board.

  LAVINIA FORMAN —