Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) (7 page)

BOOK: Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery)
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Hudson came in and headed for the open window.
It was the first time I had seen him all night. He latched the window and
closed the heavy drapes.

“Hello, Hudson,” I said from the depths of the
couch.

He turned stiffly, like his neck was bothering
him. “Miss Marlowe, I didn't see you. Did you enjoy the wake?”

“I have to say, it was the best I've ever
attended. Albert's family and friends
are
a lively
bunch.”

He smiled, stopping before me. “Mind if I join
you? I need to catch my breath.”

I patted the seat, and he sat down with a deep
sigh.

“You did a splendid job of orchestrating the affair.”

“Thank you, Miss Marlowe. Might I use you for a
reference when the time comes?” He smiled with the twinkle in his eye.

“You're joking, of course. You won't have any
trouble finding employment. Hasn't Opal invited you to take over at her ranch?”

His face clouded over. “No. I'm afraid I'm not
cut out for the American West. I feel rather more comfortable in civilized
society, and, of course, she hasn't asked.”

Hudson's proper English facade did not invite
questions. However, my impertinence couldn't resist asking, “What will you do?”

A few moments passed before he ventured a
reply. The soft light from the end table lamps nestled between us. The room smelled
of leather and books. It was peaceful sitting with Hudson. I was developing a
fondness for the old boy.

At last, he said, “I'm thinking of retiring.
I'm getting on in years, you know, and butlering isn't what it used to be. I'm
afraid I'm terribly old fashioned. Modern young people don't have the respect
for the profession that the older generation had.”

“Retirement sounds like a great idea. Would you
stay in the area?”

“I’ll return to England. I own a small cottage
in Cornwall that was in my family. It will make a perfect place to spend my old
age. I do rather
miss
England, you see.”

“It sounds lovely. I've been to Cornwall. The
sea views are breathtaking.”

“Yes.” His chin slumped to his chest, and he
sat staring at the Persian carpet, maybe lost in the sea view from his cottage.
His eyes closed, and we sat in silence. The last few days had caught up to him,
and I had no intention of disturbing his repose.

I gazed about the room thinking what a shame to
redo this conservative old library. That was a heretical statement coming from
someone who always jumped at the chance to spruce things up. Bookshelves
covered three walls. A gas log fire turned down low made a pleasant contrast to
shadows hugging the far sides of the room.

Hudson’s eyes fluttered open, and he sat up.
“Goodness, I'm sorry to have imposed on you, Miss Marlowe.” He rose. “Now I
must see to my duties and look in on the hired staff to make sure everything
gets put up properly and laid out for breakfast. You'll excuse me?”

I nodded and smiled. “I enjoyed our interlude, Hudson,
and I certainly wish you well. If you need that reference, I'll be glad to
oblige.”

He nodded and walked stiffly out.

I finished my coffee. Turning off the end table
lamps, I stretched out on the couch, meaning to close my eyes just a few
minutes. I was still there when the sun rose. Someone had draped a hand knitted
afghan over me. I squinted to see the time. Nine A.M. I snuggled back under the
cover, fully intending to go back to sleep since it was one of the things I do
best and enjoy so much. As fortune would have it, I heard footsteps come to a
stop by the couch. I ventured to open one eye.

“Rest well, Fiona?” Jake asked. He placed a
fragrant mug of coffee on the stand beside my head.

I sniffed the air in appreciation.

“Amazingly well.”
I
coughed and put my arm over my eyes as he opened the drapes. “That light is
awfully bright.”

“The day's half over. If you want a ride, you
better get up. Breakfast is laid out in the dining room, if you're feeling a
bit peckish, as the English say.”

I grunted my way into a sitting position. Jake
sat down on the end of the couch and checked me over.

“You don't look half bad when you wake up.”

“Thanks. My dates always say that. How did the
mission turn out? Get any good dope?”

“Matter of fact, I did. I got to speak to some of
Albert's colleagues and family while you were dancing the night away.”

“Sharing any secrets this morning?”

“None.”

“I got to talk to a few folks myself. We have
to exchange notes. Might I add, you don't look bad yourself for staying up all
night. Your suit isn't wrinkled.”

He covered a huge yawn with his fist.
“All in the line of duty.
Opal and I had a long conversation
before she finally called it a night.”

“You already had breakfast?”

“Yeah, around six A.M.
I did a little work on the Internet, chasing down leads. C'mon, get some
breakfast. It's quite a spread. Then I'll take you back to your car.”

I sipped on the coffee, not quite ready to bolt
into the day. I have a diesel engine. It takes me a while to warm up. “Allow me
to finish my coffee. It was sweet of you to bring me a cup. I want to hear who
you talked to.”

“Not here,” he said.

“Geez, Jake, you act like the room is bugged.”

Then it struck me. It was. That's why Jake kept
telling me to shut up. I'm quick. I wondered if Jake was the bugger. The
realization on my face made him smile.
Smug but a smile.

“All right, will you please get off my divan,
so that I might rise?”

He stood and offered me a hand.

Breakfast was laid out on a buffet replete with
silver service and lace tablecloth. I loaded up on eggs Benedict, sausage, bacon,
toast, fresh pineapple, and more coffee. Jake had a round of sausage and
scrambled eggs.

Cody, the nephew, was sitting at the dining
room table, and we joined him.

“Good morning,” he said, chirping like an
annoying canary. “Here sit by me.”

He removed the Washington Post from the seat
next to him.

I plopped into the seat and winced.

“Too much to drink?” he asked.

“It's my feet. I haven't danced that much in
years.”

“One of the cousins was the deejay. She's
great, isn't she?”

“I'll say. Where are you from, Cody?”

“Southeast Oregon. My family has a ranch there.”

“So you're a rancher.”

“Yes, ma'am.
I got a
degree in range management at Oregon State University. I help at Aunt Opal's
ranch.”

“Your aunt is quite a woman.”

“She is, but she needs to retire. I keep
telling her that but she thrives on ranch work.”

“What's on the agenda for today?”

“The lawyer.
The
will's going to be read, but some of the family aren’t going to like what they
hear.”

“Why's that?”

“Uncle Albert left his money to charity.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“Opal told me.”

I turned to Jake who had finished his second
breakfast.

“Did you know this?”

Jake burped creatively behind his napkin and
said, “Yup, I knew that.”

“You didn't tell me.”

“Just found out this morning.”

Cody leaned around me toward Jake. “That’s why
she hired Jake.”

I looked at Jake again. “I thought no one in
the family knew you were hired.”

“Opal told Cody last night.”

Boy, I missed a lot between dancing and
sleeping. These people had been busy. I looked back and forth between the two
of them. Cody had a big, Cheshire cat grin. Jake was eying the pastry plate on
the table, avoiding my gaze.

“I thought we were a team,” I said.

“I'll get into it later,” said Jake.

“I'd really like to get into it now.”

Jake put his arm across the back of my
Chippendale chair. “How about I take you home? We'll discuss it on the way.”

“How about you tell me now,” I said. I was
feeling spiteful.

Cody said, “Opal hired Jake because she wanted
to be sure that no one in the family had taken it upon themselves to do Albert
in. I don't blame her. Uncle Al was a nice guy, but he had his faults.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Opal knows Albert’s
left the money to charity but she hires Jake anyway because someone in the
family could have wanted him dead. She calls Jake the day of the murder to have
him start investigating. She throws a party so Jake could meet all the
players,
and I’m the girlfriend cover except that you
disappear for the rest of the night. The blond might want some of his money,
family members want his money and maybe Hudson wants a cut. Albert’s in
financial difficulty so there’s no money to leave to charities. The family will
be upset because the non-existent money is left to charity.”

Jake and Cody both looked at me with what I thought
was new respect. I felt vindicated.

“Good process of deduction,” said Jake “Now
let’s
go
. I’ve got work to do.”

“What time is the appointment with the lawyer, Cody?”
I asked.

“Two o’clock, I believe.”

“Are you going?”

“Yes, I’m chauffeur and general all around
gofer.”

“Good luck.”

“Well,” I said to Jake on the drive back in his
truck, “I guess that ends that. He left the money to charity except that after
all the debts are paid off there’s no money.”

“Still a lot of motive out
there.
No one knew the contents of the will.”

“I don't think it was family.”

“No? Why do you say that?”

“I
didn't hear any compelling motive from the family last night in my information
gathering, except for Roger who seems to be in a bit of financial trouble. Did
you?”

“What did you hear?”

“Lots of conversation about
what's in the will.
I interrupted one couple humping in the solarium.”

“No kidding?” Jake laughed. “I did, too.
In the library, on the couch where you were sleeping.”

“Dear me Horny bunch.
Who did you interrupt?”

“The flashy blond and I think the nephew you
were dancing with.”

“My, he works fast.” My ego deflated another ten
notches. Look what I had missed. I picked up the thread of inquiry again. “I
think Albert was a spy.”

Jake nodded like he was interested. “Find any
evidence of that?”

“Well, no.”

“I don't think you should consider private
investigation as a career.”

Jake pulled into the parking space beside my
car at the church parking lot.

“Here we are party girl.”

“Hey, wait a minute. We were going to exchange
notes. What did you find out?”

Jake stared out the window, looking none the
worse for wear save for puffy eyes.

“I agree that it wasn't family, and it wasn't
you.”

“Thanks.”

“I don't think it was an accidental overdose of
his blood pressure mediation. I think it was planted.”

“The nephew who humped the blond said Albert
was a philanderer, he liked them young and Viagra probably did him in. What do
you think of that?”

Jake nodded his head. “Albert had a
reputation.”

“For married women evidently.
A husband could have fixed him.”

Jake shook his head. “I doubt it. He was
careful. None of the married women in question, to my knowledge, had spiteful
husbands. The husbands probably had girlfriends on the side. Remember this is
the rich and powerful crowd. No, I don't think it was domestic.”

“What?
Foreign?
He’s a
spy. I just know it.”

Jake shifted in his seat and turned to look at
me, putting his arm over the back of my seat.

“Fiona, I need you to do something for me.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I need you to start work on the library as
soon as you can and in the process, I need you to look for clues, like anything
out of the ordinary. You know, like look through books, through drawers, under
things.”

“Under things?
What do
you mean? Why can't you do it?”

“I have. I made a thorough search of the
library, but I didn't find anything. I know you can be more thorough than I can.”

Flattery goes a long way. But I was more than
miffed that he was not sharing clues with me.

“What are you going to be doing while I’m hard
at work?”

“I’m taking a little trip.”

“To?”

“Africa, leaving this
afternoon.”

“What? You’re leaving right in the middle of
our big investigation?”

He looked around like we could be overhead. He
was definitely a nervous guy. But there wasn’t anyone else in the church
parking lot except a couple of trees struggling to grow in asphalt. The sun was
high overhead, and I was beginning to come down off a party high. I needed a
nap bad, and I know I looked like I had spent the night on a couch. But Jake
had more explaining to do. He wasn’t answering me.

“Jake?” I asked.

“I guess you aren’t buying that.”

“No, and there’s some other stuff I’m not
buying. I don’t think you are a private investigator. I think you’re a family
friend who’s trying to help Opal out and not doing a very good job of it. Do
you know there is an online Professional Private Investigators Directory, and
you are not on the list?”

Jake laid his head back on the headrest and
closed his eyes. “I could fall asleep right here.”

“Jake Manyhorses, if that is your real name,
you come clean.”

“Oh, boy,” he said, scrubbing his face. Then he
turned his head and looked at me with bleary eyes. “You’re pretty good, Fiona,
and I’m really not good at this at all. I’m really not good about lying.”

“You’ve got yourself mixed up in a dysfunctional
family.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

BOOK: Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery)
3.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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