Chapter 16 #2
“Willingly?” Tegan asked.
He chuckled. “Nah. I had to do it in order to pass freshman English. Say, Tegan”—he slipped one hand into a jeans pocket— “I heard you’re a hiker.”
“Who told you?”
“An old friend of mine touched base. He said he saw you at Linville Caverns.”
Uh-oh. We’d been caught in the act. Why had Zorro reached out? He said he hadn’t seen Patrick in years.
Hold on, Allie. That’s not what he said. I replayed the conversation in my mind. He’d stated that Patrick’s stepfather had forbidden Patrick to see him ever again, but he hadn’t said they’d complied.
“We did go there, Patrick,” I said. “After you shared your adventure, I had the urge to see the caverns. I hadn’t visited in years.”
“Allie told me about the bats. I was fascinated,” Tegan replied, crafting a reasonable excuse. “We were hoping to figure out what time the furry critters were at their peak.”
“The caverns aren’t open on Wednesdays,” Patrick said.
I groaned. “Yeah, we found out. Dumb. But it was a pretty drive.”
“Zorro said you asked about me.” Patrick’s gaze narrowed.
“We did.” I opted to take the direct approach. “We hoped one of the hikers we questioned would know how you got in. We wanted to sneak in ourselves. Alas, none did.”
Darcy meowed.
“Yes, buddy.” I cooed. “I’ll let you out in a sec.”
Tegan raised the two glasses of wine. “Allie, our drinks are getting warm. See you, Patrick. Nice job on the office.”
As I was unpacking Darcy from his carrier—he’d visited the inn before and knew to stay put in the garden room—Noeline sauntered in.
“I meant to tell you, ladies, I’ve received yeses from all the invitees for the Gatsby event.”
“I figured,” Tegan said. “We sold out of the second batch of books.”
“Also I scored the most romantic flapper dress ever,” Noeline continued. “Lillian discovered it among the theater costumes. Cobalt blue with lots of sequins and bling.” She used her hands to describe it. “How are your plans coming along?”
“I did some taste testing.” I listed what I’d made so far. “I have more to do tonight, meaning I’m not staying after dinner.”
Tegan tapped my arm. “Give me a ride home when you leave? I need to tend to the snails in the garden.”
“Snails?” her mother exclaimed.
“Yes, the garden needs tweaking.” When Marigold died, Tegan had inherited half of her house.
She’d purchased the other half from Vanna.
After starting the divorce proceedings, she had moved into the house and now was spending as much time as she could sprucing up the garden and the interior.
Marigold had kept her home in pristine shape, but Tegan was updating the bathrooms and the counters in the kitchen. “Who knew I was such a DIY person?”
“Are you overextending yourself?” Noeline asked, concerned.
“Moi? No! You, on the other hand—”
“No. Uh-uh.” Noeline wagged her head. “You are not going to talk me out of buying another bed-and-breakfast. Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me I need more joy in my life? Well, a new project will bring me great delight. End of discussion.” She marched away.
“Sheesh.” Tegan exhaled. “She can be so stubborn.”
I bit back a smile. I felt the same about Fern. And hadn’t Finette said all the women in her family were intractable?
We retreated to the garden and sat on a bench beneath a blossoming white crape myrtle to enjoy our wine. The aroma from a stand of roses to the left was heady.
After a long moment, Tegan said, “Patrick …” but didn’t continue.
“What about him?”
“He clearly didn’t swallow that we’d asked his friend about the bats or the secret entrance to the cave. Do you think we should be worried?”
“Why?”
“If he’s the killer and he thinks we’re nosing around … I mean, he went to jail for assault, and …” She sipped her wine. “Will he go after us?”
“Relax. He doesn’t know we discovered all that.”
“But he might have guessed we didn’t find evidence of him being at the caverns, meaning we know he lied.”
“Yoo-hoo.” Vanna swanned outside, her heels digging into the grass, making it impossible for her to make a smooth entrance. She was carrying a glass of wine, which was sloshing over the rim. When she reached us, she sipped her wine and shook off her wet hand. “I had such a fruitful day.”
“What did you do?” Tegan asked.
“I met with the mayor to talk about another private party, because the one I threw was such a success.”
“Congratulations,” I said.
“Afterward, I met with the alderman on the town council, who also wants me to hostess a party. It sure pays to know people in high places.”
Tegan and I exchanged a look. Vanna couldn’t help herself. She liked to crow about her accomplishments.
Vanna eyed me. “That doesn’t mean I can’t help you do all the things you need me to do for the Gatsby event, Allie.
The mayor’s party isn’t for another month, and the alderman’s is in two months.
” She inspected the heel of her left shoe.
“Ooh, mud. Why does Mother water so much?” She slipped off the shoe and, balancing with her barefoot toes on the wet ground, wiped off the mess using a tissue from her purse.
“Hopeless.” She inserted her foot into the shoe and balled up the tissue.
“Following those meetings, I delivered an early dinner to Katherine Fineworthy, Finette’s great-aunt. ”
“You did?” I asked.
“Yes. I go every Wednesday. Finette hired me to do so.”
Aha. That made sense. Vanna had been paid. She wasn’t entirely altruistic.
“She likes macaroni and cheese. I made it extra special with a three-cheese blend.”
I grinned. “I make it the same way.”
“Aunt Marigold and Katherine were such good friends,” Vanna went on. “She is … was an avid reader. She lives in the darling blue house with the yellow shutters on the corner of Oak Knoll, not far from Auntie’s … I mean your house, Tegan.”
“I know the one.”
“Finette mentioned her great-aunt was ailing.” Actually, she’d intimated that her great-aunt was slipping mentally. I took a sip of my wine. “She’s deliberating about applying for a conservatorship.”
“Yes.” Vanna bobbed her head. “She wants to coerce her great-aunt into moving into a retirement facility. To be truthful, sometimes the poor dear can’t even walk to her mailbox without forgetting why she went outside.
I bring it to her whenever I visit and sort through it with her. She gets quite a lot of junk.”
“Don’t we all?” I joked.
“She enjoys flipping through advertising mailers,” Vanna said.
“As if she’ll ever buy another item in her life.
Now is the time to sell what she’s got, Finette tells her.
I don’t think Katherine agrees. Finette doesn’t press.
She doesn’t want to upset her.” She leaned forward.
“Speaking of upsetting someone you love, did you tick off our mother, Tegan?”
“What do you mean?”
“She was muttering, ‘Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn,’ to herself when I arrived. I asked if she meant me, and she said no. You were the bullheaded one.”
“Me! Ha! She’s the—”
“Dinner!” Helga called from the back porch.
Tegan, Vanna, and I rose and convened at a table in the dining room with Noeline. Inn guests occupied the other tables.
To my surprise, Helga served something akin to a Waldorf salad to start.
She’d used pistachios instead of walnuts, and chunks of green apples instead of red.
The dressing was slightly different, too.
Although she had used mayonnaise and lemon juice, which was typical, she’d added maple syrup rather than honey.
“Wow,” I mumbled around a mouthful. “Helga, this is so tasty.”
“Thank you.” She was filling glasses with tap water. “Vanna gave me the recipe.”
Vanna beamed with pride, leaving me to wonder what other secret delights she might be harboring. I supposed I should rope her in to help with the rest of the Gatsby party taste testing.
“Mother”—Tegan sliced a flaky biscuit in half and buttered each side—“I really do want to discuss your plans.”
Give it a rest, I tried to telegraph mentally, but my ESP suggestions never worked on my headstrong pal.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Noeline said.
“But—”
“No.”
Helga bussed the salad plates, replaced them with dinner plates, and returned with platters of entrée choices.
I whispered to Tegan, “I’ve got to leave soon.”
“I’ll ask Helga to make us dessert to-go plates. You can’t pass up her apple crumb cake.” She polished off her biscuit, brushed off her hands, and leaned forward on both elbows, hands folded. “Mother, how much is the new place going for?”
“Tegan, drop it,” Vanna ordered. “Honestly, you’re like a dog with a bone. Now is not the time.”
“When is the time?”
“Mother has plenty of money.”
“I don’t want her to be taken to the cleaners. Do you remember how she put her heart and soul into opening this place?” Tegan stabbed the table to make her point. “Do you remember how tired she was all the time?”
“Girls, I’m right here,” Noeline said. “I can hear you. Relax. I’ve got it under control.”
“You say that now.” Tegan thwacked the table with her fingertips. “But how about a year from now, when the roof caves in or the staircase gives way? Have you forgotten all the things you had to repair or replace here? Do you have long-term memory loss?”
Vanna gasped. I held my breath.
“Enough, young lady,” Noeline said. She pushed back her chair.
The feet screeched on the floor. She rose to a stand and dropped her napkin on her plate.
“Do not diss me. For your information, no, I haven’t forgotten a thing.
I relished every step of the process of making this place beautiful.
Even the snags and pitfalls. I look forward to bringing another dinosaur to life. Now, leave me be.” She stomped away.
“You heard her, Tegan,” Vanna said under her breath. “Leave her be.” I doubted Vanna disagreed with Tegan, but I figured she was defending their mother because she knew it would irk her half sister.
Which it did. Tegan gave her sister the evil eye and marched out of the room.