Chapter Twenty Three

 

Friday was a blur of customers and plants, people preparing for the long Memorial Day weekend. Not that I minded. Brisk business is good.

I’d asked Grandpa to come back on Saturday, but for today we managed without him. Miguel was here today and I thought two days in a row would be too hard on Grandpa. After all, he was supposed to be retired and enjoying life.

Although I wanted badly for the garden center sales to increase under my management, I was happy to see six o’clock roll around. At least staying busy kept my mind off my disagreement with Kurt. I must have looked ragged when Miguel came into the gift shop.

He motioned me away. “Go ahead. I’ll check out the registers and put the deposit in your office safe.”

I was reminded why we all loved and depended on Miguel. I’d mentioned the dinner tonight to him, so now I only said, “Thanks. I’ll let you know if I find out anything interesting tonight.”

I hurried upstairs and let Rascal run through the nursery trees while I showered. We’d closed the gates, so he couldn’t stray off the garden center property. I didn’t think he would run out and get into trouble even if the gates were open but, much as I love him, he’s still a dog. He couldn’t be faulted for acting like one, so I tried to be careful in his freedom.

I toweled off and wondered what Kurt’s plans were for the evening. Why had he been so insistent that I not go to the Rockwell estate tonight? Had he planned an arrest of someone in the Rockwell or Douglas family? I didn’t see how he could have.

I hung my towel up and dried my hair. My hair is thick and long and I had plenty of time to wish Kurt and I hadn’t had sharp words. But I was determined to learn all I could about the family’s reaction to the will.

If I solved the murder, wouldn’t he be surprised? And grateful—or would he resent my nosing out the culprit before he could? Nuts, I had to quit thinking about him and move fast or I’d be late for dinner.

I chose a slender seafoam green dress that was held up mostly by imagination and tiny straps. On a rare whim, I’d bought matching sling-back shoes with stiletto heels. I added a pearl drop necklace and pearl studs. Finally, I felt equal to meeting Kay Douglas. Wondering why I bothered to consider my reception by the person I liked least, I fed the cats then called Rascal.

“No jumping on me, boy. How about some dinner instead?”

I left him happily snarfing his kibble while the cats looked on imperiously. I bounded out the door and—whoa, oh, oh—grabbed for the rail. These heels were higher than I’d ever worn, and I almost took a tumble down the staircase. Before I started the car, I slipped my right shoe off so I wouldn’t scuff the heel while driving.

I had to admit I was nervous about tonight. Knowing I was being overly dramatic, I couldn’t help figuring I’d be dining with a killer.

***

Instead of the snippy maid, Devlin answered the door when I rang the bell. Dressed in dark gray slacks and a light blue shirt open at the throat, he offered one of those wide smiles that lighted his face.

“Wow, nice to see you. And I mean that. What a dress. You look gorgeous.”

“No woman minds hearing those words. Thank you. How’s Sam?”

He held my hand and laid it on his arm. “Much better. He’s talking a little off and on, he’s disoriented and sometimes hallucinates. We still don’t know who drugged him, but he’s alert enough to make it clear he’s not to blame.”

“Have the lab tests come back from Dallas?”

“The doctor was supposed to hear this afternoon, but he hasn’t let us know anything. With the holiday weekend, we’re hoping he won’t keep us waiting until Tuesday.”

I wanted to ask him more, but by this time we were in the dining room and we were no longer alone.

Kay came up, smiling as if we were old friends. “Heather, how nice to see you here. Did Chelsea tell you I paid a visit to your garden center the other day?” Tonight Kay wore tangerine silk slacks with a burnt orange silk blouse that reached almost to her knees and flowed with her every movement. Her sandals were decorated in beads the color of her slacks.

“Yes, Chelsea mentioned you’d come in.” Did she ever.

Kay patted my arm. “Lovely place, very organized and everything looking top notch. No wonder you’re doing so well with it. Bootsy’s ecstatic about her garden.”

I stammered out, “Thank you. We have a loyal clientele.”

“Well, I’ll let my nephew and you talk while I ask Lionel about something.” She drifted away.

I was left gaping. Could this be the same woman I’d met before? The same one who’d terrorized Chelsea?

“I’d better tell Mavis to start serving,” Devlin apologized, then left my side to speak to the maid.

Chelsea hurried over. She was dressed in one of her usual costumes, but modestly displaying no piercings other than those in her ears. Her red, scooped-neck top with flaring filmy elbow-length sleeves topped her black spandex mini-skirt. A bell dangling from her ankle chain drew attention to her red spike heels.

“Don’t you look terrific?” She grabbed my hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. Sam’s talking now, and he was glad to see me. I almost couldn’t leave him, but he asked me to represent him tonight.”

“Is he out of ICU?”

“Yes, they moved him this morning. Room 338, but he still can’t stay awake long. And he has horrible dreams.” She whispered, “Wait until I tell you what I found out.”

“What?”

She turned so her back was to the others. “Devlin, Sam, Bootsy, and Kay each get twenty percent of the company. Wyatt gets ten percent. The Ormonds get the other ten percent.”

“Really?” I asked. “That is surprising. No bequests to charities, etc.”

“Yes, but cash. And to key employees, servants, the usual.”

So, no one was left out. Maybe Vance Rockwell was even trying to make amends for killing Frank Ormond. “Rather late for him to feel sorry about all the evil he did the Ormonds.”

Chelsea whispered, “Well, yes, but they’ll be fixed for life now. The company is worth tons. Billions.”

A table that could easily have seated twenty people was set for ten. A crisp white damask tablecloth covered the table, with a gold runner down the center. Low arrangements of gold and white daisies were placed along the runner. The gold rimmed china service had and inner ring of dark green with a center gold medallion that reminded me of the one in the entryway. Gold flatware was carefully arranged beside each plate and a dark green napkin was artfully folded on the left at each place.

The snippy maid apparently had hors d’oeuvre duty and offered me a canapé. I took a slice of noiri rolled rice and Devlin handed me a flute of champagne.

Clustered at one side, looking very uncomfortable, were Millie Ormond and her sons. She wore a navy dress, simple but flattering. Bubba and Buck looked almost presentable in khaki slacks and short-sleeved knit shirts. Sharee stood beside her mother. Although her body language appeared defensive, maybe she just needed a cigarette. She looked gorgeous in a lavender dress with handkerchief hem. Her hair was styled in an elaborate upsweep that would have looked like big hair on most women, but was elegant on her.

Bootsy cleared her throat. “Now that we’re all here except our dear Sam, I want to propose a toast to his good health.”

We all toasted Sam. I looked around to judge if anyone looked askance. No one did, except the snippy maid. You’d think an inheritance would have sweetened her face.

I expected Bootsy to sit at the head of the table, but Devlin took that place. He seated me on his right with Sharee, Millie, Buck and Bubba following. Bootsy sat on Devlin’s left, with Chelsea, Lionel Wyatt, and Kay. Thank goodness, neither Chelsea nor I had to sit beside witchy Kay, but I wondered at him seating his Aunt Kay at the end of the guests.

Both Kay and Lionel Wyatt, who was dressed in a gray business suit and red tie, now appeared preoccupied. I guess with Sam so ill, things like seating placement weren’t important to the family. Besides, why should I care? I had my chair.

Bootsy said, “Too bad Sam has to miss this. It’s been a long time since he’s had dinner with his cousins.”

Chelsea patted her hand. “He’ll be home soon, you’ll see.”

“We’ll have another celebration then.” Devlin smiled at his mother.

From beside me, Sharee asked, “What kind of pills were given to Sam?”

“Almost half a bottle of my Secomazidonol. It’s a wonder so many at once didn’t kill Sam.”

Sharee watched me de-shell my escargot then mimicked my actions on one from her plate. “Is that why it’s taking so long for Sam to recover?”

I imagined Devlin was sick to death of repeating the same information, but his voice was friendly. “No, the doctors still don’t know what else he was given.”

Chelsea said, “They’ll know soon.”

Sharee asked, “Any chance of brain damage?”

“We don’t think so.” Devlin frowned at Sharee.

“Let’s talk about something pleasant.” Bootsy gazed at each of us before she asked, “Sharee, what do you think of your inheritance?”

“I’m shocked, of course. I mean, I figured there was something and that’s why my family and me were invited. I hardly expected we’d get shares in the company.”

Each of her brothers made a rude noise that sounded like a snort. I wasn’t sure if they were expressing their opinion, or if they were eating too fast. Millie pushed the food around on her plate but said nothing.

Chelsea looked at Bubba and Buck and I could see her amusement. Lionel and Kay stared at the brothers with disdain.

As if oblivious to anyone’s regard, Buck asked, “Reckon I could get another piece of that beef?”

Devlin stood, “Of course. I’ll just alert the cook. Would anyone else like seconds?”

Bubba said, “I believe I could eat another helping myself. And maybe some potatoes too.”

While the snippy maid brought out more roast and au gratin potatoes, a pleasant-faced woman carried in ramkins of crème brulee.

After dinner, Bootsy said, “Let’s all go out on the terrace. I want to show off the garden Heather designed for me.”

While Devlin helped his mother, Chelsea hurried around the table to talk to Sharee and me. Together, we walked through the wide French doors onto the terrace.

Chelsea asked, “Did you know Mr. Rockwell had planned to sell the company?”

“Grandpa found out, but not the details.”

“Doesn’t matter. He died before he could sign anything. It’s all the family’s now.” Sharee nudged me, “Counting me as family.”

I smiled at her. “That’s wonderful, Sharee. Will you move to Dallas now?”

“Damn right, and the sooner the better. Devlin offered me a plum job in the company. Mom wants to stay here and so do the boys, but I may be able to talk her into staying with me some of the time. Guess that leaves Walter looking for a new manager.”

I stared at her. “Manager? For what?”

“You didn’t know?” She laughed. “He owns the convenience store. Bought it so I'd have a secure job. Not that it makes much money, but it’s a steady income for me and for Walter. He socks his share away.”

“I didn’t know he owned anything but the lot where his house burned.”

“I got a little wild when I was a teenager. Hell, I’m still a little wild. Walter and I are close friends.” She rolled her eyes. “You know he comes to me for sex, but mostly, he comes for companionship.”

I did not want to know about Walter’s sex life. Or Sharee’s. “That’s almost TMI, too much information.”

She laughed again and touched my arm. “I’m only telling you this because I worry about him. He’s a good man, and your family and I are the main people in his life. But I’m over the top with excitement about my inheritance. Can’t wait to shake this town and move to Dallas.”

Seemed prying was my life now, so I asked, “I guess everyone else’s settlement was pretty much what was expected?”

Sharee gave a feminine version of her brothers’ snort. “Barely. But if the sale had gone through, turns out Devlin, Kay, and Lionel would have been out of luck. Uncle Vance was shutting them out and taking it all for himself. Bootsy and Sam would have inherited from him then, of course.”

So Kurt was right and Devlin had a big motive for killing his stepfather. The news hit me hard, but I managed to respond. “That would have been rough. I mean, I neither know nor care about Mr. Wyatt’s part in the company’s success. But Kay has worked for the business since it started, and Devlin is his stepson and the son of his former partner.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to Bootsy and Sam, either, to pit them against the others.” Chelsea said.

“I’d give a lot for a cigarette.” Sharee looked around. “Anyway, Uncle Vance had it figured so the others got nada. And much as I dislike her, Kay’s inheritance was part of what started the company. She deserved better for putting up with Uncle Vance’s lies for thirty-something years.”

I asked, “How could he do that? Surely Bootsy wouldn’t have let him cut out Devlin?”

Sharee nodded. “You’d think, but you can bet she didn’t know about it. Turns out even Lionel didn’t know. Uncle Vance had another attorney draw up the sale. If he’d lived another day or two, it would have been a done deal.”