Chapter 15

The first part of my plan involved visiting a florist in the next town. The man who served me had big ears, and a bald head that shone under the flickering lights of the ceiling. He gave me the third degree about what I wanted the flowers for, followed by lengthy advice.

I bought a nice bouquet of Asiatic lilies, snow drops, and gerbera daisies, all in soft pastel pinks. The man wrapped the bunch in pale green tissue paper, and I made my escape.

As my google search had revealed, Donna Kerr lived just north of that town, right on the outskirts. I pulled up in front of a brick, two-story house, surrounded by expansive gardens. I parked next to one of the two cars in the drive, and made my way to the house, the flowers held in the crook of my arm.

I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I tried a few more times—still nothing. As there were two cars parked in front of the house, and all the upstairs windows were open, I figured that someone was home.

I walked around the side of the home, waving the flowers above my head to ward off the magpie that had just dive-bombed me. It took off with a loud caw. My eyes fell on a large fountain in the center of the garden. The headpiece was a large cherub, with a jet of water spraying from the top of its small harp.

I was so focused on the fountain and the sweetly pungent scent of honeysuckle that I didn’t notice anyone present.

“Can I help you?” a voice said from the side.

I whirled around to see a short, red-faced woman. She was buttoning up her blue shirt. A man stood next to her, tightening his belt.

“Mrs. Kerr?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m Donna Kerr,” the woman said. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Laurel Bay,” I replied. “Your husband, Preston, was at my funeral parlor the day he was…” My voice trailed away.

“Murdered,” the man said. “Preston was my brother.”

“Cameron was trying to console me,” Donna said quickly. “I’ve been in a terrible state since Preston was killed at your establishment.”

It sounded as if she was trying to push the blame on me. I was sure she was simply trying to distract me with the murder, so I would not focus on the fact that I had walked in on something taking place between her and her dead husband’s brother. Their clothes were wrinkled and dirty, and there was a clump of grass stuck to the side of her head.

I held out the flowers. “Yes, that’s why I stopped by,” I said. “I wanted to bring you these. I know you had his funeral somewhere else, but I wanted to bring you these, and tell you I was sorry for your loss.”

Donna stepped forward and took the flowers. “They’re lovely. Thank you very much.” She sniffed them.

“Well, I was just leaving,” Cameron said, after having finally tightened his belt properly. He did not notice that a tall rose stem was sticking out of his hair, pointing toward the sky.

“Right. Thanks for stopping by.” Donna stepped forward as if she was going to kiss him, but caught herself in time and awkwardly patted him on the arm instead. She watched him go and then turned to me. “I was just about to put on some coffee.”

I wondered why she said that. I knew what she had just been about to do, and it had nothing to do with coffee.

“Would you like to come in for a cup?” she continued.

I couldn’t believe my luck. “Yes, that sounds lovely,” I said, and I followed her out of the garden.

The door opened up directly into a large kitchen. Donna set the flowers in a vase on the center of the kitchen island. I sat on a stool on one side of the island, while she busied herself with the coffee.

“I didn’t know Preston had a brother,” I said. I realized that my comment made it sound as if I knew the man. I did, of course, but only by speaking to his ghost, so I added, “I mean, we only spoke briefly.”

“Preston and Cameron were close when they were younger, but they had a falling out when their parents divorced. Each one sided with a different parent, and they could go months without speaking. It was sad to hear stories about them as children, and then see them so far apart. Cameron was upset about it. As was Preston,” she added.

I nodded.

“I certainly don’t blame you for Preston’s death,” she continued. “I saw that article in the Sydney paper, and I felt rather bad about it. I’ve been meaning to call you and tell you, but I haven’t had a chance to get around to it, what with everything.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” I smiled at her. “I thought you must have blamed the funeral home somehow, since you had the funeral somewhere else.”

“Mr. Dunne called me and offered me quite a good rate,” Donna said with a shrug. She handed me a cup of coffee.

I took a sip. It was disgusting. Instant coffee is against my religion. “I understand,” I said. “It would have been hard to be in the place where he’d been killed.”

Donna sipped her coffee and appeared to be lost in thought. Tears swam in her eyes. She reached up to touch her hair, and her fingers touched the clump of grass. “You should have told me!” she said in alarm.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you,” I said lamely. “Things like that often happen to me in the garden.” Well, that couldn’t be further from the truth, but I wondered what was going through Donna’s mind as her eyes widened.

“You know, Preston and I were thinking of divorce,” she said.

“Oh?”

Donna nodded. “We fought about money.”

“About money?” I asked, surprised. “This house is beautiful.”

“It is. Oh believe me, we had money, but it was all gone. Preston was spending it faster than he could make it. I suppose that sounds horrible. I’ve never worked, you see. Preston didn’t want me to, but in the last few years he sank so much money into his little project.”

Donna was looking up at the ceiling, so I took the opportunity to tip my coffee into the dead maidenhair fern sitting next to me in a fancy ceramic pot on the countertop. I wondered if it had been killed by other guests pouring their bad coffee into it. “What was his little project?” I asked.

“An album. At his age! He was recording an album. He hired a producer and bought time in a studio. All that’s so expensive. He was sinking us.”

I thought for a moment. “But now, without him, there’s nothing coming in. You’ll have to work now, won’t you?”

“Perhaps,” she said, sipping from her cup before she leaned forward and smiled. It was a predatory smile. “Between you and me, there’s a pretty big sum of money coming from Preston’s life insurance. It will be enough to set me up for the rest of my life.”

I nodded, and set down the empty cup. “I really should be going,” I said as I stood. “Thanks for the coffee. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Donna hadn’t stopped smiling since she had mentioned the insurance money.

I hurried out to my car and drove down the road for some way before pulling off at a lonely gas station. I sat in my car and thought about what I’d heard. Donna and Cameron were having an affair. Preston Kerr had spent all their money. The insurance money was certainly a motive. In this case, divorce would not have been easier. Donna wouldn’t have been able to get anything from Preston in a settlement, because there was nothing to get.

I pulled back onto the road and headed for home. I had a new favorite suspect. My only reservation was that the police would have this information, but had not acted on it.