Chapter 9
Dear Sophie,
My husband wants to bring a pizza to the family of a friend who passed. I think that’s tacky. I would be so embarrassed! Help me convince him that’s wrong.
Pizza Nut’s Wife in New Rome, Georgia
Dear Pizza Nut’s Wife,
Bake a nice casserole to bring to them. He may decide to forgo the pizza. If he continues to insist on the pizza, then bring both because it sounds like it’s important to your husband and might help him feel better.
Sophie
I hadn’t even considered an alarm system. I looked around for cameras or a keypad. “Ronin gave me a fistful of keys. If there’s an alarm, I don’t know about it.”
Wolf nodded. “Given the prices, I would imagine there must be one. If not, I think you’d be wise to install one.”
“Thanks. And thanks for the latte.” I moved the sofa again and shoved it back when he left.
The first thing I needed to do was talk to Wanda. Maybe Orson had confided in her, and she knew about someone who had it in for him. The second thing was to have an alarm system installed. And then I would find time to bake something for Wanda.
I was thrilled when the glass replacement guy arrived. While he worked, I phoned Ian Hogarth, one of Orson’s employees. He had sounded insightful when we spoke the day before.
“Ian, hi! It’s Sophie Winston again. I hate to bother you, but I wondered if there’s an alarm system in the store.” I could hear laughter in the background.
“Sophie! Just a second, let me get to a quieter place. There’s a very old system and I’m not at all certain that it works. Orson told us he was planning to install something modern, with cameras, but I don’t think anything was ever installed.”
“Thank you. That’s very helpful. Is there anything else I should know?”
“I’d be happy to show you how to run the cash register. I guess I shouldn’t give you the code for the safe over the phone.”
I smiled. “Probably not.”
“I’ve been wondering what happened to Rosebud.”
“My friend, Nina Reid Norwood, is looking for a home for her.”
“Oh. Okay. She used to come to work with Orson, and I was worried about her. Do you have a date for the funeral yet? I’m at Sandbridge Beach with friends. I know that sounds just awful of me, but it’s not often I get a week off. I plan to come back for the service, though. To pay my respects. Orson was very good to me. I still can’t believe that he’s gone.”
“I’m not aware of a date yet, but I promise I’ll let you know.”
We said good-bye and I called a local security company to come by the store and tell me what it needed in terms of a security system.
The man on the other end of the line said, “I’m glad you called. I read about Mr. Chatsworth’s demise and didn’t know if we should come out on Monday as planned.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You were supposed to come to the store?”
“Yes. Mr. Chatsworth said his store had a very old alarm system that didn’t work. I was under the impression that he was eager to get the new one installed as soon as possible, but then I read about his death and didn’t know what to do. I’ve been calling the store, but no one ever answers.”
“I apologize. The store has been closed, but I would like to keep the appointment if you can still come.”
“That would be great. I’ll be there as scheduled on Monday afternoon.”
I locked up the store. Daisy and I walked to my favorite florist. A bell rang when I opened the door and Bonnie Shergold emerged from the back.
“Hi, Sophie!” She reached into a treat jar on a shelf and offered Daisy a tiny cookie in the shape of a dog bone. “Hi, Daisy. These are blueberry!”
Daisy wagged her tail approvingly and delicately took the cookie from Bonnie’s hand.
“Thanks, Bonnie.”
“What can I do for you today?”
“I’d like to bring Wanda some flowers.”
“That was the saddest thing. I was shocked when I heard about Orson. Did you have anything special in mind?”
“You probably know better than I do what’s suitable for bereavement.”
“No problem. How about some white lilies, coral roses, daisies, salmon ranunculus, purple gladiolus, and some of Wanda’s favorite, lilies of the valley?”
“That sounds great! Thanks.” I watched as she artfully gathered the flowers together. The photo of Bonnie on Orson’s bulletin board couldn’t have been very old. She was slim and pretty, without much makeup or fuss. She wore her chestnut hair pulled back into a ponytail with what appeared to be a real daisy adorning the place where it was bound. “Did you know Orson well?”
“I wouldn’t say that. He dropped by once in a while for a bouquet or to send an arrangement to someone. Mostly, though, I thought he seemed lonely. Sort of wistful, and he just wanted to chat.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Nothing special. I asked him questions about antiques.” She pointed at a demilune console table with gilt legs and a white marble top. She had artfully displayed vases and flowers on it. “He gave me a terrific price on that table. It’s a little bit over the top, I think, but it gives the shop an upscale look.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in antiques.”
“My mother was crazy about antiques. When I was growing up, she would drag me to flea markets on weekends. That’s how she furnished our house. We weren’t wealthy by any means, but my mom could bargain better than anyone I have ever met. It didn’t hurt that she had a charming way about her. Somewhere along the line, I guess I caught the antiques bug, too. Here you go. What do you think?”
“The lilies of the valley make it. Without them, it would be too plain. I’d never have thought it.”
She wrapped them in paper, and I paid her for the flowers.
“Daisy,” she said, “no nipping or tasting the flowers now. Lilies of the valley and the other lilies are poisonous. They are not for eating.”
Daisy listened attentively and received pats for her good behavior in the store.
We left the store and walked home. The whole way, I wondered why Orson had a picture of Bonnie in his secret room.
At home, I placed the flowers in my office and closed the door to keep them out of Mochie’s and Daisy’s reach. Then I headed upstairs to dress a little bit better.
It was another hot summer afternoon, so I stepped into a sleeveless black dress with white trim around the neckline and armholes. I pulled my hair up into a loose twist and pinned it, then slid my feet into black patent sandals.
“I’ll be back soon,” I assured Daisy and Mochie.
They didn’t seem concerned. Daisy had stretched out on the cool kitchen floor and appeared quite content to remain in the air-conditioned house. Mochie curled up in his favorite spot, the bay window in the kitchen where he could watch squirrels and people.
I didn’t bother taking a purse. After all, I was only going to the end of the block. I collected the bouquet, locked the door behind me, and crossed the street.
A couple left Natasha’s house as I walked up the stairs. The door opened before I had a chance to knock. A woman stepped out and forced a sad smile at me.
If it hadn’t been for the somber mood, it would have looked like a party. But the hushed voices conveyed the melancholy atmosphere.
I caught a glimpse of Wanda in the center of a group of people, so I headed for the kitchen to retrieve a vase for the flowers.
Natasha saw me coming and plucked them out of my hands, holding them carefully away from her sleeveless, black, knit sheath. “Thank you for coming. I thought you would be here yesterday. Did you have too much fun playing in your new store?”
There was no mistaking the jealousy in her tone. “I was here yesterday. Natasha, you hate antiques.” I thought about telling the truth—that there was a reason he’d left it to me. But I decided she might blab too much or spread weird rumors. Maybe I would tell her later.
“Did you know that he cut me out of his will?” she asked.
“Why would you have been in his will?” I followed her into the kitchen. With stainless steel counters and cabinets, it looked like a restaurant kitchen, spotless but cold. “I thought you were changing the kitchen.”
“As you well know, money has been tight for me. I can’t afford major revisions at the moment. Besides, stainless steel is all the rage. It just took a little longer for everyone else to appreciate it.”
“I hate it,” said Griselda, who overheard as she entered from a different door. “I’ve tried to dress it up with some country pieces, but Natasha will not have it. No sooner do I put something up than she takes it down.”
“Hi, Griselda.” I gave her a hug. “Natasha, why did you expect to inherit from Orson?”
“He was marrying my mother,” she said in a haughty tone, as if that said it all.
“So you thought he would treat you like a daughter?” I found that unrealistic, but I tried to cut her some slack. Maybe she yearned for a father figure.
“I thought he would leave everything to my mother, which I would inherit from her. But that rotten man double-crossed me by leaving her share in a trust. I won’t inherit one penny of it.”
Griselda groaned. “Natasha, the man your mother loved, the man who made her happy and brought joy into her life, has died. This is not about you.”
I flashed a little smile at Griselda. She was no nonsense and brought us back to where we should be.
Natasha poured a few drops of vodka in the water to keep it fresh. “Sophie is my best friend. I can say anything I want to her.”
Griselda winked at me. “Lucky you. Perhaps you could be a little bit more considerate of your mother’s feelings, Natasha.” She left the room.
“You should be very grateful to only have one mother bossing you around. I still can’t believe that Orson did that to me. I thought he liked me, but that was a slap in the face.”
I hadn’t seen the trust, so I had no idea who would receive anything that remained at the time of Wanda’s demise. Some charity, most likely. Frankly, I couldn’t see a reason in the world for him to include a bequest to Natasha, but she was clearly put out about it, so I simply said, “I’m sorry, Natasha.”
She smiled at me. “I knew you would understand. You’re always there for me, Sophie. Except yesterday. But I still don’t understand why he left his store to you. Were you . . . you know?”
“I don’t know,” I said firmly, to dispel any notion of impropriety. “If you’re suggesting I had some sort of relationship with him, you would be incorrect.”
“There must be some reason.”
“I certainly didn’t expect it.”
“I heard someone broke into your store.”
News traveled fast in Old Town. “You heard right. I can’t imagine what they wanted.”
“People steal all sorts of things, I suppose. Maybe he promised someone something and when he didn’t inherit it, the person went and got it himself.” She looked out the window with her back to me.
Wanda rushed into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair. Her cheeks blazed pink and contrasted with the dark aubergine background of her dress. It was simple, with long sleeves and a round neckline. She wore no jewelry except for an antique engagement ring containing one substantial European cut diamond and two smaller sapphires. “Sophie, honey! You came! How thoughtful of you.”
I reached out and gave her a hug, murmuring, “I’m so very sorry.”
“I know you are, sweetheart. Your parents sent the loveliest flowers.”
Griselda poked her head in. “People are asking for you, Wanda.”
“All I want is a quiet front porch where I can sit by myself with a straight bourbon, none of that fancy modern stuff. Just the good old-fashioned kind. Why don’t you have a front porch, Natasha?”
Before Natasha could respond, Wanda’s eyes opened wide. “I forgot you inherited Orson’s store, Sophie! He must have loved you a lot, darlin’.”
It was the wrong thing to say in front of Natasha. A dark cloud of jealousy crossed her face.
Thankfully, Griselda took note of Wanda’s exhaustion. “Is it okay if I tell everybody that you’re resting and send them home?”
“I wish you would,” Wanda said softly.
“Then that’s what I’ll do.” Griselda disappeared again.
“Natasha,” said Wanda, “would you be a love and go help Griselda? Please tell everyone how very much I appreciate that they came to visit.”
“Certainly, Mother.”
The second Natasha was out of earshot, Wanda bolted out of the chair, her wan countenance gone. “Orson was murdered.”