A Manor of Murder Read online

  After I dropped her off, I fast-dialed Dave Price, the man my twin and I both had feelings for.

  “Hi, Sunny.” His cheerful voice instantly lifted my mood. “What’re you doing?”

  “Hoping you’re at your camp, and I can teach you a thing or two about catching fish.”

  “Then you’re in luck.”

  “You are at the camp?”

  “Yes, come on over. I’ll have a rod and reel ready for you.”

  I headed out of the neighborhood. Like with many other towns down here, I was soon riding beside a slow-moving ribbon of fresh water called a bayou. My aim this time was to Bayou Boogie Woogie, which didn’t take long, especially since there wasn’t much traffic. I hoped I could get rid of concerning thoughts about Mom that kept clouding my mind.

  Dave’s camp sat almost at the farthest end of the slim road with not even a gravel path on the opposite side of the waterway. In my sour mood, I needed respite. I opened my windows. The unique smell of the bayou water and dried seafood peelings washed in, immediately making my tight cheeks relax. Shrimp boats moored with their trawls lifted like giant butterfly wings paused in mid-flight. Their knotted ropes held dried bits of crabs and shrimp with a sprinkling of fish that left an enticing taste on the back of my tongue. A snowy egret dipped and road a long current of air above the water. Small houses and camps spread farther apart until I arrived at Dave’s with my spirit already refreshed.

  The sight of his midnight blue truck sitting in his dirt driveway brought a smile to my face. He wasn’t from around here and owned a nice house in town but had wanted a camp. He hired Eve and me to help him fix up this old one a bit. One of the first things we did was add a wharf. When Eve wasn’t around, I helped him buy the right fishing gear and promised I’d teach him to use it.

  Eve had been through three amicable divorces with men who still treated her like a goddess. My sole marriage had been to a man who made me dread intimacy. I had married him because low self-esteem from being dyslexic made me believe I couldn’t do better. I never thought I would be interested in a man again. But then came Dave. Eve had me pretend to be her to check him out when his company installed the alarm system in her house. She had decided he was the reason God made the universe. He was her soulmate, she had sworn to me, and not being shy around men, had come on strong toward him. Which turned him off, he’d let me know later once he admitted an attraction to me but not her.

  She had been wanting so badly for me to find true love. But she would not be pleased for me to find it with him.

  Dave and I had been on a few dinner dates out of town, and sometimes the three of us ate together, all acting like close friends. Dave and I had been getting closer. He’d urged me to let Eve know about our relationship so we could be more open about it. I promised I would soon. But our older sister was killed beside me when I was a child, which made it urgent that I protect this one. That horrible experience also caused me to blurt or hum Christmas carols when I felt terrified and helpless, a trait I had been struggling to get rid of for years.

  Dave stepped out of his carport that was still filled with boxes, a wide smile across his handsome face. His eyes were like hot chocolate on a chilly day. In jeans and a T-shirt that said Gone Fishing across his wide chest, he held his arms apart, a fishing rod in each hand. “Take your pick.”

  “You know which one.” I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and took the lighter rod.

  “I have our chairs set up.” He waved me toward the yard on the side of the rustic building. When I sped ahead of him toward the back and onto the wharf, he said, “You sounded like you needed some comforting.”

  “This is perfect.” I took the folding chair a couple of feet to the right of his, since I cast right-handed and he casts left.

  He grabbed a small round container from under his chair, lifted its white top, and revealed black dirt. “Have one.”

  I shoved my fingers into the loose muck and felt around. My fingers touched a fat piece of slime. “Got it.” With that, I pulled up a large worm.

  “You had the first choice, so if I catch the most fish, remember I gave you a chance.” We shared a smile and he stuck his long fingers in the loose dirt and withdrew a skinny one.

  Content to be beside him instead of where trouble had greeted me, I gave the white skirt on my hook a little shake and then added my wiggly worm. Dave struggled a little, needing more time to get his bait where it needed to be. I gave my line little jerks. Moments later, he did the same.

  A gentle breeze touched my skin. I peered over the peaceful water and heard a seagull cry. Seeing Dave’s line go out made me check my small resting cork. Like it, I relaxed. “How’s your day been?” I asked.

  “Pretty good. We finished a big job. The boat you helped me buy is getting its final touches. And now I’m here with you.”

  The intensity of his smile and our pleasant situation made me believe it was okay to consider my most troubling one. I watched the swirl beyond my cork. A slap on the water meant a fish—probably a mullet—jumped. Mullet was good to eat but they didn’t usually bite on a hook. I glanced farther out, thinking I might see a gator. None were in sight, but that didn’t mean none were near. What might mimic a floating log could be the snout and eyes of one. It was still exciting to pick one out.

  “My mom wants to get married again.” Just thinking about it made my shoulders drop lower.

  “She does? That’s great.”

  I whirled toward him. “No, it isn’t great. She’s an aging woman, and he’s an elderly man who recently moved into Cypress Manor, and we hardly know a thing about him.”

  “Sunny, just think about it.” The smile crossing his face made me want it wiped away. “They’ll keep each other company.”

  “They can do that right now.”

  “Yes, but then they would share a room. Or a suite. Or possibly he owns a home somewhere that they could move into.”

  I was on my feet. “You’re speaking about my mother. My innocent mother.”

  His smile pulled into a little smirk. “Innocence can mean many things. And just like him, I’m not from here. You don’t know everything about me.”

  “And I won’t.” I threw my rod down on my chair and stepped away from his wharf to the side yard.

  “Something’s pulling your line!”

  “Let it have the whole thing.” I whipped myself into my truck, hoped he lost the pole and reel, and sped away from him and his horrible ideas knowing I needed to find better ones that would help my mom.

  Chapter 2

  Back at home, I had to move around and do something positive at the same time. I scooted to the kitchen, powered on the oven, and whipped out utensils and ingredients. In no time, the enticing scent of the vanilla eased my tight shoulders, and I was watching two light-textured angel food cakes fluff up above the tops of their pans. In the meantime, I got everything ready to set two more of the same in my oven right after those came out. Maybe when Eve helped me bring those four cakes to the manor in the morning, Mom would be her more reasonable, softer self.

  Thinking of her situation made me furious. As did considering Dave, the one man who had attracted me, but now did not. Yes, I cared about him, but I didn’t want him siding with a man who wanted to take advantage of my mother.

  While the cakes cooled upside down on the hot pepper bottles I’d hung them on, I fixed two more and set them to bake. Considering the work we had already done ourselves and what we’d used subcontractors for, I made note of the details left to complete at Edward’s house and then worked on bids for another project. Because of my dyslexia, I always had Eve check over my numbers, which normally came out right, but not every time.

  It was hard to focus, since concerns about Mom kept returning. Eve and I had been fortunate with excellent parents. Our father was a good man who always let his wife and daughters know how much he loved them. He�
��d worked hard to provide for us as a building contractor and had us girls often use tools with him. It had been great to occasionally work side by side with him. But he had been gone—what?—almost six years? Did I want Mom alone the rest of her life?

  Maybe not, but she shouldn’t marry someone we knew so little about. The man she was so interested in was too new in town. My sister and I needed to keep her from harm. We would take care of that in morning, I decided, leaving the paperwork and removing the cooled cakes from their pans. I wrapped the cakes, cleaned the kitchen, and eventually slept, waking to a dream of a slimy worm nearing Dave’s face.

  Dreariness hung like a gray drape over town when Eve and I rode to the manor in the morning with my offering and then carried them to the kitchen. The cakes would be distributed to residents with diabetes during lunch or supper, while sweeter cake with sugary icing would go to those whose health allowed it.

  Some of our mother’s Chat and Nap buddies were in their normal places in their sofa grouping not far past the foyer, but she wasn’t with them. Maybe now the others would talk.

  “Good morning, ladies,” I said, and Eve repeated. Most of them greeted us. I stooped a little to get more at eye level with them, wanting to hurry before Mom might show up. I used a quieter tone. “What do y’all really think about Mom wanting to marry that man?”

  Some of their eyes shifted as though looking to see if she were coming. Gazes swerved to each other like they might be asking if they should talk.

  “You know what a lot of men do?” asked the rather plump Miss Ida who had bluish hair. “They take advantage of older women. Old guys go after the women to get their money or anything else they can get.”

  The lady who wore three strands of pearls and always shook her finger said, “Right. A lot of women are receiving pension checks that are better than those old men get. The men just want their husband’s social security or insurance payments.”

  Eve and I both sat on the edge of seats where women had shifted over to give us room and waved us closer. We leaned forward, urging them on with these arguments we could use with our mother.

  “We hope Mom hasn’t told him about her financial situation,” Eve said. “And he probably hasn’t said anything about his.”

  Ms. Grace stopped looking at pictures on her phone and dropped the device into her bra. It fell so low it resembled a budding third boob. “Yep, they’re all just about broke. Only want older women’s money.”

  The wheelchair bound woman had dozed a minute but woke, shaking her head. “That’s not true. Some of them just want to get in your drawers.”

  Eve grimaced, her face surely matching mine when I considered our aging mother and some older fellow.

  Miss Ida shook her head. “Yeah, but what about that woman Clarice? She wants him, too.”

  We only knew of Ms. Clarice as a fairly attractive, thin person with kidney problems who was assigned to eat meals at a table with our mother and two other ladies. Eve and I considered ourselves fortunate in the gene pool, since the only medicine Mom required was one pill a day for her mild heart problem. But if Ms. Clarice also wanted the man in question, possibly there was more hope that a proposed marriage between him and our mother would not take place. Eve’s eye shift toward me suggested she began hoping the same thing. Neither of us would want our mother to get in a catfight for a man.

  Rubber soles suctioned the floor beside us. The nurse, Belinda Hadley, stepped near. “I couldn’t help hearing some of this conversation, so I think now is the time I should mention this to all of you. Cases of HIV and venereal diseases in the aged have risen tremendously. None of you are protected from those things if you’re sexually active unless you use some protection, so we have decided to give condoms to any of our residents who need them. Just ask any one of us at the office.”

  I felt my jaw drop. Eve’s did the same. Most of the women with us frowned. One especially lively woman in the group made a worried face like she might be concerned about what she’d heard. The nurse walked off saying she would soon have a talk about sex with all the residents. My stomach roiled, ready to pitch my breakfast.

  Mom walked up with our client, the younger attorney, Edward, beside her.

  Eve shot to her feet. “You can’t marry him.”

  “No,” I said and stood. “Mom, you need to take your time and think about this.”

  A frown creased her forehead. She pulled her lips tight. She wasn’t ready to agree with us.

  Edward faced Mom. “I’ll tell you what, Miriam. With this kind of support from your daughters about you marrying my wonderful uncle, I think you two should do it right away.”

  “No!” Eve and I shouted.

  Mom gave our client a sweet smile. “That sounds like a grand idea. I’ll talk to Mac about it. You’ll get things prepared?”

  “I can do that in no time.” With a smile so wide it showed a gold-capped rear tooth, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Let me go find my uncle and discuss arrangements.”

  “He just went to his room to freshen up,” Mom said.

  I gripped her free hand. “Please don’t think of getting married yet.”

  She slipped her hand from mine. “I’ll make my own decisions. I’m old enough.”

  “You are,” I said and turned on Edward. “You’re the one who’s been pushing this wedding—probably from the start. You probably put that horrible idea in their minds in the first place.”

  “Yes, stop it,” Eve told him.

  “You two are finished at my place!” He pointed at Eve and me. “You’re done. Get your belongings out of my house and bill me for the work you’ve completed. I can’t believe you’re so hard on your mother.”

  “It’s because we love her,” I said, but Mom only frowned at us.

  A number of people who worked there and nearby residents all stared at us. Eve and I turned around and left the building.

  * * * *

  “One positive that might come out of what we’ve just been through,” Eve said, half an hour later while we sat in a rustic restaurant with our soft drinks. We had ridden around awhile, not saying a thing, trying to let our blood pressures go down before attempting anything else. “Of all those people who heard us, maybe somebody will come up with information we can use to stop her from doing it.”

  Not wanting to face what might soon lay ahead with our parent, we ordered the boiled seafood trio: shrimp, crayfish, and crabs. The spicy aroma of seasoning arrived before our large round plastic trays. The warm pink shrimp were plump and easy to peel with just enough spice. Crayfish took a pinch longer to get out of their harder red shells, and the crabs took longest, but were seasoned just right. Using the dip, I found all the food perfect.

  By the time we finished with our meal, we were stuffed but in better moods. It would be difficult to tackle food like we had just enjoyed and not find yourself in a lifted state of mind. Things would work out with our mother, we’d agreed. She was much too reasonable to rush into something as serious as marriage.

  We would return to speak with her during a quieter time, possibly after she took a long afternoon nap, we discussed while I drove up to Edward’s house.

  “Darn, I had hoped he wouldn’t be here when we came,” Eve said when we pulled up behind his car in the long concrete driveway edged with bricks that matched his house.

  “Should we come back tomorrow instead?” I tapped the brakes and then reconsidered. “No, let’s get it over with now.”

  “Maybe we can get him to change his mind about rushing to get those two together,” Eve said. “At least we should be able to learn more about his uncle from him.”

  We strode to the front door and rang the doorbell.

  Eve tapped her foot while I watched the windows to see if he would come through the great room. I hoped his face no longer wore the anger it bore the last time we saw him, t
wo or more hours ago.

  “Maybe he’s making bridal arrangements in there,” Eve said.

  That thought added to my ire. She rang the bell, and we waited more long minutes.

  “He might be in the backyard,” she said once we’d knocked and waited some more.

  “Or he could have left his car here and gone off with someone else.” I knocked hard and was ready to go for the key under the plant when Eve tried the door. It opened.

  “Hi, Edward, we’re here,” she called out. “It’s Eve and Sunny. We’re just here to get our equipment like you told us to do. We rang the doorbell and knocked.”

  I also called out his name and announced ours. Possibly he was upstairs. We didn’t come across him when we entered and didn’t see or hear him when we walked up the stairs and made our way to the large main bedroom, a beautiful space that would look even more fabulous once he furnished it. He had allowed us to store the few tools we often used there for measurements in one of the closets. We headed for the closet when I noticed water on the newly restored oak floor.

  I pointed at it and followed the slim trail to the adjourning master bathroom. We had designed this masterpiece with large oval-topped windows that revealed beautiful landscaping outside and a lavatory topped with black marble. A delicate chandelier glittered above a freestanding tub.

  The Christmas carol I sang let my twin know I had found what caused the water spill. Edward was fully clothed and might have floated out of his bathtub that overflowed onto the floor. He lay face up with unseeing eyes open, so even if he was spread eagle, he obviously wasn’t enjoying a relaxing soak.

  Chapter 3

  My misery with blurting carols when faced with a fearful situation stemmed from when I was eight and alone outside our house with our sixteen-year-old sister, Crystal. She had been talking to her friend on the phone when a drive-by shooter took her life. Shaking and terrified, I had no idea what to do, but wouldn’t leave my sister. Her friend on the phone told me she’d send help, and I sat beside Crystal, not letting myself cry. I knew if I did, I would never ever stop. Anguish filling my throat with sound needed to come out. My petrified mind let me voice a soothing sound, a carol. Ever since then, I had struggled to end that horrible trait.