A Dodgy Death Page 6

  Corbyn steppe gently and slowly, flipping on a couple of lights and setting a bag on the counter between the kitchen and the living room.

  “Nice place,” I said. It was. The kitchen, with granite counters and new linoleum, was separated from the living room with a counter and the whole effect was open and airy.

  Corbyn took off his jacket and hung it in the closet, then sat down in an easy chair in the living room. He motioned to us to do the same, studying me the whole time. Clarissa remained standing, gazing around the apartment. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, unless it was a note that read, “I did it! I’m the killer!”

  Fat chance.

  I sat down, feeling his eyes on me.

  “You favor her, you know,” he said quietly.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, clearing my throat. “I was surprised to hear that you had moved out of the B&B. Aunt Selma would never forgive me if I didn’t make sure you were all right.” I subtly crossed my fingers, adding in my mind, and hopefully not her killer.

  He chuckled, then leaned toward me in the chair. “That’s likely quite true. I just didn’t feel that I could keep living there if Selma wasn’t there. I just missed her too much.”

  The old man’s eyes filled with tears and he swallowed hard. “Too much,” he repeated softly.

  “I thought you didn’t have any money and that’s why you rented the room.” I watched him closely.

  “Is that what Selma told you?” Corbyn laughed out right. “No, I made plenty of money working. I just work now part-time to keep my hand in.”

  “Then why did you stay at Aunt Selma’s if you could afford something nicer? Not that Aunt Selma’s house wasn’t nice,” I acknowledged.

  He sat back in his chair, his right hand going over his heart. “Nothing will ever be as nice as Selma.”

  My mouth fell open as the proverbial light bulb clicked on over my head. “You loved her.”

  He nodded. “For years and years.”

  My mouth opened and closed a few times as I made sense of what he had said. Finally, I stammered out, “D-d-did she love you?”

  He nodded again. “We never made a big thing about it, just content to be with each other when we could.”

  Glancing at Clarissa, I saw her eyes were as wide as mine and her smile was amused.

  I peered closer at him and scooted to the edge of the sofa. “I hate to ask, but where were you when she died?”

  Corbyn studied the carpet, which still looked plush since he had only lived there a short time, then finally looked up at me.

  “I was out for my walk, like I always was just after lunch. That was Selma’s cleaning time after guests had cleared out, so I tried to make myself scarce. When I came home about two o’clock, she was lying at the bottom of the steps.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Did anyone else know you always walked after lunch?”

  “Everyone knew,” Clarissa chimed in. “He had his little route that took him up to the lookout not far from our house. He told Selma that he walked the whole time, but she knew he sat for quite a while at the lookout bench before he walked back down.”

  Corbyn chuckled and held up his left wrist. “She knew, especially after she got me this fitness tracker so she could check how many steps I was doing. I actually had to start walking around the bench a few times just to get in more steps.”

  “From the lookout bench, could you see Aunt Selma’s house, Corbyn?” I asked.

  He shook his head as his hand covered a yawn. “The lookout is up and around the corner from Selma’s.”

  “One more question and then we’ll let you go.” I didn’t want to keep an old man from his rest. “Did Aunt Selma talk to you about some Beatrix Potter illustrations she found?”

  Corbyn’s face creased with a frown. “She went on and on about them when that museum fella told her he wasn’t sure how much they were worth. She looked up other illustrations online and found out they were worth quite a lot. He wanted her to leave them with him, but she didn’t quite trust him.”

  “Why not? Wasn’t Potter his area of expertise?”

  “She said she got a strange ‘vibe’ from him.” Corbyn used air quotes. To be fair, that sounds like something Aunt Selma would say.

  “Do you have any idea what she did with them?”

  Corbyn shifted in his chair to get more comfortable. I just wanted to get enough answers before he dozed off on me.

  “I’m not sure. You know how your aunt was so fond of mysteries and clues?”

  Clarissa and I nodded in sync. Aunt Selma was a big fan of the “Father Brown” mysteries in Britain and the old “Murder She Wrote” series in the United States.

  “She was quite cryptic about it, whenever I would ask her. She told me she had put them in safe places and that Kat would know to follow the path to find them. That’s all she said.”

  I looked at Clarissa. “Follow the path. That’s what she told me, too.”

  Chapter 13

  We left Corbyn with sharp instructions to lock the door behind us. I know small town life is different, but in light of Aunt Selma’s sudden demise and the attempted break-ins at her house, it seemed wise.

  Clarissa had to hurry back to the tea shop. I waved through the window at Alex to let him know we had returned safely, then glanced at my watch. I had plenty of time for a light lunch, then I wanted to walk to that bench Corbyn talked about. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust the old man, but, at this point, I didn’t trust most people.

  I paused at that thought. Was that true? Was I suspicious of people in Aunt Selma’s town?

  I nodded to myself. Yes, yes, I was suspicious, particularly since it seemed that one of them might have killed Aunt Selma and tried to break into her house.

  Locking the front door of Aunt Selma’s house firmly behind me – and tugging on it a few times to make sure it was locked – I set off up the road in the opposite direction from the main street. I wasn’t sure how far it was to Corbyn’s bench, but still I was surprised when it took about twenty minutes of moderate uphill climbing. Corbyn must be in pretty good shape for a senior citizen to climb that hill every day.

  The bench sat on an outcropping looking over the town and Lake Windermere. It was such a lovely sight of the vibrantly green trees and calm water that I was surprised tourists and other townspeople hadn’t discovered it. I sat down and relaxed my shoulders as I leaned against the back.

  Corbyn was right. I couldn’t see Aunt Selma’s from here. I think I could pick out the house a few doors down from her B&B. If someone had left the B&B and walked north, however, perhaps Corbyn might have seen the culprit from the bench and not even realized that’s who he saw.

  Unless … my eyes narrowed at the new villainous thought that had crept into my head. What if Corbyn pushed Aunt Selma down the stairs, then went on his usual walk to the bench? Everyone on the street who usually saw him would have seen him that day, too, seemingly giving him an alibi. All he had to do was sit on the bench for an hour, then trot back down the hill to find – shock and horror! – Aunt Selma lying dead by the stairwell.

  I wrapped around myself at the idea. It really was the perfect plan except for one thing: I couldn’t see any motive for Corbyn to kill Aunt Selma.

  He said they loved each other, and I did remember Aunt Selma speaking quite fondly of Corbyn many times over the years, but what if he declared his true feelings for her and she just wanted to be “friends?” Did elderly people “friend-zone” each other? Would he have pushed her down the stairs in anger?

  I stood up to start the short walk back down the hill. Corbyn seemed like such a nice old man. I sure hoped he wasn’t a killer.

  Chapter 14

  The rest of the day and into the evening had been spent cleaning and trying to pack up some of Aunt Selma’s items.

  When I awoke the next morning, I decided to take myself for a breakfast treat at Clarissa’s tea shop. Clarissa waved me to the same table I sat at earl
ier.

  “Do you want your usual, luv?” she called from the kitchen with a grin.

  I laughed and gave her a thumbs-up. If coming here one time made me a regular, I was all for it. I sat sideways in my chair, my back learning against the wall as I studied the tea shop.

  A handful of two- and four-person tables strategically lined the edges. An aisle up the middle of the shop was lightly framed with small cabinets and large steamer trunks holding a variety of interesting knickknacks and tea accessories. Near the door stood a cabinet displaying quilts and throws as well as mittens and sweaters. The whole effect was soothing and cozy.

  Within a few minutes, Clarissa stepped back into the shop with my breakfast on a tray. I picked up the croissant sandwich as my mouth watered. My conversation the other day with Constable Allen had made me gobble my sandwich much too fast, and this time I wanted to savor each bite. I set it down and peeled it apart, checking to see what all the pieces were.

  Clarissa’s eyes widened and her lips drooped. “What are you doing to that lovely sandwich?”

  I grinned as I gently stuck it back together. “I just wanted to make sure I knew what all the parts were so that I can recreate it when I get home.”

  “You Americans.” Clarissa shook her head as she swirled the spoon in her teacup. “Speaking of which, tell me about home. Or perhaps tell me why you’re here instead of home.”

  I looked across the table at her with surprise, my hands wrapped around the croissant.

  “You know why I’m here. To settle Aunt Selma’s estate and pack up her house.”

  Clarissa pursed her lips and gently shook her head. “I think you could have paid someone to take care of all that for you. I think you wanted to come here. But the question is why?” She looked at me over her teacup. “Don’t you have a man back in the States and a job?”

  The bite of sandwich I had taken as Clarissa started talking felt lodged in the back of my throat. I finally grabbed the tea for a big gulp to knock it loose.

  “Well, I do have a … a…. a boyfriend, male friend, roommate, whatever you want to call him.”

  “It doesn’t sound very romantic, Kat, you and this ‘whatever you want to call him’.” Clarissa made a face and used air quotes.

  I gripped the teacup as I searched for a response. I finally went with the truth.

  “We’ve been together for four years and have lived together for two. I thought that would help me feel better about it, if we lived together. He’s a lovely man, and he loves me.”

  “But?”

  “But … he’s asked me to marry him twice and both times I couldn’t say yes.” I set down the tea and picked up the sandwich, studying the interior with even more interest. I wasn’t actually seeing it at all. “Maybe it’s because I was married before, in my twenties, and it didn’t end well. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Clarissa sat and smiled over her teacup, held in her hand with both elbows on the table. “So you came here.”

  “So I came here.” I agreed and took a big bite. Perhaps if my mouth was full, I wouldn’t have to answer any more questions about my confusing love life.

  “And your job? You do work, right?”

  I nodded as I chewed. My word, this woman was nosy. I liked her a lot, but she was just as chatty as Aunt Selma had said. I sighed because I had no one but myself to blame. I had walked down to the tea shop all on my own.

  Finally, I swallowed the last bit as Clarissa waited patiently for me to answer her question.

  “Yes, of course, I have a job. I’m a little offended you thought I might not work.”

  “Not everyone works at a job, luv. My Hugh has been out of work and looking for ages. It’s messes with a man’s psyche.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Well, I do have a job. I’m in marketing. We sell people’s products for them, making them sound wonderful and worth buying.”

  Clarissa yawned, lightly covering her mouth with her hand. I couldn’t tell for sure if it was real or fake. Either way, clearly, my profession bored her.

  “Excuse me, but I can tell it’s not something you love to do.” Clarissa set down her cup and peered at me. “What do you want to do?”

  Good question.

  “If I knew the answer to that, I probably wouldn’t be here in the middle of nowhere England, now would I?”

  We both burst out laughing, releasing the awkward tension that had been building.

  I finished off my sandwich and sipped some tea, then leaned my head on my upright hand. “I used to be an investigative reporter for a newspaper, and I loved doing that. I guess I wish I could keep writing for newspapers or write really anything.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. I have a creative on my hands. We can work with that.” Clarissa rubbed her hands together and watched me with a self-satisfied smile on her face.

  I wiped up the crumbs around my plate and placed the crumpled paper napkin on top until I could throw it out.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of years now. What makes you think you can help solve my problem?” I asked quietly.

  Clarissa pursed her lips, then smiled. “I suspect you’ve been trying to solve your problems on your own. It’s been my experience that two heads are better than one.”

  “Then, other head of mine, tell me what you thought of Corbyn yesterday.”

  It was time to change the subject, so I told her how I had walked to the bench and wondered if he did it after all.

  Clarissa shook her head and made a face. “If he had done it, he would have been a right mess while he did his walk. Plus, he would have been late, and someone would have noticed. No, I think we can mark off Corbyn.”

  The bell over the front door tinkled, drawing Clarissa’s gaze away from our table. My eyes followed to see several people chatting as they came through the door.

  I motioned her away. “Go help your customers. I’m going to head home.”

  She jumped up and pushed in her chair, then breezed to the front counter, where she proceeded to take tea and breakfast orders.

  As I stood up to prepare to leave, she called from the counter. “Oh, by the way, Kat, I’ve asked Hugh to go over and rake up your back yard today or tomorrow. He used to do that for Selma, and I noticed it looking a bit down in the mouth the other day.”

  I waved at her. “Thanks, Clarissa.”

  I dumped my garbage in the bin and set the plate and cup on the end of the counter, then I turned out the door, glancing at my watch. I started when I saw how late it had gotten and realized I had just enough time to get home and change. Cousin Franklin had offered to show me the area, and I had agreed to take him up on it.

  He showed up on my front step right on time. We started off toward his Jeep, me heading to open the American passenger side when I noticed him watching me with an amused look on his face and I realized my mistake. He held up the keys and wiggled them at me.

  Blushing, I tried to make light of the situation by swinging open his door and gesturing him into the driver’s seat. We both laughed and I walked around to the other side of the vehicle, remembering what Aunt Selma thought of my cousins. Frankly, I felt like the nitwit now.

  Franklin drove me through town and over into Bowness, pointing out the landmarks and government offices. We stopped at a park along the lake. Franklin told me the lake was the largest in England, stretching eleven miles long. All I knew was that it was beautiful, all blues and greens.

  We returned to the Jeep and headed north on a two-lane road out of town. The Lake Country is known as a hiking destination, so Franklin wanted to show me one of the trails that clung to the lake’s shore.

  I smiled as we passed sheep in fields kept at bay by old drystone walls. The branches of old-growth trees hung over the road, at times blocking the sun.

  We pulled off the road into a gravel parking lot and set out from the trailhead onto a well-used path into the forest. He filled me in on some of the nearby family, urging me to come to one of th
eir gatherings if I was still in town. He glanced over at me as we walked.

  “Have you given any thought to what you’ll do with the business, Kat?” he asked.

  I stopped and opened one of the plastic water bottles he had brought for us. “I should close it up and sell it, I suppose.”

  He nodded as if he had expected that response. “I thought as much.”

  I peered at him closely. “I’m sorry, you know, that she left it to me and not to you or our other cousins. I’m not sure why she did.”

  Franklin chuckled and swigged back some of his water. “Your grandmother was quite a bit older than Aunt Selma was and she always looked up to her. I think she wished she had been the one to go to America.”

  “But she married Uncle Lyndon and stayed here.” I finished the story for him.

  “Aye,” he nodded, then capped the lid on his water. “Don’t worry about the cousins and me, Kat. We’re all doing well enough.”

  I slowly closed my own water as we turned to move further along the trail. “What would you do with the B&B?”

  Franklin rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. “I’d probably try to keep it running so that I’d have a nice retirement income tucked away.”

  We continued climbing on the trail, which was covered in greenery and passed by a small castle. Franklin regaled me with some of the castle’s details, including the tidbit that at one point the owners took off the roof of the castle so they wouldn’t have to pay certain taxes. It made me wonder what lengths people would go to in order to keep their home.

  We turned a corner and stepped out onto an outcropping overlooking Lake Windermere. The view took my breath away. I climbed over the top of a short stone wall so I could dangle my feet and look out over the lake before we headed back down the trail.

  Franklin sat down backwards next to me. As he went to swing his legs over the wall, he crashed into me.

  With a yelp, I slid off the wall and tumbled down the hill toward Lake Windermere.

  Chapter 15