Lily White Lie (Wrenn Grayson Mystery Series Book 3) by Connie Chappell

Author:Connie Chappell [Chappell, Connie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 4am Books
Published: 2018-10-10T23:00:00+00:00

Spyware

The three of us stood on a circle of Persian rug while each man registered his extreme pleasure at being introduced to the other, then I cut in.

“Ogden, I think I have a name to go with the watch.”

“Already? That’s great. What is it?”

“You’re always so enthusiastic. You don’t know what that means,” I said, giving Bret a look from the corner of my eye. After these few seconds of suspense, I granted Ogden’s request. “Francis Gallagher Bryan.”

Ogden absorbed this for a beat before saying, “You’re sure?”

“It has to be.”

Then he swung his beaming face to Bret. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

“A peach.”

I smiled inwardly at Bret’s sarcastic delivery, then forged on. “I have you to thank. I found it in one of Applegarth’s almanacs. Bryan was a carpenter. And guess what?”

“What?” Ogden asked, matching my zeal and irritating Bret further.

“He carved his initials in the framework around one of the tower windows. I found them just before we came over. I think he must have been leaving his mark for posterity when the watch dropped between the walls.”

“Unintentionally, he left us something else as well. Now,” Ogden said, rubbing his hands, “ready for the tour?”

“We don’t need the full tour, Ogden. You know what we came to see.”

A wide smile spread across Ogden’s face, apprehension across Bret’s.

Ogden and I looped arms and he guided us toward the back of the house with Bret bringing up the rear. We passed a powder room and kitchen on the right and the dining room on the left. Impromptu visits like this one gave insight into one’s housekeeping tendencies. I awarded Ogden high marks for neatness, that is, unless he hid all the junk behind the bi-fold closet door stationed where the hallway emptied into his generous family room. With Ogden and me out front, we effectively curtailed Bret’s field of vision just as I planned. After we crossed the threshold into the family room, I turned, wanting to fully appreciate the expression on Bret’s face as he filed in.

It did not disappoint.

He was caught in my headlights for a moment until his surroundings clicked in, then his mouth dropped open. He came to an abrupt halt. Ogden’s chattering died away as every ounce of Bret filled with wonderment.

This was one of those experiences to which you must simply surrender yourself. None of us are immune, even the crass and equally charming Bret Kilmore. His head and neck gradually rotated to the left. His eyes, as vividly green as I ever saw them.

As quickly as he was seized by the apparition, he was also released. “The Garden of Eden,” he said, aptly naming Ogden Mason’s greenhouse. “A recreation, of course.”

Impressive, I thought. He pulled himself together in true Kilmore fashion. In truth, we stood in the family room, or the anteroom to Ogden’s greenhouse, looking through the south wall, which was now just one side of a 20-by-30 foot, glass-enclosed room, attached to the house.

Laughing through his words, Ogden said, “There’s absolutely no comparison, I’m sure.

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