Steeped in Malice by Vicki Delany

Author:Vicki Delany [Delany, Vicki]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2023-04-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

I pushed aside all thoughts of feuding families, lost wills, and murder most foul for the remainder of the day and got on with trying to make a living. I stayed late to catch up on my baking and prepare for another busy day tomorrow, and the sun was dipping into the bay when I locked up and headed home. I hadn’t heard from the police today, and that was definitely a good thing. Redmond must have been able to convince Williams that Wesley’s accusations against me had no merit.

I’d like to learn more about what had been going on. I’d like to keep digging. But I did have a restaurant to run and no time to open a detective agency as a side business.

A car passed me as I strolled up the driveway, enjoying the quiet of the evening. It was a Cadillac Escalade, black paint gleaming. A silver-haired man gave me a casual glance as he drove by. I didn’t recognize him, and I assumed he was a B & B guest, arriving late. He parked the car, climbed out, and headed directly for the house. He was alone, dressed in a dark suit, carrying only a briefcase. Unlikely to be a guest, then.

I didn’t turn off toward my cottage but followed him onto the veranda. No one was sitting out tonight, having a drink after dinner and relaxing from a busy day before turning in, so he’d rung the bell.

“Good evening,” I said. “Can I help you? Are you looking for a room for the night?”

He turned. He was around seventy. Short gray hair above a high forehead, light tan, thick glasses, teeth so white and straight they had to be dentures, manicured hands. “Do you work here?”

“I’m the granddaughter of the owner.”

At that moment the door opened to reveal Wesley Schumann. “Hi, Martin, thanks for coming. Lily, what’s up?”

“I was asking this gentleman if he needed anything.”

“I’ve got this, thanks. He’s here to talk to me.”

“If you have business to discuss,” I said helpfully, “you’d be more comfortable in the drawing room, if it’s not in use. Do you want me to check?”

“Good idea,” Martin said. “I hate doing business in hotel rooms.” I led him inside, and he looked around. “Nice house, this. How long has your grandmother owned it?”

“About three years.”

“She do okay out of it?”

“Well enough.”

He passed me a square of thick paper. “My card. If you need any legal advice, happy to help.”

“We don’t, but . . . thank you.”

The drawing room serves as a common room for guests. A place where people can gather if it’s a rainy day or if they don’t want to read alone in their room. We stock it with board games and well-thumbed paperbacks. Tonight, it was empty, and I gestured to Wesley and his visitor to come in.

Wesley gave me a sideways glance as he passed. “Thanks, Lily.”

I began to shut the door. I assumed this was one of the people Wesley was trying

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