OOLONG, FAREWELL by WEISS KIRSTEN

Author:WEISS, KIRSTEN [WEISS, KIRSTEN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: misterio press
Published: 2020-09-21T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Hssst. Hyperion! Hssst.”

Hyperion jerked his head and banged it on my car’s window frame. He scowled, blue and red lights careening across his face.

“Hyperion. Abigail.” Archer motioned from his driveway.

I blinked. Archer wore a blue smoking jacket and black velvet lounge pants.

And he managed to pull off the look.

I slowly reversed, and the older man stepped aside for me to park. Hyperion and I stepped from the car.

“How did you know?” Archer asked. “Did someone call you?”

Hyperion shook his head. “We had a bad feeling.”

“Of course you did. I knew I was right to hire you. Though your mother, Abigail…” He shook his head.

“She’s highly meditated,” I said, and Hyperion snorted. “What’s happened?”

“Vanella’s dead,” Archer said. “You’d better come in. We can see what’s happening over my other gate. It has the best view.”

We followed the older man across the sloping lawn to the gate. The eucalyptus leaves rustled like dried paper. A waning moon cast wavering shadows through them. Archer cracked the gate open. The three of us smushed together and peered through the gap.

Police congregated around an open garage.

“The garage?” I asked.

“It was ghastly,” Archer said. “She was completely blue.”

“Wait.” I turned to him, bumping Hyperion. “Are you telling us you found her?” This was so not good.

“Abigail...” A feminine voice fluted.

My shoulders hunched.

My mother floated across the lawn, her caftan wafting about her legs. “I should have known you'd be here,” she said.

I forced a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Well.” She motioned toward the gate and the fateful house beyond. “That.”

Hyperion frowned. “But how did you know?”

“Did you follow Pepper here?” I asked.

“Of course not,” she said. “I left her back at the restaurant. Dinner was delicious, by the way. It is so hard to find really good French cuisine.”

“Don't you want to hear my dramatic story?” Archer asked.

“Oh,” I said. “Right. Sorry. You found the body?”

He adjusted his cravat. “I did. I was relaxing by the pool, enjoying the stars—”

“They’re so much brighter in the South Pacific,” my mother said. “Less light pollution.”

“Er, yes,” Archer said. “As I said, I was relaxing, and I heard a motor running. At first I didn't think anything of it. There was something rather soothing about the sound. It was so much quieter and more regular than the usual shrieks and bass beats from that house.”

“The motor was white noise,” my mother said.

“Exactly,” he said. “But the motor kept going on and on. It became irritating. So I walked over there to complain.”

“Through this gate?” I asked.

“I had to use this gate. The front gate was locked.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Yes. And no one answered when I rang. But her front door was wide open. I called out, and no one answered. The motor was obviously coming from the garage, so I made my way there and found her. Dead in her Mercedes, a garden hose running from the exhaust pipe to her window. Of course, I opened the garage door right away. The car doors were locked, but it was obvious she was dead.

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