Spring INNto Murder by Maggie Benton

Author:Maggie Benton [Benton, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Summer Prescott Books
Published: 2023-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

“Let’s go!” said George, picking up the pace.

“We can’t keep up,” said Helen. “She’s getting away!”

“Come on,” said Annie, waving everyone toward the garage.

A few moments later, six bicycles rolled out—one of them a bicycle built for two, which Hazel and Harry had mounted. They pedaled up the drive and down the quiet road that led into town, far enough behind Mrs. Dankworth that she wouldn’t see or hear them. Luckily, they knew exactly where she was going. They parked their bikes in the shadows on a side street and dodged around the back side of the row of shops that included the McFadden Gallery.

“Hold up. The back door is open,” whispered George.

A column of light from the open door spilled out into the alleyway that ran behind the shops. It was easy enough to sneak along, right up against the building, and remain out of sight. Mrs. Dankworth’s bike was carelessly leaning against a nearby tree, and her voice could be heard coming from just inside the open door.

“I know you won’t have to work too hard to sell this,” she said, her voice quavering. There was the sound of a zipper—the backpack being opened—then a momentary pause.

“Jane, are you sure about this?” McFadden asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Can you sell it or not?” came Mrs. Dankworth’s terse reply.

“Oh, easily. That won’t be a problem. But Jane—” McFadden hesitated. “Didn’t your husband have life insurance? Won’t you be able to—”

“It’s going to take some time to process, and I need money now,” said Mrs. Dankworth. “My lawyer is working on it. It’s just—” She paused, and it sounded as though she might be struggling not to cry. “Hank lived a very extravagant life. He had debts I didn’t even know about. I could sell the inn, but it’s my life. I’d rather lose a few baubles, a few paintings, than—than—” There was a pause and Helen could picture the proud woman collecting herself. “Thankfully, the money from Hank’s insurance policy will be coming in soon, and I’ll be okay. But in the meantime, this is a small price to pay.”

“As you wish,” said McFadden. “And rest assured, this will be sold in no time at all. I have one collector in particular looking for items of this sort.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Dankworth’s footsteps moved toward the door.

“Jane—wait,” said McFadden. “Hold up a second.”

There was a pause. “Yes?”

“You’re one of my oldest and dearest friends, so I’d never lead you astray . . .”

“I know that, Peter. What is it?”

“That couple staying at your inn—the Huntleys, I believe they’re calling themselves . . .”

“Yes?”

“I’d stay clear of them if I were you.”

Another pause. “Why?”

“I’m pretty sure I recognized them when I saw them in town today. They’re, well . . .”

“Out with it, Peter.”

“Just, well, they’re up to no good, I’m afraid. You might steer clear.”

Mrs. Dankworth didn’t answer, but a moment later, had turned on her heel and was heading for the door. Everyone quickly stepped around the back corner of the building and stayed still until she had peddled away.

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