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Authors: Kathleen Delaney

5 Murder by Syllabub (16 page)

BOOK: 5 Murder by Syllabub
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“Come on in.” Noah pushed the door open. “I’ve done some restoration on this one. Tried to make it as much like it was in
1750 as I could.” He stepped in and gave me a hand up. The cabin was one room with a fireplace on the far wall. The firebox simply ended on the packed earth floor. There was a mantel of sorts, at least a place to put things or hang utensils. Well-worn wooden planks covered most of the floor and a faded cotton braided rug lay over part of it. There was a log ladder in one corner. A loft covered almost half of the cabin, thinly covered with straw. I looked over at Noah.

He nodded. “Beds for the kids. The parents, or the old folks who could no longer climb, slept down here. You had a bedstead, if you were lucky, with ropes for springs, but instead of what the white folks used, these black folks had the leavings from the corncribs or straw. Anything the animals couldn’t eat. If you had hay fever, you were in for a bad time.”

I wondered if that was supposed to be another joke. There wasn’t much room. By the time you got some kind of table in here, benches probably, maybe a chair, a bed, cooking pots and cupboards to hold plates, where did the people go?

I walked over to one window. Another cabin was only
a few feet away. I turned back to the fireplace. Smaller than the one at the Payton Randolph kitchen or the one in Elizabeth’s gathering room, but then, so was the room it serviced. Dare I ask Noah some of the questions that sprang to mind? He’d given me an opening up by the barn. If he didn’t want to say anything more, he didn’t have to.

“Would your family have lived in one of these?”
The question came out more tentatively than I would have liked.

Noah smiled. At my discomfort? “Oh, yes. At least, up until after the Civil War. Which cabin, I don’t know, but our family, at least some of it, has been on Smithwood since the mid eighteenth century.”

“What did you mean, you’re tied to Smithwood.”

All traces of a smile faded. Noah walked over to the front door. His voice was muffled, almost as if talking to himself as much as to me. “I don’t know what to do about it. William was going to take care of it, but now he’s dead.”

“Noah, I’ve never been very good at guessing games, so why don’t you just tell me what’s going on? You never know. Maybe I can help.”

He shrugged. It wasn’t hard to interpret. He didn’t think there was any chance I could help.

Noah turned and leaned up against the doorjamb. He surveyed the room, paused at the fireplace and moved on to the loft. Finally, his eyes returned to me. “There’s a chair on the porch. Let’s go out there.”

He motioned for me to take the chair and lowered himself down on the porch beside me, his back up against one of the pillars that held up the porch roof.

His voice was low and devoid of emotion. “The Longos came over from Portugal before the Revolutionary War. The family was educated. They worked as accountants, estate managers, craftsmen, that kind of thing, but were still slaves. The Smithwoods bought the whole family.”

That simple statement made me flinch. The idea that someone could buy a person, let alone a whole family made me feel a little faint. Now, however, wasn’t the time. Noah had to go on, but I couldn’t suppress the disgust that ran through me.

“We were lucky. The Smithwoods used the skills we had and let us pass those on to our children. For the most part, anyway.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Right after the Civil War, Mr. James Smithwood made a deal with my great-great-grandfather. He’d give him that piece of land and several acres to do with as he wanted.” Noah waved in the general direction of his house. “Only, it wasn’t a gift. In return, my granddaddy had to stay here, on Smithwood, and run the estate.”

It had once been against the law to teach a slave to read or write. A Negro recently freed, but with no formal education or place to go, would trust the word of a man of his own race over that of a white man. If a Longo ran the estate, he could get people to work here, lure them with the possibility of betterment, a school. Old Mr. Smithwood had made a shrewd bargain, one that benefited both of them, at least for a while.

It was as if Noah read my thoughts.
His eyes reflected two hundred years of oppression, although his lips attempted a smile. “The story goes that this was the most popular place to work for years. A Longo has lived here ever since.”

“A Longo still manages the plantation?”

Noah shook his head. “There hasn’t been any plantation to manage since the last tobacco was harvested years ago. No, we stay because we have no choice. We don’t officially own the land our house is on. We don’t have a deed to the house, either. Legally, we’re squatters. William was going to do something about that. Only, he died.”

Noah
looked deathly serious. Thumping his chest, he declared, “I’m the last one. Everyone else has moved on. If I do the same, then all the years, all the work, not to mention the money, we’ve invested in our little corner of Smithwood, will be gone. It will belong to whoever owns the plantation.”

I didn’t know what to say. There was passion in Noah’s voice, and despair. I was surprised he
’d risked revealing his innermost feelings but no, maybe I wasn’t. He had to talk to someone, and so far, I presented no threat.

“This
subject must have come up before. Did anyone talk to William’s father?”

“Hanford Smithwood died when I was little. He was a mean old buzzard. I’m told my father brought it up
with him several times, but he laughed. It served his purpose to keep things just as they were.”


You mean he could have kicked you off?”

“There’s nothing in writing to
back our claim. Oh, we could take it to court. We might even win. That costs money.” It would also cost a friendship. I wondered how much that weighed on Noah. It would certainly matter to Mildred.

Noah looked down the hill toward the fenced pasture. One of the horses raised its head, evidently finished with its grain, and walked off. Its coat glowed silver in the fading light. The other two followed. The cat came out of the barn, paused to make sure
the coast was clear, then walked sedately over to the fence, jumped on it and preceded to sharpen its claws. Petal walked out of the barn, glanced at the cat and trotted down the fence line. A more peaceful, pastoral picture I couldn’t imagine.

“I like it here. I like my animals. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to be kicked out, either. This is my home, always has been. Felicity and I want a family. We’d like to raise our children here, but not if we can lose it all at any time. ” He suddenly grinned. “No deed, but no mortgage, either. That’s the only good thing.”

“Won’t Elizabeth help?”

“William was going to. I thought Elizabeth would follow through, but she hasn’t.”

I had an almost overwhelming need for another cup of tea. It had been an exhausting day in lots of ways, and Noah’s narrative wasn’t perking me up. What a terrible problem. Noah left me with more questions. Now didn’t seem to be the time to ask them, but one question came to mind that needed an answer. No, two. “Noah, if Elizabeth went to jail, who would have control of the property? Cora Lee?”

“No. Well, yes. She’s had control for years. It’s not hers, though, and never will be. She can’t inherit and neither can her children.”

I’d suspected something like that. Only, why? I filed that question away for further investigation. “Monty thought he could get Smithwood away from Elizabeth. If he had succeeded, what would he have done?”

“You mean, would he have made trouble? You bet. He wanted to sell off the whole plantation, at least what’s left of it, to developers. We would have been out, and without a dime. He told me so.”

Noah turned to look at me, repressed anger flaming in his eyes. “And, no, I didn’t have a showdown with him. If I had, I would have beaten him to a pulp. Sneaky stuff, like poison, wouldn’t be my style.”

I nodded. I could see Noah holding Monty by the neck while he flattened his nose. Poison? No.

His mouth twisted into one of those tight little smiles. “Turns out Monty lied about his chances of getting Smithwood. He told me he’d already made a deal with Elizabeth. It was just a matter of time. I should have known. Monty always lied.” He pushed away from the pillars, stretched and reached down for the pails. “I can hear those calves bellowing. Better get in there and feed them. They’re off to a new home tomorrow. Wouldn’t want Guy to think I neglected them.”

I stood and stretched
as well. Darkness had descended fast. The pasture lay in deep shadows. So did the steep road back up to the house. I swallowed a sigh and squared my shoulders. There was a little light. I’d go slow and be just fine. “Come up for dinner when you’re through. Elizabeth’s having a fit about that lawyer Payton Culpepper chose for her, and we need to calm her. She left a message for William’s attorney, Aaron Glass. Do you know him?”

“Oh, yes. Best thing she could have done. He’s a fine man.”

I had one more question for Noah before he disappeared. “Why did Payton Culpepper show up here? Elizabeth didn’t call him. No one in the family seems to like him. What was he doing here?”

Noah paused and his expression changed.
The anger he had been trying to suppress was back. “Culpepper never does anything that doesn’t benefit him. I have no idea why he showed up, but I’m sure he had something in mind. He hasn’t been out here since he and Monty were in high school.” He hesitated. “No, I guess the last time was right after Monty’s mother died. Anyway, tell Elizabeth to make sure Glass understands it’s urgent. Something’s going on with Payton. Rumors are beginning to surface that aren’t pleasant. What that has to do with us, I have no idea, but Elizabeth needs to stay away from him and that whole firm.” He headed for the barn. “There’s a yard light at the front of the barn. I’ll turn it on for you. It won’t reach all the way over here, but it’ll help. Tell Mom I’ll leave it on for her, too.”

“Aren’t you coming up for dinner?”

“No.” He didn’t turn, just tossed the word over his shoulder. “I’m meeting Felicity. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Wait.”

Noah stopped and turned around, his patience clearly exhausted. “Yes?”

“How long had Monty been dead when we found him?”

“No more than a couple of hours, maybe less. The autopsy should tell us.” He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. I knew that speculative look. I’d seen it on my husband the policeman in his official capacity. “Why?”

“Just wondered.” I waited for him to say something more, but instead he disappeared into the barn. Almost immediately the yard light went on. I started up the main road toward the house. The hill was steeper than I thought. I should have followed Noah back toward the barn where I could see where I was walking. What was that? Something by my legs, touching me. I quelled the scream that welled up just in time. It was Petal, touching me with her nose, urging me on. I took a deep breath to try to slow my racing heart. I wasn’t used to all this farm stuff. At home we had cement sidewalks and streetlights.

I stood in front of the French doors for a second. Petal was at my feet, looking up expectantly. “In a minute.” Noah and Felicity weren’t the only ones who had a lot to talk about. I didn’t want to be gasping for breath when I went in. Besides, I needed time to think. Noah’s revelation had been disturbing. Had he believed Monty? Had Mildred? She had keys and she certainly knew her way around all the houses. How would I feel if someone tried to take my home away from me? Terrified, furious. Enough to commit murder? I didn’t want to believe that either Mildred or Noah was capable of murder, but the loss of their home would be devastating. Did they believe the only way to protect it was through Monty’s death? If so, what about the ghostly prowler? I reached for the door handle. I liked Mildred but couldn’t let that influence me. Someone had committed murder. It wasn’t Elizabeth. I had to figure out the real culprit. Another thought occurred to me. Everyone talked about Noah and his mother. No one mentioned his father. Why? I started to push the latch down but abruptly stopped. What was that? Movement. Down the hill toward the barn. Nothing. Only, there had been something. Just a flash, but something. Noah? No. He was whistling inside the barn. Was Calvin still here? Surely he’d
finished for the day
.
A horse nickered. Of course, just one of the horses. I opened the door, Petal bounded through it, followed by Max. Where had he come from? The barn? I turned to look down the hill, but all was quiet. I followed them into the room.

 

Chapter Eleven

“I
t’s dry. It shouldn’t be. I used a whole jar of sauce.” Disgusted, Elizabeth picked at the lasagna. “No matter how hard I try, nothing I make comes out very good. Next time I’ll buy the frozen stuff.”

Aunt Mary, whose lasagna never comes out dry, smiled at Elizabeth and took a mouthful of salad. “It’s fine. I have a great recipe for basic tomato sauce. I’ll send it to you.”

Mildred tore off a piece of bread and took a bite. Cora Lee rolled hers up into a buttery little ball and dropped it on her plate.

I laid down my fork and took a sip of the wine.
The lasagna was much more palatable with a few extra swigs of red wine. “I wish I knew if they’d done the autopsy yet.”

“I don’t see why you’re so hung up on that. We know he was poisoned. What more is there?” Cora Lee abandoned her bread in
favor of her wineglass.

“When.”

“When what?” Elizabeth set her fork down as well and pushed her half-eaten lasagna aside.

“When he died.” I hoped my relief didn’t show as I pushed mine aside also. “You aren’t paying attention. Noah thought Monty had been dead about two hours when we found him. Cora Lee said she’d been back about an hour before we got here. That means whoever killed him
stuck around for at least that long. That person didn’t leave until we saw the light and started over there. That person was in the house, with Monty dead on the floor, the whole time Cora Lee was making salad and doing whatever else.”

“Unpacking, putting my things away.” Cora Lee turned white and set her glass down on the table with visibly shaking hands. “My God. That passageway door was unlocked. That person could have come over here
at any time. I think I’m going to pass out.”

“No, you’re not. Have another sip of wine.” Elizabeth followed her own advice. “Why? Why would anyone stay around with someone right next door who might discover them at any minute?” There was no more color in her face than in Cora Lee’s.

“They were looking for something.” Mildred was shaken, but I thought she was holding together better than the other two. “That’s the only reason I can think of. Whoever it was spent that time searching the house. Then, when he heard Cora Lee, he stayed quiet. Maybe he thought she’d leave again or something. When everyone else turned up, he left.”

I nodded. “
At some point, almost certainly before Cora Lee arrived, he, or she, came over here and put the glass in the dishwasher. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Only, where did he or she go?”

Cora Lee
’s skin got even whiter, if possible. “I have no idea. What does Noah think?”

“I didn’t ask him.” I pushed back my chair, picked up my plate and started for the sink. “We talked about the animals.”

Mildred stood also. She picked up Elizabeth’s plate as well as her own. “Don’t bother. I’ve got them.” She addressed this to Cora Lee, who hadn’t shown any sign she planned on making an effort. She smiled as Aunt Mary cleared everything else off the table. “He does love those animals. Always has, even when he was a little boy. But then, I’m pretty fond of my hens.” She scraped lasagna into the sink as Aunt Mary emptied the salad bowl. It looked as if none of us had had much of an appetite after all.

“Is that all you talked about? Smelly sheep?” It was obvious Cora Lee didn’t share Noah’s fondness for farm animals.

“No.” I turned to face them. “We talked about deeds and where he and Felicity are going to live.”

Mildred’s face
froze. She just stood there, her hand on the tap, plate in the sink, incapable of movement.

Cora Lee clutched her cane, her mouth making a soft “oh.”

“Oh, my God. The deed. I forgot all about it.” Elizabeth’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes round. “How could I? I promised William I wouldn’t. Oh, Mildred. I’m so sorry. Aaron is doing something. He had it figured out.” She looked at Mildred’s face and gasped. “You knew we were going to. Did you think I’d changed my mind?” She was on her feet, enveloping Mildred in a huge hug. “Oh, honey. You’re one of my best friends. You’re not going anywhere. You can’t. Neither can Noah.” She pushed Mildred away a little and studied her face. “Unless you want to.” Her eyes welled up with tears. “You don’t want to, do you?”

Mildred’s eyes were just as damp. She reached out and hugged Elizabeth then turned her brightest smile on her. “Of course not. We knew you hadn’t forgotten.

Only
, what showed through the tears was fear. Mildred had thought they were going to lose their home. She thought Monty somehow made a deal with Elizabeth, or that his threats worked and he was going to own Smithwood. She might not have been absolutely positive, but she’d been scared. Noah also thought they would lose the tentative hold they had on their piece of Smithwood. Only, he wasn’t scared. He was angry. Damn! It couldn’t be true. Neither of these good people could have committed murder. But I knew almost anyone could if pushed hard enough. Had Monty pushed them over that very thin line?

“That’s taken care of, then.” Mildred turned back to the sink. Water ran,
and so did the garbage disposal.

Mildred reached around Mary
, took the dishtowel down off the peg and wiped her hands. Her hands shook a little as she hung it back up, and the lines around her mouth had deepened. “I’d best be going. Thank you for dinner and, Elizabeth, honey, thank you for telling me. It’s good to know things are in progress. Let us know when Aaron calls back, will you? I’m going to be worried sick until I know he’s taking care of you.”

“Aaron’s going to take care of everything.” Cora Lee leaned on her cane, watching the little drama unfold. The
raw anger in her eyes was new to me. The mocking, sarcastic Cora Lee was gone. This woman looked tired, sad and undeniably angry. “Go talk to Noah. You’ll get your deed. Aaron and Elizabeth will take care of it. Don’t you dare move, and don’t you let Noah.” Her voice changed and so did the look in her eyes. “After all, it’s time we had little ones running around here again.”

Mildred paused,
took a quick intake of breath and smiled. Tight, uncertain, but still a smile. “There’s nothing I’d love better than grandbabies but, Cora Lee, let’s get through the wedding first.” She opened the French doors and started out. Max was right behind her, Petal behind him. “Keep an eye on this door. Petal will be back as soon as she does her nightly.” The door closed and she was gone.

Elizabeth handed me my glass of wine and poured herself another half-glass. She
listed the bottle in the air and gave Cora Lee a questioning look.

“Of course.” Cora Lee held out her glass. “I’d love to know what that rat Monty told them. Mildred actually thought he’d end up with Smithwood.”

“So did Noah.” Aunt Mary’s voice was soft, thoughtful. “William, Elizabeth, Cora Lee, you’ve all been their friends. Monty must have been pretty convincing to destroy that trust.”

Exactly what I was thinking. Only, what had Monty done, or
said, that resulted in his death?

“What was that?” Elizabeth’s head jerked up. Barking. Shrill, frantic barking. “Petal. Where is she? She sounds hysterical.” She started to push back her chair.

Deeper, more menacing barking joined in. “That’s Max.” Cora Lee said. “They’re not up here. They must be down by the barn. Something’s going on.” She steadied herself with her cane and started toward the French doors.

The barking intensified. It became frantic. There was one loud yelp followed by a scream, then silence. Cora Lee stopped. Her whole body stiffened as she looked from the door back at us. “What was that?”

“Mildred.” Elizabeth headed toward the door almost at a run, Cora Lee right behind her.

“Wait.” Aunt Mary headed for the door as well. “You can’t go down there. We don’t know what’s happening.”

“That was Mildred. Something’s wrong.” Cora Lee paused only long enough to yell back. “Bring that cellphone. Bring the flashlight, too. Hurry.”

My heart pounded so hard it
was difficult to breathe. There could be no doubt something bad had happened. My purse was where? On the highboy. I grabbed it, fished around and finally came up with my cell. The flashlight? Aunt Mary already had it. She headed for the door and stepped through. I was at her heels. “At least there wasn’t a gunshot.”

“Are we supposed to be grateful for small favors?
” She started down the steep incline as fast as the gravel would allow.

BOOK: 5 Murder by Syllabub
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