A Devious Lot (Antiques & Collectibles Mysteries Book 5) (25 page)

“Of course I do. I live in a small village. Everyone knows he killed a man. That doesn’t mean he’d kill again, or that Giles made him do it.”

“Giles was willing to pay Tiffany a million dollars,” Molly pointed out. “A million would be tempting to a man like Reggie, struggling to make ends meet. And with Tiffany gone, Giles’s problem, and yours, would be history. Tiffany would never be able to tell anyone what she knew, and she’d never come back for more.”

Dora opened her mouth but quickly closed it when they heard the sound of tires crunching over gravel. Molly looked out the window. Two police cruisers with flashing lights were coming down the driveway fast.

Dora blew out her breath. “Shit,” she said. “You did call the cops.”

“No, I didn’t,” Molly said. But she thought she knew who did. Lombardi was the only person who knew she was going to knock on the door of Mrs. Nancy Tremblay’s house in Rimstock.

A look of resignation passed over Dora’s face. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. “You know what’s really ironic?” she said. “Now that I’m Dora Lang again, I can’t even afford a lawyer.”

Chapter 28

Early the next morning, Molly sat in front of Inspector Boyle’s desk as he read the statement she’d given to the Rimstock police. She picked up a mug of coffee and took a sip. It was tepid and too strong, but it was better than nothing. She stifled a yawn. It was hard staying awake after that long drive home in the dark from Rimstock to Marlow Crossing. She’d gotten very little sleep and Boyle had called to ask—no, demand—that she be at his office at eight o’clock sharp.

He finished reading and sat back in his chair. It squeaked like nails on a chalkboard and made Molly wince. “How’s your aunt?” he asked.

“Still in the hospital, recovering from surgery,” she said.

“Well, please give her my best,” he said. Molly didn’t respond. She was tired and cranky and wished he would get on with the scolding she was anticipating. “You shouldn’t have taken it upon yourself to drive all the way to Rimstock alone, or show a photograph of Penelope around town, or go to a house where a murderer could have been hiding. You should have called me, or the Rimstock police.” He shook his head. “What happened, Molly, to make you lose all common sense?”

Molly felt herself blush. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “In retrospect, I know I should have called you. But there was no guarantee anyone was living at the house.”

“Yet you went to the door when a light came on, even though it could have been on a timer,” he said. “And you confronted her on your own, without knowing how she was going to react. If Detective Lombardi hadn’t called me, things might have turned out very differently. Have you spoken to him?”

Molly bit her lip. “No,” she said. She felt bad about hanging up on Lombardi. Unlike Matt, who she’d already talked to four times over the last twelve hours, Lombardi hadn’t returned her phone calls or text messages. Which, she considered, might not be a bad thing. Most likely he would ream her out far worse than Boyle was doing.

“You had no way of knowing what you were walking into,” Boyle went on. “Dora could have been dangerous. We may yet prove that she is dangerous.”

“Can you connect her to Tiffany’s death?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But while I’m trying to make a case, I hope you’ve learned an important lesson. You must allow professionals, like myself and Detective Lombardi, to do our jobs. I know you have a special skill set, Molly. You have an easy way of talking to people and they open up to you. But we have skills, too. More importantly, we have the authority to arrest people.”

“Yes, sir,” she said sheepishly. “Can you tell me what will happen to Dora?”

“For the time being, she’s being charged with identity theft and fraud,” he said. “I’ve also had Giles taken into custody. He’s cooling his heels in a jail cell as we speak.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be interviewing him in about twenty minutes, but I doubt I’ll get much out of him. His mother’s hired a lawyer.” He looked at her. “You should know Dora is denying Tiffany ever blackmailed her and Giles.”

Molly was stunned. “What? That’s not what she told me.”

“She claims she went to Rimstock to think about her future with Giles, because she was angry at him for not standing up to Tiffany. She claims you tried to blackmail her.”

“She’s a liar,” Molly said. “I never demanded money. I swear to you, she told me Tiffany blackmailed her and Giles for two million dollars.”

He raised a hand. “I believe you, but as it’s her word against yours, it will be hard to prove. If you’d called me I could have set you up with a wire.”

Molly sat back in her chair. He was still reprimanding her, piling it on, and she knew she deserved it. Suddenly, she had a horrible thought. “Oh, my God. This is all my fault,” she said. “Dora wanted to know what Giles was saying about her leaving and, like an idiot, I told her. If Giles sticks to that story, you won’t be able to prove she left him for any other reason. I’ve put her on the same page.”

Boyle’s face softened a little. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said. “They’d probably planned it all out in advance. I don’t think you told her anything she didn’t already know.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I thought you’d like to know, I ran a check on Tiffany’s credit card receipts for the day of the murder. She didn’t go home after she left Channing Hall. She stopped for gas and groceries. I think that puts an end to the suicide theory. There doesn’t seem to be any point in gassing up a car she wasn’t going to drive.”

“What about the hemlock? Any luck matching it to the poison in her tea? And what about Alice? Did you find anything at the Bluebird Tearoom that points to her as the murderer?”

“We’re still analyzing the plant, looking for trace elements, such as fertilizer or pesticides similar to those used in your aunt’s garden. But we also found another hemlock plant along a hiking trail that starts at the edge of White Dove Cottage’s property line. It’s being analyzed as well, to see if there’s a match. Forensics is also looking at trace evidence from the cottage—fingerprints, documents collected, electronic devices. So far nothing. As for Alice, I questioned her and had her home searched from top to bottom, as well as the tearoom, but there were no signs of hemlock or anything else that points to her being involved in Tiffany’s death. I’ve got nothing.”

Molly blew out her breath. “This is so frustrating,” she said.

“An investigation like this takes time,” he said. “I’ll try to break down Giles when I interview him. If I can convince him Dora is going to confess and blame it all on him, he might cooperate.”

“What about Reggie?”

“He’s still missing, but I haven’t written him off,” he said. “I’m going through Giles’s financials, and Penelope Cassidy’s, to see if there’ve been any funds transferred to Reggie’s bank account. If he’s mixed up in Tiffany’s murder, it will come out eventually.” He pushed his chair back and they both stood. “I want to thank you for coming in so early,” he said. “I know you had a long night and must be tired, but I wanted to see you to personally thank you for your help.”

“Despite my not calling you?”

He nodded. “Despite that.”

“Then you’re welcome, I guess,” she said. “I don’t feel like I’ve done much. I helped you find an identity thief, but you still don’t have Tiffany’s killer.”

“You don’t know that,” he said. “Dora and/or Giles could be responsible for Tiffany’s murder, and if that turns out to be the case, I have them in custody thanks to you.” He gave her a small smile. “Now all I need to do is prove it.”

Chapter 29

By nine thirty, Molly was on the M40 driving back to Marlow Crossing. The sky overhead was blue, but as she drove north, gray clouds began to roll in over the hills. She was grateful traffic on the highway was light. She wasn’t sure how long it took the average person to feel comfortable driving on the “wrong” side of the road, but she wasn’t there yet. The less traffic to contend with, the better.

The drive gave her a chance to think about the events of the last week. In retrospect, Tiffany crashing the tea party did seem preplanned. She thought Dora was probably telling the truth about her using the party, with witnesses all around, to put pressure on her and Giles to pay up. If he’d refused, he would have risked her telling everyone in the room about a woman named Dora Lang.

Something else Dora said rang true to Molly. Everyone did feel sorry for Tiffany. Giles had cheated on her, lied to her, and broken up with her. He raked up mounting bills, lacked ambition, and didn’t stand up to his parents and marry her. Each scenario had him in the role of bad guy. He was definitely a louse, but Tiffany wasn’t entirely innocent. Kara had confirmed Giles’s dream to live in the countryside and own an antique shop. Tiffany refused to give up her career and leave London for that dream. It wasn’t until Giles broke up with her and moved away that she took him at his word. By then, of course, it was too late. He’d replaced her with Penelope, or Dora, but that didn’t stop her from following him to Marlow Crossing. What else had Kara told her? Tiffany had a big ego and was used to getting her way. It must have infuriated her that Giles wasn’t cooperating.

Molly sighed. She didn’t like Tiffany any more than she liked Giles. They were both greedy and selfish. But who killed her? Was it Dora, who admitted she was tired of being stalked? Did the blackmail threat push her over the edge? But she was street-savvy. She had to know running away would make her look guilty.

Who else? Dora told her Giles was going to get in touch with her. Why hadn’t he? Was he setting her up to look guilty and take the fall? Molly kind of liked that theory, but it didn’t hold up. Giles wouldn’t get anything out of it since they weren’t married yet. He didn’t have legal access to Penelope’s millions. If Dora was arrested for Tiffany’s murder, he could say good-bye to his cash cow.

And then there was Reggie. Molly couldn’t forget about him. If he wasn’t on a bender somewhere and totally wasted, what was he doing and where was he hiding? Did he kill Tiffany on his own, without any incentive other than his own desire to see her dead? She wondered if he was secretly in love with her. He was a man who didn’t seem to date, but maybe he’d gotten up the courage to ask her out, and when she said no, he couldn’t handle the rejection and killed her. Or could Giles have given him money to kill her? Reggie was struggling to make ends meet. A thousand dollars might have been enough to tempt him, and Giles would have saved himself and Dora a ton of cash.

Molly was so engrossed in her thoughts, she wasn’t paying attention to her driving. At the last second, she turned the wheel for the exit ramp to Marlow Crossing, thanking God and the entire universe there was no one else on the road around her. Taking a few calming breaths, she drove on, and a few miles later turned right onto Bishop’s Way. This was the scenic road that led to the village and went past Channing Hall. Seeing the manor house in the distance, her mind turned to Brenda. She didn’t like the woman, but she felt sorry for her. Her son was probably going to be charged with fraud, at the very least, and unless his lawyer could work a miracle, he was up to his ears in a big mess of his own creation. His life, and his mother’s, would never be the same.

Molly reached the village and turned onto the High Street. The flower shop had opened, with its autumn wreaths in the window, and the little trinket shop with its local handmade jewelry and scarfs. Sweet Delights came into view and she pulled up to the curb in front and parked. It was ten o’clock, and the morning baking had produced an aroma of baked breads and sweets that smelled heavenly. Molly purchased a box of assorted muffins and cookies to treat herself and her mother, and a small box of chocolate macaroons for Tessa, one of her favorite cookies.

As she got back into her car and snapped on her seat belt, she saw Brenda down the street opening the door of Bits & Pieces. She went in, and a moment later the lights snapped on. Molly felt a twinge of guilt. In a way, she was responsible for destroying her world. She’d exposed Dora as an impostor, and in consequence Giles had been arrested. What would Brenda do without him? Her husband was dead, and there was no one else to help her run her shop. She might have to offer Alice a full-time job.

Thinking about Alice made Molly pause. Boyle said he hadn’t found anything connecting her to Tiffany’s death, but she was more than a young woman who lacked social filters. Alice in her ratty hippie poncho had been holding a grudge against Tiffany since they were kids. Troy said she’d had a crush on Giles, and she’d blushed when asking about him at Bits & Pieces. Was she secretly in love with him? Did she knock off Tiffany, and have plans to go after Penelope next? She certainly had easy access to loose tea, specifically Tiffany’s favorite, Darjeeling, and it wouldn’t be hard to crush the hemlock and mix it in.

And what about Tiffany’s coworkers at Beauty Chic? Cecil admitted some of them resented Tiffany when she’d first arrived. What if one of the stylists hadn’t gotten over her being there, and killed her to get rid of the competition?

Frustrated she couldn’t answer her own questions, Molly drove past St. John’s Cemetery, thinking about the other hemlock plant the police had found. The trailhead was at the edge of White Dove’s property, and Molly knew exactly where it began. As she reached the bottom of the hill, right before the road curved, she saw a cut-through in the woods. The shoulder was narrow but there was enough room to park the car. She switched off the engine, remembering that Tessa had told her about this trail, that it was popular with birders and day hikers, and how it came out near Channing Hall. She wondered how long it would take to get there, and decided to go for a walk. Locking her purse in the trunk, she pocketed the keys and headed off into the woods.

Chapter 30

The trail was in good shape, the ground dirt-packed and dry. If it rained, it would probably turn into mud. Molly looked out for signs along the way that a plant had been dug up, but she didn’t see any gaping holes in the earth. She had no idea where the police had found the hemlock, or what had inspired them to check that part of the woods. Perhaps it was the direct access between Channing Hall and White Dove Cottage.