Read Trash To Treasure Crafting 1 - Murder at Honeysuckle Hotel Online

Authors: Rose Pressey

Tags: #Mystery, #rose pressey, #crafting mystery, #amateur sleuth, #cozy mystery, #women sleuth, #mysteries

Trash To Treasure Crafting 1 - Murder at Honeysuckle Hotel (3 page)

BOOK: Trash To Treasure Crafting 1 - Murder at Honeysuckle Hotel
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The walk from Honeysuckle Supermarket to the
old Victorian house was a short one, but I took my time meandering
down the sidewalk, like a kid skipping home from school on a spring
day. The weather was still humid, but in spite of the heat, I
didn’t mind the walk. Soon I’d see my new home—up close and
personal.

Since my ex-husband left, I had rented a tiny
room in Adele Wilkins’ house. The nicest thing I could say about
the room was that it provided a roof over my head. It was a few
blocks in the opposite direction. It saved on gas money that I
could walk to work.

Mrs. McCarthy waved at us as she exited the
bank across the street. I was pretty sure she was waving at Claire
Ann and not me. Her gray hair formed a neat helmet shape around her
head. Her blue dress with pink flowers looked homemade from a
1940’s Butterick pattern. The population in Honeysuckle, Kentucky
barely broke the three-thousand mark. No way to hide many details
of your life in a town that size. That was why I wasn’t surprised
by the frowns that greeted me as I made my way down the main artery
of town. Mrs. Barnes and Mrs. Wallace whispered after passing us.
The words “husband left her” floated to my ears.

Claire Ann tried to hurry me along. “Would
you please hurry? I can’t stand the suspense.” She motioned for me
to speed up.

“My legs are moving as fast as they can. I’m
only five feet two, you know. My legs are short.”

I avoided the cracks in the pavement and
enjoyed the flowers the Honeysuckle Women’s Club had placed in
various planters at the beginning of summer. Geraniums were my
favorite.

A few fluffy clouds dotted the sky and the
sun shone, blanketing the area in brightness. The main part of town
consisted of a bank, post office, grocery store, restaurant, and
gas station. About twenty miles away was Belleville. They had a
Wal-Mart and various fast-food joints. I wasn’t sure how I got
stuck in Honeysuckle and why I continued to stay. Wait. I knew why,
I didn’t have the money to leave and Ross Perkins had persuaded me
to marry him with his smooth talk. I’d always planned on saving up
enough money and moving to a bigger city with more opportunities.
But now…

“You’re getting some looks now,” Claire Ann
whispered.

“Yeah, like I wasn’t talked about enough?
You’d think a husband never ran off and left his wife. To top it
off, now I’m an heiress.”

Claire Ann laughed. “Let them talk. They have
nothing else. Besides, once the county fair rolls into town, they
can talk about the carnies.”

“I guess.” I sighed.

The old house sat at the corner of Main
Street and Summer Drive. We made our way down the sidewalk, cutting
across the church parking lot to avoid talking to old Mrs. Benton,
then back out to the road and the corner of Summer Drive. The
historic house loomed tall, sitting up at the top of a slight hill.
It was an imposing old Victorian painted in a pale shade of yellow
with white trim.

The home looked romantic and feminine, yet
strong as it towered over the others. A black iron fence surrounded
the front yard. I liked the muted color of the house, and
thankfully it didn’t appear to be in need of a paint job yet. Maybe
by the time it did, I’d have figured out a way to pay for it. The
front porch wrapped all the way around the house and each corner
had decorative gables. I envisioned throwing grand parties on a
warm summer evening with my guests spilling out from the house and
onto the porch. However, the likelihood of that ever becoming a
reality was slim to none. Maybe Claire Ann could invite some
people.

In spite of my happiness over the exterior,
my stomach churned when I thought of the interior. Inside might be
horrible for all I knew. My body twitched with anticipation. How
did I get myself into this mess? I couldn’t decide if it was a
blessing or curse. Why did I let Ross talk me into moving to this
little town, anyway? There were no jobs here. My degree in
journalism wouldn’t get me anywhere. I’d looked into teaching here,
but with no luck.

Claire Ann and I stood in front of the home,
gazing up at all its glory. We didn’t speak for what seemed like
forever. White fluffy clouds drifted against the bright blue
background as if in slow motion. My heart thumped with
excitement.

“Come on, let’s take a look.” Claire Ann
gestured with a wave.

We walked around to the little gate and I
whispered, “I love how the wrought-iron fence encases the entire
yard.”

“Why are you whispering?” she asked.

“I have no idea.” I chuckled. “I feel as if
I’m breaking into someone’s home.”

I opened the gate and waved Claire Ann
through. We shuffled along a path flanked with dead-daffodils
toward the porch. The house looked lonely, almost sad, as if it
waited for someone to keep it company. Claire Ann bounced up the
front steps. She hadn’t seen this much excitement since Honeysuckle
Supermarket started selling Cherry Diet Dr. Pepper. I stopped to
smell the rose bush beside the front step. So maybe I was stalling.
I wanted to see the house, honest, but I was nervous at the same
time.

The floor creaked under my feet and I kicked
the fallen leaves left over from last year out of the way. I cupped
my hands around my eyes and peered through the window, trying to
catch a glimpse of the interior.

I pulled the key from the front pocket of my
shorts. “You ready?”

“Yeah, yeah. Open the door,” she urged.

I knocked on the door. Claire Ann poked my
side with her finger.

“Nobody’s home, remember? It’s your home
now.”

“Right, right. Yeah, I know.” I nodded.

Colorful leaded glass twinkled above the
intricately carved door. I jammed the key in the lock and turned
the knob.

“Hello?” I called.

Claire Ann jabbed me in the ribs with her
elbow.

“Ouch.” I rubbed my side. “Why did you do
that? And if you do it again I’m going to hit you upside the head
with my purse.”

“The woman is dead. Do you really think she’s
going to answer you? There’s no one home. Let’s go in.” She brushed
past me and entered the foyer.

I closed the door behind me while butterflies
danced away in my stomach. The house was beautiful… and all
mine.

Chapter Four

Carved wood, high ceilings and enormous rooms
greeted us. I’d seen houses like this one in magazines, but never
had I imagined that I would own one. The smell of furniture polish
and old books tickled my nose.

“There could be squatters or something,” I
whispered.

“Well, why don’t you make them tea and
crumpets?” She smirked. “No one is here, for heaven’s sakes. You
worry too much.”

“Aren’t you being sassy today? Getting a
little extra attention from Bob?” I winked.

She stuck her tongue out. “You know I’m not
seeing him anymore. We’re not to discuss him.” She gazed around the
space. “Wow. This place is big.”

“Fine, we won’t talk about him. But stop
being so sassy,” I warned with my index finger.

We stood in the entrance taking in the
surroundings. The foyer had a coffered ceiling and the staircase
sat in the middle of the room with an elaborately carved banister.
In front of the stairs, the hardwood floor had an inlay design. The
high-ceilinged hall led into the parlor.

Claire Ann moved into the room. “The
furniture is, um, different.”

I followed her. “It is a bit dated, huh?” I
touched the sofa and coughed when dust circled upward and smacked
me in the face.

Its orange velvet next to the black leather
recliner made the room appear as if it was ready for Halloween
festivities. Most of the furniture was worn, but some of the
vintage collectibles had my mind decorating already. The wall to
our left had well-crafted floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, but they
weren’t filled with books. Instead, every shelf held a different
knickknack. I loved Victorian homes, but I’d never liked the
furnishings that came with them. The hard part would be to keep the
home’s charm, but make it modern as well—a mix of the two. The
parlor was the first room people saw when they entered—a good place
to start. The knickknacks would have to go.

I pointed at the shelf in front of us. “Those
dolls are creepy. I think they’re watching us. Look at that one
with the wild hair and crazy eyes.”

“Better get rid of them before you find them
in your room at night, staring at you.”

I snorted.

Vases with fake flowers collected dust and
baskets full of yarn overflowed on the bottom shelves.

“I think she kept everything she ever owned.
How old was she?” Claire Ann asked.

“Ninety-two, I think.” I tucked a strand of
hair behind my ear and let out a deep breath.

The entire room was full of so much
bric-à-brac that it was hard to pay attention to the intricate
details throughout. The dark red walls seemed a little too horror
movie-ish. The high ceilings and the large baseboards went
unnoticed. A fireplace with a gorgeous mantel was flanked by the
bookshelves, but the best part of the room was the stunning crystal
chandelier.

The sun shone through the windows, splashing
across the crystals, making a sparkling design along the hardwood
floor. The curved front wall had three windows with a seat tucked
beneath overlooking the front porch. Pocket doors led into the
dining room. The plaster walls were in surprisingly good shape. A
few patches here and there would do the trick. Claire Ann moved
into the next room, but I was almost afraid to go any further.

“Where’s the table?” she asked.

I shrugged “How should I know?” When I looked
over my shoulder, I spotted TV trays next to the sofa in the
parlor. “Looks as if they ate in front of their favorite programs,
so I guess they didn’t need a table.”

There were eight wooden high-backed chairs,
though—all grouped together in the right corner. The cheery yellow
walls were much better than the red in the parlor. I liked the
color, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right choice for the room,
or at least not the color I would have chosen. Down the hall was a
small bathroom, then the kitchen.

“Wow, those appliances look new.” Claire Ann
ran her finger along the stovetop.

“Yeah, they do. I was expecting
avocado-colored ones. The countertop is dated, but I love the old
porcelain farm sink.” I walked the length of the room. “The room is
huge, though.”

“I love the breakfast area.” Claire Ann
pointed out the window. “You can see the rose bushes over
here.”

I opened a little door at the back of the
kitchen. “Look, there’s a staircase. I thought it was a
closet.”

Claire Ann poked her head through the cracked
door. “I bet it was for the servants.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“Come on. Let’s check out the main bedroom.”
Claire Ann bounced past me.

I followed her down the hall and into the
room.

“I like it,” she said, crossing her arms in
front of her chest and nodding her head.

“Me, too.” Our voices echoed across the
room.

“Do you think she slept in this room? It’s so
big.”

“I imagine she did. I doubt she climbed the
stairs every night.”

“Good point.” Claire Ann paced the length of
the floor. “Did she die in here?” she whispered.

“She’s dead, remember? She can’t hear you.
No, I think she was in the hospital in Belleville.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.” Claire Ann
shivered.

I frowned. “That’s good?”

She continued pacing. “I mean, not that she
died, just that she didn’t do it here.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can just imagine all the
things you could do with this room.”

A queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the
room. Windows flanked the sides with views into the back yard.
There was another fireplace in the room. It also had a mantel with
intricate details of little flowers and scrolls.

After examining the bedroom, we checked the
upstairs. At the top of the stairs, the large landing opened into
the hall. There were three more bedrooms and a full bathroom—all
with hardwood floors and lots of light. The house gave off a good
vibe. I felt the past lives in every room. I wasn’t talking about
ghosts, per se, but the previous owner’s energy, as if I knew there
had been many happy days spent behind these walls.

When Mrs. Mathers left me the place, she knew
the house would live on with my care. It had a life of its own, and
only needed someone around to take care of it once in a while.

Next, we traveled back down the stairs and
out to the back porch. Just when I thought I couldn’t love the
house any more, I saw it. The lush backyard was filled with
flowering trees and numerous perennials—too many to count. Redbud
and dogwood trees, crepe myrtle, hydrangeas, peonies, rose bushes,
and daylilies I spotted right away. A brick-paved walkway led to a
gazebo at the edge of the yard. It reminded me of a mini-park. And
this was all mine? Was someone playing a lousy trick on me? I had
never been this lucky.

After a minute of gawking at the yard, we
trailed back inside to the living room.

“I still don’t know how I’ll afford this
place. Maybe I can get a job in Belleville.” I ran my finger across
the top of the little dust-covered table in the corner of the room.
“Not sure if there’s any place hiring. Hey, are you listening to
me?”

Claire Ann moved away from the window where
she’d appeared to be lost in thought. She plopped down on the
velvety sofa, releasing dust motes into the air. “I’ve got an
idea.” She clicked her tongue.

Chapter Five

My face felt as if it drooped like a melting
candle. “Oh, no. I told you I have no desire to work at The Booby
Patch.” I wiggled my index finger at her.

She tossed a pillow at me and I ducked. “Shut
up!” She picked at the fringe on the remaining toss pillow. “Why
don’t you run this place as a hotel? Kind of like a
bed-and-breakfast, but without the breakfast. ’Cause we all know
you suck at cooking.”

BOOK: Trash To Treasure Crafting 1 - Murder at Honeysuckle Hotel
12.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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