Murder at Blackwater Manor (7 page)

“…know that I only come in and out, so I couldn’t really hear if there was any fight at dinner,” Cecile was saying. “Plus, the missus had ordered so much food last night, I barely managed to get everything out in time. The pumpkin pie was definitely not my best to date.”

“So, who was there?” asked the woman sitting in the middle hairdresser’s chair, who’d had her hair dyed and was now waiting for the dye to process.

“The family, of course, creepy James Blackwater, that sleazy Anabelle and her grandfather of a husband, and Primrose and her sister.”

Sage cringed, but it seemed like Cecile hadn’t even remembered her face, because she didn’t pause and went right on.

“Did you have to give fingerprints at the station?” the friend asked.

“Oh, yes,” Cecile said with authority, “It was just like in a crime show, I’m telling you. They gave me coffee and recorded my version of things and all that.”

“That’s so exciting!” the friend said, obviously impressed with the maid’s fancy life. “So, what did you tell them? Do you have any idea who did it?”

Cecile lowered her voice to a loud whisper and Sage was forced to shuffle in her seat to hear her better among the clamor in the room.

“I think I do, and I told them as much,” she said mysteriously. “Of course, all this is
classified information
, and I can’t really
disclose
my suspicions, but I can tell you for sure that it wasn’t me.”

Sage stifled a snort. Cecile seemed to really believe she was at the heart of a really exciting adventure and that she was in one of the main roles for once, not simply standing on the side and serving those at the main stage.

“Oh, I’m so glad,” the friend exhaled in relief as if she’d really believed Cecile could confess to murder in a beauty salon. “But what did you tell them? Did you see or hear anything?”

“Not much, but sheriff Greene assured me it was more than helpful for the investigation, and that I’ve really given him food for thought.”

“Come on, tell me,” the friend whined and Sage thought,
Yeah, say something useful already
, “I swear I won’t go spreading it.”

Cecile glanced around and her tiny mousy eyes landed on Sage, who managed to remain composed and slowly reached for a magazine.

1,000 Wedding Hairstyles to Kill For
.

Wow, what a fitting title
, Sage thought and started casually flipping through the pages of glowing brides. That seemed convincing enough for Cecile who turned back to her friend.

“I have no idea what they were all doing, because as soon as I served desert at around 10:30, I got started with the washing up and kept doing that till at least 11:15. I told the sheriff as much. The only interesting things that happened during that time were that I heard the front door open once at around eleven, and then again maybe five or ten minutes later. I couldn’t see who went out and back in though. Oh, and another thing. Around eleven, right after someone went out the front door, Mr. Bluebird came in the kitchen to check if his wife was with me, which she wasn’t of course, so it must have been her that went out, but he didn’t stay, so I assume he went back to the game room.”

“Then,” she went on, “almost immediately after the front door closed the second time, Mrs. Blackwater came in to see if I was done with the dishes. Seeing that I wasn’t, she started fixing her husband a cup of tea. She said she was taking it upstairs to him when she left the kitchen and almost immediately after that I heard her screaming upstairs. I knew something was terribly wrong, so I ran out and saw everyone climbing the steps, so I went along with them.”

Sage had placed the small notebook inside the bridal magazine and was writing down Cecile’s words as fast as she could. She only wished she could ask the maid a few burning questions she had based on what she’d just heard, but of course she couldn’t.

“Miss Fields?” someone called and Sage almost jumped in her seat. “Sage Fields?”

“Yes, that’s me,” Sage said, sitting up.

“I’m ready for you now.”

Sage stuffed the notebook and pencil in her tote bag and carried it off to the chair closest to the front window.

“What can I do for you today?” the cheerful hairdresser said, pulling the elastic off her ponytail, letting her black hair fall down almost to her waist.

“I’m not really sure,” Sage admitted. She hadn’t even thought about her hair before now.

“You’ve got a beautiful mane here. Lots to work with,” the hairdresser smiled, “How about I surprise you?”

“Okay,” Sage said, though the suggestion sounded horrifying, “Just let it be a gentle surprise. Nothing too drastic, okay?”

“Sure,” the girl winked, “You can trust me.”

CHAPTER TEN

Baby Breath and a Story from the Past

“What on Earth?!” Prim’s jaw dropped as she saw her sister walk in through the flower shop’s door.

“Don’t say a thing,” Sage said, raising her flat palm in Prim’s face. “I won’t hear it. It’s the people in this town, Prim. What’s the matter with them that they don’t understand proper English? I said
nothing drastic
.”

Primrose burst into laughter, bending over and pressing her stomach with a hand. Sage stood still, frowning, waiting for her sister’s fit to pass.

“I even paid money for this,” she said, her voice full of desperation.

“It’s… Oh, it is
divine
, Sage,” Prim managed to say in between her laughing convulsions.

Sage hadn’t had short hair… ever. Now her long ponytail was chopped off and in its place she sported a short bob that made her look like a Japanese doll.

“I look like a boy!”

“No, you don’t,” Prim said gently, fluffing her sister’s bowl-cut on the back of her head. Then another round of giggles erupted and it was a while before she calmed down. “You look classy. And just in time for your date, too.”

“What? Seriously?” Sage moaned, “It was you who gave him my number? I don’t think this day can get any worse. To be honest, I’d completely forgotten about tonight.”

“Don’t be mad,” Prim said, “Dan is a nice guy. I couldn’t turn him down when he asked for the number. I thought you liked him too…”

“You did? Based on what?”

“Based on that you are both so good-looking and genuinely sweet people and that I’d love to be an auntie to your thousand babies. There’s no reason why you two wouldn’t have a good time tonight.”

“Well, thanks for your little matchmaking scheme, but as of half an hour ago, I’m no longer eligible for the good-looking category.”

“Shut up, Sage,” Prim said, “I swear it’s not that bad.”

“How long do you think it would take to grow it back to normal? Like a decade?”

“I refuse to indulge your self-pity, Sage,” Prim said, “You better tell me where you were all day and what you managed to find out, because I might have a piece of information or two for you.”

“Really? And here I was, thinking you were happily cutting off rosebuds and sweeping petals from the floor. Admit it, you want to solve this just as much as I do!”

“I wouldn’t say
as much
,” Prim said demurely, “But I admit it keeps bugging me that we were there and we practically missed a murder that happened right under our noses.”

“Fantastic!” Sage said and clapped her hands. It was all she needed to forget about her unfortunate new look. “What did you find out?”

“Not so fast. Here, help me spray-paint these baby breath sprays. I have an annoying customer who wants them purple and orange. Not the best combination, if you ask me.”

Prim handed her sister a paper gown like the ones you found in hospitals and a pair of plastic goggles and when both of them were dressed up, they started shaking a can of spray paint each. Prim had placed old newspapers on the floor and saran-wrapped the buckets of baby breath, so they wouldn’t get the garish colors on anything else but the tiny white flowers.

As they were spraying sprig after sprig, Sage used the moment to update her sister on everything that she’d learned so far, starting with Anabelle Bluebird, moving on to James Blackwater and finally recounting Cecile’s version of last night’s events.

“Wait,” Prim said, sitting back on her heels and resting the spray can on her knee, “So, if the maid and Anabelle could be trusted, it wasn’t at all like we pictured it. I thought we were the only ones gone from the game room after eleven and before we heard the scream. Now it looks like everyone was walking about, going outside or poking into the kitchen.”

“I know, everyone except for James Blackwater. At some point he might have even been left by himself in the game room. Just think about it. Anabelle was getting fresh air—highly suspicious if you ask me.”

“I know. And then her husband, Mr. Bluebird, was looking for her in the kitchen,” Prim added.

“And Mrs. Blackwater went to the kitchen as well to make tea for her husband.”

“This is all so confusing,” Prim sighed. “I wish we could talk to James and see what he has to say.”

“Well, Ben probably did already.”

“You don’t think we should talk to Ben, do you? He might get upset.”

“This is not like last time, Prim. It’s only natural for us to be curious about what happened the night we almost witnessed a murder.”

“And almost got accused of it,” Prim said, “Yeah, you are right. Let’s talk to Ben tonight.”

“After my date you mean? Good idea. That will be my escape strategy if things get awkward.”

“I don’t understand why you keep expecting the worst from people. Don’t tell me you don’t like Dan at least a tiny little bit.”

“What was your bit of information?” Sage asked, glad she could change the topic and hide her embarrassment at the unexpected question.

“Oh, right,” Prim said and resumed spraying the baby breath before her. “Well, you know I wanted Mrs. Blackwater as a client so badly. Only I didn’t expect she’d really become my client and the occasion won’t be yet another antiques auction, but her husband’s funeral.”

“Uh-huh,” Sage said, finally removing her goggles and inspecting the result of her work. There wasn’t a single white flower left in her bucket. They were all a vibrant purple that could poke her eye out. Prim was right. The tiny white flowers now looked fake and ridiculous, but the client was always right. “Wait!”

She got up and carried her bucket over to the cooler. It occurred to her that being a florist wasn’t a job for just anyone. It required actual daily physical labor and you needed to be quite fit to manage. Though her sister was anything but buff, with her soft curves and a picture-perfect hourglass figure, she must have quite the stamina underneath her frilly dresses and shirts. Seeing that housework and gardening had been Prim’s only workout prior to opening the shop, Sage realized just how much muscle was required to keep a clean home and a lush garden.

When she returned, Prim was already done herself.

“Time for a break,” she panted as she hauled up the bucket and carried it off to the back. “How about I fix us a cup of tea and we drink it outside. I think I’ve ingested enough spray paint for one day.”

“Just what I was thinking. I hope your other flowers won’t be too mad we’ve practically suffocated them with all these chemicals.”

Sage stepped outside and settled at the small table in front of the store to wait for Prim. It felt nice to breathe in the fragrant afternoon air. The day had started to grow considerably shorter and though it was just after seven o’clock, it was already dark and chilly.

Main Street was bathed in the warm yellow lights of the street lamps, combined with the colorful glow of all the small storefronts. People were already closing up their shops and the sound of shutters being pulled down could be heard in the distance. Rosecliff residents were hurrying past Sage, clutching bags of groceries, eager to get to the comfort and warmth of their homes.

Sage thought that there wouldn’t be much for dinner again, but then she remembered her date. She’d be having dinner in a restaurant and she had less than an hour to get ready. After she’d woken up so late in the morning, it seemed like the day had passed by in the blink of an eye and yet, so much had happened already, she could hardly place it together in her head.

Prim came out with a small tray. She set down two cups of herbal tea and a paper plate of cookies.

“Secret leftovers from this morning,” she explained in response to Sage’s questioning look.

The two of them were so hungry, they immediately got started on the little feast that lay before them.

“So? What did you learn?” Sage asked in between bites of a white chocolate and macadamia cookie.

“So, you know how Cathy and I always work together for funerals around here?”

Sage nodded, chewing enthusiastically.

“It wasn’t a surprise that Thea asked me to do the funeral decorations. Cathy came over this afternoon to discuss the details, because I need to run things by her as well, and she told me a very interesting story about Mr. Bluebird and Mr. Blackwater.”