you here. Use back door. Don’t be seen.”
He’s always warning me not to get involved, andnow he needs me? Interesting.
Olivia texted back that she had brought her key to the mansion and could let herself in the alley door. As she edged away from the group, she saw Cody answer his cell, glance in her direction, and nod once. He parked his tall, lanky frame on a tree stump and announced that he had information about Hermione’s recovery from her faint.
While Cody held everyone’s attention, Olivia sauntered south, as if she were returning to the store. Once she was out of sight, she circled around the block to the mansion’s back door. She half expected to see Binnie waiting for her, but the alley was empty when she slid her key into the lock. Del entered the kitchen as Olivia locked the door behind her. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Prepare yourself,” Del said. “Hermione is conscious, but she’s hysterical and incoherent. That’s why you’re here, because Hermione trusts you. If you can, get her to calm down and explain what happened.”
“What happened…?” Olivia’s peripheral vision registered the chaotic state of the kitchen. Someone had removed all the antique pans and cooking utensils from the cupboards, originally set up as museum display areas, and dumped them on the floor. She followed Del into the mansion’s formal dining room, which had suffered the same fate. Silverware lay in heaps on the newly scratched surface of a walnut table inlaid with rosewood. The leaded glass doors of the built-in cabinets all hung open, revealing empty shelves. Olivia cringed at the sight of precious nineteenth-century dishware, some broken or cracked, piled in careless heaps on the dining room rug. The rug itself, hand hooked in the early 1800s, depicted a variety of green leaves and blue flowers that reminded Olivia ofcookie-cutter shapes. Now china chards pierced the delicate two-hundred-year-old fabric.
“Who could have done this?” Olivia remembered her conversation with Hermione about her husband’s state of mind. “Did Paine have some sort of breakdown?”
“Possibly, but we’ll never hear about it from him. Paine is dead,” Del said, his expression grim. “Watch it.” He reached out to steady Olivia as she nearly stepped on a broken plate.
“Del, are you saying Paine might have killed himself?”
“Right now I have no idea. I’ve called the crime scene unit. We’ll know more once they’ve done their work, and the autopsy should help, too. Paine’s death might have been an accident, though the state of this house makes me suspicious.”
“You mean…
murder
?”
Del shrugged. “Could be an accident or suicide, I don’t know. Looks like he drowned in the bathtub.” He took Olivia’s hand and led her around a mound of silverware. “We’d better get upstairs. Do I need to remind you not to mention any of this to anyone?”
“You just did.” Olivia reclaimed her hand.
Del shot her a quick look but otherwise didn’t react. “I’ve shut Hermione in her own bedroom. I don’t want her disturbing the scene any more than she already has. If you can get anything helpful out of her, I’d really appreciate it.”
Olivia decided to forgive him. They’d had more than one talk recently about her role in solving previous crimes. Del was trying to control his protective tendencies, and she’d been making a genuine attempt to stay away from murder scenes. If this was indeed a murder scene, Oliviawas here now only because Del had asked her. And he knew it. Olivia indulged in a moment of smugness.
She followed Del through the house, weaving to avoid random piles on the floor. She wondered what it would be like to move into a museum. Maybe Hermione was simply emptying cupboards and closets to make space for the couple’s belongings once they were delivered. That would explain the disarray. The broken plates and scratched furniture were another matter. Most of them had been owned
He’s always warning me not to get involved, andnow he needs me? Interesting.
Olivia texted back that she had brought her key to the mansion and could let herself in the alley door. As she edged away from the group, she saw Cody answer his cell, glance in her direction, and nod once. He parked his tall, lanky frame on a tree stump and announced that he had information about Hermione’s recovery from her faint.
While Cody held everyone’s attention, Olivia sauntered south, as if she were returning to the store. Once she was out of sight, she circled around the block to the mansion’s back door. She half expected to see Binnie waiting for her, but the alley was empty when she slid her key into the lock. Del entered the kitchen as Olivia locked the door behind her. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Prepare yourself,” Del said. “Hermione is conscious, but she’s hysterical and incoherent. That’s why you’re here, because Hermione trusts you. If you can, get her to calm down and explain what happened.”
“What happened…?” Olivia’s peripheral vision registered the chaotic state of the kitchen. Someone had removed all the antique pans and cooking utensils from the cupboards, originally set up as museum display areas, and dumped them on the floor. She followed Del into the mansion’s formal dining room, which had suffered the same fate. Silverware lay in heaps on the newly scratched surface of a walnut table inlaid with rosewood. The leaded glass doors of the built-in cabinets all hung open, revealing empty shelves. Olivia cringed at the sight of precious nineteenth-century dishware, some broken or cracked, piled in careless heaps on the dining room rug. The rug itself, hand hooked in the early 1800s, depicted a variety of green leaves and blue flowers that reminded Olivia ofcookie-cutter shapes. Now china chards pierced the delicate two-hundred-year-old fabric.
“Who could have done this?” Olivia remembered her conversation with Hermione about her husband’s state of mind. “Did Paine have some sort of breakdown?”
“Possibly, but we’ll never hear about it from him. Paine is dead,” Del said, his expression grim. “Watch it.” He reached out to steady Olivia as she nearly stepped on a broken plate.
“Del, are you saying Paine might have killed himself?”
“Right now I have no idea. I’ve called the crime scene unit. We’ll know more once they’ve done their work, and the autopsy should help, too. Paine’s death might have been an accident, though the state of this house makes me suspicious.”
“You mean…
murder
?”
Del shrugged. “Could be an accident or suicide, I don’t know. Looks like he drowned in the bathtub.” He took Olivia’s hand and led her around a mound of silverware. “We’d better get upstairs. Do I need to remind you not to mention any of this to anyone?”
“You just did.” Olivia reclaimed her hand.
Del shot her a quick look but otherwise didn’t react. “I’ve shut Hermione in her own bedroom. I don’t want her disturbing the scene any more than she already has. If you can get anything helpful out of her, I’d really appreciate it.”
Olivia decided to forgive him. They’d had more than one talk recently about her role in solving previous crimes. Del was trying to control his protective tendencies, and she’d been making a genuine attempt to stay away from murder scenes. If this was indeed a murder scene, Oliviawas here now only because Del had asked her. And he knew it. Olivia indulged in a moment of smugness.
She followed Del through the house, weaving to avoid random piles on the floor. She wondered what it would be like to move into a museum. Maybe Hermione was simply emptying cupboards and closets to make space for the couple’s belongings once they were delivered. That would explain the disarray. The broken plates and scratched furniture were another matter. Most of them had been owned
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