She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a terry cloth robe and went to her room to pick out the outfit of the day. This wasn’t easy. She wanted to look nice for her visit with Mrs. Martinson, but tough enough to deal with the temperamental Dr. Gavrik. In the end, Sunny went with flats, a pair of charcoal gray slacks, and an off-white top.
“When I get home, I’ll change into something more suitable for O’Dowd’s,” she muttered. “Something that can stand up to splinters and won’t show beer spills.”
She’d just finished wrestling with her hair and putting on some makeup when the phone rang. It was Will Price, calling to tell her he’d secured them a lunch appointment with Dr. Gavrik for twelve thirty. “Should I pick you up around noon?”
“Sure, but I’ll be over at Mrs. Martinson’s house, so pick me up there,” Sunny told him. “See you then.”
She hung up and went downstairs.
Shadow perked up and ambled over when he saw Sunny leaving some supplies for him. She gently massaged his fur, then washed her hands and was on her way.
It was a pleasure to be outdoors today, now that the soggy, enervating weather had moved on. As she walked the few blocks, Sunny saw a number of people coming out to take care of deferred garden business, like mowing grass. Mike put his own gardening efforts into cultivating the rosebushes Sunny’s mom had planted years ago, but tended to neglect the lawn. As she arrived at the Martinson house, Sunny saw that Mrs. M.’s butterfly bushes were in bloom, bringing blue blossoms and a sweet scent to the air.
She rang the doorbell and heard excited barking inside.
When Helena Martinson answered the door, she had one hand on Toby’s collar. “Come on inside, dear,” Mike’s lady friend said. “Is the kitchen all right?”
“It’s fine.” Sunny stepped carefully as Toby romped around her feet. “No lack of energy in the little guy, is there?”
Helena got Sunny established at a little table right beside the kitchen window and set out two mugs of coffee and, of course, two pieces of her famous coffee cake.
Toby went to his water bowl and began noisily drinking.
“We just got back from emptying him, and here he is, loading up again.” The older woman gave Sunny a wry smile. “There are a lot of things about owning a dog that they don’t tell you.”
“You’re not regretting your adoption, are you?” Sunny asked.
“Of course not. You’re good company, aren’t you, Toby?”
Toby came over to rest his muzzle on Helena’s knee—and leave a wet spot on her tan trousers.
Sunny raised a forkful of cake to her mouth and followed it with a sip of coffee. “Delicious, as usual.” She looked at Helena expectantly. “So, tell me—what did you find out about Alfred Scatterwell?”
“As you know, I wasn’t very fond of Gardner because of what he tried to do to me—in this very kitchen, as a matter of fact.” Helena’s eyes seemed to skitter around her spotless kitchen. Sunny had never seen her so reluctant to share gossip; she tried to encourage her with a little humor.
“I know Gardner was a bit of a dog,” Sunny said. “Dad started to remember that, when the surprise and the initial reunion feeling began to wear off. First he remembered the good times. After all, it was thanks to that band he had with Gardner that Dad met my mother.” She laughed. “Of course, the band broke up after Gardner tried to get between my dad and mom, but that only hit Dad later. Speaking of hitting, did I mention that Dad punched Gardner in the nose?”
“Yes,” Helena replied, but it seemed as though she wasn’t really following what Sunny was saying. Her expression was distant, as if she were resolving something in her mind.
“So what’s the problem? Did Alfred turn out to be a dog, too? Like uncle, like nephew?”
“No.” Mrs. Martinson looked closely at Sunny. “What did you think of Gardner? How did he treat you?”
“At first, I thought he was funny and charming—a real life of the party. But the longer I stayed around him, the more I saw of his less nice side.”
Helena nodded. “But how did he treat you?”
“He was very buddy-buddy,” Sunny replied. “Complimentary. He wanted me to push his wheelchair—said it was the only way to get pretty girls around him.”
“Only Gardner would try to turn a disability into a come-on,” Mrs. M. said sourly. She looked carefully at Sunny. “But there was nothing else?”
“Helena, come on,” Sunny burst out. “The best he could do was pull the nice old man act. I’ve got to be—what? Half his age?” She stopped for a second, thinking, And I didn’t have to depend on him for a job, like Elsa Hogue. Maybe I was lucky.
“That hasn’t stopped him in the past.” Helena looked deeply into her coffee cup. “Most anyone who encounters Gardner hears something about his travels, and I expect you can guess why he had to leave Piney Brook sometimes. But he came back about ten years ago when Alfred was planning to get married. The only problem is, during the engagement party, Alfred stumbled over his fiancée and his uncle—literally.” She pursed her lips. “Let’s just say that Gardner got a lot farther with that girl than he ever did with me.”
“Yikes!” Sunny stared. “What happened?”
“Gardner got out of town, and Alfred got his ring back,” Helena responded. “I’m told that they didn’t speak for years.”
“And yet, when Gardner got sick, Alfred was over at Bridgewater Hall all the time.” Sunny spoke slowly. “I thought he was just keeping tabs on his uncle. But maybe he was watching him more like a vulture. No wonder Gardner kept giving him crap about being the all-purpose heir.”
“As the only close relative, Alfred was certainly in an interesting position.”
“Yeah, really interesting.” Sunny scowled. “Alfred had to toe the line pretty carefully if he wanted to be close enough to enjoy watching his uncle going downhill, but not annoy the old man enough to get disinherited.”
That could explain why Alfred turned a blind eye to Gardner’s harassment of Elsa, Sunny thought. He had bigger fish to fry.
“Will always says the two strongest motives for murder and mayhem are love and money,” she said almost to herself. “Alfred has both—disappointed love and the Scatterwell inheritance.”
Sunny bit her lip as counterarguments zinged around her brain. But if Alfred had been waiting on his revenge for almost a decade, why would he suddenly push it? I only knew Gardner for a little while, but it certainly didn’t look as though he was improving. Why would Alfred suddenly lose patience? Why couldn’t he just wait a little longer?
Aloud, she said, “Thanks for digging up this dirt, Helena. Knowing Gardner as you did, it must have been distasteful.”
“It was interesting,” Mrs. M. replied, “if somewhat seedy.” She might have been about to say more, but a crash came from the living room. “Toby!” she called, then shot an embarrassed smile at Sunny. “Looks like the start of another adventure in dog owning.”
Sunny followed her host into the living room, where Toby lay whining under the coffee table, peering out at the pieces of a broken vase on the floor. Sunny decided it would probably be best for her to wait for Will outside, so she made a quick good-bye and left Helena to deal with the latest disaster.
When Will arrived, Sunny whistled at his outfit. He was all in black—Henley shirt, jeans, and a jean jacket.
“You look as though you should be riding a motorcycle,” she told him.
“Good,” he replied, “then I should fit in over at O’Dowd’s later.” Raising his sunglasses, he took in her outfit. “Which is more than I can say for you, missy.”
She made a face. “I’m going to change later. We can’t both go to Dr. Gavrik looking like we intend to beat the truth out of her.”
“So while I menace the good doctor, I suppose you can appeal to her softer side.”
“That’ll be like appealing to the softer side of a rock,” Sunny muttered as she climbed aboard.