Stabbed In The Solarium Read online

  Behind her, Daisy stood holding a plank of wood, her eyes wide as she stared down at Olive’s still form.

  “Daisy! Thank goodness you’re here!” Araminta breathed in quickly then exhaled with relief. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Prudence. She said you were down here looking for mice, and I knew that couldn’t be true. I guessed you might be on to something with the investigation. I sent Harold to the solarium to bring the police. They should be right behind me.”

  Araminta blew out her breath, relieved someone had come in time to save her. “Olive killed Shirley. She admitted everything.”

  Daisy nodded. “I heard. It’s sad she tried to frame Angela.”

  Angela. Araminta hurried around Olive’s prostrate body. The cats were one step ahead of her and already circling around the letters and batting them with their little paws. “Help me gather the letters, Daisy. Unless you’d like to deal with more family fallout, we will need to dispose of them.”

  Daisy hurriedly collected the papers, which had come out of the dumbwaiter opening when the thing fell. “Right. I don’t think it’s necessary for everyone to know about Angie and Owen’s affair.”

  Quickly, she opened her purse and stuck them inside, along with the stack Araminta brought to her. She’d just managed to close the thing when the police came rushing down the stairs, with Harold right behind them.

  Chapter Twenty

  Several days later…

  “This flower arrangement is particularly colorful,” Daisy said as she fussed with the purple and pink lilies, carnations, and chrysanthemums in the cut-crystal vase that sat on the sideboard in the parlor. Arun and Sasha must have agreed, because they immediately jumped up on to the sideboard and started sniffing.

  “I’m just glad the relatives are gone.” Reggie plopped down into an overstuffed chair, placing the duffel bag in front of him. He was on his way to make good on his promise of attending the Gamblers Anonymous retreat that afternoon.

  “And that the real killer was caught and no one in our little family suffered.” Araminta kept her eye on the cats. Lilies were poisonous for them, and she wanted to make sure they stuck to just sniffing and didn’t try chewing. Though she knew they were smart and knew which plants to steer clear of, she didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Thanks to you.” Stephanie squeezed Araminta’s hand.

  Araminta waved away the accolades. “All in a day’s work.”

  “I think things turned out as good as can be expected.” Daisy finished with the flowers and perched on the edge of the couch. “Even Prudence apologized for thinking there were mice in the manor.”

  Araminta smiled at the memory of Pru’s apology. She’d even gone one step better and indicated that she should have known that such a problem would never have escaped Daisy’s notice, given her attention to detail.

  “It was a good thing she did hear those noises, though. Otherwise, I might not have figured out that the dumbwaiter was used for the murder weapon, and Olive may never have been caught, so some good came out of it, at least,” Araminta said.

  Another good thing had come of it, though Araminta couldn’t tell the rest of the family. Only she and Daisy knew about the private moment with Angela, during which Daisy gave her the recovered letters with a stern reprimand about the absolute need for discretion if she meant to carry on with her extramarital frivolities. Daisy told Angela that she wouldn’t take kindly to further blackening of the family reputation—especially after she and Araminta had done her a great favor by protecting her when they could have simply let the cops find her letters, which were open declarations of Angela’s love and proof of her subsequent indiscretions with Daisy’s own husband’s brother.

  No, the Moorecliff family had been through enough, and Daisy wouldn’t appreciate further tarnishing of the Moorecliff name. Not at all.

  Angela assured them both that her “fling” with Owen was over. She’d learned there was something to be said for loyalty within a family. She was going home to her husband, and who knew? Perhaps if she put a bit of actual effort into getting to know him, there might be a chance she would find more to love about her husband than the Moorecliff money.

  Araminta was surprised by her declaration and skeptical about her sincerity, but Daisy felt assured Angela had taken Daisy’s threat to heart and meant to change her ways. If there was one thing Araminta felt sure of, it was that Daisy often knew a lot more about people than they thought, so if she believed Angela was on the path to recovering a marriage she could have lost, well, she might as well believe it too.

  “Poor Yancy, though,” Stephanie said. “He’s really down in the dumps.”

  All heads turned to look out the window, where Yancy was pruning a shrub. “Poor thing,” Araminta said. “I think he’ll be fine, though. I saw him exchanging information with Charlotte Dinsmore as she was leaving.”

  “Whatever makes him feel better, I guess. I do value the staff, and I want them to be happy.” Daisy turned to Harold. “And I want to thank you for your part in helping the police take Olive into custody.”

  Olive had awakened when the police arrived after Daisy clobbered her and did not accept her arrest easily. Luckily, Harold was there to help Ivan and his uniformed officers wrangle her into the police car.

  Harold blushed at the compliment. “A butler’s job is to help in any way he can. I’m just glad that the killer was caught. Two murders at the manor in a matter of weeks is a bit unsettling.”

  Daisy laughed. “I’ll say. We certainly have had our share of murders, but thankfully, that’s behind us. With two under our belt, what are the odds murder will happen at Moorecliff Manor a third time?”

  “Stay away from those lilies. They’re toxic for cats,” Sasha warned Arun, who was sniffing the colorful flower bouquet in the crystal vase.

  Arun scowled. “I know that, silly. I was just trying to see if I could sniff out any intent.”

  “Intent?” Sasha glanced from Arun to the flowers.

  “Yes, these flower deliveries keep coming for Daisy, but there is never any card. Who is sending them, and what is their intent?”

  “A secret admirer, maybe?” Sasha suggested.

  Arun shrugged and hopped down from the sideboard. “Wouldn’t be the strangest thing going on around here.”

  “No kidding. Lots of strangeness with that Moorecliff clan. I’m just glad they are all gone.”

  “Ditto. They were disturbing my naps.”

  “And always trying to pick us up. I don’t mind sometimes, but it was excessive.”

  Arun agreed. He much preferred to seek out attention rather than have it foisted on him. He didn’t mind when Araminta or one of the immediate family scooped him up, but the attentions of the rest of the clan with their grabby hands were not welcome. He’d let them know that in no uncertain terms by hissing and clawing. “I especially did not relish the attention from Prudence after the old bag accused us of being inferior mousers!”

  Sasha hissed her agreement. “Imagine her thinking there were mice on the premises. We would not allow it.”

  “No, the house is clean of intruders,” Arun glanced out the window. “But maybe not the grounds.”

  Sasha followed his gaze. “So, you’ve notice too?”

  Arun nodded. “Hedges trampled, footprints in the mulch, strange lingering smells.”

  “At first, I thought it was simply the nocturnal ramblings of the Moorecliff humans.”

  “But now that they are all gone…” Arun let his words drift off as they both stared out the window.

  “We will have to keep an eye on the grounds. It’s probably nothing.” Sasha jumped down from the table, yawned, and stretched. “Right now, I think it’s time to find a nice quiet place and catch up on my sleep.”

  “Good idea.” Arun jumped down beside her. “You’re right—it is probably nothing. Like Daisy said, what are the odds murder will happen at Moorecliff Manor a third time?”

  ********
**************

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  About the Author

  USA Today best-selling Author, Leighann Dobbs, has had a passion for reading since she was old enough to hold a book, but she didn’t put pen to paper until much later in life. After a twenty-year career as a software engineer, with a few side trips into selling antiques and making jewelry, she realized you can’t make a living reading books, so she tried her hand at writing them and discovered she had a passion for that, too! She lives in New Hampshire with her husband, Bruce, their trusty Chihuahua mix, Mojo, and beautiful rescue cat, Kitty.

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  This is a work of fiction.

  None of it is real. All names, places, and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real names, places, or events are purely coincidental, and should not be construed as being real.

  STABBED IN THE SOLARIUM

  Copyright © 2021

  Leighann Dobbs Publishing

  http://www.leighanndobbs.com

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