100 Proof Murder Page 9

  ‘If she’s busy, would you drive to Roseville with me?’ Jill teased. ‘There have been plenty of changes since you last stayed at Sweet Dreams B and B. I need to make sure those two women aren’t pulling each other’s hair out.’

  ‘Which two?’ Nick sounded appropriately concerned.

  ‘All questions will be answered at breakfast – my treat. Pick me up in half an hour. We’ll stop at Bob Evans and then head to Roseville.’

  As usual, Nick pulled up to the Thurman House Hotel just as Jill walked out the door. Typical of Sundays, Bob Evans was crowded, so they ate at the counter – pancakes and sausage for him, strawberry French toast for her. Jill waited until they left the restaurant to fill Nick in. ‘I haven’t told you my news about Aunt Dot,’ she said once on the road. ‘I told Michael, but I wanted to tell you in person.’

  Nick glanced over at her. ‘Don’t tell me she’s found a new husband this soon after Roger’s death.’

  ‘Goodness, no, but thanks to me she now has someone to help run the B and B … my granny!’

  ‘Your grandmother – the one who didn’t speak to Dot for forty years because of a teenage argument?’

  ‘That’s the one!’ Jill crowed with enthusiasm.

  ‘The grandmother who broke her hip and has been living in a nursing home?’

  ‘Yes, Nick. I only have one living granny.’

  ‘How can a crippled, elderly woman help another elderly woman run a huge house like Sweet Dreams?’

  Jill pulled down her sunglasses and glared. ‘My grandmother is not crippled, buster. She fell and broke her hip, so my parents put her in a nursing home to rehabilitate. Her hip has fully healed and she gets around just fine. All she needs is someone to remind her to take her meds. Granny planned to move back home, but my parents sold the house out from under her. Let that be a lesson to you. Be careful who you give power of attorney.’

  Nick stopped for a red light. ‘Your parents sold the house without telling her?’

  ‘Basically, yes. They decided it was too much for her to take care of, especially with the bedrooms upstairs. They told Granny she could move in with them if she didn’t want to remain in assisted living. Well, my grandmother had no desire to live in the suburbs. Besides, my parents both work and are gone all day, so they wouldn’t know if she took her noon pills or not.’

  ‘Was she mad about her house being sold?’ Nick accelerated as soon as the light turned green.

  ‘Hot as a hornet, until I suggested she live with her cousin in Roseville. Remember, Granny and Dot had been best friends until that argument over a boy. Apparently the young man was Granny’s boyfriend first. Then Dot stole him away because she thought they were just “friends”.’

  ‘Hard to imagine Dorothy Clark as a man-stealer.’

  ‘That’s because you think of her as the tea-sipping, scone-baking community volunteer she is now. Everyone was eighteen at some point. The young man in question should’ve made it clear he and Emma were an item … or whatever they called dating back then.’

  Nick cackled like a crow. ‘So men are the root of all evil?’

  ‘I hope that’s not true in your case.’ Jill leaned back to watch the scenery. ‘Anyway, when I approached Aunt Dot, she was all for it. My grandmother, Emma, has always been a wonderful cook. Dot loves taking care of the business end of Sweet Dreams, but the kitchen has never been her favorite place. A B and B must serve breakfast each morning to their guests. Emma excels at making breakfast memorable. They both enjoy teatime with scones at four and happy hour at six for those guests who imbibe.’

  ‘It’s still a lot for two old ladies to manage. That is one huge house.’

  ‘Since we’re on our way there, I caution you about throwing around the term “old lady”. You might discover exactly what Emma and Dot are still capable of.’

  ‘Duly noted, Miss Curtis.’ Nick bit back a smile.

  ‘To put your mind at ease, they pay a local woman to change the linens, clean the bathrooms, and do the laundry every day. Plus a service gives the place a thorough cleaning once a week. All Dot has to do is walk around with the feather duster and help Emma in the kitchen. Like I said, Emma has wonderful recipes that are easy and quick to make.’

  ‘The B and B generates enough income to cover those kinds of expenses?’ Nick asked.

  ‘Right now it does, but buying a B and B is definitely not on my bucket list.’

  ‘I can see it now … Jill and Nick’s Home-Away-from-Home. Breakfast would be boxes of cereal and granola bars, juice in the fridge, coffee pods next to the Keurig machine. Guests must help themselves and then clean up afterwards, while their hosts sleep until nine.’

  Jill might have balked at his poor estimation of her domestic abilities, but since he had put himself in the imaginary picture, she didn’t. In fact, it all sounded rather wonderful. ‘Could possibly work,’ she murmured. ‘The world will be a very different place by the time we retire.’

  ‘Sounds like Granny and Dot Clark might be a match made in heaven, now that Roger is gone and Emma no longer has a home.’

  ‘According to them so far so good, but with the new set-up they have time on their hands. I suggested they come up with a hobby.’

  ‘How is that going?’

  ‘You and I are about to find out. I asked you along for back-up, in case there’s gunplay or fisticuffs.’

  Nick barely cracked a smile. ‘I locked my service weapon in the gun safe.’

  ‘I was joking about gunplay. And if there are fisticuffs, I believe we can subdue two women in their seventies.’

  Before they knew it, Nick turned off the freeway and started down the familiar road to Roseville. Jill loved the charming, turn-of-the-century village. That is, turn of the twentieth, not the current, century. Vibrant downtown shops and restaurants surrounded a shady town square, with a gazebo and bandstand for summer concerts and Christmas caroling. Jill could never have pictured herself living anywhere but Chicago until she came to Roseville.

  ‘We’re here,’ Nick sang out twenty minutes later. ‘Should I park in my usual spot in the back?’

  Jill noticed plenty of cars in the driveway. ‘No, park on the street. We don’t want to inconvenience Dot’s guests.’

  She climbed the steps and stood for a moment on the wide porch of the Victorian mansion, unsure how to approach. ‘Let’s enter through the front door and not the kitchen. We’ll pretend we’re just another couple checking in.’ Hooking her arm through Nick’s elbow, Jill pushed open the screen and stepped into the foyer. On Sundays the front door was kept unlocked and ajar to welcome friends and would-be guests.

  ‘Hello,’ she called. ‘Is anybody home?’

  ‘We’re in here,’ someone answered. ‘Although I doubt we’re who you’re looking for.’ There was a smattering of laughter.

  Jill and Nick cut through the parlor to the grand dining room and stopped short. Three couples sat at the table with dirty plates in front of them and empty coffee cups. ‘Hi, folks, I’m Jill, Mrs Clark’s cousin. Let me refill those cups for you.’ She marched to the sideboard for the carafe.

  ‘Thanks, Jill, but the pot’s empty. We’ve just had a delicious breakfast. Now we’re waiting for them to … finish,’ said a silver-haired woman with a smile.

  ‘Finish what?’ Nick started stacking dirty plates. ‘I’m Nick, not a relative, just Jill’s boyfriend.’

  ‘Our hostesses seem to be quarreling,’ whispered a gentleman on the woman’s left. ‘But we’re in no hurry.’

  ‘Forgive me for saying so, but those two are rather entertaining.’ This observation came from an apple-cheeked woman at the far end.

  ‘No forgiveness necessary. The other lady is my grandmother.’ Jill rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll straighten this out and fetch more coffee.’ She picked up the carafe and marched through the swinging doors with Nick on her heels with the plates.

  ‘Granny! Aunt Dot! What on earth is going on?’

  ‘Jill?’ both asked simultaneous
ly.

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Why are you neglecting your guests?’ Jill refilled the carafe from the giant coffeemaker as Nick filled the sink with dishwater.

  As though awoken from a dream the women flew into action. Emma pulled a walnut coffee cake from the warming oven, while Dot grabbed the pot from Jill’s hand.

  ‘They could hear every word you two said,’ Jill whispered under her breath.

  Emma and Dot bustled into the dining room, red-faced and apologetic for their behavior. From the amount of laughter Jill and Nick heard with their ears pressed to the door, all was well with the three couples.

  Jill bent down to pet Jack, a beagle she’d formed a strong attachment to during her recent stay. ‘Let’s take the dog for a long walk until the guests pack up and leave. Then I’ll sit my relatives down for a good talking to.’

  Nick snapped on Jack’s leash. ‘I wouldn’t miss that conversation for anything in the world.’

  The three of them covered the entire commercial area, along with the bulk of residential streets between downtown and the B and B. When they walked through the back door into the kitchen, the dishes were washed and put away and the room was spotless. Both women were sipping tea at the table.

  ‘Wow,’ said Jill, resting her hands on her hips. ‘This is a different side than the one you showed your guests.’

  Aunt Dot broke the ice first. ‘We apologized to those lovely people and promised if they return, their rooms would be half price and there would be no repeat performance.’

  Emma nodded. ‘They insisted the rooms were beautiful, the food delicious, and they weren’t the least bit put-off by our squabble.’

  ‘What exactly was the squabble about?’ Jill sat down at the table, knowing she was venturing onto thin ice.

  ‘It was my fault.’ Dot wrung her hands in her lap. ‘If I see something needing to be done, I jump in and do it.’

  ‘Young people call that being a control freak.’ Emma crossed her arms over her apron.

  Behind them Nick coughed to cover up his chuckle.

  ‘Go on, Grandma. You’ve got the floor,’ Jill prodded.

  ‘Dot told me that breakfast would be my domain, just like teatime and how the house looks is her domain. When I cook, I’m not used to people sticking their big noses in.’

  Aunt Dot pressed the sides of her nose with two fingers. ‘My nose is normal size. Thank you very much.’

  This time Jill couldn’t help but laugh. ‘That was it? No fighting over the mailman’s attention?’

  Emma hooted. ‘Goodness, no. You can have him, Dot.’

  Dot turned to her cousin. ‘No, I insist. He’s yours.’

  Jill looked from one to the other. ‘The solution is simple: Granny reigns in the kitchen at breakfast. Don’t help with anything, Aunt Dot, unless Emma asks for help.’

  Dot nodded her head solemnly. ‘I promise, Em.’

  ‘Then teatime, happy hour, and the house are Aunt Dot’s territory. Other than keeping your room tidy, Granny, butt out unless asked to pitch in.’

  ‘I agree. Sorry we argued, Dot,’ Emma added.

  ‘No, I’m the one with a short temper—’

  Jill quickly cut her off. ‘Moving on, ladies, I thought we discussed on the phone the subject of hobbies. Have you come up with anything?’

  ‘We certainly have,’ they both chimed.

  ‘Emma has taken up knitting again,’ Dot explained. ‘Right now she’s making a shawl for a special somebody for Christmas.’

  ‘Blabbermouth,’ Granny cried.

  ‘Jill never would’ve known she was the special someone if you hadn’t said that,’ Dot calmly pointed out. ‘And I volunteered to chair two committees at church – the monthly bake sale and our annual coat drive.’

  ‘Plus, we came up with a clever evening project.’ Emma beamed at her cousin. ‘Together we’re hosting the weekly Book-and-Bourbon Club. We’ve already had our first meeting. At each meeting we vote on a book to read during the following week. Then we’ll gather Tuesday nights in Roger’s study to discuss the book around the fireplace.’

  ‘How does bourbon figure in?’ Nick asked, settling his hands on Jill’s shoulders.

  ‘Oh, I almost forgot the best part. Most of the ladies in town have only tasted one brand, if they’ve tasted bourbon at all. And they know nothing about the distilleries in the area other than Founders Reserve and Black Creek. At each meeting, we’ll taste a different Kentucky brand and learn about the company that produced it. At our first get-together, we picked out the book to read while sipping a bit of Roger’s pride and joy, and chose the book Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.’

  ‘What about you, Granny?’ Jill asked. ‘Are you ready to try a little bourbon?’

  Emma bobbed her head. ‘I am. I’ve already bought a bottle of Founder’s Reserve to sample at the next meeting, which is in two days.’ She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Dot told me the master distiller’s son turned out to be a murderer. I did some research on the company to share with the group.’

  Jill angled a pained expression over her shoulder at Nick. ‘What about the teetotalers in the reading group?’ she asked. ‘Surely not everyone wants to sample whiskey.’

  Dot grinned. ‘There are at least two abstainers, so we’ll always have tea and coffee, plus plenty of snacks and desserts for everyone.’

  ‘Which reminds me …’ Granny jumped to her feet. ‘I baked an extra carrot cake this morning. It’s on the dining room buffet. Why don’t we have a slice with a cup of coffee?’

  ‘I’ll get plates and the coffee carafe.’ Dot followed her cousin through the swinging doors.

  ‘What could possibly go wrong with this bright idea?’ Nick muttered under his breath.

  ‘Now, now, Trooper. Let’s not discourage them right off the bat. I can handle this.’

  ‘What will you do,’ Jill asked Dot when she returned, ‘if one of your guests loves the week’s selection too much and becomes tipsy?’

  Dot had an answer ready. ‘We have a plan for that. Although we’ll discourage over-imbibing at meetings, anyone who gets tipsy will spend the night here.’ She pointed at the ceiling.

  ‘After all, this is an inn,’ Emma added, placing large slices of cake in front of them.

  ‘Most of the ladies walk here anyway.’ Dot filled mugs with fresh coffee.

  Jill swallowed her first mouthful of cake. ‘Sounds like you’ve covered your bases.’

  Nick wasn’t quite so convinced. ‘If someone refuses to stay overnight, make sure you send them home in a cab or an Uber.’

  ‘Will do, Lieutenant.’ Dot saluted as though in the military. ‘You do know that these two are dating, right?’ She said this to Emma. ‘And Nick is a state cop?’

  ‘Of course I knew they were an item. Jill is my granddaughter.’ Emma giggled like a child.

  ‘Feel free to talk about us all you like,’ Jill suggested. ‘We’ll just enjoy our cake.’

  ‘That sounds like a real bright idea, kids.’ Both women broke into a round of laughter, while Jill and Nick ate with blushing faces. They hadn’t been the only ones listening at the swinging doors.

  It was late when Jill and Nick got back to Louisville from Roseville. And even later when she was finally able to fall asleep. After they’d had cake and coffee with her relatives, Jill had stripped the beds in the guest rooms, started the laundry, and remade the beds with clean linens. That way Dot’s hired woman could get a head start on the cleaning that week.

  While Jill was occupied, Nick had found a hedge trimmer in the garage and attacked the shrubbery, despite Dot’s insistence that her gardening service would eventually get to it. After staying at Sweet Dreams B & B for two weeks, Nick felt indebted to Mrs Clark, who had fed him an enormous number of meals.

  When Jill finally climbed into bed that night, she tossed and turned for an hour, thinking about Nick. Were they just ‘dating’ as Dot described? ‘An item’ in the words of her grandmother or ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’, as mo
st people would describe? But for how much longer? This was the start of her second week in Louisville. She and Michael had another week, two at the most, before the boss insisted they return to Chicago. Jill needed a plan … or she needed another job in a hurry.

  She awoke to her phone ringing next to her ear on the pillow. ‘Hello? This is Jill Curtis.’

  ‘Good morning, Jill. Alexis Scott. Would you like to finish that interview this morning?’

  It took Jill less than five seconds to regain her faculties. ‘Nothing would please me more. But are you sure you’re ready? You just had your dad’s service two days ago.’

  ‘I cried all day yesterday. Today I need to get busy or I’ll go stark, raving mad.’

  ‘That makes sense.’ Jill climbed out of bed. ‘Shall I come to your office? I can be there within the hour.’

  ‘I would prefer you came to my apartment, if you don’t mind. In case we discuss matters other than the distillery, I want complete privacy. I’ll have breakfast for us here. Oh, and I’m sorry about your run-in with my mom the other day. I’ll make sure you get another chance.’

  Jill wasn’t sure how anyone could have privacy with a mother like Rose. Nevertheless, she readily agreed and jumped in the shower. Half an hour later, Jill found Michael sulking in the tiny kitchen of their suite.

  ‘I suppose you’re off without me again?’ he asked.

  ‘Unfortunately, yes. May I use the car? I want to finish my interview of the operations manager at Parker Estate and Alexis might have some off-topic questions for me. There won’t be anything for you to videotape.’

  Michael slugged down his coffee. ‘I’d have thought you’d have asked her what you needed to by now.’

  Jill stared at him. ‘When would that have been? While I was paying my respects at the funeral home or perhaps during the memorial service? Today is Alexis’s first day back to work since her father died.’

  He blew out his breath. ‘What am I supposed to do?’

  ‘Start getting the narrative along with video at the next distillery. You know you really enjoyed interviewing Broadhust. Then maybe I won’t have to visit that one.’

  ‘I already took the tour once. It’s the same story that we heard in Roseville – charred oak barrels, limestone water, corn mixed with malted barley, blah, blah, blah.’