Софи Келли - A Midwinter's Tail

I wasn’t even close to right.

26

Maggie’s Bug was parked in the circular driveway in front of the main entrance to Marsh Farm, but she wasn’t in it.

“That’s a good sign,” I said to Owen. There was a small silver truck in front of her Volkswagen.

I’d brought the cat carrier bag with me, and Owen climbed inside without argument.

Marsh Farm looked nothing like any farm I’d ever seen. The house was bigger than Wisteria Hill—three floors instead of two. It was shingled with blue-gray cedar shakes and had many large, multipaneled windows. The wine-colored front door was unlocked and I stepped into a beautiful foyer with cream-colored walls and an elegant crystal chandelier overhead. A wide staircase led to the upper floors. The treads were dark polished wood with an Oriental carpet runner in shades of burgundy and cream. Behind the stairs I could see a huge window and above it there was a massive oil painting of a Victorian-era woman on a horse.

“Maggie, where are you?” I called.

“Back here,” she answered.

“That was helpful,” I said to Owen.

I got a snippy meow in return. Owen didn’t like any criticism of his ladylove.

Maggie’s voice had come from the left side of the big house, so I went in that direction. The huge front room looked as though it had been a parlor of some kind. It led into a smaller room, which in turn led to the kitchen, which was where I found Maggie and Olivia Ramsey.

“Oh, uh, hi, Olivia,” I said. “What are you doing out here?”

“She came to check out the kitchen for Georgia,” Maggie said. She leaned toward the cat carrier. “Hey, Owen.”

He murped a hello back at her.

“Where is it?” I asked.

Maggie gave a little shudder. “The second set of stairs up to the third floor.”

“I offered to go take a look,” Olivia said.

“But I thought it would be safer if she stayed down here. With me,” Maggie hastily added.

“It’s okay,” I said, giving her what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile. “Owen and I will go see what’s going on.” What I really wanted was to grab Maggie and get out of there, but I didn’t want Olivia to know I was onto her.

I let Owen out of the bag on the second-floor landing. “Go for it,” I said.

I could see something gray and furry about five steps from the top. Owen crept slowly from tread to tread. Suddenly, he stopped. I held on to the strap of the cat bag, ready to swing it if something decided to make a run for it in my direction.

Owen was already on the step with whatever the furry animal was. He grabbed it in his teeth and started back down to me.

Great. It wasn’t dead. I really hoped Maggie wasn’t waiting down by the front door. As Owen got closer to me, I realized whatever he was carrying in his mouth definitely wasn’t dead. Because it had never been alive. The cat stopped at my feet and looked up at me.

“What is that?” I said. He dropped his find on the floor and then swatted it with one paw. It rolled about six inches.

I leaned over for a closer look. It was a fur pompom, probably from a hat or a fur coat.

“Good job,” I said.

He preened appropriately.

Maggie and Olivia were still in the kitchen.

“Did he get it already?” Maggie asked.

“Yep,” I said, holding up the little ball of gray fur. “You were menaced by a pompom.”

Maggie had her arms folded over her chest, shoulders hunched, and now she gave me a sheepish look.

“Well, that’s embarrassing,” she said. She looked at Owen, who was standing just to my right. “But you’re still my hero.”

He smiled at her. I swear.

I handed her the seating chart Lita had given me. Maggie looked at it and frowned. “I don’t think this is going to work,” she muttered. Then she looked up at me. “Would you like to see the room Everett wants to use?” she asked.

“I would,” I said.

Olivia was opening cupboards and making notes on a small pad.

“We’ll be back,” Maggie said.

Olivia nodded over her shoulder. “Okay.”

I scooped up Owen and put him back in the carrier bag before he had a chance to disappear into another room or disappear altogether.

Maggie took us back through the two rooms I’d passed through, to another large space on the other side of the huge house. It was actually two rooms, separated by a set of leaded-glass sliding French doors.

“This is beautiful,” I said

She nodded. “I know. But it’s a lot fancier than what Rebecca had in mind.”

“Everett seems to have lost his mind when it comes to this wedding.”

Maggie pulled out her phone. “I’m going to take some pictures of the room on the other side. I think it might be the better choice.”

Maggie snapped several shots of the other room and then stopped dead in the center of the space. “I’m supposed to meet Oren in about forty-five minutes,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “I completely forgot.”

“You have lots of time to get back to town,” I said.

“I know. But Olivia needs to take some measurements in the kitchen and make an inventory of some of the equipment for Georgia.” She looked around uncertainly. “I’ll try Oren’s house. Maybe he’s still there.”

Oren Kenyon was one of the few people I knew who didn’t have a cell phone.

There was no answer at Oren’s.

Maggie put her phone in her pocket. “Kath, I hate to ask, but could you stay here with Olivia and then lock up?”

I nodded. “Go,” I said. I could fake it with Olivia for a few more minutes.

I followed Maggie back to the kitchen, where she explained to Olivia what was going on. A small blowtorch was sitting in the middle of the large island in the center of the room.

“Are you sure you don’t mind staying?” she asked me. “Georgia really needs to figure out her dessert menu and get back to Everett about the price. She’s working at Fern’s this morning, so I said I’d come out and look at the kitchen for her.”

“It’s not a problem,” I said.

“Why do you have a blowtorch?” Maggie asked, gesturing at it.

Olivia smiled. “Would you believe it was one of the things Georgia asked me to look for? She uses it to caramelize the top of crème brûlée.”

Maggie smiled. “I didn’t know that. Then again, I’ve never made crème brûlée.” She handed me the keys and gave me a hug. “I owe you lunch at Eric’s for this,” she said.

Olivia had gone back to looking in cupboards and writing in a wire-bound notepad.

“I’m just going to look around a little,” I said to her. It made me a bit uncomfortable being in the same room with her, given what I believed she’d done. But then again, there was absolutely no way she could know what I suspected. Once I was in the front parlor again, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, thinking maybe I’d see if I could reach Marcus.

“Put the phone away,” Olivia said behind me.

I turned around to look at her. I hadn’t realized she’d followed me.

She was holding the blowtorch except now it was lit, a tight blue flame coming out of the end.

“What are you doing?” I said.

She smiled, but the gesture was cold. “Protecting myself.”

I frowned. “From me?”

Olivia shrugged and looked around. Then she took a couple of steps toward me. I backed up toward the foyer. She knew, I realized. She knew that I knew what she’d done.

“You’ve been looking at Ed Jensen’s Web site,” she said. “You’ve been spying on me.”

Behind me Maggie’s voice said, “Olivia, what are you talking about?”

I swung around. Maggie was standing just inside the big front door. “I forgot my phone,” she said, walking over to me. She looked at Olivia. “Why are you carrying that blowtorch? What’s going on?”