Death Rides a Pony, page 19
Thump, thump, thump.
‘For criminy sake,’ Summer muttered. ‘How can an umbrella make that much noise?’
‘It’s hitting the metal trim, so it’s echoing.’
‘But why on earth are they doing it at all! The boutique is appointment-only on Sundays. And even if it weren’t, this is not anywhere close to normal business hours.’
Hope flipped on the main light switch, and the shop brightened. The hammering instantly ceased.
‘Hello!’ came a yodel.
This time, their heads snapped toward each other.
‘Is that Rosemarie?’ Hope said in astonishment.
Summer responded with an affirmative snort. ‘This is exactly what I told Nate would happen. Now that Rosemarie’s had a chance to calm down and properly think things through, she’s realized how ridiculous her accusations against us were. She didn’t really mean any of it, and she wants to apologize and make amends. Granted, I had assumed that it would take longer than a day for her to come to the boutique, but I guess either her feet are fast healers or she is really eager for a reading from you.’ There was another snort. ‘Maybe she has questions about whether there’s a new beau in her future.’
Hope wasn’t as amused as her sister. ‘On the other hand, maybe Rosemarie isn’t interested in a reading or forgiveness. Maybe she hasn’t changed her mind in the slightest and still believes that you’re a murderess. Maybe Rosemarie has come for revenge.’
Summer stared at her.
The yodel repeated itself. ‘Hello!’ It was followed by one sharp thump against the window frame.
Not wanting Rosemarie to start hammering again, Hope hastily headed toward the front door.
‘Wait!’ Summer called. ‘What if she really is seeking revenge and has a weapon with her?’
‘I’m confident that we can defend ourselves against an umbrella.’
A third yodel was just beginning to take shape when Hope turned the lock and unlatched the door. Rosemarie didn’t rush inside with her typical gusto. Instead, she stood hesitantly on the threshold of the boutique, as though she wasn’t quite sure whether to enter at all. Also different was the pattern of her billowy dress. The usual garish flowers had been replaced by sedate fern fronds.
Hope offered her a welcoming smile. ‘Good morning, Rosemarie. You – and your umbrella – are out and about early today.’
‘I’ve come prepared,’ she answered earnestly, waving the umbrella in the air. ‘It’s going to rain.’
‘Do you think so?’ Hope looked through the doorway and up at the sky. Not one cloud from the prior evening remained. The cerulean blue was unblemished.
‘It may be sunny now, but just wait until this afternoon.’ Rosemarie waved the umbrella again as though to emphasize the point. ‘The weather was already beginning to change yesterday evening. Percy could feel it in his little bones and was whining half the night.’
Hope’s gaze went to Rosemarie’s feet. The strappy sandals had been supplanted by white tennis sneakers. Percy was nowhere to be seen.
‘Where is Percy?’ she asked in surprise.
Rosemarie seemed surprised in turn. ‘He’s at home asleep, of course. I would never wake him at this hour. Percy needs his beauty rest.’
There was a grumpy harrumph from Summer. Hope was inclined to agree with her sister. It was rather annoying to be dragged out of bed by the hammering of an umbrella when pug Percy was allowed to remain peaceably snoozing.
‘I also didn’t want to take the chance that he might encounter a sudden shower,’ Rosemarie continued. ‘Percy catches cold easily.’
Although it was difficult to imagine any rain shower being cold in the current temperatures, Hope nodded politely.
Rosemarie nodded back at her. ‘As for me, I’m from sturdy stock. With my umbrella, I can handle any sort of weather. And it came in extra handy this morning for knocking on your window.’
‘You’re fortunate that the neighbors didn’t call the police to complain about the noise,’ Summer remarked peevishly.
‘Oh, gosh, they wouldn’t have done that, would they? I did try knocking regularly on the door at first, but then I realized that you would never hear me if you were upstairs or in the garden. So I switched to tapping on the frame.’
Tapping on the frame was a considerable understatement, but Hope knew that there was nothing to be gained from belaboring the point, so she replied mildly, ‘Well, we’ve heard you now. Why don’t you come inside and have a cup of coffee with us?’
‘That would be nice. You’re both so nice. And I’m not nice at all …’ Rosemarie let out an anguished wail and abruptly burst into tears.
Hope turned and exchanged a glance with her sister. That settled the matter: the purpose of Rosemarie’s visit was forgiveness and not revenge.
A second wail almost immediately followed the first. It was at such a pitch and volume that Hope honestly began to worry about the neighbors calling the police. She took a quick step forward and wrapped her arm around Rosemarie’s shoulders.
‘There’s no need to be upset,’ she said as soothingly as she could. ‘Everything is fine.’
‘Everything is not fine,’ Rosemarie protested. ‘I told the police detective horrible things yesterday. Horrible, horrible things!’
Hope was nearly deafened by a third wail, and she hurriedly guided Rosemarie through the doorway into the boutique. With any luck, Miranda and Paul had good insulation and were sound sleepers.
‘I’m so embarrassed!’ Rosemarie cried. ‘And Percy was so embarrassed for me that he barely touched his dinner!’
The sisters exchanged another glance, and this time, they restrained a smile. It was highly unlikely that the pug’s hearty appetite had been impeded by any concern over Rosemarie’s chagrin.
‘The words from yesterday have been forgotten today,’ Hope told her.
‘Entirely forgotten,’ Summer agreed. She handed Rosemarie a tissue.
Rosemarie blew her nose vigorously and dabbed at her eyes.
‘Everything is fine,’ Hope reiterated.
‘It’s behind us, and we’re all good friends,’ Summer added graciously. ‘Now why don’t we sit down and have that cup of coffee?’
‘That’s wonderfully kind of you. And ordinarily, I would very much enjoy a cup, but …’ Rosemarie hesitated.
‘But?’ Hope asked her.
‘But the reason I came here so early this morning … I need to talk to you about …’ Again she hesitated.
Hope restrained another smile. So that was what had prompted Rosemarie’s speedy contrition. Summer’s guess had been spot on: Rosemarie wanted a reading.
‘What kind of a reading would you prefer?’ Hope started to walk toward her palm-reading table. ‘We could draw a Tarot card or—’
‘Oh, no,’ Rosemarie interjected. ‘I’ve already had a reading.’
Hope halted in surprise. ‘You have?’
‘Well, yes,’ she admitted.
For a moment, Hope was at a loss how to respond.
‘You’ve gone to someone else?’ Summer’s tone held a mixture of incredulity and indignation, as though Rosemarie had been shockingly unfaithful.
Rosemarie flushed. ‘I know that I shouldn’t have, but I had such a bad feeling yesterday evening. It was just like the feeling I had the day before, when Davis …’ She swallowed hard, and tears once more welled up in her eyes.
‘We understand,’ Hope said gently. ‘You should talk to whoever helps you to feel better. That’s the most important thing.’
‘But it didn’t help me to feel better!’ Rosemarie exclaimed. ‘It frightened me terribly! She said … she said …’ The words came out in such a frenzy that she couldn’t continue.
Exasperation overtaking sympathy, Summer frowned at her.
Hope tried to be patient. ‘Who said?’
Rosemarie drew a great gasping breath. ‘Madam Gina. She said that there had been another death!’
TWENTY
‘Madam Gina?’ Summer mouthed silently to Hope.
Hope could only shake her head. She had never heard of Madam Gina, either.
‘Don’t you understand?’ Rosemarie was aghast at their lack of reaction. ‘This is an emergency! That’s why I’ve come before breakfast. That’s the reason we don’t have time to sit down for coffee. There’s a poor soul who has departed!’
‘Yes, well …’ Hope searched for a soft, roundabout response.
Summer took the direct route. ‘I don’t wish to sound callous, Rosemarie, but there are always deaths. Every day. From old age and illness and accidents—’
‘That isn’t at all what I’m talking about,’ Rosemarie interjected. ‘That isn’t what Madam Gina meant.’
‘And who, pray tell, is Madam Gina?’ Summer said.
Hope couldn’t fail to catch the sarcasm in her sister’s tone. She knew what Summer was thinking: Madam Gina had the same unfortunate brothel connotation as Madam Bailey. Thankfully, Rosemarie didn’t seem to notice.
‘You don’t know Madam Gina?’ Rosemarie replied in surprise.
‘Nope. Not even a little bit.’
‘That’s odd. Because Madam Gina certainly knows you.’
It was Hope’s turn to express surprise. ‘She does? Are you sure?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Rosemarie nodded. ‘She told me that everyone with the gift knows each other.’
Hope and Summer exchanged an amused look.
‘And what sort of gift does Madam Gina purport to have?’ Summer inquired.
‘She can summon spirits.’
Hope and Summer looked at each other again, this time with uneasiness.
‘What kind of spirits?’ Hope asked Rosemarie.
‘Any kind you want. She gave me the impression that people are mostly interested in their deceased friends and relatives.’ Rosemarie’s expression grew melancholy. ‘I would love to see my dear Bruno again.’
‘Bruno?’ Summer echoed. ‘I knew that you had been divorced twice, Rosemarie, but I didn’t realize that you were also widowed.’
‘Goodness, no.’ Rosemarie smiled wistfully. ‘Bruno was my cocker spaniel. He was with me for fourteen years before Percy came into my life. I have some photos …’ She started to reach into her handbag but then stopped herself. ‘I’ll show them to you later. We can’t allow ourselves to be distracted. Madam Gina told me that there had been another death, and we must take immediate action.’
Hope chose her words carefully. Madam Gina was in all likelihood a classic charlatan. But if she wasn’t, then she had the potential to be extremely dangerous. ‘Did Madam Gina give you any indication of where this death had taken place, or what the person—’
‘Here!’ Rosemarie exclaimed. ‘The death was here at the boutique!’
‘Here at the boutique?’ Hope frowned at her. ‘That isn’t possible.’
‘Have you checked?’ Rosemarie asked.
‘I think that between the three of us,’ Summer responded dryly, ‘we would have noticed a corpse lying on the floor.’
Rosemarie considered a moment. ‘Madam Gina wasn’t specific about the room. So the death could have occurred in an extension of the boutique. The kitchen or the hallway, for example.’
‘Even if we include the entire brownstone,’ Hope said, ‘only Summer and I are here. And we’re both still alive.’
Summer gave a little chuckle in confirmation.
‘What about Olivia?’ Rosemarie pursued. ‘Heaven knows that I don’t wish her any ill, but it’s important that everyone is accounted for.’
‘Gram spent the night at Morris’s house. So any prognostication in relation to the boutique or the brownstone wouldn’t apply to her.’ As she spoke, Hope glanced at the clock on the wall. The investigation into the hammering and the revelation of Madam Gina had taken a good deal of time. She and Summer should be getting dressed and preparing for their day at the festival.
‘I don’t understand it.’ Rosemarie seemed genuinely perplexed. ‘Madam Gina was absolutely certain that there had been a death. She said that she had a vision.’
‘Thankfully, the vision was in error.’ Again, Hope was careful in choosing her words. She didn’t know whether Rosemarie would run back to Madam Gina with a full report of their conversation. ‘Don’t forget that we’re in an old building in the middle of the city’s historic district. Over the years, there have probably been a considerable number of deaths in this area, both natural and unnatural. Maybe Madam Gina’s vision was connected to one of those. It’s easy to confuse the present with the past. Regardless of how skilled or gifted Madam Gina might be, divination is not an exact science.’
‘I guess that makes sense.’ Rosemarie didn’t appear entirely convinced. ‘And it’s better not to have a dead body, I suppose.’
There was another little chuckle from Summer. ‘Yes, it’s always better not to have a dead body.’
‘How did you meet Madam Gina?’ Hope asked Rosemarie.
‘She has a chair at the farmers’ market.’
‘A chair? Not a stall or a table like everyone else?’
‘No, just a chair. She sits on the side of the main aisle and watches as people walk by. If she sees a spirit with someone, trying to communicate, she tells them.’
Summer raised an eyebrow. ‘After cash has exchanged hands, I presume?’
‘Well, she does request a small fee to compensate for her time.’
The eyebrow remained elevated. ‘And without an official stall or table, she doesn’t have to share a portion of that fee with the market for its upkeep and maintenance.’
Rosemarie frowned. ‘That never occurred to me.’
‘But I’m sure that it’s occurred to her,’ Summer remarked.
Hope returned the focus to the more pressing matter before them. ‘You said that you met Madam Gina at the farmers’ market, Rosemarie, but you also said earlier that she told you about the death yesterday evening. The market isn’t open Saturday evening.’
‘I called Madam Gina last night when I had the bad feeling, and she generously invited me to visit her at her house,’ Rosemarie clarified. ‘She had given me her number one of the times that we chatted at the market.’
‘And did any of those chats happen to include a mention of Summer, or me, or the boutique?’
‘Of course! I told her that Percy and I love coming to your shop – and how good you are at palmistry and reading the Tarot, and all about Summer’s tinctures and teas, and that you’ve given talks on crystals and semi-precious stones …’ Rosemarie might have continued, but in her zeal, she ran out of breath.
Hope was thoughtful. That explained how Madam Gina knew about them. She had listened closely to Rosemarie’s stories and then recited them back to her, pretending to have known all along. It was a rudimentary deceptive practice. But that didn’t explain why the woman had claimed to have a vision of a death at the boutique. Perhaps she was trying to make herself important through her ostensible prophecies. Or maybe she was hoping to convince Rosemarie of the extent of her supposed gifts so that Rosemarie would write her a large check to summon the spirit of dear departed Bruno, possibly multiple times with multiple checks. Hope was about to give Rosemarie a warning to be cautious before engaging too many of Madam Gina’s services, but she was interrupted by the singing of the wind chimes above the front door of the shop, signaling a new arrival.
‘Hello?’ The door, which had been left ajar after Rosemarie’s entrance, opened further. ‘Is anybody here?’
‘Sorrel!’ Summer exclaimed in surprise.
Sorrel Packard of Sorrel’s Sachets stepped from the sidewalk into the doorway. She was dressed in the same eclectic fashion as when they had met her the day before: a multicolored patchwork skirt, zebra-print smock top, and a jaunty mocha beret set on top of her ginger hair. A bulging canvas tote bag was slung over each shoulder.
She waved at them in greeting. ‘I hope it’s all right that I popped in without giving you any advance notice of my coming. I was on my way to the festival, and your store was only a short detour.’
‘Pop in any time. No notice required,’ Summer replied cheerfully. ‘But isn’t it a while before the festival opens?’
‘I want to get there early,’ Sorrel explained. ‘I left the booth in somewhat of a mess yesterday evening. And I need to check on the little beasts next door to make sure that they haven’t finished off Amethyst’s chocolate bowls and decided to march over to me looking for their next meal.’
Not understanding the reference, Rosemarie’s brow furrowed. ‘The little beasts next door?’
‘An invasion of ants, at the booth next to mine.’ Sorrel was apparently perceptive enough to realize that she had walked into the middle of a conversation that went far beyond ordinary neighborhood gossip, because she added, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve come at a bad moment. I didn’t mean to interrupt.’
‘You aren’t interrupting at all,’ Hope told her. On the contrary, she welcomed the diversion. The discussion of Madam Gina had not only run its course, but it was turning increasingly awkward, particularly since it wasn’t clear whether Rosemarie continued to believe in the woman’s alleged vision of a dead body at the boutique. Sorrel’s arrival was the perfect excuse to move off the topic permanently. ‘But you have reminded Summer and me that we need to begin getting ready for the festival ourselves.’
Summer caught her sister’s hint and took it a step further by gently encouraging Rosemarie’s departure. ‘If you go to the festival today, Rosemarie, you have to stop by our booth. And you must bring Percy along! We’ll be sure to have plenty of his favorite treats on hand.’
Sorrel responded to the prompt before Rosemarie.
‘I won’t keep you,’ she said. ‘But I will give you this before I leave.’ Reaching into one of her tote bags, she pulled out a small plastic pot. It held fresh black dirt and a short green stalk with two diminutive leaves.
‘The pineapple sage!’ Summer exclaimed, eagerly taking the pot from Sorrel. ‘Oh, it looks wonderfully healthy.’
