Rose folded her hands over the top of her pink cane and said, “What seems to be the problem here?”

  I explained, and she said, “Very well. Lily, fetch the master key ring, please.”

  I went into the kitchen and got the keys down from the hook.

  Edna was putting away clean dishes. “He hasn’t come down?”

  “No, and his wife might have a point. Guy didn’t look in all that great shape to me.”

  “Call me if you need anything.”

  Back in the dining room, I lifted the keys to show everyone I had them. “If you all wait here, I’ll do a quick check and be right back. Which room?”

  “Two oh one,” Greg said.

  I would have preferred to go alone, but Sophia, Greg, Ivan, and Dave all followed me. From the back of the procession, I could hear Rose and Regina discussing the prospects for the weather tomorrow—the day of the wedding.

  Robert the Bruce charged ahead of us, and we all climbed the stairs.

  I tapped lightly on the door of room 201. “Excuse me, Mr. Reynolds, I’m sorry to bother you. It’s Lily Roberts here. Mrs. Campbell’s granddaughter. Can I speak to you for a moment, please.”

  Silence.

  “Ralph!” Sophia shouted. “I’ve had enough of your nonsense. Open this door, this minute.”

  Regina stepped forward and rapped firmly on the door with her own cane. “Ralph!”

  “Stop that, Grandma,” Greg said. “We don’t want to have to pay for damage to the door. Let Lily handle it.”

  Regina harrumphed, but she stepped away to stand next to Sophia without another word.

  I desperately hoped Ralph Reynolds hadn’t snuck a late-night visitor into his room and was now trying to stuff her into the closet.

  I put my ear against the door but could near no sounds of closet-stuffing, or anything else, coming from within. I knocked again, much louder this time. “I’m coming in, sir.” I put the key in the lock, turned it, pushed the door open a crack, and peered cautiously in.

  This room was one of the smallest we had, with space for nothing more than a double bed and a small dresser. The bathroom featured a shower stall, rather than a full bath. As were all the guest rooms at Victoria-on-Sea it was decorated as it might have been in Queen Victoria’s day, with red and gold wallpaper, a red carpet, and heavy drapes tied back with gold rope. The carved wooden headboard and matching dresser were not antiques but mass-produced imitations. Two prints of red-jacketed riders mounted on badly painted horses hung on the walls. We advertised this room as having a garden view, meaning it didn’t look out over the water. Our best, and most expensive, rooms overlook the bay and some of them have private balconies.

  Ralph Reynolds lay on his back on top of the bed. He was fully dressed, having taken off only his shoes. His arms were spread to one side, and his head turned away from me, facing the window. An overturned liquor bottle was on the night table next to him, and an upturned glass lay on the carpet half under the bed.

  I wasn’t entirely surprised at finding him like that, so I was able to recover my wits quickly, and I tried to block the view of the press of people behind me. In that, I failed. Greg shoved the door fully open, and he and Ivan charged past me. Sophia screamed. Regina yelled, “What’s happening? Get out of my way, you stupid girl, and let me through.”

  “Rose,” I said, “see to the ladies.” I ran into the room and slammed the door shut behind me.

  Greg was bent over his father, shaking the man, while Ivan stood in place, frozen in shock. Ralph’s head rolled back. He stared up at us, unblinking and unmoving.

  Ivan swore.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.

  Chapter 7

  Rose managed to convince Sophia and Regina to accompany her to the drawing room and take seats there while we waited for the authorities to arrive.

  Ralph must have died some hours ago; his sons and I could do nothing for him now. After being told the ambulance was on its way, I left Greg and Ivan to wait with their father and went downstairs. Dave, pale-faced, had fallen into a crouch against the door to the room across the hall.

  “Is everything all right?” One of the guests, a tall, thin middle-aged man, dressed for the day in hiking gear, called to me from the door to room 104. He had a trail map of the area in hand.

  “A guest has . . . taken ill. An ambulance has been called. Please, sir, go about your day.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Is there anything we can do?” A woman peeked over his shoulder. Same age, also thin, and also about to set out for a hike along the cliffs.

  “No, thank you. If you’ll excuse me.”

  I left them to their curiosity and went into the drawing room. “I am so sorry for your loss,” I said.

  Sophia wept softly. Regina’s small dark eyes were fixed on the other woman, and the look on her face was not a nice one.

  Edna came in behind me, carrying a laden tea tray. “Rose caught me as I was leaving.” She put the tea on a side table. For once Edna had brought Rose a cup also. Rose gave her a warm smile in thanks.

  “Tea?” Rose asked.

  Regina said, “No, thank you.” Sophia said nothing. Edna threw me a question and I said, “I’ve called the . . . authorities. They might want coffee or something.”

  “I’ll see to it.”

  Rose poured herself a cup of tea and added a splash of milk from the small jug provided.

  I heard sirens, heading our way, and went to the windows to see a police car making the turn into the driveway, followed by an ambulance.

  “I’ll let them in,” I said. “And . . . uh . . . show them upstairs.”

  Sophia continued to weep, and Regina continued to stare at her with such open hostility it shocked me.

  “Sure you won’t have tea?” Rose asked again. Despite the circumstances, I smiled to myself. Tea: an Englishwoman’s solution to every difficult situation.

  As I stepped into the hall, Regina spoke for the first time. “I trust you realize this doesn’t change anything between us, Sophia. You will not be getting my son’s share of my income.”

  * * *

  Simon came at a run when he saw the ambulance and police cruiser turn into our driveway. He’d been digging in a flower bed. Sand was in his hair; dirt covered the knees of his overalls, and his heavy gloves were shoved into a pocket.

  He was at the bottom of the steps, watching, when I opened the door. “He’s upstairs,” I said to the medics. I’d told the 911 operator I believed the man was dead.

  Simon threw me a questioning look.

  “Can you give Edna a hand, please, Simon. She made tea but someone might want coffee. Take the new banana bread out of the freezer and slice it. It won’t be frozen yet.”

  He gave me a sharp nod and headed down the hallway without a word, and I led the way upstairs. When we reached the second floor, I pointed toward room 201. I’d shut the door behind me when I slipped out, and all was quiet. “The man’s sons are with him.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” one of the medics said. A police officer had come with them and they went into the room.

  Through the window at the top of the landing, I saw a second police car pull up to the front of the house. When I reached the bottom of the stairs to offer to show the newest arrivals the way, Regina Reynolds came out of the drawing room. She stood straight and stiff, head up, facing forward, her age-marked hands clenching her cane. Her eyes were not wet and she showed no sign of crying.

  “I wish to be with my son,” she said.

  Officer Jocelyn Bland, whom I knew from other times the police had been called here, was next to enter the house. “Ms. Roberts. Everything okay here?”

  “Thank you, yes,” I said. “Your colleague and the medics are upstairs.”

  We turned at the sound of footsteps to see Greg coming down the stairs. “Ivan’ll go with Dad to the hospital. I need to call Hannah. Grandma, can I take you to your room? You should lie down.”

  “I am not going to my room to be put to bed in the middle of the day, like a misbehaved child,” Regina snapped.

  “What’s happening?” Sophia clutched a linen handkerchief, trimmed with pink lace, to her face. Rose hovered in the doorway behind her.

  Regina took one step toward Officer Bland. At barely five feet tall, she had to crane her neck to stare into the young woman’s face. “You will want to call your supervisors, Officer. My son was in perfect health, and more than one person had reason to want to see the end of him. They may begin by questioning this . . . lady here.” She pointed to Sophia.

  Rose sucked in a breath. Edna was coming down the hallway with a tray of coffee things and she froze in her tracks. Simon, following with the banana bread and a small plate of butter, almost ran into her.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying, Grandma.” Greg reached for the older woman’s arm, but she snatched it away. “I’ll help you to your room.”

  “I know perfectly well what I’m saying, Gregory. Your mother has been wanting to be rid of him for years, and finally she did it.”

  “Please ignore my mother-in-law, Officer.” Sophia tried to sound unconcerned, as though she were brushing off the comment, but she couldn’t hide the waver in her voice or the touch of fear that flashed across her perfectly put-together face. “She’s been addled for years. Age as well as alcohol will do that. My husband was not in perfect health, as she put it; he suffered a heart attack a year ago, and his doctor was not happy with his progress. Particularly as he refused to give up his odious cigars, never mind his own serious drinking habit.”

  “Nothing was wrong with his heart,” Regina insisted. “It wasn’t a heart attack, it was indigestion. A bad case of heartburn. What’s the world coming to if a man can’t enjoy a cigar and a glass of whiskey at the end of a hard day of providing for his family?”

  “I don’t think we need to get into that now,” Greg said.

  “If Ralph told you that, he lied,” Sophia said.

  Greg hesitated, looking between his mother and his grandmother. The two women faced each other, faces set, backs stiff. I could almost see years, likely decades, of mutual antagonism swirling between them.

  I threw a helpless look at my own grandmother. From upstairs came the sound of footsteps, and one of the medics appeared, followed by Dave, the best man. They glanced between us, picking up on the tension. “I’m going out to the truck,” the medic said.

  “Ivan’s going to stay with your dad,” Dave said to Greg. “Everything okay here?”

  “Yeah,” Greg lied.

  “Need a hand, mate?” Simon asked the medic.

  “If you could clear this hallway,” Officer Bland said, “that would be good.”

  “Certainly,” Rose said. “Edna, you brought coffee, what a brilliant idea. And Simon has some of Lily’s marvelous baking. Shall we take seats and get out of these nice people’s way?”

  No one moved.

  “Greg,” I said. “If you’d like some privacy to call Hannah, you’re welcome to use the dining room. Has anyone contacted McKenzie yet? Sophia?”

  Sophia blinked. “McKenzie? No. Oh, dear. She said she was going for a stroll in the gardens. Did you see her, young man?”

  “Yeah.” Simon shifted uncomfortably. “She wanted to chat, but I had . . . uh . . . things to do. I gave her directions to the stairs leading to the beach.”

  “Get a move on, everyone,” Officer Bland said. “We need to clear this hallway.”

  At that, they began to move. Greg went into the dining room, pulling out his phone. Edna and Simon carried their trays into the drawing room, and Rose fussed about, in a very unRoselike way, ensuring her guests were comfortably settled.

  Which they most definitely were not.

  Regina sat in Rose’s favorite chair. Robbie looked as though he was about to leap into her lap, and then he wisely changed his mind and slipped away to hide under the big circular table at the center of the room.

  Seeing her place usurped, Rose hesitated before lowering herself to perch awkwardly on the edge of the couch.

  Dave took a chair, looking as uncomfortable as the rest of them.

  Sophia stood at the windows, looking out. “Officer, I’ll accompany my husband to the hospital. When it’s time.”

  Bland was young and she had an unfortunate tendency to blush at inappropriate times. She turned various colors now. “I don’t know if that will be possible, ma’am. I’m sorry, but I don’t know when that’s going to happen, and I can’t forget what this other lady said.”

  “I told you,” Sophia snapped. “My mother-in-law gets confused.”

  “I stand by what I said,” Regina insisted.

  “What’d she say?” Dave asked no one in particular.

  I truly hate being involved in other people’s problems. I looked around the room. Everyone grieves in different ways, but Regina didn’t seem to be grieving the death of her son at all. Maybe she was in shock and the sharp pain of loss would come later. Sophia had initially wept, but now she seemed more intent on refuting her mother-in-law’s accusations. Perhaps immediate concerns had taken precedence in her mind.

  Greg slipped quietly into the room. “I told Hannah and Jenny what’s happened and they’re coming over.”

  “Why?” Sophia asked.

  Greg blinked. “Why? Because this concerns them, too.”

  “Coffee?” Rose asked brightly. “Edna, please help our guests. I’ll have a refill of my tea while you’re at it. Milk and two sugars, please.”

  I indicated to Officer Bland that I wanted to speak to her privately and led the way into the hallway. I shut the door behind us. “Are you going to call the detectives?”

  “I have to, Ms. Roberts. The older woman made an accusation.”

  “I’m not trying to stop you,” I said. “Rather, I think you should. Not that I’m saying there’s anything to what she said, but this is supposed to be a wedding party. The taller young man, the one who made a phone call, is the son of the . . . man upstairs. He’s getting married on Saturday, tomorrow, but the tension between them all has been noticeable.” I thought about the headless doll; the nighttime conversation I’d overheard between Ralph and Greg; the silent figure watching from the shadows.

  Chapter 8

  Fortunately, it was another glorious summer day and most of the other B & B guests had headed out for the day before the commotion started.

  Watching a body being removed under a sheet is never good for one’s holiday mood.

  When Marybeth and Cheryl arrived for work, they’d seen the vehicles parked in front of Victoria-on-Sea and called me to ask what was happening and if I needed anything.

  I told them I’d be in late, but I’d done enough prep last night they should be able to open as usual.

  Jenny and Hannah soon arrived, and Greg and Hannah were walking together in the garden. Jenny declined to join the others in the drawing room and took a seat on the veranda.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked her. “Tea, coffee?”

  “No, thank you.” She gave me a tight smile. Her eyes were dry, but the redness in them told me she’d been crying earlier. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose heartily.

  “Had you known Mr. Reynolds for long?” I asked, just to be polite.

  “A long time indeed,” Jenny replied. “It was none other than Ralph himself who introduced me to my late husband. Max, Hannah’s father.”

  “Oh. That’s . . . uh . . . interesting. I didn’t realize . . .” I edged toward the door. Greg had told me Max and Ralph had once been friends, but he hadn’t mentioned that detail. “If you need anything, my grandmother will be around all day, and I’ll be up at the tearoom if not here.”

  “Thank you.” Jenny looked out over the garden. Hannah and Greg were holding hands, walking slowly, their heads close together. As we watched, Hannah stopped to admire a bush bursting with yellow roses. “We were close. Once,” Jenny said, more to herself than to me. “Ralph and I. His family and mine. Things . . . changed between us, and we stopped being friends. Strange sometimes, isn’t it, how life can come full circle. I worked at a pharmacy in the town where we lived, and I was engaged to Ralph for a short while. Max was an executive at Reynolds Tools. I met him at a company party I went to with Ralph. And . . . well, I broke it off with Ralph shortly after. He didn’t take it well. Even more so when Max and I got engaged. Things got tense, to say the least, at the company and Max soon quit. He found a job managing a hardware store. He liked it a lot better than working for—more like trying to control—the mercurial Ralph and his headstrong mother. Small towns can be tight and it’s hard to break out of a circle of friends and acquaintances. Even more so, as in his new position, Max still did a lot of business with Reynolds Tools. Ralph carried a lot of anger against not only Max but me. I did my best to stay out of his way. Him and Sophia. He married Sophia soon after our engagement ended.”

  “Small town?” I asked. “I thought you were from Boston.”

  “Boston area. When Max died, I had to sell the house, and Hannah and I moved to Lowell, where I still live. We lost touch with the Reynolds family. Until now. Strange how things work out sometimes, isn’t it?” she said. “Greg and Hannah, being together. Ralph didn’t approve, you know. He didn’t think my daughter was good enough for his son.” She laughed without humor. “Once, he would have wanted my daughter to be his daughter. No, that’s not quite right. It was more, I believe, he didn’t want Max Hill’s daughter to marry Greg. Poor Ralph. Such a dreadful waste. All of it. The years of anger. Leading to nothing but a sad death on what should have been a joyous occasion for both our families.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. This was none of my business, but Jenny seemed to need someone to talk to, as though she wanted to hear her thoughts expressed out loud.

  Two cars came down the highway, slowed, and pulled into our driveway. The first was a taxi, the second a plainclothes NAPD vehicle I recognized.

  The taxi pulled up to the steps, and Karen, one of the bridge players, paid the driver and got out. She was alone. She hesitated at the bottom of the steps, watching the police car park and two people get out of the car.