End of the Lane Read online

  “I get that you might not even have a job here, but you could at least wait until Sebastian makes up his mind. This is a lovely town. We have a lot to offer. I’m sure you have friends and family back home, but here…” Faith visibly swallowed. “Forget I said anything. I’m… I’m not any good with sudden changes and I’ve had more than my share this week.” Faith slumped down. “I’m… I’m going to be sorry to see you go. And what will happen to Doyle?”

  Doyle pricked up his ears and whined.

  “Faith, you’re scaring Doyle.”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Clearly, we can’t compete with a big city newspaper.”

  Abby sighed. “If you must know, I hadn’t even given it any thought. I only printed that out because I needed to hold it in my hands.” Abby shrugged. “Coming here took a lot of courage. I know I was lucky to be offered this job. The timing—” She stooped down and gave Doyle a scratch under his chin. “It’s a long story and I’ve put it all behind me.”

  “But now you’re over whatever happened and you’re ready to go back?” Faith asked.

  Abby gave a slow shake of her head. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

  “I guess you want time to think about it.”

  Abby nodded.

  “And I guess that’ll have to do for now.” Faith gave her a wobbly smile and turned to her computer screen. “Remember I told you I’d catalogued everything in the office? Well, Dermot kept copies of every editorial he wrote. About twenty years ago, he was involved in an investigative piece and was responsible for uncovering a scam at a chemical plant. They were dumping toxic waste straight into the river. Anyhow, Dermot got all his information from a whistle blower.”

  The whistle blower’s identity remained protected, Faith went on to say, but according to her research Felicia Williams had worked at that chemical plant during the time of the cover-up.

  “You think she was the whistle blower?” Abby asked.

  “There’s only one way to find out. You’ll have to ask her.”

  Abby put it at the top of her to-do list for the next day. “I think we’ve done enough for today. How about we go grab a coffee,” Abby suggested.

  As they made their way to Joyce’s Café, Abby told Faith about the poisoned Lamington and her encounter with June Laurie. “Doyle is actually a great guard dog.” He looked up at her and gave her a doggie grin.

  Faith sighed. “You should at least come to our movie night. We’ll either throw you a farewell party or give you a proper welcome by inducting you into our girls’ movie night club.”

  Abby wished she could put her at ease, but if push came to shove, she’d have to be practical. After all, she too had bills to pay.

  The café was doing its usual brisk business but they managed to get a table. Moments later, Joyce joined them.

  “I hear you might be leaving us,” Joyce said.

  Abby looked at Faith who shrugged. “Sorry. When I saw the contract, I felt bereft and had to talk to someone so I called Joyce and she told me not to jump to conclusions.”

  “I’ve already told everyone you’re coming to our movie night,” Joyce said. “Am I going to have to call them all again and say you’ve changed your mind?”

  “That depends,” Abby said, the edge of her lip lifting.

  Joyce’s neat eyebrows curved slightly. “On?”

  “What movie we’re watching.”

  Joyce gave her a nod of approval. “I already told you, it’s The Great Gatsby.”

  “Then I’ll be there.”

  “Good, that’s settled. Now, what will you have?”

  “An Easy Rider espresso, please.”

  “Cake?”

  “No thanks. I had Lamingtons earlier, and I’m happy to say I survived to tell the tale.”

  Faith checked her watch. “I’ll have the same. We have Dermot’s wake to go to.”

  As they drunk their coffees they watched a parade of people streaming toward the pub.

  “It’s already started,” Joyce said. “Everyone wants a chance to go into the pub and pay their respects. I suspect it’s going to be a long night.” She turned to Faith. “Have you picked a costume for our movie night?”

  Faith nodded. “I found the most dazzling beaded dress complete with a headband. I’m coming as a flapper.”

  “I’m bringing a couple of bottles of champagne so we can have a proper toast to Dermot.”

  Faith rubbed her hands. “Joyce has excellent taste in champagne and is quite extravagant. What are we drinking?”

  “It’s a special night. Perrier Jouët Belle Époque. I raided Mitch’s cellar and he let me have them at cost.”

  Faith smiled at Abby. “We might live in the sticks, but we still indulge in fine French champagne.”

  “What should I bring?” Abby asked.

  “Yourself and Doyle.” Joyce got up to place their orders. “You can’t leave him behind.”

  Abby worried her bottom lip. “Does he have to dress up too?”

  “You could get him a little bow tie,” Faith suggested. “That might look cute on him.”

  Abby caught sight of Doyle’s eyebrows quirking up and laughed. “I swear he understands everything we say.”

  “Of course, he does. He’s a smart doggie and one of the main reasons why you should stay.”

  “Really? The expensive French champagne already did the trick!” It would be good to kick back and relax, meet some new people, watch a movie…

  * * *

  “IT’S PACKED TO THE RAFTERS,” Faith said as they made their way inside the pub. People had spilled out onto the sidewalk and beyond. “This is turning into a street party. Dermot would have loved it.”

  “He was certainly admired by everyone.” Abby saw Mitch weaving his way around people to serve drinks. She then caught sight of a mop of red hair in the far corner and assumed that was his sister, Eddie. Markus had staked his place by the fireplace and looked more animated than Abby had seen him since arriving. It seemed everyone had a story to tell about Dermot.

  “There’s Sebastian,” Faith pointed toward the bar.

  Abby hugged Doyle against her chest. She wouldn’t put him down for fear he might be trampled on.

  As she moved through the crowd, Abby couldn’t help being surprised at the number of people who smiled and acknowledged her. In reality, she’d only been living in the town for a few short days, but as Faith had said, she’d made a splash from the start.

  When she reached the bar, the one person she hadn’t expected to find there made eye contact with her.

  Felicia Williams.

  She stood a couple of feet away at the end of the bar with her sister beside her. Dressed in a powder blue jacket with her neat bob tucked back, Abby thought she resembled the film star, Lauren Bacall, albeit, an unhappy one. She really should do something about her downturned mouth, Abby couldn’t help thinking as she gave the woman a nod of acknowledgment.

  Abby couldn’t understand why she’d come into town. Felicia wouldn’t care what people thought of her, so she wouldn’t feel pressured into publicly acknowledging Dermot’s death.

  Most people attended funerals and wakes out of respect for the deceased and their family. Some found comfort in being with other mourners, sharing their loss, exchanging anecdotes…

  Had Felicia’s hard exterior crumbled? Despite the dim light in the pub, Abby could see her eyes looked slightly puffy as if from lack of sleep. She couldn’t approach her again. Couldn’t press her for more information. Not today.

  Abby frowned. This really didn’t make sense… and then, suddenly, it did.

  Abby searched for Faith but couldn’t see her anywhere. Faith had said Dermot had been old-fashioned and had never discussed his personal relationships. He’d talked about other people without any qualms, he’d mentioned them in his journals and, according to Faith, Dermot had talked to everyone. Everyone except Felicia Williams. At least not in public. Abby imagined this had been her choice, because sh
e valued her privacy and had come here for peace and quiet.

  Dermot had never mentioned her in his journals, and now Faith had found a possible connection between them. Had Felicia Williams been the whistle blower at the chemical plant she’d worked at. Had Faith found the missing link?

  The more Abby thought about it, the more convinced she became. Dermot had met Felicia years before. That didn’t bring Abby any closer to finding the killer but it unraveled the mystery of why Dermot had never mentioned Felicia.

  Turning, she saw Joshua entering the pub. He waved to her. She waved back and they both shared a moment of indecision, their shoulders lifting and dropping. Abby laughed as they both began simultaneously moving toward each other.

  A thought swept through her, but then Joshua spoke and she lost the thread…

  “Quite a turnout,” the detective said and gave Doyle a scratch under his chin.

  “This might sound odd, but I feel privileged to be here.” A feeling of deep regret rose inside her. She wished she’d had the opportunity to become better acquainted with Dermot.

  Joshua nudged her arm and guided her toward the main entrance. “How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside. “Are you experiencing any residual effects from the Lamington?”

  “Thank goodness, no. Although I might give them a miss for a while.” She set Doyle down and remembering her visit to Thelma, she told him about it. “I could never have imagined someone like her living in this small town. Eccentric comes to mind.” And perhaps a little lonesome. “I can’t decide if she misses her old life or if she’s happy reminiscing. Her life has shrunk from traveling and seeing the world to sitting by the window and staring at—” Abby looked down the street.

  “You’ve just had a sparkly idea.”

  Abby gave a small nod but didn’t reply. There were too many thoughts weaving around her mind.

  Thelma had come here to settle her grandparents’ estate and then she’d decided to make Eden her home. Both she and Felicia enjoyed their privacy. What else did they have in common?

  Abby told Joshua about the connection Faith had made between Dermot and Felicia.

  “Does that mean you suspect her?” he asked.

  “No, but from the start I asked Faith about the special people in Dermot’s life. According to Faith, Dermot had been discreet. If he’d been having an affair with Felicia, no one would have known about it.” Abby hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “She’s inside. Why would someone who insists on keeping herself apart from everyone suddenly want to join in?” Abby frowned. “He should have asked again…”

  “Who?”

  “Sorry, my mind is racing. That’s what Thelma whispered. He should have asked again. When she first arrived here Dermot invited her over for a drink and she turned him down. Now she regrets it… or maybe she’s been regretting it all this time.” Abby looked down at Doyle. “Come on, boy.” She took off at a trot.

  “Where are we going?” Joshua asked. “Hey, wait.”

  “All this time I’ve kept saying Thelma Harrison only saw me going inside Dermot’s house. How could someone intent on keeping a vigil on Poe Lane have missed seeing the killer?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “There’s definitely something Thelma is not telling us.” He should have asked again, Abby thought. “Thelma told me she fell in love with the town.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Joshua asked.

  “The pregnant pause before she specified she’d fallen in love with the town.” They turned into Poe Lane and slowed their steps. “Do you hear that?”

  “Music.”

  “It’s the same music I heard playing at Dermot’s house.”

  As Joshua knocked on the front door, Abby peered in through the window and gasped.

  “What?”

  Abby couldn’t answer so she tugged his arm and pointed at the window.

  “Oh hell,” he said. The detective acted quickly, calling for police backup and emergency services.

  Seeing him about to break the door down, Abby screeched. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Didn’t you see the teapot next to her?”

  “What about it?” It took a second for the meaning to sink in.

  Abby nodded. “She’s committed suicide. You can’t go in there. There’ll be fumes.”

  “But what if she’s still alive?”

  The soundtrack finished. They both stared at each other.

  Growling under his breath, Joshua picked up a garden rock and, telling Abby to stand back, threw it at the window. Glass shattered as he rushed toward the door and slammed into it.

  Abby didn’t think the broken window would be enough to clear the room of all fumes.

  It took a couple of tries but the old door hinges finally gave way and the door slammed open, but it was already too late.

  EPILOGUE

  ABBY SLUMPED DOWN ON THE bed and stared at her suitcase. Doyle came to sit beside her. “I can’t spend the rest of my life living out of a suitcase. She kicked the lid closed. “How do you feel about calling the pub home for a while longer?”

  Doyle gave her a doggie grin and wagged his tail.

  “Come on. Let’s go to the Gazette. Faith will want to know we’re staying.”

  Striding into the small-town newspaper, Abby drew in a deep breath and smiled. The office was a flurry of activity with the phone ringing and people coming in to get their free copy of the Gazette.

  Faith emerged from behind her computer. “Oh, good. You’re here.” She tapped her watch. “And you’re late. I’ve been up since the crack of dawn trying to get this week’s edition out. By the way, thanks for sending in your piece. Dermot would have approved.”

  Her piece! An essay about community spirit and her impressions of the town. Writing it had helped her get through the night.

  After finding Thelma Harrison dead, Abby had sat on the curb to watch while emergency services took over. A couple of men wearing breathing apparatus had gone in to retrieve the body. Joshua had stood by liaising with the police and organizing the clean-up.

  A note had been found. Thelma Harrison’s confession.

  That fatal morning, Thelma had waited for June Laurie to leave the house and had decided to finally pay Dermot a visit. Thelma Harrison had spent years pining for him and regretting her decision to turn down his invitation. She’d spent years watching all those women coming and going, visiting Dermot for afternoon tea. Finally, she’d had enough and had decided to put an end to her misery… by killing Dermot.

  Unable to live with what she’d done, she had decided to join him. If Thelma had survived, she would have been able to plead temporary insanity. In the note, she’d rambled on about all the ghastly stories her husband had told her about his murder cases. She’d thought Dermot had deserved a quicker death doing what he loved doing. Drinking tea.

  Abby remembered wondering how Dermot could have drunk a poisoned cup of tea and had come up with the theory that he might have been groggy from inhaling the fumes.

  She’d been right.

  Thelma had snuck inside the house and had poured the poison in the teapot. Stepping back and watching from the safety of the hallway, she’d waited to see Dermot settling down on his chair and pouring himself a cup of tea. When she’d seen him slumping back, she’d rushed into the sitting room and had put on the music she’d heard playing the first time she’d seen him…

  It had been a crime of passion, after all. Albeit, warped passion.

  Word had spread and everyone attending the wake had made their way to Poe Lane. At one point, Abby had looked up and, seeing Felicia Williams, she’d made a beeline for her.

  “You found him dead before I did,” Abby had said. That first day when she’d made her way to Dermot’s house, she’d bumped into someone. She’d guessed it had been Felicia.

  Felicia Williams had nodded, going on to explain how she’d decided to finally visit Dermot and tell him she wanted their relationship to come o
ut in the open. They had met years before when she’d provided him with vital inside information about the company she’d worked for. They’d been happy and he’d asked her to marry him, but she’d been far too independent and hadn’t seen the need to tie herself down to marriage.

  When Dermot had retired and moved to Eden permanently, Felicia had followed, at first spending weekends at a farm she’d purchased and then, finally moving here to be closer to him. To her chagrin, she’d insisted on maintaining their relationship a secret.

  That morning, when she’d found him dead, she’d been distraught and had fled the house. She knew she should have called the police but explained that by the time she’d reached her car, she’d heard the police sirens and had assumed someone else had raised the alarm.

  When Abby had returned to the pub, it had been well after midnight but she hadn’t been able to sleep and so she’d sat down to write a feature article about the people she’d met since arriving in the small town.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” Faith asked.

  Before she could answer, the front door swung open and Detective Inspector Joshua Ryan strode in carrying a couple of coffees. Setting the coffees down, he dug inside his pocket and produced a doggie biscuit for Doyle.

  “I have a full day ahead full of paperwork,” he explained. “So, I thought I’d swing by and fortify myself with some of Joyce’s coffee.” He smiled at Abby. “So, are the girls giving you a farewell party or a welcome to Eden party tonight?”

  “Oh, thanks for reminding me. I have to drop in on the Eden Thespians and see if they can outfit me with proper attire for the occasion. I hope they have a little bow tie for Doyle.”

  Doyle and Joshua exchanged a male bonding look.

  Joshua handed her a piece of paper.

  “What’s this?” She skimmed through it and gasped. “Really? You were actually serious about doing a background check on me?”

  “Yes, and you’ll be happy to note we’re prepared to overlook that small infraction.”

  Faith jumped to her feet. “Let me see. What infraction? What did she do?”