Murder at the Car Rally Read online

  He had been able to procure items with such ease, Evie had come to believe his story about striking it lucky in the Oklahoma oilfields as something more real that the fictitious cover story it had been intended to be.

  “I think we should abandon the idea of you resuming your duties as my chauffeur.” She gave a firm nod. “There. I’ve made the decision.”

  “And how will I explain my constant presence?”

  He had a point. The dowagers, Sara and Henrietta, had chosen to move out of the manor and into the dower house. So, he couldn’t stay at Halton House, certainly not while she lived there alone.

  Staring straight ahead, she said, “Home, please.” After her hectic overnight stay in London, she found herself looking forward to some peace and quiet.

  Tom changed the subject by asking, “Did you enjoy your day in London?”

  She wanted to tell him all about her horrendous experience but feared she would get an earful of disapproval for allowing someone to kidnap her.

  Deciding to skate around the subject, she said, “I… I met an old friend.” Evie used the term loosely. In their youth, she and Isabel had run in the same social circles so there had been no avoiding Isabel’s little jabs. It seemed some people could not restrain their need to be competitive. And Evie couldn’t think of anyone more competitive than a debutante. Now that Isabel had married… Well, she appeared to be determined to prove she had done better than anyone else. “Isabel Fitzpatrick. We had lunch.”

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And… we talked.” Or, rather, she had listened to the most tedious conversation she’d ever heard about motor vehicles. “Did you know there is a gentleman who goes by the name of Count Zborowski. He’s a racing driver and automobile engineer and has designed a motor car and named it the Chitty-Bang-Bang. He claims it will be the fastest and most successful vehicle to ever race at Brooklands.”

  “That’s a strange conversation to have with your friend. Is she a motor enthusiast?”

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. Her husband races so I suppose she’s trying to take an interest and be supportive.”

  Evie looked out across the fields and saw sheep dotting the landscape and a rider galloping in the distance. All the while, she tried to remember if she’d ever expressed excitement for any of Nicholas’ projects. He’d had many and he’d often talked about them. While she’d listened, she’d never felt the urge to become involved in any way. However, her lack of participation could never be used to measure her affection for him. In fact, two years after his death, she still felt Nicholas would always be the love of her life…

  “Where is Brooklands exactly?” she asked.

  “Not far. About twenty miles away, in Surrey.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Tom shrugged. “I’m sure I had a conversation about it with someone or other at the pub.”

  Evie rolled her eyes. The pub…

  “You cannot possibly continue to live at the Woodridge Arms. I shall ask the dowagers to move back, then no one will be able to question your presence at Halton House.”

  “And will I become your permanent house guest?” He chortled. “I think that will invite remarks about fish smelling.”

  “Nonsense.” Evie looked up and saw Halton House coming into view.

  Her country pile sat in the middle of a large park with the woods in the distance.

  “The house needs more than one person living in it.” She wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet of country living, but sometimes, too much quiet could become predictable and tedious.

  Shading her eyes, she leaned forward. “Am I expecting visitors?”

  “You seem to be and quite a number of them, by the looks of it,” Tom said and slowed down.

  “What are you doing?”

  He gave a small shrug. “That looks like trouble.”

  She had to agree. There appeared to be two… three… make that five motor cars parked in front of the colonnaded entrance to Halton House.

  Squinting her eyes, she thought she could just make out Edgar swinging from one side to the other. If she had to guess, she’d say her butler was trying to contain a situation.

  Evie cleared her throat. “D-drive on.”

  “You don’t sound overly confident.”

  Her eyebrows hitched up. Edgar now appeared to be flapping his arms.

  Brushing his hand across the steering wheel, Tom said, “If you want my opinion, I would say that definitely looks like trouble and we should steer clear of it.”

  “But that’s my doorstep.” Sitting back, Evie waved her hand. “I think we’ll have to meet trouble head-on. Drive on, please.”

  Chapter Two

  It is very rude for a hostess to be out when guests arrive - Emily Post

  “Countess Woodridge.” The young man approached Evie oozing charm and exemplary politeness. “I’m Lord Hemsworth. My friends call me Batty.” He proceeded to introduce the rest of the entourage, most of whom had titles with the exception of a few, including a young woman named Unique.

  Title or no title they appeared to have another characteristic in common. They all looked downright bizarre.

  A young man wore a top hat with rabbit ears protruding from it. Another one sported an eyepatch but she caught him lifting it a couple of times, suggesting he used it as nothing more than a decorative piece.

  Lord Hemsworth continued with the introductions, finishing with, “Lark Wainscot and Edward Spencer.”

  Edward Spencer inclined his head. Dressed in a sailor top with a skirt that actually looked like trousers, Lark Wainscot and another young woman who wore a top hat took a bow as if making an appearance on the stage.

  Evie knew her quiet day in the country would have to be postponed.

  Lord Hemsworth continued by explaining, “We were on our way to participate in a car rally and now it seems we have lost one of our members. Last we heard from her, she’d been staying with you.”

  Evie gasped. “Phillipa Brady? Has something happened to her?”

  “No. No. She has simply ended up lost somewhere. I wonder if we might impose on your kindness and rest here a while. We have spent the last two weeks driving all over the southern counties to no avail.”

  “Of course, you are very welcome.” Turning to her butler, Evie said, “Edgar, it seems we have guests for lunch. Could you make the necessary arrangements, please?”

  Tom rounded the roadster. “Are you sure about that?” he murmured. “What do you know about them?”

  “I remember Phillipa mentioning some of them.” Only a few weeks before, Evie had given the young Australian traveler, Phillipa Brady, shelter when her motor car had broken down. She had been on her way to a car rally and now Evie’s unexpected guests had provided the same explanation.

  “I’m going to change out of these clothes. Tom, please keep them company.”

  “You mean, keep an eye on them.”

  “Yes, that too.” Phillipa had told her about taking part in treasure hunts, which sometimes involved looking for objects in manor houses; something that had intrigued Evie at the time. Not so now.

  She strode into the house and made her way up the stairs. Tapping her hand along the banister, she wondered if Phillipa had left something behind… something for the others to find.

  Her attention flitted to every object she encountered along the way as if she were subconsciously taking stock of her possessions and also looking for anything that might appear to be out of place.

  “I think the joke is on me,” she murmured as she strode into her bedroom where she found her maid hard at work. “Caro! I see you have anticipated my needs.”

  Caro had laid out a lovely spring ensemble consisting of an oyster shell gray skirt and a pretty blouse with tiny primroses printed on it.

  “Did you enjoy your stay in London, milady?”

  Sighing, Evie removed her hat and said, “Not as much as I had hoped. I’m afraid my plan to annoy Mr. Winchester backfired on m
e.”

  “How so, milady?”

  Evie rolled her eyes. “Some would say I got my just deserts. As I made my way out of the train station, an old friend saw me. I use the term loosely since we were never that close but we ran in the same circles. Isabel Fitzpatrick reigned supreme in most of them. She has a way about her and I have never quite figured out what it is.” Suffice to say, Evie thought, it took a great deal of patience to be with her.

  “Some people light up the room and that seems to be enough to draw others to them,” Caro said.

  “No, that’s not it. For starters, she is an incessant and at times painful chatterbox. She has an opinion about everything and, let me tell you, her opinions are not always pleasant. She thought I had gone down with the Titanic.”

  Caro gasped. “I hope you set her straight.”

  It took a moment for Caro’s remark to register, when it did, Evie noticed her maid smiling. “Laugh if you must. It wasn’t enough for her to see me in the flesh. She actually had to prove I lived. Look, she left a mark on my arm. I should have her up for assault.”

  “Oh, you have a mark on your other arm too,” Caro observed.

  Evie gasped. “Make that assault and battery. This is where she grabbed me and coerced me to go with her.”

  “I hope you were able to escape her clutches.”

  “I’m afraid not. She has the force of a tornado.” Pushing out a breath, Evie added, “At least I got a nice meal out of it. Although, there is no such thing as a free lunch. I had to listen to her endless prattling about being married to a famous racing car driver and how they travel everywhere.” Evie sat down at her dressing table and cupped her chin in her hand. “And here I am complaining about it all. I believe I’m growing old before my time.”

  Caro smiled. “Did you at least manage to put Tom’s nose out of joint?”

  “I think I did. Although…” Why had she ever bothered?

  The day before, she had woken up feeling quite annoyed at having to telephone Tom at the pub. When she had, he hadn’t been there to take her call. She had felt inconvenienced… and something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I think I should learn to drive.”

  Caro’s eyes widened. “Really? Is that even allowed?”

  “Pardon? Of course, it is. Phillipa drives. Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because you have a chauffeur.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t.”

  “What about Edmonds? He is ever so happy about his new uniform.”

  “Well… I suppose there will be occasions when I’ll need a chauffeur. After all, it wouldn’t look right for Tom to drive the large motor car with me in the back seat.”

  “Why not? He did before.”

  Yes, but everything had changed now…

  “We might play it by ear.” Evie got up and removed her coat.

  “I saw some of your new guests. They look… exuberant.”

  They certainly were. Ever since the war had ended, it seemed people wished to celebrate every moment they lived. The press had labeled them the ‘bright young things’ and then there were the flappers.

  Whatever name the new generation of misfits chose to go by, they all had one trait in common. They all thrived on their desire to flaunt their disdain for acceptable behavior and were quite determined to make their mark in the world by blazing their way through every single day, living for the moment.

  “I like a bit of excitement every now and then but I’m not sure I would fit in with a group of people who thrive on it,” Evie mused. “I would certainly struggle to keep up. There’s a lot to be said for quiet moments of reflection…”

  Caro seemed to find the remark odd. She tilted her head from side to side and said, “You would fare a lot better than I would. I hope they know how to behave.”

  “I have no doubt they do.” But, would they? “There are several titled ladies and gentlemen in the group and the others come from well to-do families. Although, that doesn’t necessarily guarantee they will behave. In any case, they’ll be making their way after luncheon.”

  Evie inspected her hair and adjusted a few wayward locks. She had meant to do something about it in London but Isabel had commandeered all her time. “Any news from the dowagers?”

  Caro nodded. “I didn’t see them myself, but Mrs. Arnold said they spent some time in the attic. Apparently, they’d been looking for a vase.”

  “Did they find it?”

  “I believe they did. The housekeeper said she wrote a list of everything they took. The footmen were kept busy for several hours loading up the pieces of furniture.”

  Evie’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you suppose they want with it all? The dowager house is beautifully furnished.”

  “Are you really asking me, milady?”

  “No, I’m speaking out loud. I suppose I shall have to pay them a visit. Perhaps this is their way of leaving a calling card. I haven’t seen them in over a week. It’s not as if I have been busy… and I’m sure they haven’t really been busy. Or have they?”

  “I believe your curiosity has been piqued.”

  “Yes, you might be right. Only…” she gave Caro an impish smile, “I’m almost afraid to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Chapter Three

  Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days – Benjamin Franklin

  The dower house

  “I hear you had some guests for lunch today,” Henrietta said.

  Evie took a sip of her tea and, finding much delight in the beverage, especially as she could employ it to stall for time, she took another.

  The dowager displayed tremendous patience holding Evie’s gaze for several seconds before applying her eyebrow to gradually make a point.

  Evie watched it rise by increments until she thought it would reach the dowager’s hairline.

  Finally, Evie gave a small nod. “It’s a group of motor car enthusiasts making their way to Portsmouth. They’re quite a jovial lot.”

  “And where do you know them from?”

  Evie looked down at her cup and found it to be empty, which meant she couldn’t use it as a delay tactic. “May I have some more tea, please?”

  “Certainly.”

  Henrietta didn’t move. It seemed her tea came at a price.

  Setting the cup down on the dainty table between them, Evie said, “They mentioned knowing Phillipa. It seems she missed their rendezvous point and they have been searching for her ever since.”

  Henrietta gasped. “Phillipa Brady? Missing?”

  “I had the same reaction but she knows where she is. Or rather… she sent me a note a couple of days ago to thank me for my hospitality. She’s in Northampton.”

  “But that’s in the opposite direction.”

  “Yes, I believe there has been some sort of miscommunication.”

  Henrietta chortled. “So, does anyone know where everyone is supposed to be headed?”

  “It would seem so, yes. I didn’t really ask. I suppose one has to assume they know where they will eventually end up.” Evie looked at the teapot. She knew it would be rude to help herself, at least, in this instance.

  When invited to tea at the dowager’s house, Henrietta insisted on being at the helm. Her butler stood by, the edge of his lip slightly raised. Evie tried to catch his attention but he appeared to be oblivious of his surroundings.

  “Lord Hemsworth is among the party,” Evie said. “I believe you know his grandmama.”

  “Why is it everyone assumes I only know people over a certain age?”

  “I beg your pardon, perhaps he meant his mother.”

  “Oh, no. You’re quite right. I do know Lady Louise. Her brother spent some time in America or the Caribbean. I forget which.”

  Glancing around the pretty drawing room, Evie did a double take. “Is that a new vase?”

  Henrietta barely glanced at it. “No, not really… It’s been in the family for generations. I’m surprised you noticed it.” Henrietta reached for the teapot a
nd tipped it slightly to pour some tea into Evie’s cup, only to stop and say, “So… You bid your guests farewell.”

  That tea couldn’t come soon enough.

  Evie took a deep swallow. “Well…”

  Henrietta tipped the teapot a fraction, enough for a trickle of tea to cascade into the cup.

  “Not exactly.”

  Henrietta set the teapot down. “What do you mean?”

  Evie stared at the teacup and wondered if one sip would be enough.

  “I showed them Phillipa’s letter and, after contacting her at the pub where she’s staying, they decided to try another rendezvous.”

  Henrietta poured another few drops into the cup enticing Evie to add, “Everyone thought it would be easier if Phillipa found her way back to Halton House.”

  That earned her another few drops of tea.

  “Someone suggested meeting her half way, but as they are all headed down south, it really made more sense to wait for her to arrive.”

  Seeing the cup now half full, Evie dug deep and told the dowager about Isabel Fitzpatrick.

  “Can you believe she thought I had perished with the Titanic?”

  That earned her a full cup of tea.

  Brightened by the tidbit, Henrietta exclaimed, “Is she slow-witted?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then she must have been taking a stab at you, my dear. If I had to read into it, I’d say she thinks of you as inconsequential. Or, rather, she is trying to slot you into that box.” Henrietta clicked her fingers. “Out of sight, out of mind. You must pose some sort of threat to her. Were you very good friends with her?”

  Evie smiled. “Before I went down with the ship?”

  Henrietta shivered. “I wouldn’t joke about such matters. Certainly not if you’re planning another trip any time soon.”

  “In truth, I always tried to avoid her. She has this way about her that sets me on edge. On the one hand, she appears to be complimenting you, yet when you think about what she says, you realize she’s just subjected you to a thorough verbal assault.”

  “Well then, you must keep your distance from her,” Henrietta suggested.