Moorecliff Manor was once again calm…
Well, as calm as it could be, given the happy chatter among family who had chosen that bright and sunny morning to have breakfast together in the solarium.
Gone was all evidence from the murder which had taken place right in this very room during the family’s memorial celebration, given last week to celebrate the life of Archibald Moorecliff, Araminta Moorecliff’s late nephew. In its place was a picture of lush serenity with a backdrop out the wide windows that revealed not only sprawling green lawns, but also the memorial garden that Daisy, Archie’s wife, had requested to have put in by the gardener, Yancy, in remembrance of her dear and beloved Archie.
Archie’s daughter, Stephanie Moorecliff, had of course been cleared of all suspicion of wrongdoing in the murder of her great-aunt Shirley Moorecliff—the family’s long-reigning family gossip.
Yancy, the gardener, who had also been under suspicion until the murder weapon was found, had been cleared, too, and now spent a portion of every afternoon instructing Stephanie in matters of horticulture, both outdoors and in the solarium.
Reginald Moorecliff, adorable scamp that he was, seemed to have taken an interest in the Moorecliff family business. Now that Daisy headed up both divisions of Moorecliff Motors—Archibald had left control in her hands—Reggie was never far from her side.
Yes, all was well, Araminta Moorecliff thought as she gazed out at the gardens. Except…
Her two clue-chasing Siamese cats, Arun and Sasha, were sniffing around the hedges. Normally, they would be playing, one of them hunkered down behind a tree trunk or shrub ready to pounce on the other. But right now, it looked like they had a specific task, as if they were sniffing out something…
No. She was just being paranoid, given that two murders had happened here at the house in such a short time. The cats were simply doing what cats do— exploring their environment. Craning her neck to the side to catch one more glimpse of the cats, she reassured herself they weren’t investigating anything unseemly. Thankfully, their tails were down, not straight in the air, which Araminta had come to learn was a sign that something very bad was about to happen… and that something usually had to do with murder.
Araminta relaxed and turned her attention back to the table and her family. Delicious aromas of breakfast came in from a side door, and Araminta’s stomach rumbled. Good grief, she thought, as she slid a hand to her stomach. Her tummy rumbles were becoming almost as loud as her snores.
“Breakfast is served,” Harold, the Moorecliff butler, announced as he came forward to help Araminta with her chair while Reginald seated first his stepmother then his sister, Stephanie. Trinity rolled in a mahogany tray laden with food. It was trimmed in gold with a black-and-gold-marbled top.
Araminta thanked the butler then turned in her seat to give him a second look. Something was different about his appearance this morning. She had noticed the moment he walked into the room. Though things had been delayed a bit after his exam a few weeks ago, his eyeglasses had finally arrived.
“Those glasses suit you to a T, Harold. The bronze rims really enhance your features. Don’t you think so, Daisy?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. I do indeed. They are perfect for you, Harold.” Daisy had turned in her chair and was busy fussing with a bouquet of wildflowers that had been delivered for her the previous afternoon. Roses, Araminta knew from days past, would no doubt arrive today. The flowers had started coming shortly after Archibald’s death: first, the loveliest of roses in every color, then bright bouquets of equally beautiful wildflowers.
Araminta’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked at them, but she said nothing. It was now abundantly clear that someone in the family had acquired a secret admirer.
“They make you look stately, Harold. Quite powerful, in my eyes,” Stephanie said.
Araminta couldn’t help but smile when his cheeks turned color. It was rather precious to see the old fellow still given to blushing over compliments.
Reginald laughed. “Don’t let her sweet-talk you like that, old man. Next thing you know, she’ll have you eating from the tips of her fingers.”
Stephanie made a face, but Reginald ignored it. Instead, he nodded at Harold. “Distinguished is, I believe, the word my sister was looking for, and she is correct, of course. You look very distinguished in your new eyewear, Harold.”
As Trinity moved carefully around the table, placing plates filled with portions of various dishes still steaming from the kitchens in front of each of the Moorecliffs, Araminta snuck another peek outside at the cats. They’d moved over to the edge of the row of tall hydrangeas. They looked excited, tails twitching, but thankfully not up in the air. Phew.
Araminta turned back to her plate.
“Thank you, dear.” She glanced up at Trinity. The poor girl had dark circles under her eyes. She obviously hadn’t been sleeping well. But then, who had? With two murders in the family, so close together, it was a wonder any of them had slept at all.
“Now that he can see what we are doing, we’d best be on our game,” Trinity said, fighting back a yawn. “No more hiding mashed potatoes in your vegetables. Harold will see it now.”
Everyone laughed at the joke.
“In a few weeks, he will be able to hear us too,” Daisy informed everyone, contributing to the friendly ribbing with a gentle smile in Harold’s direction. “Mary told me yesterday they’ve received confirmation on the hearing aids.”
Araminta joined the others in congratulating Harold on the news he would soon get his hearing aids, but as she was about to turn her attention back to her food, movement in the edge of her peripheral vision caught her attention.
Sasha and Arun were strutting back and forth at the edge of the row of hydrangeas, and unfortunately, this time their tails were sticking straight up in the air.
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