Chapter Thirteen
Davidson Funeral Parlor was an old Victorian house with a wide porch and understated gingerbread trim painted in a subtle slate blue and white. Baskets of flowers hung from the ceiling of the porch, and a somber man in a dark suit opened the door for them.
Inside, it was tastefully decorated, as one might expect. One could just barely hear somber music being piped in, and the air was heavy with the cloying scent of flowers.
The front room was filled with flowers, and a lovely bronze urn sat on a table at the front, flanked by two vases with red roses. Araminta was glad that Archie had wanted to be cremated prior so that they didn’t have to mourn over the casket.
The pastor from the church Daisy and Archie favored was already there, and the family took their seats while he said a few words about Archie and offered up a prayer.
When he was done, the family exchanged remembrances of Archie. It was just the five of them—Daisy, Bernard, Araminta, Stephanie, and Reggie—which made it more personal and intimate. Perhaps Archie had envisioned it that way, but Araminta doubted that he would have envisioned that one of the people exchanging those remembrances could be his killer.
Bernard got a little misty-eyed as he hugged them all after the service before departing for his car.
Daisy handled the whole thing very well, not breaking down at all until they were done and about to leave.
It was Stephanie’s whispered “I wish Mother were here” as she and Reginald quietly followed their stepmother and aunt back to the front of the building that seemed to be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. Right there in the hallway, Daisy halted then stopped, her hands over her face and her shoulders shaking from silent tears.
“Oh dear,” Araminta said. She put a hand on Daisy’s shoulder and patted it. “There, there, darling. It’s all right. You’re doing admirably well thus far. Only a little longer, and we’ll be home.”
Daisy took a shuddering breath. “I didn’t realize it would all be so difficult.”
Araminta nodded sympathetically and did more patting.
“I—I only wanted us to be a real family, Araminta. But Stephanie… and Reginald… and now Archibald is gone, and I feel so alone, but—” She looked up at the children, her eyes tear-filled and red from crying. “We only have each other now.”
Stephanie’s lips pressed together tightly, and her chin quivered, but she lowered her gaze. Reginald merely stood beside Stephanie, working his jaw for a moment while he seemed to ponder the situation. Finally, he released his sister’s hand and went to Daisy. He hugged her then patted her back consolingly.
“We do have each other, Daisy. We have each other,” he repeated, this time pinning his sister with slightly narrowed eyes, as if daring her to deny it. “We are Moorecliffs, and we can do this. We shall do it. Together.”
The sound of boot heels clicking on the tiled floor followed by the uncomfortable sound of the clearing of throats made Reginald lift his head. Araminta turned to see who had joined them and sighed. Detective Hershey.
“Ms. Moorecliff. Araminta,” he said, nodding to each of them in turn. “Is everything alright?”
Reginald surprised her by speaking up. “Of course, Detective. My stepmother is a little distraught. She has lost her husband, after all.”
Araminta thought she saw a slight flush on the inspector’s cheeks for a moment. He nodded in deference to Reggie, then his eyes landed on Stephanie. His gaze turned inquisitive, and Araminta realized he hadn’t yet met this member of the Moorecliff family.
“Ivan Hershey, this is my great-niece, Stephanie. Stephanie, Detective Hershey. He’s leading the investigation into your father’s untimely death.”
Ivan stepped forward, extending his hand. “My pleasure, Miss Moorecliff, though regrettable is the circumstance.”
For the first time since she’d arrived yesterday, Araminta saw Stephanie smile. “Still, it’s lovely to meet you, Detective Hershey.”
Araminta’s eyebrows rose at her obvious discomfiture. Clearing her throat for attention, she said, “Hershey, we were on our way out. Perhaps you could walk with us. I have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Hershey said then nodded to the two officers who had accompanied him into the building. “If you will please excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll only be a second.”
He waited for Araminta and her family to move then followed them out the door.
Outside, Araminta turned to him. “I’m curious about the autopsy report, Hershey. Just how did the poison get into my nephew’s system?”
She needed clarification because she wasn’t certain whether the poison was in his food or in the wine.
Ivan turned his attention from Stephanie, who had followed her stepmom and her brother and was waiting to get into the car. “The coroner established that there were no physical particles of anything containing the convallatoxin in Mr. Moorecliff’s stomach, so the poison had to have been distilled somehow.”
Hmmm. Which must mean they’d found no leaves or petals from the flowers, Araminta decided. Then she recalled having read that the water could become toxic in a vase filled with lily of the valley. Whoever had poisoned Archie must have used the water from the vase of flowers. It must have been in his wine. But which vase? And who, exactly, had done the deed? Would it have been Trinity or Harold? And what on earth had they done with either the vase or the goblet? “Thank you, Detective. I have one question more, if I may. Have you determined yet who is responsible for my nephew’s death?”
She peered at him closely, but he held his speculative secrets—if, indeed, he had any—with what Araminta felt was remarkable aplomb.
“We have a few leads we’re still investigating, Ms. Moorecliff,” he said as he glanced at Daisy. Or was it Stephanie? Araminta wasn’t sure. “But now that we have obtained a copy of your nephew’s will, we can add at least a few more.”
Araminta saw Daisy’s eyes widen at his statement, just before she turned and slid into the car. Curious, she thought. Was Daisy worried the detective now found her part in Archie’s death suspicious? “Thank you, Hershey. If you discover anything new, please do give us a call.”
Chapter Fourteen
On the ride home, Daisy had mentioned she had a few calls to make to the investors of Moorecliff Motors before she could retire to her room for a rest. But when they arrived back at the Manor, Bernard was already in Archie’s study, with Arun and Sasha pacing by the door.
“You’re home early,” he said, immediately vacating his brother’s chair the moment Daisy stepped inside the room. “Well, don’t mind me.” He clasped his hands together while he moved toward the door. “I just finished what I needed to do and will leave the room to you.”
“And what was it that needed to be done?” Araminta asked Bernard.
Still moving toward the door, he shrugged. “I just wanted to check in on my side of things back at the West Coast division before Daisy takes ov—uh, steps up,” he corrected. “Now that she’ll be in charge, I wanted to make sure everything is running smoothly and in tip-top shape for her.”