Murder by Yew (An Edna Davies Mystery #1)(5)

“Come join us. We were about to have tea,” Edna called to him.

Tom held up a hand like a policeman stopping traffic. “Please, don’t bother. I really didn’t mean to interrupt your morning, but I was passing by and thought I’d hang those window screens I fixed for you.”

“Tookee?” Danny tugged his grandfather’s hand. “Tookee, Gampa?”

“Mind your manners, Danny-boy.” Tom spoke louder and enunciated more clearly when he addressed his grandson. “First, can you say hello to Mrs. Davies and Miss Osbourne?”

The boy lowered his head as he said, “Lo, Mif Davy. Lo, Mif Aaboo.”

“Hello, Danny.”

“Hiya, Danny.” They chimed back in unison.

Edna tried not to show her concern, but the boy’s difficulty with speech bothered her. Certainly, his family can help him more with his diction, she thought, holding the plate down for Danny to take a cookie. He leaned against Edna’s leg while he nibbled the treat, and she noticed his small hearing aid, not for the first time.

“Thanks,” Tom said, taking a cookie for himself. “I’ll go install the screens, and we’ll be out of your hair. Where’s Doc? He might want to inspect them.”

“I’m sure he would if he were here,” Edna said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “but he left for Chicago this morning. Are you sure you won’t sit with us for a minute? I’ve some of my sassafras blend you like.”

He hesitated. It might have been the offer of his favorite iced tea or Edna’s homemade cookies that persuaded him. “Well, maybe just for a minute. Danny, why don’t you go find Hank and make sure Benjamin is okay?”

As the boy ran off, Edna stood, patting the chair beside her. “Sit down, Tom. It’ll just take me a minute to get the pitcher.” Hurrying toward the back door, she heard Mary say, “Did you hear about Aleda?”

In the kitchen, Edna removed the canning jars from the refrigerator and held them up to see how much was in each. Deciding there wasn’t enough spicy orange left to save, but not wanting to waste it, she poured it with the sassafras into a crockery pitcher and filled a plastic tumbler with ice, returning to the patio just in time to hear Tom say, “Want to ride over with me?”

Edna nearly dropped the pitcher when Mary leaped from her chair as if shot from a cannon.

“Gotta go.” Without further explanation, she scurried off across the lawn toward her own house.

Edna stared after her, momentarily speechless.

“That’s Mary for you.” Tom gave a short laugh. “Always been eccentric. Never know when she’ll run off like a scared rabbit for no reason a’tall.” He reached for another cookie. “You’ll get used to it.”

Edna looked at him curiously, almost certain it was what Tom had said that scared Mary off. What had they

been talking about?

Two

“Sounds like you know Mary pretty well.” Edna eyed Tom as she poured his tea. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t spend her morning gossiping, but she was feeling a sense of loneliness with Albert gone for the next several days, and she enjoyed company. Besides, she was intrigued by her neighbor, and Tom might be able to tell her something about Mary.

He lifted his baseball cap by the bill and scratched the top of his head before settling the red hat back on his salt-and-pepper curls. “Guess I know her ‘bout as well as anyone. She was in my wife’s class back in high school. Three years behind me.”

Edna thought she saw a flash of pain in Tom’s eyes when he mentioned his wife. After two years, he still wore his wedding ring and seemed to grieve as deeply as ever. She hastily moved the conversation back to Mary. “I get the impression she wasn’t particularly close to her parents.”

“They were in their forties when she came along. I think she surprised them.” He took the plastic tumbler from Edna’s hand with a nod of thanks. After taking a large gulp, he frowned slightly, paused, and studied the glass in his hand for a second or two, seeming to savor the flavor before swallowing. Then, setting the glass on the table with a small nod and a smile, he slouched back in his chair and continued his narrative.

“The Osbournes were used to traveling a lot, and having a baby didn’t change them much. They got a relative to come stay with them, kind of a nanny to Mary. Miss Hattie, a second or third cousin of the old man, I think.” He smiled and shook his head—a bit sadly, Edna thought. “Seems like Miss Hattie was as much at sea as Mary’s parents when it came to raising a child.”

“What about pals? Did she have a close friend? Young girls usually pair up with a best buddy. You know, someone to share secrets with.” A picture came to mind of Edna’s own best friend when she’d been a teenager. “Who was Mary’s confidante?”

He frowned. “She and my wife, Jenny … well, this was before Jenny was my wife, of course, but they were pretty friendly. Don’t remember Mary hangin’ out with anyone in particular or even datin’, for that matter. Seems her parents had her believin’ anyone gettin’ too friendly would only be after her money.” He set his glass on the table and leaned back in the wrought iron chair. “Old Mr. Osbourne had a stroke ‘bout the time Mary graduated from high school. Kept him bedridden for most of a year. Seemed to age him and his wife. Guess once they stopped movin’, they started witherin’, kinda like plants without sunshine.” He leaned forward to take another cinnamon cookie and popped it into his mouth. Edna waited for him to continue.