Read Online Plaster and Poison by Jennie Bentley - Free Book Online

base. Where there were mostly men.”
“Some women, too. Remember the yeomanettes?”
I nodded. “A lot more men than women, though, Derek. And it would depend a little on how quickly the poison works, too. He joined the navy on the third. He died on the sixth. Could he have taken something before the third that didn’t kill him until the sixth?”
“Not likely,” Derek said. “There are poisons that can build up for a while before they kill you, but with strychnine, it takes a pretty massive dose all at once. It’s possible it was given to him before he joined up, and he only consumed it three days later.”
“Maybe.”
Derek’s voice softened as he sensed my disappointment. “I’m sorry, Avery. This may be one of those things we’ll never learn the truth about. If he was my ancestor, and I don’t know, I don’t know who would.”
“Can I still ask your dad sometime?”
“Sure. And if he doesn’t know anything, we can try to call Paw-Paw Willie. But right now I need your help here, OK?”
“OK,” I said, mentally relegating both the initials and the matter of William Ellis’s maybe murder/accident/ suicide to the back burner for now.
The last few days of November sped by, and December started. Shannon continued to spend most of her time away from the B&B, although I’m not sure whether she was hanging out with Paige or with the new guy in her life, or whether she was just avoiding all of us.
Derek finished insulating the carriage house and cranked up the new HVAC system. We became toasty warm, even when the skies opened and dumped a foot of snow on Waterfield. Aunt Inga’s house looked like a fairy-tale cottage, and Kate took Derek away from work for a half day to help her string lights all up and down the towers and turrets of the B&B.
The Waterfield Inn is a beautiful building. On one end there’s a square tower, with a mansard roof topped by a widow’s walk, while on the other side, there’s a round tower with an onion dome, like the Kremlin. There’s a bay window on the first floor, a wraparound porch, intricately carved gingerbread trim, tons of narrow, arched windows, and gables sticking out in every direction. A true Queen Anne, it boasts every Victorian excess imaginable. With Christmas lights strung along all the different angles of the roof, and along the porch, and over both towers, the B&B glittered against the night sky like something out of a Hollywood movie. Noel should be quite impressed when he and Mom showed up.
Speaking of people showing up, Steve didn’t. Beatrice’s husband, I mean. She settled into the guestroom in Cora and Dr. Ben’s house and signed up with a temp agency out of Portland. As it happened, my cousins Ray and Randy Stenham needed someone to fill in for Carolyn Tate temporarily, and that’s where Beatrice ended up, in the office at Clovercroft, one of the Stenhams’ developments. Bea was seriously overqualified for the work they had her do and must have been bored out of her skull a lot of the time, but maybe she enjoyed having something to do again, after living a life of leisure for the past couple of years. And it was only for a few months, until Ray and Randy could hire someone permanently. Or until Steve got his act together and did something about the situation.
Inside the carriage house, work progressed. I learned how to lay hardwood floors—the real kind; Kate wouldn’t stand for anything manufactured, and Derek would probably refuse to install it. After that, we put in the new kitchen cabinets. They were white, with frosted glass fronts, and looked gorgeous. And then we drove to pick up the marble counter Kate had wanted, only available in Portland, and unloaded it, with the help of Wayne, Josh, and Brandon Thomas, Wayne’s young deputy, who had been drafted for the occasion.
“Did you ever have a chance to talk to Shannon?” I asked Kate as we stood in the driveway watching the men drag the slab of marble off the truck and through the carriage house door.
I was hoping she’d say yes, so I