Read Online Something in the Blood (A Honey Driver Murder Mystery) by Jean G. Goodhind - Free Book Online Page A

beside him.
    The sound of her mother’s voice drifted through the window. ‘Families used to stick together in the past and marriage was for life …’
    And this coming from a thrice-married woman. Honey almost choked.
    Her mother loved meeting hotel guests and did her bit to help out. She regarded herself as the official social secretary of the Green River Hotel, a bit like those she’d met on cruise ships.
    At least it kept her out of the kitchen. Gloria had learned first-hand that Smudger was likely to reach for the meat cleaver if she interfered in his domain. Honey had backed him up. Good chefs were hard to come by. Interfering mothers were two a penny.
    Mary Jane broke into her thoughts.
    ‘I told her she was mistaken. He doesn’t come from that side of the house. He always comes out of number five and walks along the landing. Mrs Goulding is trying to say that he’s coming out of the closet and that he chases her around the room. Well! It’s nonsense. All wishful thinking and a figment of her imagination I think!’
    Honey eyed the tall, gaunt woman sitting beside her. Where exactly was this conversation going?
    ‘I’m sorry. I’m not quite getting this. You’re saying that Mrs Goulding reported a man chasing her around the room?’
    ‘Sir Cedric! She reckons he’s coming out of her closet, when both you and I know very well that he lives – or rather – materialises from the closet in room twelve.’
    ‘You mean our resident ghost!’
    It sounded wacky, but Honey had got used to it. Mary Jane was in her seventies and claimed she knew all there was to know about the afterlife and the spirits residing there. That’s why she kept coming back to the Green River Hotel, which, according to her, was much favoured by the spirits of the departed. She particularly liked the eighteenth-century gentleman who resided in the closet in room twelve – the room Mary Jane always booked in advance. Sir Cedric was her particular favourite, mainly because she was certain they were related.
    Honey listened patiently. ‘Have you seen Sir Cedric lately?’
    Mary Jane looked hurt. ‘Well, no. But that doesn’t mean he’s deserted me. After all, I am his great, great, great, great, grand niece.’
    She patted Mary Jane’s liver-spotted hand. ‘I’m sure she’s just imagining things. And as you point out yourself, Sir Cedric wouldn’t desert you in order to take up with a perfect stranger, now, would he.’
    Mary Jane’s crumpled face unfolded. ‘No! Of course not. There’s the family honour at stake! I told her that, but she dared question whether Sir Cedric really was one of my ancestors. I told her straight that I’d traced the family tree myself.’
    Honey’s ears pricked up at the mention of tracing family trees.
    ‘Of course you have. How very interesting. Tell me,’ she began. ‘Is it true that a person needs birth certificates and all that stuff if they’re tracing their family tree?’
    ‘Someone serious about tracing his or her ancestors accumulates as much paperwork as possible. It’s imperative. The fact is that if you’ve got gaps in your knowledge there’s always specialists willing to give you a hand.’
    ‘There are? I didn’t know that.’
    ‘Of course. A little information – some bits of family gossip and hearsay can go a long way.’
    ‘Where’s the best place to start tracing a family tree if you happen to be an American?’
    Mary Jane’s twinkling blue eyes twinkled a bit more. ‘It varies. But I can tell you where I started. Are you going to do yours?’
    Honey shook her head, one ear cocked to the sound of her mother’s voice and footsteps pattering past in reception. ‘I’d rather not know,’ she said, pulling a face and shaking her head.
    ’Parish registers are good. So is the local registrar of births, marriages and deaths. The first thing I would do is speak to the relatives.’
    ‘Could you do that for me? I could give you some basic information. The name’s