Read Online Sowing Poison by Janet Kellough - Free Book Online Page B

is fine. It’s worrisome, though.”
    â€œHow long will it be before we know for certain?”
    â€œSometimes you never find out,” Meribeth said. “It’s a peculiar thing. Sometimes the lake never returns the wreckage, especially if the ship went down where the lake is deep. Other times, weeks might go by and then a body might be discovered on a shore far distant from where anyone would expect. Then again, it might be thrown up in front of the victim’s own home. There’s no accounting for what could happen, and all anybody can do is pray and wait.”
    â€œThat’s assuming that the ship was wrecked in the first place,” Clementine pointed out.
    â€œOh, my yes, the best news possible would be that they stayed snug in port somewhere. Even then, it might take some time before they felt it safe to set out again. You just never know about these things.”
    â€œThey tell me the captain is a local man.”
    â€œMatt Spencer, yes, and his sister is the cook.” And at that Meribeth settled in to relate everything she knew about the Spencer family.
    Lewis was at a loss to explain why Mrs. Sprung kept returning to the hotel, but each morning since her first visit she had walked through the front door just before nine o’clock. Now that she knew where the Elliott rooms were, he simply nodded a good morning to her and waved her up the stairs. During the course of the morning he would hear various rappings and thumpings from upstairs, and then Mrs. Sprung would depart again a couple of hours later, clutching a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes.
    That morning he had just finished scrubbing the last of the breakfast dishes when the front door opened. He assumed it was Mrs. Sprung again, and it wasn’t until he heard someone clearing his throat that he realized it wasn’t. It was a ruddy-faced man who looked vaguely familiar to Lewis, but he couldn’t quite come up with the name.
    â€œI’m looking for Mrs. Nate Elliott,” he said, and his face reddened even more.
    Lewis directed him up the stairs, and it was only later that he realized the man was Peter Spencer. This was an unwelcome realization. There could be only one reason that he would be visiting Clementine Elliott; he was hoping she could help him discover the fate of the missing Anthea .
    Lewis went fuming back into the kitchen, wishing he could think of some way to get his brother-in-law to put his foot down in this matter.
    Daniel had taken a cup of tea in to Susannah, relieving Betsy of her invalid-sitting duties for a few moments. Lewis had arrived back in the kitchen only just in time to stop his wife from peeling the mound of potatoes that were set out for the noonday meal.
    â€œI’ll do those later if Daniel doesn’t get to them,” he said, although he sincerely hoped that this wouldn’t be necessary. “Come and sit down for a minute. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
    She looked puzzled, but obligingly settled herself down at the kitchen table.
    â€œIt’s not your hotel,” she pointed out, when he outlined his concerns about the activities taking place in the upstairs room. “It’s Daniel’s place to stop it if he thinks it’s wrong, but he has no qualms about it at all.”
    â€œThat’s because Mrs. Elliott has bewitched him,” Lewis grumbled.
    â€œNo, it’s because Mrs. Elliott is a paying customer. Enough people turn away because there’s no drink here. If Daniel starts questioning everyone’s business, he won’t have any customers at all. It’s bad enough the way he keeps pestering poor Mr. Gilmour.”
    â€œYou don’t think it’s some sort of witchcraft or something?”
    â€œOf course it isn’t. We can’t communicate with the dead. You know that as well as I do, Thaddeus. There’s no doubt in my mind that there’s some sort of jiggery-pokery going