Read Online The Green Remains by Marni Graff - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marni Graff
Ads: Link
of him is paralyzed, the rest weakened, and he’s given up trying to speak.”
“My God,” Nora breathed. “It’s like some kind of Greek tragedy.”
“That it is, my girl.” Simon stared deeply into the fire. A knock at the door had Darby sitting up. Kate pulled the door open and walked in, empty glass in hand.
“I’ve come for my spot of brandy, but I see you’ve started without me.”
“I was just telling Nora the saga of the Clarendons.” Simon rose and retrieved the brandy bottle, then poured Kate a shot.
Kate spread out on the couch, propping her head on the arm. “Quite a story, isn’t it? I feel so badly for Antonia. She was devoted to Keith, and this will devastate her. I’ll go and see her—Mum would have.” She sipped her brandy. “By the way, that charter for breakfast tomorrow cancelled—they’ve gone to Hawkshead instead—so it should be quiet.”
Simon nodded. “I’ll be around if you’d like the day off until dinner.”
Kate smiled at him with affection. “That would be lovely. Ian called, but I haven’t returned his call yet. I’m still miffed at how he treated Nora this morning.”
Nora rushed to reassure her, explaining how Ian’s attitude had changed at their second meeting that afternoon. The last thing she wanted was to be a source of friction in the life of the happy couple. “Ian said the pathologist didn’t find water in Keith’s lungs. He thinks he might have been under the influence of some kind of drug,” Nora said.
Kate sat up at the news. “Drugs? You mean suicide or murder? Either sounds so unlikely. Why would Keith kill himself—and who would want him dead?”
As Nora sipped her tea, she wondered the same thing. Her shock over finding Keith’s body was wearing off, and her usual grit and determination were returning. Her reporter’s instincts kicked in. Here was an opportunity for her to snoop and to get to the bottom of things, and while she was at it, she could try to identify the research that Keith had mentioned he would share with her. If she found the reason for Keith’s death, it would clear the air between Kate and Ian, too. “Kate, when you visit Keith’s mother, might I tag along? I feel like I should offer my condolences, especially since I knew him in Oxford, and I’m the one who found him. And maybe I can get a look at those books he offered me.” She ignored Simon’s throat clearing. It would be just like him to tell her not to get involved. There was more than a hint of mystery surrounding Keith’s death, and she had perfectly good reasons to visit his home.
“I’d love the company, Nora. Let’s go later in the morning, shall we?” Kate stretched out luxuriously. “I, for once, am sleeping in.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Every thing, saith Epictetus, hath two handles, the one to be held by, the other not.”
— Robert Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy
9:15 PM
Daniel Rowley had almost finished in the lodge kitchen when Agnes sighed.
“These long days at the end of the week aren’t good for my arthritis, but then staying home drives me crazy and doesn’t pay the bills,” she said, drying her hands on a towel.
Daniel grunted in acknowledgment as he tied the last garbage bag shut in preparation for taking it out to the commercial bins. He watched Agnes take one last look around.
“I like coming in mornings to a clean workspace, no doubt about it,” she told him, wiping a rag across the stainless steel countertop and using it to dry out the clean sinks. She threw the wet rag into a laundry hamper, then paused and sniffed hard. “What’s this, then?” She lifted the lid off a small bucket kept in the corner by the sinks.
He waited for her yell.
“Daniel! You’ve forgotten the compost bucket.” She was on a tear now. “Jings! You can’t remember anything. And I’ll not tell you again, if you don’t wash that greasy hair and beard, I’ll not be having you in
“My God,” Nora breathed. “It’s like some kind of Greek tragedy.”
“That it is, my girl.” Simon stared deeply into the fire. A knock at the door had Darby sitting up. Kate pulled the door open and walked in, empty glass in hand.
“I’ve come for my spot of brandy, but I see you’ve started without me.”
“I was just telling Nora the saga of the Clarendons.” Simon rose and retrieved the brandy bottle, then poured Kate a shot.
Kate spread out on the couch, propping her head on the arm. “Quite a story, isn’t it? I feel so badly for Antonia. She was devoted to Keith, and this will devastate her. I’ll go and see her—Mum would have.” She sipped her brandy. “By the way, that charter for breakfast tomorrow cancelled—they’ve gone to Hawkshead instead—so it should be quiet.”
Simon nodded. “I’ll be around if you’d like the day off until dinner.”
Kate smiled at him with affection. “That would be lovely. Ian called, but I haven’t returned his call yet. I’m still miffed at how he treated Nora this morning.”
Nora rushed to reassure her, explaining how Ian’s attitude had changed at their second meeting that afternoon. The last thing she wanted was to be a source of friction in the life of the happy couple. “Ian said the pathologist didn’t find water in Keith’s lungs. He thinks he might have been under the influence of some kind of drug,” Nora said.
Kate sat up at the news. “Drugs? You mean suicide or murder? Either sounds so unlikely. Why would Keith kill himself—and who would want him dead?”
As Nora sipped her tea, she wondered the same thing. Her shock over finding Keith’s body was wearing off, and her usual grit and determination were returning. Her reporter’s instincts kicked in. Here was an opportunity for her to snoop and to get to the bottom of things, and while she was at it, she could try to identify the research that Keith had mentioned he would share with her. If she found the reason for Keith’s death, it would clear the air between Kate and Ian, too. “Kate, when you visit Keith’s mother, might I tag along? I feel like I should offer my condolences, especially since I knew him in Oxford, and I’m the one who found him. And maybe I can get a look at those books he offered me.” She ignored Simon’s throat clearing. It would be just like him to tell her not to get involved. There was more than a hint of mystery surrounding Keith’s death, and she had perfectly good reasons to visit his home.
“I’d love the company, Nora. Let’s go later in the morning, shall we?” Kate stretched out luxuriously. “I, for once, am sleeping in.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Every thing, saith Epictetus, hath two handles, the one to be held by, the other not.”
— Robert Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy
9:15 PM
Daniel Rowley had almost finished in the lodge kitchen when Agnes sighed.
“These long days at the end of the week aren’t good for my arthritis, but then staying home drives me crazy and doesn’t pay the bills,” she said, drying her hands on a towel.
Daniel grunted in acknowledgment as he tied the last garbage bag shut in preparation for taking it out to the commercial bins. He watched Agnes take one last look around.
“I like coming in mornings to a clean workspace, no doubt about it,” she told him, wiping a rag across the stainless steel countertop and using it to dry out the clean sinks. She threw the wet rag into a laundry hamper, then paused and sniffed hard. “What’s this, then?” She lifted the lid off a small bucket kept in the corner by the sinks.
He waited for her yell.
“Daniel! You’ve forgotten the compost bucket.” She was on a tear now. “Jings! You can’t remember anything. And I’ll not tell you again, if you don’t wash that greasy hair and beard, I’ll not be having you in
Similar Books
