Murdering the Roses (A Heavenly Highland Inn Cozy Mystery) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Cindy Bell
enjoyed each other’s company. Having said that, she had not called him either. That was one of those relationship games that she couldn't grasp the concept of. Who was supposed to call who?
Vicky sighed and nestled her head deeper into her pillow. She thought of her parents and how their lives had been cut short so suddenly. She didn't want the same to happen to her, before she even had the chance to truly live. Aunt Ida had become very eccentric after Vicky's parents’ death, and one late evening when just she and Vicky were still awake sharing memories, she admitted that it was because she wanted to live her life to the fullest. She no longer wanted to let her fears or hesitations limit her. After all, no one ever knew how much time they would have left.
At some point during the night Vicky must have fallen asleep, because she woke up to sunlight pouring in through her window. Her apartment which was in its own section of the inn faced the back gardens, and it was always a beautiful sight to see first thing in the morning. She awoke with the certainty of what she had to do. There was no putting it off any longer. She would have to find a replacement for Bob, but even before she did the gardens would be better off if they had no gardener at all than to have Bob poisoning all of the plants by over watering them or clipping the wrong things. She showered and dressed in a simple business suit, then paused in front of the mirror and looked herself straight in the eye.
"You can do this," she said to herself with forced confidence. "You are a professional, and Bob is not living up to his promise to do a good job. Firing someone does not make you a bad person," Vicky nodded at her own reflection as if she agreed. Then she marched down the hall to the door that led out to the back gardens. First she went to the staff quarters, fully expecting that Bob would still be sleeping. But he did not answer the door. She knocked a few more times before deciding he really wasn't there. Then she began wandering through the gardens on the off chance that he might actually be working. She saw his handiwork all right, from beheaded flowers to trampled grass. She was sure he had no idea how to actually be a gardener, yet another thing that he had lied to her about.
As she walked through one of the largest gardens which featured a beautiful rose garden, she caught her foot on something. As she stumbled she first assumed it might be a root or a stone. But when she looked down it was not a root or a stone. It was a shoe. Her gaze followed the shoe right up a pant leg, and across a plaid shirt, to the face of the man that she had intended to fire that very morning. It looked as if she would not be dealing with that problem after all, but something much worse.
When the blood curdling scream carried through the air, Vicky thought at first that Aunt Ida must have found another spider, until she realized that it was pouring from her own lips. Bob was dead, that much was clear, and it had been no accident, that was very obvious by the splashed blood which was clinging to roses, leaves and flower blossoms. Sarah and Aunt Ida came rushing out of the inn when they heard the scream. When they ran up to her, Vicky was still screaming and didn't even realize it, she was in such shock. Aunt Ida wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close, turning her head away from the gruesome discovery.
“Don't look at it, don't look,” Aunt Ida insisted as she rocked her niece slightly in her arms. Sarah whipped out her cell phone with trembling hands and began dialing the police.
"Is that Bob?" she asked anxiously. “How did this happen?”
"Yes," Vicky managed to choke out. “I don't know! I just found him like this!”
"Did you see anyone running away?" Sarah asked, her eyes flicking around the garden in search of anyone that might be responsible for the crime. They could all be in danger if the killer was still around.
"No," Vicky wept as she leaned
Vicky sighed and nestled her head deeper into her pillow. She thought of her parents and how their lives had been cut short so suddenly. She didn't want the same to happen to her, before she even had the chance to truly live. Aunt Ida had become very eccentric after Vicky's parents’ death, and one late evening when just she and Vicky were still awake sharing memories, she admitted that it was because she wanted to live her life to the fullest. She no longer wanted to let her fears or hesitations limit her. After all, no one ever knew how much time they would have left.
At some point during the night Vicky must have fallen asleep, because she woke up to sunlight pouring in through her window. Her apartment which was in its own section of the inn faced the back gardens, and it was always a beautiful sight to see first thing in the morning. She awoke with the certainty of what she had to do. There was no putting it off any longer. She would have to find a replacement for Bob, but even before she did the gardens would be better off if they had no gardener at all than to have Bob poisoning all of the plants by over watering them or clipping the wrong things. She showered and dressed in a simple business suit, then paused in front of the mirror and looked herself straight in the eye.
"You can do this," she said to herself with forced confidence. "You are a professional, and Bob is not living up to his promise to do a good job. Firing someone does not make you a bad person," Vicky nodded at her own reflection as if she agreed. Then she marched down the hall to the door that led out to the back gardens. First she went to the staff quarters, fully expecting that Bob would still be sleeping. But he did not answer the door. She knocked a few more times before deciding he really wasn't there. Then she began wandering through the gardens on the off chance that he might actually be working. She saw his handiwork all right, from beheaded flowers to trampled grass. She was sure he had no idea how to actually be a gardener, yet another thing that he had lied to her about.
As she walked through one of the largest gardens which featured a beautiful rose garden, she caught her foot on something. As she stumbled she first assumed it might be a root or a stone. But when she looked down it was not a root or a stone. It was a shoe. Her gaze followed the shoe right up a pant leg, and across a plaid shirt, to the face of the man that she had intended to fire that very morning. It looked as if she would not be dealing with that problem after all, but something much worse.
When the blood curdling scream carried through the air, Vicky thought at first that Aunt Ida must have found another spider, until she realized that it was pouring from her own lips. Bob was dead, that much was clear, and it had been no accident, that was very obvious by the splashed blood which was clinging to roses, leaves and flower blossoms. Sarah and Aunt Ida came rushing out of the inn when they heard the scream. When they ran up to her, Vicky was still screaming and didn't even realize it, she was in such shock. Aunt Ida wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close, turning her head away from the gruesome discovery.
“Don't look at it, don't look,” Aunt Ida insisted as she rocked her niece slightly in her arms. Sarah whipped out her cell phone with trembling hands and began dialing the police.
"Is that Bob?" she asked anxiously. “How did this happen?”
"Yes," Vicky managed to choke out. “I don't know! I just found him like this!”
"Did you see anyone running away?" Sarah asked, her eyes flicking around the garden in search of anyone that might be responsible for the crime. They could all be in danger if the killer was still around.
"No," Vicky wept as she leaned
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