Kevin looked as if he’d taken a direct hit to the head, so Molly replied for him. “Molly Somerville. This is Kevin, the new owner.”

“Oh, yes. We heard about you. You play baseball, don’t you?”

Kevin sagged against the gas lamppost.

“Basketball,” Molly said. “But he’s really too short for the NBA, so they’re cutting him.”

“My husband and I aren’t much for sports. We were sorry to hear about Judith. Lovely woman. Very knowledgeable about the local bird population. We’re on the trail of Kirtland’s warbler.”

John Pearson outweighed his wife by nearly two hundred pounds, and his double chins wiggled. “We hope you’re not planning on making too many changes in the food. Judith’s breakfast spread is famous. And her cherry chocolate cake …” He paused, and Molly half expected him to kiss his fingertips. “Is afternoon tea still at five o’clock?”

Molly waited for Kevin to respond, but he seemed to have lost the power of speech. She cocked her head at them. “I have a feeling tea might be a little late today.”

Chapter 9

9

Daphne lived in the prettiest cottage in Nightingale Woods. It sat off by itself in a great grove of trees, which meant she could play her electric guitar whenever she wanted and no one complained.

—Daphne Gets Lost

Kevin had his cell phone pressed to one ear, the B&B’s phone pressed to the other as he paced the entrance hall barking orders to his business manager and somebody who was either a secretary or a housekeeper. Behind him an imposing walnut staircase rose half a flight, then turned at a right angle. The spindles were dusty, and the richly patterned carpet on the treads needed vacuuming. An urn filled with drooping peacock feathers topped a pilaster on the landing.

His pacing was wearing her out, so Molly decided to explore while he talked. With Roo trotting after her, she moved slowly into the front parlor. The pincushion settee and pleasing jumble of chairs were upholstered in pretty buttercup and rose fabrics. Botanical prints and pastoral scenes hung in gilded frames on the cream-colored walls, while lace curtains framed the windows. Brass candlesticks, a Chinese jardiniere, and some crystal boxes ornamented the mantel above the fireplace. Unfortunately, the brass was tarnished, the crystal dull, and the tabletops dusty. A lint-flecked Oriental carpet contributed to the overall air of neglect.

The same was true of the music room, where the traditional pineapple-patterned wallpaper served as a background for rose-patterned reading chairs and a spinet piano. A writing desk in the corner held ivory stationery, along with an old-fashioned fountain pen and a bottle of ink. A pair of tarnished silver candlesticks sat on top, near an old toby jug.