O' Artful Death - By Sarah Stewart Taylor Page 0,20
specific introductions ensued. The fur coat-wearing walker was Sabina Dodge. The small, old lady turned out to be Electra Granger. She was a serene-looking person, dressed in a camel hair polo coat, and she had a cloud of fine, white hair half-covered by a pink scarf. Her cataract-clouded blue eyes gazed sightlessly as she shook Sweeney’s hand.
Willow and Anders Fontana and Toby’s Rosemary made up the rest of the walking party.
Willow was attractive and athletic, with short brown hair highlighted with streaks of gold, and a husky voice. Her tall, shapely figure was perfectly covered by a pair of skintight black leggings and a purple ski parka. She was wearing a black headband instead of a hat and she made Sweeney feel overbundled and un-chic. She had the timeless, expensively-cared-for look of a woman who could have been anywhere between thirty-five and fifty.
Willow’s husband, Anders Fontana, was a jovial, slickly handsome man with a loud laugh and a competitive handshake. Even on the windy winter day, his black hair shone like molded plastic. He slapped Toby on the back and looked Sweeney up and down as Sabina introduced them.
Rosemary Burgess, Electra’s granddaughter, was a petite blond woman around Sweeney’s age, with a glossy cap of pale hair, dark blue eyes and a delicate, butterfly-shaped birthmark on her right cheek. As she spoke in a soft accent that Sweeney guessed was South African, she kept a gentle hand on her grandmother’s elbow and kept smiling at Toby. She was, Sweeney realized, exactly his type, small and cool and quiet, and she made Sweeney feel gawky and over-tall.
“We’re on our way down to the cemetery,” Toby explained, when Sabina asked him where they were walking. “Sweeney’s doing some research on Mary Denholm’s stone.”
“Oh, do you think you’ll be able to . . .? Patch did tell you about the . . .” Willow looked subdued for a second.
“Yeah, it’s awful.” They chatted in hushed, awkward tones for a few minutes about Ruth Kimball’s death. Sweeney just listened.
“Anyway,” Toby told them, “we’re going to go down and see. Maybe they’ll just let us look at the stone.”
“Perhaps. Make sure you watch out for her ghost. She wasn’t a very nice person when she was alive. I doubt she’s improved much in death.” Sabina Dodge winked mischievously.
“Sabina, stop it.” Willow turned to Sweeney. “Don’t let her scare you. We’re all sorry about Ruth Kimball’s death, even if we weren’t exactly on friendly terms.”
“Not on friendly terms?” Sweeney asked innocently. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she caught, out of the corner of her eye, Toby shooting her a suspicious glance.
“It’s just that, shall we say, her loyalty to the colony was in doubt. She didn’t quite appreciate what it means to everybody and how important it is to keep it exactly the way it is.” Sabina nodded, pleased with her choice of words. “Now, we’d better let you go if you’re going to make it before dark. We’ll all be over for dinner on Monday, so we’ll see you then and talk some more.” She wiggled her fingers at them. “Remember what I said about ghosts.”
When they were out of earshot, Sweeney turned to Toby and, trying to keep her voice even and cheery, said, “So, she’s pretty, Toby.”
“Yeah. I don’t know. We’ll see what happens.” He didn’t want to go into it anymore, but Sweeney couldn’t stop herself.
“Her accent sounds South African. Did you tell me she only moved here recently?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of an amazing story, actually. Her parents had this big falling out with Electra and Marcus and took her to England when she was pretty young. Then they moved to South Africa and she never saw her grandparents again. She said she always knew they existed, but was afraid of asking her parents about them. Then she was working in London and her parents died in a car accident. She got in touch with Electra last summer, and suggested that she come to visit. It turned out that Electra was getting older and needed someone to live with her and look after things. I think it’s worked out well for both of them.”
“Well, she seems nice. I look forward to getting to know her.” The words sounded false, even to Sweeney’s ears, and Toby gave her an odd look.
The cemetery, when they reached it, was roped off, the orange police tape girding the iron fence like a Christmas package. But there weren’t any policemen around, so they slid under the