Armoires and Arsenic by Cassie Page Read Free Book Online Page A

Mrs. Harmon’s existence. What would the poor woman do when they parked outside her door, forcing her to fight her way to the garage? Olivia tried to be sympathetic to that one.
    In answer to Olivia’s knock, Mrs. Harmon cracked open her door in a matching peach Charmeuse and lace peignoir and negligee elegant enough for an opera opening, giving Olivia a cool greeting. Olivia did not assume her tenant hid behind her door because she was embarrassed about her attire; the reclusive Mrs. Harmon always acted as though she were hiding something or someone in her apartment. Olivia could not see much beyond the woman’s perfectly coiffed silver hair and that she had yet to apply her signature pale lipstick and navy mascara. Her stately looks always took Olivia’s breath away. If Olivia was a Botticelli, Mrs. Harmon was a John Singer Sergeant.
    Mrs. Harmon waited for Olivia to announce her intentions. “Mrs. Harmon. I’m sorry to bother you but I’m sure you’ve seen the commotion in the back drive.”
    The small apartment was half below ground but with many high windows that afforded brilliant morning light and a view of the rear Garden Center and yard.
    “I could hardly avoid seeing the police.” She spit out this observation as though she were being taxed for each syllable.
    At least their feet Olivia thought but didn’t say.
    “Is there a problem, Miss Granville?” She had so far refused all of Olivia’s entreaties to call her by her first name.”
    “Well, yes, you could say that. It seems a body was crammed into an armoire of mine.” Olivia all but gagged on the word body.
    “Oh dear. Who is it and how did it get in there?”
    “Well, that’s part of the problem. I took delivery of a shipment from Blackman’s shop. Well, when Cody and I opened the armoire, well . . . “ Olivia shuddered. “There he was. Mr. Blackman is the victim. But why and who did it? That’s the puzzle.”
    Was it just Olivia, or wouldn’t it have been nicer for Mrs. Harmon to invite her in to sit down for a moment?
    Mrs. Harmon fairly sneered at the name Blackman. Her aging vocal chords rasped, “I didn’t know you dealt with those unsavory people.”
    “Unsavory? Why they came very highly recommended,” Olivia said, surprise all over her face. Mrs. Harmon had spoken little to her in the few months they had lived in the same building, but she had never said anything negative or backstabbing. Yet, she certainly wasn’t shedding any tears over Mr. Blackman’s demise.
    “Recommended? Not by anyone I know.” The haughty response was a side of Mrs. Harmon Olivia had not seen before. Maybe this little old lady wasn’t all sweetness and tea in English china cups after all, as Olivia had assumed from stately demeanor.
    “And who would that be, Mrs. Harmon? The people you know?”
    Mrs. Harmon smiled blankly as though she hadn’t heard the question, but Olivia didn’t believe that for a minute. She knew she was pushing the bounds of privacy in asking who her tenant socialized with, but Olivia’s timeline didn’t allow for the niceties of waiting until they were BFFs to reveal details of their personal lives. She was on a mission and her own safety was in jeopardy. Someone in town had something on Blackman’s. Was her own life in jeopardy? She had to find out who was behind this murder.
    Who could have a grudge against Olivia and implicate her in a deadly plot? In her experience, DV didn’t like newcomers, though the realtor never told her that as she extolled the virtues of the town when Olivia was on the hunt for property. Would someone do this just for spite?
    “Mrs. Harmon, I’ll get to the point. The police have asked that I provide a witness to my whereabouts last night and this morning . . . “
    Now it was Mrs. Harmon’s turn to show surprise. “Did you have something to do with it . . .the murder?”
    “Well, of course not. It’s merely a formality since the body appeared on my property.” Olivia noted how