Murder in the Paperback Parlor by Ellery Adams Read Free Book Online

simultaneously weary and exhilarated. After they’d donned their coats again, Lachlan told Jane to sit in the Gator while he and the boys put the equipment away. By the time they were done, Jane was ready to go home and spend an hour reading in front of the fire.
    When Lachlan pulled in front of their cottage, Jane thanked him for the lesson and asked if he’d like to come in for a cup of tea.
    â€œThanks, but I can’t,” he said. “I have things to see to before tomorrow.”
    He waited for the boys to leap out of the cargo area and then drove off without another word.
    *   *   *
    The next morning, Jane dressed in a blush-colored skirt suit, swept her strawberry blond hair into a loose chignon, and practically shoved the twins out the door and around the house to the garage where Sterling was waiting.
    â€œAre you sure you have time to drop them at school?” she asked the head chauffeur.
    â€œI can get them there before the bell rings and be at the train station with five minutes to spare,” Sterling assured her. “I’ll be making the forty-five minute drive over the mountain many times today.” He tipped his cap. “We have a full house, Miss Jane.”
    â€œMusic to my ears,” she said.
    As Jane walked up the path in the weak February sunshine, she pictured the steady stream of Rolls-Royce sedans carrying world-worn visitors to the resort. She could easilyimagine the moment when the guests caught their first glimpse of Storyton Hall. She could almost hear them gasp as they took in the sprawling stone manor house. They’d stare, wide-eyed with wonder, at the mammoth clock tower rising into the sky against a backdrop of blue hills. They’d see how the manor’s two wings stretched out like open arms—how the whole structure, from its large windows to the sweeping front staircase, appeared to be welcoming them.
    Humming in contentment, Jane entered the hall and strode down the main corridor. She inhaled the scent of lavender beeswax and noted that the silver vases on every hall table were bursting with multicolored blooms. Jane paused outside the Agatha Christie Tea Room to examine a stunning arrangement of red French tulips, holly, and winterberry.
    â€œTom Green has been here,” she said, looking around for the owner of the Potter’s Shed. She found him in the lobby putting the finishing touches on the biggest arrangement in the entire resort. Butterworth stood nearby, a tray of crystal champagne flutes at the ready awaiting the arrival of the first guests.
    â€œGood morning, gentlemen!” Jane called merrily.
    Butterworth returned the greeting with a stiff bow. Tom, on the other hand, looped his thumbs under his suspenders and gave them a satisfied snap. “I can’t thank you enough for suggesting that your lady guests order romantic bouquets for their rooms. I thought I’d be lucky to get ten orders of my Smoldering Rose or Cupid’s Carnation arrangements, but I received dozens.” His smile widened and dimples appeared in his round cheeks. “Dozens!”
    â€œThat’s splendid, Tom.” She gestured at the rolling cart of florist tools. “But how are you managing all the extra work?”
    Tom adjusted a white lily before answering. “Valentine’s week is my busiest time of the year, so I hire a few retirees to help run the shop and handle residential deliveries.”
    â€œEverything must be working out or you wouldn’t look so jolly.” Jane stepped back and admired the centerpiece.Tom had filled a porcelain jardinière with roses, lady slipper orchids, parrot tulips, nerine lilies, and greenery. The effect was breathtaking.
    â€œI poached a floral designer from a grocery store over the mountain. She’s been such an asset that I might offer her a full-time job.”
    Jane smiled inwardly. People from Storyton referred to outsiders as being from “over