"Well." He adopted that hushed tone again. "I know a florist in…you know where. And he once told me that she received three floral arrangements every week. And they were ordered by three different men. He didn't tell me who because he was very discreet."
Right. So discreet he told you Aunt June was behaving like some sort of elderly tramp.
"Could the men be from…you know where?" If that was the case, this investigation that didn't seem like it warranted an investigation was going to become way harder.
He tapped a gloved finger on his chin. "I don't know. I got the distinct impression that they were from Behold. My friend told me they used you know where because everyone here would've gone to Guttenberg. Going to my florist friend would ensure they didn't run into anyone from Behold."
"Unless they ran into each other, that is."
Basil nodded eagerly. "They probably called in their orders. Once, Aunt June did talk about getting flowers. They weren't red roses. The arrangements had all kinds of exotic and hard-to-find flowers. I'm guessing those men were trying to impress a woman who had very expensive tastes." The brushing stopped, and he slapped a shower cap on my head. "Okay, we need that to sit for a little while."
I reached up and touched the cap. "Why did she live here? If she was always going to the West Coast, why stay here?"
Basil took the chair next to me. "That's a good question. I've often wondered if her family originally came from here. Maybe she just loved the house and the peace and quiet?"
"Hmmm…" I said. "There can't be much peace and quiet with three men hounding you every week."
"I wish I had that problem!" Basil laughed. "I need to clean up. No peeking!"
He gathered a couple of cups filled with goopy paint brushes and disappeared into the back of the building. I turned to look in the mirror, but a black shower cap covered my hair. I toyed with lifting up the edges, but for reasons I couldn't explain, I didn't want Basil to think I'd peeked.
My thoughts turned back to what he'd said. The three suitors would be excellent suspects. People have killed for far less. And the men she'd dated must've been in her house and seen her collection. It would be easy to unleash a spider on her when she was sleeping. Wouldn't it?
Love and jealousy are solid motives for murder. But who were these men? Aunt June sounded very charismatic. Did the men love her for her or for her house and money? Or was it the treasure? There were too many options.
I thought about the ridiculous offer on the house. Someone wanted it badly. Was it the killer? A memento, perhaps, of a lost love? Or was it a way to get even with Aunt June and the other two boyfriends?
"Basil?" I called out.
"Yes?" He popped through the doorway and stood over me, pulling off the shower cap and running a gloved hand through parts of my hair before snapping it back into place.
"Who are the wealthiest men in town?"
His eyes went wide. "Ah! You think that's a clue! That's easy. There's Dr. Morgan. He's ancient, but his family owned seven very productive hog farms, which he later sold. Then, let's see, there's my brother Nigel." Basil made a face. "But he's too young for Aunt June."
"Not necessarily," I said.
Basil's eyebrows shot upward. "Good point. A May-December romance is a possibility. I never would've thought my brother had interest in anything but money and the law, but maybe I don't know him well enough."
"You said three possible suitors. Is there anyone else?"
"Time to rinse!" He led me over to the basin and once again shampooed my hair.
"Let me think," Basil murmured. "Oh! There's Virgil Jacobsen! The postmaster! Let's head back to the chair, but no peeking!"
Back in the chair, he brought out the blow dryer again. Twice in a morning I'd been shampooed and blow dried. Was this what normal women did? Who had time for this? I had a date with a mud pit later. There was no way I was drying my hair for a third time.
The scalp massage was heaven, and Basil's banter was lots of fun. Maybe I was missing out. Our discussion was stalled for about ten minutes while he once again dried my hair.
"Tell me about Virgil," I asked when he finished.
"The Jacobsen family has lived here forever. They were the first founders of the town and own half the property. Old money, they say. Although, there was a rumor that his grandfather ran illegal liquor during Prohibition, so who knows?"
"How old is Virgil?"
Basil's jaw dropped open. "You haven't been to the post office to see the tooth?"
"Not yet. The girls went the other day. I'm planning to go," I admitted.
"I was being sarcastic. It's the stupidest thing to be famous for." Basil brought out a curling rod and flatiron and began working on my hair. "I thought it was hilarious when they made that sign and forgot the word human. No one really cares if you have the world's largest tooth because it could be from a whale or a mammoth. They didn't want to take down the sign and get a new one, so they added the caret and the word human. Have you ever heard anything more ridiculous?"
"Who's they? The city council?"
He nodded as he brushed. "We were supposed to have a mayoral election soon. But when Aunt June died, the town council voted to let my brother have another term."
"Which brother?" It had to be Hal. He was by far the most personable.
Basil made a face. "Nigel."
I recalled what he'd said moments before. "Wait…why cancel the election after Aunt June died?"
He paused, brush in the air. "She was running against him. My brother has been mayor for ten years. He's always run unopposed. But Aunt June decided that it was time for new blood or something like that."
This was news to
