“Don’t be silly. I did wonder, though, how you were going to get through the gate.”
“Easy peasy.” Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. Hanging from one link was a clicker exactly like the others I’d seen for Manning Hall’s gate.
When I appeared not to recognize it, he explained, “Old Willis had a lot of clickers made for the gate. So many people need them: the staff, the gardener, and naturally his houseguests.”
“Naturally.” I nodded but managed to keep a befuddled look on my face.
“It’s Norman. He and I often play snooker of an afternoon. Norman likes to have a bourbon or two, and I am the designated driver.” He tapped lightly on his stomach. “Ulcers, you know. So when Norman stays at Manning Hall, he often gives me a guest clicker so we can come and go to Tiny’s Billiard Parlor, or wherever else, totally under the radar.”
“I understand. No one likes to have to clock in and out when they are a houseguest. That can be so tedious.”
Candy came to our corner of the room. “Jessica, don’t let Tom talk your ear off. He promised to help our one permanent resident, Mrs. Coyle, package some of her ‘collectibles’ and then take her to the post office to mail them to her niece in Ohio.”
“Ah, I had forgotten all about that. I’d better run. Nice to see you again, Jessica.” And Tom rushed off.
“My official duties as tea pourer and bartender are over for the day, so why don’t I show you around?” Candy waved me out of my chair.
I stood and hooked my arm in the crook of her elbow. “Lead on.”
“Shall we start in the gardens? They are so pleasant this time of day. Are you ready?”
I was more than ready. “Sounds lovely. While we’re there you can tell me if the name Parker Smith rings a bell.”
Chapter Nineteen
Candy pushed me away and spun around until she had completed a full circle. She was in absolute shock. Her eyes darted around the room as if she was afraid someone was coming for her with handcuffs. Her words were nearly inaudible: “Shush. To the garden. Now.”
She nudged me toward a set of French doors that led to the porch. We walked down a side staircase into a delightful section of the garden where trellises of climbing roses and clematis were surrounded by patches of fragrant lavender. Under normal circumstances it would have been a lovely spot for a private conversation, but our talk was going to be far from normal.
Candy walked all around the edge of the garden, peering over bushes and behind trees to be sure there was no one within hearing distance. When she came back to where she’d left me standing, she said, “I think it’s best if you tell me how you found out.”
Determined to keep her off guard, I said casually, “I have friends, and my friends have friends. Word gets around.”
“Let’s take a seat.” Candy indicated a white wrought iron bench far from the porch. Her hands were shaking so badly that she clasped them together, fighting for control.
Once we settled in, she looked me straight in the eye and, her voice full of conviction, said, “Parker Smith is dead and buried. I can tell you that for certain.”
“I am curious about one thing. Did Tom ever have the opportunity to meet her?” I asked.
“No. Of course not. Parker Smith and her alter egos existed decades ago. After a few devastating scrapes with the law I learned my lesson and changed my life. Then I met Tom. Everything else is ancient history. As if it never existed.” She looked at me, her eyes filled with worry. “You didn’t tell Tom, did you?”
“Good heavens, no. It’s not my place to tell him, but after all these years, don’t you think you should? In my experience, keeping secrets in a marriage is never a good idea. It often leads to upheaval or tragedy. Think how hurt Tom would be if he found out about your past from someone else.”
“Believe me, Jessica, that is my most constant worry. By the time he and I met I had concealed the fact that I used to be a swindler for such a long time that it seemed natural to just ignore it. Then as I grew to love Tom and wanted to share my life with him, a man who is so decent and kind, I was terribly afraid that if I told him about my past he would leave me. It has always been the elephant in the room, but an elephant I sincerely hoped Tom would never see.”
I found that to be an extremely interesting statement, so I asked, “And when you found out Willis had died in rather odd circumstances, were you at all afraid that the sheriff would want to interview and investigate everyone who was at Manning Hall on the night Willis died?”
“If you are asking if I was afraid the world would find out about Parker Smith, yes. Yes, I was. And I was most afraid that Tom would find out and hate me for the liar I am, maybe even leave me.”
We sat in silence for a few moments, and then Candy asked, “Did Willis know? I was always afraid that he would discover my secret and use it as a weapon in one of his torment sessions. In fact, when he wouldn’t give us the loan for this place I was afraid he’d found out and didn’t trust us. Didn’t trust me. With my history, who would lend me a dollar, never mind thousands of them? It seemed that Tom would not be able to fulfill his dream, and I was afraid it would be completely my fault.”
“Candy, are you saying that you knew Willis was going to deny the
