Death among the Roses: a Melanie Hart Mystery (Melanie Hart Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Read Free

hand on top of his, “Josh, it’s been very nice meeting you.”
    He gazed up at Ginger looking for all the world like a puppy who’d just found his master. “Likewise,” he muttered, a goofy smile playing across his strong, handsome face.
    Suddenly realizing the pair looked good together, I folded my arms over my chest and fumed.
    I’d found him first, I irrationally thought. But my reaction left me puzzled. I hadn’t been interested in a man romantically since my one and only dumped me two days short of college graduation.
    Besides I had no right to be jealous over Josh. One quick hug at the sight of a dead body does not a future build.
    But a little issue like knowing someone well never mattered to Ginger. Given another minute or two, she’d have Josh asking her out on a date. I could tell.
    Team up with Ginger? Solve a murder? I’d rather face a root canal.
     

 
TWO
    I hadn't harbored any illusions that Cordelia would move beyond Gary’s death easily. Still, I was stunned at the state I found her in when I finally pulled my car in front of the family home. The house was old and large and lovely, its lawn dotted with ancient evergreens. The graceful turn-of-the-century structure spoke of a successful family, the kind of clan some might assume would never be touched by tragedy.
    But I knew better. Cordelia's older brother had died in a swimming accident. Her only male cousin had met his end in a fiery car crash. And now the love of Cordelia's life had been murdered. I sighed, stepped out of the car, and headed for the house.
    It was Cordelia’s beloved Aunt Bess who responded to my knock. Hair messed, dress rumpled, the attractive woman blinked yet managed to pull up a small smile. "Melanie, I'm so glad you've come."
    We fell into a brief hug.
    "I thought I’d get here sooner,” I said, before stepping through the doorway. “but Gossford had other plans. How’s Cordelia?”
    Bess grimaced. “I’ve never seen her like this. She just sits there. She won’t speak. She won’t eat. She refuses to take the pills the doctor left her. She’s practically barricaded herself inside her room.”
    “She’s still awake then?”
    “Unfortunately, yes. I think a few minutes ago her mother threatened to take a hammer to her. She’s that desperate to get Cordelia to lie down.”
    I sighed. “Cordelia can be a bit stubborn.”
    “The doctor said she needs sleep. Please beg her to get some.”
    “Do you think she’ll even see me?”
    “Who knows? But if anyone can get through to her right now, I suspect it's you. She’s in her bedroom. You know the way.”
    I seriously doubted Bess’ assessment of my skills. But I thanked her for her vote of confidence anyway.
    After pulling a deep breath, I mounted the old staircase with its dark paneling, and banister, and carpet. A long march down a short, dark hallway brought me to her closed bedroom door. After three quick raps failed to draw a reply, I called out, “Cordelia, it's Melanie. Please, may I come in?”
    Something in my words apparently got through to her, because Cordelia finally responded. Her voice was low. I had to strain to hear it. “What do you want?” she asked.
    I swallowed and took courage in hand. “I'm worried about you. I want to see you.” I endured another lengthy silence. Finally, my patience ended. I reached out, twisted the knob, and pushed the door open.
    “Cordelia?” I took a half-step inside the darkened room. She sat in an old rocker before the large bedroom window. The shade was drawn firmly down against the glare of the sinking sun.
    Her wedding dress lay draped across the large bed. It’s white finery, which had glowed charmingly inside the church, now looked dingy in the muted light of the darkened bedroom. Her hair sagged from its upswept bun. Loose tendrils drifted about her cheeks and neck. She wore an old, faded bathrobe. I assumed a new one lurked somewhere deep within her closed suitcases. They stood off in a corner,