Free Designer Detective (A Fiona Marlowe Mystery) by Marjorie Thelen Page A

Fiona.
Hudson said you were here, and I thought I’d pop in to say hello.”
    “Come in, come in. I’m calculating the bill for
work I’ve done on the library so far. Hudson said he doesn’t want it redesigned.”
    “That’s what I came to speak to you about,” she
said. “I need your help.”
    I regarded her as she advanced to stand by the
desk. She, too, was dressed western. It suited her. Her dark blue jeans were
pressed with a sharp crease down the middle of the leg and set off her slim figure.
Her red checked blouse was cowgirl cut and at the open throat she wore a neatly
tied red scarf. And she had the cutest red cowgirl boots on tiny feet. All she
needed was the hat and horse. She did not look one day over sixty. I liked the
way she wore her hair, pixie short. Perfect cut for a hat.
    “My, but you look handsome,” I said. “You and Cody
are ready to saddle up.”
    “Why, thank you. I’m anxious to get back to the
wide, open spaces.”
    “What help do you need?” I was curious, of
course.
    She cleared her throat and looked out the
window, not meeting my gaze. “I need you to help me keep a secret. You seem
like a level headed woman.” She peered at me as if to ask for confirmation.
    Level headed was not a term associated with my
name but appearances can deceive. “I’m flattered.” I hoped I should be. “I’ll
try to help.”
    Without further preamble she said, “Hudson and
I are to be married.”
    I gripped the desk hard to keep from falling
off the chair.
    “I know this must be a surprise.”
    “Surprise?” I croaked
getting the word out. “You certainly fooled me.”
    She smiled and her eyes crinkled. “Haven’t we,
though?”
    “How long has this been going on?”
    “Years, I think. I mean, we’ve always had a nice
friendship. He needed support, what with the way Olivia carried on sometimes. Albert
could be difficult, and the butler always gets caught in a family crossfire. We’re
comfortable with each other. ”
    “But, but . . .”
    “I know there’s quite an age difference, but we
don’t seem to notice.”
    “But, Hudson told me he doesn’t like the west.”
    Her smile turned impish. “He lied. He adores
the ranch. He’s been a number of times with Albert and Olivia, then Albert
alone. Albert was quite dependent on Hudson to run everything. He liked Hudson
to travel with him.”
    “But Hudson said he was retiring to Cornwall.”
    “He
said that? I guess that was another little fib. He’s put the house up for sale.
As a matter of fact, I believe he has a buyer.”
    I was running out of buts. One
last one. The most important.
    “But Hudson is a suspect in Albert’s demise.
Are you going to quit the investigation?”
    Opal’s smile turned down on the corners.
“That’s what we need to speak about and why I need your help. Shall we sit on
the couch?”
    I followed and sat beside her. She started in
before I was settled. “I want Jake and you to continue making the motions of an
investigation, even though Hudson and I know what happened.”
    “What?” My vocabulary was limited at this
point.
    “Albert was a spy. The think tank stuff was a
front. He travelled a lot because of his work. Hudson was his accomplice, you
might say, part of the cover. The house is Hudson’s compensation for being a
loyal servant. Does this make things clearer?”
    “Muddy, not murky.” I
was having trouble formulating complete thoughts.
    She exhaled a long sigh. “Hudson told me all
this. Albert didn’t know that I knew.”
    “Geez, this is complicated.”
    Opal gave a funny, one syllable chuckle. “Isn’t
it? Who would think an old ranch woman would get involved in the cloak and
dagger business? There are, however, problems. First, Hudson is in danger. The
family can’t know about this spy stuff. They’re upset because they get little
from the estate. Albert lived pretty high and loose. There won’t be much cash
left after everything is liquidated and the bills paid. They’ll