“Good morning!” a voice called from the dining room. “Anyone there?”
I glanced at the clock. Ten to seven.
Edna picked up the tray. “And so the oppression of the working classes begins.”
“What do you want me to do?” Bernie asked.
“First, slice those mushrooms and tomatoes and toss them into that pan with a splash of olive oil and give them a light sautéing. Then be ready when Edna comes back with the breakfast orders and assemble the plates accordingly.”
* * *
The final guests didn’t come down until one minute to nine, so it was nine twenty before I hung up my apron. We were expecting another busy day in the tearoom; I’d have to miss my relaxing time-out on the porch this morning.
“You can run along now,” Edna said to Bernie. “I’ll clear up and set the tables for tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I can’t wait to get home and back to my laptop. I’ve got great ideas for the scene where Tessa O’Flannahan is fired for spilling the soup in Lord Blackheart’s lap.”
“Tell me you didn’t name a character Lord Blackheart,” I said.
“I didn’t, but that’s what I’m calling him until I think up something better. This is the opening scene of the book. A fancy dinner party, and poor Tessa is trying to avoid Lord Blackheart’s wandering hands when she spills the soup, but she’s fired for it. Tossed out on her ear to fend for herself.”
“Women didn’t serve at table at fancy dinner parties,” I said.
“They do in my book,” Bernie said.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and took off my apron and hung it on the hook by the door. Éclair knew what that meant, and she got to her feet with a mighty stretch.
“That’s that done,” I said. “On to the next job. What are you up to for the rest of the day?”
“Writing, of course. I’m so excited about the scene where Tessa’s fired. Having no other options, she decides at the last minute to join her aunt and uncle and take sail to America. They think they’re going to Boston but end up on Cape Cod.”
I opened the kitchen door, and Bernie and I stepped outside. Éclair ran on ahead. “You might want to do some historical research before you get too far into it. That way you won’t have to make a lot of changes later.” Such as not having Tessa be a footman. We climbed the three steps to the ground level. Bernie threw out her arms and took several deep breaths.
“This is so great. I’m so glad I came. All I need is some peace and quiet. Manhattan was too noisy and crowded.”
“I have a book I’ll lend you. It was in the house when Rose bought it. Some great pictures and drawings of the early days on the Cape. You can come and get it now.”
“Pictures are good.” Bernie fell into step beside me. “I wish I had a sea view like this one. Anything that overlooks the water is way out of my budget.”
“You can come here anytime,” I said. “Take a seat on a bench and just enjoy, or have a walk on the beach.”
“I’ll do that.”
Before I could turn and lead the way to my cottage, something moved in my peripheral vision and caught my attention. “Oh, no. I was just talking about that blasted gate and the stairs this morning. Looks like it’s finally given up the ghost.”
“You need to get that fixed,” Bernie said. “It’s a long way down.”
The post securing the gate to the ground leaned at a crazy angle, and shards of shattered old wood hung by one hinge. I ran for the stairs. Éclair streaked past me. I needed to put some sort of warning up to keep people away. I should be able to find ribbon in the tearoom to string across the gap until we could get it fixed. I’d ask Simon to do that right away.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I realized that more than the gate itself was broken. Portions of the railing had come away, and bits of rotting wood littered the sandy soil. This was more than just a broken gate; the staircase was now dangerous. Éclair stood at the edge of the bluff, peering over the edge and barking furiously.
“Shush,” Bernie said to her. “Stop that!”
“Stay here,” I said. “I’m going to put the dog in the house and get something to block this off and warn people away. Someone might get hurt if they try to go down.”
Bernie clutched my arm. “I think you’re too late.”
The scattering of freckles stood out on my friend’s pale face. Éclair’s barking was getting louder and more urgent. Bernie’s hand shook as she pointed down the slope.
A man lay at the bottom, staring up into the blue sky. His arms were flung out to one side, and his body lay half on, half off the staircase. I charged through the broken gate and took the stairs as fast as I dared as they shook beneath my feet. Éclair sped past me, and I felt Bernie close behind.
I tripped and stumbled but managed to keep my footing. Bernie grunted and swore.
I dropped to my knees on the rocky sand beside the man. Empty eyes stared into my face.
I touched his neck and felt nothing move beneath my fingers.
“Is he . . . ?” Bernie asked.
I swallowed. “Yes.”
It was Jack Ford.
Chapter 6
“Everything okay down there?” a woman’s voice called.
I glanced up to see two faces peering down at us. A man and a woman, almost certainly B & B guests.
I pushed myself to my feet. Bernie took out her phone and called 911.
“You stay here,” I said. “Wait until help arrives. I need to put the dog away, keep people back, and check on Rose.”
“Okay.”
I called to Éclair. She hesitated, and I called again, more sharply this time. She gave Jack Ford one last sniff and then came to me. We scrambled back up the stairs. More people had arrived, and anxious faces studied me when I reached the top.
“There’s been an accident,” I said. “Please keep back, everyone. The emergency services have been called.”
“Cool.” A small girl pushed herself forward. “Can I look?”
An arm yanked her back. “You most certainly may not.”
“Please go back to the house and carry on with your day,” I said.
No one took my advice; instead, more people began to arrive. I didn’t know what to do. Someone had to stay here and keep these people off the steps, but I needed to make sure Rose was okay.
“Is he dead?” A man leaned over the fence to see better.
People threw each other questioning glances and murmured.
“Please take care, sir,” I said. “You can see the gate isn’t stable.”
“Is it anyone we know?” a woman asked. “Can you see, Brian?”
“Can’t tell from here,” the man said. “He’s not moving, though.”
Simon McCracken appeared at my side. “What do you need, Lily?”
I sighed with relief. “Nine-one-one’s been called. We don’t want anyone else falling. I need to check on my grandmother, and I should get Éclair out of the way.”
“Leave it with me,” he said. “Sir, would you mind stepping back a few steps? Thank you. And you, young lady,