Crêpe Expectations

by Sarah Fox

  “You should be proud of all you’ve done. The place looks amazing.”

  Hope beamed at the compliment. “Thank you. It’s definitely been a labor of love.”

  My gaze landed on the small cottage at the back of the property, near the forest line. “The cottage is so cute. Are you going to use it for guests?”

  “Yes. I’m hoping it’ll be popular with honeymooners and such.”

  “I’m sure it will be.” I let the sheer curtains fall back into place and followed Hope out of the room. “Have the police finished with the scene out in the woods?” I asked as we descended the front staircase to the main floor.

  “Yes, thank goodness. As of yesterday. They combed the woods and our entire property, though I don’t know what more they thought they’d find after so many years. It’s been unsettling for us, but it must be far worse for Mrs. Kozani.” Hope shuddered as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “It’s frightening to think of something so terrible happening so close by, even if it was a long time ago.”

  “The party took place near here, didn’t it?”

  “It did.” She paused in the foyer. “Will you join me for a glass of lemonade?”

  “I’d love to. Thank you.”

  Hope shifted the conversation back on topic as she led me to the kitchen. “It was supposed to be one last celebration before we all went our separate ways. No one ever guessed it would be the end of life for one of us. Of course, we didn’t even know something had happened to Demetra until her mom contacted the police.”

  “From what I’ve heard, most people figured she’d started a new life in New York City.”

  “I was one of those people.”

  In the kitchen, Hope retrieved a jug of lemonade from the fridge and poured two tall glasses. She handed one to me and suggested we sit out on the back porch. I readily agreed.

  “I can’t even imagine what Mrs. Kozani must be going through,” Hope said once we were sitting comfortably in wicker chairs that matched the ones I’d seen out front. “What she must have gone through for the past ten years.”

  “It’s incredibly sad,” I agreed. “Does she still live in Arizona? I heard she moved there before Demetra disappeared.”

  “I think that’s where she’s living. She still has a house here in Wildwood Cove, but she doesn’t come back very often.”

  Bentley trotted up the steps to the porch and nuzzled my hand with his nose. I stroked his curly golden fur, and he rested his chin on my knee.

  “He’s so cute,” Hope said with a smile, dispelling some of the melancholy that had settled over us. “And speaking of cute animals, how’s the kitten doing? Did you end up keeping him?”

  “My friend Lisa took him in.” I set my glass of lemonade on a small table and produced my phone so I could show her some pictures of Orion.

  We laughed at the more amusing of the photos and chatted about other lighthearted subjects until we’d finished our lemonade. While Hope took the empty glasses inside, I spent a minute or two with Brett before saying goodbye to him.

  When Hope returned from the kitchen, she walked with me to my car. “It was nice having you over for a visit, Marley. We should do this again sometime.”

  “I’d love to come back,” I said. “And Brett and I should have you and Lonny over to our place sometime. Maybe once the garden party is over?”

  “That sounds great.”

  I paused by my car, my mind tracing back to the discovery I’d made in the woods during my last visit to the inn. “Quaid Hendrix mentioned that he used to work here as a gardener.”

  Hope made a face. “That’s true, unfortunately.”

  “You’re not a fan?” I guessed.

  “Definitely not. Although, maybe I shouldn’t be saying that. Are you friends with him?”

  “No way. I only met him recently, and he didn’t make a good impression.”

  Hope seemed relieved by my answer. “I always found him creepy, to be honest. I felt like he was leering at me whenever he was around.”

  “From what I’ve heard, that was a habit of his. Maybe it still is. He certainly isn’t pleasant to spend time with.”

  “He lived in the cottage while he worked here,” Hope said. “I did my best to steer clear of him, but it was a relief when he quit and moved off the property.”

  A series of lightbulbs lit up in my mind. “Was he living in the cottage ten years ago?”

  “He was. And, you know, I can’t help but wonder: Did Quaid have something to do with Demetra’s death?”

  She’d voiced the very same question that was running through my head.

  Chapter 15

  I was about to climb into my car when Hope shaded her eyes and peered past me down the driveway. I heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle and turned to follow her line of sight. When I spotted a sheriff’s department cruiser slowly making its way up the winding driveway, I exchanged a glance with Hope.

  “Maybe they’re not done with the scene in the woods after all,” she said, a trace of apprehension behind her words.

  We said nothing further as the cruiser pulled to a stop next to my car. When Deputy Devereaux got out of the vehicle, he removed his hat and left it on the driver’s seat.

  “Afternoon, Hope, Marley,” he said as he made his way around my car to reach us. He knew me from previous investigations, including the one following the death of my cousin Jimmy.

  “Afternoon,” Hope returned. “Are you heading out into the woods again?”

  “No, we’re finished out there. It’s you I came to see.”

  The barest hint of surprise showed on Hope’s face before it disappeared. “What can I help you with?”

  Devereaux presented the same evidence bag I’d seen at the Collins house. “I was wondering if you could identify this.”

  Hope took the clear plastic bag from him, her eyebrows drawn together. When she noticed the ring in the corner of the bag, she held it up to the sunlight. “I’m not sure I understand why you’re asking, but I’ve never seen this before.”

  “It was found with Demetra’s remains,” I said. Then I winced and looked to the deputy. “Should I have kept quiet about that?”

  “No, that’s fine,” Devereaux assured me. “I was about to say that myself.”

  “I was there when Deputy Rutowski showed it to Chloe,” I explained to Hope when she glanced my way.

  She took another moment to study the ring, but then handed it back to the deputy with a shake of her head. “It still doesn’t look familiar. Do you think it belonged to Demetra, or to her killer?”

  “We don’t know at this point,” Devereaux said.

  “I don’t know if that ruby is real, but either way, Demetra would have shown it to everyone if it was hers. I don’t remember her having any jewelry that nice.”

  “That’s what Chloe said.” I turned my attention to Devereaux. “Have you found out yet if the ruby is real?”

  “It is. I confirmed that this morning.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” Hope said.

  “That’s no problem,” Devereaux assured her. “How about Lonny? Is he around?”

  “He went into town for some groceries. Do you want me to call him and ask how much longer he’ll be?”

  “No need,” the deputy said. “I’ll show him the ring another time.”

  “I doubt it’ll do much good, though I’m sure he’ll be happy to take a look. He knew who Demetra was, but that’s about it. I don’t think he ever spent any time with her.”

  “I figured as much,” Devereaux said. “Thanks for your time.” He returned to his cruiser. “Enjoy the rest of the day,” he said to both of us before climbing into the vehicle.

  We waved once he’d turned the cruiser around and was heading down the driveway.

  “Strange,” Hope said after the dep
uty’s car was out of sight.

  “About the ring?”

  Hope nodded. “I really don’t think it was Demetra’s. But how likely is it that it would have been buried with her if it belonged to the killer?”

  “I guess if it was a loose fit, it’s not all that far fetched, especially if there was a struggle of some sort.”

  “True.” We turned our backs on the driveway, staring across the property to the woods.

  “So does that mean Demetra was killed by a woman?” Hope asked. “That was definitely a woman’s ring.”

  “It’s possible,” I said. “Or maybe someone gave that ring to Demetra shortly before she was killed.”

  Hope’s eyes widened. “Someone like Tyrone?”

  “Chloe and I were wondering about that the other night.”

  Hope frowned, her eyes still fixed on the tree line. “I don’t know. Tyrone’s always had a temper, but he was never violent, as far as I remember. I always thought his bark was far worse than his bite.”

  “Maybe he was pushed too far.”

  “It’s possible,” she conceded.

  “How about Chrissy or any of the other girls who were at the party that night? Did any of them own a ring like that?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “There’s an inscription that says ‘always,’ so Chloe and I thought it might be an engagement or wedding ring.”

  “Could be, but none of the girls from my class were engaged that summer, at least not that I know of. I don’t think any of them got married for at least a couple of years. I was the first to get engaged and married.”

  “When did that happen?”

  Hope smiled, her eyes lighting up with the memory. “New Year’s Eve. The one after graduation. We got married six months later.”

  “I guess you’ve got an anniversary coming up soon, then.”

  “We do. I can’t believe it’s been nine years already.” Her smile grew brighter. “I love him even more now than I did back then.”

  “Sounds like you have an amazing relationship.”

  “We do. We’ve had our rough spots, of course, but we worked through them and came out stronger on the other side.”

  Across the garden, Brett spotted us and waved before grabbing a spade and driving it into the soil.

  “How about you and Brett?” Hope asked. “How long have you been together?”

  “A year.”

  “If he makes you smile like that, things must be going well.”

  I realized she was right—I had a big smile on my face. “I’m very lucky.”

  “I’m sure he is too.”

  The sound of another approaching car drew our attention back to the driveway. This time Lonny pulled up next to my car in his dark blue truck.

  He raised a hand in greeting and called out through the open window, “Hey, Marley.”

  I returned the greeting as he got out of the truck.

  “You just missed Deputy Devereaux,” his wife said.

  “Oh? I thought the sheriff’s department was done with the scene.”

  “They are. He wanted to show us a ring that was found with Demetra’s remains.”

  Lonny circled around the hood of the truck. “A ring? How come?”

  “They’re trying to figure out if it belonged to Demetra or possibly her killer,” Hope said.

  He retrieved two bags of groceries from the passenger’s seat and nudged the door shut. “Did you recognize it?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure it didn’t belong to Demetra, so maybe it’s a clue that will lead the sheriff to the murderer.”

  “Is it unique enough for that?” Lonny asked as he joined us by my car.

  I answered while Hope peeked into one of the grocery bags in her husband’s arms. “Probably. It was a gold ring with a small ruby, inscribed with the word ‘always.’”

  The color drained from Lonny’s face.

  “Does that sound familiar?” I asked.

  “No,” he said quickly. “Not at all.”

  “You’d better get the ice cream in the freezer before it melts,” his wife said, still inspecting the contents of the grocery bags. “Did you remember the hot dogs?”

  Lonny shifted the bags in his arms and kept his eyes away from mine. “I did. They’re in the bottom of the bag. I’ll get everything inside now. It was good to see you, Marley.” He headed for the house with long strides.

  “You too,” I called after him.

  I said goodbye to Hope and waved to Brett one last time before getting in my car and setting off for home. As I followed the winding driveway toward the road, I couldn’t stop thinking about Lonny’s reaction. Despite what he’d said, I was convinced he at least knew something about the ring.

  Chapter 16

  My visit with Hope left me with several new questions swirling around in my head—questions about Lonny, the ring, and Quaid Hendrix. As I busied myself with opening The Flip Side for business the next morning, my thoughts hovered around the gardener turned food blogger. The party in the woods had taken place not far from what was now the Wildwood Inn, and I wondered how Chloe and her friends had come and gone from the party spot. Was there a road or trail leading into the woods? Or, had they cut across the mansion’s property?

  That was something I could ask Chloe. If Demetra had passed by the Victorian on her way home that night, it was possible she’d run into Quaid. And if that had happened, it wasn’t inconceivable that the situation could have taken a nasty turn. Maybe Quaid had made a pass at Demetra and she’d brushed him off. It wasn’t difficult to imagine him losing his temper, especially if his ego had taken a hit.

  But what about Lonny? He’d lied about recognizing the description of the ring—I was sure of that—so what did that mean? He seemed like such a nice guy, and I didn’t want to believe he could have had anything to do with Demetra’s death, but he was hiding something. I wanted to find out about his connection to the ring, but I wasn’t sure how to go about that. Hope hadn’t noticed his reaction, and I felt certain she’d told the truth to Deputy Devereaux when she’d said she didn’t recognize the piece of jewelry, so I wasn’t sure I could get any answers from her. Besides, I wasn’t keen on going to her with an accusation that her husband had lied to us.

  When the first customers of the day arrived, I tried my best to push thoughts of Lonny and Quaid to the side. I set a plate of Boston cream crêpes in front of a young woman with her nose buried in a fantasy novel and spent a moment chatting with another diner. A short time later, the front door opened and Sienna entered the pancake house. She waved at me, and I crossed the dining area to meet her.

  “What brings you by?” I asked.

  “I had a bit of time to kill before school so I thought I’d drop in and see if you have a suspect list yet.”

  “For Demetra’s murder?”

  “Of course.”

  “She died long before I moved to town,” I reminded her.

  “So? Last winter you solved a murder that was way older than this one.”

  That was true, though I’d had help from Lisa’s neighbor. And of course I did have some suspects in mind, but I wasn’t bursting to share my thoughts on the matter with the seventeen-year-old. A few months earlier she’d developed a sudden interest in amateur sleuthing, something that had worried me from the start. She’d narrowly missed a run-in with a murderer not long after that, so now I was even more hesitant about stoking her enthusiasm for unofficially investigating crimes.

  Sienna must have guessed my thoughts. “Come on, Marley,” she pleaded. “I’m just curious. I’m not going to do any snooping.”

  “Do you promise?” I asked.

  “Cross my heart,” she said, tracing an X over her chest with her finger.

  I was still hesitant, but I’d never been good at resisting when she turned the full fo
rce of her pleading brown eyes on me.

  I glanced around the pancake house. All of the half dozen early diners were in the midst of eating, and Leigh was making the rounds with the coffeepot, offering refills. Nothing needed my immediate attention.

  “Have you had breakfast?” I asked Sienna.

  “Just an apple.”

  “Come on, then.”

  I didn’t miss the smile that lit up Sienna’s face as I turned toward the kitchen.

  “Hi, guys,” she said to Tommy and Ivan as the door swung shut behind us.

  “Shouldn’t you be at school?” Ivan asked.

  “Not yet,” Sienna said. “I stopped by to find out what Marley knows about the murder case.”

  Ivan directed his dark gaze at me.

  I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m not encouraging her to get involved.” At least, I hoped I wasn’t. “She hasn’t had much of a breakfast,” I said, hoping to distract him.

  Fortunately, it seemed to work. Some of the steel disappeared from his eyes, and I could have sworn that he almost smiled as he set to work making a crêpe.

  “Are you making what I think you’re making?” Sienna asked him, her face hopeful.

  Ivan replied with a grunt. I interpreted it as an affirmative response, and so did Sienna.

  “Yum,” she said, pulling a stool up to the counter and perching on it. She turned her attention to me while the crêpe cooked under Ivan’s watchful eye. “So, who are your suspects?”

  I started with Tyrone, telling her what I’d learned about him from various sources.

  “Ex-boyfriend with a temper.” Sienna nodded. “He definitely belongs at the top of the list.”

  Ivan slid the crêpe onto a plate and added a generous glob of custard to it. Then he folded it and drizzled chocolate sauce over the top before pushing the plate across the counter to Sienna. I fetched a knife and fork for her before pulling up a stool of my own.