by Diane Capri
“Hold up, girls.” Sheila held up her cell phone. “Melanie says everything’s good.”
“What does that mean? Are they still getting married?” the blond girl, Becky, asked as she literally licked the inside of her mojito glass, trying to get the last drop of alcohol.
“Wedding’s off.” Sheila read off the texts that were zipping through. “But the party is still on.”
All the girls let out a “whoop-whoop” then got to their feet. As one entity, they moved out of the lounge. Sheila waved at me. “Thanks, Andi. You saved our girl.”
“You’re welcome. Keep each other safe, okay?”
“We will.”
I got up and followed them out.
Then I heard Becky say, “We should call that Todd guy and get some weed.”
“What guy?” the third girl—couldn’t remember her name—asked.
“You know the cute guy with the spiky black hair.”
“Oh, him. Yeah, he was cute.”
Before Becky could run off, I touched her shoulder, and she turned around. “This Todd person…does he work at the D&W?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. We met him the other night outside the Swan. Him and his girl. Hannah, I think, was her name. She was selling some cheap jewelry.”
“What kind of jewelry?”
“I don’t know…cheap gold and silver stuff. Earrings and some necklaces.”
I nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
“You’re not going to narc on us, are you?”
“No. But be careful, okay? You’re all adults, but I kind of feel responsible for you now.” I chuckled.
“We’ll be careful, I promise.” She gave me a big grin, then caught up with the rest of the girls as they piled into the elevator.
My cell phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Melanie.
Thank you, and had a smiley face and a heart beside it.
I smiled as I slid my phone into my purse. My work here was finished. I called Blossom and told them to come pick up the dresses from the concierge closet. I then went into the restaurant kitchen and tracked down the servers getting ready for the wedding reception. The food was already laid out on carts.
“So,” I said, “the event has been canceled.”
One of the servers shook her head. “What do we do with the sandwiches and desserts?”
“Well, it has all been paid for.” I plucked a scrumptious-looking pastry from the tray and plopped it into my mouth. When I was done chewing, I said, “Anyone hungry? I know I am.”
Chapter 19
In my suite, I folded myself onto the sofa, a plate of pastries and finger sandwiches at the ready. I picked up my notebook and pen from the table and started to doodle. This exercise quickly turned into a list. Lists always made me happy and calmed my mind.
This was what I knew about Mrs. Walker’s death.
1. She died between the hours of 10 a.m. and noon.
2. Fell (pushed?) down the stairs, probably broke her neck
3. Colleen Walker visited the house around 11 a.m.
4. Todd from D&W delivered groceries to her house
5. Her dog Lulu went missing a week before
6. Next door neighbor Mr. Rainer took her dog
7. Mr. Rainer and Mrs. Walker had several altercations over the years
8. Mrs. Walker was not well liked around her neighborhood
9. Peter and Colleen Walker are in a lot of debt
10. They aim to inherit everything???? Maybe not????
I stopped to study my list and think about what wasn’t on it.
Sheriff Jackson had told me Mr. Rainer had an alibi. But what if his cleaning woman lied? I mean, I had seen inside his house, and it didn’t look like it had been properly cleaned in months.
Colleen was at Mrs. Walker’s house, but Peter said she was in and out in ten minutes. Enough time to steal a few trinkets to pawn. Still plenty of time to shove someone down the stairs.
Todd the delivery boy had told the sheriff he was rushed, couldn’t put away Mrs. Walker’s groceries that day. Why was he rushed? If he had done something to Mrs. Walker, though, Colleen would have seen it because she was there after him. But what’s to say he actually was there earlier? We only had his word for it. Maybe he actually came after Colleen.
I didn’t know for sure, but there was something up with this Todd dude. When I’d seen him at the store, he’d acted like something was wrong. He could’ve had a lover’s spat with his girlfriend Hannah, but maybe it was more. According to the college girls, Todd was selling weed near the docks. And Hannah was selling cheap jewelry. Maybe Colleen hadn’t been the only one stealing stuff from cranky Mrs. Walker. Maybe Todd had stolen trinkets from her when he delivered the groceries, too.
I had to talk to the sheriff. Let him know that Peter had come to me. I couldn’t keep that to myself. I also wanted to find out about Mrs. Walker’s will. If Peter and Colleen were set to inherit everything, that could prove to be a substantial motive. But then why steal stuff from her? Stuff they would eventually own, probably. But if they weren’t set to inherit, then killing her would eliminate their golden goose. Peter was right about that.
I knew I shouldn’t even be worrying about these things. But I was kidding myself. I became involved the moment I stepped into that house. There was a lot of responsibility that went along with finding a dead person. And I wasn’t one for shirking responsibility.
I crawled into bed with my list, thinking I’d scribble a few more notes if anything came to me before I nodded off. But I added nothing more…because I fell asleep in a snap, pen still in hand.
Chapter 20
Thankfully, I’d enjoyed a decent sleep last night and was heavily caffeinated when all hell broke loose in the hotel lobby.
I was feeling on top of my game when Melanie’s parents stormed into the hotel, swirling across the lobby like two dervishes and up to their daughter’s suite. The porters and front receptionists were in a tizzy because the Lawsons were frequent, valued guests.
Shortly afterward, Lois and Samuel popped into the lobby to make sure everything was all right—but they’d missed the first wave of the dust storm, and all they could do was wait for it to circle back. They were both worried. I could tell because they snapped at everyone, not only me.
A half hour later, the Lawsons returned to the lobby with Melanie and her friends in tow. All the girls had their heads down, dragging their Jimmy Choos, gnawing on their glossed-up lips. They all marched toward the concierge desk as one unstoppable locomotive, and I thought I was going to have a heart attack right there and then when I saw the hard looks on Mr. and Mrs. Lawson’s faces.
Oh God, here it comes. This is how it all ends.
“Andi Steele?” Mr. Lawson asked.
“Yes, that’s correct, Mr. Lawson. How may I help you?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Samuel lurking nearby, likely gleefully anticipating my demise. He was probably the one who called Mr. Lawson with the disturbing news about his daughter’s behavior. It would be exactly like Samuel to do something like that.
Lois sidled up to the desk. She shook hands with the Lawsons, one at a time. “Nice to see you again, Michael. Lavinia. Will you be staying the night?”
“No, we just came to collect our daughter,” Michael Lawson said. He glanced over at Melanie, who had been thoroughly admonished. She wouldn’t even lift her head.
Lois, bless her, persisted. “Is there anything I can personally help you with?”
“I need to speak with Ms. Steele.” He turned and glared at me.
Lois’s eyes widened, and it looked like she wanted to play defense and block him from assaulting me. I appreciated the sentiment, even if sentiment was as far as her effort went. Samuel made no effort to interfere. He stood aside as if he were watching a theater production and waiting to pass judgment on our performances. Which he probably was.
I faced Mr. Lawson with confidence…well, bravado, actually. “How can I help?”
“I wanted to thank you for taking care of this situation. Melanie told us everything you’ve done for her.”
I glanced at Melanie, who lifted her head and gave me a small, tight smile.
Relief flooded through me, and my legs felt like spaghetti. I grasped the desk to keep myself upright. I cleared my throat. “It was my pleasure, sir.”
Mrs. Lawson joined her husband and grabbed my hand on the counter. “You have no idea the scandal you’ve thwarted, Ms. Steele. That girl just about made the biggest mistake of her life.”
“We were all that young once, I think.” I glanced toward Lois, unsure really of what to say in this situation.
“Maybe, but we would never have eloped with some disreputable lothario,” Lavinia Lawson said. “What was she thinking?”
I gently pulled my hand out from under hers, careful not to insult. “Oh, Karl’s not a bad guy. Just impetuous and reckless, much like Melanie, I assume.”
“Yes, well…”
Mr. Lawson patted his wife’s arm. “Regardless, we are in your debt, Ms. Steele.”
“You’re certainly welcome. I’m glad I could help.”
He turned to Lois. “As always, the service at the Park Hotel is impeccable, Lois. You can absolutely rely on the Lawsons to recommend this place to everyone.”
Lois’s hand fluttered to her neck, and she actually blushed. “Thank you, Michael. Your business is always welcome and appreciated. Henry always enjoyed having you with us.”
“We miss Henry, too,” he said and paused to pat Lois’s hand. Then he took out a white envelope from inside his suit jacket pocket and slid it across the desk to me. “This is for you. A small token. Thank you again.”
I smiled at him and took the envelope. I didn’t open it right there and then—that would’ve been rude—but from the feel of it, I’d say there was a very nice tip inside. “Have a safe trip home, and we hope to see you again soon.”
“You will.” He gave me a curt nod, then with his wife beside him and his daughter and her entourage trailing behind, they crossed the lobby to the front doors to catch the hotel’s horse-drawn carriage to the island’s private airport.
As Melanie passed the desk, she mouthed a silent thank-you to me.
I tilted my head and smiled, all motherly-like, feeling quite pleased with the turn of events. Truth be told, I was also a little bit sad that my parents couldn’t sweep into my life any time they felt like it and interfere. Then again, I’d be really ticked off if they tried. The mere thought of Drew and Emily behaving like the Lawsons made me grin.
When they were gone, Lois gave me a quick hug under Samuel’s still watchful eye. “Well done, Andi.” Then she was off to who knew where. Lois was always rushing around. I could never keep track of her movements. Which was one of the reasons she was so often frightening. She popped up when I least expected her.
Samuel then approached my desk, his expression typical of his behavior toward me—grumpy. Still, I looked at him expectantly, hoping to relish the crow he was eating. Instead, he slapped a thick manila envelope down on the desk. “I need you to take these to town hall. They’re the licenses and permits we need filed for the Flower Festival.”
I was thoroughly disappointed. No joy for me. He expressed not one iota of appreciation, in his body language or anything else. Just gave me another errand to run.
What a jerk.
With that, I realized I might never win Samuel’s approval. I had to accept that and move on and just hope he wasn’t planning to move me right out the door. I hadn’t even worked long enough to collect unemployment benefits if he fired me.
“Do these documents need to go to anyone in particular?” I asked, resigned in my servitude.
“Give them to Dolores. She’s expecting you. And get going. You’re already late.” He then walked away, humming a little tune, all pleased with himself.
Chapter 21
After asking Lane to watch the concierge desk—he was happy to do it—I decided to walk down to the village instead of taking one of the carts. I welcomed the fresh air and the walk. I’d been negligent on keeping up any type of exercise regimen. Despite not really eating that much, I was noticing some of my pants were feeling a bit snug—the effects of consuming all the amazing desserts around instead of some low-cal meals.
“Oh well, sue me,” I said to no one in particular. And then I laughed at my own words.
Once I was on Market Street, I decided I would stop in at Daisy’s and visit Scout and Jem, and of course, Mrs. Walker’s dog, Lulu, on the way back to the hotel. I wanted to know what was going on with all of that. I still felt bummed out for causing the dog to be taken from Mr. Rainer. He had seemed very distraught to lose her. Maybe he and Lulu were good for each other. She’d certainly seemed happy and healthy enough. Who knew?
As I walked, I resisted the urge to pop into a few of the shops. Blossom had a really cute top displayed in the window. I stopped to just peek at it. No harm in peeking. Holly the seamstress opened the door and stuck her head out.
“Hey, Andi.”
“Hey. Did you get the dresses back in good shape?”
“We did.” She shook her head, then snickered. “That was some kind of something.”
“Yeah. At least it worked out in the end.” And it had. The Lawsons were saved from a disastrous set of nuptials, and I was five hundred dollars richer. Hence, the quick peek at the cute top. I could treat myself for another disaster diverted.
Holly’s eyes narrowed knowingly. “That top would look killer on you.”
“Yes, it would.”
“Want me to ring it up for you?”
“Would you?” I said. “I have to go to the registry office, but I’ll be back this way in about an hour.”
“No problem.” She ducked into the shop and stepped into the window display to grab the top for me.
I waved at her and continued on my way.
The town hall was a red-brick cube structure built in the 1940s. It housed the town council’s meeting room, the mayor’s office, registry office, and a couple of other municipal-type services. Next door was the sheriff’s office, and behind that, the fire department. All very neat and tidy.
The main lobby was tall and wide, very welcoming even if a bit stark. As I walked down the corridor toward the registry office, I checked out the pictures on the walls. Past mayors and town council members. Past sheriffs and fire chiefs. I stopped at a picture of Sheriff Jackson. Not Luke, but his dad, Norman. So, being lawmen ran in the family. It didn’t surprise me. The sheriff had that way about him. A way that had obviously been ingrained in him from childhood.
I continued walking until I reached the registry office. The door was propped open by a lime-green wedge with a little owl on it, and I went in. It was empty save for a plump, pleasant-looking woman sitting behind the counter. She was furiously typing on a computer keyboard.
When I approached the desk, she stopped typing and smiled. She pushed her coke-bottle glasses into her mass of dyed-blond curls. “Hello, dear. How may I help?”
“I’m Andi Steele from the Park Hotel. I’m looking for Dolores.”
“You found her.” She giggled, and it made her entire body jiggle.
I set the envelope down on the counter. “From Samuel Park.”
She took it, opened it, and slid all the papers out. She quickly flipped through them. “How is Sam?”
“He’s fine.”
She smiled at me again, her eyes crinkling. “That’s good to hear.” Her cheeks pinkened a little.
Hmm. Is there a crush happening here?
“Everything looks in order. But I would expect nothing less.”
“Anything I need to take back with me?”
“Oh no, dear, it’s all good.”
“Excellent. Well, have a great day.”
“You, too.”
I left the office and wandered down the hall. It wasn’t until I was almost at the end when I realized I had made a right instead
of a left from the registry. Sighing, I turned around to head back but stopped when I saw an open door with the words Don Hobbs, Lawyer on a tarnished nameplate.
He was the lawyer the guys at Frontenac Island Bubbles Soap Company had told me about. The horrible bigoted lawyer, according to them. He was also the only game in town and was likely handling the probate of Mrs. Walker’s will.
I peered into the office, then knocked on the door and called out, “Mr. Hobbs?”
No answer.
I stepped inside and saw the cramped office was empty save for the mess on top of the old desk and the stack of books and magazines on the floor. I moved closer to the desk and spotted a cup of coffee, still steaming, and a half-eaten apple strudel, probably from the Weiss Strudel House.
Frowning, I also noticed the papers and folders on the floor beside the desk. I heard a distinctive groan. I came around the desk, only to see a man on the ground. Probably Mr. Hobbs. He was clutching his chest, blinking rapidly, his mouth working like a guppy fish.
“Mr. Hobbs?!” I crouched next to him.
He thumbed his chest and then gestured wildly with his other hand.
“You’re having heart pain?” I slid my hand into my purse to grab my phone to call 9-1-1. He grabbed my arm and groaned again. “It’ll be okay. Help will be on its way.”
He slapped the phone from my hand and reached for his desk. He grunted again.
“Do you have pills?”
He nodded furiously.
I turned and pulled open his desk drawers, searching for a pill bottle. I found one in the second drawer. I showed it to him. “Is this it?”