The Purloined Letter Opener

by Leah R. Cutter

  “Uhmmm, maybe?” Theo said. “Wait. I do. You’re right!”

  “They might not understand that you like both men and women,” Lydia said. “But honestly, who cares? You get to like or love whoever you want these days.”

  “Even in a small town like Spokane?” Theo asked.

  “Even here in Lake Hope,” Lydia replied. “And a pox on anyone who would stop you. Particularly some asshole like Schooner Thomas.”

  “I had planned on confronting him, you know,” Theo said after a few moments. “Telling him that he was wrong. I did find happiness. And I’m going to find more.”

  “Which is why the police think you’re a suspect,” Lydia guessed. “Because you were seen going to his house.”

  “Exactly,” Theo said. He sighed. “Bad luck that it happened to be Friday night. I never got up the courage to actually knock on his door, though I had intended to.”

  “Probably a good thing that you didn’t,” Lydia said. “You might have disturbed the killer.”

  “I know,” Theo said. “Believe me, I’ve thought of that. I just can’t convince the police that it wasn’t me, though.”

  “Then we’ll have to figure out who did kill Schooner Thomas,” Lydia said. “Before it’s too late.”

  24

  Lydia found herself actually looking forward to meeting with Neil for dinner. Like Theo, she felt the need to see what was actually there, in front of her, versus all her memories.

  She was aware that she’d never get back together with him. There was just too much water under that bridge. However, it wouldn’t hurt to at least look at her options for a night, right?

  For once, Lydia let her hair down, literally. She undid the braid she usually wore, letting her long hair flow down her back, to midway between her shoulder blades and her waist. She regularly got the ends trimmed, but it continued to grow longer. She used the fancy hairpins to hold back the wisps around her face, the ones with pretty pink and red rhinestones. Instead of a usual T-shirt, she wore a nicer, black-and-white polka-dot sleeveless blouse, that showed off her muscles as well as her figure, with a plain gray skirt and her nicer sandals. She didn’t have any perfume, but she did add mascara to make her eyes bigger, as well as just a touch of pink lipstick.

  She even twirled once in front of her mirror, knowing that Ed and Alan would have approved. While she would never look as casually fabulous as Patrice, she still managed a quiet, chic elegance.

  And if Neil didn’t appreciate that, well, he could just go right back to Seattle and leave her and her hometown alone.

  Neil showed up ten minutes late, as usual. He would bitch loudly enough if someone else showed up late, but he was never on time himself. Lydia stood in the restaurant chatting with the Hendricks about their day’s adventures at the various wineries.

  “My dinner date is here,” Lydia said, excusing herself and walking over to see Neil. She knew the speculation that the older couple were likely to have. She didn’t care. She’d inured herself to her guests’ gossip long ago.

  Neil looked really good, actually, in a light blue-and-white striped shirt and navy blue pants, loafers and no socks. He filled out the shirt well, and she suspected that his butt was still rock solid.

  “Shall we?” she asked as she walked over to where he was standing just inside the door.

  “We shall,” he said solemnly, holding the door open for her. His silver Audi was just outside.

  “Where are we going?” Lydia asked as she slid into the car she remembered well. The seat curved around her, both supportive and comfortable. Neil had always taken good care of his car, the leather seats still supple and like new. No dirt marred the freshly vacuumed carpet, the dashboard was free of dust. It smelled faintly of the lemon leather cleaner he always used.

  As always, the spotless condition of the car made Lydia want to put her feet up on the dash, just because.

  “I thought we could go to Palmer’s,” Neil said.

  “Splashing out?” Lydia said. She hadn’t been to Palmer’s in years, though she frequently told honeymooners to go there. It was one of the fanciest restaurants in town. It was on Lake Hope itself, with beautiful views and an extensive deck. It catered to the rich folk who lived on the northern end of the lake, as well as to tourists who came to have one really good meal while on vacation.

  Neil shrugged and started the car up. The engine purred as always. “Figured why not,” he said. “It does have the best wine list of any of the restaurants.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes. “Since when did you care about fine wine?”

  He grinned at her. “See? That’s something I’ve missed.”

  Lydia kept her snort to herself.

  Neil continued. “I figured that you would have developed a fine palate since you’ve been back, surrounded by good wine all the time, that you’d appreciate it.”

  “Okay,” Lydia said. He may have even been telling her the truth—that he’d thought of her and her needs at some point when it came to this evening.

  Probably, though, he had just wanted to try to impress her.

  They chatted easily about Neil’s work, catching up on some of the news about friends who Lydia hadn’t seen in the last five years as they wound their way along the scenic lakeshore and up to the restaurant.

  Palmer’s still had the same elegance that Lydia remembered—low lights and heavy, leather furniture, with small intimate tables lit by candlelight. The heavenly smell of freshly baked bread filled the air, underlaid with scents of garlic and seared meat. Lydia found her stomach clamoring to be filled as they were shown to their seats. The maître d’ unfolded the heavy cloth napkins and set them in their laps before handing them the large, stiff menus.

  “Wow,” Lydia said, looking it over. While the menu items hadn’t changed much from the last time she’d been here, the prices had certainly increased to Seattle standards and beyond.

  “I know, right?” Neil said. “It all looks amazing.”

  Lydia nodded, glad that he’d misinterpreted her exclamation, that he’d assumed she was just looking at the items available.

  Neil handed her the wine list, saying, “You should pick us out a bottle that will go well with steak. That is, I’m assuming you want steak, right?”

  “I do,” Lydia said. She’d heard often enough from guests that the ribeye at Palmer’s was amazing. They actually would serve it blue, which not many restaurants knew how to do. In addition, at least according to what she’d heard, they knew how to cook their other steaks perfectly.

  After they’d ordered, Neil asked, “So tell me how you got into the B&B business.”

  “It started off almost as a lark,” Lydia said. “I’d come back here after the divorce, wanting to take a little time to figure out what I wanted to do with my life.”

  Neil nodded. That much he already knew.

  “So Dad and I were walking downtown and saw the For Sale sign on the old place,” Lydia said. “I joked with him about how I should just buy that place and set myself up in business there. He didn’t laugh, though. He just told me I could do anything I wanted to.”

  Lydia drew in a deep breath. She hadn’t realized until just then how much the quiet, unwavering support of her parents, particularly her father, had meant to her.

  “I kept thinking about it, though I hadn’t been serious at the time,” Lydia continued. “I took a tour of the building and found out how much they were asking for, then I got estimates for how much it would cost to do all the upgrades that needed doing. Figured out I could swing it if I did a lot of the work myself. I was sure my dad would help, as he’d retired recently. He works as a handyman now, when he wants to work.”

  Neil pressed his lips together, and Lydia would swear that he was just about to roll his eyes. “What?” she asked defensively.

  “You got it all planned out, to the smallest detail, before you told anyone, didn’t you?” he said.

  “I did,” Lydia said defensively.

  She knew tha
t she and Neil had argued about that in the past. But really, there wasn’t anyone else in her life at that point. No one who needed to be involved with that decision.

  “So you bought the place,” Neil said.

  “Yup. Spent about eight weeks fixing it up, adding on the laundry room, my personal rooms, and like that. Opened on August first. Had my first guest inquire about a room six nights after that. Was full for the first time by the end of August. And it’s been going really well ever since,” Lydia said, her voice full of pride.

  The wine arrived just then, as well as the bread. Neil had the waiter show Lydia the bottle. He’d done that before, so it wasn’t a complete change of behavior. She took a taste and immediately approved it. It was a Barbados, a lighter red, sweeter at the front with the perfect amount of acidity that would go well with their meal.

  “Cheers,” Neil said, clinking glasses with her.

  “Cheers,” Lydia said. Their usual toast had always been, “To better times,” or “To even better times.” She appreciated that Neil was stepping cautiously around their past.

  Or maybe he’d just forgotten.

  Lydia continued to talk, telling him about funny things her guests had done, bringing him up to date on the gossip in town. He told her about his parents, his co-workers, his gym friends.

  They were even able to share some jokes and were laughing when Neil suddenly stiffened.

  “What is it?” Lydia asked, watching Neil pull back into himself.

  “Seems my rival has just shown up,” he said, gesturing with his wine glass over Lydia’s shoulder.

  “Your rival?” Lydia said, confused. She glanced over her shoulder.

  Detective Avery was being shown to a table. He obviously appeared to be eating alone.

  But why should Neil consider him a rival? Had she said anything about him while they’d been chatting? Maybe. And maybe more than she should have.

  “Shouldn’t we invite him over?” Lydia said, teasingly. It was more to bother Neil than because she really wanted to see Avery again. Really.

  “No, we should not,” Neil said. He looked displeased, as if those last bites of truly divine steak were now turning bitter in his mouth.

  “You’re right, we’re nearly finished,” Lydia said. She wasn’t upset with herself for not insisting—this really was a night for her and Neil.

  They had already ordered the apple cobbler and coffee to finish off their meal, though Lydia doubted she’d be able to eat more than a few bites of anything more. At least she had thought to cut the ribeye in half before she’d started eating, so she was going to have tasty leftovers later that week.

  “Do you want to go out and have a nightcap after this?” Neil said.

  Lydia realized that the moment of truth was at hand. She thought for a moment, then just said the words that came to her.

  No one would ever accuse her of being too sly.

  “While I’m very glad to see you, and to realize that we can be friendly to each other, there isn’t anything more for us,” Lydia said.

  Why had those words been so difficult to say? She didn’t feel breathless, as if she was anxious or excited. No, she felt heavy and sad.

  Maybe even though she’d always known that getting back together with Neil was a dream, it was hard to finally kill that fantasy all the way dead.

  Neil sighed, but then he nodded. “I think you’re right,” he said slowly. “I had thought…well, never mind what I thought. I need someone like you in my life. Just…not you.”

  The words hurt more than Lydia had expected them to.

  They also lightened her heart.

  She and Neil were both free, at least of each other.

  “Friends?” Lydia asked after taking another sip of her wine.

  “Friends, at the very least,” Neil said. He stuck his hand across the table and Lydia shook it.

  “Good,” Lydia said. “Because I’d hate to have to clear your name if we weren’t. I’d do it anyway, though.”

  Neil nodded and smiled at her. “You always did go for fair, if nothing else.”

  Lydia wasn’t exactly sure what Neil meant, but she would take it for now.

  After the extremely delicious cobbler with fresh apples and heavy cream was served, Lydia found herself studying Neil across the table.

  He would always be her ex. But maybe they could play up the fact that they were exes, still…

  “What?” Neil asked, sounding defensive.

  “I have a plan to catch whoever it is who’s been impersonating you,” Lydia said. “And hopefully, the killer.”

  Neil gave her a broad smile, the one that she always read with the words, “Bring it” tacked on in big broad letters.

  This time, she really would.

  25

  Lydia complained loudly and bitterly to anyone who would listen about how awful her “date” with Neil had been the night before. She was sure she’d only have to mention it to Misty for everyone in town to hear, but Lydia felt like playing it up.

  However, she felt as though she only had the one chance to catch whoever it was who was impersonating him.

  Hopefully the news of their “date” would reach the killer’s ears before he went for ice cream that afternoon. It was a small town, after all.

  Alice had cheerfully come in on her day off to help clean the B&B that afternoon so Lydia could leave early and get a table at the coffee shop just across the street from Guadalupe’s ice cream shop. She regretted her choice after just a few minutes—the afternoon was uncomfortably hot, the temperature in the upper nineties. If there had been a breeze from the lake, it might have been bearable, but the air was completely still. The blue of the sky had even paled, and waves of heat rose off the new asphalt. The smell of tar choked her throat.

  At least Lydia had an iced coffee to drink, though she suspected the ice wasn’t going to last for long. And she was wearing shorts, sandals, and a light-enough lavender T-shirt. Her braided hair hung heavy down the middle of her back. Maybe someday she’d get it all shorn off…

  According to Guadalupe, the imitation Neil came into the shop around three PM. Lydia had arrived at the coffee shop just after two-thirty.

  Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long. A beat-up old sports coupe pulled up and a tall, dark-haired, well-dressed man climbed out of it. The two were incongruous—someone wearing that nice of an outfit should be driving something other than a dinged up, rusted out old car.

  It had to be the imposter. From across the street, Lydia could see the resemblance to Neil. She certainly would have stopped to look at the man twice when she’d been on her hunt for the real Neil, before he’d just shown up.

  The man paused, peering up and down the street before he entered the ice cream shop. Lydia pretended to be very interested in the label on the side of her coffee cup for a few moments, breathing a sigh of relief when the imposter actually did go into the shop.

  Gathering up her courage, Lydia stood up. She was going to get to the bottom of this, once and for all.

  Lydia’s heart pounded hard as she walked across the street. The coffee she’d drunk churned in her stomach. She blamed her suddenly sweating palms on the high temperature. The door handle felt cool against her skin.

  Taking one more deep breath, Lydia pulled the door open and walked in. The man stood at the counter, talking with Guadalupe. He laughed, and Lydia heard the similarities to Neil’s laugh.

  So the imposter could sound like Neil as well.

  Lydia waited next to the door while Guadalupe served the imposter a cup of ice cream with hot fudge. She caught Lydia’s eye and nodded, acknowledging that this was the man who’d called himself Neil.

  Finally, the man turned around. His eyes grew big when he saw Lydia standing there, and his face turned as white as his whipped cream.

  It took Lydia just a moment to place him. He’d grown thinner since high school. More pale and haggard. She hoped she contained her shocked look well enough. But she was certain of
who it was.

  Schooner Thomas’s son.

  “Hello, Bernard,” she said.

  “Hello, Lydia.”

  26

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Lydia said as they sat down outside, in the uncomfortable heat. The backs of her bare legs were going to stick to the plastic. Gross. She’d decided against having any ice cream herself. The way her stomach was knotting she didn’t think adding anything to the mix would end well.

  “Thanks, I guess,” Bernard said, shrugging. “No one really liked him. Me included.”

  “True enough,” Lydia said, keeping her tone light. She so desperately wanted to directly ask Bernard if he’d killed his father, but for once, she held her tongue. “Haven’t seen you since high school,” she said after a moment, wanting to keep Bernard there. “How have you been doing?”

  “Okay, I guess,” Bernard said. “Got a bar out in Spokane,” he said proudly.

  Lydia knew that wasn’t the truth, that he merely worked at a bar, he didn’t own one. But this wasn’t Neil, and she knew how to hold her tongue. Occasionally.

  “That’s awesome,” Lydia said, pasting a big smile across her face. “I run a B&B here in town.”

  “The Nip and Bud,” Neil said. “On Main Street.”

  Though that didn’t really prove anything, it did mean he knew where she worked and lived.

  “Why did you introduce yourself as my ex, Neil, to Guadalupe?” Lydia finally asked, unable to keep herself completely still.

  “Eh, ex-football star. Figured I could get some kind of discount or something,” Bernard said. “Even though he was an asshole. Even more stuck up than you.”

  Lydia blinked, surprised. She didn’t remember ever teasing or putting Bernard down back in the day. He’d barely registered on her radar. “Sorry about that. But Neil had my head all turned around back then,” she said.

  “Unlike now,” Bernard said with a conspiratorial grin.

  So, Bernard had heard about the “awful” date Lydia had had with Neil the night before.