“We lost cell service here earlier in the evening. I was visiting Albert, and I didn’t leave in time. When Ellie asked me for a ride home, we couldn’t even get out of the parking lot.”
“Mmm. I miss you,” Pete said in a low voice.
Cam shut her eyes for a moment. She wished she were snuggled on a couch next to Pete, with that sexy voice in her ear in person. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat.
“I miss you, too. And I would really like to get out of here. I’ve been trying to sleep on a sofa, but it’s terribly uncomfortable.”
“Poor dear. And me in my nice warm double bed.” He laughed low and throatily.
“Stop it now. Listen, that text from Ellie? Ellie told me she saw Frank Jackson coming out of Bev’s room. And that he threatened Bev. He told her if she didn’t give him the money, she would be killed.”
Pete didn’t speak for a moment, and Cam thought she heard a pencil scratching on paper. “That’s serious. Why didn’t she tell me earlier?”
Cam told him what Ellie had said. “She feels bad about it.”
“I surely hope Jackson isn’t also trapped there tonight.”
“No, thank goodness. As far as I know.” Or was he here? She hadn’t seen him anywhere earlier and couldn’t think of why he would be at the residence. That didn’t mean he wasn’t. “I was locked out in the blizzard earlier.”
“What? You’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding. I found my way around to the rear door, which was unlocked, but being out there terrified me.”
“Oh, Cam.” Pete sounded anguished. “Are you all right?”
“I am. Took me a while to warm up. I’ll give you all the gory details later.” Should she tell him about Ginger going through her handbag? She decided to save that news. Nothing had happened, after all, although she was glad Ginger hadn’t reappeared from Jim’s office, where she must be occupying his long, cushy leather sofa with him.
“You could have—”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry. Listen, I learned a few more things, too. Ginger apparently cheats on the buildings she puts up. Oh, and Richard has a gambling problem.”
“Whoa, whoa. You learned all this tonight at the residence there?”
Cam laughed. “No. DJ and Alexandra each happened to tell me some stuff. Richard is Alexandra’s friend’s stepfather. Or ex-stepfather. Her friend’s name is Hannah.”
“We were investigating Broadhurst’s gambling. Remember, we talked about that yesterday? But it’s good to get it confirmed. See if you can get the friend’s last name, will you?”
“Sure. And DJ’s brother Eddie works construction for Ginger,” Cam went on. “Or did. He says it’s nearly criminal, what she does.”
“Also good to know. What’s DJ’s last name?”
“Johns. His brother is Eddie Johns.”
“Good. What’s also good is that the weather station says the storm is blowing out to sea,” Pete said. “We should all be able to get out tomorrow morning. I mean, this morning.”
“I hope my animals survived the storm. And Preston.”
“Dasha can’t wait to get out for a long walk, too.” Pete cleared his throat. “I haven’t been able to sleep, thinking about you,” he said in a husky voice.
“Because I’m a person of interest?”
“Of interest to me personally. This has been killing me, this week. You know that, don’t you?”
“You didn’t exactly make that clear to me.”
“I couldn’t. I wasn’t even supposed to be talking with you. But you’re in the clear now, as I already told you. We’re closing in on the murderer.”
“Who is it?”
Pete didn’t speak.
“Yeah, you can’t tell me.” Cam yawned. “I might be able to sleep now, though. See you tomorrow sometime?”
“I hope so. I’m on duty again.” He didn’t speak for a moment.
The large clock on the wall ticked, as if reassuring Cam that life would someday return to normal.
“Why don’t you call me when you get home?” Pete asked. “If you don’t mind, I’ll stop by to say hello and leave Dasha with you for the day.”
“No problem. I’d love to see you. And him. Get some sleep yourself.”
“I’ll be dreaming—” His voice cut out, and then she heard him again. “Got a work call. Later.” He disconnected.
Cam sat with the phone in her hand. She hadn’t had a chance to tell him about Rosemary and Richard. She also hadn’t told him what she’d learned about the legal uses of cyanide salts. But surely a detective already knew that. She stretched out and fell asleep, still clutching her phone.
Chapter 28
The rattle of a cart in the hallway woke Cam. She sat up and wiped a drop of drool from the corner of her mouth. She still clutched her phone in her other hand. It read 6:50 a.m. She glanced out the closest window. The pale dawn light showed snow everywhere but in the sky itself, which grew bluer as she watched. She looked around the room. The girls still slept.
Cam rose and stretched. She grabbed her bag, made her way to the visitor bathroom, and then followed the alluring scent of fresh coffee all the way to the kitchen, an aroma that put all thoughts of almond-scented poison out of her mind.
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty arises?” Rosemary gestured at an old-style coffee percolator atop the eight-burner stove. “I pulled that out of storage. Grab a mug and help yourself.”
“Did the power come on?”
“Nope.” Rosemary ran her hands down her white apron. “But with a gas stove and a box of matches, who needs power?”
“Can I help?” Cam gazed at the stainless-steel island, which was covered with several industrial-sized rectangular pans, a couple of bowls, and a mound of grated cheese.
“I’m making a major egg bake. Soon as the potatoes are done, I need to assemble it and get it into the oven. I don’t want to waste generator power trying to toast a hundred slices of bread. But sure, you can help. Wash up over there.” She tilted her head at the big sink. “And then start cracking eggs into that big mixer bowl.”
Cam obliged. Two flats of eggs sat next to a huge metal bowl. She began to crack egg after egg, until dozens of pale yellow orbs swam in their clear fluid. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d become to her own free-range hens’ organic eggs, with their deep yellow yolks and their flavor to match.
Ellie wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, followed by Ray. Their sleepy faces and rumpled hair made them appear more like children than the almost adults they were.
“Good morning, ladies,” Rosemary said.
“Morning,” Ellie murmured.
Ray nodded, still looking half asleep.
“Ellie, cell coverage is back,” Cam said.
“Thanks. I’ll call my mom,” Ellie said. “When I wake up.”
“Why don’t you both freshen up, get yourselves a glass of juice, and start setting up the dining room?” Rosemary extracted a large whisk from a wide crock and began to beat the eggs. “The roads are still impassable. I’m going to need you to work this morning, until the rest of the staff can get in.”
Ellie nodded and turned. Ray followed her out of the room like a teen robot.
“I’m all set now, Cam. Thanks for lending a hand. Pop in, in about half an hour, and I’ll fix you a plate.”
“Will do.” Cam topped up her coffee and walked down the hall to the lobby. She heard the scraping sound of a snow shovel on pavement. She gazed out the glass door. Oscar, bundled against the cold, was slowly clearing the walkway. A snow scoop leaned against the wall. Cam donned her coat and hat and swapped her shoes for boots. She slung her bag over her head and one shoulder. No way was she leaving it unattended with Ginger still on the premises. Pulling on gloves, she pushed through both doors.
Oscar glanced at her. Pink overlaid his dark cheeks. “If I told people back in the home country about this, they would never believe me. You here to help?”
“Flaherty Shoveling Ser
vice.” She smiled at him and lifted the snow scoop. She walked down the few feet of cleared walk and began to push the scoop into two feet of fresh snow. The tool was shaped like a mini plow, with a square-sided scoop and a U-shaped handle. She’d gotten the hang of using the one at the farm. She pushed the scoop until it could hold no more snow, then upended it along the side of the walk, packing the pile of snow before righting the scoop again. The wind had ceased, but breathing the clear air was like inhaling shards of ice. Her exposed cheeks stung, and the tips of her fingers numbed.
They worked together for half an hour, occasionally swapping implements. The one who scooped accomplished more clearing, and the shoveler cleaned up the loose snow the scoop tended to leave at the edges. When they’d cleared the walk nearly all the way to the parking lot, Cam stopped. She could feel sensation in her fingers again, and the hard work mitigated the effects of the cold.
“I need a breather,” she said. She glanced around. The sun now bathed every crystal of snow in light, making the universe sparkle. Branches bent low and gracefully under their beautiful burdens. The scene was a winter wonderland at odds with poisoned salads, midnight clandestine searches, and elderly victims.
“How did you pass the night?” Oscar asked. He laid both hands on the shovel handle.
“Uncomfortably. You?”
He stuck the shovel in a snowdrift, then pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it after checking the vicinity. “I figure if they have me working past my pay grade and job description, I deserve a smoke. But yeah, not that comfortable on a short couch in the staff room.”
“Tall people like us are at a real disadvantage.” She smiled at him again, but it turned into a frown. “I caught Ginger going through my bag last night, at around midnight.”
“That lady is a real number.” He shook his head and inhaled. “What did she think she was going to find?”
“She claimed it was a mistake.”
“Only mistake she made was taking up with Cooper. That guy is no manager. I don’t know how he ever got the job.”
Cam turned to gaze at the building behind them. “How old is Moran Manor, anyway?”
“This residence was built only two years ago. The place was new when I started here. Before that, Moran Manor had been family run in a big old house in town. I suppose it’s still family run, but the owners moved to Florida.”
“I saw a crack in the plaster upstairs a few days ago,” Cam said. “It might be cosmetic, like somebody put too much paint on. But if it isn’t, a building this new shouldn’t be showing problems like that. Unless it’s just settling.”
“Oh, there are other cracks, I can assure you.” Oscar took a long drag on his smoke and then ground it out under his heel. He looked around again, picked it up, drew back his arm, and shot the butt high and far into the woods. “It’s poorly built. Walls that aren’t square. Receptacles that don’t work. Drains that back up. And lots of cracks in the walls.”
“I wonder if the residents are safe. Have you raised those problems with the director? With Jim?” If Albert survived his fall, only to have a roof collapse on him, Cam wasn’t sure she could bear it.
“Cooper does not want to hear about it.” Oscar let a breath out. He took the scoop out of Cam’s hands and handed her the shovel in exchange. “I’ve got to finish this job. I’m sure I’m needed inside by now for several cantankerous male residents who want only me to attend to them.” He scooped toward the parking lot.
Cam didn’t move for a moment. She was willing to bet the farm that Ginger Montgomery had been the Moran Manor developer. And her cozy relationship with Jim Cooper would explain her continued presence at the residence even after her mother’s death. Cam hefted the shovel and tackled the walkway in front of the cars parked facing the residence, the first one being Ginger’s snow-covered Lexus. At her fourth shovelful, she crunched into something. She dug under it, and there, in the pile of snow, was Ginger’s bundle of keys. Cam laughed out loud. She used her sleeve to swipe a spot clean on the car’s hood and laid the keys in the middle, resisting the temptation to write, “You’re welcome,” in the snow on the windshield.
A large yellow vehicle with a wide scoop of its own lumbered into the parking lot from the road. The scoop lowered with a clunk. The machine began to clear the pavement, one swath at a time.
Chapter 29
Cam stood in the kitchen, a hot cup of coffee cradled in her cold hands. Both girls sat on stools. Ray gazed out from under heavy eyelids, and Ellie had a dazed look about her, as well.
“Girls, you’re free to go,” Rosemary said to the teenagers. “The roads are clear, and the regular staff is arriving.”
“Sweet,” Ellie said.
“I can give you both a ride,” Cam told them.
Rosemary yawned. “And Jim actually told me to head on home soon,” she said to Cam. “Apparently, he has a backup cook on retainer. I need to do lunch prep until the guy gets here, and then I am bound for my bed.” She grinned. “With my favorite opera singer.”
On her way out, Cam found Albert in the breakfast room and planted a kiss on his head. “I’ll come over on the weekend to see you.”
He glanced up. “Do you mean tomorrow?”
“Today’s Friday, isn’t it? I totally lost track.” At least Albert had his sense of time back. “I’ll be here tomorrow or Sunday. More likely Sunday, since tomorrow is share day.”
He nodded and tucked into his egg bake. Cam’s stomach grumbled at the sight, but she decided to eat at home. One more minute than absolutely necessary in a communal setting and she might start screaming.
Outside the girls helped brush the snow off the truck. Both Ray’s red and yellow knit cap and Ellie’s purple pashmina scarf were spring flowers against the white snow. Cam dug out around the doors and shoveled away the plowed snow in front of the truck, glad she’d thought to back in yesterday.
When the way was clear, they all piled in. Rosemary’s car halfway blocked the way in front, but Cam had room to edge around it. She got directions from Ray and headed toward her house near the river.
“I’m glad it’s a snow day,” Ellie said.
“If ever one was justified, it’s today,” Cam said. “Did you let your mom know you were on your way?”
Ellie nodded.
“I’m going to sleep all day,” Ray said.
“But both of you slept really well, didn’t you?” Cam asked. She could sense their eyebrows rising without even seeing them.
“It wasn’t that, like, restful,” Ellie said. “Plus, one time I woke up, and that Ginger lady was prowling around. It creeped me out.”
“She’s super weird,” Ray added.
Cam dropped Ray off and then Ellie.
“Thanks, Cam,” Ellie said as she climbed out. “Hey, do you need help later? You know, with the shares? Since it’s a snow day, Vince could give me a ride over.”
“Thanks. I might, but not until the afternoon. I’ll text you.”
Ellie waved and waded along an unshoveled path toward the house. Cam waited to be sure she got inside safely. Right before she reached her front door, Ellie bent down and then, with a big grin, lobbed a snowball at the truck’s window. Cam laughed, flipping on the wipers. She beeped the horn and drove toward home.
Ten minutes later she was stuck in her own driveway. She’d revved the Ford’s engine and had swung off the road into her drive. And had promptly stalled out. She restarted the truck but couldn’t get anywhere in reverse or plow her way farther in, either. A plow guy had convinced her to hire him, but he clearly had other jobs ahead of her driveway.
She forced the door open and stepped into snow up to her knees. “I’m home,” she whooped. She was exhausted, cold, and hungry. But she was no longer shut in with more than a hundred senior citizens and caretakers, plus one shady businesswoman who couldn’t keep her hands in her own designer bag. She trudged to the house. She cleared the stoop in front of the back door by sweeping her foot back and forth until she c
ould pull the storm door open. The turn of a key in a lock had never sounded so good. As soon as she entered, stomping the snow off her feet, Preston came at a run.
“Mr. P.” She leaned down and stroked him.
He gazed up, over at his empty food dish, and at her again.
“Give me a minute, big guy.” She slid out of her boots and into her fleece-lined slippers, then filled his bowl and petted his head a couple of times while he began to crunch the dry bits of food. She turned up the heat, brewed a pot of coffee, and fixed herself a piece of toast. Sitting with her mug of coffee, inhaling its rich roasted smell and gazing out at the snow reflecting off the winter wonderland, she longed to stay in the quiet of her house all day. But tomorrow was share day. And the chickens needed attention. Oh, and she had a truck to dig out. Then she remembered she was supposed to call Pete.
She pressed his number. After she greeted him, she said, “I’m home, but my truck is stuck at the edge of my driveway, and I don’t know when my plow guy will get here. No way you’ll be able to get in. Try to park at the edge of the road.”
“I’ll be over in thirty, or as long as it takes me. Still all right to bring Dasha?” The dog barked in the background.
“Absolutely.”
Cam poured her coffee into a travel mug before she donned her work coat. Not wanting ever to be cold again, she pulled on snow pants and slid into her boots. If she hurried, she could feed and water the hens and then get her own shoveling done before Pete arrived. At the very least the path to the house and to the barn.
The hens were all alive, Cam saw with relief after trudging through the snow to the coop. Ruffles had lived, as well. He stood on the highest roost but hopped down and pushed the girls out of the way when Cam scooped feed into the tray. She brought water out from the barn to fill their receptacle, then cleared the snow away from the ramp down to the yard. A combination of shoveling and stomping flattened an area at the bottom of the ramp for them. A minute later Ruffles emerged and let out a couple of good crows from the top of the ramp.
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