by Thea Cambert
“Hm. I can tell you she wasn’t here much. She came and went a lot. These doctors are a busy group, though. She got in Tuesday night, went out early Wednesday, came and went all day. Next thing we heard was that she’d drowned at the lake. Awful!”
“Do you have any idea who sent her that note? The one left at the front desk?” Samuel asked his wife.
“No,” said Eve thoughtfully. “Although, now that I think of it, there was a young woman in the reception area on Wednesday morning, after Dr. Darlington went out. I’d been back in the dining room, putting another pot of coffee on as people came in for breakfast. She must not have rung the bell, because when I came back to the front desk, she was there, looking at the guest book.”
“Did she book a room?” asked Alice, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“She asked about a room, but we’re all booked for the conference. I told her the whole town’s pretty full, what with it being a holiday weekend.”
“What did this woman look like?” asked Owen.
“Bright green eyes,” said Eve. “Very striking. Blond hair.”
“The woman from the bookstore!” said Alice. “Was she about my height? Maybe in her late twenties?”
Eve nodded. “That’s her.”
“You saw her, too, Franny. She’d been in the shop when Alexandra was so rude to me, and again the next day.”
“I remember,” said Franny, nodding. “She was really nice.”
“I suspect she left the note,” Eve concluded. “It wasn’t on the desk when I’d gone back to the dining room. But, it was there when I came back. And so was the girl.”
“Maybe this green-eyed girl of ours wasn’t so nice after all,” said Owen, raising a brow.
“Any idea where she went after leaving here?” Alice asked the Berkleys as they all arrived back in the reception area.
“I expect she went right where I sent her—to the only place left to stay in town,” said Eve. “To the campground. Out at the lake.”
Chapter 9
“Hopefully one of the glamping tents was available,” said Owen as they hopped on their bikes and began pedaling toward the lake—which lay a short distance down Phlox Street, not far from the Valley Inn and the heart of town. “I mean, what do you do if you arrive in town and can’t find a hotel room? It’s not as if most people go around with a tent and sleeping bags in the trunk of their car, just in case.”
The campground at Blue Lake, aptly named the Cozy Bear Camp and Glamp, offered everything from rustic, out-of-the-way sites, where campers could wander off into the woods, pitch their own tents, and enjoy peaceful nights around a campfire, to all-inclusive glamping tents, complete with wood floors, comfortable cots, electricity, and nearby bathrooms stocked with fancy soaps, fresh towels, and plenty of hot water.
Harve and Sue Anderson owned the campground. Back before Sue had come along, it was just a group of small clearings for tents with a scattering of barbecue pits. But when Sue, a refined woman with impeccable taste, fell in love with the outdoorsy Harve, she’d brought along a few touches of her own, and now the Cozy Bear offered something for everyone—including the occasional black bear sightings plus gorgeous views of both the lake and the mountains.
The Cozy Bear was almost directly across the lake from the town dock and fishing shack. Sue and Harve’s house was nearby, a little further around the western edge of Blue Lake, in a small cluster of pretty houses. Meanwhile, Ben and Luke’s homes were down at the eastern tip of the lake. The whole thing was encircled by a street called Lake Trail—which had started out, many years ago, as an actual trail, but was now a one-lane asphalt road that branched off of Phlox and wove its way through the trees and around the lake.
Alice slowed her bike and put her feet down as they passed under the Cozy Bear entrance arch, which this time of year, was covered with flowering trumpet vine.
“Wow, look at this,” said Owen, getting off his bike and pointing at a sign near the entrance. “Tonight, there’s a gourmet five-course feast at six, a singalong at seven, and ghost stories around the campfire at nine.”
Franny walked over and looked at the sign. “Oh, my gosh. They have a moonlit canoe ride tonight and a guided hike in the morning. And, look at that yurt over there! I want to live here!”
“That’s what all our customers say,” said Harve Anderson, coming out of the small, stacked-log office building. “What brings you all out today?”
“Hi, Harve,” said Alice. “Actually, we’re looking for a guest of yours. A woman with bright green eyes and beautiful yellow-blond hair. Have you seen anyone who fits that description?”
“Are you three solving another mystery? Oh! I bet you’re figuring out who that woman that died out here was!” Harve gave them a conspiratorial glance and lowered his voice. “Is this green-eyed woman connected to her somehow?”
“We don’t know yet,” Alice said, leaning closer to Harve. “But, we intend to find out.”
“I know exactly the woman you’re talking about, by the way. Those green eyes of hers are very unusual. She and her husband checked in Wednesday. They’re in one of Sue’s glamping tents, over that way. The one at the edge of the water.” Harve pointed.
“So,” Owen said in a loud whisper, “how are we going to approach the green-eyed monster? I mean, don’t we need some kind of story, some kind of excuse—”
“Hello!”
Alice recognized the blond woman from the shop instantly. She was walking toward them, a broad smile on her face.
They all exchanged greetings and friendly smiles.
“I was just on my way to sign up for tonight’s canoe ride, and then I saw you. You probably don’t remember me,” the woman said. “I was in your bookshop the other day. I love that place!”
“I do remember you!” said Alice.
“So do I,” said Franny.
“I don’t remember you, because I’ve never laid eyes on you before,” said Owen. “I’m Owen James. My bakery, Sourdough, is right next to The Paper Owl.”
“Of course! I was in Sourdough Wednesday afternoon, buying cupcakes. I talked to a nice woman with a German accent, I think?”
“Oh, she’s not nice,” said Owen. “She’s the grumpiest woman on the planet.”
“Oh, good. So, it wasn’t me, then,” the woman said with a relieved chuckle. “The cupcakes were amazing.”
Owen glowed a little at the compliment. “Thank you! I’m glad you liked them.”
“I’m Olivia, by the way. Olivia Nutley. My husband Seth is around here somewhere. It’s our first time glamping, and we love it!”
“This is Alice, and that’s Franny. She owns Joe’s coffee shop,” Owen said.
“Are you in town for the celebration?” asked Alice, not wanting the conversation to stall and Olivia to go on her way.
“No—well, sort of,” said Olivia. “We wanted a little getaway, and we fell in love with Blue Valley the moment we saw it. It’s just a lucky bonus that there’s a celebration going on this weekend. We expected to find fireworks, but I hear there’s a pretty big party out here at the lake tomorrow.”
“Yep,” said Alice. “On Main Street, all the shops and restaurants have decorations and specials. But, the main fun is out here. There’s a huge cookout, a pie contest, kitschy carnival games and rides, and a boat parade with decorated kayaks, canoes, and pedal boats.”
“Did someone say pedal boats?” A nice-looking man walked up and put his arm around Olivia.
“This is my husband, Seth,” she said. “Seth, this is Alice—she owns the bookstore I was telling you about. This is Owen, who owns the bakery where I got the cupcakes. And, this is Franny—she owns Joe’s coffee shop.”
“Nice to meet you all,” said Seth.
“And, I did say ‘pedal boats’, by the way,” said Alice. “We have a whole fleet of them, over at the fishing shack.” She pointed across the lake, where the little brightly colored boats could be seen, bobbing up and down in the wate
r.
“I love pedal boats,” said Seth. “We used to go out in them when I was a kid, at the park in the town where I grew up.”
“There’s even a pedal boat race,” said Franny. “Tomorrow morning at eight.”
“You should enter,” said Owen.
“Could we?” asked Olivia.
“Sure,” said Alice. “There’s even an out-of-towners’ division. It’s the Blue Lake Independence Day Pedal Boat Regatta. My brother and I are entered.”
“What she’s not telling you is that she and her brother win it every year,” said Owen.
“Not every year,” said Alice, rolling her eyes.
“I’ve lived here for six years, and they’ve won it every single July since I’ve been going to that race,” Owen countered.
“They’re the local champs,” Franny explained. “It’s pretty competitive. Visitors can enter, too, and win things like gift certificates to local shops and restaurants and funky plastic trophies and stuff like that.”
“Let’s do it!” said Olivia, grabbing her husband’s arm.
“Sounds like fun,” Seth said. “How do we enter?”
“I can get you set up,” said Alice. “My brother, Ben, is one of the people in charge of collecting names for the sign-up list. I’m going to his house right now. Just give me your contact information.” She reached into her messenger bag and handed Olivia a small notepad and pen. Seth thanked Alice and excused himself, heading back toward their tent.
“Thank you! That is so kind of you,” said Olivia, and Alice couldn’t help but notice how genuine her smile was. “Blue Valley is the most hospitable town I’ve ever been to! Everyone’s been so considerate.”
Alice felt almost guilty. The Nutleys seemed to be lovely people. Surely, this sunny woman wouldn’t write a threatening note—much less kill anyone. Alice glanced at Owen and Franny, not sure how to proceed.
“So . . . Did you hear about the drowning out here at the lake Wednesday night?” asked Owen.
“Oh, yes,” said Olivia. “We heard about it this morning. So terrible. To think of someone drowning—”
“It was the rude customer,” Franny blurted out, interrupting.
“What?” Olivia looked confused.
“Remember the woman who was so rude when you were in my shop on Wednesday?” Alice watched Olivia carefully as she said the words.
“Of course,” said Olivia, looking a little dazed.
“Sadly, she was the person who died here,” said Alice, looking out at the water. She looked back at Olivia. “You look a little pale. You didn’t know her, did you?”
“No,” Olivia said quickly. “I mean, like I told you at the shop, I assumed she was one of the doctors in town for the conference. We tried to get a room at the Valley Inn before we came to the Cozy Bear, and the lady there said they were booked. We saw the conference attendants milling around—and they were all wearing matching lanyards. I remember the rude customer was wearing one, too.”
“Well, you guessed right,” said Alice. “She was one of the doctors from the conference. Alexandra Darlington.”
There was a slightly awkward pause, then Olivia broke the silence, saying, “I’d better go find Seth.” She moved away in the direction her husband had gone.
“Oh—don’t forget to sign up for the moonlit canoe ride!” said Franny, pointing in the direction of the log cabin office.
Olivia immediately pivoted and headed that way. “Thanks for entering us in the regatta. We’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she said with a weak smile.
“Nice to meet you! See you tomorrow!” Owen called after her, waving.
“Well, she doesn’t seem like a killer to me,” said Franny.
“No way she’s a killer,” said Owen with a snort. “Too wholesome. What book did she buy, anyway? Hold on, let me guess: a romance novel? A YA fantasy? A book about how to crochet gifts for all your friends?”
“She bought an Agatha Christie book about a group of people on an island who are being killed off one by one.”
“Ah.” Owen cleared his throat. “Well, they do say you can’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Let’s go over to Ben’s,” said Alice, turning her bike in the direction of her brother’s end of the lake. “We’re decorating the Maelstrom tonight, and Luke’s bringing takeout from the Smiling Hound. It’ll be fun.”
“We can’t,” Franny answered, and Owen shook his head in agreement.
“Nope, we can’t,” he said.
“Why not? What’s happening tonight?”
“Nothing!” said Franny, a little too quickly.
“What are you two up to?” asked Alice, suspicious. “I’ve never known either of you to turn down takeout from the Hound. Come on. We’ll get a family-sized basket of onion rings.”
Franny and Owen looked at each other and seemed to have an unspoken exchange of some kind.
“We really can’t,” said Owen. “Stuff going on at the bakery, you know. Plus, I want to go have a look at Alexandra’s blog, see if there’s anything else there.”
“I was going to help him,” said Franny. “I mean, with the bakery stuff.”
“Oh. Okay, well, then, I guess I’ll see you later tonight?”
“Yep!” Owen said, as he and Franny took the branch of Lake Trail that led back to Phlox Street.
“We’ll see you tonight, after you get home!” called Franny.
Alice pedaled the rest of the way down Lake Trail to Ben’s house and leaned her bike up against a tree. She walked toward the house, still wondering what her friends were up to.
“Good, you’re here,” said Ben, walking up from the lake. “I’ve got the decorations inside. We can get started while we wait for Luke to arrive with dinner.”
“Oh—I have a new entrant for the regatta,” said Alice, lifting the strap of her messenger bag over her head. She dug around inside the bag until she found the little notepad with Olivia’s contact information. As Alice passed the notepad to Ben, she glanced down at the writing, and immediately snatched it back.
“Wait,” she said, examining Olivia’s handwriting. “But . . . They were so nice,” she muttered.
“Who was so nice?”
“The Nutleys.”
“The Nutleys? Alice, what are you talking about?” asked Ben.
“The A in Olivia. It has a little loop on the tail,” said Alice, pointing at the note. “It’s not obvious. But, it’s there.”
Ben frowned at Alice, then down at the note. Then, light dawned in his eyes. “You saw the note at the inn, didn’t you? Samuel showed you the threatening note.”
Alice nodded.
“That Samuel! You’re not supposed to get involved in any more police business. You know that.” Ben squinted at the lettering once more, then paused, then sighed. “Come inside. We’re bagging this up.”
Chapter 10
The Smiling Hound was famous with locals and visitors alike for its cozy atmosphere, friendly service, and delicious pub food. Countless bowls of hearty beef stew, baskets of thick-cut potato fries, and the juiciest burgers in town had been enjoyed there. Fish and chips, pot pies, gooey pizzas, and plates of mashed potatoes smothered in sausages and gravy were also on the menu—all served with a joke and a smile—and whether you liked your frosty mug filled with imported beer or root beer, you’d be sure to find something you liked at the Hound.
As the sun set over Blue Lake, Luke arrived at Ben’s house with bags of food that smelled amazing.
“Just in the nick of time,” said Alice, stepping out of the Maelstrom, onto Ben’s dock. “We’re starving.”
“I guess getting a pedal boat in racing shape will do that to you,” said Luke with a laugh. “It looks great!” He took a step closer and scrutinized the little boat. “I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Thanks,” Ben said proudly, slinging an arm across his sister’s shoulders. “We thought the serpent’s head motif on the bow was a nice touch, even if it d
oes make her a little less streamlined.”
Luke nodded. “What’s this symbol on the flag?” he asked, pointing to the flag which was attached to the stern end of the boat.
“That’s the Helm of Awe,” said Alice. “It symbolizes strength and protection. Viking warriors even carried amulets with this design—to protect them in battle.”
Luke grinned at Alice the same way he always did when she started talking history. “You have a lot of good information stored in that head of yours, don’t you?” he said. Then he leaned closer and gave her a peck on the cheek. “And a pretty head it is.”
Alice felt her face growing warm—an effect Luke often had on her.
“If you’re all done with the mushy stuff, let’s eat,” said Ben, eyeing the Smiling Hound bags.
“I got both your favorites,” said Luke, setting the bags down on Ben’s picnic table and unloading small containers filled with a selection of house specialties.
“Ugh, this hits the spot.” Alice let out a happy groan as she bit into an onion ring.
Luke slid a small bundle wrapped in tissue paper her way.
Alice’s looked at him with wide eyes. “The Crispy Turkey-Swiss Monte Cristo? I hardly ever let myself have one of these! How did you know this is my favorite?” She folded back the tissue wrapping to reveal a warm, golden-brown sandwich, lightly dusted with powdered sugar.
“I’m a detective, remember?”
“I’ll never understand that sandwich,” said Ben, shaking his head and taking an appreciative bite of his burger. “Who puts strawberry jam on a turkey sandwich?”
“And mustard and mayonnaise,” said Alice. “Then, the whole thing is fried to crunchy perfection.” She took a bite and closed her eyes to savor the balance of the flavors.
“I figured you’d want to carb-load before your big race tomorrow,” said Luke. He paused for a few moments and looked from Alice to Ben. “So, how’s the investigation going?” he finally asked.
“We’re tracking down a few different leads,” said Ben. “Of course, I can’t talk about it.”