With her back still to me, she grabbed her laptop and held it high with a tormented scream before throwing it to the floor and watching it smash.
And then as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking, her cries ragged and agonizing, she grabbed her purple and white shoulder bag and yanked it open, pulling out a bottle of pills. A bottle I couldn’t see very clearly no matter how hard I tried to focus.
No. No! No! No! I wanted to scream, knowing her intent as she looked at the clear orange bottle. I knew what she was about to do. I tried to scream, I’ll help you. I’ll listen! Please don’t!
But of course she couldn’t hear me, and inevitably, I couldn’t stop her from pouring a handful of the pills into her palm and pushing them into her mouth.
She followed them up with a glass of water from her nightstand and then she lay down on her rainbow-quilted bed, grabbed her teddy bear and closed her eyes.
I can’t tell you the impending sense of doom and heartbreak I felt at that moment. As though someone’s whole world had just collapsed and I’d watched it happen without preventing it.
Tears fell down my face in frustration and anguish, my body trembled and my pulse raced.
Then there was a large palm running soothing circles over my back and a whiskey-warm voice whispering in my ear. “Hal, I’m here. It’s okay, honey.”
Hobbs’s voice soothed me, pulling me back from the edge of an abyss of helplessness.
I fell toward him, he caught me to keep me from hitting the floor. He caught me the way he always did when I had a vision. My muscles finally started to release and Hobbs grabbed my hand. He pulled my clenched fist to his chest and uncurled my fingers, massaging the digits until I relaxed. “This was a rough one, huh?”
My temple throbbed. “It was the worst,” I replied, trying to keep a sob from escaping my lips even though I felt the stain of wet tears on my face.
“Lemme get some antibiotic cream to put on your palms. Be right back.” Making sure I could sit, he dropped a kiss to my damp brow and went off to the bathroom.
Atti buzzed to the table, hopping on my forearm and clucking his tongue with clear admonishment. He jabbed at the soft heel of my hand with his tiny beak. “Oh, my sweet Halliday. Look at your hands. Shall we discuss, or is it too soon?”
I blinked as I looked at the half-moon shapes my fingernails had dug into the palms of my hands.
Atti was asking the wrong question.
The question was—was it too late? Had this vision already happened? Could I prevent it from happening if it hadn’t already? My stomach turned and twisted into a tight knot of terror.
I’d never witnessed someone attempting to leave this world. Never in life and never in a vision. Sure, I had all sorts of visions, past, present, future. Some worse than others, but never one where I wondered if the person involved needed saving.
My heart began thumping with the beat of a thousand drums. The sound canceled everything else out as I tried to remember any detail that could help me figure out where this vision stood, but nothing came to me.
The prescription bottle… If only I’d looked harder. It could have been a clue as to what the name of the woman was or what the date had been.
Hobbs sat back down and wiped my cheeks with a tissue. “Are you ready to talk about it, or do you need time to process?”
Hobbs understood these dang visions of mine. He understood, he accepted, and most of all, he supported me. That realization hit me square in the nose and I clung to it for comfort, letting it erase any residual anger over Leona.
I trusted Hobbs. Whatever he had to tell me, he’d do so when he was ready. No one understood that more than me.
Until then, I absolutely had to figure out who this woman was and if her plan to leave this world had succeeded, or if there was a way I could prevent it.
It left me filled with urgent anxiety.
I didn’t know if it had anything to do with the crime we’d stumbled upon today. I’ve had lots of visions that have nothing to do with crimes, but the niggling feeling that this girl and the man who’d fallen from the ski lift were connected stuck in my craw, and I had to do something.
With a determined swipe of the tears from my eyes, I said, “I’m ready to talk about it.”
As I explained the vision, Hobbs applied antibiotic cream to my palms, which was completely unnecessary, but seemed to soothe him as much as it did me.
“So this woman…you think she was going to…” Hobbs couldn’t say it any more than I could, but I had to if I were going to face this head on.
“Take her life,” I said bluntly, the words catching in my throat. “I know she was going to. What else can taking a handful of pills mean, Hobbs? And her vibe? It was tortured, tormented, whatever word that best describes someone on the very edge of the cliff—that was what I felt. I definitely think she was trying to harm herself.”
“But you didn’t see any relation to today’s mess in your yard?”
“No. Nothing obvious, but I feel it, Hobbs. I feel it here, in my gut.”
He pushed a strand of hair from my face. “I guess it does me no good to tell you that resting after such a horrific vision might be a good idea.”
I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. “You already know the answer to that.”
The look he gave me was resigned. “Then we need to beat feet, Cowgirl. Let’s go to the lodge and do what we do best—poke around, ask questions about Scarpetti, get on everyone’s nerves.”
I smiled at his handsome face, even though my chest was fraught with tension. “You’re okay, Texas.”
“Even though I had coffee with…what did you call her? Not-a-bottled-blonde?”
I made a face at him as I scooped up Barbra and dropped a kiss on her fuzzy head. “With long legs. She has long, long legs, and you’re riding a fine line, buddy. You’d do well to remember who has the magic in this relationship,” I teased.
“I feel like I’ve been threatened.”
I turned to head to the mudroom where I had a fresh jacket and dry boots awaiting me. “Don’t make me send my broom after you, Cowboy!” I called.
“Do you really have a broom?” he asked. “Does she really have a broom, Atticus?”
I laughed, and I was still laughing as we headed over to the lodge in his Jeep.
Chapter 6
“So, where do we start?” Hobbs asked when we entered the lodge, the warmth of the fireplace welcoming, even if every single guest appeared to be in chaos. People milled about in crowds, some wringing their hands with worried looks on their faces. Some looking confused and displaced.
Suddenly, the enormity of what we’d set out to do hit me full on. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “What if…what if we’re too late? Or we don’t figure it out and that woman…”
Hobbs pulled me tight to his side. “Don’t project, honey. One moment at a time, okay? Let’s stay focused and figure out if your vision is even connected to what happened today. We’ll keep busy by figuring this out, okay?”
That made me feel a bit better. Keeping busy was always a way to find some small measure of solace.
Still, I felt a little lost about where to begin, but Hobbs took my hand and pulled me toward the crowded desk area. “To start, let’s just open our ears and listen.”
I stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, “You mean, eavesdrop. The horror.”
He grinned, pulling off his knit hat with the light-up reindeer on it. “Yup.”
So we mingled, moving around some tourists from Japan and a group from France who spoke their native language, leaving Hobbs and I little choice but to move on because neither of us spoke French.
But we hit paydirt with a group of kids who sat on the big couches by the fireplace. According to one hysterical woman we’d passed, who was complaining to her husband, the police had ordered everyone to stay inside the lodge until further notice.
The kids were like cooped-up animals, forced to stay inside with no activities to keep
them busy.
Hobbs pulled me close and wrapped an arm around me, our backs to the couch while the kids talked.
“Holy crap, dudes!” a boy with a youthfully excited voice said. “Did you hear that guy who worked in the kitchen got whacked?”
Another one of the kids, a young girl, said, “Shut up, Hudson! Have some respect for the dead. God, you’re a jerk. I can’t believe Mom and Dad made me come on this trip with you. I could be home with my friends, going to ice skating socials and holiday parties, and instead I’m here with you and your big, stupid mouth!”
As you know, I was an only child. Hearing the siblings argue made me smile, and it also gave us a better idea of who was dead. A guy from the kitchen.
“You shut up, Galinda. You just wanted to stay home so you could make kissy face with your crater-face boyfriend!” her brother accused with a youthful voice.
The couch shifted as Galinda jumped up and yelled at her brother. “Oh, my God, I hate you, Hudson! And you better shut your face, or I’ll tell Mom and Dad what you were doing, creeping around the lodge last night. Weirdo!”
“Guys! Knock it off. Something really bad happened. It’s not a time to be acting like a bunch of immature babies. Joey was killed. He was a nice guy, and he always gave me extra dinner rolls,” a voice of reason said. “Stop being so disrespectful. This isn’t some cop show, you idiots. You can’t just turn it off and forget it. This really happened. There really is a murderer on the loose!”
I desperately wanted to turn around to see what these kids looked like, but Hobbs must have sensed it and shook his head, and he was right. I didn’t want to break their rhythm.
At least now we knew Joey Scarpetti was indeed the one who’d been killed.
Another female voice, more mature than the others, chimed in with an ominous statement. “I heard the police say he was dead before he fell from the ski lift. So yeah, duh, murder. All I know is, I wanna go home. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a dead guy.”
I had to agree with her. If I were a teenager, the last thing I’d want to do is stay at a place where a murderer was on the loose, no matter how good the tubing.
“How long are we stuck inside here, anyway?” another teen asked. “I wanna tube on the big hill today. The snow’s awesome right now. Man, this sucks.”
Ah. I remembered well the big hill. Stiles and I had tubed down that a hundred times as kids.
“Guys!” A cheerful voice entered the conversation—one that reminded me of a cruise director, complete with a clap of hands. Peppy and light. “I think I can help. I’m Clarissa, and I’m the events coordinator here at the lodge, and if you’ll all get permission from your parents, then follow me, I’ve got some super cool activities lined up for you!”
I had to turn around. The spell was broken anyhow. They weren’t going to gossip with each other with an adult there, and I was dying to see the kids’ faces when they responded to Clarissa.
“Can we go tubing?” one boy, a tween if I was guessing correctly, asked.
The short but spunky young woman, her chestnut hair in a high ponytail, her face clear-skinned and glowing, shook her head with a grin. “Nope, but I have stuff that’s just as cool! C’mon, go talk to your parents and let’s get a leg up!”
Every last one of them rolled their eyes and their shoulders drooped as they scattered to ask permission from their parents.
On impulse, I hopped in front of Clarissa and stuck out my hand. “Hi there. I’m Hal Valentine, Clarissa.”
She grinned. “Oh, right. The lady who owns the Christmas factory, right?”
Cocking my head, I pulled off my hat and asked, “How’d you know?”
“How many people do you know with the name Halliday Valentine? Besides, the factory’s legendary around here, and so is your reindeer, Karen.”
Huh. I forgot sometimes that my nana had made quite a splash in town, mooching off the kids for candy canes.
“Would you mind if I ask you a question about Joey Scarpetti?”
In a flash, her cheerful face went from light to dark as she ran a hand over her high ponytail. “What about him?”
I tucked my hat in my jacket pocket and tried to look casual. “Did you know him, Clarissa?”
Her eyes shifted to the floor. Gone was the cheerful façade. “I wanted to, if that counts for anything. I tried to get his attention—believe me, I tried,” she reiterated, in the way a woman does when she’s discovered the man she’s attracted to isn’t returning the favor. “But he gave off a not-interested vibe pretty quick. So I backed off, because boundaries are boundaries.”
“Do you think he had a girlfriend?” Hobbs asked the question I planned to be my next. If my vision was connected, maybe the woman was Joey’s girlfriend.
She shrugged, her ponytail swishing. “I dunno. If he did, he never said so.”
“Did he ever talk to you about having any trouble with anyone here at the lodge? Did he ever argue with anyone?”
She pushed her hands into her khaki trouser pockets and shook her head. “Not that I saw. Everyone liked him because he was so drama free. Plus, he was really polite, a hard worker, and all the guests loved him.”
We were off to a great start, weren’t we? “Well, if you remember anything, would you text me, please?”
She slapped that cheerful smile back on her face, even if she looked a little confused, and said, “Sure. Just put your number in my phone.”
I did exactly that and handed it back to her. “Thanks for talking to us, Clarissa.” We turned to leave but she stopped us by reaching out and touching my shoulder.
“Miss Valentine? Wait! I just remembered something. Sorry. It’s been a crazy day. I don’t know if it means anything, but Joey was asking the head of housekeeping about a specific room here. He was pretty frustrated because Millie’s partially deaf, and she didn’t have her hearing aid in that day and was having trouble answering his questions. He raised his voice with her. I mean, he apologized right away, but it was super strange to see him get so excited because he was always such a cool cucumber.”
Again, Hobbs took the questions I was going to ask. “Did he say why he wanted to know about the room? Or what he wanted to know about the room? Was anyone else around to hear this go down?”
“No. It was just me. It happened a couple of days ago, I think. Time’s sort of been a blur since the holiday crowd arrived. Millie got so upset, she ran off before he got an answer. I just remember thinking it was so strange that Joey wanted to know about someone who’d stayed in a room, and to get so upset when he couldn’t get his point across to Millie. She’s as sweet as can be. But like I said, I don’t know if it means anything.”
If I wasn’t already confused enough, this added to my confusion. All I kept hearing was how nice Joey was, but he was upset at a woman who was partially deaf? Joey had secrets…and I wanted to know what they were.
“Where is Millie?” I asked. “How can I find her to speak to her?”
“She had a doctor’s appointment today, but she’ll be in later this afternoon. I’ll tell her you want to talk to her,” Clarissa offered, looking at her phone. “Listen, Miss Valentine, I have to go. I’ve got a lot of antsy kids on my hands who aren’t thrilled about not being able to leave the lodge. I’ve got to try and find a way to amuse them until my shift is over.”
Immediately I nodded, smiling in sympathy. “You go, Clarissa, and thank you for your help.”
“Bye,” she called as she ran toward the lodge’s rec room.
“Welp, that was at least a little bit of help.”
“Guess we have a date with Millie later today, huh?”
I agreed. “I guess we do, and at least now we know for sure it was Joey Scarpetti who fell off the lift, he worked in the kitchen, and he’d left this world before he landed in my yard.”
Hobbs winked, his neatly trimmed beard lifting with his smile. “See? A clue already, and all we mostly had to do was stand around. C’mon, Lacey, let’s keep moving
toward the kitchen. Who knows what we’ll hear over the soup of the day?”
I hooked my arm through his and followed him to the café, where the kitchen was located. “Just so happens, I have a connection in the kitchen.”
“Oh yeah? Who?” he asked as we stepped around people in snow jackets and heavy boots.
“Willow Sinclair. Her aunt Agnes works at Just Claus in the lights department. She’s the chef here.”
“Then let’s see if we can find Willow.”
The café was swarming with people, all looking as concerned as the guests out in the lobby. The scent of coffee was still fresh, and empty plates and bowls sat on the tables, obviously from the lunch service.
The waiters and waitresses scurried about and the busboys gathered dishes, but the mood, despite the cheerful Christmas music and decorations, was somber at best.
I peeked into the window of the swinging doors to the kitchen, where several of the employees stood around in their white aprons, their eyes helpless and lost. I located Willow by the big stainless-steel sinks, her shoulders slumped, her arms crossed over her chest.
I caught her attention with a wag of my finger and a tap to the window. She raised a hand to wave at me, pushing off from the sinks and walking across the room to push open the kitchen doors, her face brightening a shade.
“Hal! Merry Christmas! How are you?” she greeted me warmly, giving me a quick hug scented with cinnamon and freshly baked bread. “Auntie Aggie was just talking about what a great boss you are and how much she loves the month of December off to spend with family and friends.”
I grinned. Agnes Sinclair was a real card at sixty-two, and I adored her—she was my soul mate in all the ways of colorful language. She cussed like a sailor, and I loved it.
“She’s a valuable employee and she works hard all year long. She deserves the time off. They all do, if you ask me. They work hard leading up to the holiday, and I appreciate them.”
Hobbs stuck his hand out. “Hobbs Dainty. Pleasure, ma’am.”
Carnage in a Pear Tree Page 5