Iced

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Iced Page 18

by Carol Higgins Clark


  Kendra and Nora were heating up apple cider. The two couples were just back from skiing.

  Such excitement, Ida thought, when the boys came through the door, followed by Kit and Regan. Hellos were exchanged while Ida helped Kendra get out cups for everyone.

  “How was it?” Kendra asked. “Cool,” Greg answered. “We should get some snowmobiles for around here.”

  “Snowmobiles you’ll use about two weeks a year,” Kendra said wryly.

  Sam came into the kitchen. “If Eben comes back, he’ll get plenty of use out of them.”

  “Will you stop!” Kendra laughed.

  “Never,” Sam said. He pulled a bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet. “How about an apple smasher?”

  “Don’t be rude,” Kendra said.

  “It’s the name of a drink, my dear,” Sam protested.

  Kendra turned to place the mugs on the table and got a good look at the laundry. Green nublets from the lone green towel were liberally sprinkled all over the luxurious pastel towels that were color-coded to the bathrooms. “Where on earth did that green towel come from?”

  Nora looked at the pile. “My darling husband is the guilty one,” she said. “He used it.”

  “What did I do?” Luke asked, appearing in the doorway.

  “You used a towel, Mr. Reilly.” Kit laughed.

  “We’re not blaming you for anything, Luke,” Kendra said. “But where on earth did it come from?”

  “It was in our bathroom,” Luke said, his eyes amused.

  “I figured a towel is a towel. My wife was surprised that I chose it. I must say I wasn’t paying much attention. I just reached in the closet and grabbed it.”

  “Luke,” Nora said. “These other fluffy towels were all lined up, and you picked…”

  “… this rag,” Kendra said, holding it up.

  Sam looked sympathetically at Luke. “Us men never get a break, do we, Luke?”

  “Absolutely not,” Luke agreed. “I thought the other towels were too good to use. And now look at them.”

  Ida started to get nervous. “I’m sorry, Kendra, I didn’t mean for it to be washed with the light towels. I did a dark load first and then I put most of it in the dryer when the phone rang. When I came back I wasn’t thinking and I thought I’d unloaded it all and I started throwing in the light towels to be washed.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kendra said immediately.

  “A red sock played hide-and-seek with me in the wash once. Then I threw in bleach and some white blouses,” Regan said. “I was just glad I liked the color pink.”

  Ida smiled at Regan. “That’s terrible,” she said.

  “It must have been one of our friend Eben’s towels,” Kendra said. “As a matter of fact”—her fingers moved along the towel to the inside corner, where she found a cardboard store tag was still stapled—”he must have just bought it.”

  “What does the tag say?” Nora asked.

  “The Ritz.”

  “The Ritz?” Nora said.

  “Just kidding,” Kendra said. She squinted. “I can just about make it out. The name of the store is the Mishmash. Ninety-nine cents,” she pronounced in her most dramatic tone. “Yes, indeed. The Mishmash.”

  “That’s the store I found the receipt for,” Nora said.

  “The Mishmash in Vail. I remember it said towels and socks and underwear. I told Luke the other day it must have been one of his towels.”

  “If he left his socks around, I’ll take them,” Kit offered.

  Patrick and Greg laughed while Regan explained the joke to the others.

  “Well, if the socks are anything like the towels, I don’t think you’re missing out on anything, Kit,” Kendra said. “And I don’t think you could find rags like these in Aspen. One more thought-provoking gift from our good friend Eben.”

  “According to the slip, he bought about a dozen,” Nora stated. She picked up an apricot hand towel and examined it.

  “I wonder where the rest of them are,” Kendra said. “Did he stick them in other nooks and crannies of the house?”

  “You know, it’s funny,” Ida said as she shook an apricot washcloth with great gusto. “I had a man come in this morning with these green nublets sticking to his cream-colored corduroy pants. He said his wife had washed them with some green towels and what a mess! The towels shed all over. So I said, ‘Where did you get towels like that? You should take them back.’ He said they were staying somewhere. They weren’t their own towels. He also brought in his tux and her formal dress to be pressed.”

  “The same thing happened?” Regan asked.

  “Isn’t that strange?” Ida said, as she folded the wash-cloth.

  “I think it is,” Regan said. “I wonder where they’re staying around here that supplies them with such lousy towels. And has a washing machine.”

  The phone rang and Greg grabbed it. “Mom, it’s for you.”

  “Hello,” Kendra said. “Oh my God, you’re kidding!”

  Everyone fell silent. “What?” Nora whispered.

  Kendra put her hand over the phone. “It’s Yvonne. Bessie’s cousin just called from Vail. She was in Denver for a couple of days and came home and got Bessie’s message that she was coming down.” Kendra paused. “She never made it.”

  50

  KIT HELD THE phone and waited as Regan stepped out of the bathroom in her terry-cloth robe. She recognized the distracted look on Regan’s face. She knew she could say almost anything to her right now and it probably wouldn’t even register.

  “Heathcliff is on the phone,” Kit whispered.

  “What does he want?” Regan asked absently as she opened a drawer and pulled out a wine-colored sweater.

  “It’s actually a wrong number. He’s looking for someone named Catherine.”

  “Oh.” Regan unwrapped the towel from her head, picked up a comb from the dresser, and caught Kit’s reflection in the mirror, twirling the telephone wire. She suddenly snapped into the present. “Kit, what are you doing?”

  “Well, join the ranks of the living. Stewart is on the line. He and Derwood want to join us for dinner.”

  Regan raised her eyebrows and smiled. “I was having deep thoughts.”

  “I know. Here.” Kit handed her the receiver.

  Regan took it from her and sat on the bed. “Hi, Stewart,” she said. “… snowmobiling was fun… actually my parents and Kendra and her husband are coming over here to Louis’s for dinner… do youand Derwood want to join us?”

  “Is the Pope Catholic?” Kit muttered.

  Regan leaned back against the pillow and smiled. “Louis is getting geared up for the party tomorrow night. I think everyone wants to make it an early night tonight… okay, we’ll see you around eight.”

  Regan hung up the phone and it immediately rang again. “Maybe Derwood just wants to hear the sound of your voice. Hello. Oh hi, Larry. We were snowmobiling today… thanks for the invitation? Who could ever find you? You’re always so busy here.” Regan smiled at Kit as she listened to Larry telling her he had no specific plans for the evening. “Well, why don’t you come over?” she said, telling him about the dinner. “Yes, Larry, Kendra already has a good dentist. See you at eight. Good-bye.”

  “Kendra will have a whole fan club tonight,” Kit said.

  “That’s good,” Regan said. “Because I know I’m not going to be such great company. I can’t stop thinking about Bessie. I can’t believe that she and Eben are in cahoots. It just doesn’t make sense. And why would she have tried to call me?”

  “I don’t know, Regan,” Kit said. “And now her poor cousin is a wreck. That’s Bessie’s only relative, right?”

  “Yes.” Regan sighed. “I feel so helpless. I want to do something and I don’t know what.”

  Kit nodded sympathetically. “Before you go back into your trance, let’s get ready and go find Louis. Wait until he hears that Bessie is missing.”

  “As far as I know, he didn’t recommend Bessie for her job. But I
’m still sure he won’t want anyone to tell Geraldine. She might decide to blame him for this too.”

  “For a party that is so anticipated, I think a lot of people will be happy to have it over with,” Kit said as she pulled a pair of jeans out of her suitcase.

  “You can say that again.”

  “For a party that is so anticipated…”

  “Kit!” Regan went back into the bathroom and switched on the hair dryer. The whirring noise around her ear seemed to blow new ideas into her brain. For the next ten minutes Regan decided what she would do bright and early tomorrow morning. Call the Mishmash and see what they remember about Eben and the green towels. Visit Ida at the cleaner’s and see if the green-nublets man came to pick up his clothes yet. It might be ridiculous but it was something.

  Dressed in their ski sweaters and jeans and boots, Regan and Kit descended the stairs to the lobby below. It was lively and festive. The room sparkled with lights and candles and a roaring fire. Glasses were tinkling, people were laughing and Christmas carols were playing over the stereo.

  Tomorrow night this place will really be something, Regan reflected.

  51

  THE TABLE WAS a lively one. Everyone looked very sporty. Kendra was wearing a bright green sweater that not only complemented her eyes but also reminded Regan of the green towels. The restaurant was bustling. Tripp took their drink orders.

  Larry had managed to get the seat between Kendra and Nora and before long had his arms around the backs of both of their chairs.

  “Hey, Larry,” Regan said. “It looks like a good photo opportunity for the dentist to the stars.”

  Kit snapped her fingers. “And to think I didn’t bring my camera.”

  Larry squeezed Nora’s shoulder. “Will you please tell them to stop picking on me?”

  Nora averted her gaze, which had been steadfast on the very handsome face of the very eligible Stewart.

  “Huh?” she said.

  “Your daughter and Kit are both mean to me.”

  “And they’re not even your patients.” Nora laughed.

  “I know. What did I ever do to them?”

  Derwood cleared his throat. “Kendra and Sam have been telling Kit and me about the play they’re opening in New York. It’s all so exciting.”

  “You seem to know a lot about the theater,” Kendra said.

  “I enjoy Broadway,” Derwood replied. “I’ll have to come to New York for your opening in February.”

  “We can all go,” Nora said enthusiastically. “Regan can come in from California, Kit will come in from Hartford. Stewart, will you be able to make it?” she asked hopefully.

  “Of course, Mrs. Reilly.”

  “Call me Nora.”

  Why not Mom? Regan thought.

  “It will be such a good time,” Nora continued. “You can bring me samples of your children’s clothes. I’d love to order some.”

  “For what?” Regan asked. “Or should I say whom?”

  “Lauren Dooley’s daughter is expecting a baby in the spring,” Nora said, with a “so there” expression. “It’s her first grandchild,” she added. “It must be so exciting.”

  “I bet.” Regan smiled and glanced at Luke, who raised his eyebrows at her and grinned back.

  “Say, Larry,” Regan said, changing the subject, “what happened to that woman you were dancing with last night? She looked pretty cute.”

  Larry crossed his legs and sighed. “Let me tell you something, Regan. Beauty fades. But dumb is forever.”

  As everyone chuckled, Regan said, “You’ve made me misty-eyed with that advice. Your sensitivity is so far-reaching.”

  “I’m glad to know that you’re looking for all the right qualities,” Kit added.

  “A heartening thought,” Sam agreed, thinking back on his experiences as a single.

  “I’ll settle down one of these days,” Larry said, clearly enjoying the attention of the entire table now.

  Regan smirked. “When the cows come home.” To Larry’s dismay, Tripp came over with the tray of drinks and distracted everyone from Larry’s favorite subject: Larry.

  “Mom,” Regan said as Tripp distributed the drinks, “Tripp here is writing his résumé. We told him you’d help.”

  In her motherly way, Nora asked, “Tripp, what kind of job do you want?”

  He smiled. “What I’d really like to do is stay here in Aspen and ski for a few more years.” He placed Nora’s white wine in front of her. “I’m the proverbial ski bum.”

  “Have you taken any computer courses?” Derwood chirped. “No matter what you end up doing, they’re always helpful.”

  Regan didn’t dare look at Kit. “You’re right, Derwood,” Kendra said. “Our sons know way more than I do.”

  “Well,” Nora said cheerfully, “if you need any help, give a shout. I’ve done everything from writing ads for Luke’s homes…”

  “What did they say?” Stewart asked, incredulous. “Don’t ask,” Regan said. “Believe me, you don’t want to know. I’ve been around for a few of the brainstorming sessions.”

  “My husband gets some funny ideas,” Nora explained.

  Luke gestured dramatically with his hands. “All I wanted to do was place an ad that reminded people that they could charge funerals.”

  “Tell them the rest of it, Dad.”

  “And therefore they could earn a lot of frequent-flier miles. My wife thought it showed a lack of sensitivity.”

  Tripp laughed and served Luke the last drink on the tray. “Makes sense to me,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Luke said, nodding his head.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes with the menus.”

  They all raised a toast to their health, wealth and wisdom in the coming year, clinking glasses with every other person at the table.

  “I hope I see you next year,” Stewart said quietly to Regan while everyone fell silent to take that first sip.

  “Mmmm,” Regan agreed.

  Now that they had their drinks, Louis must have felt it was safe to emerge from the cocoon-like atmosphere of his office. He walked over to the table with all the confidence he could muster.

  When he said hello his voice squeaked.

  “Hi, Kendra. You’re not still mad at me, are you?” he asked shyly.

  “No, I just want to kill you,” she joked. “I guess you know that the Grants’ housekeeper is among the missing.”

  Louis’s face blanched. “Yes. Regan mentioned it to me before you got here tonight. I can’t believe it. But I don’t think Eben had anything to do with it.”

  Louis’s words sounded to Regan like a prayer. She sat back in her chair. I never thought of the fact that Eben could be responsible for Bessie’s disappearance, she mused. I figured, if anything, they were in it together. Bessie was supposedly headed for Vail. What if Eben had intercepted her?

  Kendra was talking now. She waved her hand. “Eben’s been gone since Christmas Eve. He wouldn’t dare show his face in this town again. Even if he wanted to shut someone up.”

  I hope not, Regan thought. Let’s just get through tomorrow night before everyone in town starts spreading around the theory of Eben’s not only being a thief, but also a kidnapper. Regan shuddered. Or possibly even worse.

  Across the room, Willeen and Judd sat at a table for two against the wall. They were already there when Larry and his gang came into the dining room. They quickly waved hello and turned back to each other.

  “Did you check out the staircase to the basement by the ladies’ room?” Judd asked.

  Willeen fished the orange slice out of her drink and popped it in her mouth. “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure you know your way for tomorrow night then?”

  “Yeah.” Her mouth puckered as she pulled out the remains of the orange slice.

  Tripp came over to the table and tried not to look disgusted when he removed the lipstick-covered orange peel from the crisp white linen tablecloth.

  “Are you two ready to order
?” he asked in that falsely cheerful voice that waiters use when they hate their customers.

  “Not yet,” Judd said. “We’re just enjoying the scenery for a while.”

  When Tripp walked away, he added, “We need to study this place good before your big party.”

  52

  AFTER JUDD AND Willeen had left for dinner, Eben attempted to grab one of Bessie’s heavy, old-fashioned hairpins with his teeth, but he ended up leaving bite marks in her head. Finally they decided to try wiggling their bodies into a position where Eben could try to pluck a hairpin with his hands. It wasn’t easy with their hands cuffed behind them and their legs shackled to the bed. Bessie moved her body as far as she could toward the foot of the bed. Eben faced the other way and reached back. He managed to remove a hairpin and then found her hands.

  Eben was almost sure it wouldn’t work, but their only chance was if he could release the catch of Bessie’s handcuffs with the pin.

  Willeen and Judd hadn’t gone out until after dark. After that fellow came snooping around, they didn’t want to take any chances that he might come back and peek in the windows. So when they left for dinner, all the lights were out and the shades were drawn. Which meant no television either.

  Time and time again Eben tried to use hairpin after hairpin to release the lock on Bessie’s handcuffs. All to no avail. They had all bent when he tried to use them to pick the lock. “They just don’t work,” he grumbled in exasperation. But with numb fingers he kept trying. He knew that after tomorrow they wouldn’t be here. By Friday they probably wouldn’t be alive.

  Several times he felt Bessie wince as the other end of the pin dug into her palm during his attempts to free her hands. “I’m sorry, Bessie,” he said.

  “It’s okay,” she answered. “We’re on the same team.” Eben thought of all the safety catches he had released from bracelets and necklaces and wondered why the one time he really needed it, he couldn’t jimmy the lock. It was useless.

 

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