Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 02 - Inn the Doghouse

by Heather Horrocks

  “The day before he died. But he was alive when I left. The busybody, old lady next door with the binoculars saw me.” Matt shrugged. “I went up there. I was trying to appeal to his sense of decency and return the property. I found out he didn’t have any sense of decency.”

  “We spoke with the busybody neighbor lady. She said you did some shoving.”

  Matt nodded. “I did. And he did. And then I left. I didn’t see Gene again.”

  “Is your money safe, Grandma?” I asked, worried about Gene’s possible dishonest streak.

  “Oh, yes. Gene has handled my affairs for years and there’s never been a problem.”

  We chatted for a few more minutes, and Grandma promised to look over the brochures Matt handed her. Then the four of us left the office, with Matt closing up as we walked out.

  We watched him cross the street to his car. I said, “He sounds like he might have a motive. And why were you asking all those questions that you already knew the answers to?”

  “I was just fishing to see if he would say anything he hadn’t before. Because his alibi hasn’t checked out yet,” Paul said. “Nearly everyone else has already been cleared, except for one.”

  “Which one?” Grandma asked, as she took our arms again.

  “Gene’s brother, Jeff. The waitress who saw him at the time of the murder was on an extended

  trip to Europe and didn’t have phone service. She got back and said she did remember him being there that night. She remembered him because he was a regular and seemed pretty bummed that night about Gene not giving him the money he needed to avoid bankruptcy. She talked to him for awhile because the café wasn’t very busy. And he left a hefty tip.”

  “So does that mean Jeff is innocent?” I said. “Or could he have murdered Gene after dinner?”

  “Time of death was within ten minutes of the time Jeff was eating; so, yes, it looks like he is innocent,” Paul said.

  “And Matt is looking more guilty.” I unlocked the doors to my Jeep.

  “For the moment.” Paul opened the door and helped Grandma in.

  “Does he have an alibi?”

  “Just his own word. He went home early and worked in his den. His wife was upstairs with a cold, lying down. He could have slipped out without her knowing.”

  How could I get Matt to tell me more? To get him to slip up verbally, perhaps?

  “Thanks, Paul,” Grandma said as she motioned for him to lean in and kiss her, which he did.

  Liz called just then. “I’m stopping at the Moose Muffin Café for dinner. Do you and Zach want to join me?”

  “Grandma and I are in town. Zach refused to leave his new dog—I’ll explain later—and so he stayed at the Inn with David. Knowing David, he’ll probably have food ready. Come to the Inn with me.”

  “Come on. I’m starving tonight. We’ll just stay a few minutes, and then take treats to David and Zach.”

  “Long day at work?”

  “Yup. But I didn’t cry once.”

  “That’s an improvement.”

  “See you there in, say, twenty minutes?”

  “I need to call David and see if it’s okay if I’m gone a little longer. I’ll tell him that I’ll bring dinner home for a change, and call you back.”

  The call took only minutes. Yes, David was okay with me being gone. Yes, he had already begun dinner, so don’t bring any home. And have fun.

  I asked Paul and Grandma, “Want to join Liz at the Moose Muffin?”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  Grandma said, “Drop me off at home. I’m a little tired tonight and want to get plenty of rest before my wild party tomorrow.”

  “What wild party?”

  She laughed. “A group of my old friends get together in Park City every year between

  Halloween and Thanksgiving to have a pumpkin-carving contest and eat pumpkin pie.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  I called Liz and told her.

  Paul helped Grandma into my Jeep and closed the door, then turned to me. “I don’t want you asking people questions, Vicki. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  My heart sank. “I have to do something, Paul. I can’t just sit around and wait for the deputies to haul off my sister.”

  He spoke sternly. “I want you to stay out of this. Liz is my sister, too, and I’m doing what I can. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I responded, more that I was acknowledging receipt of the message than that I took it as an order. I still had to ask questions; I just had to be more careful about it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Liz looked much better, with color in her cheeks. She had a platter full of food—burger, fries, milkshake, the works—and I was glad to see her digging into it. I hoped it meant she was finally over the worst of the stress-induced pallor she recently wore.

  When I called David, he told me Zach was still pampering his new dog.

  “His potential new dog,” I corrected.

  David just laughed. “Whatever you say, boss lady.”

  I ordered fries that I didn’t even have to share with Grandma because I dropped her off at home, as per her request.

  The café was about half full on a Saturday afternoon. Liz and I chatted while I dipped my fries in fry sauce and enjoyed them. I started unwinding and took a deep breath. I was relieved that, for the moment, nothing drastic was happening. We’d had too many drastic things occur lately.

  My relief was short-lived when the door opened, and DeWayne Smith and the new Mrs. Smith came in, fresh from their Vegas honeymoon.

  Worst-case scenario coming up. I looked from the newlyweds to my sister.

  Liz seemed shell-shocked. She looked down at the table and sucked in shallow breaths, trying to regain her composure.

  My heart was racing along with hers. Only one week ago, he declared his undying love for her. One week ago! What was he thinking?

  The other people in the café called out their congratulations to the couple.

  Paul did, too, then moved toward the door, pulling out his cell phone and answering as he stepped outside.

  I was torn, but I finally chimed in, “Congratulations.”

  I turned to Liz and whispered, “Sorry.”

  She raised her face and shrugged. Then, she did a very classy thing. She also called out, “Congrats, DeWayne, Crystal.”

  DeWayne looked over at her and his happy expression slipped. Then he smiled and raised a hand to us.

  Crystal tugged on DeWayne’s arm, leading him to an empty table next to our booth, trapping us there, unless we wanted to look ungracious. DeWayne looked as reluctant to be there as I did at having him there.

  Next, we got to see firsthand all their public displays of affection. Crystal couldn’t seem to keep her hands off DeWayne, the best man in the world.

  Liz kept her eyes down and I thought I heard a sniffle, but she just shook herself and looked back up.

  “Do you want to go?” I asked her in a whisper.

  She shook her head and whispered vehemently. “No. I am not going to run from this. It is what it is, and I have to live with it, and I’m not going to have anyone in Silver City talking about poor Liz Eklund who lost her husband and her ex-beau within days of each other.”

  Next in the door was Crystal’s father, Bernie Maynard, carrying her little girl. He set the child down, and she scampered over to the table, straight to DeWayne. He picked her up and said, “How’s my princess?”

  Bernie’s normally gruff face split into a smile at the little family, then he turned to us. “Isn’t it great?”

  “Great,” I echoed.

  “He’s even adopting my granddaughter. He’s quite a man.”

  Liz coughed while I said, “Yes, he is.”

  Paul came back inside, pocketing his phone. His expression was serious. He sat down and lowered his voice. “Liz, I have some news.”

  “More good news?” she said, glancing at DeWayne and his new wife and child.

  Paul followed her gaze, then sat be
side her, blocking her view of the table. He lowered his voice. “This is important. I just learned that Gene was not the father of Misty’s baby. It was Colton, that young kid who followed her into town.”

  Liz caught a ragged breath. “Gene didn’t get her pregnant?”

  “No,” he said kindly. “No, he didn’t.”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Thank you. At least the baby wasn’t Gene’s.”

  I took her hand and she squeezed it hard.

  With her other hand, she reached for a napkin.

  But I couldn’t help remembering Gene telling Misty to “take care of my boy.”

  “There’s still something off here,” I said.

  Paul added, “Colton went to Gene’s house on the night of the murder, threatening Gene, fighting him, and punching him.”

  “Mrs. Gotschaub knows how to rock those binoculars,” Liz said.

  He smiled. “She said she wasn’t surprised Gene had a black eye because Colton punched him in the nose.”

  “Paul,” Liz said, sounding forlorn, “do you think Gene was still having an affair with Misty?”

  “No, sis,” he said. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you everything. We spoke with Misty earlier today. Apparently, Herbert’s daughter—Misty’s mother—got pregnant as a teenager and left town, which caused no end of grief for Herbert. Gene didn’t cheat on you with Misty. But years ago, way before he even knew you, before he started dating you, he dated her mother. He got her mother pregnant.”

  “He got Misty’s mother pregnant?” I asked, stunned. “Misty is Gene’s daughter?”

  “No,” said Liz, shaking her head in disbelief and pushing back her plate.

  “She came to town to meet both her father and her grandfather. Colton followed her because he wanted to marry her.”

  “Did Herbert know who Misty’s father was?” I asked. “If so, he would have been doubly repulsed at the thought of incest.”

  “Herbert didn’t know.”

  That piece of the puzzle clunked into place. So when Gene told Misty to take care of his boy, he meant for her to take care of his unborn grandson, not his son.

  When the door opened the next time, it was Detective Mary Beth Shannon of the Park City Sheriff’s Office with Lt. Joe Josephson and two other cohorts. They scanned the crowd, waved hello to DeWayne and Paul, and walked to our table. I had a bad feeling about this.

  “Liz Eklund?” Mary Beth Shannon said, not unkindly.

  “Yes,” my sister said weakly.

  “You are under arrest for the murder of your husband.”

  Liz stood up and I reached for her. “No.”

  But she looked back at me and Paul. “Find out who did this.”

  Then they read Liz her rights.

  In front of the entire crowd at the Moose Muffin Café.

  In front of the new Mr. and Mrs. Smith. DeWayne looked stunned. He stayed seated by his bride, but his muscles were bunched like he was having to restrain himself from going to Liz’s side.

  At least, they didn’t handcuff her.

  I got up and followed them out the door.

  Paul was right behind me. “Where do you think you’re going, Vicki?”

  “To the jail.”

  “No. You can’t. You’re too upset.”

  Liz looked so vulnerable climbing into the back of the cruiser.

  When I started to cry, Paul pulled me into his arms. “Come on, I’m going to drive you home to the Inn.”

  “I can’t. I have to go with her.”

  “Vicki, let’s go to the Inn. I’ll call an attorney. We’ll come back for your car later.”

  Stunned, with my heart aching, I climbed into Paul’s car.

  Paul said, “I’m going to take Zach to my house tonight. I’ll ask Mom to come up and stay with you. Call Cielo and ask her to come in tomorrow. You get up and go to church, then go home and take a nap, and meet at my house for dinner tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll do whatever I can for Liz.”

  “Okay,” I muttered, feeling like a deflated balloon.

  How could this have happened?

  How could the deputies be so wrong?

  How could my sister be going to jail again?

  ~ ~ ~

  Sunday, November 20

  It was time for me to leave for church, but I couldn’t face going. I couldn’t stand all the questions and generic sympathy from people who wanted to know more about Liz being arrested. Today, I settled for a prayer at my house rather than making a formal appearance.

  All that evening and into the next morning, something poked around on the edges of my mind, telling me I should have caught something, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  We had talked to a lot of people, folks with conflicting stories and some with outright lies. But how could I know who was telling the truth and who was lying? I was nowhere near a human lie detector. Sure, I could tell when Zach was telling a whopper, but that talent didn’t help me now.

  Cleaning up after the Inn’s large breakfast spread, putting dishes into the dishwasher, and washing pans were all tasks that didn’t require my mind, so I kept trying to figure out what was bothering me. What did I miss?

  Cielo attempted to herd me out of the kitchen, and she insisted on fielding all the guest requests and questions. Finally, she shooed me from the kitchen by telling me I had to go downstairs. She softened her words with a hug, and I agreed. I hung up my apron, and went downstairs. After booting up my laptop, I checked my emails.

  That’s when I found the email from Paul. He forwarded the Vegas honeymoon pictures of Crystal and DeWayne, along with a note that he and his new officer had driven Liz’s car back to the Inn last night. They left the keys in the kitchen on the key hook. Paul included a few more pictures that I hadn’t seen before.

  With a sigh, I enlarged them and went through them slowly. Oh, DeWayne, I think you actually had a chance with my sister this time. Why couldn’t you have waited just a little longer? One more day, that’s all.

  Just then, I reached the photo with the picture in the background. I was so stunned the first time at seeing Crystal and DeWayne kissing in the foreground that I didn’t pay more than a slight amount of attention to the backgrounds of any of the pictures. But one picture caught my eye this time. The couple was standing in front of a poster-sized, framed picture labeled “Big Winner.”

  Then I came across another picture where DeWayne and Crystal stood on either side of the Big Winner picture and were motioning up to it.

  And a third one where the camera just took the Big Winner picture, itself. And that big winner looked like Gene. I enlarged it and could just make out the name plaque. Gene Eklund.

  So Gene did win big in Vegas.

  I zoomed in on the face. Brown eyes, the haircut he’d worn for years, Dockers and a button-down shirt.

  Stunned, I sat there, my mouth open, but no sound came out.

  The facts were conflicting. Gene was a big winner in Vegas. But Liz swore he didn’t gamble and she never knew of any big wins. But Gene’s new blonde secretary said a casino called Gene about a gambling debt.

  Oh, Gene, what kind of trouble did you get yourself into?

  I felt a stab of pity for my poor brother-in-law, who seemed to show such promise but fell so far before being killed.

  Wait. Gene’s new secretary said Gene took the call before she’d gotten there. Lamont told her that. And Gene’s old, trusted secretary was no longer there.

  Norma. I’d call Norma.

  I looked her up on the internet and found the number. But when I called, three different times over the next hour, she didn’t answer.

  I paced for a few minutes, my thoughts whirling. Finally, I grabbed my coat. I intended to talk to Lamont about the picture and Gene’s gambling just to see if he knew more than he realized he did. And I prayed he knew enough to get my sister out of jail.

  ~ ~ ~

  Liz was still in jail, Grandma had retained an expensive attorney, Paul was trying to mak
e

  sure Liz was treated well, and Cielo was helping me out.

  I found Cielo and told her, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Thanks for covering for me.”

  She smiled. “Do you want me to organize your office while you’re gone?”

  “Good luck with that,” I said.

  As I drove, I wondered what was happening to my sister. I could feel a note of fear in my heart, and knew I was picking it up from Liz, as part of our twin connection.

  But what was the connection between Gene and his gambling debts? Was he killed because of them? Or because of the frequent business deals in which he cheated people? Or because of his infidelity? He had had affairs with numerous women.

  But he didn’t cheat Grandma. And he wasn’t the father of Misty’s baby.

  Snow began to fall. As I drove, I hit a slick spot on the road, right next to Horse Feathers. I turned the wheel, back and forth, while the rear of my car swerved, until I finally regained control. Heart pounding, I clenched the wheel. I needed to be more careful. The last thing this drama needed was for me to wind up in the hospital.

  On the outskirts of Silver City, I pulled over and checked my phone’s map. I had never been to Lamont’s house. He and his wife lived on the outskirts of Park City, about twenty minutes away.

  As I drew closer, I hoped that Lamont could tell me something about Gene’s gambling, or that he knew anything that could ultimately point the finger of suspicion at someone besides my sister. I really hoped Lamont could shed some light on the gambling mystery. Then I planned to track down Norma and see what she knew.

  I blinked back tears. In my mind, I knew Liz was being treated well, if only because of Paul. But my heart knew no such thing. Liz was terrified. And so was I.

  Worst of all, if the real murderer wasn’t found, Liz would go away for a long, long time.

  I resisted the urge to accelerate. The roads between Silver City and Park City were also slick.

  About twenty minutes later, I reached Lamont’s street. One large house was decorated with pumpkins and had lots of cars parked in front and across the street. An older woman was slowly working her walker up the curb, and another older woman accompanied her.