by Krista Davis
But when we walked into the inn, Holmes and I stopped dead.
Twenty
Aunt Birdie was waiting for us beside a rather large suitcase.
“Hmmpf. I didn’t expect to see Ben here. Holly, perhaps Mr. Huckle can take my luggage up to my room.”
“Your room? Oh, Aunt Birdie. I believe you misunderstood me when I said we’ll see you later. We’re full up. There’s not an unoccupied room in the entire inn.”
“No matter. I’ll stay in your grandmother’s apartment.”
“We could probably fit a rollaway bed in the living room if you don’t mind sharing with Mr. Huckle.” It was a little audacious of me, but I couldn’t help myself.
Ben and Holmes snickered.
“There’s nothing amusing about that. I believe you have a guest room? I don’t mind sharing your suite.” She removed her faux leopard print coat and held it out to me.
“Ben and Holmes are staying with me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I see I’m not a minute too soon. The moment your grandmother leaves town, this place turns into a den of iniquity. Mr. Huckle is not doing his job properly. I shall have a word with him.”
“Aunt Birdie, there’s nothing to be agitated about. You can sleep in the comfort of your own home knowing that they’re here to help me if we get another big blast of snow.”
Her expression and tone changed. “I thought you needed my help.”
“Is that pine in your hair?” asked Ben.
No wonder Birdie was giving me that look. Ben reached toward me, but I backed up a step and felt my hair for pine. Sure enough, I pulled a pine needle out.
Mr. Huckle toddled up to us. “Miss Holly, if I am not mistaken, you haven’t had time for lunch. Perhaps you, Miss Birdie, and your gentlemen friends would like to take tea while I man the desk for a bit.”
So this was how it would be. On Oma’s return, she would hear that Trixie had found another corpse, I had hired a murderer who stole a guest’s necklace, and instead of working, I had entertained gentlemen callers.
I raised my chin and summoned every ounce of dignity I had left. “Thank you, Mr. Huckle. That’s very thoughtful of you. I believe I’ll just stop upstairs for a moment to fix my hair.”
As I walked toward the stairs, I ignored Ben’s question, “How did you get pine in your hair?”
Five minutes later, I joined them at a table by the fire. I needn’t have worried for a moment about Mr. Huckle’s comment about my gentlemen friends. They appeared to have bonded over Blanche. They had taken seats from which they could see her enjoying teatime with Ian, Geof, Char, and Robin.
Blanche wore another off-the-shoulder sweater and tight leggings that matched the color of her saluki’s fur. The sweater was trimmed in rhinestones, and she looked every bit a star.
“If you don’t stop staring at Blanche, I’m going to make you change your seats.”
Holmes and Ben sputtered excuses.
“Seriously. How would you like it if every woman in the room was watching you? Get up!”
With about the same level of happiness as the little boy who had lost his favorite sled, the guys changed their seats and shifted their drinks so that I was looking in Blanche’s direction and Holmes’s and Ben’s backs were to her.
“Thank you,” I said.
We had just taken our seats again when Aunt Birdie joined us.
Shelley showed up with tiny, single servings of mac and cheese and set them before us. “Cook is trying out Mac and Cheeselets as an alternative to cucumber sandwiches in the wintertime.” She set two bowls on the floor for the dogs. “Mac and Tease for Trixie and Gingersnap.”
I peeked in the bowls. They were eating fast but I could make out macaroni, hamburger, and just a tease of cheese. “Thanks, Shelley.” I helped myself to a Mac and Cheeselet.
“Since when is mac and cheese served for afternoon tea?” sniffed Aunt Birdie. “This isn’t proper at all.”
“We haven’t had time for lunch. You don’t have to eat it. Maybe Shelley could bring you cucumber sandwiches.”
“No need. I’m rather fond of mac and cheese. A pedestrian dish, yet curiously satisfying.”
Shelley made a face but returned to the kitchen and brought us a pot of tea.
We all dug into the savory dish, perfect for those who had been out in the cold. The Parmesan on top crunched ever so slightly—the best part if you asked me. But no one was asking or talking. We ate like we were starved.
Twinkletoes and Leo stretched out by the fire, making for a charming scene.
At the next table over, I could hear Myrtle and Sylvie.
“How long do cats live?” asked Sylvie.
Myrtle put down her cucumber sandwich. “About the same as a dog, I guess. Twelve, fourteen years?”
“That long? I had no idea.”
“Are you thinking about getting a cat?”
“No. There are just so many cats and dogs around here that one can’t help wondering about these things.”
“I’m far more interested in murder. It had to be the wife,” said Myrtle. “The age difference is staggering. He had to be as old as her parents.”
I smiled to hear her speculation on Murder Most Howl. But I noticed that Weegie and Puddin’ were enjoying tea at a different table, not with other members of their book club.
“Don’t they always look at the spouse first in a murder investigation?” asked Sylvie. “I bet she married him for his money. She probably got tired of the old coot and knocked him off.”
“There was a huge age difference. What could they possibly have had in common?”
“I have never understood that,” said Myrtle. “I know why men like younger women, but what could that girl have been thinking?”
“Now those are sensible women,” muttered Birdie. “They probably never invited two young men to share their sleeping quarters.”
“What do you bet he already had a mistress?”
I tried to hide my smile. Once they discovered that Lillian was the baron’s mistress, Myrtle and Sylvie would suspect her instead of the wife.
“I think we have to make another trip around to see the merchants. Some of them probably know the scoop. Like the fellow in the bookstore, he seemed to know everyone.” She paused to take a bite of a smoked salmon pinwheel. “What we need is an excuse to visit the wife.”
Aunt Birdie shot me an appalled look.
Holmes muttered, “Visit?”
Everyone except Ben stopped eating and listened rather openly.
“I wonder where she lives,” said Myrtle. “We could take her some flowers.”
Under my breath, I said, “Am I the only one who thinks they’re talking about Norm?”
“Myrtle,” said Sylvie, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’d be appalled if someone in your family had died and some stranger dropped by to question you.”
Yikes! I jumped to my feet before I thought about what I should say. My abrupt movement alarmed little Ella Mae, who raced over to me. Trixie opened one eye but Gingersnap didn’t budge from her snooze by the fire.
I bent to pick up Ella Mae, buying myself a little time to think of something that wouldn’t sound like I was scolding our guests. Clutching the lively little dog, I approached the table where Myrtle and Sylvie sat.
“Are you enjoying teatime?” I asked.
“Everything is so delicious,” raved Sylvie. “I don’t know that I’ll have room for dinner tonight.”
“I’m so glad.” I lowered my voice. “I’m afraid I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, and I wanted to be sure you understand that the prizes are only for solving the murder of the Baron von Rottweiler.”
Myrtle flapped her hand in disgust. “There’s no way anyone can win that. Those two brothers—” she flipped her hand toward Ian and Geof Tredwell “—have made it impossible to get information from any of the other players. They stole my weapon from me in broad daylight, right in front of you, and you didn’t do a thing a
bout it. Then somehow they stole the candlestick, too. They cheated, and what’s worse, you helped them.” She glared at them with open contempt. “Besides, there’s a much bigger prize in solving Norm’s murder—bringing a real killer to justice. That’s far more important than any ridiculous game.”
Twenty-one
I froze at her words. “Myrtle, the local police are working on Norm’s murder. I don’t think it’s wise to interfere.”
Myrtle drew her head back and stared at me as though I was being outrageously insulting. “My, my. Says the woman who hired a criminal to go into people’s rooms and steal from them. If the local police are anything like you, they’ll never solve the case. A killer wouldn’t have a thing to worry about here.”
Her words stung, but I had to keep my cool. “I’m pleased to assure you that the local policeman is very competent.”
Myrtle stared straight ahead and jammed a giant bite of the salmon pinwheel into her mouth. She intentionally avoided looking at me, and acted as though I weren’t there. I knew when I had been dismissed.
I smiled at Sylvie, who gave me an apologetic look.
I sucked in a deep breath of air and moseyed over to the Tredwells. Char reached up, and I handed her Ella Mae. “How are you enjoying your stay?”
“Everything is just delightful,” Char assured me. She turned to look at Blanche. “Blanche didn’t want to come on this trip, but I think she’s even enjoying herself now.”
Blanche nodded. “After tea, Charlotte and I are taking the dogs for massages.”
Geof snorted.
“You’re not going?” I asked Robin.
“Please. I can get a massage anywhere. I’d rather walk around and enjoy the scenery while I’m here.”
“Holly, Geof has lost his money clip. Has anyone turned one in?” asked Ian.
My throat closed up. Shadow. What else had he taken? “Oh no. I’m so sorry, Geof,” I choked. “I’ll tell the staff to be on the lookout. Where did you last see it?”
Char beat him to a response. “Holly, don’t worry about it. I’m certain he left it in a restaurant or a store.”
Geof looked a little miffed. “I could swear I saw it in our room yesterday morning.”
I smiled but goose bumps rose on my arms. What else had disappeared from the inn?
I promised to keep an eye out for it, wished them a lovely afternoon, and returned to my own table, where Shelley had replaced the platter of Mac and Cheeselets with a three-tiered server loaded with tiny sandwiches and fabulous sweets.
Sylvie and Myrtle had left, hopefully not to pester Savannah.
“Can you believe her?” Holmes licked cream off his finger. “She’s acting like Norm’s death is the game.”
Aunt Birdie plucked a slice of apple Bundt cake off the server. “Really, Holly. You should find a better quality of guest. Has she no sensitivity for anyone? Imagine the nerve!”
“I have a feeling she’s somewhat disagreeable by nature.” I finished the few remaining bites of my mac and cheese, ready to dig into the pastries. Near my feet, I heard muffled snorting. Gingersnap’s eyes were closed, and her paws twitched like she was running in a dream. I smiled when she barked in her sleep again.
At that moment, Weegie approached our table. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I was wondering if you might have another room I could move into for the rest of my stay.”
Given the issues with Shadow, I hoped she didn’t have a plumbing issue. “Is something wrong with your room?”
“Yes. Myrtle is staying there.”
“Weegie, I’m so sorry. We’re booked solid. I don’t have anything that isn’t occupied.”
Aunt Birdie piped up. “She doesn’t even have room for me. And I’m her only living blood relative.”
Holmes’s eyes met mine, and it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. My mother, Birdie’s sister, was alive and well, not to mention their parents, my half siblings, my father, and Oma.
Weegie’s entire body sagged. “I can’t stand another night with that woman. Honestly. Isn’t there some little corner? An office maybe?”
“If some of your friends will take you in, I could put a rollaway bed in their room.”
She brightened up immediately. “Oh, thank you!” She scuttled back to the table where she’d been eating, chatted for a moment, and returned. “It sounds like Fetch is a pretty good size. Would that work?”
“Absolutely. I’ll bring up a bed shortly.”
“What a relief. I have learned a powerful lesson this weekend. You don’t know a person until you travel with her. I always liked Myrtle but the woman is a nut. Spending an hour with a person once a month can be so misleading. Almost anyone can act sane for an hour or two. Here we are in this beautiful resort, and all she can do is complain. That woman was born with a glass half-empty. Now I know why none of the others would room with her.”
“I’m glad you were able to work things out.”
She thanked me again and returned to her friends. I could hear them agreeing to help her move her belongings immediately.
Ben set down his fork and observed me. “You handled that very well. Does it happen a lot?”
“It’s not uncommon.”
Holmes reached for a scone and laughed. “When it’s a married couple, then you’ve got real problems.”
The dining area had begun to empty out. I sipped my English breakfast tea and slathered a scone with cream and blackberry preserves.
“I certainly am enjoying this. You have most interesting guests. Do you need my help with one of them?” Birdie looked at me over the edge of her teacup.
“Our handyman quit.”
Birdie choked on her tea. “Gracious, I hope you’re not going ask me to be the handyman!”
“I needed to hire a new one. I happened to meet Shadow Hobbs—”
Birdie interrupted me. “Oh dear.”
“I was hoping you could tell us what happened when Juliana died.”
“That was a terrible tragedy. Somehow those gel packs of laundry detergent landed in Juliana’s takeout. Apparently they’re quite deadly. I had no idea. They say the package was on the counter where Shadow was packing food, and he must have slipped them into Juliana’s order. Some sort of stew or chili, I think it was. It’s so caustic that it didn’t take much.”
Ben’s eyes grew round. “That’s despicable.” He placed his hand on his throat like he felt the terrible poison.
“There are those, including me, who never believed that Shadow did it. They had him, no doubt about it. His fingerprints on the package condemned him.”
“Why did you think he was innocent?” I asked.
“I’ve known Shadow since he was a baby. His real name is Hollis Junior, after his dad, but they called him Shadow because he followed his father everywhere. If you saw Hollis, you knew little Shadow couldn’t be far behind. He was the sweetest boy. Why would he go and murder Juliana? He testified in court that he barely knew her.”
“What about the owners of the business? Did they have a beef with Juliana?” I asked.
“Not that I ever heard about. It was a tragedy all the way around. Norm lost his wife—”
I interrupted her. “Norm? Juliana was married to Norm?”
“Yes, of course. He was devastated.”
Norm kept turning up like a bad penny. Of course, in that case he had been a victim.
Birdie continued, “The owners lost their business and everything they owned. Such a shame. They were a cute young couple. Things were going so well for them. They had bought Randolph Hall and had done such a lovely job of fixing it up. As far as I know, they didn’t have any issues with Norm or Juliana. Wagtail was just on the cusp of turning into a dog and cat resort. Of course, no one would eat anything they cooked anymore. They went out of business and moved away. We all thought it horribly ironic that Norm bought Randolph Hall at auction—” she paused for effect “—with the money he got from suing them.”
“And it all happe
ned because of Shadow,” I muttered. I shuddered at the thought of losing the Sugar Maple Inn that way. “I have to let him go.”
“Don’t do that!” Aunt Birdie seemed surprised. “It was several years ago, and if it was his fault, it was an accident. Doesn’t he deserve a chance to redeem himself?”
“Where has he been working since then?” I asked. “He has that cute cabin. He must be making some money.”
“Odd jobs.” Holmes sighed. “He cobbled that cabin together with discarded building material.”
“Even those huge windows?” I was doubtful.
“You’d be surprised what builders will discard. They ordered the wrong size and gave them to him for free just for hauling them away. He helps clean snow off the highway down the mountain with his truck. Things like that.”
I was so torn. I wanted to help him. Shadow was clearly industrious and talented. He’d already proven that he was a hard worker. “I don’t know what to do.”
I told Aunt Birdie and Ben about the missing necklace.
“That doesn’t sound like him at all,” protested Birdie.
I watched her. She’d steered me wrong once before. Way wrong. The trouble was that I liked Shadow. I liked what I had seen of him. I was only scared because of something that had happened a few years ago. “He wouldn’t be in the kitchen or involved with the laundry . . .”
Shelley and the cook had put in a long day. They stopped by our table to say good-bye.
“We’ll be here in the morning,” promised Shelley. “You should still have gas to warm food, even if the power goes out. Buckle down and stay safe.”
Aunt Birdie looked frightened. So that was the reason for bringing her suitcase. She was afraid to be alone in the storm.
“Aunt Birdie, maybe you should stay over to help. You know how to waitress, don’t you?” I teased. “We can put another rollaway bed in my apartment. It’ll be like a slumber party.”
She sat up straighter. “Well, if you need me . . .”