“Well, better late than never. I think he’s really cute and he’s so nice besides.”
“And he likes pink.”
“Okay, maybe that was one of the selling points. But even if he didn’t I’d still think he was cute.”
“He is, in a strapping, strong kind of way.”
Pinky sighed. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long, long time.”
“I agree. When Mark first suggested having the guys join us, I was disappointed thinking they’d take away from our girl’s night. But they definitely added to it. You could tell by looking around when we were eating and playing the game that it was the kind of evening each one of us needed.”
“That’s a good way to put it, Cami. It really was and we need to do stuff like that more often.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“My bed is calling me, so I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Sleep tight, my friend.”
“You, too.”
Thinking about Pinky calling Jake cute brought a smile to my face. She’d been married for a short time and was too scarred after it ended to think about diving into another relationship anytime soon. So one year passed and then another without her getting serious about anyone. If Jake turned out to be a good fit for her, we would all celebrate.
Back to business. I sat up straighter in my chair, logged onto the city’s website, then found the meeting video. I moved the cursor over to the twenty-three-minute mark, when the microbrewery discussion started. I wanted to delve deeper by observing everyone’s conduct and their interactions with each other. The mayor and councilors had distinct, and very different, personalities that came across during the meeting.
Mayor Frost was a natural peacekeeper. I’d witnessed that many times when a citizen questioned him about issues, sometimes when he was getting his morning coffee at Brew Ha-Ha. Or when I’d overheard him trying to settle Marvin Easterly and Harley Creighton down when they’d been so riled up. His talent for diplomacy was evident in the council chamber also.
Wendell Lyon was professional and tended to be more on the logical and thoughtful side in his approach. Gail Spindler had been silent during the discussions, making it difficult to get much of a read on her at all. However, the looks she and Rosalie Gorman exchanged spoke volumes, like poison-pen chapters of a novel. And Gorman was much quieter than normal.
And finally, there was Harley Creighton. What was the reason he was so adamantly against the microbrewery? He might have had a drinking problem or been raised to believe that alcohol was the root of all evil. And no doubt, alcohol abuse had destroyed countless peoples’ lives. Something worth checking about him.
Besides the city council members, Marvin Easterly was the only other person at the meeting who raised any red flags for me. Probably because, in addition to the loud protests that got him ousted from the meeting, he’d paid two separate visits to Mayor Frost on the day he was killed. And I’d heard with my own ears how angry he was.
I went back to the part when Wendell Lyon was asking the attorney Harris if there was any reason the council should be concerned about the clothing factory deal and the attorney said there wasn’t. Mayor Frost had shifted in his seat and raised his hand a little, like he was going to say something but then changed his mind.
On Wednesday morning, when Marvin Easterly was yelling at Mayor Frost, before Harley Creighton interrupted their discussion, he’d told Frosty he suspected him of something underhanded. His words came back to me: “There are people that wonder if you’ve got some special interest in that clothing factory, the way you’ve been talking it up.” I moved the time indicator back to take another look at Frosty’s face when the attorney said the council should have no concerns. He was uncomfortable. Had he been involved in the children’s clothing factory deal, beyond visiting the Murphys on behalf of the company?
Wendell Lyon and Gail Spindler were on my list of people to talk to. I needed to get their take on a few things. But not tonight. Lyon had been around a long time and it seemed he paid close attention to what was going on and studied the issues that came before the council. He’d be a good source of information for a new council member, whoever that might be. Observing Gail Spindler’s behavior during the meeting brought the expression “Still waters run deep” to mind. Were those waters always still, or was there something that was pulling her under the surface so all she was able to do throughout the meeting was tread that water?
I honed in on Rosalie Gorman again, and there was no mistaking she’d sent Spindler a number of dirty looks during the meeting. And I was willing to bet that Spindler could not wait for the council meeting to conclude so she could take her leave. I was curious if the women had words before the meeting, or if Gorman was saving them until after it was over.
Four council members, one mayor, and two issues that had led to heated discussions. Did that add up to anything underhanded? Or did one of the individual council members have another reason to want the mayor out of the picture permanently?
I shut down the computer and moved to the couch to relax before bed. I looked at the ceramic bowl on the coffee table where I’d dropped every penny from heaven that had mysteriously appeared in my path through the years. It was growing to be a sizable number, and the question was, what would I do when the bowl was full? When I found one I was getting some sort of a heads-up. So the more I pondered it, I realized there was no earthly reason to hold onto them forever. It’d be far better to cash them in at the bank, and then find a family in need or a worthy cause to donate the balance to. I smiled at the revelation. Paying it forward by gifting others was at the heart of the Christmas spirit.
• • • • • • • •
I woke up Saturday reflecting on the bizarre dreams that had filled my night, wondering what in the world had sparked them. My biological parents were in most of them, but they didn’t have an active role. They were there as observers more than anything else. I was in Mayor Frost’s office looking at the diamond on the floor. I bent over and picked it up. My parents were next to me so I extended my arm then opened my hand for them to see it. They held each other’s hands and closed their eyes.
They were in others, but I couldn’t recall any specific details about them. Except the last one, the one that woke me up. My mother, father, Mayor Frost, and I were sitting at a table in the mayor’s office. My father had a bowl full of gigantic diamonds sitting in front of him. He slid it over to the mayor. Frosty looked down at it. First he frowned, then he nodded, and then he was gone. Visible then invisible. In what seemed like the same moment, my mother handed me a bowl of pennies. It was my own ceramic bowl and it felt like it weighed next to nothing. I was about to set it on the table when I noticed the bowl of diamonds was sitting in front of me. The bowl of pennies was suddenly too heavy for me to hold and I dropped it on top of the diamonds causing one of them to bounce out of its bowl. Then I woke up.
I shook my head, amazed how people who had been gone for over thirty years could be sitting at a table with someone who’d recently died, and someone who was still alive, and it could seem perfectly normal in a dream. My parents were frequent visitors in mine and it was natural and comfortable having them with me. My mother handing me the bowl of pennies made sense because I believed she’d sent them to me in the first place. One by one. But my father giving Mayor Frost a bowl of diamonds was strange. What was the significance of that?
• • • • • • • •
Pinky called as I was ready to walk out the door, just before eight o’clock. “Hey, Cami, guess who just had to call in sick again? Emmy’s friend Lester finally talked her into going to urgent care, to check for pneumonia.”
“Pneumonia? Poor Emmy. We should bring her some hearty soup.”
“I offered to do that. She said she appreciated the thought, but we absolutely should not do that because she doesn’t want to expose us. Emmy’s worried
enough that Lester will catch it.”
“It’s a relief knowing she has Lester looking out for her, anyway. I’m just leaving, so I’ll see you in a few.”
“Good. We got Emmy out and Nicoline coming on board. Do you get the feeling we’re in for another crazy day?”
We hung up and I heard the little bird pop out of the living room clock and deliver eight consecutive cuckoos. “Very funny,” I called out as if he could hear me. I was hoping it wasn’t a sign of things to come. Or eight of them.
I drove to work with my dreams whirling around in my mind. I loved it when my parents were in them. The funny thing is, at age thirty-seven, I was ten years older than my mother, and eight years older than my father had been when they’d died. Yet in my dreams I always felt they were older, and certainly wiser, than me. And every once in a while when I looked in the mirror it struck me that while I kept getting older, my parents would always stay their same young selves.
14
My cuckoo clock had been right: Pinky’s shop was so wild with customers when I arrived I could barely squeeze by their bodies to get around the counter to help her. I dropped my coat on her rack and my purse on the floor by the refrigerator when I got to the other side. And before I knew it, it was time to open Curio Finds. Nicoline was waiting patiently by the archway, telling the inquiring minds that we’d be turning on the lights shortly.
She was nicely dressed in brown slacks, a tan turtleneck, and a button-down knitted brown sweater that had some horizontal tan lines woven in. It was the first time I’d seen her without a cap covering her dark brown, long, and wavy hair. She had it parted on the side and pulled into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. The bruise on her cheekbone had lightened to a pale shade of green. No longer very noticeable. I smiled as I hustled by and waved her in with me. “I’ll get the lights, if you’ll unlock the door and turn the sign to Open,” I said.
We barely had a chance to talk over the next hour as people spilled in both from Brew Ha-Ha and from the street. Nicoline was great with the customers, assisting them as best she could. My main jobs were ringing up orders and gift wrapping some of the purchases. There were no cries for help from next door, but as it neared ten o’clock, I asked Nicoline to check in with Pinky to see how busy she was.
She was back in a minute. “Pinky said your friend Erin is on her way in to help. And Mark is there now, making drinks.”
“Mark?” I said and she nodded. “All right, I’ll be right back.” I walked over to the archway and sure enough, Mark was behind her counter wearing jeans, a soft plaid shirt, and a pink apron. And I’m not kidding. No doubt he had stopped in for a cup of coffee and gotten roped into making them for others instead. I snickered and got back to work. I saw Erin scoot by the archway a few minutes later.
Both shops quieted down just after eleven o’clock, so our growing crew of helpers took the opportunity to straighten up the shops, then take a short break. All five of us grabbed a coffee and scone or muffin, and sat down at a back table. Nicoline resisted at first. “I will sit in Curio Finds and watch for shoppers.”
But Pinky put an arm around her and guided her along with the rest of us. “Don’t be silly. Sit down and join us.”
“Mark, I gotta say, you look good in pink,” I said.
“I know. It brings out the best in me.” He took too big of a bite and muffin crumbs dropped onto his plate.
“Erin, Mark, I would have been in such deep doo-doo if you hadn’t come in,” Pinky said.
“Glad to help out,” Erin said.
“Ditto,” Mark managed around his mouthful.
A woman in a long quilted coat came through the archway from Curio Finds. When she pulled off her wool hat I recognized her right away. Gail Spindler. I stood up and went over to greet her. “I apologize, I didn’t hear you come into the shop. I should install a bell like Brew Ha-Ha has,” I said as I guided her into my shop.
“And I’m sorry for interrupting your break. I came by earlier but your shop was packed.” She extended her arm. “We haven’t officially met, I’m Gail Spindler.”
I shook her hand. “Camryn Brooks. No biggie about the break. How can I help you?”
“I’ve thought of calling you a number of times, but a personal visit seemed better,” she said and unzipped her coat.
“Sure. Can I take that for you?”
“Thanks, but I won’t be long, seeing how busy you were not long ago.” She looked around, like she was considering the best place to talk.
“I’ve got an office, let’s go back there. It’s small, but it’s more private.”
“That sounds good.”
I stuck my head into Brew Ha-Ha and waved Nicoline back into the shop. “We’ll be in the office for a bit, if you’d mind the store. But call if you need help, okay?”
“I will.”
I led the way to the office. It wasn’t much bigger than the shop bathroom, about six feet by six feet, and held a small desk, a file cabinet, and two bentwood chairs with round seats. An office chair would have taken up too much space. I sat down in the chair behind the desk and Gail took the other one.
I guessed she was about five-four and shopped for her clothes in the petite section of stores. She wore her highlighted brown hair in a becoming shoulder-length bob. She studied me for a moment and it felt as though her wise-looking eyes belonged on a much older person. Like a ninety-year-old, not a sixty-year-old. Her overall persona was calming. Maybe that’s how she dealt with her abrasive counterparts—she was able to rise above them and their antics.
I was dying of curiosity, secretly willing her to spit out what she had to say.
“Camryn, I’m here for two reasons really. First of all, I know Lew—Mayor Frost—talked to you about the council seat after Harley Creighton said he was stepping down.”
“He did. He told you about that?”
Gail smiled shyly. “He confides, I mean confided, in me about most things. And I did the same with him. We’ve been very close for some time. I’ve loved Lew for years, but I’m not in love with him, if you know what I mean. He’s been a dear friend, a shoulder to cry on. Not everyone understands that, and it’s caused some disruption among the council members. Some jealousy.”
Was that what Rosalie’s sour looks were all about? Was she the possessive unnamed woman in Frosty’s life? “Gail, I watched the video of Tuesday night’s council meeting, and it was evident Rosalie was upset about something, and it seemed she was directing her unhappy looks at you.”
Gail nodded. “This has been one of the worst weeks of my life. I’d like you to keep what I’m about to tell you between the two of us.”
“Of course.”
“Rosalie was convinced Lew and I were having an affair. I’ve been faithfully married for almost forty years, and I’m in love with my husband.”
“What made her think you were having an affair?”
“I was giving Lew a comforting hug on the anniversary of his wife’s death a few weeks ago when Rosalie burst into his office. She made some remark about the two of us always whispering together about something, and hasn’t let it go.”
Lila had made a similar comment about the way Rosalie entered Frosty’s office the afternoon he died. Was she a drama queen, or was there something more disturbing going on with her?
“Did you talk to Rosalie about it?”
“I tried and she wouldn’t listen. Lew said to just let it go, that she’d simmer down eventually. But if you ask me, she’s just gotten worse, to the point that I think she needs professional help. She and Lew went out a couple of times and she got the wrong idea of how he felt about her. Lew was never interested in a personal relationship with Rosalie, for many reasons. One of the big ones, of course, is they served together on the city council. And the other big thing was her possessiveness.”
I nodded as I considered her words. Rosalie
was likely the one Frosty was talking to his son about.
“Camryn, the reason I told you all that is because I know Rosalie has paid you a visit and I was concerned she’d said things about me and Lew that weren’t true.”
“Yes, she did come to see me. But no, she didn’t say anything about you.”
Gail smiled. “I guess I could have just asked you that right off the bat. And I don’t make it a practice of talking badly about my fellow council members, but I needed to clear the air on that.”
“I appreciate that.”
“The other reason is, Lew had spoken highly of you and your family, so when he told me he thought you’d do well on the council, I agreed wholeheartedly. It appears Harley won’t be stepping down after all, but now we have”—her eyes filled with tears—“an empty seat.”
“I can tell you this much—I’m thinking about it.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Gail, did Mayor Frost talk about his mother’s pendant, or ever show it to you?”
Her eyebrows rose, showing her surprise. “Why, no, he didn’t. The police asked me about that, too.”
“I thought they would have. Back to council issues for a minute, if I could. Some people think Mayor Frost was cutting a deal under the table with the clothing factory he wanted to bring to town, like giving the company tax incentives to build it.”
“To tell you the truth, I wondered about it myself. But he wouldn’t talk about it at all, even to me.”
“If there was one person you had to name that you think killed the mayor, who would it be?”
She looked down at her hands then back at me. “I don’t know. I left the office about three o’clock that day. His door was open and so I stuck my head in to say good-bye. He was doing some paperwork and told me to have a good night. The last thing he said to me was, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’” She dabbed at her wet eyes with the back of her hand.
Frosty the Dead Man (A Snow Globe Shop Mystery) Page 15