by Lena Gregory
“I didn’t mean . . . uh . . . well . . . you know what I mean.” His entire face flamed red.
“Don’t worry. I understand. I know you guys don’t get to spend a lot of time together.” Everyone knew Emmett was a perfect gentleman. Cass placed one cup in front of him then walked around the table and settled herself opposite him, giving him a second or two to compose himself.
“Anyway.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “We were in the dining room talking after most everyone went to bed. We talked for a long time. When we were done, I walked Sara back to her room and said good night at the door.”
When he didn’t go further, Cass waited. This wasn’t like Emmett. He was usually blunt to the point of rudeness. He was never nasty. On the contrary, he was almost childlike in his innocence.
“When I was walking back to my room, I heard crying.” He pulled his cap off and smoothed the staticky mess of hair down. “You know I mind my own business, Cass. I don’t get involved in stuff. Everyone does their thing, know what I’m sayin’?”
“Sure, Emmett.” She reached across the table and patted his hand, hoping to soothe some of his agitation. “I know that. Everyone does.”
“Yeah, well.” He lifted his coffee then set it back down without taking a sip.
“Did something happen?”
“When I was walking past the Wellingtons’ door, I heard a woman crying. Then two people yelling. A man and a woman.” Lowering his gaze to his hands, clasped on the table in front of him, Emmett shook his head. “By then I was right outside the door. I would have kept walking. None of my business, you know? People fight all the time.”
He stared into her eyes, and she just nodded, afraid to interrupt, for fear he might change his mind about talking. “But then I heard a slap. Loud. I don’t put up with women getting hit by men. Got no tolerance for that.”
“Of course not. You’re too much of a gentleman to condone that.”
His face burned so red it was almost purple. “Well, I put my ear to the door to make sure she was okay, you know?”
Cass nodded and held her breath. Her interest level shot through the roof.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice as if not to be overheard in the empty store. “It wasn’t her that got hit.”
“How do you know?”
“He said to her, ‘no need to get violent, Joan.’”
Cass’s heart stuttered. Joan Wellington, that mousy little woman, hit her husband? Emmett had to be mistaken.
“Then she said, ‘I told you not to take it.’”
“Told him not to take what?”
Emmett’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at her as if she had ten heads. “No idea. That’s when I left. As long as I knew no woman was getting beat on, the rest was none of my business.”
Cass wanted to scream. Are you crazy? How could you leave just at the good part? But she controlled herself. Barely. “So you didn’t hear anything else?”
“Nope.” Emmett lifted his cup and took a long drink, apparently relieved now that his story was told.
“What about before the slap? Did you hear anything to indicate what they were fighting over then?”
He was already shaking his head before she finished asking the question. “Nah.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“Nope.”
Uh . . . oh . . . Emmett was back to his old self again. She sighed. “Why not?”
“They didn’t ask.”
Cass frowned. “Why’d you tell me?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t know if I would, but you seemed interested, so . . .”
Right. Of course. She rubbed her hands over her face. “Would you talk to Tank if I sent him over?”
“I guess.” He pulled his cap back on and tucked his hair underneath.
“Thanks, Emmett. I appreciate you trying to help.”
He shrugged. “Better get to plowing. I still got a lot to do.” He pushed back from the table and stood. “Thanks for the coffee. Almost as good as Bella’s.” He winked. Cass couldn’t help but laugh, and decided to consider the statement a huge compliment.
Once Emmett had gone, Cass called Tank and passed on the message. He promised he’d track down Emmett this afternoon and see if he could get any more information, but they both doubted it.
A few hours later, she crossed rose quartz off her list as she added it to the order form. She’d been unexpectedly busy this morning. With everyone from the séance stuck on the island until ferry service resumed, a lot of them wouldn’t be heading home until tomorrow. There’d been a fairly steady stream of traffic in the shop all morning. She’d already done three readings and sold several baskets. Things were looking up. Now if it could just be that busy all the time, she might be okay.
And to top things off, not one person had asked for a refund. Yet. Of course, she’d have to refund at least part, if not all, of the money, but it was comforting to know she had a little time to figure it out.
The wind chimes tinkled a second before Beast charged the door.
“Stop right there, mister.” Bee tossed a french fry over the dog’s head while Stephanie cowered behind him.
The big dog skidded to a stop, then backpedaled and squirmed to change direction. Somehow he caught the fry midair.
Bee laughed. “You never miss, do you, boy?” He stamped his feet off on the mat, then turned and took the cup holder from Stephanie. “Okay, it’s safe now.”
Wiping her feet, Stephanie held up three McDonald’s bags. “Hungry?”
Cass’s stomach growled in answer. “I haven’t had a chance to eat anything today. I’m starved.” She took the bags from Stephanie so she could take her coat off, and put them on the table.
Bee slid drinks onto the table, hung his coat on the rack, and sat. “Me neither. Of course, this is my normal breakfast time.”
“Well, some of us have been up for hours.” Cass ran the mop over the floor by the door, her need for organization winning out over her need for food.
“Come eat before it gets cold.”
Beast sat beside the table staring at Bee, his tail wagging wildly.
“No more. You only get when you don’t beg.”
Making a noise similar to a whine, Beast slid his back end out and laid on the floor, head cradled on his front paws.
“Oh, fine.” Bee tossed him another fry. “But that’s it.”
Seeming to understand, Beast took a toy and settled down to chew.
“Hey. How come he listens to you?” Cass asked.
“Because I mean it when I say no.” He started doling out food. “Got you a Big Mac. Is that okay?”
“A Big Mac is always okay, Bee.” Cass sat and opened her food. “You’ll never guess who came in this morning.”
“Emmett.” Stephanie tossed Bee a couple of ketchup packets.
“Thanks, hon.”
“Tank called?” Cass asked Stephanie.
Stephanie laughed. “Yup.”
“So, what do you make of it?” Bee asked around a mouthful of food, then patted his mouth daintily with a napkin.
Cass shrugged and swallowed a fry. “I don’t know. They were obviously fighting about something.”
“Who says it was Conrad?”
Cass stilled, her drink halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”
Placing his burger in the cardboard box, Bee sat back. “Well, just because it was the Wellingtons’ room doesn’t mean Conrad was in there with her.”
She hadn’t thought of that.
“Maybe Conrad was already in the cupola.”
Hmm . . . “Emmett seemed to think it was him.”
“Yeah, but did he just assume it was because it was the middle of the night and Conrad’s room? Or did he recognize the voice?” He grabbed a fry. “For that matter, who’s t
o say it was Joan Wellington?”
“Emmett heard him say ‘Joan.’”
“Still, could have been a different Joan.”
The chances of that were slim, but Cass made a mental note to check the guest list and see if there were any other women named Joan on it. She tried to think through her visit with Emmett. Had he ever actually said he thought it was Conrad Joan had been arguing with? Or had Cass just assumed?
When Beast stood and started pacing, Cass hurried to finish her meal. She’d just taken the last bite when he started to whine. “Okay, boy. I’m coming.” Leaving the mess on the table for now, Cass grabbed her coat.
“I’ll take a walk with you, if you want.” Bee patted his hard stomach. How he managed to stay in such good shape and eat the way he did never ceased to amaze Cass. “Need to walk off that Big Mac.”
“Sure. You want to come, Steph?”
“Yeah, just let me lock the door and turn the ‘Back in five minutes’ sign over.”
Cass started to clip the leash to Beast’s collar while Stephanie and Bee put on their coats, then changed her mind. The beach was empty, and Beast loved the chance to run free now and then. When she pulled open the back door, a foot of snow stared back at her. Beast didn’t even hesitate, just barreled through it at full speed.
They followed him as he dove through snow banks and headed toward the beach.
“The bay is still pretty rough,” Cass said. “Have they restored ferry service yet?”
“Not that I know of,” Bee replied.
Beast ran back toward them and stopped. They all stopped with him, huddling together in a small circle to keep warm. It was unusual, even in winter, for the bay to be so empty. Fishing boats, or people coming and going from work on the mainland, were common at all times of year. But today, the churning, choppy waves made it too dangerous for most.
“Is he almost done yet?” Bee wrapped his arms around himself, his teeth chattering.
Cass glanced at the dog, who was still hunched over. She tilted her head for a better look. “Maybe you shouldn’t have fed him those french fries.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. That dog eats everything he sees. I doubt the french fries did anything to gum up the works.”
“There he goes.” Stephanie leaned over. “Hey. What is that?” She started to laugh. “Don’t even tell me . . .”
Cass and Bee bent for a closer look at something sticking out of the mess Beast had finally managed. “Oh . . . oh no.” A large diamond stuck out of the steaming pile.
“No way.” Bee lurched back, laughing so hard he almost fell over in the snow. Tears clung to his cheeks. “Do you think she wants it back?”
Cass just stood, staring at the ring.
“That’s quite a rock,” Stephanie said through fits of laughter.
“I don’t understand how he got it.” Cass shook her head. There was no way she was digging that ring out.
“Who knows? How does he get anything?” Bee rubbed his cheeks.
“She probably dropped it in the hall and he sucked it up. That dog is like a vacuum cleaner.” Stephanie started walking back toward the shop.
Bee followed, leaving Cass to decide what to do. She pulled a small garbage bag from her pocket and scooped up the mess—ring and all—then dropped it in a trash can on her way back to the shop. Let Donald buy another one. If the jewelry and furs Sylvia had been sporting were any indication, Donald was much better off now than he’d been when they were married. Or at least more generous. Figured.
Maybe she’d give Sylvia a call and tell her where she could find the ring. At least then she’d get the satisfaction of watching Donald dig it out.
9
Cass pushed through the back door of Mystical Musings, scattering snow across the floor as she entered. Maybe she should have shoveled the back porch too. It hadn’t seemed necessary with all the snow drifts along the beach. She doubted too many people would trudge through that. But it would make walking Beast easier.
“Hey, Cass.” Stephanie held the phone out to her. She covered the receiver and mouthed something Cass couldn’t make out. If the anger furrowing her brow was any indication, it wasn’t going to be a happy phone call.
Taking the phone, Cass shrugged out of her coat. “Hello?”
“Cass?”
“Yes.” She worked to place the voice but couldn’t think of any grown man who whined like that.
“Mitch Dobbs here.”
Ahh . . . “Hi, Mr. Dobbs. How are you?”
“Well, you know, I’m not real happy.”
Uh-oh. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“I paid a lot of money for this weekend, and I didn’t get anything out of it. I want a refund for the whole weekend. I paid for readings for me and my wife, a group reading, a séance, not to mention the cost of the room, which I might add, wasn’t worth the price I paid. Robbery, I tell you.”
Cass dropped into a chair, propped her elbow on the table, and lowered her head, massaging her temples with her free hand. “I’m willing to work something out with you regarding the readings, Mr. Dobbs, but I can’t refund the cost of the hotel.” This guy had to be kidding if he thought the fees for his accommodations were her responsibility.
“I already talked to Jim Wellington about the cost of the room. I told him I’m adding it to the list he already owes me.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “Already owes you?” Crud. One of these days she was going to learn to keep her big mouth shut. Maybe. Probably not.
Mitch snorted. “Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how much we’ve already laid out in legal fees trying to get what’s rightfully ours? I deserve some compensation. Don’t you think?”
Cass pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. This guy was stark raving mad. She glanced at Bee and Stephanie. Stephanie must have filled Bee in, because his expression filled with sympathy and he rolled his index finger in circles beside his head.
Shaking her head, she put the phone back to her ear. “Look, Mr. Dobbs—”
“Before you go getting your panties all in a twist about giving back the money, we all had an idea.”
This time she bit her tongue until the coppery taste of blood forced her to stop. No way was she asking who we all were.
“We’re holed up here at the Bay Side Hotel until at least tomorrow, so we figured you could come on up here and do the group reading sometime tomorrow. Then if anyone wants an individual reading, like me and Carly paid for, you could do those, too.”
Actually, she had to admit the idea wasn’t half bad. If she could do the readings, she could get away with keeping the money. What difference did it make where she did them? At least she’d be off the hook for some—hopefully most—of the refunds. Plus, she really wanted to make the event successful. The thought of sending all those people home disappointed burned a hole in her gut.
“You there?”
“Uh . . . yes. Sorry. I was just trying to think if that would work.” At most, Henry Stevens might charge her to rent a ballroom. She’d still come out ahead. “Sure, Mr. Dobbs. I can do that.” Of course, if she could get the customers to come into Mystical Musings, she might have a hope of selling some of the extra inventory she’d ordered for the weekend. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll see if I can work something out with Mr. Stevens to rent some space for a group reading tomorrow night at the hotel, but if anyone wants to have an individual reading, they can come by the shop during the day tomorrow. I open at ten, and I’ll clear my schedule for the day to do the readings.” Because I’m so swamped with clients all day long. Ugh . . .
Static hissed in her ear over the silent line. Had he hung up? She pressed the phone harder to her ear. Muffled voices carried through the line. Apparently he was discussing the plan with whoever we were. He could have at least told her to hold on.
“Su
re. That’ll work. And you should get Mr. Stevens to give you a ballroom for free, with what the Wellingtons are paying to put us all up in this place.”
“Wait. The Wellingtons are footing the bill for the Bay Side Hotel? For everyone?”
“Yup.”
She should probably just let it go. She knew that in her head. Unfortunately, nosiness got the better of her. It usually did. “So, if they’re paying for your new hotel room, how do you figure they owe you money for the other room?” Was it just her? She looked at Stephanie and Bee and lifted a brow.
They both nodded emphatically in agreement.
“Duh . . . are we staying at the bed-and-breakfast?” He didn’t wait for an answer. The dial tone sounded in her ear.
She hit the off button and put the phone on the table, then turned to Stephanie and Bee. “The guy’s a lunatic . . .”
“Yeah, but his idea was brilliant.” Bee grinned.
Stephanie stood and grabbed a colored pencil and a sheet of paper from the shelf behind the table. “See, I told you it would work out.” She sat back down and smoothed the paper. “Okay, now, what are you going to need?”
Cass’s heart warmed. “You’re the best.”
“Hey, don’t forget me.” Bee winked. “This is something I can do.”
“You’re both the best.” Her smile was short-lived. “But first I have to call Doc Martin.”
Bee swiveled to look at Beast, lying quietly on his dog bed in the corner. “Is he all right?”
“I don’t know, but he usually doesn’t lie on the bed.”
“No . . .” Bee agreed. “He usually eats it.”
• • •
With a vet appointment made for four o’clock and Bee and Stephanie running errands for tomorrow’s impromptu readings, Cass started to re-stock her shelves and bins. If she hurried, she could probably get the store cleaned up before she had to leave with Beast. Then she would only have to come in a little earlier tomorrow to make a couple of big pots of coffee and set out the snacks and stuff. With Stephanie helping, it wouldn’t take long. Bee probably wouldn’t make an appearance before noon.
The tinkling of wind chimes announced a customer. Cass straightened and arched her back, pressing a palm to the ache. She slid a tray into the glass case. “Hi. Can I hel—”