by Dawn Eastman
“I think people are going down to lunch,” Seth said. He stood with his ear to the door.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I said. I pushed the key down into my jeans pocket and followed Seth into the hallway and downstairs.
The dining room was in disarray when we arrived. René’s hat was askew and he had a wild look in his eyes. He and Wally hastily set the warming pans on the buffet table. They had put out sandwich makings again, a crock of soup, and a large bowl of salad.
Wally brought pitchers of water, and had set up cans of soda on the drinks table.
“What’s up with the chef?” Seth muttered to me.
I shrugged and watched as they continued to set up. I glanced at my watch—it was a little after noon. Maybe René got thrown by being a few minutes late? I would be surprised if a couple of minutes made him so anxious. Especially with this group.
I approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Can I help with anything?”
He spun to look at me and I stepped back. He shook his head no.
“I think we have it under control now,” he said. “I was meeting with Jessica about the plan for next week if we can’t get our deliveries. I thought Emmett would set up the buffet, but he’s disappeared.” René held his hands out.
“What do you mean disappeared?” Mac said from behind me.
“He’s not in the kitchen, or downstairs, or anywhere else he should be,” René said. “I haven’t seen him since breakfast cleanup.”
“Oh, no,” Mac said. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out into the hall. “I heard a snowmobile a few minutes ago. I thought it was Kirk and his snowblower, but now I’m worried Emmett may have run away.”
I started to ask why Emmett would run away, but Mac held up his hand.
“Kirk told me about his investigation.” Mac leaned forward and dropped his voice. “He thinks Emmett is our cell phone smuggler. I need to go find Kirk and we might have to go after Emmett.”
“I’ll keep working on the other situation here.” I didn’t have time to tell him about finding the key and the money in the box before he strode off into the back hall.
As I walked back to the dining room, I wondered again where Vi had gone. If she’d been here, she probably would have tried to tag along on the snowmobiles to keep an eye on her number-one suspect, Kirk. I could hardly wait to tell her she’d been tracking an undercover cop.
Seth was chatting with Lucille and already halfway through his lunch when I entered the dining room. Mom and Dad sat with them. I saw that Wally now manned the buffet table and René had left the dining room. I served up a small bowl of soup and sat with my group.
Lucille complimented Mom on her tarot reading. Mom blushed and waved her comments away.
“Has anyone seen Vi?” I asked.
They shook their heads. “Not recently,” Mom said. “She was in the lounge when I started the tarot readings, but she left toward the beginning and I haven’t seen her since. Is something wrong?”
“No, I just . . . wondered.”
“It’s not like her to miss lunch,” Lucille said. “I hope she isn’t feeling unwell.”
“She’s not in her room—we were just up there,” Seth said.
“Oh?” Mom said, and turned toward me.
I squeezed Mom’s hand. “I’ll look for her after lunch.”
Mom nodded and went back to her meal, but her brows remained furrowed and she only pushed her food around her plate.
“Lucille, didn’t you have a yarn-bombing project for Seth?” I asked to deflect attention elsewhere.
“Yes, I do.” Lucille turned to Seth. “Maybe we can do that after lunch?”
Seth nodded and continued slurping his soup.
I finished my soup and excused myself. I felt Mom watching me leave the dining room. I didn’t want to get the rest of them worried, but I felt edgy and unsettled; something was wrong.
Vi could easily get lost in her pendulum daze for hours. I assumed she was still up in the turret room interrogating her swinging crystal. Or maybe she had finally caught Duchess and was trying to pry some information out of the cat. Either way, I decided to go back to the last place I had seen her.
38
I was out of breath when I reached the top of the steps. I swung the door open and was disappointed to see the empty room. I stepped inside. Everything was essentially as we had left it—the shoes still littered the floor, the open curtains allowed a patch of sunlight to creep into the room. Duchess lay on her side, spread out in the sunshine. She sat up when I moved toward her. Those gold eyes held mine, and she began to purr.
“Have you seen Vi?” I asked the cat. I didn’t expect an answer but had to talk to someone.
The bathroom was also just as we had left it, and also no Vi.
I left the cat in her patch of sun and went back downstairs. I stopped at our room, but it was also unoccupied. Where could she be?
Then it came to me—maybe she had gone out to see the dogs. She sometimes liked to sit with Tuffy and Baxter when she was thinking. She said they helped her concentrate. I took the stairs two at a time and headed to the back hallway.
I grabbed Seth’s coat, which was by the back door. His coat was way better than mine for this kind of weather. My sister remembered winter here in Michigan, but she must have embellished it in her mind. She’d sent something that could probably keep a person warm at the North Pole—before global warming. I walked to the cottage, thinking about where I would look if Vi weren’t there.
I also had a decision to make now. Vi would not win our bet, focused as she was on the undercover cop. But she’d still want to open the detective agency together. I had begun to see it take shape. Maybe it would be the answer to my jobless situation. It felt like I’d be taking over a classroom full of preschoolers, but if Vi was going to do this anyway, I might as well get involved if only to keep her out of trouble. And, I had started to warm to the idea. Working to focus my “gift” over the last couple of months had honed my ability to locate things. At the very least I could be a psychic lost and found. I just hoped I could find Vi, and soon.
Baxter and Tuffy greeted me enthusiastically at the door and bounded out to meet me. Tuffy stopped in mid jump when he realized I wasn’t Seth. Before I had a chance to snap a leash on him, Baxter ran through the snow flinging the fluffy stuff over his head. Tuffy stayed much closer to me, did his business and returned to the doorway, where he sat shivering.
I clapped my hands and called to Baxter. I saw him dive into a snowbank, tail wagging.
“Come on, boy! Let’s have a treat!”
At the word “treat,” he pulled his head out of the snow and whirled in my direction. He had something in his mouth. He ran at me, full force, and I braced myself for impact. I didn’t want him racing through the cottage covered in snow, plus I had to get whatever he had found away from him. I just hoped it wasn’t anything dead.
Rather than run into me, he stopped just in front of the door and dropped his prize at my feet. I bent to pick it up, my brain not willing to believe what my eyes were telling me and not wanting to make the connections it was making.
Vi’s bright pink and purple striped mitten sat on the ground. Vi adored these mittens; they were the first pair she had managed to make that fit humans and not some alien life form and she had been wildly proud of them. She’d made others over the years that were much better than this pair, but she always returned to these. She’d used yarn that had belonged to my grandmother and said they reminded her of her mother’s love of bright colors and winter walks.
I knew I wouldn’t find Vi in the cottage. Alarm bells sounded in my brain. I had to find her, and fast. The snow fell in big heavy flakes and the temperature had been dropping throughout the afternoon. I had worried about Mac and Kirk venturing out in this new storm and now Vi was out in it as well.
/> Thinking about Vi’s love of these mittens had my brain spinning in other directions. Sometimes the things we work so hard to make or to preserve take on a life of their own. Protecting the past can become a mission, or an obsession. I wondered what a person would do to protect his or her heritage, even from one’s own family. I thought about the list we had found in the box.
I gave the dogs their promised treat and shut them back in the cottage. I followed Baxter’s paw prints to the place where he had found the mitten, dreading what I might find. But there was nothing. Just a trampled snowdrift.
I pulled the hood up against the wind and realized Seth had stuffed his ridiculous fur-lined deerstalker hat in the hood. I put it on and rethought my position on the hat. It was soft and warm and my ears thanked me. I put Vi’s glove on my left hand and stuffed my other hand in the coat pocket. I felt Seth’s penknife and a pack of gum.
I surveyed the landscape, looking for footprints, but the snow and the wind had smoothed everything except the area Baxter had just stepped on. Some slight depressions headed into the woods. Clutching the knife in my pocket, I followed the only lead I had.
I was fairly certain they were footprints and as I got to the edge of the trees, the prints became more clear. There was more than one set. They walked into the woods where the land sloped down and away from the castle. The shed where Clarissa’s body was stored sat at the top of the slope and the prints curved around behind it. I knew I was now lost to view from the hotel.
I called Vi’s name every few steps but there was no response. Finally, I heard a weak “help” off to my left. I turned and followed the sound. I spotted the mate to the mitten in another snowdrift, but this one moved when I approached.
39
I rushed to Vi’s side and brushed the snow off of her.
“Vi! Are you hurt?”
Her whole body was covered with snow like someone buried in sand on the beach.
She didn’t answer and I slid my arm under her head to try to get her to sit up. I heard a muffled snap behind me and turned just in time to see a large tree branch swing toward my head.
I ducked and the branch glanced off my left temple. If I hadn’t been wearing Seth’s hat and hood, I would certainly have been seeing stars. As it was, I fell on top of Vi.
I quickly got up and moved away from Vi. If there was a branch-wielding lunatic in the woods, I didn’t want Vi caught in the cross swings. I dodged to the left and turned just in time to see the branch swing again. I spun toward it and grabbed it as it whistled past. The person at the other end was thrown off balance and we both fell to the ground. The assailant was bundled up like a Michelin man and wore a ski mask.
I rolled onto the branch to keep my attacker from using it again, but before I could turn, he or she was on top of me, trying to bury my face in the snow. I tried to fight but I couldn’t get a grip on the slippery coat.
The snow burned my face, it was so cold. I felt her—and I knew it was a woman now—pushing my head into the ground and pulling on my scarf at the same time. She thought she could strangle me with my own scarf. I reached over my head and tried to grab any body part I could. I came away with the ski mask but didn’t slow the efforts of the maniac trying to choke me.
I remembered Seth’s knife and fought to get my hand into the pocket. I momentarily felt the scarf tighten as I only held it with one hand. I barely felt the coldness on my face anymore and it was hard to breathe. The snow was thick—a moment of fear flashed through me. Could a person suffocate in snow? I didn’t want to find out. Flicking the knife open, I reached behind and jammed it into what I hoped was a leg. The blade was too short to penetrate very far past a heavy coat, but it would go through the thin pants I had felt while grappling with my attacker.
A satisfying howl resulted when I made contact. I felt her grip loosen and she rolled off of me. Even before I turned I was certain I would see Linda.
She scrabbled away from me, clutching her thigh where I had stabbed her. I was still worried about getting Vi to safety and trying to figure out how to subdue Linda and drag Vi to the hotel when I heard huffing and snow-crunching noises.
“What’s going on back here?” Wally rounded the corner of the shed. His eyes grew large when he took in the scene of me holding a short Boy Scout knife and looming over a moaning Linda.
“Wally, thank goodness,” I said.
He stood straighter and looked at me warily. “What’s going on?” He took a step back.
“Linda just tried to kill me and Vi.” I tilted my head toward where she lay under the snow. “Vi needs to get back to the hotel.”
“She’s lying, Wallace!” Linda said. “She’s the one with the knife.”
Wally hesitated and looked at me. I showed him the Boy Scout knife, folded it, and tossed it to him. “Vi really needs help, Wally.” I pointed to where she lay, still and silent.
Wally rushed to Vi’s side and finished brushing her off. “She’s really cold,” he said. “Did she pass out?”
“I’m not sure how Linda got her out here, but we need to move Vi inside quickly,” I said.
“Right, of course,” Wally said.
He turned to Vi and picked her up. Since she couldn’t weigh more than one hundred pounds, I figured he staggered under the weight of her coat and all those sweaters. He took a few unstable steps and then put her feet down in the snow. He put his hands under her arms and dragged her backward toward the hotel.
Linda whimpered quietly as I hauled her to her feet. I kept a firm hand on Linda as she hobbled toward the hotel, making a much bigger show of her injured leg than I thought necessary.
It was a noisy procession with Wally huffing and puffing and Linda gasping each time she took a step.
“How did you know we were out here?” I asked Wally.
“I was looking out the window from one of the upstairs hallways to see how much snow was piling up.” He stopped dragging Vi so he could catch his breath and talk. “I saw Mrs. Garrett heading in this direction. She never ventures into the woods in the winter if she can help it, so I came out to see what was going on.”
“I’m so glad you did.” I smiled gratefully at him.
That seemed to galvanize him and we quickly made it to the inn.
I opened the back door and swung it wide so Wally could get inside with Vi. Then I shoved Linda in before closing it against the cold.
René met us in the hall. He stopped short, taking in the scene.
“I thought you might be Emmett,” he said. “I heard from Holly that Emmett took the snowmobile and Kirk went after him,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“Vi might be hypothermic,” I said. “Please find Heather. She’s the blond one and she’s a nurse.”
“I know where she is,” Wally said. “I’ll go get her.”
René took Vi’s limp form from Wally and rushed her to the lounge.
Linda’s head hung and her hair covered her face. It looked like she had given up on the idea of escaping, but I didn’t trust her.
Dad and Seth rushed toward us as we stood in the back hall.
“We heard Vi was hurt,” Dad said. “Where is she?” Dad was breathing hard and his shock of white hair seemed to stand even taller than usual.
“Wally went to find Heather,” I said. “René took Vi to the lounge.”
Seth ran down the hall to check on Vi.
“Clyde, are you okay?” Dad asked. He searched my face and squeezed me into a bear hug.
“I need to go call the police,” I said to Dad. “I’ve got our murderer.”
Linda slumped against the wall and held her hand on her leg wound.
“She’s been hurt,” Dad said.
I looked at Linda, who had now begun to moan in light of Dad’s sympathy.
“She’ll be fine,” I said. “Keep an eye on her until I get back. I hop
e Wally knows a place we can put her until the police get here.”
I rushed to the front desk and called 911 from the landline. I reported the need for an ambulance if they could get through and asked her to get a message to Pete Harris that we had a suspect in custody. I then ran back to Dad and Linda.
Just as I arrived at the back hall again, Wally and Seth approached. Seth’s eyes were big and he said, “They took Aunt Vi into the lounge by the fire.” He swallowed and looked from me to Dad and back. “She’s not waking up.”
“Dad, we need to secure Mrs. Garrett somewhere,” I said. “Wally, I don’t trust her—do you have a place that can be locked?”
Wally shook his head. “Not really.” He glared at Linda. “But I know where Kirk keeps the zip ties.”
Jessica ran toward us down the hall. She was out of breath.
“Mom! I just talked to René. What’s going on? Are you okay?” She moved to examine Linda’s leg.
I stepped between her and Linda. “Your mother is under arrest.”
“What? What for?” Jessica stepped back, her hand to her chest.
“Reckless endangerment, attempted murder, and probably the murder of Clarissa.”
Jessica’s hands shook as she covered her mouth. Her eyes were huge and she stared at her mother.
“I don’t believe it,” she said. Linda dropped her head. “You’ve made a mistake. Mom, tell them.” Jessica stepped toward her mother again and I steered her back down the hall.
René must have heard the noise and came out of the lounge. He approached Jessica and turned her toward the reception area.
Linda remained silent, but scrubbed at her eyes as Jessica walked away.
40
Thirty long minutes later, Vi groggily sipped the hot tea with brandy that René had prepared. She made a face and pushed it away.
“What’s in that tea? Is it that healthy green stuff?” she said. “It’s horrible!”