“Well, sure. Kim and Tara didn’t know each other before this weekend, and I can’t imagine why anyone would want them both dead.”
Not wanting to divulge that I was the likely target, I stayed quiet as Bill poured another glass.
“What are these?” I tapped the large stack of files at his elbow.
“Government red tape. Runs the gamut from our investment offerings to safety on the train. They even spell out how hot the water in the kitchens should be. The regulations are never ending. It’s mind-boggling.” He tipped his head and downed the shot.
“How has business been otherwise?” I asked.
“Oh, great, great.” He brightened somewhat. “Every week we have more guests than the week before, the wineries are happy with the flow of tourists and most of the big expenses are behind us.” He gripped the glass. “At least I’m hoping they are.” He drifted off for a moment then gave himself a shake. “Look, anytime you want to go over the prospectus, let me know. Be happy to discuss your potential commitment.”
“I will. Although, with two murders, I wouldn’t expect much participation from our group.”
“No, I suppose not.” He slowly turned the empty glass on the table. “Murder. Just about the only thing I wasn’t expecting. As if government regulators, investor issues and employee problems weren’t enough.”
Wait a minute. “What employee problems?”
Bill poured another drink. “You know the bartender we use?”
I nodded. “Seth.”
“That’s him. We can’t have people complaining about the behavior of our staff, and I’ve had enough complaints on him to last a lifetime.”
“What complaints?”
“How he treats his wife. He grabbed Barb’s arm yesterday in front of a guest—it was Kim, funny enough. I told him after lunch today we needed to let him go.”
“You fired Seth this afternoon?”
“That’s right. Couple of hours ago. He was steamed, I can tell you that.”
“I’ll bet. Bill, I want you to think about this. Did Seth know it was Kim that complained?”
He paled. “It never occurred to me not to tell him. You don’t think he . . .”
“You bet I do. Look how he treats his wife. If he’s capable of that, he’s capable of taking out his anger on the person who got him fired for it.”
Twenty-three
WHEN I rejoined Connor, I told him about Seth losing his job. He listened in silence until I’d finished.
“So maybe Kim was the intended victim after all.”
I wasn’t convinced, but on the other hand, insisting to Connor I was the target seemed counterproductive to keeping him calm and having him help me solve this.
The patio was crowded with guests enjoying the last of a beautiful November day.
“You don’t need to stick by me like glue, especially with this many people around,” I said.
“I want to. It’s as much for my peace of mind as it is your safety. It makes me feel like I’m doing something to help.”
“I appreciate it and understand how you feel. I keep thinking if I’d gone into the steam room just a few minutes earlier . . .”
“Then it might have been you.”
We grabbed a table next to the pool. A short time later, Antonia wandered out the lobby doors and Connor waved her over. Once she was settled, I repeated my conversation with Bill.
“You need to tell the police,” she said.
I looked around. The police were gone. Yellow police tape stretched across the spa entry. “I’ll call Chief Harding and leave a message. Or better yet, I might walk into town in the morning.”
A laugh from the heated waters caught my attention, but I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Chantal.
“It must really be nice to be her,” I said. “Not a care in the world. I bet she sleeps like a rock.” It sounded peevish even to my ears. “Sorry, it’s just been a rough day.”
“Oh, yeah? You want to talk about rough? I was basically accused of murder because of you.” Vance stood next to the table, hands clenched into fists, one gripping a tennis ball.
Connor started to rise, but I caught his eye and shook my head. With an effort, he lowered himself a fraction, remaining perched on the edge of his chair.
“The police asked me who might have the strength to kill Kim the way she was killed,” I said.
“How was she killed?” he asked.
“You’ll have to ask them if you want to know.”
Vance squeezed the tennis ball, shifting it between both hands.
“I figured that as a tennis player, you were a pretty good bet.”
“Why would I want to kill her? I’ve never met her before.”
There was an easy way to confirm what hand he favored, if I was able to make him mad enough. “Maybe you mistook her for someone else,” I said. “Someone asking a lot of questions about Tara. Maybe you thought she was me.”
He clenched the tennis ball in his fist. “So you think I’m guilty?”
“Maybe I do.”
“I’d have to be stupid.”
“Maybe you are.”
In an instant, Vance shifted and threw the ball into the shrub beside me with such force it stuck there. Connor was next to him so fast, I didn’t even see him move. One second he was in his seat; the next he had Vance by the arm in a fairly tight grip, if the grimace on Vance’s face was anything to go by.
“Leave. Leave now, and leave quietly, while you still can.” Connor spoke just above a whisper, which somehow made it all the more convincing.
Vance nodded his head in agreement. As he walked away, I scooted my chair back and reached for the tennis ball. It was lodged deep in the hedge. He’d thrown it with such force I needed both hands to remove it, and he’d thrown it with his left hand.
* * *
I slept fitfully for the third night in a row. The wind came up sometime after midnight, causing just enough rustling outside to keep me on edge. The temperature also dropped, and in the morning, gray skies heavy with rain greeted me. I slipped into jeans and a thick sweater in shades of purple heather before going downstairs. No one was about, but the lobby had a coffee bar. I sat in a comfy leather chair and drank cup after cup of dark Colombian until I felt somewhat alert.
I turned at the sound of steps hitting the tile floor.
“I’m having breakfast. Care to join me?” Big Dave stood next to me. His eyes were bloodshot, and it looked as if he’d spent the night running his hands through his hair. I think he had on the same clothes.
“You look like you had a rough night,” I said.
“We both do. No offense.”
I raised my coffee in mock salute. “None taken.” I stood. “I can probably be talked into eating something.”
We got a table next to the patio windows. The rain started falling soon after, dancing across the pool’s surface and pelting the petals off the season’s last roses.
When the waitress came, I took a quick glance at the menu, closing it after I spotted the cheese blintzes.
Big Dave slapped the menu shut when he heard my order. “I’ll have the same, along with a Denver omelet and a side of bacon.”
He might be missing Tara, but it wasn’t impacting his appetite. He caught my expression. “Hey, I’m a country boy at heart. We know how to eat.” He smiled at the waitress, but when he turned to me, his look was solemn.
“I need to apologize for Vance’s behavior last night. He didn’t have anything to do with Tara’s or that other poor girl’s murder. You got it wrong there, but his behavior was inexcusable. Throwing that ball the way he did, he’s lucky Connor didn’t break his arm. I’m surprised how much restraint Connor showed, given how he feels about you.”
My face grew hot. “He’s a good friend; that’s undeniable.”
> “Hmm. For a smart lady, you’re missing something pretty obvious.”
That nettled. “If I’m so smart, then why are you certain I’m wrong about Vance? Put aside for a moment that he’s your son. He has the strength and the temper, not to mention what the police are looking for—motive, opportunity and means. He wanted Tara to stop spending your money, his inheritance, and maybe Kim somehow knew something or saw something. Even more likely, he mistook her for me. A simple case of mistaken identity, one that cost Kim her life.”
He shook his head. “I had a long talk with Vance last night. Told him this attitude of his isn’t helping him any and that if he keeps it up, he’s going to end up in a heap of trouble, the kind of trouble I can’t get him out of. He told me he didn’t do it. Looked me in the eyes when he said it, and I believe him.”
The waitress came with our food, and he fell silent. When she’d gone, Big Dave pointed his fork at me. “He’s far from perfect and he’s got issues with his temper to be certain, but he’s no killer.”
I didn’t like him pointing his fork at me that way. “If you know he’s innocent, then why did you agree to keep Vance in line and promise he’d cooperate?”
He jabbed the fork in the air. “Because I was confident it would clear him and, at the same time, help you find the real killer. I never thought he actually had anything to do with any of this.”
I kept my eyes on the fork, and he followed my gaze. Putting the utensil down, he rubbed his temples with his fingertips.
“First my boy throws a tennis ball practically at your head, and now I, well, I show a terrible lack of manners. I’m really sorry about that.”
“I understand.” I didn’t really, but I needed to keep him on my side, if only as a source of information. I eyed the blintzes. They were covered in fresh blueberries. I took a bite. They were good, but the air was tense and I wasn’t going to enjoy them as much as I’d thought.
“Well.” I smiled and dug into my plate with feigned gusto. “I’m sure the police will figure it out soon. I know they’re talking to everyone, asking where everyone was.”
He leaned in a bit. “Is it true you were in the spa and found Kim?”
“That’s right.” I pushed away the image that immediately came to mind. “I’m sure they asked where you were yesterday afternoon.”
“They sure did. I was alone in my room so I didn’t have an alibi, as they say, but I guess they believed me when I told them I was watching a movie.”
“Which one?”
He was startled, then shrugged. “I can’t remember the name offhand. Just one of the old movies they run on the classic channels all day long.”
A nonanswer. Big Dave ate, the fork nearly invisible in his large hand. His right hand. A country boy, now a large man—either of his hands certainly strong enough to make the marks on Kim’s neck. When he spoke about not having a prenup with Tara, he’d been so believable, but would he really be happy to give away half his fortune?
After we’d finished I excused myself and wandered into the library, closing the door behind me. A large leather wingback chair draped with a throw faced the fire, where a merry blaze crackled and warmed the air. On both sides of the fire, large patio doors confirmed that rain continued to beat down. Occasionally the doors rattled from a gust, but inside it was comfy and warm.
I curled my legs under me and pulled the throw up around my neck. Resting my head on the back of the chair, I watched the flames. Lack of sleep and the shock of finding Kim caught up with me, and some time later I sat up with a start. It took me a moment to remember where I was. The fire had died down, but the room was oppressively warm. My hair felt heavy and damp against my neck, and I pushed the throw off. Rain fell lightly now, and gusts of wind no longer tugged at the heavy doors. The room was still, yet something was different. Voices carried from the reception area, and I turned to the library door. I’d closed it earlier, but now it was open by several inches. Cold trickled down my spine, and I shivered in spite of the warmth. I felt exposed, as though someone had been watching me sleep. I stood and tried to shake the feeling off. Perhaps someone had grabbed a book, something to read on this cold and windy day. Perhaps the chill I now felt in the air had nothing to do with me. Perhaps.
Twenty-four
I FOUND an Agatha Christie novel on the shelves and stayed in the library until early afternoon, when the sun broke through the clouds. Outside the hotel, groundskeepers worked their magic, and piles of soggy leaves and broken branches disappeared.
“Do you want to get out of the hotel for a while?” Antonia stood in the library doorway. “I thought I’d have the hotel car service drop me in town for a little snack and some shopping. Possibly an early dinner.”
“That sounds great, but where’s Chantal?”
“Off somewhere. She mentioned going into town earlier, but I haven’t seen her since.”
“Let’s go,” I said.
She eyed me. “You might want to freshen up first. You look like you just woke up. You’ve got creases in your cheek and your hair is tilting to one side.”
“Right. Lobby in five minutes.”
* * *
“WELL, I can’t say this did anything to improve your spirits,” Antonia said sometime later. We’d hit most of the downtown specialty stores and, while Antonia carried several bags, I was empty-handed. “Not that I blame you, after what you’ve been through. Surely there’s something that will help.”
I considered. “Chocolate. Actually, I need to see Chief Harding. Then chocolate.”
We rounded the corner and arrived at the police station just as Harding stepped outside. I could tell he was thrilled to see me by the way his eyes glazed over. Antonia curled her lip and was about to say something, but I gave her a subtle elbow. Like it or not, we needed to work with this guy.
“Hello there, Chief!” My smile was so big my cheeks hurt. “I know you’re busy, but I have something you might find interesting.”
That caught his attention. Placing one hand on his hip he leaned back against the door frame. “Well?”
“Right here?” I looked around. “Don’t you want to go into your office, at least get something to take notes with?”
He rolled his lips around as though looking for a toothpick. “If you tell me anything of interest, Ms. Penelope Lane Lively, I’ll let you know. At that point I’ll be sure to make a note of it.”
“Your middle name is Lane?” Antonia said. “I never knew that. How could I not know that? I’ve known you your whole life. I was at your baptism.”
“Well, I guess it never came up. Can we talk about it later?”
“Wait a minute. Your name is Penelope Lane. Your parents named you Penny Lane? After the Beatles song?”
“They were big fans, okay? Later!”
Harding crossed his arms and watched the exchange. What threw me was that he’d made the effort to learn my middle name, yet I couldn’t get him to pay attention to any suspects other than Chantal.
He took my look of astonishment as a sign I’d been impressed. “I guess I know a little more than you thought, wouldn’t you say, Ms. Lively?”
Irritating oaf. “It really all depends on if the knowledge is relevant. For instance, I wonder if you knew that Bill had to fire his bartender yesterday, right before Kim was killed.”
Chief Harding stopped searching for the imaginary toothpick as he scrutinized my face. “Well, I’m not real sure what one thing has to do with the other. Seth’s a surly no-good. Always has been. Not the kind of person most people want to encounter when they’re out having a nice evening.”
“Yes, yes, we all know Seth is obnoxious,” I snapped. “So you might well ask why it happened now. What finally made Bill fire him?”
He’d raised his brow at my tone, but curiosity got the best of him. “Okay, go ahead and tell me. What happened?”
“Seth was being rough with his wife.”
Harding raised his hands. “I’ve heard the rumors and I wouldn’t put it past him, but until she makes a complaint and sticks with it, there isn’t much I can do.”
“Well, he did it in front of a guest, and that guest complained to Bill. He fired Seth on the spot.”
He shrugged. “Surprised it hasn’t happened before this.”
What was wrong with this guy? “Aren’t you a little curious who the guest was? The guest that cost Seth his job?” I could hear my voice getting louder, but fatigue and shock took over. “Come on, think! Take a wild guess!”
He grasped the significance at a glacial pace. “So, you’re telling me it was Kim that complained.”
I waited until I was certain I could control my voice. “Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. She’s the one that complained. An hour later, she’s dead.”
* * *
“CHOCOLATE!” We hit the nearest specialty shop we could find after leaving the police station. “I really need this.” I eyed the upscale truffled delights lined up inside the glass case. “He didn’t seem all that concerned about verifying Seth’s whereabouts.” I paced back and forth in front of the counter. “What was I expecting? That he might actually do his job?”
“Pick out whatever you need, on me.” Antonia patted my hand. “Can’t let that blood sugar get too low, now can we?”
“Don’t placate me, Antonia.”
“You’re scaring people.” Antonia thrust her chin toward a young girl backing toward the front door.
“Fine. I’m going to sit over there.” I made a sweeping gesture toward the counter. “I will take one. One of everything in the top row.”
Half a dozen truffles later I felt ready to discuss the subject calmly. It didn’t hurt that the truffles were chock-full of liquor.
“What I think we should do is try and find out if Seth really was with a female guest like his wife suspected,” Antonia said.
“Barb seemed pretty sure. She also said her husband had no reason to kill Kim. ’Course at the time, she didn’t know about Kim getting Seth fired.” I bit into chocolate heaven. “Yum. Brandy.”
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