by Lynn Cahoon
“Kids.” She shrugged and sipped her beer.
“That’s one of your writers.” He pointed to the girl. “Don’t know her name, but there’s another one, Nelson something.”
Cat choked on her beer. “What did they do, just ignore the slopes and come right to the bar? That girl is hammered.”
“Furthermore, she’s kissing the wrong guy. Tommy Neil is engaged.” Seth pointed to a third person sitting farther down at the bar watching the scene unfold on the couch. “There’s another one, the poet?”
“Jeffrey Blank,” Cat answered absently. “How do you know the guy kissing Christina is engaged?”
“I’ve met him before. He’s kind of a jerk, but he’s Brittany’s fiancé. You remember Brit, the bartender down at Bernie’s?” He saw the confusion in her eyes as she tried to place the names. “Don’t you read the local papers? I’m pretty sure I’ve brought in the Aspen Hills Post from your doorstep.”
“Shauna reads the local. I’m too busy.” She sipped her beer and glanced at the clock. “So we’re only missing one. Maybe we should start moving everyone to the van. I can call Jennifer and have her meet us there.”
“No need. She’s at the same table with our party girl.” Seth pointed to the last retreat guest sipping a glass of wine. He focused back on Cat and shook his head. “Brit’s not going to like this one bit. And Bernie has connections.”
“That’s just a rumor.” Cat finished her beer and dug in her purse for cash. Seth stilled her hand and took out his wallet, throwing some bills on the bar.
“Not a rumor I would want to test out.” He looked at her. “I don’t think Tommy’s going to like it if his future father-in-law finds out about his extra-curricular activities. The guy might end up skiing down a mountain side with some specialty concrete boots.”
Chapter 2
Luckily, Shauna had made enough of the shepherd’s pie for the entire group, as Cat didn’t trust any of the guests to be able to make it into town for dinner walking on the slick sidewalks. The dining room was filled with an evening buffet of not only the individual pots of the creamy main dish, but breads, a green salad, and a pot of Shauna’s homemade clam chowder on the sideboard.
After the guests were settled, Cat followed Shauna into the kitchen. “Thanks for setting up a dinner for the group. I know you didn’t expect to have to serve tonight.”
“Actually, I did. Nate at the lodge called when the group showed up and started drinking. He wanted to make sure they had a ride off the mountain and a place to stay.” Shauna pointed to the table. “Are you eating in here or with your guests?”
Seth was already halfway through his dinner and looked up as she considered her options. He patted the chair next to him, a lazy grin on his face. “You can sit by me.”
“I’m tempted,” Cat admitted, keeping her eyes on Shauna so she could ignore Seth’s invitation. “I’m not great with drunk people. I can’t believe you bartended for so long. Didn’t you just want to pour them into a cab and get them out of the bar?”
“They were funny. And the trouble makers we got out of the bar quickly.” Shauna shrugged. “I enjoyed seeing them playful.”
“Well, I’ll enjoy seeing them nursing hangovers in the morning. We might have to have a mini-workshop on why not all authors are alcoholics. Maybe I’ll call it ‘Taking Care of Your Body and Mind.’” Cat sighed and opened the door. “I’m the hostess; I’ll go watch the children.”
“Let me know if you need anything.” Shauna filled a bowl with salad and set it on the table next to Seth.
As Cat left the kitchen, she squared her shoulders. The tradeoff for her writing full time and keeping the Victorian house was making the writers’ retreats successful. And the trick for that was to be a gracious hostess. Even when all she wanted to do was have a nice meal with her friends and then go hide in her room with a fire and the book she was currently devouring.
When she opened the dining room door, she was surprised to see several guests had already finished and retired to their rooms. She sat next to Christina Powers, who played with the mashed potatoes on her meal, one hand holding up her head. “Hey, Christina, did you have fun skiing?”
A small smile crossed the girl’s face and Cat remembered thinking how young she’d looked when she’d first arrived. Christina wasn’t over twenty-five. “I loved it. I really enjoyed meeting Tommy. He’s such a dreamboat. I might just have to move here after the week’s over.”
“I’m not sure that would be a great idea.” Cat’s words were out before she could stop them.
Christina narrowed her eyes and looked at Cat for the first time since she’d sat down. “Why, are you after him? He told me that he has girls falling all over him all the time. It’s really hard for him to be true, but he thinks I might be the one to change all that.”
“I’m not interested in Tommy Neil.” Cat shook her head. The guy had gotten into Christina’s head in what, three hours? She would have to watch her closely during the retreat. Of course, it really wasn’t Cat’s place to keep her guests from getting their heart broken. “I hear he’s engaged to a local girl.”
The shock on Christina’s face slowly hardened, and she pushed the food away, getting up on her unsteady feet. “I didn’t think you were one of the mean ones. Tommy told me there were ugly rumors going around town about him, but I thought you were nice.”
She stumbled out of the room as Cat watched. Should she follow her to her room? Before she could move, Jeffrey Blank, the poet, stood, pausing at her chair. “Eat. I’ll make sure she gets to her room.” When Cat hesitated, he held up his hand in a Boy Scout salute. “It will be my good deed for the day.”
Bella Neighbors, the historical author that had stayed behind from the skiing adventure, called after him. “You just make sure you keep your hands in your pockets, mister.”
Cat laughed and Bella smiled at her.
Bella broke off a piece of bread. “Poets, they always see the good in everyone. All the world’s a playground for their words.” She looked around the table. “Looks like I’m the only one who will be in shape to work after dinner. Which means I’ll probably be alone in the living room researching.”
“I’m sorry. I could come join you.” Cat took a bite of the shepherd’s pie and almost groaned. The comfort food filled her mouth and, with the creamy mashed potatoes, warmed her down to her toes. Perfect after-skiing dinner. Shauna was a genius.
“Sorry, you thought I was complaining?” Bella’s face lit up. “I worried that I’d have too many people around all the time to get anything done, but today’s been perfect. This is the best retreat ever.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay.” Cat buttered a roll. “We’ll head over to the library tomorrow after breakfast, and you’ll get your temporary cards for the week. I’m sure you’ll love the collection.”
“I’ve been dying to get into that library for years. This week is going to make my book shine as long as I can find the documents to prove my historical theory. Your town is just full of surprises.” Bella pushed away her plate and stood. “I’m going back to work. I’ll probably be up until after midnight; is it okay for me to stay downstairs?”
“The first floor is totally available 24–7.” Cat thought about Michael’s locked office, and quickly added, “Unless a room is locked. I don’t let people use my late husband’s study. But other than that, you’re free to wander. Shauna will have beverages set up in here along with some treats if you get hungry.”
“Perfect.” Bella paused at the dining room doorway. “This really is the best retreat. I swear I might come back every year.”
By the time Cat was finished eating, she was alone in the room and thinking about her work in progress. Staying on top of a teenage witch who not only had to deal with the testing for her magical lessons, but also navigating the hells of attending high school kept her on her toes. But at least she always enjoyed returning to her fictional world to write.
“Do you kno
w how to clear a room or what?” Shauna started picking up plates and putting them on a large serving tray.
Cat started at the question. “You caught me. Daydreaming and plotting. But I didn’t run everyone out. They just kind of left. At least Bella’s happy with the retreat so far. She says she’s getting a lot of work done.”
“I think the others are happy too. Not everyone takes a vacation just to write.” Shauna pointed to Cat’s plate. “Was it good?”
Cat scrapped the last bit of mashed potatoes out of the bowl with a small piece of bread. She handed the empty dish to her friend. “Not good, great. You are an amazing cook.”
“I’m trying. I’m working on some recipes my mom sent me last week from the family cookbook. Of course, they need a little modernizing, but they’re turning out yummy.” She frowned as Cat stood and started cleaning up the table. “What are you doing?”
Cat froze, an empty glass in her hand. She looked at it, wondering if Shauna had a clearing up system. She cocked her head. “I’m helping?”
“Well, stop it. Most of the time I sit around playing with recipes in the kitchen. One week out of the month, I get to feel useful. So stop doing my job.” Shauna waved her toward the kitchen. “Go and see if that man of yours has left yet. He needs to be reminded to come and clean off the sidewalks first thing in the morning so you can take your tour of the library.”
Cat set the glass down on the tray. “Yes, Mother, I’ll go remind him.”
“No need to be sassy.” Shauna cleared off another part of the table. “Just get out of my way; you’re slowing me down.”
Seth was still in the kitchen, a cup of what smelled like hot cocoa in his hands. He looked up from his phone when she entered. “Hey, beautiful. I didn’t know if I’d see you again tonight.”
Cat went to the stove and poured her own cup of the steaming cocoa before she sat down. “Shauna won’t let me help clean up, so she sent me in here to give you your marching orders.” Cat repeated the instructions Shauna had given.
He held up his phone. “Already set a reminder.” He looked at her. “I’d stay and talk about how fun skiing with you was today, but you look beat. Your eyes look like they’re about to close.”
Cat rolled her shoulders, aware of the tension. “I’ve only been out to the hill three times now. It’s going to take a while to get back up to speed. I’ve missed it though.”
“Me too.” He drained his cup, stood, and kissed her gently on the lips. None of the passion from this morning’s kiss lingered, even though Cat could still taste his desire on her lips. “Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As Cat left the kitchen she heard Bella moving books around in the living room. Shauna had returned to the kitchen and was cleaning up the supper dishes, humming to herself as she worked. Cat looked left, down the darkened hallway that led to the back door and Michael’s office. She hadn’t even been in the room since Uncle Pete had told her that he didn’t believe Michael’s death had been from natural causes. She wouldn’t even think about opening that can of worms during a retreat. Next week. She’d deal with that stuff next week. But once her mind had opened the subject, she wondered if there was a clue in Michael’s work notebooks or the journal she hadn’t had the guts to completely read yet. Okay, maybe she hadn’t had the guts to go back to reading. She rolled her shoulders, willing the confusion to go away. She didn’t need the distraction, not during a retreat.
And with one decision made, she went up the stairs to her bedroom, started the gas fireplace, and curled up with her hand on the memoir she had planned on reading. Instead, she closed her eyes.
*
The next morning, by the time she got the last straggler ready to leave, they had to walk quickly to make their ten o’clock meeting with Miss Applebome, the college librarian. As they made their way down the recently plowed or scraped sidewalks, Cat kept up a monologue about the different houses and their history in the town. She pointed out the routes to Main Street, where they’d find diners, bars, and some small shops. Bella walked next to her and kept asking questions about the town.
“Where is Professors’ Row? I know it’s around here somewhere as your house used to be part of the college’s administration housing, right?” Bella grinned at her. “I found an article about it last night from an archive of the local paper.”
“It’s a couple streets over.” Cat pointed toward the left. “When I started remodeling for the writers’ retreat, a reporter came and did an interview about my turning the house into a literary mecca.” She laughed as they waited for the one streetlight on their route to change from STOP to WALK. Stamping her feet to loosen any ice or snow, she kept her gaze forward, not looking at the woman next to her. “I think they overestimated my contribution to Aspen Hills’ educational history.”
“I don’t. You are letting people enjoy the past as well as putting the house to its best use. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished only in a short time. The retreat is getting great buzz in the writing world.” The light changed and they began to cross the almost empty road.
“I think that’s more morbid curiosity about Tom Cook’s death than the actual retreat process. Although, I hope we take off and the retreat becomes successful.” Cat turned to make sure the rest of the group was still with them as the walk sign was now flashing orange. “Hurry up, guys, we’re missing the light.”
They turned the corner and were on the campus grounds. Bella uttered a cry of what appeared to be joy, and she pulled her cell out, snapping pictures of every building they passed. At least someone was enjoying the trip. The rest of the gang behind Cat seemed to be working on autopilot. Maybe next time she’d schedule the extra ski day at the end of the trip; then all the guests would have to deal with was a travel day home.
Cat made a mental note to mention this to Shauna and have her add it to the Improvement Suggestions file they planned on reviewing at the end of each retreat. The first thing they’d added last time was No Dead Bodies. That should be simple enough to follow. Smiling, she walked into the library and paused. At the glass entrance to the room that held the Hemingway papers, a row of yellow crime tape still blocked all the way to the display. And instead of being at the desk to welcome them, Miss Applebome’s office door was closed. Cat made her way to the desk and rousted a work-study student who seemed to be writing a paper on the library’s computer.
“Hey, we have an appointment with Miss Applebome”—Cat looked at the clock, which showed ten exactly—“now.”
The kid didn’t even look up from his work. “She said she’d meet you in the conference room as soon as the fuzz left.”
“She said ‘the fuzz’?” Cat waited for him to pause and look up at her. “Really?”
He shrugged, obviously embarrassed to be called out. “Okay, maybe she said she was with the police chief. Anyway, you’re supposed to wait in the conference room.”
“Did she leave anything for us?”
The kid looked around and found a large manila envelope. “This. She said to give you this.”
She took the envelope. “Anything else?”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “No. That was all.”
“Thank you, you’ve been so helpful.” She hoped the sarcasm wasn’t lost on the guy who’d called her uncle the fuzz. She might not always agree with his methods, but he worked hard to keep Aspen Hills safe for little twerps like this.
She turned toward the group. “This way.”
As they settled into the conference room, she took an envelope from the backpack she’d been carrying and opened it. She matched a shiny new library card and a dark blue journal with WARM SPRINGS WRITERS’ RETREAT embossed on the front, then handed out the gifts.
“I didn’t know if you’d all have paper, so here you go. A gift to remember us by.” She held up the library card. “This will get you full access to the stacks and to check out books. Don’t worry about returning them; we’ll have a book return box at the house where you c
an drop them off if you’re not coming back to the library.”
“I don’t think you’ll see much of me now that I have this.” Bella held up her card. “I am so looking forward to digging into the stacks.”
“And that’s where I come in.” Miss Applebome breezed to the front of the room. “I’m sure it’s been a few years since you’ve been in a library. Well, except for Miss Simon. Nice to see you again, my dear.”
Jennifer smiled. “I spent all last summer holed up in a graduate student room on the fourth floor. I left the library to eat and sleep, but other than that I lived here.”
“Which is why we always leave one of the retreat spots open for Covington graduate students.” Cat stood behind Jennifer. “She’s your guide if you can’t find me or Miss Applebome.”
Bella turned in her seat and stared at Jennifer so long the girl glanced at Cat, adding a nonverbal what did I do? to the look.
“Anyway, I’m turning you over to Miss Applebome,” said Cat. “If you want an escort back, I’ll be here at three to walk the group back, or there’s a map in your notebook if you feel adventuresome.”
As Cat left the room, she ran into Uncle Pete standing outside the door waiting for her. She gave him a hug, then nodded to the taped-off room. “Still no leads on the missing book?”
“Nothing. We were going over video recording for the last week, but someone turned off the system last Sunday after the library closed. Now I have to go through the rest of the tapes and see if someone was casing the place in the week prior. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would someone steal a book?” He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair.
“How valuable was it?”
Uncle Pete shrugged. “According to Miss Applebome, they had it insured for a couple thousand, but even she couldn’t put a firm value on it. A signed Hemingway is not as common as you might think.”