Fatality by Firelight

by Lynn Cahoon

  “You’re shaking. Come let me buy you something to warm you and calm those nerves.” He put his arm around her waist and helped her inside the coffee shop. Sitting her in a booth, he pulled out his wallet. “How do you want your coffee?”

  “I don’t. I mean, you don’t have to buy me coffee. You just saved me from a nasty spill out there.” She blew out a shaky breath. “I should be thanking you.”

  “It’s in my contract as a Prince Charming. I’m bound to save beautiful women in distress whenever possible.” The man studied the coffee board menu. “I’m guessing you’re a large mocha with whipped cream kind of woman. Am I right?”

  Cat ran her hands over her face. “I don’t know …”

  “Please, let me buy you a hot drink. I don’t feel comfortable letting you back on those icy sidewalks until you stop shaking.” He laughed and the crinkles around his eyes deepened. The man was crazy handsome. “Caffeine may not be the best thing for you, but I don’t see you as a green-tea type.”

  “A mocha will be fine.” She paused, looking around at the empty shop. “Thank you.” She watched as he walked up to the barista who had seen their interaction. When he came back, he set a large cup in front of her and sat across from her, a smaller version in his hands.

  She took a long sip from the drink, letting the heat and sugar calm her nerves. She sat the cup down and held out her hand. “I’m Cat Latimer. Thank you for saving me from a nasty spill.”

  “And thank you for not making me turn in my man card. Dante Cornelio, at your service.” He took a sip of his coffee. “This is good. Sometimes these places forget that a majority of people just like good, fresh, strong coffee.”

  She looked him over as she took another sip. The wool coat he wore looked expensive, as did the casually tied tartan scarf around his neck. He wore his blond hair cut short, his sea-green eyes sparkled, and if Cat had to guess, she would have labeled him either an attorney or a doctor. His hands looked soft and his fingernails short and clean. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Are you with the college?”

  Taking a long drink before he answered, he finally set the cup down. “No, I’m just checking in on some business investments I have in the area.”

  “Dante. That’s an interesting name.” She tilted her head. “Not a local then.”

  “Not like you, Catherine.” He nodded. “Yes, I know about your wonderful little writers’ retreat. That house of yours is a local treasure.”

  “You’ve seen my house?” Now alarm bells were ringing in Cat’s head. She guessed the move from Cat to Catherine hadn’t been a huge leap.

  “I keep an eye on all the new businesses in town. A rising tide lifts all boats.” A buzzing sound came from his pocket, and he pulled out his phone. Looking at the display he took a final sip of his coffee and stood. “I’m afraid our time is over. It was so very nice to finally meet you, Catherine. My driver is here. Can I give you a lift somewhere?”

  Serial-killer movie scenes filled her mind. “No, thank you. I have a couple of errands to do before I return home.” She held up her cup. “Thank you again for the coffee.”

  “You are most welcome. We will continue this conversation soon.” He strode out the door slipping his leather gloves on as he left.

  The barista came to her booth and picked up the empty coffee cup. “That guy reminds me of the heroes in those books. I have a bit of a romance novel habit, but I never thought I’d see a billionaire type in this place.” She glanced out the window. “He even got picked up in a limo. You two aren’t dating, are you?”

  Cat finished off her mocha and stood. “Nope. This is the first time we’ve ever met.”

  “Then I have hope.” The barista smiled and took the empty cups back to the counter.

  As Cat left the coffee shop, she shook off the feeling that the chance encounter was more than chance. Dante Cornelio was a mystery, that was for certain.

  *

  Seth’s truck sat in the driveway when she got back to the house. Finding him and Shauna in the kitchen at the table, Cat put the kettle on for a cup of tea, then sat to wait. “What are you two up to?”

  Shauna and Seth exchanged a look, then Shauna spoke. “You look like crap. What happened? I was about to send Seth over to get you out of the house.”

  “The house?” Cat grabbed a cookie from the plate in the middle of the table before she realized Shauna thought she’d been with Mrs. Colfax all this time. “Oh, the Colfax place. Well, Tommy’s mother is freaking crazy. I don’t think it’s just the grief, though. I got the impression she’s been like this a while. His stepfather thinks, or thought, Tommy was a loser.”

  “You should have just left after you dropped off the muffins. I don’t know what you were thinking, anyway. Your uncle is the investigator, not you.” Seth stood when the kettle started screaming. “Regular tea or that herbal stuff.”

  “Regular.” Cat leaned back in her chair. “I wasn’t at the house all this time. I walked through town to think and some jerk almost knocked me down on the sidewalk.”

  “Oh, no.” Shauna leaned closer. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

  “I didn’t hit anything. Another man caught me on the way down.”

  Seth set the tea in front of her. “You were pushed by one guy and another one caught you? Who are these jokers?”

  “I have no clue on the first guy. He didn’t stick around to introduce himself. The other’s not a local.” Was that jealousy she heard in Seth’s voice or just concern? “Dante Cornelio. He said he has business interests in Aspen Hills? Have you ever heard of him?”

  “The Cornelio family is big in the New York Mafia.”

  They all turned their heads to the kitchen door where Bella Neighbors stood. She rushed to the table.

  “Seriously? You met Dante? He’s here, in town? He’s like the heir apparent for the family.” Bella pointed to Cat’s tea. “Can I have some of that? I’m about coffee’d out and the hot-water carafe out in the dining room is empty.”

  “Sure.” Shauna stood and went to the stove. She poured a large cup of water and added two tea bags.

  “So, why would a Mafia family member be here in Aspen Hills?” Seth studied Bella as the older woman wrapped five cookies in a napkin and put them in her jacket pocket.

  Finished stashing her treats, Bella frowned at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about the connection between Covington College and the mob families? This is where they send all their kids for the undergraduate degree. It’s considered a safe zone, and they all signed an agreement decades ago to honor the contract.”

  Cat spit out the sip of tea she’d just taken. Grabbing a napkin, she wiped up the table in front of her as she asked, “Mob kids attend Covington?”

  Bella looked around the table at the three other people. “You all had to know this, right? Didn’t you grow up here?”

  *

  “I’m glad we decided to move up date night this week.” Seth rubbed the top of her hand as they sipped wine at the small bistro she hadn’t even known existed just a few miles out of town.

  “It’s a nice place.” Cat looked around the Aspen-chic room. Wood paneling covered the top of the walls with exposed rock foundation running the bottom. A fire burned in the river-stone fireplace in the middle of the room, and their table was set so close, her toes felt warm and toasty under the table. “And I’m glad you didn’t let me get away with an ‘I’m too busy’ excuse. The way this retreat is going, I may need a few more impromptu outings just to stay sane.”

  The waitress put a platter of chicken and avocado nachos between them, setting small plates on the side. When she left, Seth leaned closer. “So what about Bella’s pronouncement? I take it you didn’t know about Covington’s history?”

  After meeting Dante that morning, Cat wasn’t sure Bella’s theory wasn’t spot on. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard anything about the college harboring mob kids. It’s exclusive, sure, but the way Bella talked about it, the entire administration would
have to be part of the cover up.”

  “I never understood where the college got the money to buy the Hemingway papers. You know the family wanted them to go to Boise State, but Covington came out on top in that discussion.” Seth took a loaded chip off the platter. Cat paused as she moved to set one of the little plates in front of him. He grinned at the shocked look on her face. “What? You think I don’t watch the news? The acquisition had been a really big deal here in town.”

  “Having the papers allowed the college to fund another English professor just to curate the collection as well as increased fund raising from local literary buffs.” Cat swirled a chip in the guacamole, watching it cut through and divide the small pile on her plate. “Uncle Pete must have heard the rumors. If the mob was here visiting kids on Meet the Parents Day, you’d think he’d be aware of their presence.”

  “That’s a good point.” He rubbed a spot off her cheek. “So how are you doing? Do I have to worry about you and the rich guy running off to Jamaica?”

  “An island vacation would be nice, but all he offered me was a coffee and a ride home.” She leaned back in her chair and ran both hands through her hair. “What is going on with my writing retreats that we can’t get through a week without someone dying or a guest being detained for questioning? Christina’s too sweet to do anything like that to anyone.”

  “Rumor around town is that Tommy was found in the hot tub with his wrists cut.” Seth kept eating.

  “We both know that’s not true. Uncle Pete said he was stabbed. Besides, that sounds more like suicide than murder. I wonder if Uncle Pete looked at the possibility that Tommy did himself in for cause of death?” She played with her fork, spinning it on the table.

  “The coroner actually determines cause of death, not your uncle.” He waited for the waitress to deliver their entrées before answering her. “What? I watch cop shows. Besides, it’s kind of hard to slash your wrists, then stab yourself in the gut, and then get back into the hot tub before passing out.”

  “The whole thing does seem like a bit of overkill. The killer must have been seriously ticked off at the guy.” She stared at her plate, wanting to be hungry, but feeling sick to her stomach. No one should have to die like that. And Christina didn’t have it in her to slit someone’s wrists, at least not from what Cat knew of the girl. “Of course, being angry doesn’t eliminate our Christina from the suspect pool. That’s not good at all.”

  He put his hand on hers. “Look, forget I even brought the subject of Tommy’s death up. Tonight’s supposed to relax you, not send you screaming into the night and not trusting anyone.”

  “I trust a few people.” She gazed into his eyes and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

  He tipped his wine glass to her. “A toast—to trust and a time for us.”

  As she clinked her glass to his, Cat just hoped Seth and she were actually going to have a time. She’d always laughed about the star-crossed love she’d had with her high school sweetheart, but now, being back, she seemed to have too much on her plate to totally surrender to this reenergized love. Besides, she still had questions about Michael’s death and, now, about the handsome man in town who knew way too much about her and her business.

  She pushed her doubts away and smiled at Seth. “To us.”

  Seth dropped her off, leaving her with a way-too-sexy kiss on the doorstep before climbing back into his truck. Cat wandered into Michael’s study as soon as she heard the truck leave. Her hands shook as she picked up his journal. Why was she doing this to herself? Michael hadn’t even been her husband at the time of his death. Just an ex. But she knew, even as mad as she was at him because of what he’d done, Michael would never just be the ex. He’d been the first man who’d listened to her as she talked about her dreams of someday being an author. He’d supported those dreams and bought her books for her library. He’d believed in her. He just hadn’t believed in the marriage. Or so it had seemed when he threw it all away.

  Chapter 6

  Cat wandered into the kitchen. Sleep had come in bits and pieces last night, so when she’d woken the last time, she’d given up and kicked the covers off her legs. Four a.m., but at least she’d get some writing done today before she had to play retreat hostess. Now, showered and dressed, she needed coffee and something sweet before she locked herself into her office.

  “I wondered if you’d stayed over at Seth’s last night. I didn’t hear you come in.” Shauna held out a steaming cup of coffee. “Take this. I heard you in the hallway before you even opened the door. One good skill I learned as a bartender, always listen for trouble.”

  “No trouble, we’re just still taking it slow.” Of course, Seth’s kiss last night was anything but safe. A smile creeped onto her lips, and Shauna held up her hands.

  “No worries, I was just wondering if you were going to be honest with me today. I see you’re back to covering up what you don’t want me to see.” She returned to the stove. “I’m making banana bread today, and we’ll do banana bread waffles with Bananas Foster syrup for breakfast tomorrow. I found the recipe online, and it’s been killing me not to try it out.”

  “I’m not covering up anything …”

  The door to the kitchen swung open and Jeffrey Blank walked in. He looked like he had slept in yesterday’s clothes, his blond hair sticking up at odd angles. He took in the scene in the kitchen and then asked, “Where’s Christina? She isn’t at the police station still, is she?”

  Shauna poured him a cup of coffee and walked it to where he stood at the kitchen’s edge. “Heavens, no. Here, take this. I haven’t set up the dining room for early birds yet. Can I get you a snack to tide you over until breakfast?”

  He took the cup, but held it in his hands, not drinking. “Thank you. So where is she?”

  “Christina? I guess in her room.” Shauna turned toward Cat and raised her eyebrows in a can-you-believe-this-guy motion. “She came in last night when I was closing down the kitchen, and I made her some soup since she didn’t want to go into town for dinner.”

  Cat watched Jeffrey’s shoulders drop as he took in Shauna’s words. He sipped his coffee, and she thought she could see the wheels turning in his head as he formulated the next question. Ten to one he was going to ask if Christina had been charged with the murder. He seemed excessively interested in someone he’d just met.

  Instead, Jeffrey held up the cup and smiled. “Thanks for this. I’ve been working on a stanza all night, and it’s just not working.” He turned around and disappeared back out of the kitchen.

  Shauna waited a long minute, then peeked out the kitchen door. She breathed out a sigh as she came over to the table and sat next to Cat. “He’s intense.”

  “Weirdly so, don’t you think?” Cat sipped her coffee, thinking about the times she’d spoken with Jeffrey. Most of the conversations had been about Christina. Not his work, not why he was at the retreat, but about a girl he’d just met. “I think the poet has a crush on Christina.”

  Shauna shook her head. “I don’t know. It feels more serious than just a crush. He’s always watching her, but he never goes up and talks to her. I thought I was imagining the intensity, but after that scene? I think we should watch our resident poet very carefully this week.”

  “Why do the crazies always arrive on my doorstep?” Cat stood and refilled her coffee cup. “So tell me about Christina. Did Uncle Pete come in with her?”

  “No. He had a deputy drop her off here. According to her, she’s just a person of interest. They think she might have seen something and not realized it.” Shauna paused, waiting for Cat to sit. “There is scuttlebutt around town about a mystery man who just appeared a few days ago. My source at the grocery store says the guy has to be a contract killer. He only bought cigarettes and a bottle of Jack this morning when he went through her line.”

  “That’s very noir of him. He sounds like someone out of a movie script,” Cat said.

  “So do you think that’s the business your white knight ha
d in town? Could he be the same person?”

  Cat thought about Dante’s polished nails and high-end clothes. He’d appeared more like an executive than a stone-cold killer. Maybe the other guy was his driver? She shook her head. Dante’s driver would have to be ready at his boss’s whim, 24-7. A drinker couldn’t fulfill that job responsibility. “I don’t think so. Did your source give you a description?”

  “All she said was the man had mean eyes.” Shauna shook her head. “I know exactly what she means. Mean drunks is what we called them when I was bartending. Even if they were sweet as pie when they first walked in, you could tell that they were going to be a problem later.”

  “You should have been a counselor, not a bartender. You’re good at reading people.”

  “So are you. I know you want Christina to get out from under this cloud of suspicion. She’s a nice kid.” Shauna held up the newspaper. “Of course, that doesn’t stop the local reporters from waxing poetic about the love triangle.”

  Cat took the paper. “Poor Brit. She doesn’t deserve this kind of crap. What did she ever see in the loser to begin with?”

  “I hear he could be quite the charmer.” Shauna went back to mixing in eggs into the bowl on the counter. “Christina told me all about how they met. Of course, he never mentioned the upcoming nuptials. For a girl who writes happy-ever-after endings, her week has turned into a horror novel.”

  “I’ll check in with her a little later and see how she’s doing. Since we already did my ‘How to be an author’ talk yesterday when she was absent, I can use that to get some alone time with her.” Cat took a travel mug out of the cupboard and filled it. “And I want to talk to Uncle Pete. He needs to know about our overly attentive poet.”

  “Are we going to talk about your date last night with Seth?” Shauna didn’t look at her as she poured the banana-bread batter into loaf pans. “Or the coffee date with your mystery man?”