Fatality by Firelight

by Lynn Cahoon

  Michael hadn’t lived long enough to become an economics superstar or even get close to retirement. But if she could find the notebook where he’d worked out what was bothering him, maybe he’d left her more clues than she thought as to what really happened. As she thumbed through the stack of books waiting to be sorted, she realized one thing: Michael had been studying the history of organized crime in America. She’d found the link between Michael and Dante. But what, if anything, did it mean? She needed to find that notebook.

  She heard a crash in the lobby and without thinking ran to the front. She flipped on the overhead light. Jeffrey lay on the floor, his legs twisted around the coatrack. He blinked into the bright light.

  “What are you doing here?” He peered up at her.

  Cat came over and took the rack off him, setting it back on the edge of the wall where it belonged. “I live here, remember?” She grabbed a coat and hung it back on the rack, noticing it smelled of cigarettes. She looked at the grandfather clock that showed it was already two. “What are you doing up?”

  “I was just checking to see if the doors were locked tight. Christina’s had a very bad day, and I wanted to make sure she was safe.” Jeffrey pulled himself up to a standing position. He peered out the front window. “Is that a police cruiser out there? Why is he here?”

  “He’s been there all evening.” Seriously, had the guy even listened when she’d mentioned Paul’s presence at dinner? “Christina’s fine. She’s in her room sleeping.” Cat didn’t say the rest of the words—right where you should be.

  “Fine, I get it.” He spun on his heel and sprinted up the stairs. Then she went to the front door to check the locks. The police cruiser still sat in front of the house, just as Jeffrey had said, but for some reason that didn’t make her feel any safer.

  She went back into Michael’s study and turned off the lights. She’d finish the project next week. Now that she thought she knew what she was looking for, she could relax. And besides, she realized the only stack of notebooks she had of Michael’s had been boxed up a few weeks ago and put in the basement. That’s where the answers lay.

  Now all she had to do was ask the right question.

  Chapter 12

  “You look like hell.” Shauna set a cup of coffee in front of Cat. “Okay, what’s got you not sleeping now? Seth or Michael? Or is it all this Tommy Neil stuff?”

  Cat sipped the warm liquid, letting it seep into her bones before she answered. “How about all three? You won’t believe what I found last night in Michael’s study. History books.”

  Shauna blinked her eyes, then looked at the counter. “I’m sure I have sugar somewhere. Maybe you’ll feel better once you eat.”

  “Did you hear what I said? Michael had a ton of American history books. And do you know what subject they were focused on?” Cat rubbed her eyes. She felt sluggish. Maybe sugar wouldn’t be a bad thing. “You don’t have any of those chocolate chip muffins left, do you?”

  Shauna put two muffins on a plate and, after warming them in the microwave, brought them and a butter dish over to the table. She broke open one of the muffins and loaded it down with the creamy butter. She paused before taking a bite. “I don’t know, maybe Colorado history? He did own a pretty nice piece of Aspen Hills history right here in the house.”

  “Exactly. But not only did the books cover Colorado history, he had a ton that dealt with the history of organized crime in the United States.” Cat buttered her own muffin. “He was researching this whole mob connection to the college.”

  “Ooh, I’d love to look over what you found.” Bella Neighbors stood in the doorway, her Warm Springs Writers’ Retreat travel cup in one hand and a carafe in another. “Sorry for interrupting, but I must have drained the last of the hot water for my tea. Can I get this refilled?”

  Shauna popped up and took the carafe and the coffee cup from Bella. “Of course. Go have a seat while I heat up the kettle.”

  Bella sat next to Cat. “So where did you find these books? Can I look them over before the retreat ends? My plane leaves early on Sunday, and I’d really like to see if there is something I could use for my story.”

  Cat hesitated. Was there a connection between Dante and Bella? She shook off the idea. Now she really was seeing ghosts. But she really had wanted to look at the books first, to make sure there wasn’t any hidden messages from Michael stuffed in between the pages. Cat couldn’t think of a way to put Bella off without revealing things better kept hidden. “I found them in my ex-husband’s study. If you promise to keep all papers that you might find in the books right where you found them, I’ll let you work in the study as long as you need to review what’s there. Please don’t invite any of your retreat friends to join you. I’m trying to sort through his belongings and would rather keep it closed until I’m done with the sorting.”

  Bella took the cup Shauna offered her. “No worries. I’ll be extra careful. I’m just so glad to hear there’s a local who was researching Aspen Hills’ unique history before me. From all the interviews I’ve done, most of the people here just accepted the college enrollment as a given.”

  “So no conflict or strife to write about?” Cat sipped her coffee. This was why she liked writing in an imaginary world. You didn’t have to worry about the facts from real life. Except maybe the strife most teenagers felt while in high school.

  “Exactly. Your neighbor, Mrs. Rice, can tell me who slept with who for the last century, but she has no clue about what the families of these mob kids even did. She just said the kids were special.” Bella dunked her tea bag a few times in the steaming liquid. “And that local kids were warned to stay away.”

  “That much is true.” Cat finished off her muffin, wondering again if she should call her mother for the rest of the story. “I kind of had blinders on when I was growing up.”

  “You mean you were, and are, naïve,” Shauna translated as she brought the now full carafe to the table. “Can I get you a muffin or something?”

  Bella stood and took the carafe. “I’m good. But can you show me where the study is? I’d like to get started.”

  Shauna looked at Cat who nodded her assent. “Sure, follow me.” Shauna grabbed the key to the room from the key board and they left the room.

  Cat filled her coffee cup and threw away her muffin wrapper before heading upstairs to her own office. She might not get many words down before she had to stop, but she’d at least try. The magic of being a writer was less in the talent and the muse’s guidance, and more in the consistency of sitting down to write.

  By the time she stumbled downstairs for something to drink besides coffee, she’d completed a chapter. Cat hoped she could grab a soda and head back to her office without anyone noticing her. After she checked in with Bella, that was.

  Shauna was in the kitchen with boxes in various stages of filled all around her. Cat weaved her way to the fridge and after opening a Coke and taking a drink, looked at her friend. “Are we moving? Did I miss a memo?”

  “I’m packing up the old stuff that Michael left in the kitchen. I want you to look at it before I have Seth take everything down to the secondhand shop to donate. There are some good things in here.” Shauna pulled out a knife block from the box and set it on the table. “I’d keep this, but the chef knife is missing.”

  “One of the economics professors gave that to us for our wedding present.” Cat grinned and pulled out one of the steak knives. “The card read For use when you get tired of each other. I guess he thought he knew how the marriage would turn out.”

  “And that’s why I want you to go through this stuff before I donate it. We could just box it up and put it in the cellar.” Shauna moved a box to the side of the room. “I don’t want you to regret giving this stuff up in a year or so.”

  “I’ll go through it, but I’m pretty sure there’s not anything I want that I didn’t take when I left originally. I’d collected some nice crockware at different yard sales, and that all went with me to California.
I think it’s in one of the basement boxes now.”

  “Wait. I think I saw a mini pickling crock a few minutes ago. Let me find it.”

  Shauna and Cat started going through the boxes, and Cat did find a few things that were either her mother’s or she’d acquired during the marriage. She hadn’t realized how much she’d left behind when she’d moved out. She set the things she wanted to keep on the table next to the knife block.

  “Looks like a garage sale in here.” Uncle Pete’s voice boomed through the doorway. “Am I too late for breakfast?”

  “Never.” Cat grinned and waved him in. “Shauna’s uncluttering. Take a look around and see if there’s anything you need for your place before we donate the batch.”

  Uncle Pete made his way to the table and looked at the knife block. He took his handkerchief out and pulled out one of the steak knives.

  “I’m keeping what’s on the table.” Cat shrugged. “Well, except for that. Do you need a set of good knives? Too bad the one’s gone, but I’m sure you can replace it with something that at least kind of matches.”

  He sank into one of the chairs. “So you have had this since you moved in here?”

  “It was stuck in the back of one of the cabinets, but yeah.” Shauna stacked several boxes near the wall that Cat had already gone through. “I have my own knives and, with what they cost, I don’t use anything but them.”

  “When did you notice the missing knife?”

  Something in Uncle Pete’s tone made Cat stop considering the china in front of her. It too had been a wedding gift, but Cat couldn’t remember if it came from her side of the family or was from one of Michael’s friends. She set the plate down and looked at him. “Why are you asking?”

  He met her gaze. “Because if I’m not mistaken, the missing chef knife is sitting in my evidence locker. It’s the weapon that was used to kill Tommy Neil.”

  Shauna and Cat both stared at the unassuming kitchen display. Simple utensils that Cat had used to chop vegetables or slice meat during her short marriage had been taken and used to perform a violent act. Cat rubbed her arms, trying to ease off the chill that had just settled in the room. “Are you sure? I bet there are tons of those sets in different houses here in town.”

  “With a missing chef knife?” Uncle Pete shook his head. “Sorry, Cat, I don’t believe your theory. I’ll have the knife tested to see if it could be part of the set. I guess we couldn’t tell exactly, but it’s coincidental at least.”

  After her uncle had bagged the knife set to take back to the station, Christina wandered in the kitchen. “Whoa, looks like you guys are busy. I was just wondering if you had some of those peanut butter cookies. I’m starving, but I want to finish this chapter before I go into town for lunch.”

  “Miss Powers, do you have a second?” Uncle Pete motioned to the table. “I need to clarify a few things from your original statement.”

  “Seriously? I don’t know what else I can tell you.” Christina plopped into one of the kitchen chairs, her arms crossed.

  “This won’t take long. Tell me about leaving Tommy’s room on Monday. You said the two of you fought?”

  “Not really fought. I told him I was saving having relations until I was married.” Christina’s face burned at the memory. “And he started laughing. He told me to get out and not come back until I was an actual grown-up.”

  “So you were angry?” Uncle Pete kept his gaze on his notebook.

  The woman sighed and leaned back into her chair looking defeated. “Not angry, embarrassed. I know my values are old-fashioned, but it’s what I believe. And if Tommy had truly loved me, like he’d said, he would have understood. That’s the hardest part of this; I feel like a fool even hanging out with him in the first place. I guess I was wrong about the man’s character.”

  “So you left the room.” Uncle Pete turned the conversation back to Monday night. “Did anyone see you or talk to you?”

  Christina thought for a minute. “Actually, yes, Martin was in the hallway.”

  “Martin the bartender?” The question flew out of Cat’s mouth before she could stop herself. The look on her uncle’s face told her she’d made a mistake. This wasn’t her investigation; it was his. She looked down at the table trying to be quiet before he kicked her out of her own kitchen.

  “Yeah. He was so nice to me. He took me back to the bar area, bought me a cup of coffee, and then introduced me to the guys who drove me home. I was a complete wreck.” She looked at Uncle Pete. “What? You can ask him if you want.”

  “Actually, I did a couple days ago. He never said anything about running into you in the hallway. And in your original statement, you failed to mention even seeing Martin.” Cat knew Uncle Pete was looking for a reaction to his statement. How many times had he told her it wasn’t what the people said during the interview, it was what they left out? “So who’s lying, him or you?”

  “Martin is. Or maybe he just forgot. Talk to him again. He’ll tell you.” Christina took the cup of hot cocoa Shauna had given her and wrapped her hands around the outside like she was trying to warm her fingers. “I guess I didn’t think it was important before. And you asked how I got home, so I told you.”

  “Well, that’s the problem. Martin hasn’t been to work for the last few days. Or school.” Uncle Pete went to close his notebook, but then paused. “One more question: Tell me how you got Tommy Neil’s blood on your clothes again?”

  Christina went through the whole story about Tommy opening the champagne bottle. “He thought it was romantic. I should have known then he was reckless. You’re not taking me in to be questioned again, are you?”

  Reckless wasn’t the only word that described Tommy. Cocky, arrogant, self-serving—those all described the man Cat had begun to get a picture of the last few days.

  “I’m not going to take you to the station. When do you leave for Seattle?” As Christina recited her flight time and number from her boarding pass, Uncle Pete wrote it down in his notebook.

  Christina stood, taking the plate of cookies Shauna had given her. “If that’s all, I want to get some words in before we leave for the library party. Six, right?”

  “We’ll drive over to the campus since Miss Applebome said it was cocktail attire. We’ll meet in the lobby about 5:45.” Cat wondered how festive the group would be once Uncle Pete determined the knife had come from her kitchen.

  “Fine.” Christina disappeared out the door.

  “I’ve got to be going.” Uncle Pete put on his coat. “I’ll see you all at the library thing.”

  Cat followed him to the door. “Do you want me to make up a list of everyone who’s been in the house for the last week? I mean, if the murder weapon is the missing knife, you will need to clear all of us too, right?”

  “Probably. I’m hoping I’m wrong about the knife.” He put the bagged block under his arm. “Make up the list. Better to be prepared than scrambling later. Bring it with you tonight.”

  Shauna and Cat stayed seated at the table as he left, neither one saying anything. Finally, Shauna stood to refill their coffee cups. “So do you still have time to help me with Project Donate? Or are you locking yourself upstairs to work?”

  “I’m not sure I could even form a complete sentence. Let’s finish the kitchen clear-out so at least I feel somewhat useful.” Cat took the coffee and pulled a box over toward her. “There’s one thing you need to put on Seth’s to-do list, though.”

  “What’s that?” Shauna opened a cabinet and started stacking everything on the counter top.

  “We need to lock up the kitchen knives when a retreat is in session. Next time, I don’t want the murder weapon to come from this house.” Cat took an old cookie cookbook from the box. “This is mine. Seth’s sister gave it to me as a gag gift one Christmas.” She ran her hand over the cover, remembering the laughter that had circled the Christmas tree that year.

  “See, memories. I knew you needed to go through the boxes.” Shauna held up a plate. “We’ve
been using this Fiesta ware dish set for the retreats. I guess I should have asked earlier if this was sentimental. I just focused on the set that had the most settings.”

  “I collected that during our marriage. It’s not sentimental or valuable. I just loved the colors and the weight of the pieces.” She paused and looked at Shauna. “If you hadn’t started this project today, Uncle Pete wouldn’t have the knife block.”

  “If it is where the murder weapon came from, it’s a miracle he even saw the knife block. I had considered just stuffing all the boxes downstairs until this summer and having a yard sale. But I heard a call out for donations from the thrift store, so I changed my mind.”

  As they continued to sort through the kitchen stuff, Cat kept thinking about the missing kitchen knife.

  “Are sandwiches okay for lunch?” Shauna looked at Cat. “Maybe I should cook something more substantial. Who knows what they’ll serve tonight or how late we’ll be there.”

  “Sandwiches are fine.” Cat paused at the kitchen door. “I’m checking on Bella then heading upstairs to my office. Can you buzz me when it’s ready?”

  “I’ll bring a tray upstairs,” Shauna said.

  When she opened the study door, books were all over the floor and every flat surface. Bella knelt in front of one, reading.

  “Wow. You must be finding some interesting references.” Cat wondered if leaving Bella alone in the room had been a mistake.

  Bella turned, beaming. “This is exciting. I’ve found information in almost all the books, and now I’m cataloging the books with a brief note about what each covers. There’s no way I’ll get all of this read before the time my plane takes off on Sunday. But if I have the reference, I can order the book from my local library.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Just be careful with the books, please.” Cat didn’t want to explain so she stopped there and changed the subject. “We’ll be meeting at quarter to six to drive over to the library. You are coming, right?”

  Bella sighed and looked around the room. “You said you keep this locked? So no one will be in here messing with my system?”