Murder on Sugar Hill

by Claire Sweeney

  "Charley is in a coma. I hear you visited him the day he went into insulin shock?"

  "Miss Matilda, choose your words carefully. I am the sheriff, not one of your want-to-be slalom racers."

  "Yeah, you are the sheriff, and you could lose that position if the truth came out that you were driving the car the night Buggy was run down."

  "I told you Charley was in the car alone. I happened by and saw Buggy lying beside the road and Charley standing over him. I called 911. How many times do I have to repeat myself before you believe me?"

  "Until the cows come home, as Smiley would say."

  "Miss Matilda, I think we are done here."

  "Sheriff, I find it strange that Charley went into an insulin coma the same day you visited him."

  "You are out of your cotton-picking mind, Miss Matilda!" Sheriff Dudley said as he stalked out of the restaurant.

  "Looks like he stuck you with the check, Sweetie," Maud said plunking the bill on the table.

  "Yep, looks like the good sheriff did just that," Matilda said as she reached for her purse.

  "Better get home, I hear we’re going to get a big snow dump today," Maud said when she returned with the change.

  "Wish I could, but I have another stop to make," Matilda said as she stood.

  "Be careful," Maud said as Matilda walked away.

  Huge snowflakes pummeled Matilda as she stepped out of the restaurant. Big wet snowflakes that would leave Cannon's ski trails one big sheet of ice tomorrow morning. Skiers better sharpen their edges before going skiing tomorrow, Matilda found herself thinking as she got into the Explorer.

  Instead of heading back to the inn, Matilda turned off Main Street onto Ridge Road. Sheriff Wilson's dream home was on a tract of land that had once been slated by the town for an overlook park. On a clear day the view of Cannon Mountain and Lafayette Mountain was spectacular.

  The snow was near blizzard level as Matilda got out of the SUV. Someone had just shoveled Wilson's driveway. She suspected it wasn't the former sheriff as she waked up to the front door.

  No one answered her knock, so she pounded on the door with her walking stick.

  "What in the blazes is the emergency Miss Matilda?" Sheriff Wilson asked when he opened the door.

  "I just talked to your nephew, and he denies being the driver of the car the night Buggy was run down," Miss Matilda said.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "What do you mean, what am I talking about? You confessed to me the other day that Sheriff Dudley was driving the car and not Charley!"

  The old man shook his head. "I don't remember saying anything like that to you. They tell me that my memory is playing tricks on me. Has to do with my cancer treatments. Now if you will excuse me, I'm in the middle of making spaghetti sauce," Sheriff Wilson said and slammed the door.

  Matilda started to knock on the door again but instead turned and walked away. As she did she suddenly recalled that Sheriff Wilson had a difficult time getting the zoning board to approve him building his house on the site that had been selected for a lookout park. As she climbed into her SUV, she recalled that Wilson had lost the first vote to change the zoning of the property.

  "Let's see. The second time someone on the zoning board changed his vote," Matilda said out loud as she started the SUV. She sat in Wilson's driveway as she tried to recall who had changed his vote. Gary Peters! Yes, it was Gary. It had been something of a scandal at the time. Some townspeople speculated that maybe Wilson forced Gary to change the way he voted the first time.

  "I think I'll have to pay Gary's widow a visit," Matilda said to herself as she pulled out of Wilson's driveway. She wished she had waited until after the snowstorm to go to Wilson's house. "I just hope Mrs. Peters can shed some light on why her husband changed his vote."

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Where are the birds?" Matilda said as she entered the inn to find both parrots missing from their cages and perches. "Smiley! Smiley?" Matilda called.

  "Yes, Miss Matilda," Smiley called from upstairs.

  Matilda glanced up to see him coming down the steps with a man in a ski suit following him.

  "Sorry, I had to show Mr. Wright a room. Trixie was busy with Bozo."

  "Where are Tara and John Paul?"

  "Oh my God," Smiley said glancing around the lobby. "They were both on their perches when I left."

  "Anyone lost two parrots?" a middle-aged man in ski gear asked as he walked out of the hallway.

  "Yes," Matilda said. "Have you seen them?"

  "Ha. Ha. Yeah, they walked into the solarium. I was reading the Boston Globe, looked up and saw two parrots walking toward me. "The red and black parrot said, ‘Hello." I told it hello. The other parrot, the rose and white one said, 'John Paul is a bad bird’."

  "I said, ‘No, you are a good bird.’ He answered by saying, ‘Creep! It's check-in time,' as they waddle by me. I started laughing, and the white parrot looked at me and squawked, 'John Paul is a nosey bird.' I thought maybe I should come to the front desk and tell you they were loose."

  "Thank you, I'll go and round up the escapees," Matilda said as she gave Smiley a hard look.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Matilda. They usually just sit on their perches when I have to show a room," Smiley said as Matilda tapped her walking stick extra loud as she hurried down the hall.

  Matilda was almost to the solarium when Tara walked out. She spotted Matilda and stopped.

  "Get in your cage!" she screamed.

  "Yes! Tara is a bad bird," Matilda said as she tapped the tip of her walking stick against the floor.

  "John Paul has a toy. John Paul has a toy!" Tara said as she walked slowly toward Matilda.

  John Paul stuck his head out the solarium. "John Paul is a bad bird," he said.

  "You get into your cage too," Matilda ordered.

  Matilda stood and glared at the two parrots as they walked by her. Each had the posture of a child who had just been scolded by its mother. It took all Matilda could do to keep her stern look.

  "Where have you two been?" Trixie said as she walked out of the lobby.

  "Sunroom! Sunroom!" Tara said. "John Paul has a toy!"

  "You are bad birds," Trixie scolded as the two parrots walked past her.

  "Trixie, Smiley isn't supposed to show rooms," Matilda said. "That's your job."

  "I was taking the head of Nantucket Ski Club on a tour of the inn. He's planning on bringing his club to ski Cannon Mountain next season and wanted to book rooms at the inn."

  "Yeah, but Smiley can't leave Tara and John Paul unattended. You see what kind of mischief they can get into when left alone even for five minutes," Matilda said as she softened her tone.

  "Yes, I'll try harder. I don't know what I would do if something happened to either of them," Trixie said. "How did interrogating Sheriff Dudley go?"

  "He denied everything," Matilda said. "That lying Pinocchio. I'm sure his nose is going to be an inch longer the next time I see him."

  "So, he denied everything that Sheriff Wilson confessed?"

  "Yes, he did. That's not all. I drove up to Wilson's place and confronted him. He said he didn't remember telling me that Sheriff Dudley was driving the car the night that Charley ran down Buggy. The old buzzard said his memory was getting worse."

  "Wow, I don't believe this!" Trixie said.

  "Yeah, that makes two of us. Sheriff Wilson's memory is fine. I’m convinced that Sheriff Dudley has something on his uncle to make him recant his story. And I think it might have something to do with the zoning board passing a resolution allowing Sheriff Wilson to build on the tract of property slated for an overlook park. I thought I’d stop off here and have lunch before I do any more sleuthing. Hopefully, by the time I'm finished eating the snow will have tapered off. It's almost a whiteout."

  "Trudy is serving her famous cream of potato soup," Trixie said.

  "Lucky for me that it's snowing heavily, or I would have missed it. I hope if she ever leaves the inn she will giv
e us the recipe," Matilda said as they entered the lobby. She looked at the cages and found both parrots inside.

  "John Paul has a toy," Tara said. "John Paul is a bad bird."

  "He certainly is, but that doesn't mean you have to be bad, Tara," Matilda said.

  "Tara good bird! Tara pretty bird."

  "Sometimes, but not all the time," Trixie said. "Smiley, Miss Matilda and I are going to have lunch, so please don't let these two out of your sight?"

  "Roger that. Tell Trudy to save me a bowel of potato soup," Smiley said.

  "Matilda, you never talked much about Buggy, and I wasn't around back when he was the top dog on the slopes. Was he that great of a skier?"

  "Trixie, he was the best! No one could ride skies like Buggy. Locals would pull out of a race rather than be humiliated by him. And because he was so good a skier even as a little kid, he was shunned by other kids his age. And it was mostly his fault because he laughed at their slower times in races and told everyone that would listen that he was going to be the first American to win a gold medal in the downhill race in the Olympics."

  "Well if he boasted so much I can see why he was a loner. Nobody likes` a hot dog on the slopes," Trixie said as they took their seats.

  "What? No one is going to come and take our order?" Matilda said teasingly.

  "Yeah, like you would order anything but potato soap," Trixie said. "Getting back to Buggy, why did his parents stop having anything to do with him?"

  "They saw him as their meal tickets to fame and fortune. His parents forced skiing on Buggy. Before he was old enough to walk they would ski down Cannon's Taft trail with Buggy in a sled. They had him on skies a few months after he learned to walk."

  "Wow, that sounds extreme. But I guess it worked if Buggy was as good as you say. I heard that his parents wouldn't pay for his hospital stay after the automobile accident."

  "They saw all their dreams of him winning a gold medal at the Olympics go up in smoke when he broke his hip. I don’t think they ever loved Buggy."

  A young waitress that Matilda had never seen before served them two bowls of cream of potato soup. After she walked away Matilda glanced at Trixie. "Another new waitress?"

  "Yes, they come work a few weeks until they get tired of skiing Cannon and then move to the next ski venue. It’s like a revolving door."

  Matilda tasted her soap. "Heavenly. I try to guess the ingredients, but when I make potato soup, it never comes close to Trudy's. She must have a secret?"

  "Have you asked her how to make it?"

  "More times than I can remember. She says that her sugar cookies and potato soup recipes are her job security. That old cook knows that whatever she does, I won't fire her as long as only she can make her delicious sugar cookies and cream of potato soup."

  "And, of course, she’s correct. What would the inn be without its famous sugar cookies? I think we could make a fortune selling them over the internet, Miss Matilda."

  "God, I hate computers. And look how many local stores have been put out of business because people are buying online instead of going to a brick and mortar store. It's sinful, just sinful."

  "Miss Matilda, sometimes I think you were born a century too late," Trixie said and looked at her empty soup bowl. "Delicious as always."

  "Hmm, horse and buggies...no coffee maker...no thank you!" Matilda said as she placed her empty spoon in her soup bowl.

  "I think the snow is slacking off," Trixie said.

  "Good, I want to drive over and have a word with Gary Peters' widow," Matilda said.

  "Why?"

  "I want to ask if she knows why Gary changed his vote the second time Sheriff Wilson brought his proposal to have his property rezoned and end the city eminent domain action against him."

  "Do you think there’s something suspicious about the man changing his vote?" Trixie asked.

  "Yes, there weren't friends. Sheriff Wilson once arrested Gary for DWI. I asked myself why he would change his vote for someone he disliked."

  "Money?" Trixie asked.

  "Most likely. Mrs. Peters might know something."

  "Knowing and telling are two different things," Trixie warned.

  "Well, I can only try," Matilda said as she stood. "Let's go and see if our two jailbirds are reformed."

  "Miss Matilda, I'm afraid there is no reforming John Paul."

  "Yeah, he reminds me a lot of Buggy, talented and stubborn," Matilda said. "Did you know Buggy lost one of his skis during a race and finished with only one ski and won?"

  "Yep, I've heard that story about a thousand times! Everyone in Sugar Hill loves to tell that hail Mary finish," Trixie said.

  "Well, it's a story worth telling," Matilda said as she walked into the lobby.

  "Get in your cage!" Tara screamed the moment she saw Matilda.

  "I'll let you out if you will be a good bird?" Matilda said.

  "Tara good bird. Tara pretty bird."

  "Not always," Trixie said as she walked past the check-in desk. "Smiley, call me if someone wants to see a room," she added before hurrying upstairs.

  "Okay, Smiley, let the jailbirds out," Matilda said as she grabbed her old faded ski school jacket off the coat rack.

  "John Paul is a bad bird. John Paul has a toy," Tara said.

  "He's on probation," Smiley said as he opened the door to Tara's cage first. "Okay, John Paul, you can come out too," he added opening the cockatoo's cage.

  "See you later, Smiley," Matilda called over her shoulder as she opened the door.

  Flakes drifted leisurely to the snow-covered ground as Matilda walked to her SUV. "At least I can see where I'm going now," Matilda said as she pulled out of the parking lot.

  Gary Peter's widow lived on Gale River Drive. Matilda was glad she had four-wheel drive as she turned off Sugar Hill Road and onto a long gravel lane leading to the Peters' house. Even in four-wheel drive, the SUV slipped on the ice as she turned the sharp curve just before the house, which was nestled in a grove of spruce trees.

  She didn't know Stephanie Peters very well. She ran into her coming and going from the post office occasionally and sometimes at Kelly's Grocery Store. When they did meet, they seldom even exchanged more than a hello.

  Matilda eyed the house as she pulled into the driveway. It was a simple house with cedar shingles and blended well with the spruce trees. Matilda figured that in the hot summer it was a delight, but in colder weather, it must be very drab and damp so close to the Gale River.

  A light knock on the door brought the sound of footsteps. The woman who opened the door was chubby with stringy gray hair that hadn't seen a comb for a while.

  "Yes!" Stephanie said as she opened the door.

  The almost hostile greeting took Matilda by surprise.

  "Nasty weather we’re having today, isn't it?"

  "Not nasty enough to keep some people off the roads."

  "Yeah, well through rain, sleet and snow . . ."

  "What, are you delivering the mail now?" the plump woman interrupted Matilda.

  "No, I don't think with my bum hip I could traipse through the snow."

  "You made it to my door," the woman remarked.

  "Yes, well I needed to talk to you about Gary," Matilda said. "Do you mind if I come inside."

  "He's dead and gone, and I'm glad," Stephanie said. "Does that shock you?" she asked as she stepped aside for Matilda to enter.

  "I guess it does. I thought you and your husband were a perfect couple?"

  "Yeah, he liked to put on a show. But believe me, it was all show. He would lock me in the house whenever he went to zoning board meetings or to gamble at the Indian casinos. If I left the house, he would scream at me when he returned."

  "Really? Wow, I thought Gary was a perfect gentleman."

  "He was, just not to me," Stephanie said with a sigh. "I can't remember how many times he sent me to the hospital over the years."

  "That's terrible."

  "I survived." She glanced into Matilda’s eyes. "Now w
hat brings you to my door in a snowstorm?"

  "I need some information about a zoning board meeting where Gary changed his vote."

  "What? Are you trying to dig up dirt on him?"

  "Ah to be honest with you, I think he took money to change his vote on the zoning board. I thought maybe you might know something about the zoning board meeting in question?"

  "Are you trying to expose him as a crooked politician?"

  "Well if he took money to change his vote, then he was crooked."

  "And you expect me, his widow to help expose him?"

  "If you put it that way, I guess I do."

  "Good. I'm so sick and tired of everyone telling me what a wonderful man Gary was. What do you want to know about him? It's time the community knew the real Gary Peters."

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Here's the tea," Stephanie said as she brought a tray with a ceramic teapot and cups and set it on the glass-top coffee table in front of the ragged sofa. "Now," she said as she poured Matilda a cup of Earl Grey Tea, "what do you want to know about Gary?"

  "It concerns a couple of zoning board meetings," Matilda said after she took a sip of tea.

  Stephanie shook her head. "He never allowed me to attend one. I'm afraid I can't help you."

  "Did he ever talk about what went on during the meetings?"

  "He ranted and raved about them. If a meeting didn't go as he wanted it to go, he would take his anger out on me…yelling at me at the top of his voice. I learned just to nod at anything he said and keep silent."

  "Do you remember years ago when Sheriff Wilson retired and asked the zoning board to allow him to build on the tract of land that the town had slated for an overview park on Sugar Hill Road?"

  "Yes, I do. Gary hated Sheriff Wilson. Gary is the one who convinced enough members to vote against the proposal to block it. He said it was payback for the DWI ticket that Sheriff Wilson had given him. Gary was a vindictive man."