Matilda didn't respond; instead, she scanned the paper. "I think you included everything you told me the other day. And I don't want to dig any farther into your shady dealings as sheriff," Matilda said shaking her head.
"Good! Now leave me alone."
I don't feel as guilty as I did when I arrived, Matilda thought as she walked back to her SUV. I think the good sheriff has more skeletons in his closet than just bribing Gary.
As she drove back to the inn, Matilda decided not to call Sheriff Dudley for another appointment. Instead, she thought to corner him when he came for his afternoon coffee and sugar cookies with Trudy.
"Hello!" Tara called out
"Check in time," John Paul added.
Matilda glanced at Smiley. "Guests love it when they talk. Most have never seen a talking parrot."
Matilda nodded at the splintered end of the counter. "Please try to keep them for chewing on the wood. Put some wood shingles in their cages so they can use them as chew toys. I can't afford to buy twenty-dollar toys for them to shred in ten minutes."
"I’ll try that," Smiley said.
"Where's Trixie?"
"She and Ann Bixby are inspecting rooms."
"Hmm, she’s become tight with the Bixby women. I hope she remembers that Ann's boyfriend runs an inn that competes with us for skiers," Matilda said. "Ring Trudy and have someone bring me a cup of coffee to the solarium. I need a caffeine fix."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh, have you figured out why Tara says that John Paul has a toy?"
"No, it's a mystery to me. I haven’t seen him with anything."
"I never know what goes through that bird's mind," Matilda said as she walked away.
The first thing she noticed when she entered the solarium was that Trixie had put up new curtains and had the blackened section of the wall repainted.
She's coming along nicely. I had my doubts when she first arrived after the death of her parents, Matilda thought. She was strung out on drugs and depressed. Putting her in charge of the chambermaids was the best move I've made. That and demanding that she take ski lessons.
Matilda smiled.
Of course, she's never going to be a great skier, but she skis well enough to ski with the tourists.
"Coffee, milady."
Matilda glance at the door. "So, you work in the kitchen too?"
"No, Smiley said you were in here and ordered coffee. I took it from one of the no-name waitresses."
"You aren't relying too much on Ann Bixby, are you?"
"I don't think so. She has an eye for details. She's good inspecting rooms. Of course, the other chambermaids resent her."
"I wouldn't worry about that. She is a temp. As soon as Charley passes, she'll be the queen of The Horse and Hound. I do hope you are grooming a replacement for her."
"Hmm, I better do that. And you’re right. She’ll leave the moment Charley dies and Carl takes charge of the Horse and Hound."
"She'll probably do a better job than Carl. From what I saw when we visited Charley, the cleaning is slack," Matilda said.
"So, when are you going to confront Sheriff Dudley?"
"As soon as he comes for his coffee and sugar cookies," Matilda said.
"Better keep all sharp implements out of reach when you show him Sheriff Wilson's signed confession."
"It not sharp implements I’m worried about. He does carry a loaded revolver, although chances are if he pulled it he would likely shoot himself in the foot," Matilda said.
"You aren't really worried about him threatening you, are you?" Trixie asked.
"Heavens, no. He's not the brightest bulb but he's no idiot either," Matilda said. "Oh, he will rant and rave but that's the sum of it."
"Well, I hope you’re right," Trixie said.
"How is Bozo? I haven't seen him since we brought him back from Kelly's."
"His rash is gone. He's been annoying the chambermaids running in and out of their rooms playing the caped crusader. Some of the new girls get a little freaked when they see a forty-year-old hunchback wearing a towel around his neck dashing around the rooms they are cleaning. If he spots a hair on the toilet seat or sink he shouts, hair, hair and runs out of the room."
"Yeah, but they'll get used to it. He's harmless."
"Miss Matilda, if it wasn't for you he would be locked away in some horrible mental hospital."
"He's part of the Franklin Inn family of peculiars," Matilda said as she put down her cup of coffee.
"I hope you don't include me in your family of peculiars," Trixie said.
"Oh, you are at the top of the list, Trixie!"
Chapter Seventeen
“Hello!”
Matilda stopped writing payroll checks when she heard Tara.
“Sugar cookie time,” John Paul squawked from the lobby.
Matilda glanced at her cell phone. Looks like Sheriff Dudley is right on time, she thought knowing that he’d come for his coffee and sugar cookies. Matilda took a deep breath. I’ll give him his quality time with Trudy.
She didn’t like having to confront Sheriff Dudley again. The fact was she felt a little guilty about her meeting with Sheriff Wilson. He was dying of cancer, and she had pulled his skeletons out of his closet. I must keep in mind that he is the cause of his problems and not me.
“Miss Matilda,” Smiley said sticking his head inside her office.
“Yes?”
“You told me to tell you when Sheriff Dudley arrived.”
“Yeah, I heard Tara and John Paul’s greetings and figured it was the sheriff.
Smiley chuckled. “Yeah, they always greet everyone who enters the inn,” he said before he closed the door.
Matilda wrote out four more checks before she walked out of her office.
“John Paul has a toy!” Tara greeted her.
“Smiley, do try to find out why Tara is saying that?” Matilda said as she walked past the check-in desk.
She spotted Trudy and Sheriff Dudley the moment she opened the door to the dining room. Hmm, they are sitting at the table like two love birds, Matilda thought as she approached.
“Look, Miss Matilda,” Trudy said as she held up her left hand.
Matilda’s mouth dropped open when she saw the diamond ring.
“He asked me to marry him!” Trudy said as tears ran down her cheeks.
“She said yes,” Sheriff Dudley added.
“Uh...congratulations. Wow, I didn’t see this coming,” Matilda said as she pulled out a chair. “Mind if I join you?”
“Please do, Miss Matilda,” Trudy said. She wiped her cheeks. “God, I’m crying like a schoolgirl.”
“You have a reason to cry,” Matilda said. “I’m very happy for you, Trudy.”
“Thank you, Miss Matilda. I’m a very lucky woman.”
“No, I’m the lucky one,” Sheriff Dudley said.
“Honey, I have to get back to work,” Trudy said. “I’m cooking a prime rib for dinner and have to check on it.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up after work,” Sheriff Dudley said sweetly as he watched the chubby woman stand. He started to rise out of his chair also.
“Sheriff Dudley,” Matilda said softly. “Could I have a word with you?”
A frown flashed across the sheriff’s face.
“Sure,” he said curtly as he watched Trudy disappear into the kitchen.
“I visited Sheriff Wilson again,” Matilda said.
“You just won't’ let it rest will you, Miss Matilda?”
“I wish I could, but I can’t”
“I bet he told you that he misspoke when he accused me of being the driver when Buggy was run down. I guess you wasted your time.”
“Sheriff Dudley, I visited Stephanie Peters before I confronted Sheriff Wilson.”
“What’s she got to do with it?”
“Her, nothing. But Gary Peters has everything to do with why Sheriff Wilson recounted his statement that you were driving Charley’s car,” Matilda said.
She
riff Dudley didn’t respond. He glared across the table at her.
“You threatened to expose that he bribed Gary Peters to get him to change his vote at the second zoning board meeting where he asked them to rezone his property if he didn’t recant his statement.”
“I did no such thing…”
“Your uncle says differently,” Matilda said. “She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of yellow lined paper. “I have his signed written statement that you were in the car with Charley. And his statement that Charley confessed to him last week that you were the one driving the car when it hit Buggy,” Matilda said as she unfolded the paper and placed it on the table.
Sheriff Dudley snatched it and started reading. He sighed deeply when he finished.
“Why are you dragging this up after ten years? Buggy is dead. What does it matter who was driving the car?”
“Because Buggy was murdered, and you had a good reason to kill him,” Matilda said calmly. “Sheriff Wilson told you that Charley had confessed to Buggy that you were the driver when he visited Buggy at Dartmouth. You killed Buggy to keep him from revealing the truth. If it became known that you covered up the fact that you were the driver, it would end you career. Maybe even get you a jail sentence.”
“I didn’t kill Buggy. I swear Miss Matilda I didn’t kill him. Sure, I argued with him in the solarium…” Sheriff Dudley stopped.
“Go on.”
“He was alive when I left him!” Sheriff Dudley snapped. “I did not kill Buggy! And you have no evidence to prove I did.”
“You didn’t want him telling anyone that you were driving the car, did you? If it became common knowledge, you would have to resign as Sheriff. And you are going to have to resign.”
“Why would I kill Buggy to keep him silent? He’s wasn’t the only one who knew. Charley knew I was driving the car, and he told my uncle. Anyway, the statute of limitations is six years. They can’t prosecute me for the accident. And so what if word got out that I was driving the car? I’m not going to run for sheriff again. Trudy and I are going to open a bakery after we’re married.”
“You visited Charley the day he went into a coma,” Matilda said with raised eyebrows.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I think someone purposely overdosed Charley,” Matilda said.
“What would I have to gain? He already told my uncle that I was driving the car,” Sheriff Dudley said.
“True,” Matilda mumbled.
“So, is your interrogation over?”
“I want you to resign as sheriff. If not, I will go to the Union Leader with the information I have on you and Wilson. It certainly looks bad that you blackmailed your uncle into changing his statement. And it shows what low moral character you possess. Maybe you didn’t kill Buggy. But I know for a fact that you aren’t fit to be a sheriff,” Matilda said as she stood up. She turned and walked away.
“Who made you judge and jury?” Sheriff Dudley called after Matilda.
Trixie met Matilda at the door. “I heard loud voices.”
“Yeah, my conversation with Sheriff Dudley did get a little bit loud,” Matilda said as she walked into the lobby.
“John Paul has got a toy!” Tara called out.
“Smiley, I don’t suppose you’ve figured out yet why Tara is saying that?”
“No ma’am. I don’t have a clue,” Smiley said as Trixie and Matilda walked into her office.
“Did Sheriff Dudley confess to killing Buggy?” Trixie asked as Matilda sat down at her desk.
“He swore he didn’t.”
“Do you believe him?” Trixie asked.
Matilda paused. “Yes, I believe him. But he has to resign as sheriff for lying about who was driving when Charley’s car hit Buggy.”
“Will he?”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll call a reporter I know at the Union Leader and tell her the story of what really happened the night of Buggy’s accident. As proof, I’ll fax them Sheriff Wilson’s statement.”
“Why not just go to the police?”
“Their hands are tied. The statute of limitations has run out,” Matilda told her.
“So, if neither Jack nor Sheriff Dudley killed Buggy, who did?” Trixie asked.
“Someone we are overlooking.”
“But no one else has a motive.”
“Someone had a motive. We just haven’t found out what the motive is. If we find that out, the killer will become obvious,” Matilda said.
“Find the motive and you find the killer. That sounds like a backward approach.”
“No, Trixie. Normally people don’t kill just for the sport of it. Therefore, if you isolate the motive for murdering Buggy it will lead straight to the killer. Unfortunately, at this point in time we don’t know the reason behind the murder.”
“What are you going to do about Sheriff Wilson bribing Gary Peters to change his vote on the zoning board?” Trixie asked.
“Nothing. He’s dying. Let him live the rest of the time he has in peace,” Matilda said.
“Hmm, the local coven is going to have to take your black pointed hat away and kick you out for being soft hearted.”
“Once Sheriff Wilson passes, I’ll go to the mayor with the evidence I have that he bribed Gary. I’ll strongly suggest that the mayor start eminent domain proceedings against the property. Sheriff Wilson’s house would make a great home for our tourist bureau.”
“Yeah, that sounds like justice. But what about finding Buggy’s murderer?”
“We keep looking.”
Chapter Eighteen
Matilda felt a surge of nostalgia as she watched the chair of the ski lift scoop up Smiley and whisk him away. Race gates dotted the gentle slope like a disjointed snake.
Smiley and the other over forty-year-old participants were not racing against each other. They were racing against the course time set by a pro skier only moments ago. The racer with the closest time to the pro’s course time after two runs would win the race.
Smiley was not a ski racer, but neither were the others. It was a fun race for tourists and recreational skiers. No serious racer would participate.
The Cannon Mountain Ski School sponsored the race. It was the last one of the season. The winner would get an official Cannon Mountain Ski School jacket, a prized possession for anyone that skied Cannon Mountain.
"Does he have a chance?" Trixie asked as she approached on her short beginner skis. Matilda secretly wonder if she would ever become good enough to abandon them for longer skies.
"If Stan Middleman of Raynor's Inn breaks his leg, he just might have a chance.
"But Stan is nearly seventy-years old."
"And can still ski circles around Smiley. He grew up skiing," Matilda pointed out.
"Yeah, that's the problem I'm having. All the people I ski with have skied all their lives. No matter how hard I try or how many ski lessons I take, I can't keep up with them. It's as though I'm walking while they’re running."
"Then ski by yourself. Enjoy the experience of gliding down the slopes and stop competing with the locals," Matilda said.
"Here comes the first skier!" Trixie said pointing up the slope.
Matilda found it painful to watch the man ski the gates. She kept thinking how she would have edged around the gates instead of sliding wide around them as the man did. And for God's sake, at times he had his skis in a snowplow position instead of parallel.
Smiley can beat his time!
"Here comes the next one," Trixie called out.
The man in a purple ski jacket crashed into a gate halfway down the course. He tumbled head over heels for several feet. Everyone watched nervously to see if he would get to his feet. Finally, the skier raised his hand to signal he was okay.
"That would be me if I tried to race," Trixie said. "I’d get scared and go into a snowplow."
"He tried. And he didn't snowplow," Matilda said.
They watched several more racers skiing the course before Trix
ie exclaimed. "Here comes Smiley."
Matilda recognized Smiley’s puffy gray ski jack as he came into view. Matilda mentally wished him to ski closer to the gates and edge his skis more as he flashed past the gates. But her mental efforts didn't get him to ski closer to the gates or edge his skis at more of an angle.
The announcer, Jack McGurin, called out Smiley's time as he skied across the finish line.
"That's the best time so far," Trixie said.
"Yeah, but Stan has yet to ski the course," Matilda reminded her. "And here he comes."
The old man did all the things that Smiley failed to do as Matilda watch him flash through the gates. He leaned into them so that he skied around the gates on the edge of his skies so close that his arms hit the poles. And on the straights, he briefly tucked his body low and glided.
When Stan rushed across the finish line, Jack called out a time much faster than Smiley's.
"Well at least Smiley is in second place," Trixie said. "It would be nice for his ego to win a medal."
"Yeah, I can see him wearing it proudly as he checks in guests," Matilda said.
"Let's keep our fingers crossed that someone else doesn't ski faster than his time on the second run," Trixie said. "He can probably just ski slowly down the next heat and win second place."
"Yes, he should ski conservatively on the next run," Matilda agreed.
"Have you had any more thoughts about who murdered Buggy? It seems we’ve gone through our two suspects and are left without one."
"I feel that I'm missing something. The dots are there, but I can't seem to connect them," Matilda said. "Now this is where Watson would come up with a great idea."
"Hmm, I guess we aren't very good sleuths," Trixie said. "Gee, it's cold. My hands are numb even though I'm wearing mittens."
"It's my feet that get cold, not my hands," Matilda said.
"Maybe, Buggy's murder will never be solved," Trixie said as she spotted the first racer skiing through the gates. "He looks slow."
"Yeah, he’s practically snowplowing down the course," Matilda agreed with a hint of disdain in her voice.
"Hmm, remind me never to let you watch me run a race course?" Trixie said.
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