Eat, Drink and Be Wary

by Devon Delaney

  “Just to be safe, don’t answer the door under any circumstances,” Pep said. “The key’s under the doormat, so no need to wait up for us if you fall asleep.”

  “Not if, when. I’m exhausted.” Charlotte’s tone was as sweet as honey. “See you soon.”

  “Let’s go, Dad,” Sherry said.

  * * *

  Sherry considered the majority of the cook-off guests and sponsors had departed the inn. She scanned the deserted property. Inns and hotels were sad places when they weren’t full of visitors. The upcoming apple season might draw the crowds Ginger needed to spark cash growth and get the inn back on its feet, but too many days like this and Ginger’s retirement would be right around the corner.

  “First, let’s gather Charlotte’s stuff. Then we’ll find Ginger. I’ll check Charlotte out and pay her bill,” Pep said.

  Solar lights guided Sherry and Pep down the pathway toward the inn. As they entered the inn’s majestic colonial entrance, Sherry noticed, for the first time, the flakes of paint chipping off the columns. The ornate trim framing the porch was littered with cracks and splits. The floor leading to the oversized wooden doors was in desperate need of refinishing. The whitewashing was nearly all worn away, and the exposed wood was turning green from weather exposure.

  Once inside, the wide, red-carpeted hallway led them to the back of the first floor.

  “How did you sneak in here without being seen these last few days?” Sherry asked.

  Pep smiled a cat-with-a-bird-in-its-mouth grin. “Mum’s the word. What if I need to sneak in again? I don’t want to give away any secrets.”

  “I thought you were done with secrets,” Sherry said.

  They came to rest in front of room 119.

  “You’re right. No more secrets. I went unnoticed the old-fashioned way. After we met Oxana, she lent me a bellhop uniform and a cap. Ginger’s had to let nearly all the bellmen go anyway. I carried Charlotte’s suitcase back and forth about twenty times in the guise of working at the inn and helping my guest to her room. The things you do for love. My goal was not to get recognized, at least until after the cook-off, so the baby news didn’t distract. Mission accomplished, thanks in large part to Oxana.”

  Pep reached in his jeans pocket and pulled out the room key. “One of the last hotels not to use a keycard, I bet. Probably too expensive to modernize.” He inserted the key. Before he applied any pressure, the door swung open. “Uh-oh. Someone’s been in here.”

  Sherry shivered. “Or is still in there.” A second later she heard a crash. “Pep,” she hissed. “Don’t go in.”

  She might as well have said, “get in that room as quick as you can so whoever’s in there can bop you on the head and add you to the body count.”

  Pep flung the door wide open. “What are you doing in here? This isn’t your room.” Pep shouted with as much ferocity as Sherry had ever heard him generate.

  Sherry put one shaky foot in front of the other and scanned the room for intruders. A few feet inside the bedroom, Pep was holding a block of a man by his squirming shoulders.

  “Look who I found in Charlotte’s room. What the hell are you doing in here?”

  Roe choked on his reply.

  “Speak up,” Pep said. “What’s in your hand?”

  Roe wriggled free of Pep’s grip. He opened his clenched hand. In his palm was a small gold box.

  “Not that it’s any of your business.” Roe lifted the box to eye level.

  Sherry studied the soiled box.

  “I believe you were planting evidence in this room,” Pep shouted.

  “Slow down with your accusations. This isn’t even your room. You’re trespassing. At least I got permission to enter. See?” Roe held up a room key. “Maybe I’ll just go find Ms. Constable and discuss the situation with her.”

  “Why are you still in Augustin, Roe?” Sherry asked.

  “Maine Course has a few details to clean up.” Roe puffed out his chest. “Uri and I work closely together on a number of projects, and what goes on behind the scenes is as important as the quality we bring to the consumer.” Roe’s words became robotic and scripted.

  “Like break-ins and falsified reports?” Sherry added.

  “I hear shouting. I see three people in here, none of whom the room is registered to,” Ginger announced in a harsh monotone as she entered the room. “There’s been enough foul play going on at the inn, and I don’t need any more, please.”

  “We have Charlotte’s full permission to be in here. We came to collect her stuff and check her out. She’s staying with Sherry tonight,” Pep said. “No idea what Roe’s doing here.”

  The heat of the looks exchanged between Roe and Ginger could ignite a charcoal grill.

  “Roe, my error. You’re in the wrong room. I found Roe in the lobby and asked if he’d do me a favor. I sent him to return a box to a guest, since Addison is already in bed after your nice dinner.” Ginger lowered her gaze before making eye contact with Sherry again.

  “If you gave him the key, wouldn’t you know this was Charlotte’s room? One nineteen?” Pep asked Ginger.

  “I have dyslexia. It’s a little known fact I keep under wraps. Doesn’t help that my livelihood is centered around room numbers and spelling names, but I do the best I can. Roe, I meant to give you the key for room one ninety-one.” Ginger manufactured the smile Sherry had seen her welcome guests with many times over the last few days. “Follow me. I’ll take you down to the room. I’ll see you two at the front desk in a few minutes for checkout.”

  Ginger strutted out of the room before Sherry could respond. Roe tucked his chin to his chest and followed closely behind.

  “Same box Oxana had and gave to me and I rammed into Vilma’s Danish. There was even a yellow smear on the box from the lemon curd. There’s a fishhook inside, or at least there was when I opened it,” Sherry said. “Fitz gets a fishing hook calling card in his neck. Common thread. Roe was sent to return the box with a fishing hook. The same box I returned to Vilma. How’d Roe get it?”

  She and Pep came up with one name simultaneously. “Uri,” they shouted.

  “Roe claims he went to the wrong room. Or at least that was the story. More likely, Roe was planting the hook in the room, so evidence points to you,” Sherry said.

  Pep unzipped Charlotte’s suitcase. “All they’d have had to do is plant that fishhook in here. One call to Detective Bease to search Charlotte’s room, and I would be under arrest. I wish we could find Oxana.”

  “Do you really think Addison’s in bed? Maybe he could help us find her.” Sherry handed Pep Charlotte’s toiletries from the bathroom.

  “Addison is staying two doors down in room one twenty-three. He was very nice to keep our secret after we passed him numerous times in the hall.”

  Sherry opened each bureau drawer and emptied the contents into the suitcase. When they were satisfied the room was cleared of Charlotte’s belongings, they headed down the hallway.

  “Made this journey a few times, carrying this suitcase while in costume. Not sure I was fooling anyone, but you never found out, right?”

  Sherry came to a halt. “Nothing to brag about, fooling your sister.”

  “You’re the world’s best amateur sleuth, so it’s a pretty fine accomplishment.” Pep put down the suitcase, reached around, and patted himself on the back.

  “A slight exaggeration. Listen, you might have fooled me for a little while, I’ll give you that. And I’m none too happy about it. Mark my words, your day will come, little bro. I can pull the wool over an unsuspecting victim with the best of ’em.”

  “If nothing else, this visit back to Augustin is showing me a feisty side of you I’ve never seen before. I’m liking the new and improved Sherry.”

  Sherry’s grim expression melted. “How do you always manage to stay on my good side, despite frustrating me to no end?”

  “Little brother magic,” Pep said.

  When they arrived at Addison’s door, Pep pounded with his f
ist. “Wanna make sure he can hear me.”

  Sherry winced. “I think everyone can hear you.” She leaned in toward the door and heard nothing. “He can’t still be asleep after that onslaught.” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Addison. It’s Sherry and Pep. Are you in there?”

  Silence.

  “Ginger was wrong. He’s not asleep. He can’t be inside. Maybe he’s down in the lobby,” Pep said.

  “Hey, guys, long time, no see.”

  Sherry’s head swiveled in the direction of the booming voice. “Addison. There you are.”

  “Do you need me? Technically, I’m not on the clock right now. Ginger only allots me a firm number of hours a day so she can keep my pay in check. And that’s no understatement. I need to save up some hours to put the finishing touches on that darn maze. It’s beginning to give me nightmares. I can’t seem to shore up the walls.” Addison shifted the large metal box he was carrying in order to reach in his pants pocket.

  “Is that a tackle box?” Pep asked. “Doing some fishing? Maybe for Maine Course?”

  “Yes, it’s a tackle box, but I’m not fishing. My job with Maine Course is pretty much done. The cook-off’s in the wrap-up stages. So is my fishing career.” Addison glanced at the box. “This is my last piece of equipment. I’m looking for a buyer. I sold my best tackle box to Roe, and I know he’ll put it to good use. I’m out of the fishing business. There’s no money in it anymore. Really hasn’t been a money maker for a long time.”

  Sherry detected regret in Addison’s voice. “You’re so good with your hands. I’m sure you’ll find your passion. Ginger must have a million jobs for you.”

  “I’m here if she does. What can I do for you two? Were you looking for me?”

  “We need to get in touch with Oxana. She’s not answering her phone. I didn’t want to bother Ginger because she’s up to her elbows, but someone should make sure Oxana’s okay. Vilma was her aunt, you know. First, she finds a dead body in the barn and now her aunt is gone. Has to be tough on the girl.”

  Addison held a steady gaze into Sherry’s eyes. “She works here. She doesn’t live here. She’s a student and has more than one cleaning job.”

  “Okay. Figured you might have an idea where we could find her. Has Uri checked out of his room?” Sherry knew the answer but wanted to keep Addison engaged.

  Addison edged closer to his door. He drew in a deep breath. “Detective Bease said he wasn’t able to conduct certain interviews until tomorrow. Out of courtesy, and for Ginger’s sake, I hope, Uri said he won’t be checking out until tomorrow.”

  “Do you know where . . .” Sherry began.

  “Uri’s in the bar outside the library. When I spoke to him, after I returned from your dinner, he was in quite a mood. Consider yourself warned.” Addison inserted his room key into the lock. “Have a good evening.”

  Chapter 26

  The lobby was deserted when Sherry rang the service bell. She admired the historic character of the scratched, dinged wooden desk that housed the bell, a leather-bound guestbook, and an inkwell. A computer sat on the desktop as the only indication the inn was operating in the modern era. The two quilted armchairs positioned alongside the desk had held many a backside over the decades and were a lot worse for the wear. Sherry ran her fingers across the frayed edges and split seems. Behind the desk was a brick statement wall Sherry thought possibly had once been the building’s main fireplace, later bricked up. Too bad. It would make for a dramatic welcoming feature for visitors.

  Sherry and Pep waited in the quiet of the entryway when suddenly, shouting broke out behind a closed door to the right of the desk. They exchanged glances. Pep sidestepped closer to the door. The angry voices continued until he was within two steps of the door. Sherry waved her arms frantically when she saw the door begin to give way. Out scrambled Ginger and Uri. Uri’s face was beet red. Sherry could see his chest heaving as he tried to manage his rapid breathing.

  Ginger pushed up the sleeves of her blouse. “We’ll discuss this later, Uri.”

  Uri shouldered past Pep and tipped his head toward Sherry. He marched past the desk, pounded his clenched fist on the battered wood, and exited out the front door.

  “Give me one minute to bring up Charlotte’s reservation.” Ginger’s voice cracked as she tapped on the keyboard.

  “Everything okay?” Sherry asked.

  Ginger held her gaze on the computer screen. “Uri and I are in a disagreement about saving the inn. His feeling is that we should concentrate on Maine Course Foods for now and hope a third party comes in with capital for the inn. It’s been a week of high highs and low lows. I don’t have the energy for any more bad news.”

  Pep handed Ginger a credit card.

  “That’s what I need. A gentleman with a credit card to pay my bills. Charlotte’s one lucky gal. I’ll be right back with your receipt.” She took the card to the room behind the desk.

  “Hope this isn’t all too much for her. The inn seems like it’s under a curse right now.” Sherry shut her lips when Ginger reappeared. She was a moment too late.

  “Maybe a curse. Wouldn’t be surprised if Clarence Constable were sending a message from the great beyond. Dad doesn’t want to see the inn go down in flames as much as I don’t.” Ginger placed the room charge receipt and credit card in Pep’s hand. She moved closer to Sherry. “Sherry, I need you to find the killer or killers. My future depends on it happening quickly and without any more damage to the inn’s reputation. I had a slim hope I could save the inn, but so much is happening so quickly, I’m beginning to doubt myself. I have to make some tough choices.”

  “I’m doing the best I can. You’re not the only one who needs the investigation wrapped up in a neat bow.” Sherry’s sight darted to Pep. “Do you, in all certainty, think Uri is completely innocent?”

  “Don’t make me answer that. Please. Don’t. Just see what you can come up with. I’m begging you.” Ginger stepped behind the desk.

  “Good evening.” A voice interrupted Sherry’s attempt to temper Ginger’s plea.

  Sherry turned to see Roe approach.

  “Sherry, when you’re done here, I could use a moment of your time,” he said.

  Ginger tapped on the keyboard without acknowledging the man who came to rest an arm’s length away. She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I need to make a call. Don’t be strangers, you two. Roe, if you need me, dial zero from your room phone.”

  Sherry inched closer to Pep. “Yes?” was all she could come up with.

  The pleasant grin on Roe’s face flowed down to a scowl. His eyes were bloodshot. He blinked repeatedly, as if they were irritated. “Sherry, you’ve found killers before. Killers who wanted to destroy lives and communities. I need you to find who killed Fitz and Vilma. I know it’s the same person. I am one hundred percent certain. It’s someone who wants to see me take the fall.” Roe drew in a deep breath. “It wasn’t me. I’m no saint, but I’m not a murderer.”

  Sherry put her hand on Pep’s arm. His forearm muscle was flexed, ready to spring into action.

  “Why should she help you? You’ve done some terrible things.” Pep’s voice rumbled to a near shout. “Sherry and I have put you on top of the suspect list. We just can’t quite find the smoking gun. But mark my words, if you did it, you’ll pay dearly. Fitz didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Vilma.”

  Sherry’s throat tightened. She steeled herself for the words she was about to spout. “The oldest trick in the book is to initiate an investigation, to deflect from being considered the guilty party. Planting evidence on someone else may be the second oldest.”

  “They do sound like plausible tricks, but, truthfully, I didn’t do either. Yes, I was sent up to Charlotte’s guest room to place a box on the dresser. No, I didn’t do it. I had a change of heart when I saw the prenatal vitamins on the bureau. I want kids one day. I was told the box belonged to Charlotte. I know that’s not the case.”

  “Plead your innocence. Be my guest,” Pep
said. “You’re wasting your time, though. A guy who authors false reports on the quality of a company’s products is guilty until proven innocent in my court of law. You’re not much of a fishing expert either, may I add.”

  “The night of the Fall Fest Cook-off contestant meet and greet, I was working the room as Maine Course’s sustainable fishing expert. Not my chosen profession, I admit, but to help Uri out I studied the necessary info and recited what I had to say. The guy’s given me employment for years, and I owe him.” Roe cocked his head to one side. “I don’t want to owe him anymore.”

  “You were terrible. Worst expert on something I’ve ever come across,” Pep said. “I know more about making the perfect crème brûlée than you know about sustainable fishing, and I’ve never made a dessert in my life.”

  “Okay, okay, guys, let’s stay on topic,” Sherry said. “You say you were at the cocktail party, but that’s no alibi. The murder occurred after the party. Any witnesses as to where you were between nine PM and one AM? And your buddy Uri doesn’t count. He’s as guilty as you, at this point.”

  “Before the party, Uri gave me an assignment. Warn Fitz to keep a secret or pay the price. I completed my assignment, as I always do.”

  “If I was recording this conversation, you’d be in prison in about the time it takes me to poach an egg. You realize that?” Sherry pointed her index finger at Roe. “Pep, I’ll dial Detective Bease, you hold Roe right here.”

  Roe put up his hands in surrender. “Hear me out. Fitz knew Uri’s had to resort to, shall we say, creative measures to bring the cost of his product down to profitable levels. He’d seen the trucks delivering product from overseas. But a guy’s gotta make a living. I mean, sustainable local is one thing, but what dope’ll pay forty dollars a pound for Boston cod? Southeast Asia has some wonderful fish for export right now, and we should take advantage of that. Consumers are worrywarts. It’s nearly the same product. Besides, Fitz was profiting from keeping a secret. He wasn’t completely innocent himself.”