“What is it?” I followed her eyes as she stared inside the freezer.
There, slumped over in the corner and frozen stiff as a popsicle, was Mr. Squishy.
Chapter 3
“Well I’ll be,” Sheriff Tucker Grady said as he stared into the walk-in freezer. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”
Thank you, Captain Obvious. Way to earn that salary. “Can you get him out of here?” I didn’t want the police at the lodge any longer than necessary. A dead man on the property wasn’t exactly a booming endorsement for the business.
Grady stood with his arms crossed and chuckled. “Normally, I’d tell the boys at the funeral home to put him on ice, but this fella already is.”
Myra had gone into the office to warn my mother about what was going on. My father was out on the lake with a group of fishermen.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when my brother came in to get a look at the ghoulish scene, even though it meant having to see me. To be honest, I wouldn’t have been able to resist it either.
“What happened to the guy?” Tyler asked. “It’s one thing to stiff him for doing a bad job, but this is taking it too far.”
“Good one,” Sheriff Grady said before looking around to see who was doing the talking. When he realized it was Tyler, he narrowed his eyes and dropped his arms. “Oh, it’s you. I don’t suppose you had anything to do with this, did you?”
“Who, me?” Tyler waved him off. “I just came in to get a look at the joker who froze to death.”
“He’s a clown, not a joker,” I said without thinking. Those were the first words I’d spoken to my brother in ten years.
Tyler glanced at me as though I were a stranger and left.
“Don’t leave town, Tyler, until we get this all sorted out,” Grady grumbled.
It was getting cold next to the freezer, so I backed away. “What’s there to sort out? The guy was drunk, passed out in the freezer, and died.” Even as the words came out of my mouth, I realized how absurd they sounded. That’s when it first occurred to me that this could have been foul play.
“Maybe it happened that way, maybe it didn’t. We’ll have to see.” The sheriff told whoever was on the other end of the radio to get the crime scene team down here pronto. He looked around the kitchen. “Who’s in charge here? I’m going to need the names of everyone who has been in or around this building today.”
“Not it.” I held up my hands. “I was just here taking pictures.”
“But this is your place, right?”
“It’s my parents’ place.”
“Same thing. It’s all in the family.”
Before I could protest, Gwen swept in and handed Grady her business card. “Here’s where you can get in touch with me, Sheriff. I’ll be happy to provide you with any information you need. But now, my assistant and I are leaving. We have another party this evening, and we’ll be late if we don’t leave right now.”
Grady jammed the card in his pocket. “Hold on there, lady. I ain’t done questioning you.”
“Call my lawyer,” she said over her shoulder and flew out the door.
The normally in-charge sheriff seemed caught off guard. Maybe I should take a lesson from Gwen and be tougher in dealing with him. I turned to leave the kitchen.
“Where are you going, Ms. Fairmont?” he asked. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“Call my—”
Oops. I didn’t have a lawyer. Not in Cascada anyway. I tried to sound forceful like Gwen, but it came out more whiny. “Okay, but do you mind getting him out of there? I’ve got a couple of gallons of ice cream melting here.”
“Ice cream?” Grady sneered at me. “Who eats ice cream in the winter?”
* * *
THE GREAT ROOM OF THE Waterfall Lodge was warm and inviting, even on this cold and unfortunate occasion. Anything not nailed down was covered in wood, leather, or fur. An old canoe hung from the high ceiling right next to the taxidermy deer and elk. A large-mouth bass caught back in the day by my dad’s uncle adorned the fireplace. I remember thinking as a child that the big fish might one day fall into the fire and we’d have to eat it. The stone fireplace provided heat for guests as they gathered around the large farmhouse table for breakfast.
After assuring my mother I would handle things, Myra and I sat with the sheriff to answer his questions.
“So, I’ve got the basics.” Grady pulled out his notepad. “The Harpers were throwing a kid’s birthday party and Gwen Palmer was in charge. The victim, Grover Ward, was hired as a clown. Various other people were there as guests or to help out. Is that right?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m sure Gwen can provide you a list with all the names.”
He nodded. “And you say you were here taking pictures?”
“That’s right.” I got up and stoked the fire. The wood crackled like a Fourth of July sparkler.
“What about you?” He pointed his pen at Myra. “What’s your role in all this?”
“I’m the head housekeeper here at the lodge. My role is nothing.” Her voice quivered as she spoke.
“What do you mean? Were you a guest at the party? You’re a little old to attend a kid’s birthday party.”
Classic Grady. Should we file a police harassment suit now or wait for more gems to fly out of his mouth? “Today was Myra’s day off,” I explained. “But Gwen hired her to help with the cleanup. That’s why she was there.”
“I see. So, you didn’t come until the party was over.”
“No, not exactly. I was here the whole time helping Freddy.”
“Who’s Freddy?”
“My boyfriend.”
“And why did Freddy need your help?”
She twisted her hands nervously. “Because some of his hoofers get out of line if they don’t get enough attention.”
Grady scratched his head. “I thought you said this was a kid’s party. Why would he bring hookers?”
“I said hoofers. You know, horses.”
No wonder they say you should never talk to the authorities without an attorney. We were getting nowhere fast. I held out the fireplace poker. “Look, Freddy brought horses for the kids to ride on the trail. Myra helped him out. When the party was over, she and I went to put the leftover ice cream in the freezer, and that’s when we found Mr. Squishy—I mean, Grover, the clown.”
“So why was he in the freezer?”
“Beats me. He showed up drunk. Maybe he thought it was a closet and passed out.” I set the poker back in the stand.
Grady cocked his head at Myra. “Was it locked when you found him?”
I glanced at Myra, who looked as frozen as Grover. When she didn’t answer, I said, “Yes. Myra had locked the freezer earlier because of all the kids around. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. That’s the kind of person she is. Kind and thoughtful.”
What was I doing? Now I sounded like an accomplice trying to give her a character reference.
Grady stared Myra down. “Why would you lock the door with a guy inside?”
Myra jumped up. “I didn’t know he was in there! I didn’t look inside first.”
Grady thought for a long moment. “Did you have some kind of beef with this Squishy?”
“No! I never even met him before today.” Myra’s face reddened and tears welled in her eyes.
The front door of the lodge opened, and a deputy stuck his head inside. “Hey, chief, we found a liquor flask on the floor of the freezer. Might have been the clown’s.”
Grady turned to me. “Do you normally keep a flask in the walk-in freezer here at the lodge?” Sarcasm dripped from his question.
“Like I said, this is my parents’ resort, not mine. But no, I can’t imagine that flask was already in there.”
“Bag it for evidence,” he yelled to the officer and stood up. “That’s all the questions I have for now.” He glared at Myra. “You’re free to go, just don’t leave town. As for you, Ms. Fairmont, be sure to tell your brother I’ll be c
ontacting him.”
I stood up and stamped my foot as I’d seen the birthday girl do a few hours earlier. “What does Tyler have to do with this?”
Grady adjusted his oversized Stetson. “With his record and a crime so close to home, I just want to make sure he didn’t have his finger in this pie.”
“Cake, not pie.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He grumbled as he headed to the door. “This is the last thing I need now with this movie company in town. I’m already short-handed with having to send security up to the falls.”
“Too bad people couldn’t be more considerate of your schedule before they get themselves killed.” I flashed him a big, fake smile as he left.
Just as the sheriff walked out, a woman walked in. She was clad in white fur, from her Russian-style hat to her stiletto boots. “Be careful with those bags,” she instructed the man following her with an armload of luggage. At first glance, the bags looked like Louis Vuitton. Then I noticed the logo was an L and W. Must have been a knockoff by his cousin, Louis Wuitton.
The woman pulled off her fur gloves and pounded repeatedly on the bell on the front desk.
She was probably with those movie people. No one who regularly stayed in the mountains would dress like that. By the looks of her, this wasn’t exactly a top-rated film company.
Mother appeared and went into hostess mode. Hopefully, she had enough reservations booked to hold the lodge over for a while. An accident or a murder or whatever had happened on the premises could be really bad for business. I crossed my fingers that it would all get resolved quietly and without a lot of fanfare.
My cell phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Hi, I’m a reporter with the Albuquerque Observer. I’m doing a story about the frozen clown and wanted to see if I could ask you a few questions...”
Chapter 4
Cricket, my new cat, greeted me when I got back home. She rubbed against my legs until I finally picked her up. We sat on the sofa while I told her about the clown. She seemed uninterested.
The ash-gray cat was a stray who adopted me the second day I moved into the house left to me by Gran. According to a local psychic, Cricket may occasionally be channeling the spirit of my dead grandmother. All I know is that she had a way of making me feel and think things that Gran would have wanted me to feel or think. And she nagged me the way Gran used to nag my grandfather.
In case you are wondering, Cricket doesn’t actually talk “people” to me, but she definitely lets me know what she’s thinking. If you have a pet, you probably understand.
The day’s catastrophe had left me physically and emotionally exhausted. Why had I agreed to go to the movies with Nancy? Oh yeah. It was Saturday night, we were both single, and I was celebrating the first birthday party gig I’d gotten since I opened my new photography business. Yippee.
I took a quick shower to wash off the popcorn and sugar smell and got ready to go out. I had turned off the ringer of my phone after I hung up on the reporter, so I checked to see if Nancy or anyone I knew had called. It seemed safe to turn the ringer back on. Hopefully, the reporter had found something more newsworthy to cover.
Anyway, how could news of Squishy’s demise have spread so quickly? Someone must have posted something on social media. I did a quick search, and sure enough, there was a brief story about a clown who was found frozen to death at a child’s birthday party in Cascada. The article didn’t list any names nor did it mention the Waterfall Lodge. Relieved, I poured myself a half a glass of wine and sat back down with Cricket. I must have dozed off, because I nearly jumped out of my skin when Nancy rang the bell.
She looked gorgeous, as always, with her flowing chestnut hair and skinny jeans tucked into her boots.
It didn’t seem fair. “Why isn’t spin class working as well for me as it is for you?”
“Maybe because I don’t cheat and turn down the resistance on the machine when you think nobody’s looking. You’re not fooling anyone, not even Sherry Grady.”
“Who are you? The exercise police? I suppose that means you don’t want a glass of wine.”
Nancy crooked her eyebrows. “Are you kidding? That’s the whole reason I go to spin class in the first place. That and the pastries at Karol’s Kafé.”
“Don’t even mention sugar to me. After being around all that cotton candy, chocolate, cake, and ice cream today, I think I got a cavity.”
“Uh-oh. How much did you eat?”
“None, believe it or not. I was waiting until after the party to gorge myself. But by then I’d lost my appetite. Dead bodies will do that to you.”
Nancy sat across from me in a club chair and was immediately joined by Cricket. “What? I thought you were at a birthday party, not a funeral.”
I refilled my glass and gave her one. “Have you been under a rock all day? I thought the Cascada gossip chain would have gotten to you by now.”
“I was showing cabins to a couple in the upper canyon all afternoon. Spotty cell service.”
“Well, hold on to your hat, sista, because you’re never going to believe this.” As a natural-born storyteller, I proceeded to give her everything in detail, starting with the clown showing up drunk all the way to Sheriff Grady’s warning about my brother.
Nancy hung on every juicy detail. “And when am I going to finally get to meet this brother of yours? I mean, I’ve seen him around town, but we’ve never met.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, although we did exchange a few unpleasantries. Anyway, what do you think of Squishy’s death?”
“It had to be murder, right?” Nancy swallowed down the last of her wine and held up her glass for more. “I mean, how do you accidently freeze to death? Even if he were locked in there inadvertently, you would think someone would have heard him banging on the door.”
“Not necessarily.” I poured the last of the bottle into her glass. “Between the loud music and the screaming kids, it was pretty noisy in there. The kitchen is off the main room.”
“Do you think the housekeeper, Myra, is going to be charged with accidental homicide or something?”
“No!” I slammed down my glass, spilling a few drops on the coffee table. “Of course not. Why would she?”
“Because she was the one who locked him in there. You said she admitted it.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. “I can’t imagine she’d be charged with anything. We don’t even know for sure that he was in there when she locked the freezer.”
Nancy shook her head. “But look at it from Sheriff Grady’s viewpoint. The clown gropes her, she lures him into the freezer to teach him a lesson, locks the door, and the next thing you know, bam! Frozen Squishy.”
My stomach did a flip. Surely Nancy was wrong. But Sheriff Grady was known for being quick on the draw. He might want to put a cap on this case and move on. The easy thing would be to declare it an accident and call it a day. But based on his attitude at the lodge, I didn’t see that happening.
“I’m determined to keep her out of this.” I chugged the last of my wine. “Now Sherry will have even more reason to torture me for making her husband actually do his job again. By the way, I ran into her last week at the market, and she so kindly suggested I get my upper lip waxed.”
“Once a nemesis, always a nemesis.” Nancy raised her glass in a mock toast.
“I’d like to wax something on her.”
She choked. “Gross!”
“You know what I mean.”
By the time we’d finished discussing the clown and the party, we had missed the movie start time. Neither of us really cared, so we decided to head to Porky’s Pizza instead. Anyway, it was more fun talking than watching other people on the big screen fall in love and live happily ever after.
PORKY, DESPITE HIS nickname, was a tall, thin man in his late fifties who had been a basketball star at Cascada High School back in the day. The walls of the pizza joint were covered in eve
ry Cascada souvenir imaginable, from sports pennants to postcards to photographs. A jukebox in the corner played only seventies music, despite customers’ requests to update it.
The Doobie Brothers belted out “China Grove” as we sipped our beer and waited for our order. The place filled up fast with both tourists and locals. Every time the door opened, I looked up to see who was coming in.
Nancy obviously noticed. “He’s not on a date. I swear. He’s at home working.”
“What? Who are you talking about?”
“Cut the bull, Wendy. I know you’re watching for Jake.”
“Jake who?” Of course, she was right. I was watching for her brother, Jake. We’d gone out as a threesome several times, but he had yet to ask me out on a solo date.
Nancy tapped her nails on the table to the beat of the music. “Look, you told him you weren’t interested in a relationship right now. He believed you. Jake’s not the aggressive type when it comes to girls. If you want me to, I can—”
“No. Don’t.” I held up my hand to stop her. My left hand, to be exact. I could almost imagine the two different engagement rings that had previously decorated my finger. David, the reason I moved back home, was already a distant memory. But Patrick, my first true love, still haunted me. I dropped my hand back into my lap, saying, “I’m not ready.”
Nancy tilted her head and offered a sympathetic smile.
I knew what was coming next and braced myself.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” She batted her thick dark lashes.
This is where I would normally have shaken my head and protested. I don’t know if it was the wine or the Doobie Brothers or the fact that Nancy felt more like the sister I’d never had than a friend, but I found myself wanting to open up to her. After all, I had talked to my brother for the first time that day, and I couldn’t get him off my mind. He and Mr. Squishy, that is.
“Okay. What do you know about my first fiancé, Patrick Murphy?”
Killer Shots Murder Mysteries - Books 1-3 Page 16