Cookies, Corpses & the Deadly Haunt

by Rachael Stapleton

  “I meant normal for you, you weirdo.”

  “Touché. I followed you.” She replied.

  “Hello, Eve.” Lucas interjected.

  “Hello, Lucas. How’s your honeymoon going? Killed anyone else lately?”

  Lucas frowned.

  “She’s still mad at you,” I clarified. He nodded. “Anyway, why have you followed me?”

  Before Eve could answer, the desk girl, Lea, interrupted, “Je m'excuse...but we’re completely booked at the moment... ” Lea clicked on her laptop but shook her head the whole time.

  “Booked?” I turned to Lucas. “I thought you were here to help them fill in the place, doesn’t sound like they’re having any trouble to me.”

  “If I may answer that for you, most of our cottages are under renovation at the moment, it does not leave much space.”

  Lucas nodded. “Yep, what she said.”

  Let me check some other nearby hotels for you. The weather network is calling for a storm so you won’t have much time.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I’m Eve Banter.” Eve said in a determined voice. “I called earlier. I’m planning to stay with my friends, anyway. Nice bird, by the way.”

  The girl frowned.

  “She likes your vest,” I interpreted. “And she is not staying with me, so please find her a room.”

  The girl winked at Eve and nodded.

  That didn’t look good. Just what was Eve up to now?

  “C’mon, ladies. Everyone is in the dining hall at this hour.” Lucas steered us through the lobby toward the back of the building. We stopped when we passed by the stairs to the upstairs loft.

  “Any idiot could do your job—I don’t know what your problem is!” a shrill voice announced from upstairs. “You must be a special kind of idiot.”

  Eve and I glanced at Lucas but he shrugged his shoulders. A young woman in a maid’s uniform peeked over the upstairs balcony wall and scrubbed at her eyes.

  “Are you okay, sweetpea?” Eve called up to her.

  She nodded and sniffed. “I’m fine, miss. Thank you.” Then she turned and disappeared back out of sight.

  Eve turned to me and then locked her eyes on Lucas. “Who in the blazes was yelling at that poor girl?” Eve demanded.

  “I’m not sure.” Lucas shook his head. “It could have been the owner, Justin.”

  “Well,” Eve huffed, “perhaps I should just go and give him a lesson in manners.”

  “Eve,” I said, grabbing her by the arm. “Don’t. Not that I disagree with you, but we can’t go off half-cocked.”

  “Why? It’s never stopped us before,” She challenged.

  Lucas grinned, and I punched him lightly in the arm. “We didn’t see who it was, for one thing. We didn’t hear the whole altercation. Not to mention, it’s not really our place or business to intervene in someone else’s business practices.”

  “You mean with regards to how some dumbass manages or rather abuses his staff,” Eve said, crossing her arms while she chided me.

  I rolled my eyes. “Exactly.”

  “Plus, I’m not exactly sure it was Justin.” Lucas said. “I mean it could have been, but it also could have been the handyman, Noel. Hell, it could have been one of the guests. There are some rooms up there.”

  “Well, let’s go ask her?” Eve said.

  “Later.” I replied. “We’re here to find a killer.”

  “I don’t know why,” Eve mumbled. “It’s always the husband.”

  “Ignore her,” I said to Lucas as we moved on.

  As Lucas and I opened the glass doors to the dining hall, the sound of Christmas carols and laughter reached us, along with the woody, sweet scent of tree sap. The room was spacious with high wood-beamed ceilings and large windows. One long harvest table dominated the room with at least thirty smaller tables scattered around it—all covered in plaid cloths and dotted with birch stick arrangements. In the corner, watching over the room was a large stately spruce covered in multi colored bulbs.

  At least twenty five people occupied the room and I quickly located the source of the laughter, a woman with an olive-skinned face smiling under a shiny mane of dark hair sprinkled with gray. She wore a thick red sweater and grey ski pants as if she had just come off the slopes. She was now whispering in the ear of a petite young girl who twisted her silky shoulder-length hair into a ponytail. The young girl was staring longingly at the teenage boy who sat at a different table by the windows, playing on his phone.

  The swinging doors to the kitchen opened, and a petite blonde woman in a green turtleneck and red holiday vest bore down on us, one arm clutching linen napkins, the other balancing a tray of steaming mugs.

  As I took in the room full of happy-go-lucky vacationers, it struck me as odd that one of these people could be a killer. Lucas brushed his fingers along my arm and my skin prickled into goose bumps. I looked up at him—or was the killer a stranger at all?

  Chapter Two

  _____________

  “ Bonjour! Joyeux Noël! I’m Marie-Angelique Tremblé. Welcome to Sleighs & Slopes Adventure Resort,” bubbled the woman musically. She smelled of rosemary and thyme and I guessed she was making a turkey in that back kitchen of hers. “Just a moment, please.”

  She walked to the table next to us where a rosy-cheeked couple wearing similar holiday sweaters sat with their two kids. “Here you go: one elf in the eggnog, one sleigh bell cider, and two candycane cocoas,” She said, setting the mugs on the red table cloth. The young boy leaned forward and licked his lips as Marie-Angelique slipped a candy cane into his mug.

  “Thank you Mrs. Tremblé. You make the bestest hot chocolate,” the kids said in unison. Marie-Angelique smiled and took the empty tray under her arm and placed a tin of warm gingerbread cookies at the table's center. “These cookies are on the house. I hope you and the children had fun at the reindeer games this week.”

  “Oh yes, did we ever,” the woman in the holiday sweater grinned.

  “I won Frosty’s Snowball Challenge!” The little girl hollered.

  “You did?”

  “And I won the Santa’s Sled Off!” The boy compared.

  “The kids have been begging us all day to stay longer so they can go tubing again, but I’m afraid with… well, you know…yesterday’s incident we just need to get going. Hopefully, we don’t get caught up in this snow storm.”

  Marie-Angelique frowned as she dropped the napkins on the table and tugged at the collar of her green turtleneck. “Of course, we’re so sorry that you’ve been forced to cut your holiday with us short. I hope you will return again next year, or possibly sooner.”

  “Sooner. Sooner.” The kids both chanted.

  “We’ll have the skating rink up and running for the next three months if you decide to come back.” She winked at the kids and walked around their table to where Lucas and I stood watching.

  As soon as she reached us, she set down her tray and clasped my hand in hers. “I’ll bet you’re Lucas’… err… other girl… you know… err… friend.” A tremor of uncertainty traveled across Marie-Angelique’s soft face. I sympathized.

  “Ex,” I corrected as I glanced at Lucas. He looked uncomfortable but said nothing.

  Just what were the rules of etiquette at a time like this?

  “Call me Penelope.”

  “Bienvenue, Penelope,” she said with a relieved rush of breath. She clasped my hand again. “I’m happy you’re here. Well, happy probably isn’t the right word considering the circumstances but you know what I mean. Is it hot in here?” She flapped the lapel of her sweater open and closed.

  A turtleneck plus a sweater vest, it’s no wonder she was hot.

  “Anyway, we fixed up a tree house for you—it’s on Candy Cane Lane—close to Lucas.”

  “Thank you. This is my friend, Eve.” I ground out the word friend through gritted teeth.

  “Ouch!” Eve jumped backwards. Then I felt something stab my leg.

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” said M
arie-Angelique, wringing her hands. She bent over and, mumbling or perhaps scolding in French, she picked up an immense tortoise-colored ball of fur. “Jolly Ginger, she just loves black,” she admonished. “That’s why we had to put the plaid blanket over the leather couch in the common area; she kept poking holes in it with her claws. I hope you’re not fond of those pants.”

  Eve and I were both wearing black. I looked down at the tights I was wearing. “It’s more the legs underneath that I’m attached too.”

  Marie-Angelique chortled. “Oh, goodness, I like you so much better already.”

  “Better already? You didn’t like me before?” I teased. I couldn’t help myself. Sarcasm was a drug, and I was an addict.

  “What? Oh, you are teasing me.”

  From the safety of Marie-Angelique’s arms, Jolly Ginger looked anything but jolly as she glared at me, practically sharpening her claws.

  “This one here is my little Buddha baby.” She ended her sentence by burying her face in Jolly Ginger’s fur.

  “I have tried to keep her out of the main dining hall, but then she pees on the carpet and bites at the doors everywhere else—”

  “So aptly named, she sounds like a real pleasure,” said Eve. When Marie-Angelique didn’t smile, Lucas cleared his throat.

  “Penelope,” Marie-Angelique whispered again. I looked into her eyes and saw a sudden fear materialize. She moved us away from the table and lowered her voice. “Lucas says you might be able to find the kil—ah… that is… figure out who murd—oh dear, this isn’t coming out right.”

  I turned and glared at Lucas. What had he told her about me? He quickly averted his eyes.

  Marie-Angelique saw the exchange. “I just want you to know that we will do whatever we can to assist you in solving the mystery. This has really put a damper on this year’s festivities. Several families are now planning to leave early. Oh, that sounds callous, does it not? A woman lost her life…anyway, I’ve been remiss. I have not even offered you refreshments. Lunch is fini, but if you are hungry, it is no problem. Today’s special was pork shoulder in a sesame marinade with lemon mayo, sliced carrots, and Lebanese cucumbers on a brioche bun. We also have lattes, mochas, or tea, a wide selection of specialty drinks and we have fresh baked cookies.”

  “Thank you, Marie-Angelique. The coffee sounds tempting, but...”

  Lucas and Eve both spoke at the same time, “Actually, I wouldn’t mind a coffee.”

  “And some cookies, if it’s not too much trouble.” Lucas added.

  “It’s no trouble at all.” Marie-Angelique turned back to me, “Lucas is our special guest—we were hoping to impress him this week but I’m afraid things have taken a rather unfortunate turn.”

  I nodded. Things had definitely taken an unfortunate turn, especially for Holly. “Well then, I guess I’ll have what he’s having.”

  The three of us took a seat, and I turned to Eve, “So, what in the jingle bells are you doing here?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” She said out of the side of her mouth.

  Marie-Angelique returned a moment later with coffee, cookies and all the trimmings. She flipped the coffee cups over and made conversation as she poured. “So, Penelope, Lucas mentioned that you are not quite as fond of the elements as he.”

  I laughed. “No, I doubt there is anyone who is as fond of dangling from cliffs and navigating deadly rapids as our boy, Lucas. He’s one with nature and I am his polar opposite. I enjoy Mother Nature’s beauty, but that’s about it.”

  “Well, you know what they say about opposites.” She chirped.

  “Yes, I do and it’s a load of crap.”

  Marie-Angelique chuckled. “My, my Lucas, you were correct about her—quite the spitfire.” She turned back to me. “Anyway, my dear, we’ve put you in our most lavish tree house. We would have put you in a cabin but the finished ones are all full at the moment and sadly, the rest are still under renovation. We have fallen behind schedule,” she said, gently setting the cat down on a chair with a fond pat.

  I smiled and nodded. I wasn’t sure what a lavish tree house entailed but for Lucas’ sake I hoped I wasn’t sleeping on branches—otherwise Lucas would be getting said branch up the side of the head.

  “Would you like to meet some of the others?” she added quickly, closing the subject of accommodations.

  I shrugged just as Eve stood and walked away.

  “The two dames that walked in ahead of you earlier have lived here in Mont-Tremblant forever, Denise Beausoleil and Gloria Simard,” she pointed out cheerfully to the women on the far side of the room. “Miss Beausoleil was a nurse for the old doctor in town. Miss Simard used to be a librarian. They live next door to us here but they’ve rented our three room cottage this week, for some reason. Oh, look at that, it seems your friend must know them.”

  “Yes, it would seem that way.” Either that or she was just brazenly making connections. Neither would surprise me.

  “Felix, mon ange, qu'est-ce que tu fais déjà à la maison?” she called to the teenager who sat by the window on his phone. He was a handsome boy. His features were even, with just a touch of acne, under dark shaggy hair. Medium height and slender in his jeans and long-sleeved shirt. “Les écoles ne sont pas encore finies.”

  He replied back in French, his expression no friendlier than the leg poking mini-tiger.

  “Teenagers,” Marie-Angelique said with a forced laugh. “He should not be home from school yet.” She turned back to her son, “Felix, come say hello to Penelope.”

  Felix rose from his seat slowly. The snowboarder’s goggles and boots gave me the distinct impression that he’d been on the slopes instead of in class, but, hey, maybe Marie-Angelique wasn’t quite the detective I was. He kept his eyes lowered sullenly as he walked across the room.

  He extended his hand to shake mine without making eye contact. “Salut,” he muttered with a brief shake. Then, “gotta go carve.” He walked toward the glass doors.

  “Attendez,” said Marie-Angelique. Felix stopped in his tracks. “As long as you are here, you might help me finish up the lunch dishes.”

  Felix rolled his eyes and mumbled something in French but complied. He picked up some of the dirty dishes from the empty tables and skulked to the other end of the room.

  Marie-Angelique sighed. “He is a good kid, honest.”

  A tapping sound interrupted my thought. A man with a cane had appeared. I focused my eyes on his bearded face, avoiding looking at his leg. His sea-blue eyes looked made for laughter but he didn’t look very happy. He wasn’t an old man and so I privately wondered what had caused him to require a cane.

  The man took his cane in one hand and balanced himself. “Mateo Fierro,” he said holding out his hand, “but you can call me Matt.”

  “Penelope,” I replied extending my own. His hand was calloused, and he had a strong grip. In fact, his whole upper body looked solid under the flannel shirt.

  His cane clicked on the hardwood as he stepped backwards. “Good meeting you,” he said and maneuvered past us and out the glass doors.

  “Sorry the place is such a mess. We’ve fixed up a bunch of the cabins but we’re not quite done with all of the renovations yet,” Marie-Angelique continued. Her eyes were bright now, flickering with plans. “Noel knows all about that stuff so I leave it up to him.”

  “Is Noel your husband?” I asked, playing dumb.

  Marie-Angelique’s face flushed. She looked around the room as if I’d said something taboo. “Oh, no. Justin is my husband. Noel works for us. We have a lot of plans for the place. Like the…” The brightness faded from Marie-Angelique’s eyes. “That is, if everything is cleared up. I’m sure you understand an unsolved murder could kill our business.”

  Yes, or bring a whole new disturbed crowd, I thought to myself.

  “Oh, geeze. Look at the time. It’s two-thirty,” she said. “Lucas, introduce Penelope to Dr. Belle, I just need to stick the turkey in the oven.” With that, she hurried back through t
he kitchen doors and disappeared.

  Lucas turned and introduced the salt-and-pepper-haired woman who’d just walked over as Dr. Amélie Belle. Amélie immediately engulfed me in a hearty handshake using both hands. Then she took me by the shoulders and surveyed my face as if it were a crystal ball. She’d removed her snow pants, revealing a long wool sweater over thick burgundy tights. Clearly, she knew about the feisty cat and its fetish for black.

  She gave me another quick hug and stepped back. I felt my face flushing. This was the kind of welcome I usually got from Lucas’ mom.

  “You are just as Lucas described,” she added. Great. Didn’t any of these people find it odd that he was talking about me… I mean, considering his wife was just killed and he’s the murder suspect? “Lucas said you were a police officer, but you’re on leave. Are you planning to go back to the force?”

  “She’s like Dick Tracy.” Eve said, returning to my side with a wink.

  “No. I’m not.” I growled. “I’m a journalist. I was freelancing for a travel magazine but I’m now mostly working for my father.”

  “He runs Private Incorporated which is made up of a private investigation service and—most recently—a newspaper.” Eve chimed in.

  “Really?”

  “Yep, I’m her assistant.” Eve went on. She was really in her element now. Never give Eve an attentive audience. “The Bohemian Private Ink is kind of like the Daily Planet. You know, Superman’s newspaper.”

  “No, it’s not like that at all.” I shook my head. “It’s tiny and there are only three of us and we mostly report on the town’s social happenings. Eve lives in a fantasy world. Please, don’t mind her.”

  “Oh really,” Eve challenged. “What about the Halloween murder scandal and the million-dollar nickel case? Penny single handedly caught a murderer and solved a 50-year-old cold case.”

  “I did not do that alone.” I harrumphed.

  “That’s true. I did save you from a gunshot wound and I found the make-out location for you. Well, Mabel did.”

  “Who is Mabel?” asked Amélie.

  “She’s part of my spy network.”