A Room with a Roux
Page 14
The tide was all the way in, so Bentley and I didn’t have far to go to reach the water’s edge. Once there, we headed east, Bentley switching between galloping along and stopping to sniff interesting smells. Every so often, I hopped up onto one of the logs that had been washed up on shore, balancing my way along it before jumping down again.
My eyes watered in the cold wind, and I was glad I’d remembered to wear a hat and gloves, but I had no desire to turn back and head home. Bentley and I walked almost all the way out to the eastern end of the cove. We remained there for a while as I tossed a stick to Bentley, making sure not to throw it into the water. He’d splashed in the shallows a couple of times, but even he seemed to find the water too cold.
Eventually, we headed back toward home, in no hurry. When we passed by the yellow and white Victorian where Patricia lived with her husband and Sienna, I slowed my steps. Rob Mazzoli was leaving the B&B through the back door, Patricia with him. They exchanged a few words that I couldn’t hear, and then Patricia stepped back inside and shut the french doors. Rob jogged down the steps from the porch and strode across the yard toward the beach.
Rob was fairly new to Wildwood Cove, having moved here less than a year ago. He’d worked for a newspaper in Seattle until he’d decided he wanted a slower pace of life somewhere he could enjoy plenty of outdoor activities. Now he was the lead reporter for the local paper, the Wildwood Cove Weekly.
“Hey, Marley,” he greeted when he saw me. “How’s it going?”
“Things are good,” I said. “How about you?”
Rob patted Bentley when the dog trotted up to greet him. “I can’t complain, especially since I’ve got a new story to write.”
“Something about the B&B?” I asked, wondering if that was why he’d paid Patricia a visit.
“A guest.”
“Lily Spitz, the writer?” I figured that was a good guess, even though I didn’t know anything about the other B&B guests—if there were any others at the moment.
“You know about her?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “Right. Of course you do. You were both up at Holly Lodge when Kevin Manning was killed. Speaking of which…” He produced his phone from his pocket. “I was hoping to ask you a few questions about that. We reported the murder in this week’s paper, and I’m working on a follow-up article for next week. I know you and Brett found the body,” he continued, “so I was planning to pay you a visit anyway.”
“Ask away,” I said.
Although I wasn’t eager to relive the details of finding Kevin’s body, I wanted to cooperate with Rob. He was often a good source of information and I’d always known him to be respectful when interviewing me or any other locals.
He asked me several standard questions, and I answered as best I could while he recorded the conversation on his phone.
None of his questions took me by surprise until he asked, “Do you know of any reason why someone would target both Kevin Manning and Lily Spitz?”
“What?” I asked, shocked. “Is Lily okay?”
“She’s fine. A little shaken up, maybe. That’s the new story I’m working on. She received a threatening letter.”
“From Kevin’s killer?” I still hadn’t recovered from my shock, although I was relieved to know that Lily hadn’t been harmed.
“That hasn’t been confirmed,” Rob said. “But it seems likely.”
“When did she receive the letter and what did it say?” I wasn’t sure if he’d tell me, but I was glad when he did.
“She found it in her bag today after doing some shopping here in town. I guess you’d call it a note rather than a letter. All it said was, ‘you’re next.’”
I shivered, and not because of the cold wind. “That’s scary.” I thought over his words again. “But that really muddies the waters. I can think of a few people who might have had something against Kevin, but Kevin and Lily?”
“I know. It complicates things,” Rob agreed. “That’s why I was hoping you might have some insights.”
“I wish I did. But as far as I know, the only person at the lodge who knew both Kevin and Lily before last week was Ambrose.”
“That’s what Lily said, and she was adamant that Ambrose would never hurt anyone, least of all her.”
“They do seem to be in love with each other,” I said.
“There’s got to be another explanation then.” Rob checked the time on his phone. “But for now, I’ve got to put together a story with what I do know. Good talking to you, Marley.”
“You too,” I said as he set off along the beach toward downtown Wildwood Cove.
I stayed put for a moment, wondering if I should head up to the B&B to talk with Lily and Patricia. Bentley sniffed around the base of a log while I considered my next move. In the end, I decided to head home. I definitely wanted to talk to Lily about the threatening note, but it would be better to go by the B&B when I didn’t have Bentley with me, especially since his paws were currently covered with wet sand.
I let Bentley explore the interesting smells for another minute or two, and then we made our way home. I rinsed and dried Bentley’s sandy paws before letting him into the house. Living on the beach meant it was inevitable that some sand would get tracked indoors, but I tried my best to keep it to a minimum. That wasn’t always an easy task with a dog in the family.
Flapjack had remained on the porch the whole time we were gone, and he was more than happy to get back inside. Although he enjoyed getting some outdoor time each day, he wasn’t a fan of cold weather.
I fed the animals their dinners and they were licking their dishes clean when Brett arrived home from work. He took a quick shower, and then we were off to the Festival of Trees.
It wasn’t easy to find a parking spot in the center of town. We had to circle the block before we were able to nab a free space not too far down the street from the seniors’ center. I figured the tree festival had drawn a lot of people into town that evening, but the light up was also happening that night. No doubt many people had decided to take in both events.
All of the hours that Patricia and the other volunteers had put into the festival had clearly paid off. With all the decorations now up, the twinkle lights on, and Christmas music playing softly in the background, there was a magical quality to the transformed seniors’ center. It was easy to pretend that we were outdoors in a magical forest, except for the fact that it was nice and warm.
Several other people wandered the pathways, admiring the trees, but the room wasn’t so crowded that we couldn’t enjoy ourselves.
Brett and I held hands as we strolled through the room, taking time to appreciate each and every tree.
“I’m definitely voting for this one,” Brett said when we stopped in front of The Flip Side’s tree. “It’s the best by far.”
I smiled at him. “I think you’re biased, but I won’t stop you from voting.”
“I might be biased, but I’ve also got good taste.” He kissed me. “After all, I married you.”
“Biased, but charming,” I said, giving him a kiss in return.
“Hey, is this your tree, Marley?”
Brett and I turned around to find Chloe approaching us. Kyle was with her, his hand holding hers. They looked cute together, something I intended to tell Chloe the next time we were alone.
Brett and Kyle greeted each other as if nothing had changed. Even though Brett could get protective of Chloe now and then, I knew he didn’t have a problem with her dating Kyle. In fact, he’d admitted to me just before we’d gone to sleep the night before that he was glad she was seeing someone we knew was a good guy.
“This is The Flip Side’s tree,” I confirmed.
“It’s fantastic! The ornaments we made look super cute.” Chloe fingered one of the glass sea creatures. “And these are beautiful.”
“They were a good find,” I said, plea
sed she liked the finished tree.
“You can count on my vote,” she promised.
“I hear the two of you were in the middle of everything that happened up at Holly Lodge,” Kyle said to me and Brett after I’d thanked Chloe.
“It wasn’t quite the vacation we’d planned,” Brett said. “We feel terrible for Kevin’s family.”
“Have you heard anything about the murder investigation?” I asked Kyle.
Kyle was a deputy here in Clallam County, but I figured he probably had an idea of what was going on in the other counties on the peninsula.
“I know there haven’t been any arrests yet,” Kyle said, “but these things take time.”
“They’re looking into several possible suspects,” Chloe added, “but Kyle won’t tell me who their prime suspect is.” She tried to frown at him but didn’t do a very good job of it.
Kyle grinned at her, and I could see in his eyes how much he liked Chloe.
“I don’t know that they have one yet,” he said.
“It sounds like Rita had the most to gain,” Chloe said, keeping her voice low so no one would overhear. “But for Zahra’s sake, I hope she had nothing to do with it.” She fixed her gaze on me. “Any closer to figuring out whodunit, Marley?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said with feigned innocence. “I’m not one to speculate about murder investigations.”
Brett and Kyle both laughed at that.
I jabbed an elbow into Brett’s ribs. “You’re not supposed to laugh that hard.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t look very sorry as he slid an arm around my waist. “But you’ll never fool anyone in this town.”
“I know.” I leaned into him. “But I really don’t have a clue who the killer is.”
“Sheriff Walczyk and her deputies will figure it out.” There was only the slightest stern edge to Kyle’s voice.
I wanted to ask him if he’d heard about the threatening note Lily had received, but we were all distracted by two boys and a little girl who barreled past us, heading for Santa’s workshop in the next room.
The next second, an older couple caught Kyle’s attention and drew him into a conversation with them.
Brett and I said goodbye to Chloe and continued on our circuit of the room. Once we’d checked out every single tree, Brett purchased some tickets from Sienna, who was dressed as an elf, and then we made our way around the room again as he chose which giveaways to enter. After he’d slipped all his tickets into giveaway boxes, he cast his vote for his favorite tree, making no secret of what he was writing on his ballot.
People were still arriving at the seniors’ center, even though the festival would be shutting down for the night in another hour. Brett and I made our way through the growing crowd and out onto the street, where brisk, frosty air greeted us. We walked hand-in-hand over to Main Street, our breath forming white clouds in the night air. The crowds were even bigger in this part of town. Dozens of people had gathered on the sidewalks, waiting for the moment when all the lights on the streetlamps and trees would get switched on.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that we hadn’t yet eaten dinner. We planned to head over to the local pizza parlor after the light up, but to tide us over we bought cups of hot chocolate from a vendor on the street corner.
We waved at familiar faces and greeted friends and neighbors, but soon a hush fell over the crowd and Wildwood Cove’s mayor led the countdown.
“Three, two, one!” everyone in the crowd counted together.
Then the lights flicked on and the street transformed from ordinary to beautiful.
Despite all that had happened at Holly Lodge the week before, in that moment I was filled with nothing but happiness and holiday spirit.
Chapter Seventeen
I left the pancake house shortly after closing the next day, after taking a moment to admire the Christmas tree in the corner. Brett had brought it over first thing in the morning and had helped me decorate it before The Flip Side opened. We’d had to decorate quickly, but I thought we’d still done a good job.
Lonny and Hope’s open house was taking place that afternoon and evening, and Brett and I didn’t want to miss it. Brett had the day off and had already taken Bentley for a long walk, so I didn’t have to worry about that when I got home. Instead, I changed into a skirt and sweater and tidied up my hair. Brett was looking handsome in a dark blue suit and a brighter blue tie that matched the color of his eyes. It amazed me how he could still give me butterflies.
When we drove up the long driveway toward the Wildwood Inn, I admired the scenery. The inn was housed in a white Victorian mansion with covered porches and bay windows. Hope had grown up there, and she and Lonny had recently purchased the property from Hope’s aunt. Brett had worked on the gardens back in the spring, getting them ready for the inn’s grand opening and garden party. The gardens weren’t in bloom at the moment, but the setting was still gorgeous, with the lawn stretching back to the woods.
Some of the daylight had already faded from the sky and the mansion’s windows glowed with light. Several cars were parked next to the inn and I didn’t doubt that more people would arrive over the next couple of hours. Lonny and Hope had many good friends in Wildwood Cove, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d been looking forward to their holiday open house.
I admired the Victorian again after we climbed out of the truck and followed the path to the front steps. White lights outlined the windows and had been wrapped around the porch railing. A flocked pine wreath adorned the front door and small flames flickered inside candleholders made of ice that decorated the small tables on the porch.
Brett and I greeted Lonny and Hope in the spacious foyer. We handed over the box of chocolates we’d brought as a gift, and Lonny took our coats while Hope walked with us to the dining room, situated to the left of the foyer. The chairs had been removed from beneath the long dining table, which held an impressive spread of finger foods.
I waved to Marielle, who owned the local bakery. She looked festive in a red dress with holly earrings as she added a mini quiche to her plate. A middle-aged man and woman were also in the dining room.
“Hope, this is incredible,” I said. “Did you make all the food?”
“Most of it. I bought the sausage rolls, and the macarons and the butter tarts are courtesy of Marielle.”
Marielle smiled and tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “Make sure you try Hope’s artichoke dip,” she said to me and Brett. “It’s divine.”
The front door opened, heralding the arrival of more guests. Hope excused herself and went to greet them.
I hadn’t realized I was hungry until I took in the sight of all the tempting food. Brett and I each took a small plate from the stack at one end of the table. Then we slowly made our way around it, adding things to our plates here and there while we chatted with Marielle.
Once we had our plates filled, we drifted across the foyer to the parlor. I dipped a cracker in the scoop of artichoke dip I’d put on my plate and took a bite.
“Wow. This dip really is amazing.” I swiped another cracker through it.
“I need to get the recipe from Hope,” Marielle said. “I’m crossing my fingers that it’s not a family secret.”
“I’d like the recipe too.” I’d already finished most of the dip on my plate and I knew I’d be heading back for seconds before long.
“Check out that tree,” Brett said.
Now that we were in the parlor, we could see a large Christmas tree standing in one corner. It had to be at least ten feet tall, and it almost reached the high ceiling. It was decked out in vintage Christmas ornaments and red and green lights.
“I love it,” I said, impressed. “Hope,” I called, grabbing her attention as she came into the room. “You should have entered a tree in the festival. This one is gorgeous.”
“I can understand that,” I said, thinking of all the work she must have done to get ready for this party while also looking after the guests staying at the inn.
She and Lonny had opened the place for business less than a year ago, but the inn had already proven popular with tourists, even during the quieter seasons.
Brett and I wandered around, chatting with people we knew as we munched on our finger foods, all of which were delicious. The guests were spread out over three rooms—the dining room, the front parlor, and the library. Leigh was there with her husband, Greg, having left their three daughters in the care of their grandmother, and I made sure to say hello to them.
After I’d finished all the food on my plate, I left Brett chatting with someone he knew through his work with Pedro and returned to the dining room. I was hoping to get more of the artichoke dip and to sample a few other goodies I hadn’t yet tried. There were about half a dozen people in the dining room now, mostly standing and chatting around the edges of the room.
One man was at the table, adding food to his plate.
“Hi, Mr. Teeves,” I said as I joined him by the table. “How are you doing?”
Gerald Teeves lived next door to me, with his teenage son, Logan. We weren’t exactly friends, but we’d become more neighborly with each other over time.
“Can’t complain,” he said as he added two mini sausage rolls to his plate. “How’s business at the pancake house?”