Cookies in the Cottage

by Kathi Daley

  “It makes sense that the placement of the body was an intentional diversion. Otherwise, why hide the body there?”

  “The ground is frozen, so I suppose burying him wouldn’t be an option,” Sierra pointed out.

  “Yeah, but why stick him in the shed? Why not dump him in the forest or even in the ocean? Why not leave the body in town somewhere? Why would someone like Baxter kill the man and then leave him in the exact location that would bring attention to his involvement with the guy?”

  “Yeah, it does seem counterproductive to have done things that way.” She wrapped her hands around her mug. “I guess all we can do at this point is hope that Colt figures out what went down when he gets back. In the meantime, I’m trying not to obsess over the whole thing. This may end up being my one and only Christmas in Holiday Bay, and I plan to make the most of it.”

  “How is that going?” My conversation with Sage had a positive feel to it, but that didn’t mean she’d changed her mind about selling.

  “Good, actually,” Sierra answered. “Shelby loves it here. She really wants to keep the house. She even mentioned making a permanent move to the area so that she can act as the caregiver for the estate should we decide to keep it. Personally, after having lived in the house for a few weeks and having had the chance to go through some of the things Henri left behind, I’m of the mind to keep the house as well. At least for a while. It is true that I will be heading to Belgium in the fall of next year, but I’ll have summers and Christmases off even during my time overseas, so if we had the house, I’d have a place to return to.”

  “And Sage?” I asked, knowing that she’d been the one who most wanted to sell.

  “Sage came to Holiday Bay for one reason only, and that was to fulfill her part of the bargain we made when we settled the will. According to that bargain, if Sage still wants to sell by the time our shared holiday is over, then I’m supposed to side with her. Shelby knows this and is resigned to doing whatever Sage decides, although, as I said, if we could figure out a way to do so, I think Shelby and I would both like to keep the house. To be honest, I figured that despite what Shelby and I wanted, this was going to be the one and only Christmas we’d have together, but then last night, Sage received a call from a man named Garret Hemingway. Apparently, Mr. Hemingway is interested in partnering with Sage on a line of outerwear. His idea is to base his operation somewhere in New England. He lives in Vermont and initially thought about having his home base there, but land in Maine is more reasonably priced, and he likes the wilderness feel of the state. Anyway, this whole thing is far from a done deal, but Sage, who has been working on an outerwear line, is very interested in hearing what the man has to say. Shelby and I are hoping that if the two can work out a deal, Sage will see the benefit of maintaining a presence in Maine in addition to her life in California, and Shelby and I will be able to make her see that it would be wise to keep the house.”

  “It does sound like a wonderful opportunity for Sage, and it could help you and Shelby to be able to keep the house as well. Sage had one of the jackets she designed on when we went sledding. It was really cute. I know I’d be interested in buying one if they were mass-produced.”

  “She has a whole line of similar items. I think she had skiwear in mind when she developed the line, but the clothes can be generalized for any outdoor sport or pastime. I really don’t know all the details, but I guess this guy owns a chain of stores specializing in outdoor products located in Minnesota, so he has experience doing what he wants to do. His stores in Minnesota are geared toward hunting, fishing, and that sort of thing, but his plan for the stores he hopes to open in New England will have more of an upper-class flare.”

  “Fingers crossed that it all works out.” I held up my hand and crossed my fingers.

  “Thanks. If Sage willingly decides that keeping the house will benefit her at least in the short term, that will make things a lot easier on me. I really hate to be the tiebreaker in this little dispute. Not that Shelby and Sage are disputing exactly. They’re getting along wonderfully. Still, there is an underlying tension, if you know what I mean.”

  Sierra and I chatted for a while longer, and then she continued on with her shopping, and I headed toward the market. Once I was done there, I still needed to stop by the bakery and the liquor store, but neither would take that much time. I thought about trying to track down the other names on the list Velma had given me but decided to wait and see what Colt was able to find out. This was, after all, his case. I supposed that if someone was going to talk to Nazareth and Rupert from the bowling alley, it really should be him.

  Chapter 10

  The gang was back from cross-country skiing by the time I’d returned from town. I’d also received a text from Colt letting me know that he was on schedule and planned to be back in Holiday Bay around eight p.m. He offered to stop by the cottage when he returned if I didn’t think it was too late. I hadn’t seen him for a week and was anxious for us to spend some time together, so I told him to come by whatever time he got here.

  “So how’d it go?” I asked Jeremy after I’d joined him and Mylie in the kitchen where they were chatting with Georgia.

  “The skiing went fine, but I’m afraid we did have one casualty.”

  “Casualty?” I asked, picturing broken bones.

  “Warren and Whitney ended up getting into a huge fight after Warren tried to help Whitney, who was having a hard time getting the hang of things.”

  I wrinkled my nose. If Warren and Whitney had the same sort of relationship that I’d had with Ben, then trying to tell Whitney what to do and not to do wouldn’t have gone over well at all.

  “Was it a bad fight?” I asked.

  Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess. Whitney kept falling down, so Warren tried to give her some pointers. Even I could see that Whitney was getting madder and madder with every ‘bend at the knees,’ ‘lean back a bit,’ or ‘keep your hips straight.’ It seemed to me that Whitney wanted to figure it out for herself, but Warren seemed determined to help her. In the end, she got mad and spent the last hour and a half of the outing in the van.”

  “Are they here now?” I asked.

  “Whitney is up in the suite, and Warren went somewhere in their car.”

  “He left?” I frowned.

  “I don’t think he left as in leaving the area,” Jeremy answered. “If I had to guess, he went into town to seek out the comfort of a tall cold one and some time to himself.”

  “Maybe I’ll take some tea up to Whitney,” I suggested. “See if there is anything I can do to help smooth things over.”

  Jeremy snickered. “Just be warned that she might bite your head off. The angrier she got at Warren, the moodier she seemed to get in general.”

  I got up and put on the kettle. “I’ll keep that in mind. If Whitney seems to want to be alone, I’ll just leave the tea and come back downstairs, but if she’s in the mood to talk, I’m willing to lend an ear. The first year of marriage can be wonderful, but it can be hard as well. I remember that Ben and I fought more during that first year than we did at any other point in our relationship.”

  After I gathered a tray with the tea and cookies I’d selected, I headed to the suite at the top of the stairs. I knocked once, and Whitney answered. I could tell she’d been crying. “I brought tea,” I said, holding up the tray with the biggest smile I could muster.

  “Thanks, but I’m not much of a tea drinker.”

  “This tea has a secret ingredient.”

  That seemed to do the trick since she stepped aside, and I set the tea on the small dining table provided in all six suites.

  “What’s the secret ingredient?” she asked.

  I held up a glass of amber liquid. “Brandy.”

  She grinned. “Maybe I will have some tea after all.”

  “I’ll let you pour it, so you can adjust the amount of brandy to your taste,” I offered. “The cookies are good as well. They’re still hot from the oven.”

>   “Thank you so much.”

  I turned to leave. I was halfway to the door when I turned back. “Jeremy told me what happened. I know we barely know each other, but if you want to talk, I’m happy to listen.”

  “Are you married?” she asked.

  “I was. My husband passed away two years ago.”

  Her brow narrowed. “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s fine that you asked. Asking is usually the best way to find stuff out. It was hard at the time, but I can talk about it now.”

  She poured half the brandy I’d brought into her cup, barely leaving room for the tea. “I know this is a personal question, and you don’t have to answer, but I am curious as to how the two of you got along.”

  “We got along fine,” I answered. “At least eventually. I will admit that we fought a lot during that first year while we tried to work out the parameters of our relationship, but as time went by, it got better.”

  She seemed to relax a bit. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Figuring out boundaries and determining the rules that work for both of you can be a difficult process.”

  She took a sip of her tea. “I’m glad to hear that. To be honest, I really thought there might be something wrong with my relationship with Warren. We barely fought while we were dating, but now that we’re married, I find that half the stuff he does irritates me to no end.”

  “Like trying to over help.”

  She nodded. “Exactly like that. Warren has this need to do things just so, which makes me nuts.” She sat back as she warmed up to the subject. “When I first moved into his house, he made it clear that I loaded the dishwasher all wrong. As far as I was concerned, I’d been loading dishwashers for years and years, and the way I did it was fine, but he didn’t see it that way.”

  “I take it you found a compromise?”

  She grinned. “I told Warren that he could load it from that point forward to ensure that it was done to his liking, and I haven’t washed a dish since.”

  I smiled back. “Seems like a good compromise.”

  “I thought so at the time, but looking back, I guess we set a precedent. Eventually, Warren took over the laundry and vacuuming as well as the dishes. Don’t get me wrong, I hate housework, so when he insisted on stepping in and doing it his way, I let him. But it did occur to me when he insisted that I needed to do things his way on the ski trail today that I may have created a situation where my opinion doesn’t matter. It’s like either I do it his way, or I don’t do it at all.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I can see how the whole housework thing might have backfired. But it’s not too late to change that. I know it can seem really hard to find the sweet spot in your relationship where you both feel happy and fulfilled, but it will happen if you keep working at it.”

  “Basically, that’s what Greta said. She’s been married to Paul for fifty years, and at this point, they seem so happy and content. They really seem to get each other, and they are just so sweet when it comes to the way they look out for each other. I have to admit that when I first met them, I assumed it had always been that way and that they really had found their true soulmate in each other, but then Greta pulled me aside this afternoon after we returned from the outing. She could see that I was upset, so she assured me that the perfect symmetry she shares with Paul was something they had to build over time and that it didn’t come without commitment on both their parts. I really hope that’s true for Warren and me.”

  “I’m sure it will be.”

  “Maybe. Sometimes it just seems like we are so different. I’m not sure why I never realized that before.”

  I decided not to say anything at this point since I didn’t want to say the wrong thing, so I simply hugged the woman and then left her with her brandy, her tea, and her cookies. Jeremy and Mylie had gone out to the woodshed to restock the woodbins for the evening. Georgia had run back to the cottage to freshen up after baking all day. So I made sure the guests who’d gathered in the lounge had everything they needed before heading to the cottage to clean up and check emails and messages that may have come in during the day.

  “Is that a new candle?” I asked Georgia after walking in to the scent of vanilla.

  “Yes. I ordered several online. So far, this one is my favorite. It’s a subtle scent. Not at all overpowering like the cookie dough candle I tried last week.”

  “Maybe after baking all day, you’re just tired of smelling cookie dough,” I pointed out.

  “Maybe.” She grinned. “So, how did your talk with Whitney go?”

  “Okay. As I suspected, I think the newly married couple is just trying to work out the parameters of their relationship.”

  “The first year can be tough,” Georgia agreed. “The second and third year as well if you’re with the wrong guy like I was.” Georgia never really talked about her marriage before her husband was convicted of embezzlement, sent to jail, and eventually committed suicide. I guessed that I figured she was happy early on but maybe not. “Is Colt going to make it back this evening?” she inquired.

  “He said he’d be here around eight o’clock. I was just going to pillage some food from the kitchen and bring it back here for the two of us when he arrives.”

  “Now there is a man who is the right guy,” Georgia said. “At least for you. It seems like the two of you never fight.”

  “We’ve had a spat or two, but yeah, mostly we never fight. I guess this time around, I already know who I am and what I want out of a relationship. Colt does too. I don’t anticipate experiencing the growing pains I had with Ben should we decide to marry in the future.”

  “Do you think you will? Marry?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m open to the idea, but we’re in a really good place right now, and I don’t think either of us is looking to change things. Colt has the kids to consider, and I have the inn. Things aren’t just about the two of us. I guess we’ll just have to see how things unfold, but for now, I feel like we are exactly where we’re meant to be.”

  She hugged me. “I’m glad you’re working it out. I really need to get back to the inn if I’m going to get dinner on the table on time. Jeremy and Mylie volunteered to clean up, so once the meal is served, I’m going to head over to Tanner’s. He’s cooking for me tonight.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  She pulled her jacket on. “I’m looking forward to it. Tanner has been really busy lately, so it’s been forever since we’ve had alone time. I’m planning to stay over if you want some quiet time with Colt as well. Annabelle is out of school this week, so Jeremy is going to handle the breakfast duties.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Have fun, and I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow.”

  By the time Colt arrived, I’d scavenged food from the inn’s kitchen and had it warming in the oven. Jeremy and Mylie seemed to have everything handled at the inn, so I left them to it with instructions to call me if they needed anything. I really wanted Georgia to have this evening off. Between her job at the inn and her cooking show, Cooking with Georgia, it seemed like she had very little free time, and while she never complained, I knew that having time to unwind was as important as any other task we might take on.

  “So, how was your trip?” I asked after Colt arrived, and I’d kissed him hello.

  “My visit with my parents and the kids was nice. My quick trip to Houston was exhausting.”

  “Was it worth it?” I asked as I removed the food I had warming from the oven and set it on hot pads next to the plates and utensils I’d already taken from the cupboard.

  “I did find out some interesting facts,” Colt said as he began dishing food onto his plate. “I’m not sure that any of the facts I uncovered will help us to identify the person who killed William, but I suppose the trip to Houston was worth my time.”

  “So what did you find out?” I asked after I dished up my plate and joined Colt at the little table that looked out over the now dark bay.

&nbs
p; Colt took a long swig of his beer before answering. The poor guy looked exhausted. I supposed a round trip from Maine to Houston in a single twenty-four hour period was pushing it. “It seems that William worked for Brighton and Baxter as head groundskeeper at their property in Cabo San Lucas,” he began.

  “Which explains the Cabo link,” I said, quickly filling Colt in on my conversation with Kurt from the Reindeer Roundup.

  “That fits what I was told today,” Colt verified. “I’m not sure exactly how a groundskeeper and senior developer got to know each other, but it seems that William and Baxter were, at a minimum, casually acquainted. I spoke to several different people, including Dennis Brighton, and came away with somewhat conflicting reports as to how the two men eventually partnered up to try to convince Henrietta Rosewood to sell her property to Brighton and Baxter. At some point, Abbot Baxter and William Andrews came to an agreement. Henrietta Rosewood was in the market for a new groundskeeper after her old one retired, and William agreed to apply for the job so he would be in a position to convince Henri to sell the property as she’d initially planned.”

  “So you don’t know if William approached Baxter with the plan or if Baxter approached William.”

  “That part is unclear. Dennis Brighton seemed to think William approached Baxter, but I spoke to someone at the Cabo property, who seemed to think Baxter approached William. At this point, I’m unsure, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter.”

  “Okay, so go on with your story. Somehow, Abbot Baxter and William Andrews teamed up to convince Henri to sell her property to Brighton and Baxter. Then what? How did this partnership lead to William’s death?”

  “I’m not sure that it did. We know the men had a contract of sorts that would provide financial compensation to William if he was able to convince Henri to sell by whatever means he saw fit. I can’t see that either Baxter or Andrews had anything to gain by Henri dying, so I have to assume that part wasn’t planned. We still don’t know for sure that Henri’s fall was a result of the haunting, but it does make a good theory. I checked on Baxter’s whereabouts during the week before Scot’s dog found William’s body in the toolshed, and he never left Houston at all during that time, so I do know that Baxter didn’t personally kill the man.”