The Secret, Book & Scone Society

by Ellery Adams

  The women sipped their drinks and complimented Bob on his choice.

  “Our friend Estella told us about you,” Nora said. It was both unsettling and wonderful to claim Estella as her friend. Just as it was both unsettling and wonderful to be in this bar with Hester and June. Wearing makeup. And heels.

  “She did?” Bob’s face glowed. “I’m in love with her. I mean that. I see the real her. And I could make her happy if she’d let me. One day, when she’s done playing around with these out-of-towners, she might just realize that it’s true.”

  June reached out and gave his hand a maternal pat. “Are you sure you want to wait for her, Bob? There are other fish in the sea.”

  “Not for me,” Bob declared firmly. “There’s only Estella.”

  Bob briefly left them to serve another customer, but when he returned, Nora decided to steer the conversation to a safer subject: books. Bob admitted that his visits to Miracle Books were few and far between, because tending bar at both the Oasis and the garden bar left him little time for reading.

  “I’d love to open a place of my own,” he confided. “A little gastropub. It’s a dream of mine. That, and winning Estella’s heart.”

  “Where is she, by the way?” Hester asked.

  Bob’s face darkened. “With one of those Pine Ridge scumbags in the corner. Behind all the palm trees.”

  June glanced over her shoulder and pretended to look worried. “He’s a scumbag?”

  “Oh, yeah. First off, he’s married. I saw him take off his ring and slip it into his pocket.” Bob picked up a tumbler and began polishing it with his dishcloth. “Also, he and the rest of that group are rude to the staff. And they’re terrible tippers to boot. The way you treat those in the service industry says a great deal about your character.”

  “Yes, it does,” Hester agreed.

  “That’s the rub,” Bob continued, warming up to his subject. “I’ve seen their brochures for the Meadows. They’re supposed to be building a community in Miracle Springs, but they don’t seem very interested in its people. When they’re in this bar they spend their time with a drink in one hand and a cell phone in the other.”

  Like all experienced bartenders, Bob has the gift of observation, Nora thought.

  “What’s their mood like?” Nora asked. “Do they seem sad over the loss of their colleague?”

  Bob stopped polishing. “You’d expect a little grief, wouldn’t you, but I haven’t seen any. These folks are all business. They’re clearly on a timetable and have a fixed agenda. And they’re not going to let anyone—and I’m including the sheriff, the Grim Reaper, and the Almighty when I say anyone—mess with that agenda.”

  June arched her brows. “Did the sheriff pay a visit to these lofty Pine Ridge people?”

  “He sure did,” Bob said, dipping his chin to acknowledge the customer who’d just signaled to him from the other side of the bar. “It was a strange visit too. When the sheriff sat down with the Pine Ridge trio, it felt more like an Irish wake than an interview. And I expected an interview. A man was run over by a train, after all. Instead, I saw five people whispering and drinking whiskey.” Bob stepped away and then paused and turned back. “Here’s another thing: The sheriff didn’t bring a deputy along. He brought a family member instead. So unless he was off-duty, which I don’t think he was, seeing as he was still in uniform, the whole event struck me as odd.”

  Nora’s pulse quickened. “Who was the family member?”

  “The sheriff’s big brother,” Bob said, already heading toward his customer. He tossed the name back over his shoulder. “Dawson Hendricks.”

  Chapter 6

  They sell courage of a sort in taverns.

  —Ellis Peters

  “That name keeps popping up,” June said.

  “It sure does,” agreed Hester. “And I don’t have to be Perry Mason to know that something’s wrong with the picture Bob just painted. Three people from Pine Ridge Properties sat in this bar and had drinks with the bank’s loan officer and Sheriff Toad hours after a man was tragically killed.”

  Nora had a hard time imagining such a group in this tranquil setting. They must have seemed out of place among the potted palms, tropical wallpaper, and the whisper of the wicker ceiling fans, among the people who’d come to the hotel in search of healing.

  “What strikes me as especially strange is that the sheriff didn’t care who witnessed his behavior,” she said to her companions. “The hotel and bar staff could easily identify the Pine Ridge trio. They would have recognized them as the bigwigs behind the Meadows project. Right, June?”

  “Absolutely,” June said. “You have no idea how fast information travels in a hotel network. News usually reaches the pools last, seeing as we’re off-site, but we heard how Neil had died and that his partners were riding on the very train that struck him down within an hour of the event.”

  “So either the sheriff was doing no wrong during this unusual gathering involving his older brother and Neil’s partners, or he didn’t see that it made a difference who saw them together,” Nora continued. “After all, he’s the law.”

  Hester helped herself to a corn-bread muffin before passing the basket to June. “We all believe that Neil was pushed. Which means we all believe he was murdered. Why? Because he was going to make amends for the bad things he’d done. Piecing the snippets of conversation he had with you and Nora, we assume those bad things involved the Meadows. That development brought him to Miracle Springs. It also brought his partners here.”

  “After I’m done with Dawson Hendricks tomorrow, I hope to understand just how important he is to Pine Ridge Properties.” Nora traced the rim of her martini glass and was surprised to find it empty. She hadn’t even realized she’d finished her cocktail. To hide her discomfort, she kept talking. “Unless the sheriff is their hired gun and the Pine Ridge people asked him to silence Neil, I don’t see why they’d want a small-town lawman on their payroll.”

  Before June or Hester could offer a theory, Bob presented them with a fresh round of drinks. “Compliments of the gentlemen at the far end of the bar.”

  Instead of looking in that direction, Nora fixed her eyes on Hester and asked, “Do you know them?”

  Hester gave the men an awkward wave of thanks and then turned back to Nora. “Never seen them before. They’re twice our age.”

  “Your age,” June corrected. “But we didn’t come here to flirt. Speaking of which, I’m going to visit the ladies’ room. I want to check on Estella.”

  Hester watched June maneuver around a young couple waiting for seats at the bar. “If anyone needs checking on, it’s Fenton,” she said with a wry smile.

  “You like Estella, don’t you?” Nora asked.

  “I didn’t at first, but she’s growing on me.” Hester stared into her glass as if she could read an omen in the sun-colored cocktail. “She has an undeniable power over men. I just hope she uses that superpower for good tonight. It’s obvious, from her story, this hasn’t always been the case.”

  Nora swept her gaze around the room. The people in the Oasis Bar seemed relaxed, but subdued. The majority of the lodge’s guests had come to town in search of a miracle. Estella, on the other hand, had been searching for a miracle with every new wave of guests—every group of passengers disembarking at the Miracle Springs train station. However, she’d only found a temporary respite from a painful past and an uncertain future, and that lack of connection to another human being could cause a person to act out.

  “I think we all want to use our powers for good,” Nora said. “But loneliness can lead people to dark places. At least we have each other now.”

  Hester smiled. “Yes, we do.”

  The two women clinked the rims of their glasses and polished off the remainder of their martinis.

  I can not have another drink, Nora thought, despite the pleasant sensation that her body was lighter. It was as if she’d shucked off weight she hadn’t even known she’d been carrying. Her brain was qu
ieter too. All the sharp edges of her memory were softened and she felt less guarded. Less scarred.

  The feeling dissipated as soon as June returned from the ladies’ room. “We have to go. Now.” She slapped some bills on the polished wood bar.

  “What’s going on?” Nora asked as June shouldered her way through a knot of people.

  “Fenton and Estella are getting ready to leave,” June said over her shoulder. “Estella gave me a sign—just a quick one—but it was clear enough. She wants us to follow her.”

  Nora considered the implications of June’s comment. “That could make for a very awkward elevator ride.”

  “Forget the elevator,” Hester said. “What are we supposed to do when they reach Fenton’s guest room? Tell him that we’re a package deal?”

  June threw a look of disgust at Hester. “Hell, no! They must be heading elsewhere or she wouldn’t want us to come along. I have a feeling our crafty redhead has a plan.”

  Upon exiting the bar, the three women spotted Estella sashaying across the lobby toward the hotel’s main door. Her arm was hooked through Fenton’s and every now and then she’d lean into him, as though she felt a little unsteady on her feet. Nora didn’t know Estella well enough to tell whether she was faking or if she was genuinely having trouble balancing in stilettos.

  Outside, the summer night was filled with music. The soft jazz coming from the alfresco area of the restaurant harmonized with the chirping and sawing of nearby insects.

  “They’re getting in a golf cart.” Nora pointed at the couple just as Fenton saluted one of the valets and pulled away from the curb.

  “Back to my car!” June cried and the women moved as swiftly as possible in their heels to reach June’s old Bronco. “I think Estella’s taking her date to the thermal pools.”

  “Aren’t they closed?” Hester asked.

  June laughed. “Which is exactly the point. If Estella can find a way in, and I have a sneaking suspicion she’s been inside the pool after hours more than once, then she’ll have the whole place to herself. It could be very romantic. Or—”

  “Very dangerous.” Nora completed the thought.

  June pressed down on the gas pedal, causing the Bronco to lurch forward. “Yeah. That’s what I’m worried about. I think Estella plans to seduce this man in exchange for information, but she’s also gotten a vibe from him. She doesn’t like that vibe, so that’s why she doesn’t want to be left alone with him.”

  Hester glanced out the window at the star-pocked sky. “Fenton can’t be Neil’s murderer because Fenton was on the train, right? None of the Pine Ridge Property people are killers.”

  “Maybe they didn’t commit the physical act,” Nora said. “But one or all of them could have conspired to get rid of Neil.”

  June made a noise of agreement. “We’re in the dark about lots of important things. For example, who might have told Neil’s partners that his conscience was troubling him? Who lured him down to the ledge above the train tracks? Who pushed him? And who benefits the most from his death? These are all things we’ll have to look at if we want to find out what happened to this man, but at the moment, there’s only one crucial thing for us to do.”

  “Keep Estella safe,” Nora said.

  “Without compromising her plan,” June said, holding up a finger in warning. “Luckily, not only can I get us into the pools, but I also know the perfect spot for spying. We’ll be able to hear every whisper and still be close enough to knock Fenton on the head with a lead pipe if he lays a hand on Estella.”

  Hester chewed her thumb. “I don’t like this. We’re either going to overhear something terrible about Neil Parrish’s murder or we’re simply going to overhear things that we have no business overhearing.”

  June gained entrance into the bathhouse by punching a code into a side door marked STAFF ONLY. She then led Nora and Hester down a long, damp corridor to an alcove occupied by a bamboo stand filled with stacks of clean, white towels. From this position, the three women heard the sounds of splashing and giggling coming from the pool.

  “Is that Estella’s dress?” Hester pointed at a chair on the far side of the cavernous space.

  “It sure isn’t a towel,” June said. “It looks like Fenton shed his clothes too.”

  Hidden behind the towel stand, the women were completely obscured from the bathers’ view. However, June put her fingers to her lips and gestured at the ceiling. “Everything echoes in here,” she whispered. “We have to be very quiet or Mr. Pine Ridge will know that he’s skinny-dipping for an audience.”

  Hester pulled a face. “This is the epitome of uncomfortable.”

  June patted her arm. “Honey, I’ve worked here for a long time, and despite what those erectile-dysfunction commercials imply with those couples holding hands in the bathtub and exchanging satisfied smiles, I have yet to see a man who can keep it up in this water. The heat gives the guys what we at the bathhouse refer to as the wet-noodle effect.” She held out a finger and then slowly curled it into her palm.

  Something about the gesture and the smirk on June’s face struck Nora as funny and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh tickling the back of her throat.

  “Come and get me!” Estella called. Her words bounced off the tiles and eventually floated toward the ceiling like birds roosting in the rafters. She sounded so close that Nora was no longer tempted to laugh. Instead, she sucked in her breath and stilled her body. June and Hester did the same.

  “Why are you playing hard to get?” a man’s voice asked. Though his tone was light, there was an edge of impatience to it.

  Estella whistled a short ditty. “Because I like games. And I like to draw out these moments. This is the best part. The buildup before that first contact. It’s like the lightning before the storm. The powerful, electric part. Yes! I can feel how much you want to kiss me. How hungry you are to run your hands over my body.”

  “I am,” Fenton Greer agreed hoarsely.

  “But like I said, I enjoy games,” Estella continued in her low, husky voice. “And if you want to play with this body and use it to satisfy your deepest desires, then you have to satisfy mine too. Do you want to know how to satisfy me, Fenton?”

  “Ye-es.” The word was a moan.

  A noise indicated that someone had gotten out of the pool very close to where Nora and her friends were crouched.

  “Fenton! That’s cheating,” Estella scolded. “I haven’t said what I want from you yet. So sit down right there on the edge and I’ll tell you.”

  There was a slap of naked flesh against tile followed by a grunt.

  “That’s good. You’re so good,” Estella said. After a brief pause, during which Nora could only detect small splashes and a nearly inaudible moan from Fenton, Estella continued speaking. “The currency in this town is information. I trade in information, my sweet, suave, big-city man. And I want to know about Neil Parrish because he’s the hot topic on everyone’s lips. If I know more about him than my clients, they’ll line up to hear the juiciest tidbits from me. Do you like juicy tidbits, Fenton?”

  Nora heard a distinct plop as a wet piece of clothing struck the pool deck. It wasn’t a loud noise because the piece of clothing probably wasn’t very large and couldn’t hold much water. Nora guessed that Estella had entered the pool wearing a bra and panties and that she’d just removed one of those items.

  As though proving Nora’s assumption correct, Fenton released an animalistic groan. Several seconds passed before he managed to find his voice, and when he did, he croaked, “What do you want to know?”

  “Why would a guy like that kill himself?” Estella asked. “He had money, a successful career where he got to work with someone as interesting as you, and from what I saw in the paper, he was good-looking too. Not my type, though. That’s why I picked you out of all the men in that bar, Fenton. I knew you were special. But back to your buddy Neil. What was his story?”

  “We weren’t buddies. He had his job and I h
ad mine,” Fenton said. “And I have no idea why he came unglued. No one does. Back at the office, he seemed totally normal. He left last week on a scheduled vacation and I expected to see him again at the station in Asheville. Instead, he jumped in front of the train he was supposed to be on with the rest of us.”

  “That’s horrible! You must have been so shocked, even if you and Neil weren’t close.” Estella’s voice was a velvety purr. “Didn’t he reach out to anyone before he died? And hasn’t his family come forward to ask for more info?”

  There was a splashing sound, followed by a giggle and a chastisement of “not yet” from Estella.

  After issuing a growl of frustration, Fenton addressed Estella’s questions. “Neil sent a group text to all of us—his partners—about how he had to face the mistakes he’d made head-on. Well, he faced them, all right. Came nose to nose with sixty tons of steel. Crazy bastard. And Neil didn’t have much in the way of family. He was raised by an aunt and uncle, and all those old codgers care about is who’s going to pay their nephew’s burial expenses besides them.”

  “Jesus!” Estella spat, momentarily forgetting her part of seductress.

  “Is this your idea of foreplay? Talking about my dead partner?” Fenton asked, his voice taking on a sharpness that put Nora on edge. June and Hester had similar reactions, and the three women exchanged nervous glances. “Or are you all talk and no action? Because I can get that at home.”

  For the second time since they’d entered the bathhouse, the plop of wet cloth striking the tiles reached Nora’s ears.

  Estella must be baring it all, Nora thought, impressed by her friend’s boldness.

  “Have a drink, Fenton. That’s it. Just relax and enjoy the view,” Estella cooed. She fell silent for several seconds before saying, “I’m not all talk, but I’m drawn to ambitious men. To men who take what they want and don’t let anyone get in their way. Men who don’t like weakness. Men who will cross the line to fulfill their ambitions. Even break the law. Because sometimes, the law doesn’t matter when it comes to getting what you want. What you deserve. Does this description fit you?”