“No, but I think Jill’s bravado covered a lot of insecurity. She liked to talk big, but it never amounted to much.”
“Maybe everyone in the world is more insecure than we think,” Lacy said.
“Maybe so. Maybe everyone in high school felt like the chubby kid with a back brace who cried a lot, regardless of how they looked or acted on the outside.”
“I know I felt that way, so I’m going to believe your hypothesis is true. You’ve stumbled onto something big and are undoubtedly a genius. Maybe you should do one of those Ted talks.”
“Who says I haven’t?” Snaps asked.
Lacy laughed. “I’m sorry we never got to have that meal and catch up.”
“When do you leave?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“There’s still time,” Snaps said. “In fact, I have the perfect proposition for you. I heard a snowy owl was spotted not too far from here. I’m going to try to get some pictures of it. Want to join me?”
“That sounds awesome,” Lacy said.
“The only drawback is that you’ll have to ski to get there.”
She couldn’t help herself; she physically recoiled from the table.
Snaps chuckled. “It’s a gentle rise and we can take the ski lift to get there. No more evil tow ropes.”
“Isn’t the ski lift kind of scary?”
“It’s really not. Look at me.” He held out his hands for her surveyal. “Honestly, if I can do it, you can do it. Besides, you can’t let it beat you. You’re in the former loser brigade. You’ve got to show the world what you’re made of, prove your worth, cut your muster.”
“Yes, sir,” she gave him a snappy little salute. “What exactly are you working on there?”
“New app. When I was in college, I couldn’t wait to get out and write my own software. Now I write software every day, and all I want to do is get out and take pictures. Why do you think that is? Do you think that sort of restlessness means something is wrong with me? Am I doomed to believe the grass is always greener on the other side of the mountain?”
“Yes, you’re fundamentally flawed and there’s no hope for you. Or you’re a normal human being who yearns for something more.”
“What more do you yearn for, Lacy Steele?”
“Food. Sven has me on a liquid diet.”
He had just taken a sip of his drink, which by the smell she presumed to be more carob concoction, when he snorted and nearly choked. “Aw, man, you made carob milk come out my nose. That hasn’t happened to me since….ever. Were you this funny in high school?”
“No, I was much more somber in high school. I took myself—and everyone else—way too seriously.”
“So what happened?”
“You’re very psychologically curious today,” she said.
“I work in a dark basement with five other geeks. When I have contact with humans, I tend to make the most of it. Carry on.”
“I got away from home and realized not everyone was watching and critiquing my every move the way my mom did. I finally started to relax. Then I lost a bunch of weight, let my roommate show me how to apply makeup and do my hair, and got a boyfriend.”
“The beefy-looking jock?”
“No, that boyfriend was much more cerebral. He was a mover and shaker wanna be in Manhattan. Anyway, he dumped me for my sister. I had a bit of a breakdown, quit my job, and moved back home to live with my grandma.”
Snaps whistled. “You’re damaged. I like that in a woman.”
“I’m really not. I was for a while, but a bunch of weird stuff happened. Somehow I picked myself up and got moving again and that is how Stella got her groove back. The end.”
“Why do I feel like you left a lot out?” Snaps said.
“Because you’re not a nerd in name only—you’ve earned it by being smart and bad at sports.”
“Don’t forget good with computers and able to wield a tuba at a moment’s notice,” he said.
“It’s almost like we’re writing your dating profile right now,” Lacy said. They had always had a deprecating sense of humor about their lackluster status in the world.
Jason ambled up beside them and spoke. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Lacy said. “How was basketball?”
“Not good. Tosh was on my team. Needless to say we lost.”
“I’ll see you later, Lacy,” Snaps said. He gathered up his stuff and took off, not waiting for a reply.
“Was it something I said?” Jason asked. He slid into the spot Snaps had just vacated.
“’Basketball.’ Never aim sports talk at a geek. It angers and confuses us.”
“What have you been up to since supper?” he asked.
“I talked to the person who gave me the massage.”
“To tell her of your intent to sue for damages?”
“To see if she killed Jill.”
“Lacy.”
“I took Kimber with me,” she said.
“Oh, that’s better then. When preparing to meet a possible murderer, it’s always better to offer up two potential victims.”
“I thought so. Anyway, I didn’t learn much. Everyone hated Jill, blah, blah, blah. So next I went to talk to an old naked woman.”
“Because…”
“Because that’s what you do when you’re away from home and looking for adventure, Jason. Also because her name came up as having a particular problem with Jill.” She stifled a yawn. As much as she wanted to talk to him, she was nearing the end of her endurance. The day had been long.
“Anything there?”
“A lot of wrinkles and a determination to never let anyone see me naked after the age of fifty. Also, she agreed that—surprise—everyone hated Jill. Although she did give me a lead on a possible boyfriend.”
“Did you tell Detective Green?”
“Um, no, I was delayed in that by my conversation with Snaps.”
“Translation: you had no intention of telling the police.”
“I sort of forgot, but in my defense, I’m stupid tired. Did you have any luck talking to the detective? Did you tell him how universally Jill was disliked?”
“He already knew. They’re doing their own interviews and suspect roundup. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but he’s not a hotdog intent on steamrolling your friend. He’s being thorough, and all the evidence is pointing at Sven.”
“In my heart, I know it’s not him.”
“Your heart’s been wrong before.”
“Okay, then in my gut I know it’s not him. You said a good cop has to know when to listen to his gut, right?”
“Your hearing is extremely selective, but I love you, so I’m willing to give you a pass,” he said. She stifled another yawn. “Am I boring you?”
“Yes. I’ve grown weary of your charming demeanor and gorgeous face. I’ve decided to dump you and go for someone ugly and boorish.”
“Never thought I would go out with a woman who used ‘boorish’ in everyday conversation.”
“You should have aimed higher then,” she said and was unable to stifle the yawn this time. It was jaw-crackingly large. “I’m so sorry.”
“Let’s get you back to your room,” Jason said. He put his arm around her and began gently shepherding her toward her room. She leaned into him a little.
“I feel like I’ve barely seen you since we got here. What happened to our romantic weekend away?”
“Did you ever notice that something always happens? Sometimes it feels like someone is plotting our lives and they have it out for us,” Jason said. “Like we’re monkeys on a string and they’re jerking us around for their amusement.”
“I’m inclined to blame my mom,” Lacy said.
“Don’t be so hasty. Frannie and I have been getting along better lately. I think she’s starting to accept me,” Jason said.
“She’s always accepted you. It’s me she’s not sure of.” They reached her room.
“What do you think it would take for us to be complete
ly alone, no distractions, no family, no work, no intrusions?” Jason asked.
“A miracle from heaven?” Lacy suggested.
Jason sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to take what we can get. What are you doing tomorrow?”
“I’m going bird watching with Snaps.”
“Bird watching. That sounds…old. See you on the drive home?”
“I’m riding with you, so I’d say there’s a high likelihood.”
“With the way things are going, you never know.” He kissed her goodnight and watched her walk into her room. Even after the door was closed, he remained in the hallway, thinking. What would she say if she knew what he suspected? The conversation with her father hadn’t revealed much more than the conversation with Frannie, but it had given him enough to make him question the truth.
In police work when there were two suspects, the best strategy was to separate them and see how their stories matched. They should be similar, but not precise. In Frannie and Clint’s case, their stories matched so well they sounded rehearsed. Jason checked his watch. It was late. Too late to call Mr. Middleton and Mrs. Craig? Maybe, but he needed Mr. Middleton for a sounding board, someone to tell him if his theory was too far in left field. And he needed Mrs. Craig’s meticulous record keeping to find the name of Frannie’s camp. Once he had that, it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out what happened that summer so long ago between Lacy’s parents. The only question that would remain then was what to do with the information once he had it.
Chapter 16
For the second night in a row, Lacy fell across her bed in an exhausted heap. She was asleep instantly, despite the fact that Kimber and Riley were still awake and talking. And like the night before, she woke several hours later to the sound of baby Lucy crying. Unlike the previous night, she didn’t feel magnanimous enough to offer to take her niece. She hunkered down, squeezed her eyes closed, and hoped Riley wouldn’t notice she was awake. No such luck.
“Lacy, can you take the baby?”
Lacy rolled over to see her sister standing over her bouncing the baby back and forth. Whatever she was doing was increasing Lucy’s ire because her wails were gaining in volume.
“Someone let that cat out,” Frannie muttered.
With a suppressed sigh, Lacy rolled out of bed and held her arms out for Lucy. Riley gladly handed her over and took Lacy’s spot in bed, falling almost immediately into the sleep Lacy now coveted. Having a baby wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. In commercials and movies, they were always cuddly, clean, and laughing or sleeping. Only in real life did they wail at odd hours and smell like sour milk. When she was in high school, she’d had to carry a sack of flour around for a week to simulate what it was like to have a baby. The experience had done nothing to dim her desire to have children. All it had done was make her hungry for everything her grandmother could have baked with the flour. This, though. This was the real deal. Teenagers should have to spend 24 hours with a real, crying, wetting, puking baby. The teen parent rate would plummet.
She grabbed Lucy’s blanket and scuttled into the hallway, squinting her eyes against the shattering brightness. Once again Lucy stopped crying as soon as they were out the door.
She really hates that room, Lacy thought and started to giggle at the absurdity. Of course the baby didn’t hate the room. She was merely glad to be moving with a new face to stare at. Once the laughter started, she couldn’t stuff it back in again. She often got the giggles when she was overly tired. Compressing her lips to muffle the sound made her snort, which made her laugh harder. She hurried down the hall toward the den and serenity. Once she reached it, she wasn’t laughing anymore. Not only that, but she couldn’t remember why she had started laughing in the first place.
I’m tired, so tired, was all she could seem to think at the moment. She yawned and looked down at the now content infant in her arms. If she was this exhausted after two nights of getting up with the baby, how spent must Riley be? It was a wonder her sister maintained even a shred of sanity.
Lacy sat and cozied into the chair nearest the fire. Despite the simmering blaze, she felt none of the warmth from the night before. Her chill had less to do with the temperature and more to do with the deserted atmosphere of the resort. Had it felt so desolate last night? She didn’t think so. Yesterday the inn had seemed cozy and full of promise. Now a woman had been murdered and her killer was still on the loose. While it was true that Jill had likely known her murderer and her death hadn’t been a random attack, Lacy couldn’t help but feel exposed as she sat alone in the cavernous room. Worse, she had added a baby to the mix. Knowing that her first priority would be to shelter Lucy made her feel more vulnerable than if she were on her own. What would she do if someone tried to attack her while she was holding an infant? Should she put Lucy down and fight or hold her tighter and run away? Which would be safer for Lucy?
Her mind wandered, puzzling over all the ways she could land a few well-placed martial arts kicks to an assailant without upending a sleeping baby. She was doing well against her pretend attacker when she came to with a start. What was that noise? Slowly, cautiously, she peeked around the edge of the chair. Was someone standing in the shadows, watching her?
“Hello,” she called, but the croaked whisper carried no weight in the too-large room. She swallowed and tried again, louder this time. “Is someone there?”
The person, if it was a person, didn’t move. Lacy stared. There was no one there, it was a trick of her overheated imagination. She was just about to turn around in relief when the form shifted slightly to the side. She froze again, hugging a sleeping Lucy to her chest.
Fight or flight? Fight or flight? Take Lucy or set her down and go inspect? If the person were a friend, he would step forward and identify himself. If he were a foe, he would remain hidden and watching in the shadows.
“Hello, who is it?” Lacy tried again. She was practically yelling this time. There was no way she hadn’t been heard. If whoever it was didn’t step forward this time, she would know he was up to no good.
The form shifted but made no move to step forward.
Lacy stood and looked from Lucy to the chair and back again. She couldn’t leave her baby niece lying there helpless and alone. She couldn’t run away without passing by the mystery person. There was only one thing to be done for it—she would have to confront him. She was at a disadvantage, several really. She had no idea who the person was. He was in shadow; she was in full light. Judging by what she could see, he was tall; she was short. She wasn’t what anyone would call athletic. Oh, and she was holding a baby. Still, at the very least she had to make him think she wasn’t afraid. Maybe standing up to his menacing presence would be enough to make him go away.
She wanted to run at him, arms windmilling, but of course she couldn’t. Instead she cinched Lucy closer and stomped toward him, keening a high note like Xena, warrior princess.
“Hee-ya!!” She had gained momentum so that she was nearly jogging by the time she reached him, or as near as she dared jog while holding such precious cargo. She reached out and kicked—low so she wouldn’t overbalance. Her foot connected with—nothing. Somewhere during her advance she had closed her eyes. She opened them now and yelped. Her reflection stared back at her from a floor-to ceiling window. A slight breeze emerged from the vent in the ceiling and the curtains swayed subtly to the right.
“I have met the enemy, and he is me,” she whispered, feeling stupid. A quick glance at Lucy showed her still asleep and somehow it comforted Lacy that no one had seen her attack a curtain, not even a baby.
Then someone cleared his throat. She pivoted and saw Derek standing close behind her, too close. She took a step back and bumped the wall.
“Can I help you with something, or would you like to continue your argument with this curtain?” he asked. He was wearing his uniform and nametag, so either he was starting his shift or ending it.
“I have a baby.” Lacy hadn’t meant it to come out sounding like a threat, but
somehow it did.
“Are you licensed to use it?” Derek asked. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to be self-effacing or charming. Either way, the effect fell flat on her jangled nerves. What if Derek was the killer? What if he killed her? Her eyes darted nervously from side to side. In the distance, the resort was beginning to wake. Someone was behind the desk now, well within shouting distance. She and Lucy were safe. Her heartbeat eased its erratic rhythm.
“Actually, I did want to talk to you.”
“It’s okay, I had to sign a confidentiality agreement as part of my employment. Nothing I’ve seen here can go on record anywhere,” he said. “And if I write a tell-all someday, the names will be changed.”
“That’s good, I guess,” she said. “Can we sit?” She motioned toward the chairs by the fire. He stood aside to allow her to get by. They sat by the fire, and it felt warmer than before. Whether the effect was the psychology of not being alone or because one of the fire elves had come to add wood, Lacy couldn’t say. It occurred to her that Derek might be one of the unseen fire tenders.
“Are you a fire elf?” she asked and then, realizing he hadn’t been privy to her mental nickname, hastened to motion toward the fire. “Do you keep this going through the night?”
“No, I’m more of a cave troll. I toil behind the desk. The grounds staff is in charge of the fire.” He checked his phone. “If that’s all, I should get back.”
Did he really think she had sat him down to ask if he was the one who kept the fire going in the night? Judging by her past behavior near him, he might. “Wait, I had more questions.”
He sat and, with effort, suppressed a sigh. “I don’t change your sheets, either. I know that also happens as if by magic, but we have a whole staff here who does these things.” He slowed his words and gestured expansively, pointing around the resort.
“I wanted to ask you about Jill,” she said, and the smug grin disappeared.
“What about her?”
Last Resort of Murder (A Lacy Steele Mystery Book 9) Page 11
