Something flickered across his face— anger? Irritation? Guilt? — then hid behind his cool eyes. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“So you don’t know a Jill or Julie?”
He shook his head. “They’re common enough names, but they didn’t come up in conversation this weekend.”
Liz smiled sweetly. “How about stealing money?”
“Ah, now that I did discuss with Gregorio. I had evidence he was skimming money off the top. Not that he needed to. After all, he was already getting three times what agents normally take.” He stood and stretched. “What I’m wondering is how this has any relevance to what’s going on? The murderer was taken into custody. We watched him go.”
“Nothing,” I said. “But you frightened my son. I don’t take kindly to that.”
He looked me in the eye. I could tell that he knew I knew he threatened Zach. “I figured he didn’t need to be involved and was hoping he’d forget it. Stuff like that can be traumatic for a child.” He smiled. “With Kevin gone, let’s put all this behind us. Would you like to go skiing with us?”
“No, thanks.” I was extremely glad the guests would be leaving the Inn for the day. “But you have fun.”
* * *
When Mom called from Spain to ask how things were going, I didn’t mention the murder because it would just worry her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So I got straight to the part about losing my wedding ring. And that started me sniffling. By the time we ended the five minute call, I needed a Kleenex. I found one in the kitchen.
I wasn’t sure why I was crying so much over Robert this weekend. It had been nearly a year since his death. I must have somehow skipped this part of the mourning process; and it caught up to me with a vengeance.
When the door opened, I turned away, but not before I saw David’s smile turn to concern. He closed the distance between us and put his arm around my shoulder. I barely knew him, but I went into his arms and cried for long minutes before I could regain control over my emotions. I felt like a slobbering fool.
But David pulled up some chairs, and handed me more tissues. He even caught the next tear that made its way down my cheek, which was a very tender thing for him to do.
“Vicki, I cut my finger and—” Liz stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to visit Robert’s grave as soon as the storm lets up,” I blubbered, my hands twisting a dry tissue.
David took one of my hands and stroked my arm soothingly. The shock of a man touching my hand nearly did me in. He wasn’t Robert, but there was something gentle and caring about him that made it okay.
“I’ll go with you.” Liz shook her sore fingers. “But first, I need your peroxide.”
“Somebody left the bottle on the washing machine. But by now, the deputies have probably dusted it for prints. Paul knew about it.”
After regaining my control, David let loose of my hand. I knew it was appropriate, yet I felt lost. He said, “Someone must have been trying to get blood out of clothes. They call me all the time to donate since I’m Mr. O-negative. Very popular with the Red Cross ladies. They used peroxide like magic to get some splatters out of my white shirt.”
“Why then,” I wondered aloud as I realized the peroxide was on the washing machine for a purpose, “if it works so wonderfully, did the clothes in the washer still have blood stains?” Paul was right— someone went to a lot of trouble to make it appear as though BJ tried to wash the blood stains from her clothes. And Kevin didn’t have access to the washing machine. Or had he been inside my inconsistently locked house more than once? Or, even more frightening, all along?
Chills skittered up my spine and unease settled in my chest.
Liz frowned. “Vicki, Paul arrested the murderer. Give it a rest.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I had a few minutes just to myself. How did that happen? What I wanted was to lose myself in another chapter of my Clark Harmon/Max McKnight mystery. I jogged down the stairs, and straight into the library. Darned if Martha wasn’t sitting on my window seat and kissing Xavier on his cheek. But then she never promised me, not like he did.
Maybe this was none of my business, but it really ticked me off. He said he wouldn’t approach the guests, and here he was, obviously involved with one. If there was nothing going on, then what was their relationship?
Martha looked at me and smiled. Xavier sat upright. Yeah, that’s right, buddy. You know you’re outta line, even if Martha has no clue she is. Or would care anyway.
“Xavier, may I speak to you for a moment?”
Martha said, “You can talk to him in front of me.”
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Is that all right with you, Xavier?”
Caught between that darn rock and hard place, he nodded.
“All right. Xavier, you promised you wouldn’t get involved with the guests, yet you are kissing one guest, while another one has a picture of a little boy who looks just like you.”
Martha’s face paled. “A child?”
Xavier slumped and groaned.
“Yes,” I spoke to Martha. “Xavier and Alexis have a baby. A little four-year-old boy who looks just like his father.”
I watched as emotions passed over Martha’s face. Shock. Hurt. Anger. She stood up.
“I didn’t find out until last night, Mom.”
What? What did I just hear him call Martha? Mom?
Martha patted his arm, but her voice was tight. “I just want to see a picture of my surprise grandson.”
As she stormed from the room, I sure was glad I wasn’t the woman with the picture of her surprise grandson. I turned to Xavier with one word. “Mom?”
Xavier’s face was pale and he took a deep breath. His exhale had a relieved sound to it. “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth.”
“That would be really nice right about now.” I sat down in the chair by the window seat and waited for this whopper.
“I didn’t know she was coming up. She surprised me.”
So far, he was giving me nothing. “Is Martha your mother?”
He nodded.
The dysfunctional barracuda was really Xavier’s mother? I was stunned. “What are you doing in Silver City as Xavier Xee?”
“I moved here to get a fresh start. My father disowned me. He didn’t know she was coming up here, either.” He paused and looked at me, his turn to wait. For what?
Slowly it dawned on me. Dysfunctional family reunion at the Who-Dun-Him Inn. I said, “Your father was here.”
His voice trembled. “Gregorio was my father.”
Of course, his father was Gregorio. Memories flashed through my mind. Xavier rolling his script after Stephanie showed him the guest list with his father’s name at the top. Gregorio looking at Xavier so strangely during the play and I thought it was because the acting was so authentic. Xavier standing stunned in the carriage house with Calabria, his father, lying dead on the floor. “Xavier, this must have been awful for you.”
He closed his eyes hard, and I sensed he was fighting tears. “After I left home, I decided to make a fresh start. I moved and changed everything. Even my name. Especially my name.”
I tried to suppress my panic. This gave Xavier a motive. But I reminded myself that Kevin had already been arrested. “I’m going to have to tell my brother. He needs to know for the investigation.”
“Your brother spoke with me after finding nothing under Xavier Xee on the records. I already told him everything. I’m sorry for lying about my apartment building. The roof didn’t cave in. I just wanted to be here for my mother. And for Alexis,” he added, and I sensed his relationship with her was long over.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want Stephanie or Lonny— or anyone else in town— to know.” He stared with those intense eyes. “I still don’t.”
“I won’t say a word. I promise.” I made the cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die sign.
The phone rang in my pocket. I
intended to ignore it, but Xavier asked, “Do you want to get that?”
I hesitated. I needed some time to figure out where all these pieces fit. “Sure. I’ll find you later.”
“Okay. I’ve got to talk with my mom.” When he left to find the surprised grandma, I answered the phone.
The caller was the woman who reserved two rooms for next month. It took her only a moment to explain she was cancelling their visit next week and why. They read the dreadful newspaper account and didn’t dare come to a “crime scene.”
I was still too stunned from Xavier’s revelation to do more than nod my head, much less realize I was on the phone. I actually thanked the woman for cancelling and stared at the phone for long moments before I dropped it back into my pocket.
I sank down on the window seat, where Liz found me a few minutes later. “Oh, my gosh, you missed the big blowup. Martha was just up in Alexis’s room, ranting and raving about Alexis’s little boy being illegitimate, and how could she have the baby and not tell Martha? What is that all about, anyway?”
I told her Martha was Xavier’s mother, Xavier admitted Alexis’s baby was his, and Martha was one of those women who have a hard time accepting being a grandparent.
“My gosh, and I thought this first weekend was going to be boring.” Liz shook her head. “Lonny was really surprised Xavier had a child because he said Xavier confided to him that he’s gay. I just told Lonny some people swing both ways.”
Stunned, I stood still for a moment. Then I took a deep breath. “I’m swinging, too. At the end of my rope.”
“Vicki, you don’t look well at all. Do you want me to have Grandma fix you up some of her fix-everything elixir?”
“What? The hundred-proof stuff?” Only a slight exaggeration. Grandma didn’t drink, but she could whip up a wicked, hot, fix-whatever-ails-you-so-you-sleep-for-hours toddy.
I suddenly wondered if she brewed one for Alexis.
* * *
Soon afterward, the Inn grew quiet. Peacefully, blissfully, wonderfully so. As Liz said, the murderer was arrested. Everyone was relaxing. No “What-if?” games from the authors. Everyone was either off skiing or packing. The peroxide didn’t mean anything.
David shooed us from the kitchen, saying tonight’s dinner for the family was a state secret— he could let us watch, but then he’d have to kill us. I was still amazed to have a handsome man cooking in my kitchen. I often fantasized about such a thing.
So we shooed, out of the kitchen and into the library. That was where Dr. Ray found us, autographed his books for me, and told both Liz and me goodbye, even going so far as to take my hand and kiss it. Wow. He kissed Liz’s hand, too, but he thanked me for being such a gracious hostess, considering everything that happened. I felt honored.
Next, Dr. Ray gave Grandma her goodbye. They made a handsome old couple, in front of the stained-glass inlaid doors. We knew because we peeked around the door in time to see him plant a kiss on her cheek. I sure hoped Grandma could handle the heartbreak. She certainly seemed smitten. And now he was flying out of her life, back to his writing loft in Trenton, New Jersey.
BJ called a cab earlier and left to visit Kevin in the hospital before going to pick up Cece, whom she decided to take care of while her father was in jail.
David came out of the kitchen and informed me he had to buy a few more ingredients that I didn’t have on hand, and would return soon.
Alexis also had a plane to catch and was upstairs packing. She was anxious to get back to her little boy, and I didn’t blame her one bit.
All of the others— Bonnie, Martha, Clark, and Garrett— left for Snow Haven to hit the slopes before flying out.
In this new quiet, Liz and I wandered into the parlor. But the quiet didn’t last. Grandma entered. Noisily. Grumbling. Stomping her feet. She missed Dr. Ray already. However, her comment wasn’t about her lost love, but about something else she lost. “My gun’s missing.”
“You lost your gun?” I asked incredulously, never ceasing to be amazed by the woman who’d given birth to my father.
Apparently, Liz wasn’t savoring the quiet as much as I, as she responded with a teasing, “What about your marbles, Grandma?”
I spoke sharply. “Where could your gun be, Grandma?”
They both looked at me, surprised.
“Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice, Vicki, dear,” Grandma said. “I wanted you to know so you could watch for it while I take a nap.”
Liz shook her head, catching my tension. “We need to find that gun.”
The doorbell rang. I peeked out the window and groaned. “It’s the Ungers, here to home teach me. You keep looking.” This was definitely not a good time for home teachers.
* * *
In their late seventies, they looked like opposites. Walter had no hair and Phyllis had lovely, tight, blue curls. He was six feet tall and she was barely five. He always looked serious and she was always smiling. She had a floor mat on their porch that proclaimed: “A nice person and a grouch live here.”
We barely seated ourselves in the parlor when Walter got started again about their newest grandbaby, and her crazy name. Phyllis informed me that Taelor was, indeed, a most adorable little girl and Walter had better get used to the name. The “or else” was implied.
Walter took a different tack. “How is everything with you?” A fairly standard home teacher question, followed by a not-so-standard, “I mean, we can’t believe about the murder and all. I’m sorry we came so early, but we have to miss church today because we’re heading back down south.”
They asked me to explain everything, and it took me over fifteen minutes to do so, during which they murmured “Oh, my word!” and “You don’t say!” quite a few times.
Then Walter said the one thing that would change everything. Funny how just a little string of words can do that. He said, “We took in a man without a coat on the evening of the murder. We didn’t know it was the night of the murder at the time, of course, because the murder hadn’t happened yet. Anyway, this man crashed his pickup into our big, old pine tree in that storm.” Then he proceeded to describe Kevin. Long. Tall. Lanky. And going on about his precious Bobbi Jo like some fool lunatic.
My mouth went dry. “What time was that?”
“Oh, right after dinner on Friday, don’t you reckon, Mother?” Walter glanced at his wife.
Phyllis nodded. “He came in with us and we warmed him up, and I fed him. Must have been nearly six-thirty. Yes, it was, because we were watching some silly program. Anyway, the man stayed with us until Saturday afternoon. He was here when Walter called you.”
So the person Phyllis was enticing to eat in the background on the phone was Kevin? Kevin was at their house from before the time of the murder until well after?
If that were true, Kevin could not possibly be the murderer.
Why on earth didn’t Kevin tell Paul about this? Or Bobbi Jo, when he spoke to her? After all, it was only his freaking alibi. Did he not want Bobbi Jo to know he wrecked the truck? Or did he tell the police and they thought the Ungers weren’t home, so they blew him off?
Slightly panicked, I asked, “Did you tell the police when they stopped by?” I knew they went through the neighborhood talking to all my neighbors.
“Why, no,” Walter said. “We haven’t spoken with the police. I guess they thought we still weren’t home, and the power was out, so there were no lights when they were going down asking questions of the neighbors. And you know, if we’re downstairs we can’t hear the doorbell. Not that the doorbell would have sounded, anyway, with the power out.”
Walter pointed to my coat rack. “Fact is, I wouldn’t have thought of it now except I just saw the coat I loaned the man hanging on one of your hooks.”
The police gave Kevin a different coat when they took him to town. A convict’s bright yellow-orange one. I turned to see Walter’s coat, loaned to Kevin— the familiar-looking one I couldn’t place earlier, but now realized I’d seen on Walter before�
�� hanging there innocently enough.
“Walter, I think you’d better call the police,” I said.
“You’re right.” Walter nodded in agreement. “Come on, Mother, get your coat. We’ll go home and do that very thing.”
They rose and hugged me, and Walter left his coat for the police to check.
As they went out the door, I began looking for my phone. I was going to call Paul and get him back up here.
Everything went terribly wrong again, and the adrenaline hit my system with a punch.
They arrested the wrong lunatic!
* * *
I couldn’t reach Paul, so I left an urgent message to call me immediately, I had important news! Kevin had an alibi so the murderer was still loose! I wished Paul left the police radio here.
I was feeling panicky. Whom did I dare trust? Who was still here at the Inn? Alexis was upstairs packing. Grandma was probably asleep by now, while Liz was no doubt still searching for Grandma’s lost gun.
I tried to calm myself. The murderer was at the ski slopes. It had to be Garrett. Why else would he have threatened Zach? I had time to wait for Paul to get here. I tried to talk myself into believing I was safe. I could just go about my normal day until he arrived.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look at my list of things to do. It was Sunday, so the list was short and I’d done everything on it already.
I tidied up the check-in counter area, my heart still pounding. I moved the stack of novels Lonny had so thoughtfully brought me to the top of the counter so I could remember to get autographs from everyone.
And, since Alexis was still here, I might as well have her sign her books before she left for the airport, especially since I planned to give two of her autographed books to Jennifer for an after-baby present, and keep the other two for the Inn.
I’d already gotten Dr. Ray’s signature and planned to give his book to Grandma for her birthday.
Upstairs, I knocked on the door of the Jessica Fletcher, and Alexis opened up.
Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn Page 24
