“I will, but then I’m staying here with you. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Do you think there’s a chance this was an accident?”
Sage continued to stare at the icy mask. “Not a chance.”
Ten minutes later, Chief of Police Nate Edgerton, in one of the two Snowflake police cruisers, pulled up at the other end of the alley on Elm Street. He parked, blocking the alleyway, and trudged through the snow to reach them. The curious were already starting to gather around the police car.
Nate stared at the frozen, seemingly disembodied head and then turned to Lucky and Sage. “This is just great,” he muttered sarcastically. “Anybody know who she is?”
“She’s a tourist, that much I know,” Lucky volunteered. “I forget her name—Patricia something. It escapes me now. She comes in almost every day.”
Nate shook his head. “This is bad. This is real bad. Was she staying up at the Lodge?”
Lucky thought a moment. “The hotel at the Resort? No. Somebody mentioned it. Marjorie, maybe. I think she was staying in a house up on Bear Path Lane.”
Nate turned to Sage. “You know her?”
Sage shook his head. “No. Like Lucky said, she was a customer here a lot. Always ordered pretty much the same thing.” Lucky stared at Sage, remembering the way he had stopped in his tracks when he spotted the blonde in the restaurant. Was he lying? Did he know more that he wasn’t willing to tell?
Janie and Meg flew out the back door to see what the commotion was about. Janie stared, clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed back inside. Meg was riveted by the sight. Nate turned to her. “You shouldn’t be out here, young lady. Go stay inside. I’ll talk to you later.” Meg nodded and retreated to join Janie.
Nate scratched his head. “I’ll call Eleanor Jensen. If she rented the house to this woman, maybe she’ll know who the next of kin might be.” He glanced down the alleyway at his cruiser, debating whether to trudge back to his radio or use the phone at the Spoonful. “Can you two stay here for a minute? I’ll use your phone if that’s okay.”
“Go right ahead. Use the one in the office,” Lucky replied.
Nate was back in a short minute to stand watch over the body until his deputy and a van could arrive. “You don’t happen to know what kind of a car she drove, do you?”
Lucky was at a loss. “No—no idea.”
“Well, if she was living on Bear Path Lane and going up to the Resort, she’d have to have one. We’ll find it eventually. You two go inside. No point in all of us freezing.”
Lucky and Sage headed back to the warmth of the Spoonful. She noticed that Jack had turned over the sign on the front door to read CLOSED, but he was nowhere in sight. Sage returned to the kitchen and stood staring at the pots warming on the stove. Finally, he turned the burners off and started to wipe down the counters. “Are we closed, boss?” he called out.
“Yes,” she replied. “Probably best for now.”
JACK SAT ON a small step stool in the storage pantry, his arms raised protectively over his head, his shoulders hunched, his eyes squeezed shut. He heard the screams of the men, saw the telltale flow of red beneath the waves. He couldn’t get to them fast enough. If the torpedo hadn’t killed them, then the sharks already circling soon would, tearing off limbs and ending lives. It was one thing to put your life on the line to fight for your country, but to die like this, torn apart by an atavistic creature of the deep—no one had signed on for this. He hadn’t signed on for pulling mauled bodies out of the sea either, but it was something that had to be done.
Jack whimpered and took deep breaths. He knew what was happening to him. He knew there was some fancy name for it now—some kind of initials—something they never talked about at the time. They were kids when they signed up. After, everyone just wanted to go home and do their best to heal. He took another deep breath, struggling by a sheer act of will to shut out the screams. He had to keep going—for Lucky. If he fell apart now, she wouldn’t stand a chance—and this place was all the poor girl had. No family now—only him, and he was a sad excuse for that. An old man, a widower, living alone in a cottage that had seen better days. It was that woman—seeing her and the blood on the snow—like the blood in the sea. Places blood shouldn’t be.
Lucky called his name and walked down the corridor, peeking into the office. Jack wouldn’t have left without telling her. He wasn’t in the restaurant and there were no places to hide. Lucky walked the length of the corridor and pulled open the door to the big pantry where their supplies and nonperishables were kept. Jack was sitting on a stool, shaking all over.
“Jack!” Lucky approached him slowly. “Jack, what is it?”
“Sharks,” he muttered. “Damn sharks—there’s blood in the water. Couldn’t fight ’em off.”
Lucky stroked his arm gently. He had only once spoken about his time in the Pacific, of the nightmares he still had, of the cries of men attacked by sharks circling in the water. Tears sprang to her eyes. “It’s all right, Jack. We got them all. You don’t have to worry anymore. The sharks are gone.” Jack’s breathing slowed and eventually he turned to her.
“Lucky. I’m sorry.” That was a good sign, wasn’t it? she thought. At least Jack recognized his present reality.
“Nothing to be sorry for. Let’s go out front, okay?” Lucky led him out to the restaurant and helped him into a chair.
“Sometimes…” he whispered. Lucky leaned closer to him. “Sometimes it all comes back.” He rubbed his face with work-roughened hands.
“Stay here. I’ll pour us some coffee.”
Lucky returned with two fresh cups and placed them on the table. Janie and Meg were perched on stools at the counter, unsure what to do next.
Lucky heard a loud rapping on the front door. Marjorie and Cecily had come for their usual morning tea and croissants and realized something was terribly wrong. Now they were impatient for news. They stood outside the window anxiously waving to her. She sighed and opened the door for them. “Come on in. It’s too cold to stay out there.”
“What’s going on?” Marjorie asked. “I saw Nate in the police car and the van. But that annoying deputy of his—what’s his name—Bradley—wouldn’t let us down the alleyway. What’s happened?”
Cecily chimed in, “Why did you close? What’s going on?”
Lucky started to speak. “We…we found…” Before she could complete her thought, another sharp rap came at the door. Hank and Barry had walked over to the Spoonful together. She might as well let them in and tell everyone together so she would only have to give the terrible news once. It’d be all over town in a few minutes anyway.
When they learned who the victim was, Marjorie gasped and Cecily put her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry. Hank and Barry fell silent.
“I’m sorry to close up. But under the circumstances, it was best. Sage has put everything away, but I can offer you some coffee.”
“Coffee would be great,” Hank replied, unwinding his scarf from his neck and rubbing his hands together for warmth. Hank was tall and scarecrow thin, partially bald, with a halo of gray hair. He wore pince-nez glasses so low on his long nose he was forced to tilt his head up to look at the person he was talking to.
“You sit down, dear,” Marjorie offered to Lucky. “You’ve had a shock. Cecily and I will get everything.” She bustled into the kitchen, her sister following in her wake.
Lucky called to Janie and Meg at the counter. “Why don’t you girls grab some coffee and sit with us for a bit? I know Nate will want to talk to you.” The girls slipped off their stools and pulled chairs over to the large round table.
The back door slammed and heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor. Nate entered the restaurant. He scowled at the gathering of locals.
“Folks, I’m gonna need to talk to some of you. Lucky, can I use your office?”
“Sure, Nate.”
Nate leaned through the hatch into the kitchen and gestured to Sage. Sage followed Nate down the hall to the off
ice.
Marjorie returned carrying a tray of cups, saucers and a full coffeepot. “Good thing Susanna wasn’t with us. Her husband would have a fit if she were here.”
“He’s such a hardhead, he’d probably arrest his own wife for interfering with a police investigation,” Cecily replied.
Barry stood. “Ladies, I’ll do the honors.” Barry was short and portly. His checkered shirt barely stayed buttoned over his midsection, but he was light on his feet and circled the table passing out cups and saucers and pouring coffee for everyone. Lucky looked down at her hands. They were still shaking. She was very grateful to be waited on for a change.
Marjorie leaned across the table and whispered, “This is so shocking! Nothing like this has ever happened in Snowflake. But frankly, I’m not surprised.” Hank gave Marjorie a stern look as if to warn her not to speak ill of the dead.
Cecily nodded vigorously and joined in. “I told Marjorie just the other day—that woman was asking for trouble. She gave every man she saw the eye. She didn’t care if he was taken or not! That woman was a genuine trollop and now she’s brought trouble to our little town. We’ll all be suspicious of outsiders until the murderer is caught.”
Hank spoke up. “And what if it’s not an outsider?”
Marjorie bristled. “Whatever do you mean, Hank? Of course it’s not one of us. People in Snowflake just don’t do that kind of thing.”
Barry and Hank exchanged a careful dubious glance.
Cecily asked, “Did she come in yesterday? Remember? We’ve noticed on Tuesdays, she always gets food for two.”
“She was here, as I recall, but yesterday was Monday. Jack? Did you notice her order?”
Jack rubbed his chin. “I don’t remember what it was. The girls will. Janie packed it, I think.”
Sage reappeared with his coat slung over his shoulder. “Nate wants to see Janie and Meg next—together.” The girls rose from their seats, obviously nervous. “Boss, if you’re closed, do you still need me?”
Lucky pushed back her chair and walked over to him. “No. I’ll be fine. Thanks, Sage.”
“For what?”
“For staying with me out there. I appreciate it. We’ll open again tomorrow as usual. And let’s hope things get back to normal.”
Sage nodded and headed out the front door without another word. Lucky noticed he avoided his usual exit at the back. She rejoined the group at the table.
“I heard she was seeing one of the young ski instructors up at the Lodge,” Barry said, slowly stirring cream into his coffee.
“Where’d you hear that?” Hank demanded.
“My neighbor works up there—bartending. He tells me all the news.”
“Hmmph.” Hank snorted. “Some people have nothing better to do than to mind other people’s business.”
Barry bristled. “You just wait. The Chief will be asking lots of questions and that’s exactly what he’ll want to hear.”
Janie and Meg hurried down the hall and came through the swinging door. “Nate says we can go now. Is that all right with you, Lucky?”
“Yes. Please. Go on home. There’s nothing much we can do here today. See you tomorrow morning, all right?”
Both girls nodded and slipped out the front door, not waiting for any further instructions. Lucky wondered if their families would object to their returning. If they did, she couldn’t imagine how she’d manage a full house without them.
Nate returned to the front room and glared at the visitors. Marjorie and Cecily busied themselves putting on their coats and hats, obviously taking the hint they weren’t welcome at the moment. Marjorie turned to Lucky. “You stop down to see us soon, dear. Those nice things are going fast.”
Nate jerked his head at Barry to indicate it was time to go, and he and Hank rose from the table. When everyone had said their good-byes, Nate grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee, sitting heavily in the seat Hank had just vacated.
“Now. What can you tell me about this woman?”
Jack spoke first. “Not much, except she came in just about every day either for lunch or to pick up orders to go. Never really spoke to her. She always created quite a stir when she came in, but other than her name, I don’t know much.”
“You ever see her up at the Resort?”
“I never go there, Nate, you know that.”
“Hmmm. I gather she was pretty friendly with a lot of men in town.”
Lucky shrugged her shoulders. “To tell you the truth, I’ve never seen her with anyone. Sometimes tongues wag just because someone’s a stranger. You know how that is.”
“Any idea how she ended up in back of the Spoonful?”
“No,” Lucky answered. “We closed up early last night because of the storm. The last customers left about five o’clock. No one else was venturing out so I sent everyone home.”
“So nobody went out the back way when you closed up?”
“Well, I guess we all did. Jack, me, Sage.”
“And you didn’t notice anything unusual then?”
“I didn’t. But it was dark and I wasn’t looking for anything. Sage generally puts the last of the garbage in the Dumpster before we close, but I don’t think he did last night. That’s why he was out there this morning. Are you saying you think she was already there when we left the Spoonful?”
“Won’t know that for sure till we have a better time of death. The cold has thrown everything off, but we’ll know more after an autopsy. What about this morning when you all arrived? Did anyone notice the body then?”
“No. I came in through the front. The alleyway hadn’t been plowed. Just easier to use the front door—we probably all did. Nate, this couldn’t have anything to do with us. Nobody here would have wished her any harm. And I can’t imagine what she’d be doing in the alleyway at all.”
“Did she come into the Spoonful yesterday?”
“We were just talking about that. She did—and picked up an order to go.”
Jack said, “That’s right. I remember now. She didn’t take her change.”
“Okay then.” Nate lumbered to his feet. “We should have things cleared up back there pretty soon.” Nate looked from Jack to Lucky. “If either of you think of anything at all, you give me a call, all right?”
Lucky nodded. “We will, Nate. I just hope this doesn’t scare our customers away.”
“Be a lot better for your business if she hadn’t been found here, I’ll tell you that.” Nate turned and headed back to his duties in the alleyway.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Lucky turned to Jack. “This is not what we needed.”
“I know it isn’t. But there isn’t much we can do about it now, is there? Why don’t we close up, take the day off and start fresh in the morning?”
Lucky sighed. “No choice, I guess.” She double-checked that the front door was locked, turned off the lights, checked the stove in the kitchen and followed Jack down the hallway to the back door, locking it behind her.
Nate, his deputy and another officer were gathered around the body of Patricia Honeywell. Lucky was surprised to see Elias with them. He looked up and walked over to where she stood.
“Lucky, I’m sorry you had to see this.”
“Why did they call you?”
“They wanted me to have a look before they moved her.”
“Oh.” Lucky glanced over unwillingly. The fresh snow had been shoveled away from the body. The rest had been carefully brushed aside to reveal the blonde woman propped with her back against the Dumpster, dark blood frozen on one side of her face and neck, her legs splayed out in front of her. She was dressed all in black with a short fur jacket, not the expensive ski outfit Lucky had noticed at the Spoonful.
Nate grumbled to his deputy, “Keep looking…”
Elias shifted his position, attempting to block the dreadful sight from her. “Lucky, you should leave. You really don’t want to be here for the rest of this.”
Chapter 11
LUCKY STOOD B
EHIND the counter staring disconsolately at an empty restaurant. Janie’s mother had called that morning to say that Janie would not be returning—at least for the time being. Meg had turned up, but against her family’s wishes. Lucky was sure her crush on Sage had been the driving force.
Sage, realizing very quickly that they wouldn’t be overwhelmed with customers this morning, had prepared only smaller batches of soup in three Crock-Pots. One lone bakery loaf was warming in the oven. A layer of ice had formed on the sidewalk overnight. Jack had patiently scraped it away, then returned to his newspaper and the warmth of the restaurant.
To Lucky’s dismay, not one customer arrived. Obviously, the discovery of Patricia Honeywell’s body was the talk of the town and news of it had reached the winter visitors. It wasn’t a surprise that tourists might stay away, but where were Barry and Hank or Marjorie and Cecily at least?
Through the steamy windows Lucky spotted a figure in a long red scarf approaching the front door. Her spirits lifted—perhaps a customer to break the spell. The front door banged open and Janie rushed in.
“Oh, Lucky, I’m so sorry. I can’t work right now. My mother had a fit, but I wanted to stop by anyway.”
Lucky shrugged. “I understand. You can’t really blame her. She must be frightened out of her wits. I’d feel the same if I were her.”
“She’s just so stubborn,” Janie grumbled. “She wouldn’t even listen to me. I know this had nothing to do with the Spoonful.”
“I agree. It couldn’t have anything to do with us. Unfortunately, it’s landed on our doorstep, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
“Is it okay if I hang out and talk to Meg?”
“Go right ahead. We’re anything but busy.”
The girls grabbed the corner table usually occupied by Hank and Barry and began a whispered conversation.
Lucky returned to scrubbing the work space behind the counter. This was a good opportunity to catch up on chores if nothing else. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Nate’s police cruiser had pulled up in front of the Spoonful. If Nate and Bradley wanted coffee or breakfast, she had no objection, but she couldn’t help but wish they had parked somewhere else. A police car at the front door wouldn’t help their image one bit. Lucky watched as Nate heaved himself out of the passenger seat and headed for their front door, Bradley bringing up the rear. The bell over the door rang as they entered.
A Spoonful of Murder Page 5
