“You would do that for us?”
“Of course I would. I don’t think he did it and I think he’s been wrongly accused.”
“I do too. If you really mean that, I’ll give you a call soon.” Sophie hesitated, then said, “I know she was fooling around with a couple of the guys at the Resort—a ski instructor and another guy. I don’t know how far anything went or if it was serious. Somehow I don’t think so—at least on her part. But I’ll ask around and see what I can find out.” Sophie pulled the front door open and then turned back. “Lucky, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being so hateful for so long.”
“It’s gone and forgotten.”
“No, I mean it.” Sophie grasped her hand and whispered, “I was just so jealous of you.”
“Of me?”
Sophie nodded. “You had everything I wanted—a family that cared about you. A chance to go to school—everything…Sage is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. This is my chance and I don’t want anybody to take it away.”
“Sophie…” Lucky couldn’t think what to say in response to such naked honesty. “It’s all in the past. I mean that. Just find out whatever you can and let me know.”
CECILY HAD SPREAD the word through town and on Saturday morning the Spoonful finally had its first customers since the discovery of the murder victim. She and Marjorie both arrived for their morning tea and croissants. Julie, the pastry chef from Bettie’s Bakery, had stopped by at lunch to ask if they’d be needing any breads or rolls this week. Lucky had to tell her they wouldn’t, but hopefully business would pick up soon. The truth was, they’d be in big trouble if business didn’t pick up—the bills would still need to be paid. Without Sage, she didn’t know how she’d ever be able to manage. For now, she and Jack and their few customers were surviving on soups that Sage had prepared ahead of time and frozen. Once those were gone, she’d have to start cooking herself, and she trembled at the thought. Even Jerold Flagg from the pharmacy had come by at lunch for a bowl of Sage’s Hungarian goulash with dumplings. It gave her some slight hope they’d be able to meet their bills—at least for this month.
Jack sat at the corner table studying Hank and Barry, who were evenly matched in a chess game. He wanted to learn the game, and Hank was giving him blow-by-blow instructions and pointers as the pieces moved. Once the restaurant had cleared, Lucky poured a cup of coffee and joined them.
“Okay, Jack,” Barry said. “Look at this, the rook can move all the way across the board in either direction, but only in a straight line. Like this”—he smiled—“as I take Hank’s bishop.” Barry leaned back in his chair gloating.
Hank groaned. “Why, you rotten so-and-so, I didn’t even see that coming.”
“You’re asleep at the switch, you old fool. I’m beating the pants off you.”
Jack laughed but quickly stopped as Hank shot a dark look in his direction. Hank turned to Barry. “Just for that, you can walk home.”
“What are you talking about? Of course I’ll have to walk home. They haven’t even plowed my street,” he grumbled. “Can you believe that?” He turned to Lucky and Jack. “I’ve complained to the company, but they say their contract with the town ends at the top of the hill. They plow all the way up Bear Path Lane and stop at the corner of Crestline. What’s that about? I’ve gone to the town council and they’ve done nothing. How are we supposed to get our cars out?”
Lucky stopped with her coffee cup halfway to her lips. “What did you say?”
“I said, they refuse to plow my street. They keep telling me they’re contracted to the town and my street is outside the town limit. If Hank wasn’t willing to pick me up at the corner, I’d be snowbound. Just ridiculous!”
“No, I mean what you said before about Bear Path Lane.”
“That’s the one they plow and they stop when they get to the top of the hill. Why?”
“That’s the road where Patricia Honeywell was staying.”
“Oh yes?” Barry asked. “Which house?”
“The log cabin with the big windows at the back.”
Hank nodded. “That’s right. I’ve seen that red Jeep she used to drive around town parked in front.”
Lucky asked casually, “Ever see any other cars parked there?”
Barry snickered. “I’m sure there were a few.”
Hank ignored him. “Tell you the truth, I never took much interest. But, now that you mention it, I was driving home up the hill one night a few weeks ago and somebody pulled out of that driveway in a big hurry.” He turned to Barry. “Remember? I told you about it the next day. Scared the life out of me. I had to slam on my brakes. I thought he was going to crash right into me.”
“He?”
Hank’s eyes widened. “Oh, I just meant the generic ‘he.’”
“You didn’t see who was driving?”
“Nah, it was dark and the lights blinded me. We both stopped and then he backed up and I passed. I had forgotten about it till you mentioned it.”
“What kind of a car was it? Do you remember?”
“Well, I didn’t get a license number if that’s what you mean, but it was a sedan, compact size, kind of a light color, like white or silver, which is probably why it stood out in the dark.”
He looked up sharply at Barry. “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re not gonna get away with it.” He moved a piece to protect his queen. “Ya see, Jack, if I hadn’t done that, his bishop could move diagonally and take my queen and that would be it—that’s all she wrote.” Jack nodded, studiously concentrating on the moves the men were making.
Lucky heard the phone ringing in the office. She left her coffee cup on the table and hurried down the hall to grab it in time. She was half hoping it might be Elias, calling to ask about another date. Breathless, she grabbed it on the fourth ring, just before the answering machine clicked in.
“It’s me,” Sophie said. “Can you come up to the Lodge tonight? There’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”
“Okay.” Lucky knew this wasn’t just a social call. It had to have something to do with her promise to help Sage.
“Eight o’clock. We’ll be in the bar.”
“I can make that.” Lucky was sure that if any more customers showed up this afternoon, they’d be long gone before eight o’clock.
“See you then.” Sophie disconnected.
Lucky replaced the receiver. Who was it Sophie wanted her to meet? Someone who had information about Honeywell? Had to be. She was heartened to think there was a chance she and Sophie could be close friends again. More importantly, she sincerely hoped Sophie’s heart would not be crushed. If she could prove Sage innocent, Sophie would have a chance at the life she wanted.
Chapter 18
LUCKY COULDN’T HELP the niggling envy she felt when she surveyed the après-ski crowd at the Mountain Retreat bar. She scanned the noisy denizens. They appeared without worries, relaxed, drinking and sociable. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, yet this was a crowd of strangers to the town of Snowflake—another world existing at the top of the mountain.
The raftered ceiling was high, yet the dark woods and dim lighting created a warm ambience. A double-hearth fireplace of rustic stone dominated the center of the room, the bar stretching out behind that. Lucky skirted the fireplace and spotted Sophie at the bar. Her curly dark hair stood out against her red sweater. She was nursing a cocktail and talking to a tall, good-looking guy in a ski parka. She approached slowly, wondering if this was the reason for Sophie’s call. Sophie was talking and gesturing in an animated fashion and at the same time scanning the room. She spotted Lucky and waved her over, moving down one stool so Lucky could sit between her and the man in the ski parka.
She skipped any preamble. “Lucky, this is Josh—he teaches here too. Josh—Lucky.”
“Hi,” Josh said, flashing a well-crafted smile.
“Tell her what you told me today,” Sophie announced.
Josh’s face shifted, betrayi
ng momentary confusion, suddenly realizing there was more to this meeting at the bar than he had expected. That was just like Sophie, Lucky thought. Direct, but never really open.
“Hey, come on. This isn’t for public consumption.” He flashed a warning look in Sophie’s direction. “I asked you not to say anything.”
Sophie’s lips tightened. “Get off your high horse and just tell her what you told me about Patsy Honeywell.”
Josh’s eyes narrowed. Silent signals flashed through the air, but Sophie was determined and Josh finally seemed to realize that. He sighed and turned to Lucky. “I was seeing her—kinda off and on. She was a lot of fun. But it was nothin’ serious.”
“Seeing her secretly?” Lucky asked.
“Oh no. She wasn’t exactly shy.” He snickered into his glass.
Lucky flashed a look at Sophie, who appeared intent on her cocktail and had seemingly tuned out. “So why don’t you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t want to have to answer a lot of questions. I don’t want the cops crawling all over me.”
Sophie laughed mirthlessly. “The cops aren’t even awake if you ask me.”
“But wasn’t she seeing other guys too?” It was very quick, but a momentary shadow flashed across Josh’s face.
“I don’t know,” he grumbled, placing his drink on the polished bar. “To tell you the truth, she kinda dumped me. One night…” He grimaced. “One night I got a little drunk and showed up at her place. Maybe I was more than a little drunk, I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“She opened the door but she wouldn’t let me in. She was really pissed off. I was pretty sure there was another guy with her.”
“Did you see him?”
Josh shook his head. “Nah, don’t know who it was. I saw a car in the driveway, another one besides hers, and I guess I got kinda mad.” He looked up from his drink. Lucky thought about how young he looked, younger than she had initially thought, his youth obvious once he dropped the façade of the dashing ski bum. “I was a real jerk, I admit. I was banging on the door—I guess I knew I had had too much to drink but I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Do you remember what kind of a car you saw?”
Josh shrugged. “No. No idea, really.”
“Try.”
Josh shrugged. “I don’t know. It was light colored—maybe a kinda metallic color.”
Sophie sat quietly, intently watching their exchange.
“Do you remember anything else about the car?”
Josh’s lips twisted slightly as he stared into his glass. “There was a sticker on the back bumper.”
“What did the sticker look like? Can you remember?” Lucky had the feeling that if she kept pushing him, he’d recall something useful.
“Just a sticker—like a parking permit. It was blue and white, or white with three or four big blue numbers, and there was a word…like Wood something, Wood…I don’t know. The only reason I remember that was ’cause I slipped on the ice trying to get back to my car and I grabbed onto the back bumper to get up on my feet. I told ya, I was an idiot. Didn’t realize how drunk I was—otherwise I would never have gone to her house like that. I should’ve known I wouldn’t be welcome—or there’d be another guy there. Didn’t really think it through.” He shrugged. “That’s really all I remember.”
He finished his drink in one gulp and shot Sophie a look. “Look, I don’t want this to get around, and I also don’t want the cops asking me any questions. I’ve got a good thing goin’ here. If she got herself murdered, it’s no skin off my nose.” He slipped a ten-dollar bill on the bar and flashed Sophie a lopsided smile. “Next time you ask me to have a drink with you, remind me to say no.”
Josh turned and headed for the exit to the lobby, ignoring a wave from one of the men seated by the fireplace. Lucky turned to Sophie. “Hope this doesn’t cause you any problems.”
Sophie waved her hand in the air dismissively. “He’ll get over it. Not my fault if he jumped to the wrong conclusion when I asked him to have a drink.” She smiled impishly. “I just wanted you to hear that story from the horse’s mouth. It’s not that I think Josh bashed her head in, but I’d guess she was seeing somebody else and maybe that was serious…and maybe that somebody else got real jealous.”
“Lots of maybes,” Lucky replied.
Sophie waved the bartender over. “What’ll you have, Lucky?”
Lucky shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood to relax. “A coffee’d be great.” The bartender nodded and moved away.
“Apparently she had a habit of picking up two orders to go from the Spoonful on Tuesdays. I wasn’t all that observant of her order, or rather I didn’t think much about it, but Marjorie and Cecily—you remember them?”
Sophie nodded. “Oh yeah, the two sisters at the Off Broadway.” She snorted. “Not much they’d miss.”
“They were…well…gossiping, I guess you’d say…”
“Quelle surprise!” Sophie remarked sarcastically.
Lucky ignored her remark and continued. “They told me she always picked up a double order on Tuesdays but nobody could figure out who she was meeting or getting together with.”
“Maybe she has a big appetite.”
Lucky laughed. “You know, that’s exactly what I said.”
“And I can just imagine what those two had to say.”
Lucky continued. “Whoever she was with, it must have been rather secretive if nobody in town had an inkling.”
“Damn.” Sophie slammed her drink on the bar, spilling a few drops. “That’s what I can’t stand. Everybody’s in your business. It’s unbelievable.”
Lucky shrugged. “There are worse things. It’s annoying, but at least people look out for one another.”
“I guess. But wouldn’t you think somebody would have noticed who Honeywell was seeing?”
“You would think. And why stay up on Bear Path Lane and not at the Resort? Apparently she wanted her privacy, or at least that’s the reason she gave Eleanor Jensen when she rented the house.”
Sophie shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe somebody whose reputation would be ruined. Maybe somebody whose marriage would blow up.” Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “What was it the sisters said to you? Only Tuesdays?” Sophie looked thoughtful. “That definitely sounds like a guy who’s married—like that’s the night he tells his wife he’s bowling with the boys, or some such nonsense.”
“How did you get to meet Honeywell?” Lucky asked.
Sophie’s lips twisted. “Patsy Honeywell—that woman was a witch! She ran a number on me about how she admired my technique and could she hire me for some privates and so on—money was no issue. The first lesson, I realize now, was a setup. She pretended to be having trouble with certain moves. The second time we got together it was obvious she didn’t need any coaching. She was an expert skier. She only hired me ’cause she had some ax to grind with Sage. She really wanted to cause trouble between us. Whatever was behind it, I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me, but she made it obvious she was thrilled to run into him again—like whatever was going on before could be going on now. I was furious. And she enjoyed watching me squirm. I would have been happy to do her in myself!”
“What did Sage say when you asked him?”
“He swore up and down he hated her and he’d just as soon see her dead.”
Chapter 19
LUCKY FLIPPED THROUGH a three-year-old magazine about early childhood parenting. Considering the wealth of information about the care of infants, she decided that keeping a failing business going was far less complicated than caring for an infant. No wonder she never liked playing with dolls. Jack shifted uncomfortably in the vinyl chair next to hers. He was bundled up in his jacket and refused to take it off.
Rosemary, the receptionist at the Clinic, put down the phone and smiled at them. “Shouldn’t be much longer. Dr. Scott will be ready for you soon.” Lucky was temporarily taken aback to hear Elias referred to so formally—“Dr. Scott”
had such an impressive sound.
She had questioned Jack about his medical care and learned he hadn’t seen a doctor in almost ten years. He looked a little sheepish admitting that, but immediately countered with the remark that he was as strong as an ox and better off staying away from doctors. It took some convincing, but he finally agreed to have a wellness checkup when Lucky insisted. She was fortunate to be able to get him in first thing on Monday morning, usually a very busy day at the Clinic. Jack wasn’t happy about any of it, and she was there with him to make sure he kept his appointment.
He shifted around in his chair and leaned over to whisper, “Lucky, my girl, none of this is necessary. I’m as healthy as the proverbial horse.”
“Thought it was an ox.”
“Ox then, Miss Smarty Pants,” he grumbled. Rosemary looked up from her counter and smiled in their direction. Jack nodded to her.
“I know you are. I just want you to have an annual physical—have everything checked out. It’s important.”
“I’m not sick, Lucky—I just get confused sometimes. It’s my nerves—that’s all it is.”
Lucky put down her magazine and reached over to squeeze his hand. “I know, Jack. Just humor me, okay? You’re all the family I have now, and I want to make sure you have an annual checkup and a doctor who knows your history.”
A buzzer rang on Rosemary’s desk. She picked up the phone and said, “Okay, thanks.” She looked over at Jack. “The nurse is on her way now.” Jack, impatient, heaved a sigh and rose from his chair.
Lucky tossed the magazine back in the rack. “I’ll be waiting right here for you.”
A smiling woman in a pink uniform, her brown gray hair pulled back in a bun, pushed open the door and spotted Jack. “Mr. Jamieson? Hello. Please come right this way.” Jack glanced back at Lucky. He looked as if he were heading to a gallows. Lucky gave him an encouraging smile.
The waiting room was empty now. Rosemary had watched their exchange with a sympathetic look. “He’ll be fine. They’ll take his weight and blood pressure, and draw blood for a CBC. Then he can talk to the doctor.”
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