“Stand aside, guys,” the deputy said, and Katie threaded her way through the officials crowding the bathroom. Katie hadn’t seen the finished bathroom, but she had seen it many times during the renovation. The marble floor and white subway tile looked elegant against the gleaming brass. She kept her gaze fixed on anything but the body in the tub. She could see a man’s arm hanging over the edge. She inched forward, allowing her gaze to travel slowly up his pasty flesh, onto his wet shoulder, taking in his stubbled chin, and then—
“Oh my God, it’s Josh Kimper.” She searched the faces around her until she came upon Don’s unsmiling face. “Josh was your guest?”
The dark-haired man nodded.
An officer introduced himself as Deputy Baxter then asked, “What was your relationship with the deceased?”
Katie swallowed. “Uh, I used to work for him. I saw him just yesterday at the marina. He seemed fine.” Arrogant and rude, but healthy enough.
“You worked for him?” the deputy prompted.
“Uh, yes. I was his office manager for a number of years. I left the agency last fall. I own a business here on Victoria Square.” She looked back at Josh’s pale, lifeless body. In death, he’d lost the constant sneer that had usually marred his features. It didn’t make him any more attractive. “Did he have a heart attack?” She remembered how red his face had been during their confrontation the day before.
“That’ll be up to the medical examiner to determine,” the deputy said.
“Poor Marcie,” Katie said quietly.
“Is that his wife?” Deputy Baxter asked.
She nodded and then shook her head. “They’ve got two young daughters. Who will tell her?”
“Someone from the department will make a home visit,” the deputy assured her.
Katie nodded in acknowledgment of the awful task. Josh had been a horrible boss and probably hadn’t been much of a father, but the girls were much too young to lose their daddy.
“Is there anything I can do?” Katie asked.
Baxter shook his head. “We’ll take care of everything from here on out, ma’am.”
Katie shuddered. Ma’am. But then she shouldered her way out of the lovely bathroom to find Don and Nick waiting for her in the hall.
“Are you okay?” Nick asked.
Katie nodded, but Nick stepped forward to give her a hug anyway. When he pulled back, Katie braved a smile. “Thanks.”
“Let’s go downstairs and let the officers do their jobs,” Don suggested.
Again Katie nodded, and let him lead the way. But as she descended the stairs, she couldn’t help but wonder if Josh’s death was a bad omen for Sassy Sally’s. Too many people had lost their lives within the walls of that house. She hoped that Josh Kimper’s death would be the last.
Somehow, she doubted that.
Two
Katie stepped out of the inn’s front entryway and onto the porch that wrapped around the front of Sassy Sally’s. With his left hand wrapped around a cane, Ray Davenport leaned on the gate at the end of the walk, waiting for her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
The older man shrugged. “Waiting for you, of course.” He nodded in the direction of Tanner’s, the Square’s combination bakery and coffee shop. “I’ll treat you to a cup of joe. What do you say?”
“I never turn down anything from Tanner’s,” she said and fell into step as they crossed the parking lot.
“And you found out about the accident at the inn from . . . ?” she asked Davenport. Prior to his retirement some six weeks before, he’d been the Sheriff’s Office’s lead investigator on several murders that had occurred in McKinlay Mill. Katie had intensely disliked the man when they’d first met, but since he was about to become a fixture on Victoria Square, they now shared common ground, surprisingly affably so.
“I heard it on my police scanner. I figured you’d hightail it across the Square like a fly to sh—”
“Don’t say it!” she cried, holding up a hand to stop him.
Davenport shrugged, grabbed the handle on the heavy glass door, and let her precede him into the coffee shop. While they may have been Tanner’s first customers of the day, the heavenly aromas of bread, cakes, donuts, cookies, and scones as well as the scent of fresh-brewed coffee already filled the shop.
“What brings you two in so early in the morning?” Jordan Tanner asked. He was dressed in baker’s whites, with a coffee-stained apron to match. Embroidered in Kelly green thread was the name of the shop.
“We’ve just come from the inn,” Katie said and wandered up to the big glass display counter, taking in the heavenly delights.
“I saw the cops and the ambulance. I hope Nick and Don are okay.”
“They are, but not their first guest.”
“Oh? I thought—”
Katie raised a hand to stave off the same question she’d asked of Nick. “Nonpaying guest, although I didn’t get a straight answer as to why he was there.”
“Was it anyone we know?” Ray asked.
“It was someone I know,” Katie said with chagrin. “My former boss.”
Jordan looked stricken. “I’d better pour you two a couple of large coffees. Will you be wanting anything to go with?” he asked hopefully.
“I’ll have a jelly stick,” Davenport said and nodded in Katie’s direction.
“I’ll have one of those big fat oatmeal cookies, please.”
Tanner nodded and opened the pastry case. “It’s good for you. Full of healthy ingredients like eggs and oatmeal—which is good for lowering cholesterol—and raisins. That’s fruit. All very good for you.”
“Uh-huh,” Katie said, not buying his spiel but not about to change her selection, either.
“Go sit down. I’ll bring you your order.”
Katie nodded, while Davenport hung back to pay. She chose a seat by the window so that she could keep an eye on the goings-on at Sassy Sally’s.
Ray returned to the table. “You got the seat with the view,” he commented and pulled a couple of paper napkins from the chrome holder on the table. He handed one to Katie and then spread one across the table as a place mat for himself. “So, the plot thickens.”
Katie looked up at him.
“You knew the deceased,” he said. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I suspect nothing on this Earth surprises you, Ray.”
He shrugged. “And you’d probably be right.”
“You met Josh,” she reminded the ex-detective. That was when Davenport had been investigating Ezra Hilton’s death just eleven months before.
He nodded, looking toward the counter to see what was taking Jordan so long with their order. “He was an idiot. I’m surprised it took you so long to quit that job.”
“In retrospect, me, too.”
Jordan finally arrived with a tray laden with their coffee and pastries, which he dutifully doled out.
“Thanks,” Katie said.
“Eat hearty,” Jordan said and left them alone, although Katie knew he’d be standing behind the counter pretending to work while he listened to their every word. She didn’t mind. She had nothing to hide.
“So you haven’t seen the poor bastard since you quit your job, right?” Davenport said, removing the cap from his cup and blowing on the contents.
“I saw him yesterday, as a matter of fact. I’d been out on the lake sailing with Seth Landers. Josh was on the dock, as annoying as ever.”
“And the cause of death was?”
“Probably a heart attack. Josh always was the epitome of a type A personality. He was uptight all the time. Stress up the wazoo—self-made stress, I might add.”
“Will you go to the wake?”
Katie removed the cap to her cup. She dumped in creamer and picked up the plastic stir stick to mix it in. “I don’t t
hink so. I’d feel like a hypocrite.”
“I assume he had a wife?”
Katie took a tentative sip of her coffee, found it too hot, and set the cup down again. “Marcie. And two young daughters. I always felt sorry for her. She seemed far too nice to be stuck with Josh as a life partner. Then again . . .” Katie frowned. “I wonder what Josh was doing at the inn and not with Marcie on a holiday weekend.”
“Maybe she went out of town with the kids,” Davenport speculated.
“Maybe,” Katie repeated, unconvinced.
“You aren’t thinking of calling her or anything, are you?” Davenport asked.
“Why would I?”
He shrugged. “You’ve got a good heart.”
“I will send her a card. It’s the very least I could do.”
“Uh-huh,” Davenport said. He checked the temperature of his coffee by taking a small sip, apparently decided it was fine, and took a gulp.
“I suppose a few people will be sad Josh is gone, but he wasn’t a part of my life anymore, and I’ll hardly mourn him.” She frowned. “Still, it did seem odd to find him at Thompson’s Landing. He lived in Fairport. Why would he rent a slip all the way out here—especially at this time of year? By this evening, half the boats in the marina will be pulled out of the water and mothballed until Memorial Day.”
“Odd indeed,” Davenport muttered.
“Josh lived near the canal. And even if he wanted open water for his cabin cruiser, Irondequoit Bay is a lot closer.” She nibbled at her cookie.
“That it is,” Davenport said. He inspected his jelly stick and took a bite. Strawberry filling, or maybe raspberry, clung to the corner of his mouth.
Katie frowned. “Why are you being so quiet, agreeing with everything I say?” she asked suspiciously.
“I’m just being me.” He grabbed another napkin from the holder and wiped his mouth.
“Have you got a date for reopening Wood U?” she asked. Davenport had bought the Square’s wood gift shop, which had burned six weeks before—just days before he’d been pushed down a flight of stairs and broken his leg.
“I’m still waiting for the insurance company to come through with a check. It could take months, as you well know.”
Yes, she did.
“It had better come through before the Christmas rush, or there’ll be hell to pay,” Davenport added. That at least made Katie smile. Here was the Ray Davenport she knew and . . . well, didn’t love, but had taken a shine to of late.
“It’ll give me time to make more stock,” he said, “but I’ll soon run out of room in my rental house. I may have to get a storage unit.”
“Haven’t you found a house yet?” Davenport was a recent widower, and his two younger daughters were starting high school that week. Sophie, the oldest, had already left for her first semester at the Culinary Institute of America. The three remaining Davenports had decided a new house was in order and listed their house. It sold surprisingly fast, and they’d moved to a short-term rental so they’d have plenty of time to choose the right house to buy.
“I know, I know,” Davenport said, almost growling. “But we’ve all been too busy. The girls just got this place looking like home. I don’t want to uproot them too soon, although Sasha and Sadie grab the Saturday real estate section of the paper before I can. They’re motivated, and they have a long list of must-haves for the new house. I can see the next couple of months are going to be pure hell.”
“If you don’t want to wait until Thanksgiving,” Katie said, “I’ve got a couple of booths available at Artisans Alley. I’d be glad to let you have your pick for a steal. This isn’t the time of year when sales are at their peak.”
“Let me think about it.”
Katie nodded and sipped her coffee, her gaze traveling back to what she could see of Sassy Sally’s, wondering how long it would be before the authorities removed Josh’s body.
“You’re not going to poke around that inn, are you?”
“Why would you even ask?”
Ray eyed her speculatively. “Your reputation precedes you.”
Katie frowned. “I’ll be there for Nick and Don. Emotional support,” she asserted.
“Uh-huh,” Ray said with skepticism.
Katie’s frown deepened. “Josh Kimper hasn’t been a part of my life for almost a year. I’m not going to obsess over his death—especially since he no doubt died of natural causes.”
“No doubt,” Ray agreed, but there was something in his expression that made her wonder.
Katie thought again of Josh slumped in the tub. Had she seen something about the body that indicated a more sinister scenario?
At that moment, she wasn’t willing to speculate.
A few hours later, Katie slid into one side of a booth at Del’s Diner just as the attractive Andy Rust, owner of Angelo’s Pizzeria, who also happened to be her landlord and her boyfriend, walked into the restaurant. The Rochester Red Wings baseball cap on his head covered his dark, wavy hair, his T-shirt clung nicely to his muscular upper body, and his jeans had that faded hue that could have come from an expensive purchase in a department store but had instead come from hard use and many washings.
He scanned the restaurant, and when he spotted Katie, he smiled. “Hey,” he said, dropping into the seat across from her. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”
“I didn’t know bacon did any shaking.” She leaned across the table, and they exchanged a quick kiss. Andy was a sweetheart, but their conflicting schedules made things difficult. Her business, Artisans Alley, was open during regular retail hours, and Andy’s pizzeria days were often twelve hours long.
Now that she was renting the apartment upstairs from his shop, they saw each other a little more often, but even when they were snuggling on the couch, watching television, it wasn’t easy to forget the work going on downstairs. And certainly the kids down there didn’t forget their boss was nearby. More than one romantic interlude had been interrupted by a frantic emergency call.
Katie loved the fact that Andy hired at-risk boys from the local high school. They needed work, he often said, to keep out of trouble, and if he could give them some life lessons at the same time, well, that was all to the good, right?
Having been an at-risk kid himself, he knew what he was talking about, and they were beyond pleased that of all the boys he’d hired, only one of them had found his way back to trouble.
“It’s Jim’s new catchphrase.” Andy pushed aside his menu and went on to talk about the virtues of his assistant manager. When Andy had branched out from pizza into baking cinnamon buns, he’d come to recognize that even he couldn’t work sixteen-hour days indefinitely and had hired Jim so he wouldn’t work himself into exhaustion.
Katie tried to listen, but she kept getting distracted by the way his hair curled around the edges of his cap. Her husband, Chad, had died in a car accident just about eighteen months before. Though in most situations it would be too soon to think about another relationship, she and Chad had been separated at the time of his death.
The reason for their separation was now high irony, since what Chad had done without Katie’s knowledge was take all of their hard-earned savings to invest in Artisans Alley, a rambling old applesauce warehouse converted into an arcade for artists and crafters. Katie had chucked her job at the insurance company to run the place by herself after Chad, then the majority owner, had died. Only now, after months of blood, sweat, and tears, was it making any money at all.
Yes, the business venture that had threatened to break up her marriage was giving her new purpose in life. Katie swallowed away an unexpected lump of grief. Even though she was only thirty-one, she’d had to deal with more sorrow than many people twice her age. Her parents both died when she was young, the great-aunt who’d raised her after the death of her parents had passed away years ago, and then Chad. In many ways, she was lucky
to have Artisans Alley and all the friends she’d made there.
Plus there were all the people she’d met from Victoria Square itself. Artisans Alley was anchor to the Victoria Square business district, a quaint shopping area with gaslights and gingerbread facades. Stores ranged from a quilt shop to a tea shop to a place that made scrumptious jams and jellies. For years the district had struggled to bring in shoppers, but Katie’s intense efforts to entice customers to Artisans Alley were also bringing people to the rest of the Square, and she couldn’t be happier about that fact.
“Have you heard a word I said?”
Katie woke up from her musings. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just thinking.”
“I kind of figured that,” Andy said. “The question is, what were you thinking about?”
“Oh, this and that.” She smiled across the table at him, glad they’d started a new habit of eating together at Del’s every other day. It was an early lunch for her after a morning in her office, and it was breakfast for Andy, soon after he’d rolled out of bed, but as long as they were together, the names of the meals didn’t matter at all.
“You two ready?” Sandy, the morning waitress, stood poised to take their order.
After she’d left, Andy reached out and took Katie’s hand. “So are you going to tell me what was going on at Sassy Sally’s?”
Katie’s eyebrows went up. “What makes you think I know anything?”
His own eyebrows rose to match hers. “Because I’ve known you for almost a year. Because nothing important goes on in Victoria Square without you hearing about it. Because whatever it was happened at the bed-and-breakfast you’ve lusted over for years. Because the owners are friends. Because it happened practically outside your bedroom. Because—”
“Because I’m a busybody who can’t resist poking her nose into things that don’t concern her?” Katie asked.
She tried to pull her hand away, but Andy held on.
“No, because you care,” he said. “About your friends and about Victoria Square.”
This was true, but Katie wasn’t sure she liked it that he could predict her so easily.
Dead, Bath, and Beyond Page 2
