Last Pen Standing

by Vivian Conroy

  “Why do you think she isn’t having a good time?” Hazel asked, breaking open a fresh pack of rhinestones for the participant beside her. “Doesn’t she like mountains and the lake? If the Whites are into boat trips, you’d expect they can appreciate all the outdoor activities offered around Tundish.”

  “Well, it’s a case of non-aligned interests, I’d say,” Mrs. Cassidy responded. “The brothers are both middle-aged men, a bit addicted to their work, I suppose. Rumor has it they are here to find new business opportunities. They’ve been here for three weeks already and show no intention of leaving.”

  Mrs. Cassidy reached for the glue gun, continuing pensively, “On top of this business trip thinly veiled as a vacation, Vera White has to spend it with her sister-in-law, Amanda, who is at least twenty years older than her and the polar opposite personality-wise. While Vera is outgoing and bubbly, Amanda is quiet, someone you barely notice. They were at the museum the other day, you know. I showed them around. I think you can always deduce a lot from the way in which people interact with each other. Or do not interact.”

  Delta was amazed at the knowledge Mrs. Cassidy had about people who were apparently from out of town, but her Paper Posse friends seemed to think this perfectly normal and eagerly awaited more gossip.

  Hazel spoke quickly, refocusing the group. “Yes, well, I’m glad she liked the notebooks. I’m sure she’ll be back later to get them like she said. How’s everyone doing? Need any advice? Oh, that looks very nice.”

  Delta assisted someone who needed a ton of small, sticky gemstones for her quote, tearing them off the sheet with tweezers and then carefully pasting them in place. It was a very delicate job, and she found herself at it with a frown and the tip of her tongue between her lips. A headache was forming behind her eyes because of the exertion and the heat in the room. The breeze from the open french doors barely reached her, and she longed to feel its cool touch on her cheeks.

  As if Hazel had read her thoughts, she came over to her. “Spud wants a walk, I think. If you take him and Nugget, I’ll stay here and finish up with the ladies. Then we can mix some mocktails. I brought raspberries because I know you love them.”

  “Great idea.” Delta smiled at her. “Thanks.” She took the dogs’ leashes, and Spud immediately jumped up and came with her.

  Nugget circled Mrs. Cassidy’s legs, as if to ask for permission, and then ran out of the french doors after Delta and Spud. They emerged onto a terrace decorated with pots full of what had been plants in full bloom during the summer. Now, as fall reigned, they were just green stalks, looking rather sad.

  But Delta breathed the crisp, fresh air and, detecting a path lit with electric lanterns leading a vantage point, followed it quickly. Spud stayed beside her, taking in his surroundings with his ears up, while Nugget tripped ahead, every inch the little diva who had a bodyguard following her discreetly.

  The highest point, a narrow, wooden plateau with a railing, offered a full view of the expanse of water, this time not mirroring the snow-capped mountains, but the bright stars above. The crescent moon’s reflection rippled in silver to Delta’s right, while to the left, a dark shadow moved across the water.

  “Fishermen, probably,” Delta said to Spud. “I’m a little jealous of them.” There was a breathtaking quality to these tranquil surroundings. It was good to be away from the heat inside the Lodge and just stand here and experience the charm of the view.

  The only downside was the cold wind that breathed through the trees and put goose flesh on her arms and legs. Nugget was also shivering. They shouldn’t stay here for long.

  Turning around, Delta thought she saw a path leading up on the other side of the plateau, a perfect shortcut back to the Lodge entrance. But a few steps onto the trodden earth, with tall trees towering over her, she began to doubt it was going in the right direction. Then she froze.

  Angry voices resounded nearby. Instinctively, Delta stayed where she was. Spud pressed himself against her, not making a sound. Nugget stood between the bigger dog’s legs, as if hiding there.

  Voice high-pitched and brittle as if she were about to cry, a woman said, “You don’t have to make such a spectacle of it.”

  “It’s not my problem you can’t move.” The second voice was female as well, but not emotional, rather dismissive and callous.

  “I’ll tell Ralph to quit the dancing lessons.” The words rushed out in a breathless hurry.

  A scoffing sound before the second voice spoke with determination, “He won’t listen to you. He loves dancing. Especially with me.”

  The silence stretched a moment as if the first woman fought for control, before she spoke again. “He won’t love it anymore if I tell him the truth.”

  “But you won’t.” There was emotion in the second voice now, a menacing undertone. “Because it would hurt you just as much, and you know that.”

  A sound rang out, as of a hand striking flesh. High heels clattered, as if the woman on the receiving end had staggered back.

  Delta raised a hand to her mouth, covering her lips to prevent herself from making a sound. She hadn’t expected the altercation to turn physically violent. Should she intervene to prevent the situation from getting further out of hand?

  Spud lowered his head but stayed perfectly quiet.

  In the sudden silence, the whisper sounded even more menacing. “You’ll be sorry for this. Very sorry.” Footfalls rushed away.

  A voice said, “Wait. Wait up now.” It sounded pleading, almost desperate. More footfalls resounded, and a rustle of fabric.

  Then the quiet hung over the lake again, hovering around them almost like a presence.

  Delta moved her head slightly to determine if the women were really gone. She was suddenly even colder and couldn’t wait to get back to the boardroom, the crafting Paper Posse, pleasant company. She picked up Nugget and held the shivering dog against her as she pulled Spud along to get back to the hotel.

  In her hurry, she took a wrong turn and found herself facing a low, natural stone wall. Uncertain whether she could just clamber over it—she might end up in flower beds and trample something—she decided to follow the wall and came to the front entrance of the hotel.

  Seeing the friendly light streaming from the doors, she exhaled in relief and whispered to Nugget, “Almost there. That wasn’t fun, right? But it’s OK now.” As she stepped into the lobby, Delta almost bumped into Rosalyn, whose face was mottled. “Where’s Jonas?” she hissed. “The guests want pictures of them dancing.”

  Her gaze glued to the rash in Rosalyn’s face, Delta had difficulty focusing on the question. Had Rosalyn been out just now, and had she been slapped by another woman? But the mention of someone called Ralph had prompted a connection with the Whites in her mind. Mrs. Cassidy had just told them Ralph White was married to Amanda, who was the polar opposite of outgoing Vera. That the sisters-in-law couldn’t stand each other. And Vera had also been drinking. That could cause tensions to boil over.

  Delta realized Rosalyn was waiting for an answer to her question about Jonas. “I, uh…don’t know,” she faltered. “I haven’t seen him. I just took the dogs out for a few minutes.”

  Rosalyn nodded curtly and vanished into the restrooms.

  Delta leaned down to put Nugget on the floor. The Yorkie had managed to entangle her legs in the leash, and Delta knelt to get the leather strap unwound from her front paws. “Stand still, girl, let me get that. That’s right. Good girl.”

  As the lobby was practically empty, and the party music just at a soft piano intro to a big band hit, Delta could hear the voices of the hotel clerk and Finn, who was standing at the desk. He asked, “Mrs. White just wants to make sure her things are properly stored away. That box contains valuables. Are you sure it’s in the safe?”

  “Yes, Mr. Taylor put it there himself.”

  A clatter resounded, and Delta looked up, seeing F
inn ducking to the floor to retrieve one of the brass, horse-shaped stands with information he had apparently knocked over. Straightening up with a red face, he asked, “Ray?”

  “No, Mr. Taylor Sr.,” the clerk corrected. “He and Miss Rosalyn are the only ones who have the combination.”

  Delta had disentangled the dog leash and rose to her feet. Rosalyn stormed from the restrooms, saw Finn, and sailed down on him. She whispered something in his ear, and Finn looked at her with an appalled expression. “How can you think that? I’d never do that!” He seemed to want to say more, then reconsidered. He rushed off, back into the ballroom, where the full orchestra was playing now, creating that twenties roar.

  Rosalyn looked after Finn with a satisfied little smile. Her gaze drifted away to find Delta looking at her. “Is anything wrong?” she snapped.

  Delta shook her head. “The ice for the mocktails…” She just mentioned the first thing that came to mind.

  Rosalyn glanced at the grandfather clock on the lobby wall. “One of the waiters should bring it any moment now.”

  “Great. Thank you.” Delta retreated to the boardroom, pulling the dogs along. There seemed to be quite a bit of tension in the air for such a happy party night. Still, it was none of her business. She couldn’t wait to have Hazel mix her a raspberry mint mocktail so they could toast their joint venture’s success.

  Chapter Three

  “Thanks so much, and I’ll be sure to drop by the boutique sometime soon,” Delta called after Bessie Rider, the last workshop participant to leave. Bessie had told her about the new pants, scarves, and accessories that would soon be arriving in her shop, and Delta couldn’t wait to go there and add to her wardrobe. She also wanted to buy a present for Hazel to celebrate the start of their partnership. The beaded charm bracelets Bessie had described sounded perfect.

  With a satisfied smile, Delta turned back into the boardroom, where Hazel had cleaned up the last paper snippets, errant sticky stones, and feathers off the floor and chairs. Putting the empty water bottles in the cardboard box, Hazel blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Done. I know Rosalyn will go over this room with a fine-tooth comb to see if we cleaned up properly. There could be some bigwig meeting here tomorrow, and she doesn’t want the room to look like a kindergarten class was here. Her words, not mine.”

  Delta grimaced. “She doesn’t seem to rate our workshops very highly.”

  “Well, Rosalyn doesn’t want the CEOs sitting down and getting rhinestones stuck to their expensive designer suits. She does have a point, of course. We should leave it as we found it.” Hazel scanned the room critically. “Looks OK to me. The used glasses, shaker, and restrainer can stay here, as a waiter will pick them up later. Time to find Jonas and ask if he’s done with his assignment so he can have Spud back.”

  Spud looked up at the mention of his name and wagged his tail.

  “If not, we could take him home for the night,” Hazel said. “He’s a cutie.”

  “What’s that?” Delta pointed at the last item left on the now-empty oval table.

  “Oh, yes, good of you to notice. It’s the two notebooks that our workshop-crashing lady wanted to buy. She hasn’t been back, so I think I’ll leave them at the hotel desk for her. Mrs. White will have to come to the shop to pay for the notebooks she picked, and who knows, she might see other things she likes.”

  Delta laughed at her friend’s trusting attitude and savvy business approach. “Good idea.”

  Hazel carried out the box, and Delta turned off the lights and closed the door. The clock in the lobby struck eleven, though it was partially drowned out by blasting trombones, indicating the party was in full swing. Delta threw a longing gaze at the doors, behind which the high-profile guests were dancing the night away, while Hazel gave the paper bag with the notebooks to the clerk at the desk. The clerk promised to give the notebooks to Mrs. White the first chance he got.

  Just as Delta and Hazel were about to leave, Finn popped up behind them. Delta hadn’t noticed him coming and started when she saw his appearance. His face was ashen and his tie askew. He said to Hazel, “You have to help me.” His voice was breathless, pleading.

  Hazel asked in a whisper, “What’s wrong?”

  “In the hotel bar. Someone had an accident. Please go get help. I can’t do it.” Finn looked around, ducked his shoulders as if he wanted to make himself smaller, almost invisible, and ran off, up the broad, carpeted stairs leading to the second floor.

  “Accident?” Hazel echoed. “What does he mean?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe we should just have a quick look in the bar to see what’s up? If it’s really an accident, we should call for help.” Delta looked around. “Do you know where the bar is?”

  “Yes, through there.” Hazel nodded in the direction of a door with a tinted glass mosaic depicting a gold miner’s equipment of mattock and sieve. Gold flecks shimmered yellow in the light that fell through the door from inside the bar.

  They walked up to the door.

  “Hey! Wait a minute.” The clerk came over to them. “The hotel bar is closed tonight.”

  “We don’t want a drink,” Hazel said. “Uh, I think someone had an accident in there.”

  “An accident?” The clerk gave them a dubious look. “I’ll go and see. You stay here.”

  Hazel and Delta waited as he slipped inside, the door falling to a soft close behind his back. “If Finn is pulling my leg,” Hazel whispered to Delta, “I’ll have his hide for it.”

  Delta didn’t think Finn’s looks had suggested he was joking. On the contrary, he had looked positively spooked and ready to run.

  Hazel groused, “That man is probably coming back to tell us there’s no one there. He’ll think it some tasteless joke and tell Rosalyn about it. We can then forget about ever doing a workshop here again.”

  But seconds later, the door of the bar was flung open so wildly that it hit the wall and the glass pane rattled as if about to shatter.

  The clerk rushed out, deathly pale. “She’s dead. She’s dead. There’s blood.”

  “Who’s what?” Hazel asked, glancing at Delta in bewilderment.

  Delta’s heart skipped a beat. Dead? Blood?

  The clerk’s eye focused on her. “Mrs. Vera White. You just asked about her. Someone hurt her. She’s lying there. She bled…” He swallowed hard. “We have to call the police. How did you know she was in there?”

  “I didn’t know anything.” The color had vanished from Hazel’s face. She clutched the box with leftover materials from the workshop. “I think I need to sit down.”

  “This way.” With an arm around her shoulder, Delta led her friend to a nearby leather sofa and pushed her onto it. “Take a deep breath.”

  The shaken clerk hurried off to call the police.

  Delta leaned over Hazel. Her mind raced to make sense of the situation. “Finn told you to go look in the bar. He called it an accident, but… If that woman is really dead…”

  “He’ll be a suspect.” Hazel gripped the box as if it were a lifeline. “We can’t let the police be suspicious of him. He’s just rebuilding his life. Please, Delta, you’ve got to help me. We can’t tell them what Finn told us.”

  “But we have to.” Delta was perplexed that her friend would even suggest such a thing. “The police will want to know how we knew something was wrong in the bar.”

  “We can lie that we heard a sound, a scuffle…something suspicious. We were here all night, right?”

  “But the boardroom is on the other side of the lobby. How could we have heard anything happening in the bar with all the noise coming from the party? That’s not logical at all.”

  Delta’s heart beat even faster at the prospect of making up some story for the police, who would see right through it and then suspect her and Hazel of being involved. “We have to tell the truth and let the police sort it out.”


  “No.” Hazel grabbed Delta’s hand, squeezing her fingers hard. “They can’t start looking at Finn. Just help me, OK? I can’t explain now, but it’s really important. Please!”

  Delta took a deep breath. She didn’t want to lie to the police, but she also didn’t understand what Hazel meant by saying Finn had just been rebuilding his life.

  But before she could ask, Ray Taylor rushed over to them. “What did I hear? Is there a death? Have you seen it? Are you all right?”

  Delta glanced at the desk where the clerk was standing with the phone pressed to his ear. Had he notified Ray? How else would Ray know about the death in the bar?

  Ray sat down beside Hazel and touched her arm. “Are you OK? Say something.”

  Delta took the lead. “The clerk came out saying someone is in there. That she’s dead. We didn’t see the body. We don’t know anything about it, really.”

  With a visible effort, Hazel added, “We heard something in the bar while it was supposed to be closed during the party. So the clerk went in to have a look, and he found the body.”

  “OK.” Ray exhaled as if relieved. “Wait until Rosalyn hears this. A dead body at the gold miners’ party! The newspapers will eat it up.”

  Delta couldn’t quite determine if Ray was anxious at the prospect of the hotel being associated with the death of one of its guests. As an ex-football star, he had probably had his fair share of media exposure, which might not always have been a pleasant experience. Perhaps he was already thinking up the headlines, suggesting the hotel was somehow responsible? A lack of security, an intruder getting in?

  Or would they assume it hadn’t been an outsider? Her throat constricted. Could they keep Finn out of this? The clerk might have seen him speak to her and Hazel before he rushed off.

  Desperate to understand how a woman could suddenly have been murdered, she asked Ray, “How well did you know the dead woman? Mrs. Vera White?”

  “It’s Vera White? She’s the one that’s dead?” Something flashed across Ray’s face, some brief emotion that Delta couldn’t quite define. Surprise? Disbelief?