I pulled my phone out and hit the flashlight app in order to see better. That was when I saw the receipt and the discarded cup from the lodge’s café, leaving me to wonder if maybe they belonged to Joey or the killer.
I couldn’t say for sure how long they’d been there. I didn’t notice the trampled trees until the day before, when I was getting out of the shower.
Throwing on my gloves in case they could be evidence, I scooped the items from the bin and brought them back inside.
Under the lights of the mudroom, I read the receipt. It was from a coffee place in Westbrook, Maine, called Coffee is Life, and written on the front of the receipt was a name.
Grady.
Well, that could be anyone who was staying at the lodge. I’d have to check. I was about to take it inside to put it in a plastic bag for Stiles when the see-thru paper revealed something written on the back.
A website URL that looked like it was in Joey’s handwriting. The message he’d left Marcelle was written in all caps except for the letter I in both diabetes and medication. Those were all in lowercase.
I flipped to the pic of the note for Marcelle and compared the two signatures. I was no expert, but they sure looked a lot alike, right down to the distinctive letter I in lowercase.
And again, that shiver of discovery sizzled along my spine.
Out of nothing more than curiosity, I typed the URL on the back of the receipt into my phone, not even considering I’d find anything of import.
Except, I found something all right.
Yikes, did I ever.
And all I can say is…bow-chick-a-wow-wow.
Cue canned, cheesy music.
Chapter 11
We were back in Hobbs’s Jeep on our way to the lodge to attend the scavenger hunt as I contemplated this website called Uncensored Intimacies, and I think you can guess what the star attraction was.
“So a porn site, huh?” Hobbs said as he turned into the parking lot of the lodge, his tires crunching over the snow. “Why do you suppose Joey—or is it Grady—was writing down porn websites?”
“Why anyone would write a website like that down on their receipt for a morning cup of Joe is beyond me. Is nothing sacred?”
He laughed as he pulled into a parking space. “I’m pretty sure even people who watch porn drink coffee, honey. But I’m not sure I’m making the connection. Despite the significant comparison in handwriting, everyone talked about how nice Joey was. Do nice guys watch porn?”
“I don’t know, do they?” I retorted, giving him a saucy glance.
He laughed. “I won’t say I haven’t seen a thing or two. I was a teen once, too, but I promise if you scoured my computer, you’d find a lot of stuff, but porn wouldn’t be one of them.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean Joey isn’t a nice guy, but you know what I think it is? I think it connects to him asking Millie about the room, which I’m betting an organ was the Talbots’ room. And the webcam and telling Sabrina he’d make sure it got erased. We need to know who’s stayed in that room, Hobbs. If a Sabrina did, we can connect her to Joey. For sure I can tell you from my gut, something bad happened there and the clock is ticking.”
My stomach took a downward dive again at the thought that the woman in my vision was no longer with us. I had to figure this out.
Hobbs gripped the steering wheel and clucked his tongue. “Your theory is sound, Jessica Fletcher two-point-O. Basically, you think there’s some incriminating video of this Sabrina from a room at the lodge. That makes the word erase he used on the phone make a lot more sense.”
I patted his muscled thigh. “That’s exactly what I think. Either that, or Joey’s a total schmuck and he made an incriminating video of Sabrina—which makes zero sense, because I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want any ornament, purple or otherwise, from someone who’d taped me when I was nude or whatever. Anyway, either of those explanations might get you killed.”
“But again, he used the word erase. He told Sabrina he’d find a way to erase it,” Hobbs reminded me.
I looked at him under the dim lights of the radio, where soft Christmas music played, and agreed. “True. But maybe they’re a couple and they’re into that and it got into the wrong hands? I’m not sure why he’d end up dead over it. More than likely he was killed for trying to figure out who created the incriminating video. But is it of Sabrina or only someone else? More importantly, is she the woman with the burgundy hair in my visions? That’s what we need to know.”
He ran his finger down along my nose. “I love when your eyes light up with the fire of a good mystery. I say we get on it, Crockett. Now, you ready to win a gift certificate for the lodge spa?”
That was the grand prize for the scavenger hunt—a day of luxury at the lodge spa.
I held up my finger. “Wait one second. I want to look up this coffee place and send Stiles a text with what we found.”
Hobbs pointed to his phone. “I looked up Sabrina Scarpetti and found three—one is a kid, and the other two are women in their sixties. Lots of Sabrinas, though. If you want to pick through profiles to see if anyone matches your vision.”
I frowned. “Did you find anything on the Facebook profiles from our list of suspects?”
Hobbs’s face looked grim. “Can we even call them suspects? The pool is shallow, honey, but yes, I looked them all up and they all have Facebook pages—mostly private and with very few details. I learned that Abel likes to run marathons, and Marcelle enjoys a rousin’ game of chess. Oh, and Clarissa, our perky events coordinator, likes Bruno Mars and Savannah Temple novels.”
I snorted. Ugh. Savannah Temple. My BFFs favorite. “Well, there’s no accounting for taste, I suppose, but hardly anything earth-shattering.”
Landing on the coffee shop I’d searched for, I clicked on Coffee for Life in Westbrook, Maine, a town I wasn’t terribly familiar with. Not a cheap place to live, according to Google.
“Another interesting, useless fact to note, none of our shallow pool of suspects are friends on Facebook. I cross referenced them all.”
“Huh. How odd. Though, I can’t say as I blame them. Think about all the trouble people get into by expressing their sometimes unpopular views on their Facebook pages. First, you have to face the people you work with, who might disagree. Second, people hunt them down and expose them and call their employers. They end up fired and bombarded by hate posts. I see it on Twitter all the time.”
“I can definitely understand that. The Twitter phenom can be brutal.”
Hobbs sounded as though he spoke from personal experience, but I didn’t have time to pursue the subject.
My phone beeped a text then—one from Stiles that made my mouth fall open. “It’s Stiles. He says the murder weapon…you remember the ski pole, right? It wasn’t from any of the poles rented at Saul’s because none are missing or have any evidence of a crime. They’re speculating someone brought one with them—if it was actually someone from the lodge who killed Joey…er, Grady. Still haven’t uncovered his real identity, but I sent Stiles a text about what was in the trash and he’s going to meet us here to collect what I found. And then something very interesting…”
“And that is?” Hobbs asked, his voice husky and low.
My fingers shook a little. “The webcam is attached to an app.”
Hobbs turned to look at me. “Shut the front door! Who owns it?”
“They don’t know. It’s registered in—are you ready for this?—Macedonia…which is where the website is also listed.”
“Meaning, they can’t be prosecuted for the content because Macedonia has different laws?”
I blew out a breath and scrunched my eyes shut. “Yep.”
“Well, dagnabbit.”
Yeah. What he said.
The scavenger hunt was in full swing when we entered the lodge. Christmas music played, kids ran from place to place on the hunt and the adults, with cocktails in hand, laughed and searched for the list of clues we were given by none
other than Clarissa, when we walked in.
She wore an elf’s hat and a fun sweatshirt that read: There’s No Business Like Snow Business. “No fair you’re here, Miss Valentine!” she teased with a laugh, her cheerful face flushed. “You solve real crimes. This scavenger hunt should be a cakewalk for you.”
I laughed along with her, mostly to humor her ridiculous statement. “No fear of that. I didn’t really solve anything. I just fell into the answers. I’m sure someone much worthier than I am will win. We’re just here for the night out and some eggnog.”
She leaned into me then, her face suddenly serious. “Have you found out anything that’ll help with who killed Joey?”
Sighing, I shook my head as I pulled off my knit hat, twisting the white material in my fingers. “No. Unfortunately, we haven’t. See? I told you, I’m not really that good.”
She patted me on the back in sympathy. “No worries. I’m sure the police will figure it out. Until then, go have fun and good luck!”
Talk about eternally sunshiney. Though, I suppose that was part of her job as much as it was Abel’s.
“Thanks, Clarissa.” I smiled in acknowledgment and took the list without really looking at it. My heart wasn’t in a scavenger hunt. Not when I needed to find the woman in my vision and Joey’s killer. Or was his name Grady? Dang, I sure wish the police would find out who Joey really is.
I stared at the list without really seeing it because I couldn’t stop thinking about what might be on that webcam.
“Honey?” Hobbs said with a tap to the paper. “We doin’ this?”
“I’d rather look and see if we can find Millie. Then I need to talk to Saul and see if he’ll give me a guestlist of people who stayed in the rooms on that floor. Do you mind?”
“Does a coyote have forty-two teeth?”
I blinked up at my handsome man. “Um, I dunno. Do they?”
He held out the crook of his arm to me. “Yep. Just a silly bit of info I learned when I was doing some research.”
“So that means yes?”
He chuckled. “That means yes.”
“Then let’s go find Saul.”
He had to be around this madness somewhere. Saul never let an event go unattended. He was too concerned about his guests’ well-being and comfort to miss it.
We slipped through the crowd of people, all looking appeased under the glow of the Christmas lights strung from corner to corner of the room. The big Christmas tree glowed brighter as folks milled around its silver and gold beauty.
In general, the spirits of the guests felt better tonight than they had this afternoon.
Sure as the day is long, I saw Saul over by the table where a spread of Christmas goodies sat buffet style. All sorts of cookies were displayed, and red and green popcorn balls, cakes, and confections lined the table, drawing Hobbs instantly.
“Evenin’, Saul,” he greeted him with a smile.
Saul’s gruff face broke into a grin. “The cowboy, in the flesh! Help yourself, son. Plenty to eat for a big guy like you.”
There was no stopping Hobbs when brownies were involved. “Don’t mind if I do.”
As Hobbs picked out some treats, I rested a hand on Saul’s burly arm. “Hey, Saul? Can I trouble you for a sec of your time?”
“’Course you can, sweetheart. What can I do ya for?”
“First, how goes the room sweeps?”
His cheeks puffed as he blew out a breath. “Didn’t find any more of those nasty things anywhere. The police made sure of that. Can’t wait to see my Yelp reviews after this.”
“Any idea at all who might have put it there?”
Saul sucked his teeth and shook his head. “Not a one, kiddo. I’ve never had anything like this happen before, but it makes my stomach roll like a ship on a stormy sea. Can’t tell ya how upset I am about it, but the police say they can’t find the owner of the dang thing because the ID something or other is in Macedonia. How’s that gonna help me find who did this?”
“The IP,” I provided. “It’s like an Internet address, but the owner of the camera registered it in Macedonia so they can avoid prosecution.”
Saul’s round face went red. “’Cause they were doin’ somethin’ dirty with that camera, that’s why!” Then he sighed. “All this is my fault, you know. If I did a better job of checking Joey’s paperwork—or whatever the heck his real name is—he wouldn’t be dead. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
The remorse in his voice made my heart tighten. “Oh, Saul, I think he would have found a way. He was here for a reason. A man on a mission, so to speak. That’s why I want to talk to you.”
He smiled warmly at me, his eyes twinkling under the Christmas lights. “I’ve been hearin’ how you helped with the other investigations. You just tell me what you need and I’m all in, kiddo. I don’t care what the police say about it either.”
I held my hands up in minimal protest. “I’d highly recommend you share anything you know with the police, Saul. I’m no mastermind sleuth. I just get a feeling every once in a while and I can’t resist sticking my nose in. If I find anything, I’m going to share it. You should, too.”
“If you say so, Hallie-Oop. I’ll do what you ask. Now, what can I do ya for?”
“Would you happen to have the list of people who’ve stayed in the Talbots’ room, and all the others on the same floor, over the last year or so? In fact, maybe the list of everyone who’s stayed here in the last year?”
For all I knew, the webcam might have been moved around to different rooms without anyone being aware. Better to check them all.
“You got it, sweetheart,” Saul said on a wink. “Gimme one sec and Loretta will print it out for you, but you gotta keep it confidential and all. I value my guests’ privacy.”
I smiled at him. “You can count on me. Also, any idea where I can find Millie? Is she here tonight?”
His expression became skeptical. “Millie Hart? She’s here with the grandkids. Saw her not long ago. You’re not tellin’ me she’s involved, are ya?”
“Oh no,” I reassured him. “Not at all, but she did have an interaction with Joey I’d like to ask her about.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Man, I can’t believe anyone would wanna hurt poor Joey. He was a nice kid, and even if he lied about who he is, he worked hard.”
I fought a roll of my eyes. This guy had made quite an impression in such a short time. “So I’ve heard. But you never heard anything about him that might help figure out who he is? He didn’t have any trouble with any of the other staff?”
Saul ran a beefy hand over his forehead. “Not a dang thing. He showed up on time for his shifts, sometimes he even got in early. He never complained. He was always pleasant to the guests, and he went above and beyond to do his job.”
If Joey had any serious trouble with anyone it would make this too easy, wouldn’t it? I needed a motive and so far, I had nothing.
I was beginning to think the person who’d killed Joey wasn’t anyone at the lodge. The possibility that whoever owned that webcam was someone who wasn’t even in the vicinity became more real than ever.
My next questions was a longshot, but worth a try regardless. “Do you remember a guest named Sabrina?”
Saul snorted at me. “Kiddo, I can barely remember my name. I only remember the regulars who come back year after year. But I don’t remember a Sabrina.”
Just as I’d thought. “Okay, Saul, let me know when you have the list printed and I’ll go hunt for Millie.”
“Deal,” he said and handed me a brownie with a smile. “For your travels.”
I grinned at him and grabbed Hobbs, who had brownie crumbs on his face I lovingly wiped away. “Good brownie?”
He grinned, a little chocolate from the brownie still on his teeth. “The best. Where are we off to now, Tubbs?”
“Uh, I’m Crockett, remember? Ice-cream-colored suits, shoes with no socks?”
“Right. I forgot. Must be all the sugar.” He li
cked his fingers for emphasis with a broad grin.
Giggling, I said, “We need to find Millie. She’s here tonight. Use all that height of yours to see if you can find her. She’s a tiny blip of a woman with pin-curled dark brown hair. Early sixties, if I remember right. Almost always wears a pair of sweats and a fun sweatshirt, and don’t forget the hearing aid. Probably with her grandchildren.”
He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the crowd. “In the back of the lodge by the hot chocolate fountain. She’s with two little white-blonde-haired girls in fancy Christmas dresses.”
My eyes zeroed in on the direction Hobbs pointed toward. “Got it. You want in, or is there more dessert to be had?”
“Lemme grab some more of those lacey cookies and I’ll be right behind you.” He planted a kiss on my nose and went back to the dessert table.
I made my way toward petite Millie, who was busy looking on the shelf of a bookcase for the scavenger hunt.
I didn’t know Millie Hart at all other than the few times I’d seen her here at the lodge. Though, I did know she was famous around town for her colorful sweatsuits, which I fully understood when I saw her.
She wore a Christmas-themed sweatsuit with tiny red, white, and green pom-poms sewn to the wrists of the shirt and a big candy cane on the front.
As I approached, I smiled at the two girls in their ruffled Christmas dresses, no more than maybe five and eight. “Hi, guys! Mind if I talk to Grandma for a minute?”
“Girls, go find your mama. She’s right over by the fireplace. I’ll see you in a minute.” As the girls skipped off, Millie turned back to me. “You’re that detective lady, right?” she asked with a clearly hesitant smile, touching her ears to adjust her hearing aids.
I held up my hands and shook my head. “Heck no. I’m not a detective. I own Just Claus.”
Her expression became instantly lighter. “Aw, sure-sure. I knew your mom, Keeva. I’m a little bit older than she woulda been, but we went to high school together. She was a nice lady. Sorry about your loss.”
Hearing someone knew my quirky mother always made me a little sad. They held the key to her memories, some I’m sure she didn’t have the chance to share with me, and it never failed to catch me off guard.
Carnage in a Pear Tree Page 10
