“Well, I think I’ll be in the latter category for the rest of the session.”
An hour later, Liz thanked Cindy and told Winston to come. There were times when she wished people didn’t know she was the owner. She would have preferred to have worn her robe when she came to the spa from the lodge. That’s what most of the guests wore when they came from their cottages. To heck with it, she thought, next time I have a spa treatment I’m going to treat myself like a guest and wear a robe.
When they returned to the lodge she went into the kitchen, made three chocolate cookie crusts, baked them, and set them on cooling racks. Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed, she spooned toffee ice cream into them, filling the shells and put them in the freezer.
Good, that’s out of the way. I can put the chocolate sauce on them later this afternoon and then whip the cream for the final layer of topping. I mean, who can resist chocolate sauce and ice cream? They’ll love it!
“Winston, we’re going into town. I want to talk to Bart over at the Tribune. Maybe he can shed some light on this mystery.”
The Red Cedar Tribune was located in one of the oldest buildings in Red Cedar. The lumber baron who had established Red Cedar in the late 19th century had built it as an office building. Over the years, it had passed through several different owners, and now it provided a home for the local newspaper. Bart Stevenson had a reputation as an editor who presented both sides of an issue in a fair and even-handed manner, and that’s why Liz was curious to speak with him about the mayor and his opponent.
“Hi,” she said to the woman at the receptionist desk. “My name is Liz Lucas, and I’d like to speak with Bart Stevenson for a moment, if he’s free.”
“He’ll probably see you,” said the prim looking woman who looked like she belonged back in the 19th century with her hair tightly done up in a bun and her red and white striped blouse buttoned all the way to the top, “because it’s not quite deadline time for tomorrow’s paper, but he’s allergic to dogs, so you might want to put that big boy back in your car.”
“Of course. I’ll be back in a minute. Come, Winston.”
Glad she told me. Rather doubt I would have gotten much information from Bart if he was sneezing the whole time.
When she returned, Bart Stevenson was standing next to the woman’s desk. “Liz, it’s been a long time. Please, come back to my office.” She followed him past several desks where people were feverishly working on their computers. The paper’s office was in Red Cedar, but it covered the news from Portland to San Francisco and was a must read with everyone’s morning coffee.
“Have a seat,” he said, closing the door. “What brings you here?”
“Bart, you probably have heard that Barbara Nelson was found dead in a cottage at my spa. The coroner told me late yesterday that she didn’t commit suicide, and she didn’t die of natural causes. That means she was murdered. There were no physical signs of trauma on her body, so he thinks she was poisoned. I don’t need to tell you what this could do to my business if it gets out. He also suggested that I look into it, because he doubted that the chief of police was capable of finding the killer. As far as people who could have a motive for seeing Barbara dead, I’ve come up with a few. I’d like to run them by you.”
She proceeded to tell him who she had met with and what had been said by each of them. “I don’t know much about Gene Harris, other than he ran against Dave in the election for mayor and was beaten by him. His brother is the handyman out at my spa. Is there anything you can tell me about him?”
He rubbed his hands together, deep in thought. “I got a phone call from someone last night who had heard Seth spouting off that Barbara was murdered, but I wanted to confirm it before I printed anything. You’ve just confirmed it, but I certainly understand why you’d like this to be solved ASAP. As far as Gene goes, I think he’s an honorable man. Sure, he can’t stand Dave, and probably for good reason. He had a political consultant see what he could find out about Dave and from what he told me, it looks like Dave may have done some things that aren’t exactly considered to be aboveboard. I even wrote a couple of editorials advocating that an investigation should be undertaken to see if there was any truth to the rumors about Dave’s malfeasance in office.
“One of the claims was that Dave used his influence with the county to have the highway diverted a few miles from Red Cedar to benefit some people who ran cattle on that land. After that happened a lot of maximum donations from people who either worked at the ranches, or were relatives of the owners, made their way into Dave’s campaign fund. You can only give a maximum of $500 in a mayor’s race.
“Gene asked my opinion as to what he should do with the information his investigator unearthed, and I told him to let it go. He simply didn’t have enough evidence for me to print it or for him to put it in writing in a campaign flyer. If Gene had put his suspicions in writing in the form of a political campaign hit piece, Dave would have sued Gene for everything he had. He’s not a wealthy man, and with two kids in high school he couldn’t afford to risk it.”
“Do you think Gene hated Dave enough to murder Barbara as a vendetta for Dave winning the election?”
“No. He hates Dave, no doubt about that, but what would he gain? Everyone knows that Darcy and Dave are seeing one another, and a lot of people know that Barbara was very active in the Catholic Church. It’s not much of a stretch to assume she wasn’t big on divorce, so if Gene killed her, he’d actually be doing Dave a favor by freeing him to marry Darcy. No,” he said, shaking his head, “I can’t see that happening.”
“Well, if that’s not a scenario that will work, can you think of anyone who might have a reason to murder Barbara?”
He stuck his thumbs in his red suspenders and walked over to the window. After a few moments, he turned to her and said, “You’ve mentioned several people you’ve talked to and outside of those I can’t think of anyone else who may have wanted to murder Barbara. Let me ask you this. Is there anyone who would want to see the spa get a bad reputation because someone was murdered while there as a guest? Do you have any enemies? Is someone at the spa disgruntled? Have you fired anyone recently?”
Liz was quiet for several moments and then answered, “Bart, I’ve never even considered that possibility. I don’t do the hiring. I’ll have to talk to Bertha, she’s the one who runs the spa, but no, I can’t think of anyone. Sure, the spa is becoming popular, and I’m certain there are other spas around that may be jealous of our success, but they’re far enough away that we’re not competing for the same clients. I’ll have to think about it.”
“I wish I could help you. I’m sorry I don’t have more time to spend with you, but I need to look over some articles before I okay them for tomorrow’s edition. If you find out anything more or want to talk to me, give me a call. I’m not going to put anything in the paper about Barbara being murdered right now. I will have to put in tomorrow’s edition that her body was found because it’s common talk around town, but out of deference to you, I’ll hold off for a day or so printing that she was murdered.”
“Bart, I really appreciate your seeing me on no notice and not printing immediately that Barbara’s death was a murder. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know. Again, thanks!”
“Anytime, and for you and your spa’s sake, I hope you find out who did this sooner rather than later.”
She left the building and walked to her van. “Okay, Winston. Back to the spa. Judy should be finished with her treatment by now, and I need to talk to Bertha.”
CHAPTER 14
When Liz returned to the lodge, Judy was waiting for her in the great room, dressed casually in jeans and a tee-shirt, her face free of make-up and her long black hair casually caught up in scrunchy. Tall and graceful, and even though she was in her early 50’s, she’d never lost the ability to turn everyone’s head whenever she entered a room. She and Judy met when their children were in preschool together. They’d remained close friends for all of the years
in between.
When Judy was a young woman, she came to California lured by the film industry. In the small rural Kansas town where she grew up, she was the acknowledged beauty, but in California she was just one more beauty. Liz remembered Judy telling her about the moment she knew with certainty she’d never make it big in the movies. She was sitting in a movie director’s reception area getting ready to read for a part in a movie. Judy told her she’d looked around the room at the other women who were there to read for the part, and realized every woman in the room was just as beautiful as she was. She couldn’t handle another rejection and walked out. A few months later she married a movie producer and gave up any thoughts of trying to become a star. The marriage lasted only seven years, but Judy walked away from it with a large financial settlement.
She’d met an internet mogul from San Francisco a short time later, moved there, and married him. The marriage lasted ten years, and once again Judy managed to leave the marriage with a large divorce settlement. It probably hadn’t hurt that she’d caught husband number two in bed with their housekeeper. When she opened the bedroom door and found them in a compromising position, a light bulb went off in her head, and she knew her husband had fathered the housekeeper’s son. Something about the little boy’s appearance had always bothered her. Her husband and the little boy shared a striking resemblance to one another. She’d angrily confronted him, and he hadn’t denied it. A few days later he instructed his attorney to make sure the divorce settlement to her was generous. It may have been guilt money, but Judy felt he owed it to her. Since then there had been a number of men in her life, but not one special man. She had vowed to Liz that two marriages were enough. She made a promise to herself she would never marry again.
Liz walked over to where Judy was sitting looking out at the ocean. “Hey, lady, glad you could come up. How was your massage?” she said, giving Judy a big hug.
“It was great, but is this the guy Roger gave you? You didn’t tell me he was this big. I don’t think I’d ever worry about my safety if he was protecting me.”
“I don’t, now that I have him.” Liz turned to Winston, “Winston, I want you to meet Judy. Judy, this is Winston.”
Winston walked over to Judy, sat down next to her, and extended his paw as if to shake her hand.
“Are you kidding me? This is about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Does he do other tricks?” she asked, shaking his paw.
“He does, but I haven’t had time to go over them. Remember, I only got him yesterday, and my mind has been on a few other things.”
“I understand, and I want you to tell me everything, but first I have a question. Why did you name this place the Red Cedar Spa? I mean, I know there are a lot of red cedars in the area, but there are also a lot of other kinds of trees, why red cedar?”
“If you remember, after you and I first came here I went back to San Francisco and convinced Joe we needed to buy it. It was named ‘Spa By The Ocean’ at the time, and I kind of wanted a better name, something a little more descriptive. Anyway, I thought the forests around here were pretty spectacular, so I searched the Internet to find out what I could about them. I ran across the legend of the red cedar. It’s a Native American legend which describes the origins of the Western Red Cedar. According to what I found out, the legend talked about a generous older man who gave the people whatever they needed. When he died, the Great Spirit said a red cedar tree would grow and multiply where he was buried, and it would give the people what they needed, just as he had done. The trees would provide roots for baskets, bark for clothing, and wood for shelter. I’ve placed a piece of parchment paper in each of the cottages with the words of the legend written on it, and it concludes by saying ‘We hope the Red Cedar Spa will give you what you need.’”
“I’m impressed, Liz. Who would have thought that anyone who can cook like you do could also be so good at marketing? Nice job!”
“Thanks. Now that I’m looking at the potential for a lot of bad publicity, maybe it will help us keep the doors open. Anyway, I’m starving, and I’ll bet you are too. I’ll make some lunch for us, and I’ll tell you everything I’ve learned about the murder and the possible suspects.”
“I’d appreciate it, because I’m dying of curiosity, and I’m pretty hungry too. What are you offering?”
“Thought I’d fix a crab Louie salad. I haven’t had one in a while and it’s not something I serve at dinner. I’ve also got some sourdough bread that I’ll heat up, and that should be plenty.”
An hour later Judy sat back and said, “You’ve definitely had a few full days. I may have to move here just to make sure you’re not getting into any trouble. Seems like you have your hands full at the moment. Would you mind if I lived here permanently? You could cook all this fabulous food, and I could just sit and look at the ocean and pretend I know something about solving crimes, but I do love it here. What’s next on today’s agenda?”
“You know you’re always welcome here. As far as this afternoon’s agenda. I have a facial at 2:00, and you have one at 3:30. I took the earlier one so I could be back in plenty of time to get tonight’s dinner ready. We have a full house.”
“I’ll help. Just tell me what to do.”
“Thanks. I meant to ask you what you thought of your massage therapist this morning. She was the therapist who gave Barbara, the woman who was murdered, a massage the day she died.”
“I like her. I’m not real big on talking when I’m being worked on, but she gave a great massage and couldn’t have been nicer. I really don’t have much of anything to say about her.”
“Okay. I’d also like your opinion on the woman who’s going to be giving you your facial this afternoon. She gave a facial to Barbara the day she died.”
“Will do. Anything else I need to know or do?”
“Not that I can think of. Why don’t you go back to your cottage and relax until your facial, or feel free to stay here and look at the ocean. I need to talk to Bertha before I have my facial, and I don’t have much time. I promised Roger I’d take Winston with me everywhere I go for the time being, so he’ll be coming with me when I have my facial.”
“Like I said when I talked to you on the phone, any guy who gives a woman an expensive present like that is pretty serious about her.”
“Come on, Judy. He gave me a dog. It’s no big deal.”
“Yeah. Well, believe me, he spent as much on that dog as he would have spent on a very expensive diamond bracelet, and if he’d given you expensive jewelry I don’t think you’d be saying, ‘Come on, Judy’ in that tone of voice, would you?”
“Hadn’t thought about it that way. No I probably wouldn’t.”
“I think I’ve made my point,” she said walking over to the door. “What time is dinner?”
“Wine and appetizers are at 6:30. Dinner is served at 7:15. Why don’t you come around 6:00 or so, and we’ll have a chance to compare facials.”
“Consider it done. See you then. Bye, Winston.”
Winston gave a short bark at being acknowledged and raised one of his paws.
You have got to be kidding me. If the spa goes south, just might put him in the circus.
CHAPTER 15
Liz knocked on the door marked “Manager” and entered the large office that overlooked the ocean. “Bertha, do you have a minute? I need to talk to you.”
“Of course. You sound like you’re serious, what is it?”
Liz told her about the conversation she’d had with Bart regarding the possibility that the spa was being targeted in connection with Barbara’s death. “You’re the one who does all the hiring and firing. Have you fired anyone recently or have there been any disgruntled employees that you can think of?”
Bertha was quiet for a few moments, deep in thought. “Liz, I can’t think of anyone who has been unhappy. There seems to be a genuine camaraderie among the employees at the spa and, believe it or not, I can’t remember ever having to fire anyone. You pay well, and the employees se
em to love working here. Just to give you an example of the tight knit group we have, I just hired a facialist by the name of Gina. I think you briefly met her the other morning. She was the one who gave Barbara her facial prior to her death. Anyway, the day I hired her she was talking to a couple of the employees at the spa about finding a place to live, and two of them offered to let her share the cabin they were renting.”
“I thought that’s pretty much what you’d say. I was sure if there had been a problem, you would have alerted me to it. That’s interesting about Gina. I’m having a facial in a few minutes from her. I didn’t realize she was that new.”
“She is, and I’ve gotten very good feedback on her. I called the spa she’d been working at previously, and they gave her a glowing referral. They were sorry she’d left, but knew she was ready to move on to a bigger spa.”
“Well, I guess that’s a dead end. If you think of anything else, let me know.” She turned and was walking towards the door when Bertha called her back.
“Liz, there is something I meant to tell you. I’m sure it’s nothing, and with everything that’s happened over the last couple of days, it slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”
“I can certainly understand something slipping your mind. What is it?”
“When I came to work the morning I found Barbara, I noticed that the security lights weren’t working. They come on at 6:00 p.m. this time of year and stay on throughout the night and don’t go off until it’s fully light. I think this time of year they’re on until 7:00. That particular morning I came to the lodge a little early, because I had to take Hank to work since his car was in the shop. You know he works as the manager of the supermarket in town, and he wanted to be there about 6:30, so I probably got here about 6:40. Anyway, I noticed the security light we have as you turn off the highway onto the lane wasn’t on. Then when I drove up to the lodge parking lot, I noticed the spa and lodge security lights weren’t on either. I thought maybe a circuit breaker had blown. When Zack came back to work yesterday, the first thing I had him do was check on it, and sure enough, he had to trip one of the circuit breakers to restore the lights, and they’re working fine now. I don’t know how this fits in with anything, but as I said, I meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind.”
Murder in Cottage #6 (Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) Page 8
