by Mary Maxwell
He shrugged. “Not really. Maybe eighty years or so?”
“One hundred and ten,” I said crisply. “It was built by a man named Josiah Buchanan, a successful banker from Denver who wanted a place in the country for…” I paused when I detected a ripple of impatience in Edgerly’s eyes. “…um, you know, there’s no need to recite the history of the Victorian or the families that have called it home over the years.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Why not? It’s fascinating to see how much pleasure you have in something so…” He sipped his wine. “…something so archaic and worn.”
I’d seen enough movies to know that one option at my disposal was tossing the rest of my wine in his face and storming out of the lounge. But I wasn’t really a fan of such over-the-top moves. And the wine was too good to waste on such a bonehead. Instead of dowsing him with cabernet, I took a long, slow sip, put down my glass and asked the bartender how much I owed for the wine.
“Leaving so soon?” Edgerly asked.
I smiled.
“Did I offend you or something?”
“I’m tired, Mr. Edgerly. It’s been a long day and tomorrow promises more of the same.”
He flashed the bright white Chiclets again. “So…what about my proposal?”
“What about it?”
“How soon can we close the deal?”
I finished my wine. “How about never?”
He laughed, but the sound was bitter and empty. “It’s not the Coliseum, Miss Reed. It’s just an old house. Wouldn’t you rather have a half million dollars instead of a drafty pile of weather-beaten sticks and seriously tacky ornamentation?”
My heart shuddered briefly at the mention of the sum. Then I grabbed my purse, pulled out a twenty and dropped it beside my empty glass.
“Our Victorian may not be the Coliseum,” I said through clenched teeth. “But this isn’t Rome; it’s Crescent Creek. And the people who live here, the people who love this little scrappy patch of earth, know the value of family. And history. And tradition.”
I caught a glimpse of the bartender. Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide as saucers. When she noticed that I was looking at her, she gave me a quick thumbs up.
“Well, well,” Edgerly said with another icy grin. “Maybe you’ll change your mind once you—”
I stopped him with a merciless glare. “Have a good evening,” I said. “And a good trip back to…” I blinked a tear from one eye. “…wherever you come from.”
As I slid off the bar stool, he started to say something. I silenced him with a defiant stare before leaving the lounge, crossing the reception area and stepping out into the brisk night air.
CHAPTER 28
The lavender fragrance that I’d added to my late-night bath reminded me of a sun-splashed summer day. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the inflatable pillow that my sister had given me as part of a “Welcome Home to Crescent Creek” Care Package a few months earlier.
“Thank you, Liv,” I murmured, letting the hot water melt away the aches and pains in my legs. “I will be forever—”
My phone whirred on the floor beside the tub.
“—ugh!” I moaned. “I’ll be forever taking calls way past closing time for—”
I leaned over and saw Connie Larson’s name on the display. I quickly dried my hand on a towel, grabbed the phone and swiped the screen.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She answered with a muffled giggle. “Gosh, yes! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, sitting up and trying not to splash over the edge of the tub.
“Well, you sound like you’re out of breath. Did I call at a bad time?”
“I’m in the bath,” I said. “Most nights, I like to soak and relax before I get into bed.”
“That sounds nice. I should give it a try.”
“Are you still at the Lodge?”
“No, I’m home finally. We had a very late night with a couple in the restaurant. They were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, so I didn’t want to interrupt once he asked her to dance.”
“In the dining room?”
“Uh-huh,” Connie answered. “The dining room, the cocktail lounge, the reception area. It was really sweet. And there weren’t any other guests around, so it was actually quite romantic.”
“Were they dancing to the Muzak or something?”
She sighed. “No, that was what made it even more romantic. He was singing to her.”
“No kidding!”
“It was wonderful, Katie. He sang ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ for a good forty-five minutes.”
“That’s one long version.”
“True, but I’m used to it. That’s one of Eloise’s favorite songs.”
“Eloise?”
Connie laughed softly. “Yeah. She sings all the time in the kitchen; show tunes, jingles from TV commercials, Tammy Wynette songs, a few old things by the Beatles.”
“Is she any good?”
“Absolutely! Before she went to culinary school, she was thinking about moving to New York to sing professionally.”
“Really? Those are two very different things.”
“Yeah, but they both involve creativity.”
“I didn’t know she sang, so it’s just…well, it’s surprising.”
“People used to call her a little songbird when she was growing up.”
My breath caught briefly when I heard the nickname.
“A little songbird?”
“Yeah,” Connie said. “She sang in all the school groups she could join. Plus community theater and at church and…you know, I think she even sang for the governor one time.”
“Then she must be good.”
I slipped a bit lower in the warm water to chase away the chill on my shoulders. Then I asked Connie what she’d called to discuss.
“It certainly isn’t Eloise and her singing,” she answered, sounding completely exhausted. “I wanted to let you know that I’m still trying to find the actual paperwork from all three events the other night.”
“Oh, gosh. Thank you for being so diligent. You could’ve sent a text.”
“I know,” she said. “But I wanted to hear a friendly voice.” She paused for a moment and I could hear her footsteps on a hard surface. “I just wanted you to know that I haven’t forgotten the documents you asked to see. After the poor man was found in the gazebo, I just went into a frenzy…making phone calls, arranging for alternate venues, getting the food packaged and transferred. In the rush and hubbub, I must’ve misplaced the event orders.” She sighed quietly. “I guess that’s not such a bad thing, considering the circumstances. That entire night could’ve been a worse disaster, but it all worked out in the end.”
“Imagine trying to do something like that in Denver,” I said.
“Oh, you’re so right,” Connie cooed. “That’s one of the many blessings of life in a small town like Crescent Creek. Luigi’s, Café Fleur and the VFW Hall absolutely saved the day! I’ll be indebted to them for a very long time to come.”
“I’m just glad your guests were okay moving their events,” I said.
Connie laughed. “Are you kidding! Once they found out what had happened, they all eagerly agreed. I know there was no way to predict something like that would take place. And I certainly don’t blame any of them. I would’ve done the very same thing if I had a party scheduled at a hotel on the day a dead body is discovered on the property.”
I agreed with Connie and she launched into another round of praise for the other local venues that had helped her out in a pinch. When she finished, I told her not to stress about the event orders.
“I’m not giving up yet!” she exclaimed. “I thought they’d be easy to find. But Jasper said he doesn’t know where they are. And Eloise has been home sick since the whole thing happened.”
“It would be helpful if you can find them,” I said. “But if you can’t, please don’t worry about it. You’ve been through enou
gh as it is.”
She whistled loudly into the phone. “You’ve got that right! I don’t want to ever go through anything like this again.”
“Once is too many times,” I said. “But you’re holding up really well, Connie. I hope you’re able to get some rest tonight.”
She sighed. “Well, I had a glass of warm milk along with one of the sedatives Dr. Oppel prescribed.”
“That should do the trick. Now, let’s say good night so you can start counting sheep.”
CHAPTER 29
“Did I wake you?” said the voice after I answered. “Connie gave me your number. She told me to call if I thought of anything.”
I squinted at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning. For a split second, I thought it might be Zack. But as the haziness of sleep dissolved, I realized that the guy on the other end sounded nothing like my handsome photographer.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“Jasper,” the caller said. “Connie’s cousin.”
I pushed off the blankets and sat on the edge of the mattress. Then I asked why he was calling me in the middle of the night.
“I’m sorry, Kate. I just wanted to thank you for helping us.”
“Okay.”
“And I wanted…to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“I need you to…” His voice became a slippery whisper. “…Connie would be so mad if she knew that I was bothering you this late, but I wanted to tell you…no, I wanted to promise you that I would never hurt a flea.”
Between the sloppy pronunciation and the disjointed sentences, it was clear that Jasper had been drinking.
“And also,” he continued, “that guy, you know the one I’m talking about?”
“The man in the gazebo?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. That guy…”
I waited, but there was nothing more. Then I heard ice cubes clinking in an empty glass and the sound of someone walking across a creaky hardwood floor.
“Jasper?”
“Huh?”
“You were saying something about the man that Eloise found in the gazebo.”
“She didn’t kill him!” he blurted. “No matter that he cheated on her with some rich skank and there was no reason for him to be so cruel to her. Know what I’m saying? She’d been talking about doing something to scare him, but she would never kill anybody.”
“Something to scare him?”
“I dunno wuz she…” He hiccupped. “…wuz she thinked…”
Okay, I thought. It’s time to say good night, Jasper.
“Hey.” I listened, but there was nothing on the other end. No talking. No breathing. No drunken declaration of innocence. “Did I lose you, Jasper?”
And then a muffled snort and he came back to life. “Oh, jeez! I maybe dozed off or something.” Another loud hiccup came through the phone. “I mean, I’ve been going for, like, three days straight and—”
“Jasper?”
He said my name a few times. Then he said, “What’s up?”
“Okay, I know you’re tired, but I’d like to ask you a couple of quick questions.”
“Maybe,” he said.
Don’t waste your time, the voice in my head muttered. Wait until tomorrow.
“Did you say that Eloise was dating the man found dead in the gazebo?”
He mumbled something that made no sense. When I asked him to repeat it, he said, “That’s what I was talking about. Eloise and wuzhisname.”
“His name is Alec,” I said quietly. “Were they dating recently?”
“Six weeks,” he sputtered.
“They’d been dating for six weeks?”
“No, no! That jerk dumped her six weeks ago. And then he called her and said it had been a mistake and he wanted to talk to her. I never met him when they were going out. And I didn’t know it was him when me and Shane got into a fight at the bar.”
My mind clicked the new pieces into the puzzle. Then I asked Jasper why Eloise didn’t tell Dina that she knew Alec Halstead.
“She was trying to protect me,” he mumbled.
“Protect you?”
“Uh-huh. From when I was in prison. So…when she found the guy…and he wasn’t breathing…she, like, she just panicked. Her circus got over…no, her circuits got overloaded. Like, right then she couldn’t think straight. Her brain just…has that ever happened to you? When there’s a problem and you know that you should do one thing, like, maybe call 911, but then you get all—”
“Hey, Jasper?”
“Hmmmm?”
“Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow?”
He snickered. “Izz already tomorrow.”
“Okay, listen. I’m going to hang up now. And I really think you should try and get some sleep.”
I waited to see if he’d answer, but the line was quiet for a few more seconds before I heard a metallic snap followed by infinite silence.
“Good night, sweet prince,” I said. “That hangover is going to be fierce when you get out of bed tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 30
Julia was cracking eggs into a blue stoneware bowl when I stumbled through the Sky High kitchen door the next morning at half past five.
“Oh, brother,” she murmured softly. “Somebody was up late.”
I nodded. “And somebody needs coffee.”
While she continued with her work, I trundled across the room, grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with fresh-brewed java and a drizzle of cream.
“Hot date?” Julia asked.
“I wish.”
“Bad dreams?”
I sipped the coffee, letting the steam curl into my dozy eyes. “More like a bad drunk,” I said. “Connie Larson’s cousin. He called me to shoot the breeze.”
“Jasper?”
“The one and only.”
“Why was he…” She answered her own question before finishing it. “I heard that he was arrested for a drunken scene the other night. Do you think he had something to do with the man who died at the Lodge?”
The coffee mug was warming my hands while the caffeine slowly banished the cobwebs of sleep from my brain. By the time I realized that Julia had asked me something, she was already repeating it.
“Sorry,” I said, offering a crooked, hazy grin. “Half of me is still upstairs in bed.”
She laughed, a gentle sound that was familiar and comforting. Jules was more than the chef at Sky High Pies; she was a patient listener and good friend. She knew that I still missed some aspects of my former life as a PI, and accepted the fact that I would occasionally roll through the door before sunrise after a late night caused by something besides my budding romance with Zack.
“I heard about Jasper’s record,” she said. “There are rumors floating around that he may be involved in the murder.”
“If it is a murder,” I said.
“What else could it be?”
I shrugged. “Accident. Maybe the guy slipped and hit his head.”
She thought about the possibility and agreed with a quick nod.
“I was up in Boulder yesterday,” I said, depositing my coffee on the counter and grabbing an apron. “I met the deceased man’s sister and ex-wife.”
Julia gave me a quizzical look. “Only you, Katie.”
“Only me what?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Did you go up to Boulder to snoop around?”
“I like ‘investigate’ more than ‘snoop,’ but the answer is yes. Connie asked me to take a look into the situation. She’s convinced that Jasper wasn’t involved, but has concerns that his reputation will take a big hit if people find out that he’s been to prison.”
“Too late for that,” Julia said, walking the remaining eggs back to the cooler. “People are already talking.”
“Well, this is a small town,” I said.
“And getting smaller every second,” she agreed, stepping out of the walk-in and closing the door. “I went to get a few things at the store last night and somebody
asked me if you and Zack had broken up already.”
“Are you serious?”
She nodded.
“Who was saying that?” I asked.
“Nobody important,” Julia answered. “I just wanted you to know that tongues are wagging.” She laughed and threw back her head. “But don’t worry, Katie! I shut ’em down right away and set the record straight.”
“Well, if tongues start wagging around me, they’ll get slapped into the next county,” I said. “I love living here until something like that happens.”
“I don’t disagree. It’s like after you first moved back to town; some people said it was because you fell to pieces after getting dumped by that jerk in Chicago.”
I hadn’t thought about my ex-boyfriend for weeks. Hearing the comment sent a sliver of sorrow into my heart. I stared at the whiteboard on the wall, trying to focus on the prep list. When the words kept squirming around like blurry black snakes, I decided more coffee was in order.
“Mrs. Stanhope is coming by at eleven to pick up the pies she ordered,” Julia said. “And Gladys…um, shoot! What’s her name?”
“Gladys Orwell,” I said with a smile. “She’s due at one for the three dozen Caramel Snowcaps.”
Julia whisked the eggs for a few seconds, humming something softly. Then she asked me about Connie Larson. “How’s she holding up? I mean, it’s not everyday that somebody dies at your hotel.”
“Thank goodness for that, huh? The deal with her cousin is really bugging her. But if Jasper is truly innocent, that’ll come out in the investigation.”
“Did you tell Dina about his call in the middle of the night?”
“Jules! The day has barely begun. When would I have called her?”
She smiled. “You could’ve sent her a text,” she suggested meekly.
“I’m just teasing,” I said. “I shot her a quick note as soon as Jasper hung up. I’m sure she’ll be in touch later in the morning to get the scoop.”
“And in the meantime,” Julia said, nodding at the lengthy lists on the whiteboard, “we’ll have our hands full with all of those orders.”
