by Krista Davis
Guests began to drift in along with residents of Wagtail. Mr. Huckle took their coats and hung them on a couple of racks he had discovered in the basement. I gathered they were delighted to find hot beverages waiting for them. They introduced themselves to one another and chatted excitedly.
Charlotte Tredwell still carried Ella Mae in her arms. The little dog now wore a pink dress with a bow just above a double ruffle on her rump. Geof carried two mugs of hot chocolate.
“How are things going?” I asked.
“Char hasn’t set that poor dog down for more than two minutes, except to change her clothes. She’s not a doll,” Geoffrey sniped at her. “Let her play with the other dogs.” He pointed at Trixie. “See the Jack Russell? She’s not wearing a dress.”
Trixie looked up at us and at Ella Mae as if she understood every word.
I had a feeling Geof might not be exaggerating. “Trixie loves to pal up with other dogs.”
Confronted by the two of us, Char reluctantly set Ella Mae on the floor.
Both dogs wagged their tails and commenced with the proper protocol for introducing themselves.
“See? Now that’s more like a dog,” said Geof.
Char glared at him. “Your brother’s here.”
The second he looked away, she bent to pick up Ella Mae. But it was too late. Trixie and Ella Mae had already scampered away to play.
Char’s right hand flew to the base of her neck. She looked on, distraught.
I didn’t really know what to say. I hoped that Char might loosen up a little bit over the weekend. “Don’t worry about her. She seems to be having fun with the other dogs. Socialization is so important. Maybe this will be an opportunity for Geof to warm up to her.”
“I think he’s jealous of all the attention Ella Mae is getting.” She glanced toward her husband, who had moseyed over to speak with a smaller man. “It’s the story of Geof’s life. Someone else always gets all the attention.”
Geof’s brother was short and slight, but they had the same nose and grayish-blue eyes, leaving little doubt that they were related. He unsnapped the leash on an elegant saluki, who didn’t budge from his side. Long fur flowed over the saluki’s ears. Her gentle eyes appeared wary of the other dogs. The gorgeous, slender cream-colored dog appeared to be shy.
Former supermodel Blanche Wimmer stood beside the saluki, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
Blanche knew how to make the most of her figure, even though it was no longer model-slim. She wore tight leggings in a shiny bronze fabric. High-heeled ankle boots made her legs look even longer. But she had covered up her midsection and bottom with an oversized black sweater that slid off one bare shoulder. That little bit of flesh drew the eye upward. Her face had filled out and there was no way to hide the roundness under her chin, but Blanche was still startlingly beautiful.
Val called to me, and I excused myself, but as I turned away, Blanche strolled over to Charlotte, and I heard her ask, “Is he here?”
It struck me as odd but wasn’t really any of my business. Still, a little part of me wondered who they were meeting.
Val enlisted my assistance to check in the participants. Not exactly rocket science. I simply ticked off the names on a list and handed each one a little Murder Most Howl tote bag that included the rules, the rhymes that led to clues, a deep dark secret about the person, a pen, a notebook, and a host of goodies from Wagtail merchants.
I recognized Max Hemmerich from the Tall Tails Bookstore. Snow glistened on his silvery hair and well-trimmed beard. He removed the ever-present reading glasses he wore around his neck on a cord and wiped them clean.
Lillian Elsner stood near him with her precious Yorkshire terrier, GloryB. Svelte and blonde, Lillian had been a guest at the inn. She liked Wagtail so much that she bought a house and opened a dog accessory store in town. After years as a politician’s wife in Washington, DC, Lillian enjoyed the slower pace of life in the mountains.
While most of the other dogs mingled, GloryB watched Lillian carefully. She sat like a perfect angel, and held up one paw. Lillian laughed, reached for a dog cookie, and fed it to her.
The next blast through the door was my own Aunt Birdie. She allowed Mr. Huckle to take her coat as though she thought she were the queen of England. She made a show of parading over to me and kissing the air near both of my ears. “Who is the stunning man with that showy dog?” she whispered.
“Either Geof or Ian Tredwell, and they’re both married.”
“Mmm,” she murmured. “Pity.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Why, sugar—” she raised her voice “—I’m interested in everything my darling niece does. Besides, it’s our family inn. I thought you might need some help.”
What was she up to now? It might be a family inn but not on her side of my lineage. Birdie was my mother’s older half sister, and as near as I could tell, that side of my family had fled Wagtail to get away from her.
Not having attracted the attention she evidently desired, Birdie floated off to the refreshment table, where she struck up a conversation with Max.
Norm Wilson wandered in and wasted no time introducing himself and shaking hands with visitors. I observed him for a few seconds, impressed by his ability to talk with total strangers as if they were friends. He worked his way through the room like a politician.
I understood Val’s irritation with him, though. I wouldn’t like him, either, if I felt I had overpaid for something because of him. But at the moment, he seemed congenial and friendly. That was the only side of the man I had ever seen. I noticed that he had changed to duck shoes for the snow. Still no socks, though.
When everyone was seated and Val began to speak, one bag remained and one name was missing a checkmark: Robin Jarvis. I rose and stretched, noting that many of the local townspeople and merchants were in attendance.
After welcoming everyone, Val went over the basic rules. “Now don’t forget to visit the stores. There’s a list of participating merchants in your bags. In a small place like Wagtail, rumors fly around town, so don’t be afraid to chat with them and ask questions. They might know the one thing that will help you put it all together. The first person or team to figure out who the killer is, his or her motive, and how he or she committed the murder wins. The first one to figure it out and tell me will be the winner. But don’t worry, we have other prizes, too. To win, though, you must tell me.”
While Val explained about the clues, I helped myself to a mug of hot cocoa. I cupped it in my hands, and took a sip, thinking things were going fairly well and that Zelda had been wrong, when a loud thunk was followed instantly by darkness.
The fireplaces still blazed in the dining area and the Dogwood Room, casting long shadows. Everyone seemed a little sinister in the dim rooms.
The sound alarmed several dogs, who jumped to their feet. Trixie took it calmly, but Gingersnap, usually the calm one, shot straight to me and jammed her head between my knees, her entire body trembling. I ran my hands over her shoulders, murmuring soft reassurances.
I couldn’t help thinking of Mr. Huckle’s sound advice. With Gingersnap glued to my side every step of the way, I grabbed a butane lighter from the kitchen and walked around calmly, carefully stepping over dogs, cats, and assorted bags and purses, lighting the candles I had set out earlier.
Most people took it in stride, and I heard a few jokes that questioned whether it was staged for their benefit. But when I passed Blanche, I noticed that she clutched her husband’s hand as though she was frightened. Her saluki didn’t seem to care.
Weegie’s poodle had jumped into her lap. But little Ella Mae dodged around the room, sniffing everything as though nothing had happened.
Val handled it like a pro. So smoothly that I’d have thought the power outage was intentional if I hadn’t known better. She positioned a large candle with three wicks so it lighted her face from below, giving her a frighteningly evil appearance. “Someone will be murdered tonight,�
� she intoned. “Each one of you has known this person in some way. Your connection to him is in the packet you received tonight. Some of you were in love, some of you hated him, and some probably loved and hated our victim. Whether you share your secret connection to the victim is up to you.”
I had to admit that the candles on the fireplace mantel and tables around the room added a certain ambience that wouldn’t have existed with electric lights. It hadn’t ruined the evening after all. On the contrary, it was charming and a little bit eerie. Perfect for a murder mystery event.
Val continued. “Three weapons are hidden in Wagtail. You have clues to help you find them. The weapons may be used to obtain information and clues from other players. If you are approached by a player with a weapon, you are obligated to share your clues and your connection to the victim. As you can see, the weapons are very powerful.”
I lighted a candle on a side table next to an elderly man whom I hadn’t noticed before and a horrified shriek escaped me.
Four
The old man slumped in his chair, one arm hanging limply over the side. His head sagged forward, his eyes closed. His white hair glowed in the candlelight. A bushy mustache covered his upper lip. He wore a black turtleneck sweater.
I felt completely foolish. My scream had drawn everyone’s attention and agitated the dogs. Gingersnap, who had stuck close to me, barked once and sniffed him from a safe distance. Trixie raced to my aid, and I noticed Twinkletoes prowling close to the man’s feet with great caution.
He had probably fallen asleep. I grabbed the candle next to him and held it near his chest for a closer look. The flame flickered, throwing distorted shadows on him.
I stretched my other hand toward his shoulder to give him a little shake.
A gust of air blew out the candle at the exact moment that he grabbed my wrist.
This time I screamed like the dead had come to life and jerked my hand away. All the dogs bounded toward me. One of them howled, long and mournful, probably the basset hound.
But the man didn’t get up. He didn’t even lift his head. I peered at him, reluctant to try to touch him again.
I nudged his shoe with my foot. No reaction. But in the dim light, I could see Gingersnap and Trixie wagging their tails.
Someone behind me chuckled. I turned to see Geof, who uttered dryly, “Mr. Boddy, I presume?”
I recognized his reference to the victim in the game Clue.
Participants sprang to their feet and clustered behind me. Still recovering from my fright, it took me a minute to get out of their way. I scooted to the side as they made note of his condition.
“He was poisoned,” whispered Myrtle.
Mere inches from his hand, barely visible on the side table in the dark, the silver of the skull and crossbones on the green poison bottle glinted in the light of the fire.
I staggered away and collapsed in a chair.
Val slid into the chair next to me. “Wow! If I had known you were such a good actress, I would have asked you to play a role.”
I kept my tone as level as possible. “I wish I had been acting.”
“What?”
“He seized my wrist.”
Val burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. Truly I am. He wasn’t supposed to do anything like that. Your little shock aside, it played out much better than I could have hoped. The timing of the power outage was perfect.”
“Yeah? You’re not the one who has to keep the inn fireplaces stocked with wood.”
“I thought you had a handyman for stuff like that.”
“He quit this afternoon.”
“What lousy timing. Okay, look. You came through for me when we had to move the meeting. I’ll help you with the wood.”
I couldn’t see her very well in the dark, but I was touched by her offer. She had to be exhausted. I didn’t want to gush too much, though. I had a feeling that Val was the type to brush off sentiment. “That’s nice of you, thanks. I’ll give you a call if it gets to be overwhelming.”
“Good deal.”
I watched people milling around in the dark. “So this is how it begins? With me screaming and making a fool of myself? I hope that’s not how it ends! Who is that guy anyway?”
“The Baron von Rottweiler. He lives a very low key, under-the-radar life in Wagtail.”
The flames from the fire lighted her face just enough for me to see her. “You know what I meant. Who is posing as the Baron von Rottweiler?”
“I almost missed the hot chocolate! Have you had any yet?” Val bounded from her seat and headed for the table with drinks.
A very evasive maneuver if you asked me. Had she conned Mr. Huckle into posing as the Baron von Rottweiler? I dismissed that idea. The legs were too long. Mr. Huckle was a small man.
Now Val had piqued my interest. In the glow of the fire, the people who milled around the Baron looked spooky. Several local people checked him out as well. I was glad to see their enthusiasm for the game.
“Excuse me. Perhaps you could help us?” Candlelight flickered on Blanche Wimmer Tredwell and her husband. He held out his hand. “Ian Tredwell.” A receding hairline made Ian’s broad forehead appear very large. He seemed pleasant but earnest, and at that moment, his brow creased into waves of wrinkles. “My brother mentioned that you have a back exit somewhere. I’m afraid we’ve lost him in the crowd. Would you be kind enough to show us the way?”
“Yes, of course.” I picked up a lantern and led them and their saluki through the hallway. I didn’t want to be nosy but I asked, “Is there a problem?”
“No!” said Blanche a little too quickly.
I glanced at the two of them as we walked.
Ian appeared to be calm. “We don’t like to attract attention. You understand.”
I guessed he meant his wife. No matter, it was easy enough to show them to the registration lobby. I unlatched the door and handed them the lantern. “You’ll probably need this. Walk straight ahead for a few feet, then turn to the right. The walkway will bring you directly to The Blue Boar Restaurant and the main part of town. Can you find your way from there?”
They assured me that they could and strode off into the dark night. I locked the door, mentally kicking myself for not bringing two lanterns. When I turned around, a faint beam from outdoors shed some light on the room. I peeked out the window. The restaurants and stores were all well lighted! I smelled a rat.
I made my way back through the hallway to the main lobby.
The crowd had begun to thin. A few guests clustered near candles, looking over the clues and their secrets. Others took lanterns and made their way up to their rooms. Several people asked me for directions to a bar or a restaurant where they could chat over drinks.
Instead of cleaning up, I poured myself another cup of steaming hot chocolate, added a nice dollop of whipped cream, and handed Gingersnap and Trixie dog cookies.
I picked up a kitty treat and looked around for Twinkletoes. It was her habit to sit on the stairs at this time of night. I suspected she liked being petted by guests and told what a pretty kitty she was. But tonight, I didn’t see her anywhere.
And suddenly, with a clunk as loud as the previous one, all the lights came back on. I turned my head immediately to see the Baron von Rottweiler more clearly, but the chair he had occupied was empty. Perfect timing for him to vanish before the lights came back on. I grew very suspicious. Why was Val keeping his identity secret?
The electricity was greeted with cheers, applause, and another visit from a trembling Gingersnap, who clearly didn’t appreciate loud noises. I renewed my determination to find a handyman so I wouldn’t have to worry about stocking the wood-burning fireplaces in case the inn really lost power.
Just to be on the safe side, I thought I’d better check the reception doors in case anyone else had left that way. Gingersnap and Trixie joined me on the walk back to the reception area.
Mr. Huckle stepped off the elevator as we passed by. I squinted at him. “You didn’t come fro
m the basement by any chance, did you?”
He smiled. “Why, Miss Holly! Are you accusing me of something?”
I was, actually. “That power outage was planned.”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“You stinker!” He was so darling, though, with that sweet old face and proper butler attire that I couldn’t be angry with him. “Next time I’d better be in on the tricks.”
“By all means.” He suppressed a smile as he walked away, confirming my belief that he’d recommended putting out candles because he knew he would be shutting down the power temporarily. What a scamp.
I was a little bit miffed that he and Val hadn’t let me in on their plans, but maybe it had worked out better that way. If I had known there would be a dead man, I would have pretended to scream, and it wouldn’t have sounded as authentic.
I straightened up and made sure everything was in order in the registration lobby. Our little gift shop was locked, as was the door to the basement. Trixie raced ahead of me when we returned to the main lobby but I noted that Gingersnap stayed close by, no doubt fearful of yet another big bang. I double-checked the doors to the back terrace that overlooked the lake and the mountains to be sure they were securely locked.
The snow was really coming down. I paused for a few minutes to watch it in the beams of the outdoor lights. There was just something magical about snow. Everything seemed so peaceful.
I tore myself away from the windows to clean up the leftovers—not that there were many. I loaded platters in my arms and carried them to the commercial kitchen. On my final trip, I told Trixie to behave. “Gingersnap, you’re in charge of her. I’ll be back very soon.”
The commercial kitchen was the only place in the inn where dogs and cats couldn’t go. Although the town had asked for official waivers from the laws regarding animals on the premises where food was served, everything was still pending. They skirted the law by keeping animals out of the food preparation areas.
