by Krista Davis
“How’s it going?”
Holmes smiled at me and my heart fairly melted. “Pretty well but some of these clues are plain mean. Did you find out who’s revealing secrets about Wagtail residents?”
Promising that I would be right back to tell him all about it, I removed Trixie’s jacket. After stashing it in the private kitchen along with my own, I gazed at a bottle of wine. It had been a long day. I really wanted a glass of wine but that would put me to sleep in about two minutes. Instead I nuked milk for two hot chocolates and added Nutella and hazelnut liqueur. Maybe that wouldn’t put me right to sleep. I added a dollop of whipped cream to each one, carried them over to the desk, and pulled up a chair next to Holmes.
“Uh-oh,” said Holmes. “I’m being buttered up.”
“Would I do that to you?”
Holmes snorted. “You’re just like our grandmothers.” He handed me a slip of paper. “Can you believe this?”
I unfolded it.
Val Kowalchuk sleeps in the buff.
“Who would care? Isn’t that her own business?” asked Holmes.
“Hardly scandalous. Even our grandmothers wouldn’t be shocked by this.” I stared at the slip of paper. “Why would Norm think this was important to spread around? Such a harmless thing, really.”
“Norm?”
I filled Holmes in about Norm and the red envelopes.
“But why would he do that? It’s as though he intended to upset everyone in town.”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re not all from the same person . . .” I snatched up another one of the scurrilous clues and compared them. They looked exactly alike except for what they said. “How would Norm know what Val wears when she sleeps?”
Holmes drew back, away from me. “Noooo. Not Norm and Val. I can’t see them together. No, definitely not. Maybe she was kidding around at the pub and told someone she sleeps in the buff. Norm might have overheard.”
That was possible. “He was really reaching if he thought her lack of sleeping attire would upset anyone. What do you know about Savannah and Norm?”
“I barely know either of them at all. He moved here after I left. I gather he put off quite a few people with unsavory business tactics. My mom said Savannah grew up on Snowball. Very pretty, very popular. Homecoming court, cheerleader, that kind of thing.”
“She must be twenty years younger than Norm was.”
Holmes nodded. “Yep. Twenty-four. Even I heard that gossip. Apparently, her folks were thrilled that she was marrying a well-to-do businessman who would give her the good life.”
“Do her parents still live here?”
“Over on Snowball, I think. Savannah hasn’t been married to Norm very long. Seems like there was another wife before her.”
“Know of any connection she might have to Blanche Tredwell?”
Holmes kicked me gently under the table.
Blanche, so pale that even her makeup couldn’t hide it, was saying good-bye to Charlotte not five feet away from us. Blanche left with Robin.
Ella Mae in her arms, Char walked over to Holmes and me. “Holly, could you be a dear and let me into our room? Geof is out looking for clues, and he walked off with our room key.”
“Of course.” I excused myself and started up the grand staircase with her. “I saw Geof earlier. He’s really into the game.”
“He and Ian are in their element. Actually it’s nice seeing them work together. They’ve been terribly competitive their whole lives.”
“Is that what you meant when you said ‘it’s the story of his life’ last night?”
“Yes. Ian is a brilliant scientist. Internationally known with all sorts of papers and books and awards. He’s something of a superstar in his field. And then to marry someone like Blanche Wimmer! Ian sure trumped Geof in his choice of wives. I’m always reminding Geof that he’s better looking and taller than Ian.”
“Is Blanche okay?” I asked. “She seemed so pale.”
“She lost her husband.”
“You mean lost as in couldn’t find him?”
“Oh no, dear. He died.”
How could she be so calm about it? “Ian died?”
“Did I say husband again? I’ve been calling him that all day, which probably didn’t help a bit. Ex-husband. Norman was her ex-husband.”
Fifteen
“Norman Wilson? Of Wagtail?” I stopped in the middle of the hallway.
Char blinked at me and grimaced. “How utterly thoughtless of me. You probably knew him. I’m so sorry.”
Surely I had misunderstood. “Norm Wilson, who resided in Wagtail and died last night or early this morning, was once married to Blanche Wimmer Tredwell?”
“That’s right. I don’t know why she’s so broken up about it. The man was odious to her. He was very possibly the worst thing that ever happened to her.”
Char reached her door and waited for me to unlock it.
“So you knew Norm?” I swung the door open.
“Me? Oh my, no. I didn’t meet Blanche until she was engaged to Ian. Thanks for letting us into our room.”
Char closed the door behind her.
I ambled back toward the stairs in a bit of a daze. That was the connection between Savannah and Blanche. Blanche had been the first wife and Savannah the second. In the dog playground, Savannah had said to someone that Blanche was in town. And then something about not being able to wait? Now or never? What were her exact words?
A shudder rippled through me. Had Savannah murdered Norm in the hope that Blanche would be blamed? Shaking out of my funk, I scrambled down the stairs to Holmes.
“Blanche was Norm’s first wife!” I whispered.
Holmes drew back and eyed me. “For real?”
“Apparently.”
He whistled softly. “They’re the same type. Not now, of course. But doesn’t Savannah remind you a little bit of Blanche when she was young? The long blonde hair, the knockout figure. They both go a little heavy on the makeup.”
He was right about the similarities. In spite of myself, I giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“I think one of the clues about the Baron von Rottweiler said he left his first wife for a younger woman.”
“That scum!”
The two of us laughed together, releasing the tension.
I reached for the phone. “I have to let Dave know about this.”
The number rolled over to the police department headquarters on Snowball Mountain. The woman on the other end asked if it was an emergency. It wasn’t really. She told me Dave and half the force were out rescuing stranded motorists and to call back. Only emergency calls were being taken at the moment. I relayed the news to Holmes.
“You look dog-tired,” said Holmes.
“I am. Looks like things are pretty quiet. Have you had dinner? We can poke around in the magic fridge.”
“I love that refrigerator. There’s always something good in there.”
We packed up the clues and carried our drinks to Oma’s kitchen. Twinkletoes ran ahead of us. I called the dogs for their dinner.
Holmes opened the fridge and poked around. “Looks like chicken stew was the lunch special. There’s even one for the dogs. And another one for cats.”
He set the containers on the counter, and I pulled out three pots to heat them. “Is there rice in the fridge for the dogs?” I asked.
Holmes nodded. “Should I nuke it?”
“Please. Thanks for helping out. I never imagined anyone would make up fake clues about the people of Wagtail.”
“No problem. I love hanging around the inn. Besides, I’ve been going through the list of clues. I’m still not sure who murdered the baron, but I have some ideas. Listen to this.” He leaned over and read off the clue list.
The Baron von Rottweiler’s third wife is afraid he’ll kill her like he did his second wife.
I chuckled at him. “No fair. You have all the clues in front of you.”
“In spite of that I don’t
have it completely figured out. There are one hundred clues! By the way, you can be glad I spared you the drama of Charlotte and Geoffrey Tredwell.”
“What drama?” I set Twinkletoes’s food on a counter, out of reach of the dogs.
She smelled it carefully, as though she wasn’t sure it was worthy of being eaten. Apparently, it passed the sniff test because she began to eat with gusto.
“While you were out gallivanting around, Charlotte nearly filed for divorce because Geoffrey was supposed to be dog-sitting Ella Mae, and he forgot all about her.”
I couldn’t help chuckling. “Char’s a little bit clingy with poor Ella Mae.” I checked the temperature of the dog stew. Perfect. I spooned it into their bowls over the rice and set them on the floor.
“They couldn’t find her. You can imagine the scene, with Char yelling at Geof and racing up and down the stairs in search of her.”
I laughed as he described it. I could just imagine Char’s panic. I ladled our stew into deep bowls while Holmes set the table. He added a loaf of fresh sourdough bread and sweet butter.
When we sat down to eat, he went on. “They finally found her in the Dogwood Room. Seems Ella Mae hopped up on the lap of a book club lady and the two of them took a nap together. It was actually pretty cute. The lady had stretched out on the sofa and little Ella Mae was stretched out beside her in exactly the same position.”
“So Char forgave Geof?”
“Nope. I’d say he’s in the doghouse for a while.”
The wall phone rang. I got up to answer it.
Old Mr. Wiggins, the vice mayor who was filling in for Oma during her absence, said, “We just got a call from the highway department. They’re closing down the highways because conditions are so rotten. Over in Snowball, too. He said the roads look like bumper car rides. And there’s supposed to be another big storm tonight, so there’s a good chance no one will be going home tomorrow.”
I was glad I didn’t have to call everyone. I guessed that came with the territory of the mayor and vice mayor in a small town like Wagtail. I thanked him and hung up.
“The roads are closed. We’re in for another whopper tonight.”
“I can stay over and give you a hand,” said Holmes.
I swear my heart picked up an extra beat.
“You won’t mind if I bunk in your guest room. Right? Or is there a new beau I don’t know about? Wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”
I swallowed hard. A romantic evening by the fire with Holmes on a snowy night? But I knew that was wishful thinking. Pretending to be calm and cool, I said, “Of course you can stay over. Thank you for offering to help. And there are no new beaus, so you needn’t worry about that.”
We washed up the dishes and returned to the lobby.
The dining area was empty. Myrtle, Sylvie, and some of their book club friends had gathered in the Dogwood Room with a couple of bottles of wine.
Zelda walked in, bundled up head to toe. “Have you seen Leo? He didn’t come home, and I’m worried about him being out in this weather. Word around town is that we’re in for a big storm tonight.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t seen him at all.”
At that exact moment, someone screamed like she’d found a corpse.
Sixteen
She screamed again.
I dashed to the little crowd that was forming at the Dogwood Room. “Excuse me. Coming through! Excuse me!”
Sylvie wobbled precariously on top of a sofa and pointed toward the floor at either her shoes or Leo, who sat below her watching her antics as though she was fascinating.
I glanced around. Nothing was out of place. “What’s wrong?”
Before she responded, I noticed that Gingersnap and Trixie, still a respectable distance away from Leo, had pointed their noses in his direction, and their little nostrils twitched.
“That cat put something in my shoe.”
“Like a toy?”
“Like a mouse!” she screamed.
Zelda matter-of-factly picked up a shoe. “Leo does that when he likes people. It’s a huge compliment to have him bring you a gift.”
“Well, you tell him that I don’t care for dead mice!”
I peered into the shoe. The poor little gray mouse was a goner. Leo must have carried him around for hours.
“I’m so sorry, Sylvie.” I hissed at Zelda under my breath, “Get that mouse out of here.”
She smiled up at Sylvie. “I’ll bring your shoe right back.”
“Good heavens, don’t do that. It had a dead mouse in it. Are you nuts? I don’t ever want to see that shoe again.”
“We’ll reimburse you for the shoes, Sylvie,” I assured her. “May I help you down?”
Holmes stepped up from behind me and assisted Sylvie in dismounting the sofa, undoubtedly much more adeptly than I would have.
“Just let me know how much the shoes cost, and we’ll take care of it,” I said.
Sylvie shuddered. “I hate mice. Hate them! They’re filthy little germy creatures.” She flicked both hands in the air rapidly. “Ugh. That was disgusting.” Sylvie gazed at Leo, who hadn’t budged. “What’s wrong with that cat?”
One of her book club friends laughed. “Haven’t you ever had a cat? They love to bring you their catch. It’s a big honor to have them give it to you.”
“I guess I haven’t known many cats. Why is he watching me?”
“Clearly, he likes you,” said her friend. She picked up Leo, no small feat given his size, and held him in her arms. “Here, pet him.”
Reluctantly, Sylvie touched Leo’s forehead with one finger.
“He’s purring! He likes you!”
Sylvie didn’t appear convinced. To Leo she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’d better find some other shoes to wear.”
Her friend laughed and set Leo on the floor.
The little crowd dispersed, and Sylvie hobbled off wearing one shoe.
I hurried to the reception area, where I found Zelda. “What did you do with the mouse?”
“Poor little guy. I wish cats didn’t kill mice. They’re so sweet.”
“Where is he?”
“I found a little box for him. I’ll bury him in my backyard.”
I didn’t mention that her backyard was under a foot of snow. Zelda was resourceful. She’d think of something.
She glanced around before whispering, “So Holmes is staying with you tonight!”
“Where did you hear that? Honestly, Wagtail is just a gossip mill.”
“Holmes told me. I thought you might need some help tonight.”
“Don’t go getting excited. He’s still engaged. But maybe he’ll tell me more about what’s going on in their relationship.”
“My mama always told me engagements were made to be broken.”
“Zelda! I have no intention of anything like that. But it will be fun to have him around.”
“Uh-huh.” She winked at me as though she knew better.
The truth was that I wouldn’t want to break up his engagement. Not that I thought I ever could. But that was a decision Holmes had to come to on his own. And he might never decide to break it off. Maybe his fiancée was the right woman for him. I had no business butting in, no matter how much I might want to. “Now you behave.” I shook my finger at her in a teasing way. “He’s just being nice.”
“Uh-huh.”
Upstairs, via the open stairwell, I could hear people calling Ella Mae. I looked up to see Weegie trotting down the stairs with Sylvie.
“Are you okay, Sylvie?” I asked. “I’m sorry you had such a shock.”
“I’m fine, thank you. Leo sure got my heart racing. I’ll consider that today’s aerobic exercise!”
“How much do we owe you for the shoes?”
“Shoes? Oh, forget about it. They weren’t anything special. Old, worn-out walking shoes that probably needed replacing anyway. But Weegie did want to talk with you about something else.”
“What can I do for you?”
Weegie seemed reluctant to speak but Sylvie motioned to her. “I’m not one to point fingers at other people. But I thought you should know that my lucky shamrock pendant has gone missing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite. I’ve turned my room upside down.” She rested her hand on my arm. “It’s not worth much. It’s not real gold or anything. I really shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”
Sylvie’s mouth skewed. “It sure looks like it’s real gold. What you need to know, but Weegie is reluctant to tell you, is that you have a thief on your staff.”
Zelda’s wide eyes met mine.
“Weegie last saw it on her dresser just before that young man replenished the firewood in the bedrooms.”
“Shadow?” I asked.
Weegie cringed. “He was very nice.”
Sylvie tilted her head at her friend. “Was it nice of him to take your necklace?”
“I do so hate to blame anyone . . .” muttered Weegie.
Sylvie scoffed. “It had to be him or the housekeeper. No other strangers were in your room, were they?”
“Please don’t fire him because of this,” said Weegie.
“Now you leave that up to Holly.” Sylvie shook her head. “Today he’s nabbing a worthless necklace but tomorrow it might be something valuable. She can’t afford to let that happen.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said for the millionth time, wishing there was something more that I could say. “Could I help you search for it?”
“Thank you but that’s really not necessary. I wouldn’t have said a word about it if Sylvie hadn’t seen me looking for it. I’ll give the room one more good sweep before we leave tomorrow.”
I waited until they had vanished from sight before whispering to Zelda, “Do you know anything about Shadow being a thief?”
She seemed surprised. “Not a thing! I like Shadow. And you know Marisol wouldn’t have taken it.”
That was true. We loved Marisol, the housekeeper. She was totally dependable and aboveboard.
Maybe that ugly clue about Shadow having a criminal record wasn’t true. But then what had happened to the not-so-lucky shamrock necklace?
