by Krista Davis
Dave relaxed in his seat, still wiping off coffee spots. “Holly, I appreciate your help. More than I can tell you, actually. But this isn’t a game. This is my job. There are laws about what I can reveal.”
I felt more than a little bit ashamed. “Yesterday morning I overheard Savannah talking on her cell phone. I can’t recall exactly what she said, but she mentioned that Blanche was in town and that she was going to do something this weekend. She was crying, Dave. And I’m pretty sure she said ‘the sooner the better.’”
Dave let out a low guttural groan. He winced.
I didn’t know, and now I didn’t dare ask, what he found out about the footprints behind Savannah’s house. I had a feeling he was sorry that my information put her in a bad light. I was trying to figure out how to weasel the information out of him, when his phone beeped at him. Maybe I should ask him about Shadow’s criminal record first.
He rose from his chair with the phone still at his ear and quickly left money on the table. When he hung up, he said, “Sorry, gotta go. What is it about signs that say Road Closed that people don’t understand? Including your boyfriend, by the way. Blanche will have to wait.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I pointed out.
“Really? Then why does he keep coming here?”
That was a good question. It worried me. I thought I had made it clear that we were through. But at the moment, I had more urgent things on my mind.
We left at the same time as Weegie, Myrtle, and Sylvie. I found myself walking back to the inn with the three ladies.
“Tell us what you know about the Baron von Rottweiler,” Myrtle demanded.
I laughed. “I think you know much more about him than I do.”
“Come on,” prodded Weegie. “Myrtle won’t give up until you tell us.”
“Let’s see. He aggravated a lot of his business partners. Apparently he had several children, but I haven’t met any of them yet.”
“I’m one!” Myrtle sang with pride. “Illegitimate, of course.”
“Of course. He left his first wife for a younger woman. And I believe the first wife was destitute and had to live in her car or some such.”
Weegie gasped and stopped walking. “Just like Blanche!”
Seventeen
It was my turn to be surprised. “Blanche?”
Weegie nodded her head. “Blanche Wimmer was a mess after her divorce. She had to sleep in her car until she could make enough money to get back on her feet.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
Weegie blushed. “Don’t you read gossip magazines?”
Myrtle’s mouth dropped open. “I most certainly do not!”
“Well, everyone else does. You’re just a stick in the mud.” Weegie strode ahead with Puddin’.
Myrtle and Sylvie complained about Weegie all the way back to the inn. But I had other things on my mind.
As soon as I helped Trixie out of her coat, I hustled over to Holmes, who was eating breakfast with Ben.
“Where’s the list of clues?”
“Hi. Nice to see you, too.”
“C’mon where’s the list?”
He handed me a sheet of paper. “What’s up?”
I sat down in the chair next to him and scanned the clues. “I don’t know. The good baron is beginning to sound an awful lot like Norm Wilson.”
Holmes snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Really? Listen to this.” I read them aloud.
The Baron von Rottweiler left his first wife for a younger woman.
The Baron von Rottweiler left his first wife so destitute that she had to live in her car.
Holmes elbowed me. “C’mon, Holly. You’re not that naive. A lot of men leave their wives for younger women.”
“Do a lot of exceedingly successful women have to live in their cars when they divorce? That’s what happened to Blanche.”
“It doesn’t say the baron’s wife was successful. And what about this one?” He pointed at a clue.
The Baron von Rottweiler poisoned his second wife.
“Obviously that one didn’t happen. Savannah’s alive and well.”
“Maybe you’re right. I just never heard of anyone having to live in her car after divorce. Well, not when she was making buckets full of money. Talk about a motive for murder. He must have run off with every penny she made.”
“And yet she didn’t kill him.”
“Not then anyway.”
Holmes shot me a doubtful look. “Really? You think Blanche would have waited all these years?”
“Maybe her anger festered. Maybe she was waiting for the day she could get her revenge. Maybe that’s why she came here.”
“I can’t deny that’s a possibility, but I think Blanche has moved on. Besides, she’s not the killer type. She’s way too sweet.”
“Why, Holmes Richardson! You have a crush on Blanche!”
His face turned the color of rosé wine. “Every guy my age did. She was a big star when we were teenagers. Didn’t you have a thing for her, Ben?”
Ben pierced the yolk of a fried egg with his fork. “I was more of a comic book nerd.”
I stifled a giggle. This was a side of Holmes I’d never seen. Not that there was anything wrong with it, I just never thought about him having crushes on models. It was sort of sweet, actually. “Maybe you can meet her while she’s here.”
“Why do you think I’ve been sitting at the clue desk?”
I burst into laughter. “I thought you were pitching in to help us.” I mimicked him. “‘I love being at the inn.’”
Shelley walked up to our table. “I think you’d better order for Trixie and Gingersnap. They’ve been following me around since you walked in.”
“Sorry about that. What’s the special this morning?”
“Ham steaks with fried eggs and hash browns.”
“Sounds good. Is there a dog version?”
“Thin rounds of pork tenderloin with a fried egg and hash browns.”
I didn’t need Zelda’s powers to know they would snarf that up. “Sounds great, Shelley.”
She had barely moved away when Sylvie approached our table. “May I have a word with you?”
“Of course.”
She smiled at me and her cute dimples pierced her cheeks. “In private?”
“Yes. Of course.” I rose and walked to the front desk with her. “How can I help you?”
“Darlin’, I love this inn. It’s just enchanting. But these days, with social media and all, it only takes a second for a place to get a bad reputation.”
“Oh? Is something wrong?”
“That young man is still working here. The one who stole Weegie’s necklace. I’d hate for it to get around that you have a thief on your staff.”
I looked her in the eyes. Oma’s coaching over the years was as loud in my ears as if she were standing beside me. Always make the guest happy. Never argue with a guest. “I appreciate your concern. And I’m so glad you told me about this issue.” I thought fast. “We’ll have someone with him the entire time he’s inside the inn.”
“Really? That’s the best you can do? Honey, if I owned a beautiful inn like this, I would sure fire anyone who stole from the guests. But if the reputation of the Sugar Maple Inn doesn’t matter to you, well, then there’s not much I can do about it.”
I yearned to say, Hey, lady! There’s three feet of snow on the ground. Did you want to walk through it to get to Café Chat this morning? But I knew better. What could I say to calm her while I got to the bottom of the stolen necklace issue? I whispered, “I met with the police this morning. That’s what I was doing at Café Chat.”
“The police? Oh my word. I thought you would let him go, not send him to jail.”
There was no pleasing this woman.
“I’m glad to know that you’re taking it seriously.” Sylvie walked away, looking distressed.
It was too early for Marisol, the housekeeper, to arrive. As soon as she came, I plann
ed to have a word with her about Shadow.
I returned to my breakfast, a knot in my stomach about the problem with Shadow. But I tried to put on a happy face for the benefit of the guests.
After breakfast, Holmes and Ben volunteered to man the clue return desk in case anyone else came by to check their clues. I wasn’t at all sure I liked them becoming friends. On a completely logical level, I thought it was nice. But to my surprise, there was an impish side of me that kept thinking, No good can come of this. At least Ben was being entertained while I worked. I decided to see the bright side and hope for the best.
I hustled to the office to take care of some things, and at the dot of ten, when Marisol arrived, I jumped from my chair, startling Twinkletoes, who had been lounging on the desk.
Trixie had already reached Marisol, who just happened to have miniature treats in her pocket. She fed one to Trixie.
“Did you have trouble coming in?” I asked.
“It’s not bad in Wagtail. But I wouldn’t want to try going down the mountain.”
“Marisol, yesterday a guest complained that a necklace was missing from her room—”
“You think I took it?”
“No, no! I’m worried that Shadow did. But you were with him the whole time he was in the rooms, right?”
“Ay, this is trouble. I could have had my back to him sometimes. I opened the rooms for him, waited while he fixed the fireplaces, and then locked the doors behind him. He was never alone. But you know, a necklace—” she shook her head “—this is easy to take.” She made a swift motion with her hand as though she were grabbing something.
She was right. A necklace could be easily concealed in a hand or a pocket.
“He was very nice. So worried about getting the floors dirty. I don’t think he would steal anything.”
“Thank you, Marisol.”
“Which room was it? I’ll look around. Maybe it’s tangled in the sheets or it fell on the floor.”
“I would appreciate that. In fact, I’ll help you.” We walked up the stairs to Swim and knocked on the door. Happily, neither Weegie nor Myrtle happened to be in.
“You take the bathroom,” said Marisol, “and I’ll run the duster over the hardwood floors. Maybe I can catch it.”
The bathroom was unremarkable. It wasn’t on the floor or in the tub or among the toiletries on the counter. I walked toward the closet. Maybe it had snagged on clothing. No such luck. The closet was nearly empty.
I turned around to Marisol. “Anything?”
She held up the candlestick. “No necklace, but I find this under the bed.”
“Oh, that’s funny. It’s a weapon for Murder Most Howl. Weegie or Myrtle must have hidden it there. We better put that back.”
“It belongs to the game?” Marisol smiled. “For the next few days I will be careful to leave what they hide under the beds. I’ll keep looking for the necklace when I clean.”
“Thanks, Marisol. Geof in Stay has misplaced his money clip. Keep an eye out for it, please?”
“Of course.”
I walked down the stairs thinking about Shadow and the necklace. Instead of getting more gossip, I decided to go straight to the truth of the matter. I would speak to him and see what he had to say for himself. Wasn’t that usually better than getting misinformation from third parties?
I grabbed my jacket.
“Where are you going?” asked Holmes.
“Outside to talk to Shadow.”
“He went home to grab some lunch,” said Ben.
“Miss Holly!” Mr. Huckle sounded like a reprimanding schoolteacher. He hurried toward me. “Was that young Shadow I saw cleaning snow off the porch? I thought we decided that your grandmother should hire someone on her return.”
What could I say? I had done what I thought was best and had stepped right into a big steaming mess. “I know that’s what you advised.”
I couldn’t put the Shadow problem off any longer. “Where does Shadow live?”
“Not too far from here. I’ll go with you.” Holmes stood up.
“Think you could fill in for Holmes a bit?” I asked Ben.
“Why can’t I go with you? Holmes can stay here.”
“Do you know where Shadow lives?” I asked.
He frowned at me. “All right. I’d rather eat lunch anyway. Did you know the cook will make me a grilled cheese and prosciutto sandwich if I want? Hey, wait a minute. This Shadow fellow must have a phone. Why don’t you just call him?”
“I’d rather speak with him in person.”
“And you need an escort because you can’t find the place?”
Why was he stalling and quizzing me? I was squirming under Mr. Huckle’s scrutiny.
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “It seems he committed some kind of crime, and I need to ask him about it. I . . . I might have to let him go.”
Holmes grabbed his jacket, and Gingersnap jumped to her feet, ready to go for a walk.
I bundled up Trixie, who was the first one out the door.
Behind me, Holmes said, “I’d forgotten all about Shadow killing that woman.”
Eighteen
The cold air hit my face at the same time as Holmes’s remark knocked the breath out of me. “I hope you’re joking.”
“Nope. It really happened. I didn’t live here then but I recall Grandma Rose talking about it. It was four or five years ago.”
We walked along the sidewalk at a brisk pace.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. At least he wasn’t a thief. “Was it . . . self-defense?” I held my breath in hope.
“I really don’t know the details. I didn’t spend much time here back in those days.”
I told him about Sylvie and Weegie’s accusation.
We walked quietly for a few minutes, watching the dogs race ahead and double back.
“This probably sounds stupid,” he said, “but I don’t think stealing is necessarily equivalent to killing. I guess some people start out stealing and then get on a downward spiral and end up murdering someone to obtain money or valuables. But I’m not sure it works in reverse.”
“He was so excited that I hired him. I can’t imagine that he would have taken anything the first day.” I sighed. “But being a murderer is even worse! I should have checked him out before bringing him on the staff.” I was kicking myself mentally.
We paused and looked both ways along one of the two streets where cars were permitted. There wasn’t a sound. No engines humming, no children shrieking as they played.
Holmes looked up at the sky. “There’s more snow coming.”
We crossed the street and walked toward a small log cabin. Snow clung to the roof, but I could see green edges here and there. We walked past pine trees laden with snow and dormant rhododendrons that would surely be stunning when they bloomed in the spring. We stepped up to the front porch.
Holmes knocked on the door while I admired it. Green trim ran around the edges, but in the middle, a glass pane the length of the door was partially covered by a wood carving depicting a deer standing by a tree and drinking out of a stream.
The door swung open exactly as I was saying, “This is the most incredible thing I have ever seen!”
Shadow grinned. “You like it?”
Holmes ran a hand over the wood. “You really ought to sell these. I bet a lot of the people with cabins around here would buy them.”
“Aw, shoot. It’s nothing special.” Shadow bowed his head but I could see he was delighted by our praise.
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s very special. It’s art!” I gushed.
Shadow smiled. “Y’all come on in.” The dogs trotted inside, pausing for Shadow to pet them and wagging their tails in acceptance of him, which made me feel like the bad guy.
The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all clustered in one room with a gently vaulted roof. Giant windows on the other side of the room overlooked a valley and the mountains beyond as though the house sat on
top of the world.
“Holly,” said Shadow, “I noticed that the door to Swim is closing too tight. If you want, I could shave it down a little . . .” His voice faded along with his smile. “I guess I know why you’re here. Gosh, I’m forgetting my manners. Could I offer you a cup of coffee?”
Holmes jumped at it like Shadow had offered him something truly special.
At Shadow’s bidding, we sat down. A stone fireplace dominated the interior. Except for the sofa, the furniture was made of wood, hand-crafted no doubt. Each piece was decidedly original.
It was very tidy for a young guy. The glossy wood top of the dining table was neatly set with two woven placemats.
Trixie pawed at something under the sofa.
“Stop that,” I hissed.
Nothing doing. She was determined. She lay on her belly and tried to wedge her head under the sofa to reach it. Still no luck, but she had gained Gingersnap’s interest.
When Shadow brought us steaming mugs of coffee, both dogs had their rumps in the air and their noses crammed under the edge of the sofa.
Shadow chuckled at them. “What’s going on, guys?”
He knelt and in a nanosecond stood up with the elusive item in his hand—a dog cookie in the shape of a bone. “I had a dog visitor last night. He must have left this under the sofa. Can they have it?”
They were looking at it the way I look at doughnuts. “Sure.”
Shadow broke it in two and gave Trixie the smaller piece. He finally sat down with his shoulders hunched forward. “Every time I think that nightmare is behind me, something happens that brings it up again. I guess I’ll always be tarnished by it.” His eyes met mine and didn’t waver. “It’s okay, Holly. You can fire me. When I told my mom about the job, the first thing she asked was if I told you about my problem. I kinda figured it was all too good to be true.”
I thought I must be an idiot. He seemed so genuine and nice that I wanted to keep him on the staff! I sought the right words to ask him what happened. “I hear someone . . . died?”
His head drooped. When he lifted it, he said, “That’s exactly what happened. Someone died. I didn’t kill anybody. I stood right up in court and said so. I never would have done anybody any harm.”
