A Story to Kill

by Lynn Cahoon

  He chuckled. “There are worse ways to be memorialized. I remember you telling me you were going to kill me off if you ever wrote a mystery.”

  “I was mad.” Cat remembered the fight. She’d just told him she’d been accepted into Covington’s master’s program, and he wanted her to relocate to Fort Hood, Washington, and move in with him. Not only was it a heated argument, it had been their last real fight. She’d stayed in town, met Michael, and gotten married. Seth had done his tour with the army, then come home to work for his dad on the farm. By that time, she’d already divorced Michael and moved to California. They were like ships passing in the night. After high school was over, neither had been in the same town for more than a week, until now. “Besides, you were pretty safe. I’m writing new adult paranormal stories, not mysteries.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can do whatever you want, so I’ll just stay on your good side from now on. I’d hate to be killed off in a particularly gruesome manner.” He nodded to the stairway. “Here’s our latecomer.”

  Linda heard his comment and smiled. She looked rumpled, like she’d just woken from a nap, her hair flat on one side. “A gentleman never mentions the delay caused by a lady. Didn’t your mama ever teach you that?”

  Seth walked up and offered his arm. “I apologize for the slight, Mrs. Cook. May I escort you to the chariot?”

  “Seriously, you all take yourselves too seriously. Just because her old man made her rich, doesn’t mean we should have to kiss her feet.” Billy grumbled and exited the door first, letting the screen slam right in front of Shauna.

  “Looks like you’re the only gentleman in our company tonight, Seth.” Shauna held the door open for the rest of the group.

  “Too bad Rose can’t be here to enjoy the dinner and the company,” Daisy said as she climbed into the back of the SUV and sat on the other bench seat away from Billy. By the time Cat got there, the seat next to the less-than-positive man was the only one available. She climbed in and shut the door. She was the hostess. If anyone had to sit by the grump of the group, it should be her.

  “How’s your writing going this week?” Billy asked her. Then before she could answer, he continued. “I can’t believe how much I’ve gotten done. It’s like a dam burst and the words are just flowing out of my fingertips. Maybe I’m being possessed by Tom Cook’s spirit. Could be the guy feels bad for stealing my idea, and now he’s paying me back from beyond the grave.”

  Cat heard Linda’s snort and saw her turn her attention toward them.

  Before Linda could go off on the man, Cat jumped in with her canned “why retreats are helpful” speech. “My writing is going great. I’m a big believer in writing every day to keep the story alive. I’m sure that’s what you’re feeling. And being away from the stress of everyday life makes it even more powerful. I’m so glad everyone could take time out of their busy schedule to come to the retreat. I’m sure you’ll all agree it was time well spent.”

  “Except for Tom Cook, of course,” Billy added.

  Daisy turned around. “And Rose. I’m sure she’ll wake up soon and realize this was the worst week ever.”

  The rest of the ride to the restaurant was quiet with each of the group seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

  Cat just couldn’t wait for the week to be over.

  Chapter 18

  Seth waved the waiter over to the table. “Let’s do another pitcher of margaritas.” He looked at Cat and shrugged. He, as the designated driver, had a large Coke in front of him. The rest of the party had drained the first pitcher before the appetizers had arrived and had gone through four baskets of chips and salsa already.

  “The quesadillas are coming right out,” the waiter said quickly. Cat figured he wanted to stave off a request for more chips because he took the empty pitcher and disappeared back into the kitchen area. The next time she called for a reservation, the host might just tell her that the place was full, just to keep them from eating all the food in the place.

  “So, Daisy, did you get any research done for your work in progress?” Cat turned toward the woman sitting next to her. Since Cat was paying for the dinner, she wanted to get something out of the group before they left, maybe even some quotes she could put up on the website to bring other writers in. Something other than “My husband died here” or “My sister was charged with murder.”

  Who was she kidding? The week had been a total disaster.

  Daisy set her margarita down and licked her lips. Cat could see the glaze starting to come over the woman’s eyes. “Actually, before all this craziness with Rose happened, I did a lot of great research in the stacks. The library has an amazing collection of Regency-related material, including some that was actually written in the times. Of course, that Hemingway professor wasn’t too bad to listen too, either.” She burped and covered her mouth. “His butt looked amazing in those tight jeans. I wish he liked older women.”

  Billy laughed, the sound hard and cruel. “Why do you think these old guys teach at a no-name college like this? Fresh meat every semester. I can see why that Vargas character stays around.”

  “I don’t believe all professors are here to be lecherous old fools.” Linda sipped her margarita. “Besides, that type of behavior happens in all types of industries, not just academia. Men just think they rule the world, so they act like idiots.”

  Billy grabbed the fresh pitcher of margaritas from the waiter, nodding toward Cat. “I think you’re wrong. Even our hostess had a husband that couldn’t resist the jailbait, right Cat?”

  The hair on the back of her neck bristled as she leaned forward, meeting his challenging gaze. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

  Billy shrugged, hiding a grin, obviously happy he’d scored a point in some game only he was playing. “That’s the rumor down at Bernie’s.”

  “Let’s change the subject,” Seth growled. “She’s already said it wasn’t your business so stop harassing her.” An unspoken threat hung in the air between the two men.

  Finally, Billy flung up his hands and stood. “I’m going to the bar for a real drink. Have them send my food there. You all can have the woman’s liberation party without me.”

  The group at the table was silent until Billy left the room and entered the closed-off bar area.

  Shauna was the first to speak. “It’s guys like him that make me glad I’m not bartending anymore.” She turned to Cat. “I want to say thank you again for rescuing me from that life and those people.”

  “And yet we got one in the first retreat group.” Cat looked around the table and addressed the rest of the company. “Sorry for that. I hope you can still enjoy your dinner.”

  “Honey, if you think that little snot is going to ruin my evening, you don’t know me well enough.” Linda held up a glass. “To the Warm Springs Writer’s Retreat. May you survive, thrive, and prosper.”

  The rest of the table held up their glasses and joined Linda in the toast. Just then, the quesadillas arrived and people started eating. Cat just hoped this wouldn’t be the opening and closing act on the retreat that was supposed to be her supplemental income until she could live on the book royalties.

  *

  As they drove back to the house, Billy sprawled out and fell asleep—or, rather, passed out—in the back seat, and Cat was forced to sit with Daisy and Linda. They hadn’t gone too far when Daisy, sitting near the window, had her head leaned back and was snoring.

  “I really appreciate what you said about the retreat. I know this hasn’t been an easy week for you.” Cat watched the woman’s reflection in the darkened window.

  Linda shrugged. “This wasn’t your fault. Unfortunately, you and your retreat got caught up in the middle of something that’s been festering for way too long.”

  “I don’t understand.” Cat frowned. “You don’t think Dean Vargas had anything to do with Tom’s death, do you? I mean, I know the men were rivals over that cup thing, but is that enough to kill over?”

  �
��What cup thing? You mean the Covington Cup? Larry was never in the running for that; I took second place every year I attended school here. Back then, they’d never let a woman win, it just wasn’t done. Everyone thought the only reason I was in school was to nab a husband. And of course, what did I do?”

  “You have a career, right?” Cat realized she’d never talked about what Linda did, at least before her husband started making enough to keep them well-off all by himself.

  “No. I’m the society wife. I run the household, oversee the financials, and look pretty when Tom takes me to industry parties. Of course, I tell everyone I’m working on my own book, but honestly, I haven’t written a word for years.” Linda stared straight ahead, not looking at Cat when she talked. “I can’t believe I’ve let myself just vegetate for so many years. What am I going to do now?”

  “What do you want to do? Tom must have left you financially set. I bet you could do anything you wanted, including go back to school.”

  Linda turned toward her and put on a smile that, even in the dark car, Cat could tell she didn’t feel. “I guess you’re right. Why am I being such a Debbie Downer? I probably have more money than most people earn in their lifetimes, and it’s all because my husband was unlucky enough to wind up dead before he could spend it.”

  “Look, I didn’t mean that you were better off without him.” Cat paused. She could tell she was just digging herself in deeper trouble. “I just think you need to consider your options now and find your passion. Work’s a whole lot more fun when you’re doing something you love.”

  “I know you meant well, my dear. I’m just a little tired from all the craziness this week. I still can’t believe Tom is gone.” Linda dug into her purse and pulled out a tissue, dabbing it at her eyes.

  “Did you read his manuscript? Does it talk about what happened that summer?” Cat realized Linda hadn’t said a word about Tom’s story since last night.

  “I was too beat to read last night, and today I just couldn’t bring myself to.” Linda sighed. “I really just want to close my eyes for a few minutes, if you don’t mind.”

  Cat stared out to the front of the SUV. In the driver’s seat, Seth leaned back with one arm out the window. Shauna reached up to change the radio station as they left the reach of the classic rock station they’d found on their way to dinner. Now, she searched for a new station with a stronger signal. “93.5,” she said at the same time as Seth.

  “Wow, stereo,” Shauna teased as she tuned the radio.

  “It’s been the rock station here since we were kids.” Seth caught Cat’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Cat spent a summer interning there back when she wanted to be a radio DJ.”

  “Seriously?” Shauna turned in her seat and faced Cat. “You never told me that.”

  “It was just something I explored in high school. I decided to go to college instead.” She turned to Seth when he snorted. “What?”

  Seth looked at Shauna. “She was damn good. The station offered her full time as soon as she graduated from high school. Then once she went to college, she dropped them without a second thought.”

  “I didn’t drop them. I gave two weeks. Having a job and trying to keep up with my classwork just didn’t work for me. I needed time to study.” Cat defended her long-ago decision, but in her heart she knew she had screwed up as soon as she’d turned in her notice. She had loved working at the station and the manager would have worked around her schedule, but she’d wanted to be like the other kids in her dorm, free of responsibilities besides school. She leaned back in her seat. “Okay, I kind of dropped them.”

  “Sometimes you don’t realize what you want until it slips through your fingers.” Seth’s voice was soft and for a second, their gaze met in the reflection in the mirror. Then a new song came on and a little squeal came out of Shauna. She turned up the volume on the speakers.

  “I love this song,” she declared, and started singing along full blast.

  Cat closed her eyes and thought about Seth’s words. Did he mean she should look at what she gave up? Or was it more basic than that? Did he regret letting her go so many years ago? The last fight wasn’t any different than the ones they’d had in the past. But that time, she’d started dating Michael, and before she knew it, she was married.

  *

  Cat’s phone buzzed, waking her the next morning. She’d gone straight to bed last night after they’d arrived home, the margaritas she’d consumed making her maudlin rather than provide her the typical happy buzz. Without glancing at the display, she croaked out an answer. “Hello?”

  “Don’t tell me I woke you.” Uncle Pete’s voice sounded amused. “Late night with someone I know? Don’t tell me he’s sleeping next to you.”

  Cat glanced at the other side of the bed making sure it was empty, then mentally kicked herself for looking. “I’m alone. What do you want? I’m sure you didn’t call to see if my love life had improved overnight.”

  He responded with a real chuckle this time. “Actually, you’re right. I did have a reason to call. One, we’re holding your guest for murder. The DA’s not sure he can make the charges stick so he’s getting a grand jury involved. I think he’s just concerned about all the phone calls he’s getting, demanding he find Tom’s murderer.”

  “Poor Rose, I hate that she has to go through this just to please the angry mob.” Cat pulled her quilt up around her and scooted up to a seated position.

  “Well, there is the matter that the laptop and the murder weapon were found in her room,” Uncle Pete said. “But I don’t want to talk about that. I wanted to tell you I found your missing person.”

  Cat slid her knees to her chest and felt her heart try to beat out of her chest. “You found Gloria?”

  “Actually, I found the missing person’s report. Sorry I wasn’t clear. Her parents filed it in September of that year when they hadn’t heard from her.”

  Now, her heart stopped racing and her stomach dropped. “And it was never closed?”

  “I’d love to say it’s dormant, but I talked to the original investigating officer, and he gets a call every year on Gloria’s birthday. He said it breaks his heart when he sees the display on his cell. But he still answers. Ed’s a good man.”

  “Linda said she thought Gloria moved to Europe.” Cat had really hoped the woman had surfaced by now.

  “Unlikely. She didn’t take anything from her dorm room. One day she was there, the next she was never heard from again. So Linda Cook knew this girl?” Uncle Pete had his cop voice on. “I sure would like to get her into the interrogation room and talk about a few things. But that twit of a district attorney I’m working with told me to leave her alone. I guess the Cook name still has some pull, even way out here in Colorado.”

  Cat bit her bottom lip. She had suspicions about what happened to Gloria, and it involved the dean of the English department of Covington College, but saying it aloud without anything to back it up would make her look like a conspiracy theorist. She decided to tell her uncle the facts she knew and keep her opinions private. At least until she knew more. “They were all friends in college. Linda says Larry and Gloria dated, but there was a picture in the yearbook showing Gloria kissing Tom. But maybe it was just a kiss, who knows. Or it could have been staged for the photograph. You know how it goes.”

  “Do you think they did something to Gloria?” His question was blunt but not unexpected.

  Cat shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t have anything to prove it.”

  “But you think there was something there.”

  Her head nodded, even though her uncle couldn’t see her. “Maybe. Let me dig through some of the old journals. Maybe there’s something more that we don’t know.” She hesitated. “Can you give me the mom’s phone number? I’d like to talk to her.”

  “Won’t do any good; the one in the file has been disconnected. I am a detective, you know.” His voice dropped. “Don’t push this—and be careful. I don’t want you to wind up missing like this poor
girl.”

  Cat ran her hand through her hair. “You know better than that. No one would want to keep me.”

  “I’m serious, Cat. If you think you’re in too deep, back off and tell me. I’m the guy with the badge. I’m paid to take the risks.” Uncle Pete’s warning chilled her bones.

  As they said their good-byes, she noticed he hadn’t told her not to look into the journals. Maybe he thought keeping her in the library would be the safest place for her. She glanced at her watch. Six in the morning. So much for sleeping in on a Sunday.

  She pushed off the quilt and headed to the bathroom to shower. Time to write, then she’d head downstairs to talk to Daisy and the rest of her guests before they left. The library didn’t open until after noon on Sundays. By mid-week, she and Shauna would be alone in the house again. And the world could go back to normal.

  Before she opened her word processing program, she ran a search on Gloria’s mother just to see if there was a number listed. When she found one that matched the city and state where Shauna had found the missing persons article, she wrote it down on a slip of paper.

  Staring at the number, she grabbed her cell and dialed. Reaching voice mail, she left a message asking someone to call her, leaving her number, but not any details. Maybe the mom would think she was from the college.

  Cat would play that role, if—she stopped and corrected herself—when Gloria’s mother returned her call. Positive thinking made the path easier. She grinned at her mental gymnastics and dove into her writing.

  Two hours later, she was on the first floor and heading into the dining room when she heard a noise that sounded like it was coming from Michael’s study. Frowning, she turned left and went down the hallway to his door. The large walnut door was shut tight. Cat leaned in, her ear on the cool wood. Nothing.

  She turned the doorknob and slowly swung the door open. There, sitting at Michael’s desk was Linda Cook, a laptop open in front of her and tears streaming down her face.