by Lynn Cahoon
“I ran into Dante again this morning.” Cat paused as she heard Uncle Pete’s long, drawn-out sigh. Before he could say anything, she went on. “Just let me talk, then you can lecture me about staying away from the bad guys, even though this was so not my fault.” She told him what Dante had said about his nephew trying to scare her a few months ago and that he’d had a long talk with the kid and it wouldn’t happen again. When she finished, her uncle didn’t respond. “Are you still there?”
“I’m just trying to figure out what motive Dante’s nephew would have to play these pranks on you, unless that’s all it was. Maybe the kid was in Michael’s classes and thought it would be funny to scare the widow?” Cat could hear Uncle Pete’s pencil tapping on his desk.
“That’s pretty creepy.”
Uncle Pete cleared his throat before responding. “Yes, it is, but it may not be the worst thing a member of the Cornelio family has done recently.”
Chapter 17
Uncle Pete’s comment whirled in her head. Of course, he’d hung up after dropping that bombshell; some emergency at the college made him cut the conversation short. He promised to try to come for coffee tomorrow evening even if he couldn’t make dinner. Cat took out a notebook and, from what she could remember, made a timeline of the prank calls that occurred during the last retreat. She’d thought maybe it had been one of the guests since it seemed to stop as soon as the retreat ended. Now she wondered if it had only stopped so it would look that way.
She pictured the smiling bartender and wondered why the kid would want to scare her. He’d said his major was in accounting, but had he taken any classes from Michael?
Cat heard the distant chimes of her grandfather clock downstairs. She had an hour before she would be hosting dinner. Looking in the mirror, she tried to push down the cowlick that had formed while she lay on her bed watching the home-decorating channel. The brothers in the show had been putting in crown molding, and Cat had been fascinated at how it made a room look more historical. None of the guest rooms had the treatment, and she had wondered what it would cost to install.
Now she realized she’d been trying to focus on anything else besides her talk with Dante. And she’d forgotten to mention when she talked to Uncle Pete that she’d seen Dante at the bar with Brit. She felt like she was whacking moles. If she got one to stay down, two others popped up to distract her.
She gave up and jumped into the shower to wash her hair a second time. Dressed and ready, she glanced at the notebook. This Michael stuff just kept coming up. The more she tried to sweep it under the rug, the more it kept showing up. At least now, with the help of Dante, Martin should be leaving her alone. If she could trust Dante. The man was like a bad penny, he kept just showing up at the oddest times. Who knew what kind of control he had over his nephew. The one thing that bothered her was how did he know Michael used to give her carnations? Or had it been a lucky guess?
She headed downstairs and practiced putting on a smile until it felt comfortable. Time to play retreat hostess.
*
Shauna pulled her aside. “Hey, I’m glad you’re down early. I have something to show you.”
Cat followed her over to the lobby desk. “What’s going on?”
“I found it.” Shauna held up a manila folder.
Cat took the folder from her grasp. “You found what?” She opened the folder and found a paper with Covington College printed at the top.
“The contract we were looking for. Along with agreeing to provide a professor for an hour each month, it also outlines the library privileges for our guests in exchange for including the college on our website and advertisements.” She held her arms up in triumph. “Ta-da! The magic of paper files. I bet this got filed under the wrong year over at the school, which is why Professor Turner didn’t find it. And I hear that the university filing department has been using interns to run the file room and has to evaluate the last two years because the system is such a mess.”
Cat read through the contract. Not only did they have a one-year agreement, but the contract allowed for a five-year extension if the advertisements were published in venues with a national distribution. “Make sure you send the marketing department a copy of our Writer’s Magazine ads. That reach isn’t just national, it’s international.”
“I’ll send it next Monday with a cc to Professor Turner asking who he’s going to schedule for our December retreat.” Shauna grinned. “At least one thing turned out good today.”
“After this dinner, it will be two.” Cat hugged her friend. “Thanks for handling this, I’d almost forgotten about Dean Turner’s request.”
“Again, it’s what you pay me for, remember? We’re in this together, no matter what.” Shauna took the file and put it in the top drawer. Then she turned her head toward the stairs. “Well, I’ll be …”
Cat turned to see what she was looking at and saw Nelson. He was in a black suit with a tie and looked like he could rival Dante in formal-dress competition. He smiled as he crossed the lobby. “Ladies. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“You’re actually the first one here.” Cat gave him a head-to-toe once over. “I have to say, you clean up good.”
“Now you’re just making me blush.” Nelson fiddled with his pocket handkerchief. “I didn’t want to embarrass you all at the retreat dinner.”
“Well, you make me look like the help.” Seth came through the kitchen door. He wore good dress slacks and a dress shirt but no jacket. He held his hand up for a high five with Nelson. “You are going to be on fire with the ladies tonight.”
Cat didn’t think it was possible, but Nelson’s cheeks burned a bit redder after Seth’s pronouncement.
Nelson dropped his head. “All I want is to look normal. Maybe I should go change?”
“Are you kidding? You look amazing.” Cat took his arm and led him away from the stairs. She glanced at the clock. “Five more minutes and we’ll start calling rooms. We have a reservation, people.”
A flurry of sound echoed on the stairs. “We’re here, we’re here …” Bella called.
Bella, Jennifer, Christina, and Jeffrey pounded down the stairs. The women were in conservative cocktail dresses and Jeffrey wore a suit, like Nelson.
Seth moved closer to Cat. “Now I am officially underdressed. Do you want me to go change before we leave?”
“You’re fine.” She patted his blue dress shirt. “But maybe we can keep a jacket here in the coat closet just in case you feel uncomfortable next month.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He kissed her full on the mouth.
“Okay, love birds, we need to go. I’m starving.” Bella chuckled and started to lead everyone out to the SUV.
Seth grabbed the door before Bella could reach for the handle. “Let me. Welcome to the closing ceremonies for the Warm Springs Writers’ Retreat.”
As the group filed out into the cold, Seth waited for Cat to lock up the house. “Maybe you can tell them the story of how you were a radio DJ?”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should just shut up?”
He chuckled and held her arm as they went down the stairs to the walkway. “You’re such a feisty one.”
“And that’s a surprise to you now? What, don’t you remember high school at all? We were always fighting over something.” Cat held his arm tightly.
“Discussed. We never fought; we always discussed.” He helped her get in the passenger seat and closed the door.
The guests kept the chatter up during the ride, discussing the advantages of first-or third-person point of view. She looked at Seth who stared ahead at the road. “You’re bored, aren’t you?”
“I’ve heard people fight over the weirdest things. This isn’t weird.” He smiled at her in the dark. “Besides, you’re probably digging this.”
“Get a bunch of writers together and you’ll never know what will come up to talk about. That’s why I love hosting these events, even with the crappy two sessions we’ve had so far.”
He reached out and took her hand in his and kissed the top of it. “Then I can deal with any conversation. Besides, maybe I’ll learn something.”
Their dinner reservations were at the local Mexican restaurant down the highway toward Denver. Blanco Montanas had opened up a few years ago with a young and hungry chef and rave reviews. Cat enjoyed the more casual dining atmosphere with the gourmet menu. As they pulled into the parking lot, she announced, “I am so getting a margarita.”
Seth laughed as he parked the SUV near the door. The parking lot appeared clear of ice and snow, and they had scored a rock-star slot. “I kind of expected that.”
“Don’t tell me I’m drinking too much.” Cat glanced behind her as the retreat guests piled out of the vehicle. “I’m not, am I?”
“After what you’ve gone through this week? I’m surprised you’re still standing.” He climbed out of the car and came around to open her door. “I was teasing you.”
“I just worry. I don’t want to ruin the guests’ last night with the retreat.” She put on a smile. “There, now do I look like a successful author?”
“You look like a very pleasant, and hot, author.” He took her arm and remote locked the car. “Stop stressing. It’s just dinner. Everything will be fine.”
As soon as she walked in the candle lit dining room, Cat knew that Seth’s prediction had been off. Way off. Near the back of the room, Dante Cornelio sat with three other men. He saw their group enter and held up a wine glass in greeting.
“Seriously, that guy’s getting on my nerves. It’s like he has a spy in the house telling him exactly where you’re going to be and when.” Seth growled in her ear as he held her chair out for her.
“Relax, remember? We’re just having dinner.” She looked around the table as their waiter came for drink orders. “I’m having a margarita. Who’s with me? Shall we do a pitcher for the table?”
Jennifer and Nelson joined her. The others ordered beer and wine; Seth ordered a large iced tea with lemon. He grinned at her over the menu after the waiter had left. “Sometimes it sucks to be the designated driver.”
“Maybe I should take turns with you.” She leaned back as the waiter brought her glass and poured her first drink. Sipping the strawberry mix, she shook her head. “And maybe not. This is perfect.”
“You’re evil, you know that right?” Seth squeezed her thigh under the table, raising his eyebrows in response to her squeak of surprise.
Cat quickly ordered her meal along with a few different appetizers. After the waiter left, she scanned the table. “So this is the place where we talk about what worked, what didn’t work, and what you would do differently if you came to a second retreat.”
Bella set down her wine glass. “I’ve gotten so much done, mostly because of the local-history resources you and the library have tied me into so I’m happy with the retreat, although it could be a few days longer.”
Nelson nodded. “I can’t believe how much writing I’ve gotten done in the last week. I mean, even with the mandatory library trips at the beginning, I’ve written more this week than I did in the last six months. And it’s good stuff.”
“I can’t say that.” Jennifer took a sip of her beer. “I’ve been editing since I got here and realized how much work I still have to do on the book. Of course, it’s better to clean it up before sending it off, especially since this work is also going to be my thesis project. I’m going to have to bust my butt to get everything done by end of semester in a few months.”
Cat noticed neither Christina or Jeffrey joined into the conversation. She understood Christina’s hesitance to rank her week, so she looked toward Jeffrey. “So how has the retreat been for a poet? I’m interested if the structure works for a writer in a different medium. What made you choose Warm Springs Retreat?”
Jeffrey looked like she’d stuck him with a knife rather than a simple question. “I don’t know. I guess someone said something about how much work they got done here, and I wanted to see if it would work for me.”
“And did it?” Cat pressed the question. Something didn’t ring true about his answer, probably because she’d only had two sessions total. Who did Jeffrey know from the first session?
“Did it what?” Jeffrey’s face looked hard. He issued the question more as a challenge and Cat got the message loud and clear. Don’t mess with me.
“I was asking if the retreat worked for you.” Cat didn’t let her gaze leave Jeffrey’s face. She’d dealt with bullies before, but she hadn’t expected this type of behavior from the normally shy and reserved man.
Jeffrey glanced quickly over to Christina, then blushed when he realized Cat had seen the movement. He leaned back in his chair as the appetizers arrived. Finally, he picked up a small plate and started dishing up salsa and chips. He didn’t look at Cat when he answered her question. “I’ve gotten a lot accomplished this week.”
As the chatter about the food took over, Seth leaned closer to Cat as he put a wedge of chicken quesadilla on her plate. “That sounded ominous. Or is that just a poet thing?”
Cat’s hand shook as she picked up her fork. The man had spooked her. “It’s definitely not a poet thing. Maybe I should ask Uncle Pete to check on our guest a little closer.”
“I thought you started doing background checks on the guests when they signed up.” Seth took a bite of the cheesy tortilla.
“Not really; a full background would cost a fortune. However, Uncle Pete hooked me up with a private investigation firm that runs everyone’s name through the crime databases. So we don’t have any serial killers at our table.”
“At least not any that have been caught.” Cat almost choked at Seth’s whispered response. She looked up from her plate and saw Jeffrey staring at Christina again. Yes, she was definitely having Uncle Pete check on his background. The girl attracted loser men like a moth to a flame.
When the main courses were served, Cat noticed Dante and his group leaving the restaurant. Cat held her breath as they walked by their table. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop. She turned away from that side of the room and started chatting to Seth about the attic heating and cooling. As soon as they had passed by, he took her hand.
“I guess you really didn’t want to know what Hank said?” His smile made her relax.
She shook her head. “Not really. But thanks for the distraction.”
“Cat.” Christina hissed from the other side of the table. “Cat, look.”
Cat looked at the woman, then followed her pointing finger to see Dante’s group. In the middle, slipping on a wool coat, was their bartender from the lodge, Martin.
“Cat.” Christina called again. “That’s the guy who was outside Tommy’s room when I left Monday night.”
Seth turned his head and nodded. “He’s the bartender. But how is he involved with Dante?”
As they left the restaurant, Dante’s hand on the younger man’s back, Cat thought she knew already. Martin was Dante’s nephew and the guy who had terrorized her last month because he thought it was funny.
*
The group was subdued during the drive back to the house—partially due to the fact that everyone, including Cat, was stuffed to the gills with their dinner; partially due to the fact that the group had consumed their share of alcoholic drinks. And, at least for her, partially due to the fact that she was trying to figure out what role Dante and his nephew had in the murder of Tommy Neil.
“A penny for your thoughts?” Seth made the turn on to the road leading to Aspen Hills.
Cat snorted. “I think you’d be overpaying.” She rubbed the outside of her coat, brushing off the light snowflakes that had stuck during their walk from the building. “Let’s talk when we’re alone.”
They were both quiet until he parked the car in front of the house. Shauna helped the guests out, then paused at the back door when neither Cat or Seth moved. “Are you coming in?”
“Give us a few minutes.”
“You love birds
are going to freeze out here. Don’t stay too long.” Shauna slammed the car door shut.
Cat watched as the group moved onto the porch and into the house. “Actually, I’ve been trying to figure out if the guy who attempted to kidnap Christina could have been trying to cover up his killing Tommy.”
“I thought your uncle said he tracked his flight into Denver and the guy arrived the next morning.” Seth turned up the defrost vents as snow started to stick to the windshield.
“That’s right. The obvious contract killer didn’t kill Tommy.” She chuckled, but the noise sounded humorless even to her. “Of course, why would the killer walking around town be the one who actually killed someone?”
“I think you have something there. Keep talking.” Seth turned the lights off and Cat looked down the empty streets. She shivered.
“Wait: So why was a contract killer here in the first place?” She was missing something. Something important. The alcohol she’d consumed was already giving her a headache. One more reason she didn’t like drinking hard liquor. Tequila hid in that sweet strawberry mix and then attacked once it was in your body. She rubbed her temples.
“Exactly—why was the guy here in the first place?”
Cat thought about standing outside the coffee shop after paying her respects to Tommy’s mother. The guy flying out of the coffee shop had been mad. And he’d met with Dante just a few minutes prior. Had Dante just cancelled the contract the killer had come to perform? Because by the time he got here, Tommy Neil was already dead. She turned to Seth. “He was brought here to kill Tommy. And Dante is at least a middleman in the whole exchange if not …” She sucked in a breath, thinking how close the man had been to her so many times.
“If not the person who ordered the hit,” Seth finished.
“I’ve opened a writers’ retreat in the middle of a mob town.” Now all Cat could see were the deepening shadows in the picture perfect neighborhood.
“Don’t say that. Aspen Hills isn’t a mob town. We just have families wandering in and out at times.” He rubbed the back of her neck. “Besides, even if Dante did hire a hit man to kill Tommy, that’s not what happened. Tommy was already dead.”
