by Dixie Davis
Well, a Nate. She didn’t even know the last name of the man who’d bothered Annie earlier. There were fifteen thousand people in Hinckley; surely more than one was named Nate.
Doug leaned over. “That’s his car.” He nodded toward the boxy gray sedan closest to the body.
Now Lori regretted dismissing Nate so quickly this afternoon. And she didn’t know what Doug might have said or done after she went inside.
Were they under suspicion?
“You’re not going to look into this, right?” Eddie finally asked.
“Well, we ran into someone named Nate from Hinckley who was here earlier,” Doug admitted.
Eddie bit his lip, but finally pulled out his notepad. “What can you tell me about him?”
“He graduated from high school about ten years ago, he works in the boat factory.” Doug shrugged. “That’s about it.”
Eddie made a few notes and put away his notepad. He glanced over his shoulder. “You folks head on home. And leave this one alone.”
Doug cast a mystified glance at Lori. “Of course.” She took Doug’s arm and turned him away from the scene. “Did you get ahold of Annie?”
“No answer.”
Then she didn’t know. They needed to get back to the inn. To Annie.
Every light was on at the inn, as if to imitate the light show they’d just enjoyed from the boardwalk. Lori was reassured that her guests had returned home safely — not that she thought there was a serial killer out on the loose.
Doug led the way up the steps and opened the door to the parlor. Annie stood in the middle of the room, looking like they’d interrupted her. Doug sprinted to her and caught her in a hug.
“You okay?” Annie asked.
“I am now.” He kissed her forehead and let her go. “You seem worried.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “Work. Just remembering Janice is going to have to handle all the quarterly reports.”
Doug squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sure she can figure it out.”
Annie quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know Janice?”
“Ooh.” Doug frowned. “Good point.”
“See? Even on vacation, she’s making life difficult.”
He smiled down at her, like her preoccupation was adorable. Lori cleared away what was left of the snacks from the sideboard, and Doug and Annie jumped into action to help. It really was nice having extra hands around to help. Lori should have been used to it since Serena started working part-time, but apparently the emphasis to Serena had been on “part.”
On the other hand, she had been used to this, because she used to have someone who came over most nights to sit and chat and even help straighten up.
She’d become incredibly spoiled incredibly fast — and lost that at the worst possible time, when her busiest season hit.
By the time they finished, Lori had only been home about ten minutes, but it still felt very late for a knock at the door. Lori glanced at Annie and Doug. They looked just as mystified as she felt. None of them was expecting anyone.
Lori checked the peephole before opening the door. Val Cromley stood on the front porch, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Was she all right?
Lori threw open the door to find out. “Hey, Val,” she greeted her. “You okay?”
Val shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. It was only then Lori could see the stocky man in all black standing at the bottom of her steps. Lori’s lungs seized for a split second before she recognized Val’s son Brett.
“Something terrible has happened, and we were wondering if Annie was here?”
Lori glanced back at her potential future daughter-in-law. Annie craned her neck to see who was at the door and what was the matter.
They hadn’t told her about Nate yet.
“Come in,” Lori said. No matter how little Annie liked Brett, Val was Lori’s friend and clearly needed her support. Annie wasn’t obligated to interact with either of them.
Or at least Lori told herself. She hated feeling like she was betraying her future daughter-in-law.
Annie didn’t say anything to Brett, but she didn’t try to avoid him or treat him like she had Nate.
That had to be exactly why Val was here.
“Kim heard that Nate Kowalski died tonight,” Val said, dropping the bombshell just as Brett reached the door.
For a long second, everyone in the room seemed to check with one another, gauging reactions. Lori looked to Annie first, who was wary and weary, then to Doug, who was as grim as she’d expect. Val was also solemn, while Brett seemed . . . shifty.
Lori had only met Val’s son a few times, when he delivered orders from Salt Water Bakes to guests at the inn. He was on the heavy side and tonight his footsteps seemed even heavier bearing this news. His dark hair stuck out at all angles, though Lori couldn’t tell whether that was unkempt or stylish these days. He didn’t quite meet Annie’s eyes when he looked in her direction.
They’d been friends in the past? Lori wasn’t sure she bought it, not the way he definitely seemed to defer to her now without even saying anything.
“Nate Kowalski,” Annie repeated. “Who went to Hinckley High?”
Val nodded, pain filling her eyes. “I know y’all were close.” She grabbed Brett’s wrist and towed him closer to Annie.
Annie stared at them both like they were cornering her, rather than just approaching her in the middle of the room. And it wasn’t just Brett she was worried about — she was eyeing Val just as much.
Lori made a mental note to ask about that later, when it wouldn’t seem like she was prying right in front of Val — but honestly, she wasn’t sure whether she should ask Val or Annie about it. Which was more likely to answer?
Brett finally spoke — and Lori had forgotten how gentle his voice was, what a contrast it was from his appearance. “I heard Trey and Serena were in town today, too,” he said softly.
“I saw Serena,” Annie admitted. Her voice seemed strained for some reason to mention the friend they’d run into at the museum a few hours before. Who was supposed to be working at the inn at the time.
But, then, with the grief or the shock Annie must be feeling right now, what could she say that wouldn’t sound strained? Not much.
“I talked to Trey,” Brett admitted. “He’s on his way over right now.”
“You invited him here?” Annie asked. Lori tried not to straighten her shoulders, as if she was proud of Annie’s backbone. Lori was running an inn, not a meetinghouse, and her guests deserved better than to be at the center of a local murder.
Before Lori could contemplate it further, another knock sounded at the door. This time she didn’t recognize the man on her porch, but Lori hoped that she’d be safe with this many people around — besides, apparently they were expecting Trey.
She shouldn’t have put away the snacks so early.
Oh, wait, yes she should have. Val and Brett were one thing, but more uninvited guests would gladly eat her out of house and home if she let them, and not out of any malice, just habit.
The freckle-faced man had to stoop a little to pass through the doorway to the parlor, and the stilted conversation behind them stopped as soon as they saw him.
“Trey,” Brett finally said. “Been a long time.”
Trey nodded. “Good to see you, man. Just wish it was a different reason.”
Brett returned the nod, but something else caught Trey’s attention and he craned his neck to see past Brett. “Annie girl? Is that you?”
She forced a sad smile onto her face. “Hi, Trey. Long time no see.”
“No see, no write, no remember.” Trey folded his arms and attempted to stare her down, though Annie wasn’t cowed in the slightest.
Lori almost hoped Annie could give lessons on standing up for yourself.
“I’m sorry,” Annie finally said, though she didn’t sound like she was. “Moving has a way of helping you get rid of the things that you didn’t need in the first place.”
Lori tried not to wince at that. It was a pretty harsh takedown for someone who was supposed to be an old friend.
Trey didn’t bother covering his feelings about her. “Guess we’re lucky when fate takes away the things that would become our greatest failures.”
“Trey,” Annie said, her voice saying that she was trying to be patient, but he was making it very difficult, even though they’d already settled all this.
He held up his hands. “Obviously I’m not here about that.”
Doug took this opportunity to step forward. Maybe he needed to learn to take the initiative to give into his protective instincts sooner.
Doug stuck out his hand. “I’m Doug Keyes. Annie’s boyfriend.”
Trey sized him up for a minute before reluctantly shaking his hand. Doug was shorter than Trey, and with his glasses he definitely looked the part of the accountant. Trey still seemed to be an athlete, as if whatever he must have played in high school had carried over somehow.
“Nice to meet you,” Trey finally said. “Annie here knows how to pick ’em.”
“Enough.” Annie’s single word carried the weight to cut off all of Trey’s teasing. If that was what it was.
One more knock sounded at the door. Lori looked at the people already assembling there. Had another member of their high school crew come to mourn in Lori’s parlor? Not that she begrudged the space to people in need, but she did also have a lot of guests who might want to sleep some time tonight.
This time, at least, Lori recognized the person on the doorstep: Serena. Lori wasn’t sure when Serena had left, but sure, now she’d show up. Obviously she wasn’t here to make up her hours. “Come in,” Lori said.
Serena nodded her thanks and slowly approached the rest of her old friends.
“Well,” Trey said, “looks like the gang’s all here.”
“Except Nate,” Serena murmured, and the others retreated into silence.
Lori waited to make sure they didn’t have more to add before she invited the group to sit down. Doug was the first to take a seat, in the middle of the couch, and Annie sat next to him. Trey took the spot on the other side of Doug, leaving Serena, Brett and Val to armchairs. Lori looked from face to dejected, silent face and reversed her earlier decision: these people definitely needed something to eat.
“Serena, some snacks?” she suggested.
“Oh, that would be great. Thank you.”
Lori tried not to gape at her. It wasn’t an offer. She’d meant for the girl to help her prepare them. But how did she say that now, with all these mourners here, without looking like an evil taskmaster?
Lori hurried to the kitchen. The first thing she spotted was the bowl of apples, and her imagination instantly seized on that inspiration: what comfort food was more comforting than apple pie?
Obviously she didn’t want her guests — should she really think of them that way? — waiting around the hours a full traditional pie would take, but there had to be something she could do, a faster take on the classic.
Lori started peeling and chopping the apples while she brainstormed. By the time she’d made it through half a dozen, she had a plan. She tossed the cubed apples into a skillet with butter, brown sugar and spices and let them get to work softening up and making the delicious sauce that filled a pie. Then she cut more butter into quick oats and flour, with a little more brown sugar and spices for good measure. By the time those were thoroughly combined, the apples were beginning to bubble.
Now what? Lori hunted around the kitchen and came up with a set of eight microwave-safe ramekins. She divided the apple mixture into seven of the ramekins — she definitely wasn’t going to miss out on this treat — and sprinkled the crumble on top. The crumble still needed to cook and the apples and sauce could use a little longer.
Thank heavens the previous owners had outfitted the place with an industrial size microwave. She set four of the bowls in the microwave and turned it on high.
She’d just barely gotten out the vanilla ice cream to soften when the doorbell rang. Again? Lori glanced at the ceiling, praying her guests would forgive her for becoming the town hot spot at ten o’clock at night, before hurrying to answer. Should she have made eight crumbles?
This time, instead of one of Annie’s high school friends, Lori was surprised to find Eddie and Chief Branson on her front porch.
Surely they weren’t here for her help. After all, she and Doug had spoken to Eddie at the scene, and he’d asked if he could come by if he had more questions.
Was this bad for Doug?
Lori let them in. Unless they wanted to move the chairs by the fireplace, there wasn’t room for them to join the group of mourners, who still sat in silence. Lori realized she hadn’t heard laughter or even talking from the kitchen. Not every word would have carried, but for half a dozen people to all mourn someone who had been a close friend in utter silence was definitely unusual.
Unfortunately, Lori had too much experience with mourners and mourning lately.
Before Lori could introduce the police to the group — not a relationship with a bright future — the microwave beeped in the kitchen. Lori murmured her apologies and hurried to the back. She pulled the first round of crumbles from the microwave.
She could try to redistribute the other three crumbles into five to feed the police, but . . . Chief Branson still wasn’t her favorite.
That was stupid. She shouldn’t hold a grudge because the man disliked her ex-boyfriend for a rivalry that went back to high school.
Although falsely accusing her of murder hadn’t exactly made the chief her best friend.
Well, the police wouldn’t be here long, anyway. She popped the remaining three crumbles into the microwave for a minute and scooped ice cream on the first round. The thick sauce still bubbled up around the edges of the ramekins and the topping looked perfectly cooked. A dollop of ice cream made any pie better.
She set the first round on a tray and got the second round out of the microwave. Then she topped the last bowls with ice cream and returned what was left of the quart to the freezer.
From the time the police arrived to the time she returned with the finished crumbles, Lori had been out of the room for less than three minutes. Eddie and Chief Branson stood at the coffee table, towering of the group, who still sat in silence. Except that Serena was now crying.
The chief turned to Lori and nodded. “Mrs. Keyes, I assume you already know Nate Kowalski was killed tonight.” It wasn’t quite a question — and it wasn’t quite polite. Lori chose to ignore the undercurrent of sarcasm, although the chief balanced his ample weight on one hip in a posture of attitude.
“Yes, we came by the scene on our way home from the festival.”
“‘We’ is . . . ?”
Lori nudged past the officer to set the tray on the coffee table. She gestured at Doug. “My son and I.”
Eddie made a note of this in his pad as if they hadn’t spoken at the scene. Chief Branson continued the questioning. “You told Eddie here that you’d seen the victim earlier today?”
She nodded. “We met him in Dusky Card and Gift around four or so.”
Chief Branson pressed on in the questioning. “And there was an altercation?”
Lori shook her head quickly. “No. He really wanted to talk to Annie, but he was obviously making her uncomfortable, so we had to ask him to leave.”
“Leave the gift shop?”
“We’d walked over here by then. He followed us.”
Eddie made a note of this as well, and now he joined in the questioning. “You don’t think him following you when he was making a member of your group uncomfortable was an altercation?”
“No, we handled it peacefully and he went away.” Although Lori had to admit again that she didn’t know what Doug had said to Nate. Doug had never been a violent child or teenager, and she doubted that had changed, but she’d known people of all ages to make violent threats regardless of whether they might carry through on them.
; And then there was Serena. Lori looked back at her, waiting for Serena to pipe up about her involvement with Nate this afternoon.
Serena exercised her right to remain silence.
Eddie turned to the rest of the group. “Which one of you is Annie?”
She looked around warily and then slowly raised her hand. Probably should have been obvious since she was holding onto Doug with the other.
“Why was Mr. Kowalski making you uncomfortable?”
“He really wanted to talk to me and I didn’t want to talk to him.”
Eddie just waited for her to explain herself.
“We went to high school together,” she began, watching her fidgeting fingers. “It’s been ten years. We just don’t have much in common anymore. How many of your high school friends do you still hang out with?”
Brett snorted under his breath and Eddie slowly raised an eyebrow at Annie. Lori was pretty sure Eddie had grown up here, too, so the answer to her question was probably higher than she’d estimated.
Annie glanced at Doug, the pain on her face evident.
That was enough torture for one night. “Please, eat up,” Lori said. The crowd finally picked up their bowls, with mostly melted ice cream atop the crumbles by now. Once they were busy eating, Lori turned to Eddie and Chief Branson. “Can I ask why you’re here? It looked like an accident. I mean, anyone could have done it; it was a hit and run.”
Trey sucked in a breath and Lori turned to him. So did the police. He eyed the three of them, standing across the coffee table from him, and fanned his mouth. “Hot. Very hot,” he said around his bite of crumble.
In the chair next to his end of the couch, Serena nodded. “It’s good though. Thank you.”
Lori managed not to purse her lips at the woman who should have been helping her make the dessert.
“Yes, thank you,” Trey managed, still puffing air around the bite he’d taken.
Lori turned back to the police. “Sorry, you were saying?”
“We’re not sure it was an accident,” Chief Branson said slowly.
Lori’s eyebrows shot up. That was a first from him — in the past, she’d been the one to insist a death wasn’t what it seemed, and he’d stubbornly stuck to where he thought the evidence was pointing.
