Murder Strikes at Midnight

by Thea Cambert

  “Sure thing, captain,” said Dewey with a grin. “I was home watching TV, eating way too many cheese puffs, so this is actually a much better way to spend New Year’s Eve.”

  As the paramedics, stretcher in hand, and Officer Dewey followed Luke and Ben, Alice heard them talking about the almost impassible road conditions.

  “We were lucky we made it,” one of their voices carried on the wind.

  “This is awful!” Franny said, as she, Owen, and Alice huddled together at a distance.

  “Owen, maybe you should take some pictures,” said Alice.

  “Seriously?” Owen looked at Alice, shocked.

  “I mean, in case there are any clues that could be missed,” said Alice.

  “Or get covered with snow,” added Franny.

  “Oh. Good idea!” Owen began snapping shots of the scene, the crowd—everything and anything he thought might be relevant to the investigation.

  The three of them moved a bit closer to where Zeb was talking to the paramedics. “Looks to me like she was pushed from that widow’s walk up there,” Zeb said, pointing up. “Died on impact. But we’ll see. I’ll head back into town with you guys.”

  Within a few minutes, Luke, Ben, and Dewey had marked off the scene using folding chairs that Chad and Sadie brought out along with the yellow tape Dewey had grabbed on his way over, and the paramedics and Zeb had loaded Roz’s body into the ambulance and were pulling slowly down the drive.

  “We’re going to need everyone to gather in the great room,” Luke announced to the few guests who were still out braving the cold.

  Alice noticed that the senator and his wife had never gone back inside, but were standing by themselves, looking somber. Sadie was saying comforting words to Chad, who looked like he was still in complete shock. Everyone filed quietly back into the lodge and found seats in the great room, the festive mood from less than an hour before gone without a trace.

  “We’re going to need to talk to each one of you,” Ben told the group. “So, if you could all just stay—”

  Just then, the doors in the entryway flew open, and a chill wind blew a flurry of snowflakes inside.

  “It’s just us,” Zeb said, leading the two paramedics into the room.

  “We couldn’t get through,” one of the paramedics said. “The roads are impassible. No one’s getting into or out of this place tonight.”

  Next to Alice, Owen gasped loudly.

  “What?” Alice asked, turning to her friend.

  “No one can get in or out,” whispered Owen with a gulp.

  “Well, there are worse places to be trapped,” said Franny, leaning back into the plush sofa.

  But as Owen looked at Alice, she realized what he was thinking. “No one can get in or out,” she repeated. “That means the killer is someone in this room.”

  Chapter 8

  “I’ll get to the front desk,” a weary Chad told the group. “If you’ll come in a few at a time, I’ll set you up in a room for the night.” He turned to Sadie and Michael, who were standing nearby. “Sadie, take the master key and go check that the second-floor rooms are stocked. Michael, go tell Chef Louis what’s happening, and tell him to prepare for a larger breakfast selection than he’d previously planned.”

  “Can we help?” Alice quickly asked, after Michael and Sadie were dispatched.

  Chad looked relieved. “That would be great. Thank you. Come with me.”

  As he led Alice, Franny, and Owen to the front desk area, just off the entryway, Owen tugged Alice’s arm. “What are you up to?” he whispered.

  “We need to help with the investigation,” Alice answered. “And, I hate to say it, because I like the guy, but Chad is suspect numero uno.”

  Alice, Owen, and Franny weren’t new to the mystery game. They’d helped the police solve several cases—even though the police, namely Ben and Luke, officially discouraged their involvement. But they got involved, anyway. Maybe it was because the three friends were naturally curious. Maybe it was because all three of them—being in the customer service business themselves—were good at reading people and formulating the right questions. But whatever drew them into the process of investigation, with each new case they solved, they seemed to be addicted to the excitement of the quest for the truth. And frankly, Blue Valley was better off because of it.

  “You’re right”, whispered Franny. “Chad was upset with Roz because she was leaving him and possibly ruining him financially.”

  “He’s worked so hard to get this place up and running, and clearly, has spared no expense,” Alice agreed. “This is his dream. To be threatened with losing it all now would be, well—”

  “Motive for murder?” Owen finished.

  By that time, they’d arrived at the front desk area. Chad came out of the office holding the party guest list. “Let’s see . . . I think we can accommodate everyone on the second floor. Adam and Nan were already booked, of course. They’re up on the third . . .”

  “You can put the three of us together,” said Franny. “Ben told me he and Luke are going to stay downstairs to question everyone and stand guard.”

  “Great. I’ll put you in 203 and 204.” Chad swiped a set of key cards and handed them over. Then, he began running down the list of party attendees and assigning them rooms, occasionally asking who went with whom, so that he could put family members and close friends near one another.

  Alice, Owen, and Franny delivered the keys to the guests, and returned to the front desk, where Michael was busily tapping away on the computer, and Chad, who appeared to have zoned out a bit, was standing and staring toward the windows on the opposite wall.

  “You okay, Chad?” Alice asked quietly.

  That snapped him out of his reverie. “What? Oh. I . . . don’t know.”

  “We’re so sorry for your loss,” said Franny.

  “My—oh. Thanks. It’s still sinking in, I guess.”

  “We can help you tonight. I mean, there will be lots to do with so many unexpected overnight guests,” Alice said. “Please, let us know if we can make things easier.”

  “Thanks, that, uh, means a lot.” Chad looked down and shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “I still can’t believe she’s dead.”

  “You must be in shock,” said Owen. He paused. “Chad, can you think of anyone here who would want Roz dead?”

  “I keep hoping it was just an accident,” said Chad. “But I heard the coroner say she was pushed. I mean, so I guess . . . I guess, it wasn’t an accident. But who would kill her?”

  “Well, don’t worry. Detective Evans and Captain Maguire are on the case,” said Owen. “They’ll get to the bottom of this. And since we’re all trapped here, at least the killer can’t escape.”

  At this, Chad went a little pale. “Oh. I hadn’t thought about that,” he said, and swallowed hard. “If only I’d been there. I could’ve protected her. I could’ve . . .”

  “You couldn’t have known she was in danger,” said Alice, reaching across the counter and patting him on the shoulder.

  “And now—on opening night—there’s a murderer under our roof!” Chad rested his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his hands.

  “Like Owen said, the police will solve this thing,” Alice assured him. “They’ll start questioning each person any minute now.” She gave a quick sideways glance at Owen and Franny. “They’ll probably start by asking us where we were when Roz was pushed from the widow’s walk. Glad we were all together in the great room,” she said, motioning toward Owen and Franny.

  Now Chad turned as white as a ghost. “I was—I was in my office,” he said defensively, almost as though he’d just been accused of the crime. He pointed a thumb to the office door over his shoulder. “On the phone. With my supplier.”

  “At midnight on New Year’s Eve?” Owen blurted out, then paused awkwardly. “Sorry.”

  “It was an emergency,” Chad said defensively. “They shorted me on linens. Sheets and towels. People in this business keep c
razy hours. Our busiest times are holidays and weekends, and . . . off-hours. That’s when we get things done. I was lucky to catch him, actually.” Chad cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I’m going to check on the guests.” With that, he left the room.

  “I hope that thing he said about the shortage of towels isn’t true,” said Owen. “I need extra for my bedtime ritual.”

  “Your bedtime ritual?” asked Alice, rolling her eyes at Owen.

  “That’s right. There’s my hot bubble bath, then my cool shower, then my deep conditioning treatment, then I rinse. Oh—I might also need an extra one of those tiny bottles of conditioner.”

  Alice raised a brow at Owen.

  “What? It helps me sleep. This hair takes a lot of maintenance!” he said, pointing at his thick, dark hair—which, admittedly, did always look perfect. He moved down the counter to where Michael was still working on the computer.

  “Extra towels, Mr. James?” Michael asked as Owen approached.

  “Why, yes, that would be wonderful.”

  Michael disappeared into the office and reappeared with a stack of fresh, white towels and several tiny bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizer.

  “Wow,” said Owen. “You’re the best concierge I’ve ever encountered!”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Michael with a studious nod.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” asked Alice, sidling up alongside Owen. “I mean, what with the linen shortage?”

  Michael gave Alice a knowing nod. “There will be no linen shortage on my watch, Ms. Maguire.”

  “Oh. But I thought Chad said—”

  “Mr. Fender did say there was a shortage.” Michael looked around, and when he saw that they were alone, leaned over the counter a bit. “Are you going to solve this case?” he whispered, his professional concierge façade falling away.

  “What do you mean?” Alice said, surprised.

  “I’ve read about you three in the paper,” said Michael. “I know all about how you’ve helped the police solve murders. I can’t believe you’re here! It’s an honor to meet you. You’re local celebrities—and I’m a big fan!”

  Jane Elkin had run an article about the three amateur sleuths in the Blue Valley Post back in the fall.

  “Are you saying that there is no shortage of sheets and towels at the lodge?” asked Alice.

  “I am a concierge,” said Michael. “While I am loyal to this lodge and to my employer, I have not been paid to lie.” He straightened his tie. “There is no shortage. I cannot imagine why Mr. Fender said there was, although, I’m sure he had his reasons.”

  “Wow! Thanks, Michael. And, thanks for the towels, too,” Owen said.

  “If you need further assistance, do not hesitate to let me know.”

  “Thanks!” said Franny.

  “Well, we’d better go up to our rooms,” said Alice, herding Owen and Franny in the direction of the great room. “But we’ll be back down shortly. Meanwhile, you call us if you need anything at all. Okay, Michael?”

  Michael gave them a little salute, and Alice, Owen, and Franny hurried through the great room and up the stairs. From the railing on the second floor, they could look down into the room and see tired party-goers stoking the fire and settling onto couches, as Ben, Luke, and Dewey conferred near the entrance to the dining room.

  Once inside their rooms, they opened the adjoining doors, creating one big space.

  “This place is fantastic,” said Owen, coming in and taking a seat on one of the queen-sized beds in Alice and Franny’s room. “We should come back sometime when no one’s been murdered.”

  “Agreed,” said Alice.

  “I’m starved,” said Owen. “Let’s go down and rummage through the kitchen.”

  “Here,” said Franny, opening her bag. “I have granola bars, crackers, and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts.”

  “Your bag is a mini-bar!” said Owen. “It’s like one of those Mary Poppins carpet bags! Do you have, like, a floor lamp in there?”

  “How can you be hungry, Owen? We’ve just consumed a five-course meal, s’mores, and cake.”

  “You know my metabolism!” said Owen in his own defense.

  “Actually, I’m hungry, too,” said Franny, popping a chocolate-covered nut into her mouth.

  “We need to add longer runs to our list of resolutions,” said Alice, flopping back onto the bed. “By the way, I just texted Ben and Luke and told them about the argument I witnessed between Chad and Roz earlier. They said to let them know if we see or hear anything that might have any bearing on the case.”

  “You know what we should do?” said Owen excitedly. “Make one of those murder boards, like on TV. You know, a list of suspects and clues?”

  “Where would we do that?” asked Alice, sitting up and looking around the room.

  Owen looked around, too, his eyes settling on the large, full-length mirror that hung on the wall. “Too bad we don’t have any of those dry-erase markers,” he said. “Well, we can just use the notes app on my phone.”

  “Ha! Not necessary, my dear Watson,” said Franny, digging through her bag and producing a pack of dry erase markers.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Owen.

  “I used these for the board I set out on the sidewalk in front of Joe’s at the Hometown Holidays Festival. I changed our specials every morning, you know.”

  “Franny, you’re the best,” said Alice, plucking one of the markers out of the package and going over to the mirror. “So. Number one, we have Chad.” She neatly wrote Chad’s name on the mirror. “I heard him actually say he wished his wife was dead. We know he had reason to kill her. Who else?”

  They sat silently for a moment.

  “I saw something when we were all out in the woods,” Alice finally said. “I’m not sure if it was anything, but I’m pretty sure I saw Senator Matthews and Roz sort of going off together. It was during the candlelit hike, so it was dark and shadowy. The two of them went off the trail, and I’m almost positive I saw Roz trying to hold hands.”

  “Oh, I think it’s pretty clear that Roz and Adam were involved in some scandalous way,” said Owen. “Did you see the way she stared at him at dinner? Or the way they danced together? We already know they used to date.”

  “Think about it. If Roz was leaving Chad, maybe she was planning to run straight into the senator’s arms!” said Franny.

  “That would not be good for his career,” said Owen. “His image is squeaky clean. Doting husband. Nature lover. If he and Roz were having an affair, he would most definitely not want that exposed.”

  Alice wrote a number two, with Senator Adam Matthews next to it.

  “If the senator wanted to avoid a scandal, surely his wife did, too,” said Alice, writing a number three, and Nan Matthews on the mirror.

  “Right!” said Owen. “A woman scorned and such.”

  Alice stood back and looked at the list. “Anyone else?”

  “There is someone else,” said Owen. “And, I’m only saying this because I worked with Roz on the cakes. She was a real shrew. She could drive someone to murder if they had to put up with her for long enough.”

  “Sadie,” said Alice, going back to the mirror and writing Sadie’s name.

  “Of course!” said Franny. “Roz was making her life a nightmare. We all heard the way she talked to Sadie earlier. I imagine that could eventually drive a person to blow their top.”

  “Heck, if I had to put up with that every day, I would’ve been tempted to push her off the roof. No doubt about it,” said Owen.

  “So, we have four viable suspects,” said Alice. “The senator and his wife, Sadie, and Chad.”

  The phone on the nightstand rang. Owen answered. “Alice and Franny’s suite,” he sang. After a conversation that consisted of “Oh, okay,” and “Of course,” and “See you in a few,” Owen hung up and turned to Alice and Franny. “Speak of the devil,” he said. “That was suspect numero uno.”

  Chapter 9


  Chad had called to ask for help. It seemed people were milling around restlessly in the great room as they awaited their turns to be questioned by the police, and Chad wanted to put together a snack and some kind of activity, like a game or movie, to make things as pleasant as possible.

  “This is the perfect opportunity,” said Alice after rinsing her face with a quick splash of cool water and brushing her hair with the hairbrush Franny produced from her bag. “All of our suspects in the same room!”

  “What if they go to bed after their turn with the police?” asked Owen. “Then we can’t keep an eye on them.”

  “I already thought of that,” said Franny. “I know exactly what to do. I’m making the coffee.”

  “Don’t tell me. Your red-eye, triple-strong elixir of energy?” said Alice as they locked up their rooms and walked toward the staircase.

  “It’s the most popular morning drink at Joe’s,” said Franny. “Trust me, there’s no way anyone’s going to sleep after drinking it.”

  “Make mine a double,” said Owen with a yawn. “Ooh! I’ll get out the leftover cake, too. That’ll be worth staying up for.”

  Once the cake was cut and plated and the coffee was hot, the guests began wandering over to the serving table Chad had set up in the great room.

  “Thanks for doing this,” he said, taking two cups of Franny’s coffee.

  “Of course!” said Alice. “We’re glad to help.” She noticed Chad turning to walk over to Sadie with the coffee. “Uh, by the way—”

  Chad turned back.

  Alice lowered her voice a little. “I was wondering . . . Sadie is so nice. Such a great person. Where will she go now?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Chad, a frown creasing his forehead.

  “Well, she was Roz’s assistant, wasn’t she?”

  Owen nodded, catching onto Alice’s line of questioning. “With Roz gone . . .” he said.

  Chad looked struck. He glanced back over at Sadie. “It’s such a crazy night, I hadn’t even thought about . . .”

  “The fact that she’s technically now out of a job?” Owen finished for him.