Tom turned to Jocelyn. “Did you see her when you took the sugar to the carnival?”
“She was at the turnstiles taking tickets and giving vendors a hard time. She almost didn’t let me in, but my hat finally convinced her. She said that no one would wear a hat like these”—she pointed at the fuzzy donut shining like a headlight on the front of her police hat—“unless they had to, so I obviously worked for Deputy Donut. Did you see her, Tom?”
“She was everywhere the night before the carnival, getting in everyone’s way and telling us either to do what we were already doing or that what we were doing was wrong. My friends and I made it to the carnival around ten the night of the thirteenth to pack up, and I didn’t see or hear her the entire time we were loading or when we drove out around a quarter to eleven.”
I summarized, “She could have been gone, even for short periods. She had assistants who could have taken tickets in her absence. Our home addresses were on our vendor application form, so she had Nina’s address and might have gone there and thought she was attacking Nina when she was really attacking Zippy. Or she could have somehow known or figured out where Zippy was going, and she went there, too, because she was angry at Zippy for not moving her car.” I raised my index finger. “And Marsha has another claim that supposedly proves her innocence. She said that when Zippy’s will is read, the police will discover that Marsha had no expectations of inheriting from her.”
Tom was good at looking bewildered even when he wasn’t. “Why would she bring that up?”
I grinned at the stunned expression on Jocelyn’s face. “Marsha seemed to think that Zippy had family money, and that was how she could afford to busk at carnivals and drive a newish car.”
Tom choked out a laugh. “That’s going from A to Z without bothering with any of the letters in between.”
I agreed and added, “Maybe Marsha’s not a murderer, but she might have a guilty conscience about other things she doesn’t want the police to know about.”
Tom lowered his eyebrows like someone faking a severe warning. “Police can be everyone’s worst nightmare whether they’re guilty or not.”
Jocelyn piped up, “I hope the police are paying attention to her. Maybe they’ll convince her to be less quarrelsome and threatening. One look at her frown is enough to make anyone keel over.”
Tom relaxed his pretend scowl. “In your case, Jocelyn, it would be only to perform a handstand or a backward roll.”
In the voice of someone narrating a horror movie, Jocelyn warned, “Don’t count on it.”
After we closed, Tom suggested I could leave the tidying to him and head to my girls’ night out with Misty and Samantha.
I refused. “Tidying hardly takes any time, and Cares Away is only a fifteen-minute drive. Even if we clean this place very slowly, I’ll get there before Misty and Samantha do.”
It didn’t take us long to make the shop ready for the Jolly Cops Cleaning Crew, and then I packaged and paid for Jamaican Blue Mountain Estate coffee beans and Hawaiian Kona beans for our mornings in the cabin at Lake Cares Away. Samantha deserved the expensive specialty coffees.
I harnessed Dep and we walked home. The evening was hot and breezeless, and I could hardly wait to swim in Lake Cares Away. Despite Nina’s problems and my desire to prove that she wasn’t guilty of murder, I felt the lightness of anticipation. I hadn’t had a real vacation since we’d opened Deputy Donut four years before. This vacation would last only a few days, but except for my worries about Nina, it should be nearly carefree. The only thing I had to do was be ready on time for the ceremony. I could handle that sort of stress.
At home, I opened my suitcase. Dep jumped in. Every time I added another garment, she scrunched down, flattened her ears, peeked at me, and batted at my hand. Packing took longer than I expected. Finally, I lifted her out of the suitcase and carried it downstairs.
She followed me to the kitchen. She didn’t interfere while I placed the juice, butter, and jam in my cooler, probably because she was sitting in the cardboard box I’d set out for the coffee and the coffee grinder. Her eyes were huge. I took her out and held her in one arm while I one-handedly packed the coffee and the grinder and closed the box. In her inimitable way, she helped me arrange her special bowls, her cat food, her treats, and a few toys in another box. I had to keep retrieving the toys she removed. With her kitty litter, kitty litter pan, and waterproof mats, she had almost more luggage than I did.
Outside, I couldn’t completely open my car’s trunk because my kayak’s upside-down stern was in the way. I wasn’t sure I’d go kayaking on Lake Cares Away, but I kept the kayak on my car during the warmest part of the year in case Brent and I made sudden plans to go kayaking. I could kayak by myself, and sometimes did, but it was more fun with Brent. I carefully slid boxes underneath the lid and into the trunk. Heading back into the house, I sighed. Brent had been at The Craft Croft on business, so he hadn’t been as warm as he sometimes could be, but neither had I. Was he considering becoming a DCI agent and moving away? Or was he distracted by memories of the previous evening with Kimberly Gartborg?
Dep never liked riding in her carrier or in the car, but when I returned to the house for my gown in its garment bag, she was sitting on the mahogany-trimmed red velvet armchair in the living room and watching me with one eye. The other eye was closed. I told her, “Don’t worry. You’re coming along.”
I took the garment bag outside, hung it on the hook behind the driver’s seat, and returned to the house for Dep.
It was a good thing that I opened the front door carefully. Dep had been waiting beside it. She skittered back a few feet and stood watching me and waving her tail in the air. I picked her up. She purred.
The hated carrier was beside the front door. I toed it closer. Dep stopped purring. “C’mon, sweetie. You’re going to spend a few days in a cabin with Misty, Samantha and me.” She didn’t respond. “It will be fun,” I told her. I corralled her feet in one hand, slipped her into the carrier and zipped it.
“Mew.”
I asked, “Could you possibly sound more pathetic?”
She could.
I fastened her carrier into the space I’d left for it behind the passenger seat and pulled out of my driveway. “We’re off!” I crowed.
Dep only muttered, which was better than the yowling and howling she sometimes did in the car. Maybe knowing that many of her personal belongings were coming with us comforted her.
I drove north on Wisconsin Street past downtown Fallingbrook. Over the years, the town had grown mostly to the south. About five blocks north of downtown Fallingbrook, Wisconsin Street turned into County Road J. After I was certain that 976 Wisconsin Street North, the address that Kassandra might have meant to write on her job application for The Craft Croft, did not exist, I turned east.
I didn’t remember much about my childhood visit to Lake Cares Away. I’d spent most of the day filling a bucket with water from the lake, dumping the water on the sandy beach, and wondering how it could disappear so quickly. Samantha and Hooligan had reported that the Cares Away Resort was perfect for their rehearsal dinner, rehearsal, wedding, and reception. And for our mini-vacation.
The route leading to Lake Cares Away wound through woods and past lakes and streams. The woods were still lush and green, with only touches of yellow at the tops of poplars and aspens. I opened the windows a tiny bit and took a deep breath of woodsy air. Dep continued mumbling.
The road narrowed, curving around rocks and ponds and climbing forested knolls before dipping again into valleys.
A rustic sign showed me the beginning of a driveway leading between trees toward the Cares Away Resort. The driveway was long, paved, and barely wide enough for two cars. I took my time, but no one passed me going the other way. The Cares Away Resort was famous for its fine dining, and at this time of late afternoon, more people were probably driving to it than away from it.
I parked the car at the main lodge and stepped out. Tall pines cooled
the air. Years of shed needles served as mulch around the parking lot and gave the entire area a deliciously piney fragrance. I pulled Dep in her carrier out of the car. “You’ll be quiet in the lodge’s office, won’t you, Dep?”
The tiniest of mews came from the depths of her carrier.
In the oak-paneled office, the desk clerk told me that neither Misty nor Samantha had arrived. She gave me a key and a map of the grounds, showing cabins placed near twisty roads and cul-de-sacs. Our cabin, Birch, was next to the beach. The drawing showed that, despite Samantha’s description of our cabin as “tiny,” it was one of the larger ones.
Dep didn’t make a sound until I slid her carrier into the car again. “Mew?”
“Soon,” I told her. I hopped into the driver’s seat.
The road through the resort was barely wider than a single lane of hard-packed gravel. Negotiating its winding curves, I caught sight of cabins tucked away in their own forested enclaves. They looked cozy and private.
I parked in the driveway that ended near Birch cabin’s rear wall. Misty and Samantha could park behind me, closer to the access road. They were both supposed to be on call that night. I hoped they wouldn’t have to work, but if they needed to leave in a hurry, my car wouldn’t be in their way.
I took Dep, still in her carrier, out of the car. “We’re here, Dep.”
Her answer was an impatient request to be taken out of the carrier.
Like the other cabins I’d glimpsed, this one was made of thick logs with white mortar between them and their cut ends painted forest green. I walked around to the deep front porch, sheltered by a slanting roof. The front door, the shutters, the three rocking chairs, their matching end tables, and the old-fashioned wooden frame surrounding the screen door were all painted the same green as the ends of the logs. The calming dark green plus the braided doormat and the canning jars overflowing with flowers on the tables made the exterior homey and welcoming.
In front of the cottage, beyond a row of maple trees, a sand beach sloped toward a broad expanse of sparkling lake. I took another deep breath, let it out, and felt tension flow out of my body. Lake Cares Away was well named.
I cradled Dep’s carrier in one arm.
“Mew?”
“In a few seconds, Dep.” I pulled at the screen door and inserted the key into the rustic wooden door’s lock. Inside, I shut the solid wood door and set Dep’s carrier on the polished floor. “You should feel at home here,” I told her. “Pine plank floors. And the smoky smell of a fireplace.” Constructed of fieldstone, the wood-burning fireplace was between two of the windows overlooking the porch. I unzipped the carrier and fastened its door back. Dep tucked her front paws underneath her chest and stared out through the opening. “It’s okay,” I cooed. “We’re staying here for three nights and most of four days.” She didn’t budge. I invited her to look around the cabin with me. That didn’t tempt her, either.
The main room was charming and clean. A kitchenette with pine cabinets and granite countertops ran along the side farthest from the lodge. The appliances were small—a hot plate with two burners, a toaster oven, a half-sized fridge, a microwave oven, and a drip coffeemaker with a conical filter holder, my preferred shape for drip coffeemakers. A window over the sink faced the trunks of tall pine trees.
Watching to make certain that Dep, who was still in her carrier, didn’t escape from the cabin, I eased outside. I returned with her luggage. Dep hadn’t moved. I filled her food and water bowls and set them in a corner of the kitchen on one of her special waterproof mats. Dep watched me but did not venture into the room. I told her, “I’ll figure out where to put your litter tray next.” That didn’t tempt her out of her carrier, either.
As Samantha had warned, all three bedrooms were small, with tiny attached bathrooms. In the largest bedroom, a pretty quilt featuring lavender flowers appliqued on white covered the queen bed. There was just enough room near the bed for a chair, a dresser, and a bedside table. The teensy middle room had a dresser, a chair, and bunk beds covered by similar quilts except the flowers were pale blue. The third room was also teensy, with yellow-flowered quilts on the bunks.
I figured that Samantha deserved the largest room. I chose the middle one. I didn’t need to clamber up and down ladders to the upper bunk, but Dep could sleep up there if she wanted to. I tucked her litter tray on the other waterproof mat in a corner behind the door of my well-equipped little bathroom.
In the main room, Dep was still inside her carrier. I placed a catnip-filled dinosaur just beyond her reach in front of her doorway. She opened one eye.
I brought my garment bag inside, removed the lovely pale blue bridesmaid’s gown from it, and hung the dress in the closet in my room. I put my suitcase on a folding rack. Finally, I went back out to my car and brought in my cooler and the coffee and coffee grinder.
I unpacked and then investigated the kitchen drawers and cabinets. Everything was organized, leaving me very little to do besides take the emptied cartons, cooler, and garment bag out and store them in my car.
I returned, apologizing to Dep for not having space to leave a carton in the cabin for her to use as a toy or another bed. She tentatively extended one paw out of her carrier but couldn’t quite reach the toy. She tucked her foot underneath her chest with the other one again and closed her eyes.
The dining table was in the middle of the room, with another glass jar of wildflowers centered on an orange and yellow handwoven table runner. Four chairs surrounded the table. Even though only three of us would be staying in the cabin, I found placemats and cloth napkins that matched the runner and set them at the four places.
On the opposite side of the room from the kitchen, a love seat and two chairs faced a TV on a set of shelves containing books, games, and jigsaw puzzles. As long as the coffee held out, I could be happy in this cabin for weeks.
Tires crunched on gravel behind Misty’s bedroom. Car doors slammed, and I heard Misty’s and Samantha’s laughter-filled voices.
Chapter 25
Footsteps thumped on the wooden porch. Samantha sang out, “Anybody home?”
I flung the door open. Carrying sheet-swathed garments on hangers, Misty and Samantha looked down through the screen door toward the floor near my feet. Misty asked, “Where’s Dep?” They obviously weren’t about to open the screen door if there was a chance that Dep might escape.
I glanced back into the room. “She’s in her carrier. It’s open, but she apparently prefers it to a big, scary new space.”
Misty and Samantha came into the cabin, and we gave one another the sorts of hugs three people can give when two of them are holding hangers high to keep long gowns from brushing the floor.
Misty glanced around the cabin. “I was afraid this resort would be too primitive, but it’s not. You chose well, Samantha.”
“Hooligan helped.”
I deadpanned, “And you chose well there, too.” I pointed toward the larger corner bedroom. “I hope you can find a place to hang your gown in there, Samantha.”
We all trooped into her room. Samantha opened the closet door and carefully hung her gown.
Misty’s gown was too long for the closet in her room. She hung it on a hook on the back of her bathroom door.
We all returned to the main room. With the tips of her claws, Dep dragged the catnip-filled dinosaur into her carrier.
It took us several trips to retrieve everything Samantha and Misty needed from their cars. When we were all inside again, Dep’s front half eased out of her carrier. She rolled around, rubbing her face and shoulders against the catnip toy.
Samantha glanced toward the woods outside the cabin. “Our dinner reservations aren’t until eight. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how popular the restaurant here is.”
After teasing her that she wasn’t as organized as we’d believed, Misty and I said we didn’t mind waiting.
Samantha asked, “What shall we do until then? I’d say we should get into the wine, but Misty and I are
on call tonight.”
Beyond the cabin’s porch, the beach and water beckoned. Misty and I said, “Beach!”
By the time we had changed into bikinis, Dep was sitting in front of her carrier. She ran to the screen door and peered out.
“Yes,” I told her, “there are probably birds, chipmunks, and creepy-crawlies out there, but you’re not going to pounce on any of them.” I draped my beach towel around my shoulders, fastened Dep’s harness around her, snapped on her leash, and took her into the fresh-smelling outdoors.
The shoreline was lovely, with sand sloping down to clear water. At the end of the beach near the lodge, kayaks and canoes were overturned on the sand in a colorful row.
We put our towels on Adirondack chairs and our water bottles on tables between them. Reminding me of my childhood visit here, children and their parents built castles and dug moats. In the roped-off swimming area, a father and son played catch, a mother pulled a little girl around on an inflated unicorn, and a woman swam laps.
I spread my towel on my lap and lifted Dep onto the towel She stretched out in the early evening sunshine. Stroking the warm, purring cat, I watched Misty and Samantha wade into the lake and do some serious swimming.
After our first meeting in junior high, Misty, Samantha, and I had laughed together, daydreamed together, cried together, grown together, and stayed close even when we went our separate ways to college. We’d all returned to Fallingbrook, though, and it was like we’d never been apart.
In two days, Samantha was getting married. I knew that her marriage would not diminish our friendship. My much-too-short marriage had strengthened it. We were lucky to have one another, and Hooligan was a welcome addition, just as Alec had been. Sentimental tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. “I will not cry when she walks down the aisle,” I whispered to Dep. She curled into a tight ball and immediately stretched out again.
Dripping, Samantha came back and wrapped herself in her towel. I looked up at her wet head and teased, “You can swim because you didn’t put any interesting colors in your hair that might have washed out in the lake.”
Beyond a Reasonable Donut Page 20
