So she knew about it. “That’s the point,” I told her, and briefly described my day so far as it related to Mike Holpurn being in the news, Dinah seeing it, people at Cuppa’s talking about it, Henry Schulzer showing up at the vet clinic when I was there … and I felt exhausted as I finished. “I know that’s too much information, but though I’m not involved at all with this, it seems to have taken over my life for today.”
“There’s nothing for you to worry about, Carrie.” Billi stood and came around her desk to hug me as I stood, too. “And you need to let something else take over the rest of the day for you, like Dinah’s birthday party.” I’d invited Billi, too.
“Sounds good,” I said … but couldn’t help asking, “Did you feel justice was done back then? I mean, if the man confessed to the murder, why is he getting out now?”
“We on City Council were informed of the impending release just yesterday,” she said. “We were told that Holpurn has been an exemplary inmate and all sorts of crap like that, but no real reason was given as to why a confessed murderer is getting paroled so soon. I imagine we’ll hear more about it—in the media, at least—even if we don’t get any actual explanation.”
“Then you do think something is wrong?”
Billi shrugged her shoulders beneath her T-shirt once again. “Something is different. But wrong? We don’t know enough to believe that—although I suspect it. And since we don’t know if Holpurn is returning to town, it might not be a big deal in Knobcone Heights … even though it was our mayor who was killed all those years ago. I wasn’t on City Council then, but from what I understood, yes, justice was served, and Holpurn was believed to be guilty even before he confessed. And—” The look she leveled on me appeared to be a glare at first, but then she softened it. “I’m not sure why you’re feeling so involved with this, but it’s over. It’s in the past. It’s not a murder like the ones you’ve helped to figure out. So please, Carrie—and I’m acting official now, as a City Council member—assume that all’s well and don’t get involved.”
“Oh, I won’t,” I assured her. “I only found out about it because Dinah was doing some research for her writing and heard the news on TV. Sure, I find it interesting—but there’s nothing for me to do even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”
We said our farewells then, with Billi regarding me skeptically.
Biscuit and I left a few minutes later to walk back to the clinic for my car. I drove us to the parking lot behind my shops, and I was busy with the bakeries till our regular closing time.
But Dinah kept looking at me questioningly. She knew what I’d heard at Cuppa’s, of course, but not that I learned that one of our customers at the Barkery earlier that day happened to have been married to the murdered mayor. I’d have to tell her eventually, since she would be fascinated by it and incorporate it into her research.
But for now, it was time to stay busy selling the day’s baked goods, and then get ready for Dinah’s birthday party that night.
Four
After closing the shops right on time that evening, I hurried home to change clothes and feed and walk Biscuit, who wasn’t joining us for the party. Biscuit was never any trouble at the resort restaurant, but I didn’t want to have to worry about where she was in what I anticipated would be a nice-sized crowd. And since I was the hostess, I wanted to concentrate on making sure everyone had fun. As a result, Biscuit was staying home.
Dinah left the shops a little early, as I’d encouraged her to do. I let her know she didn’t have to get too dressed up—unless she really wanted to. This was her celebration, after all. “If you could get there around seven,” I told her, “that would be great.”
And me? I was aiming for six thirty, although I expected to arrive a little later than that.
I actually pulled into the resort parking lot at about six twenty-five. Yes, I’d hurried, and it was just as well I hadn’t seen any cops on the road on the short ride over. I’d made it even shorter, though I’d remained careful.
The several long rows of parking were nearly filled, but I was lucky enough to pull up near someone leaving their spot, not far from the resort’s main entrance. I smiled as I drove into the space. Surely this was a harbinger of a fun evening to come. My brother, who worked at the reception desk, would sometimes get me a parking validation, which was always great since parking in the lot was expensive. But I decided to not even ask him. I was, after all, a hostess that evening.
The resort consisted of several sprawling buildings, each two stories high. They all had sloping slate roofs over thick white walls, and lots of windows trimmed with dark wood. The outer buildings mostly consisted of hotel rooms, while the middle building was the largest and contained the resort’s main features: a restaurant, a bar, a spa, and a walkway to the Knobcone Lake beach. I couldn’t see the lake from the parking lot, but I knew we would have a great view of it from the restaurant, at least till it got dark. And then we’d see lights reflecting on the water.
I headed toward the reception desk and saw that fortunately, Neal wasn’t busy. I often had to just wave and move on when visiting the resort. Tonight, I had some questions for him, so I was glad to be able to stop and talk.
The reception desk was on the right side of the lobby area, and Neal managed to keep it fairly neat. The lobby itself was large, with high slanted ceilings and multiple seating areas surrounding tall stone fireplaces. The wall nearest to me as I walked in was lined with offices, and along the opposite wall were the restaurant, bar, and spa, which overlooked the lake on the far side.
I’d seen the lobby filled with a lot more people than were there that evening, but it was still crowded and a bit noisy.
“Hi, bro,” I said, and Neal looked up from the computer where he was working. As always when I saw my brother, I felt as if I was viewing a version of myself. We both have the Kennersly longish nose and blunt chin, as well as somewhat-sharp cheekbones. We both have blond hair. Neal keeps his hair short, and he usually has a shadow of a light beard on his cheeks and chin.
Me? At thirty-three, I’m four years older than him. I’ve added some pale highlights to the Kennersly blond hair and wear my waves mid-length to frame my face. And no shadow of a beard here.
“Hi, sis.” Neal smiled at me, then added, “And before you ask, yes, your reservations in the dining room are in order. I checked. And they’ve even baked the birthday cake you wanted.” He shook his head as if still surprised about this, but I’d explained that I wanted something different for Dinah than what we baked and sold in Icing. She could—and probably did—always taste our products, and since this was a special day, she was entitled to something surprising. So were the rest of us.
“Great,” I said. “Thanks. I’ll go wait there for the guests. Do you know if anyone has come yet?”
“Not sure. And—well, you invited me, remember. I’ll be off the clock here in about fifteen minutes and will join you then.”
“Great,” I said again, then turned and made my way through people and seating areas to the back wall of the lobby, where the restaurant, spa, and other amenities were located.
I entered the restaurant through the arched doorway from the lobby and looked around. The side to my right was crowded, with nearly all the tables occupied and several servers walking between them, but to the left there was a large area that was nearly empty of people. The tables had been pushed together to make one long one, with pristine white tablecloths gleaming on top of it.
Two people sat there already—my assistants who hadn’t been on duty today, Frida Grainger and Vicky Valdez. They both waved as I headed their direction.
“Good to see you both,” I told them as I reached the table. They had taken seats toward the middle, which was good. Dinah’s place would be at the head of the table, and I’d sit beside her.
“Good to see you too,” Vicky said. “How was business today?” Vicky was the chief
scheduler at both my shops. She’d lived in the San Bernardino Mountains all her life but only recently moved to Knobcone Heights. Her dark eyebrows, arched over her deep brown eyes, were visible over the top of her thick glasses. I regularly counted on her administrative skills and was glad she was scheduled to come in tomorrow.
“Pretty good,” I told her. “Did you enjoy your day off—both of you?”
I glanced at Frida, whose particular talent was in cooking and baking. As always, her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, even though she was dressed in a frilly blouse, not the shirts she usually wore to work. Frida clearly enjoyed her own cooking, since she was a little plump. She’d graduated from the Art Institute of California and worked as a chef, but then married a man who was now an assistant manager at a supermarket in Knobcone Heights—a fortunate thing for me. She still did a lot of cooking and creation of non-treat recipes at home, and she seemed happy to be working at my shops—not only baking and creating, but also displaying our products in enticing ways.
“I’ll bet you can guess what I did,” Frida said, grinning at me.
“What’s your new recipe?” I responded, smiling back.
She’d been working on new scone ideas for the shop, it turned out, and I quickly cheered. We had some good recipes already, but it never hurt to have new kinds of scones available.
Vicky reported that she’d been checking some things out on the computer and might be able to share some additional scheduling ideas with me as well.
I really liked my staff—and, as I thought about that, Janelle came into the restaurant with Neal. Reed entered right behind them.
So where was our guest of honor? I considered calling Dinah, but figured it was her day. If she wanted to make a grand late entrance, that would be just fine.
I also didn’t know what time Billi or any of the other guests might arrive. My invitations had all been verbal and informal, and I figured Dinah’s had been, too, so once she arrived, we might make up the entire group.
I was glad that Reed sat down on my other side. He even bent and gave me a quick kiss as he took his seat. I churned all over, and as usual my mind focused for an instant on when we’d have that real talk about our future.
But, heck, I was fine with how things were right now, even if nothing else happened. Maybe.
Despite what I’d told Dinah, I had dressed up a bit, in a deep blue shirt-dress and moderate heels. I was glad I had, since Reed wore a suit—and even my assistants were fairly well dressed. Neal looked neat, too, since he’d just gotten off his shift at the desk rather than hurrying in after one of the hikes he led. He was wearing a nice button-down shirt and slacks.
A server came over—one I’d not met before. She stopped to talk to Neal, so I figured she was the one he had talked to about tonight’s menu and the celebratory cake. My favorite server here these days, Stu, was on the other side of the restaurant assisting customers.
“Carrie,” Neal said from across the table. “I’d like you to meet our new maitre d’, Ruth.”
“Hi, Ruth,” I called. So Ruth was in fact more than a server.
“Hi, Carrie,” she replied, grinning. She looked mature enough that, even if she was new at the resort, she’d probably had some experience in serving people or working as a maitre d’ somewhere else. She wore a beige dress, and her hair was short and dark with silver highlights. She moved away from Neal toward me, and for a few minutes we discussed the menu she and Neal had planned. In addition to the special birthday cake, we’d be eating one of my favorite meals at the restaurant, chicken Kiev, although guests would have the option of ordering a meat-free vegetarian dish.
All sounded great. And it got even better when I spotted Dinah at the door. She saw us at the same time and, waving, headed in our direction. She had decided to dress up for her special occasion after all, and was wearing a bright blue blouse tucked into a black skirt, with stilettos that matched her top.
In this outfit, she appeared slimmer than usual. In fact, she looked quite pretty—and maybe that was partly the result of the glow on her face, which was lit up even more by her big smile.
“Thank you so much, Carrie,” she said as she reached the table. I stood up and she immediately reached over to hug me. “This is so wonderful!”
I’d made sure my other assistants knew, when inviting them to the party, that this was a special occasion for my most senior and only full-time employee, so they shouldn’t feel bad if I didn’t do something similar for each of them. Yet in some ways the party was to celebrate the whole staff, since everyone was here.
Ruth still stood nearby, and I motioned to her. “May we have our wine now?” I asked as she came over.
“Of course. Do you know yet how many others will join you?”
“Unfortunately, no. But I’d like to get us started soon, if that works for you.”
“Of course.” She walked away and motioned to Stu, who was still on the other side of the restaurant but waiting on tables not far from us. Good. I knew he was an excellent server, and hoped he waited on us, too.
As I was looking that direction, I saw someone else come into the restaurant whom I recognized. I shouldn’t have been surprised, of course, but I inhaled deeply as I watched Henry Schulzer enter, head to the area where the regular crowd was seated, and bend down to talk to a woman. Then he took a seat beside her.
“What’s wrong, Carrie?” Dinah looked over at me. She was always observant, and I knew I’d had at least a small reaction.
I leaned toward her. “This isn’t a good time to get into anything about—you know. About what you told me this morning. But as I indicated, I’ve learned a little more today. And—well, the guy who just came in was the deceased mayor’s husband.”
This time it was Dinah who drew in her breath. Again her face lit up as she turned to look at the newcomer. “Really?” She paused, a little frown erasing the smile. “Hey, he looks familiar. He’s come into the Barkery a time or two with some adorable cocker spaniels, right?”
“That’s right. His wife used to breed them. But look, let’s wait till later, maybe tomorrow, for me to tell you the little bit I found out.”
Dinah frowned a little. “You’re right. But—well, this is my birthday. Maybe I should give in to my whim and go over and start asking him questions.”
“I understand … but please don’t. Let’s enjoy your party, then you can go from there with your research. Okay?”
“Okay. You’re right, Carrie. And you’re such a dear for doing this for me.”
Which was a great time for Stu and another server to bring over wine glasses and a bottle of the merlot Neal had picked out for us.
After I went through the procedure of checking it out and tasting it, they poured the wine and we all toasted Dinah. “May she work at my shops forever—while also writing lots of bestselling books,” I said.
“Hear, hear,” said everyone except Dinah, though like all of us she raised her glass in a toast.
The other side of the restaurant seemed to grow noisier and more crowded. I was so glad that Neal had reserved this area for us.
Our side salads were soon served, and I had a hard time eating as I talked to Reed, at my left, about our respective days and some of his more interesting patients at the clinic. I also talked to Dinah, at the head of the table on my right, who was answering questions from some of the others about where her research stood for her latest book. Not surprisingly, Dinah seemed a little reluctant to talk about her current research topic.
Thinking about this made me glance toward Henry. He was standing once again, apparently having a conversation with a man beside him. Two men … and I gathered that some of the increased noise in the area was because Silas Perring was one of them. The local TV news anchor must be attempting to interview Henry, given that his sidekick was aiming a camera on them.
Dinah must have foll
owed my gaze, since she suddenly grabbed my arm. “Is that who I think it is with Henry Schulzer? I mean, my day started out with the media, and I think it’s about to wrap up that way—in person. Excuse me.” She rose, put her napkin on her chair, and started across the restaurant.
I glanced at Reed. “I think this could lead to something that spoils Dinah’s birthday,” I told him.
“Or not. Maybe it’s a present of sorts.” Reed knew how Dinah loved to do research for her writing.
“Well … I don’t like it. She can certainly make her own choices, including ruining her party. But I can make my own choices, too. I’m going to find out what’s going on over there. Care to join me?”
“Of course.”
With that, we both excused ourselves, too, and hurried across the room after Dinah, who was staring raptly at the three men as she strode toward them.
Five
Yet even before Dinah reached Henry and the others, he stomped out of the restaurant—with Silas and the cameraman close behind him. And Dinah, Reed, and I not far behind.
Interestingly, Henry’s dogs were in the lobby, their leashes held by a young lady. A relative?
Dinah had pulled a tablet computer out of her purse and placed it on a table near where the three men now stood, right beside one of the lobby’s fireplaces—which of course remained unlit on this warm August evening. She typed something quickly, then looked up again as the men continued interacting. Reed stayed behind me.
“Hi,” I said to the young woman holding the dogs’ leashes. “I own the Barkery and Biscuits shop and I met Mr. Schulzer and his dogs there. Are you related to him?”
“No, I’m a dog walker and he has me take care of his dogs a lot.”
“Then he brought them—and you—here tonight?”
The girl looked at me. “No, Henry’s living at the resort with his dogs till he finds a place to rent. We work out a schedule for me to come here to help out.”
For a Good Paws Page 4
