A Spoonful of Murder (21 page)

Jack nodded. “I’ll set a table for us.”

Lucky grabbed a large round tray and ladled the soup into four hefty bowls. She fixed a basket of sliced warm bread and added a small butter dish to the tray.

“Hey, Lucky—we can pay,” Barry said as he moved to the larger table. “No need for charity here.”

“That’s all right—maybe next time. Today is just a thank-you for showing up.” She glanced over at Jack, busy tearing off a slice of bread and spreading butter on it. Lucky thanked her stars that Jack was still here. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be totally alone in the world. She felt a rush of sympathy for Remy. He must be terrified that Sage could be locked up for life. Remy wasn’t standing on very solid ground to begin with, and Sage was the only person he had in the world.

She looked around the table. Holding her soup spoon aloft, she said, “To Sage.”

The toast was echoed around the table. “May he return quickly to the Spoonful!”

“Amen,” Barry added.

Hank said, “I heard you’re feeding him down at the jail. How’s he holding up?”

Lucky shook her head. “Not good. Not good at all. It wouldn’t hurt if you stopped in just to say hello and tell him you’re on his side. Might lift his spirits.”

“That’s a very good idea. Everyone in this town is whispering and tiptoeing around. That poor guy must feel like a leper. I know how I’d feel if I were in his shoes. I’d be chewing at the bars and screaming.”

“The scariest thing is he seems resigned. I guess that’s what bothered me so much today.”

“Resigned?” Barry echoed. “Like he doesn’t believe he has a way to defend himself, or he doesn’t think anyone would believe him?”

“Both, I suppose.”

Barry shook his head. “I just don’t get it. He was quiet, kept to himself, never caused anybody any bother. I’d see him around town with that cute girlfriend of his and he seemed real happy. He wasn’t one to run around with strange women like that Honeywell character.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Lucky answered. If she ever let it slip what the history between Sage and the murder victim was, she could imagine how tongues in the town would wag. She wasn’t free to tell anyone what Sage had confided to her, but she wished she could. Maybe if people knew what had been done to him, they’d have a bit more sympathy.

Barry broke off a hunk of bread. “Saw Nate out back,” he offered, hoping someone would fill in the rest.

“Yes,” Lucky sighed. “With a technician.”

“What were they digging around back there for?”

“Nate’s not going to tell me, but I’m sure he wants to figure out if she was killed there, or just dumped there. Personally, I hope it’s the latter.”

Hank said, “Be a whole lot better for the Spoonful if that were the case.”

“I agree,” Barry said, dipping his bread into the last of his soup. “I think it’s just terrible that more local people aren’t coming around. They should be ashamed of themselves.
They’d be the first to complain about corporate takeover in the town, believe you me. If they don’t get a move on they won’t have a local place to stop in to and then you’d hear them whining.” Barry turned to Hank. “Maybe we should have a word with all the people we know and encourage them to come back.”

“Sure. I agree you’d hear a lot of bellyaching if the Spoonful went under. Tourists—what do they know—but the real people here, they should be ashamed of themselves. I think I’ll make some phone calls this very afternoon.” Hank stood and slipped on his jacket.

Barry rose from his chair. “Thanks for lunch—Jack, Lucky. We’ll be back tomorrow and we insist on paying, so no more nonsense about free food.”

Once they had gone, Lucky carried the dishes into the kitchen, while Jack rinsed them and loaded them into the dishwasher. When they had finished, Jack pulled up a stool and sat at the counter. “So tell me how it went.”

Lucky repeated a condensed version of Sage’s story to Jack. When she had finished, Jack whistled. “I knew it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew he had done time.”

Lucky’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Lucky, my girl, I’ve been around all kinds of men most of my life. I never said anything about it to your parents, but I could tell. It was the way he walked.”

“His walk?”

“Uh-huh,” Jack responded. “You can tell. Takes a lot to break the habit of shuffling and looking down at the floor. Said ‘jail time’ to me.”

“And you never asked him about it? Or said anything to Mom and Dad?”

“No—no need. I kept an eye on him for a bit, just to be sure, but I finally decided he was okay in my book and I didn’t worry about it anymore. Besides, look how lucky we were to get a chef like him.”

Lucky smiled and reached up to rub his rough cheek. “You are full of surprises, Jack, you know that?”

Jack smiled in return. “Marjorie and Cecily were here this morning too—while you were down at the police station. I don’t want you to worry. Everyone’ll start coming back. When Nate figures out he’s arrested the wrong man, things’ll be normal again.”

They heard the front door open and close. Jack looked out through the hatch. He turned back to Lucky and whispered, “Speak of the devil, it’s Nate.”

Lucky’s eyebrows shot up.

“Anybody here?” Nate called out.

“Come on in,” Jack replied. “Be right with you.” Jack left the kitchen and joined Nate at the counter.

“Just decided to stop back for some food. You folks open?”

“Just barely,” Jack replied. “What’ll you have?”

“Got any of that chili today?”

“Coming right up,” Lucky called out. She filled the order and passed the bowl through the hatch.

She overheard Nate. “Wanted to stop by and see you, Jack. Maybe have a private word.”

Lucky decided to remain silent. Nate’s father had died young, and Jack, an old friend of his father, had always made an effort to keep an eye out for Nate. It was Jack who had encouraged him to go into law enforcement.

The phone in the office started to ring. Lucky hurried down the corridor and pushed open the office door. She grabbed the receiver off the hook.

“Can you get up here in the next hour?” It was Sophie’s voice—without preamble.

“Uh…sure…okay. Just need to make sure Jack’s all set here.”

“Good. There’s somebody else I want you to talk to.”

“Where should we meet?”

“I’ve got a private in a few minutes. I can’t be there, but go to the Ski Shop and ask for Chance. He knows you’re coming. He’s a friend.”

“All right,” she replied hesitantly. Lucky wondered why all this unsolicited information was being offered to her and
not to the police. Was Sophie setting her up with people who were willing to lie? Maybe she had a change of heart where Lucky was concerned, but she also had an agenda to make sure Sage was out of jail. She shrugged the feeling off. Sophie might have her faults and petty jealousies, but Lucky couldn’t conceive of her being able to coerce others into giving false information. After all, Lucky could very well go straight to the police with the information she had gathered. And in truth that would be the exact right thing to do.

“Ask for Chance. He’ll only be in the shop for another hour.”

Lucky sighed. “Okay. But Sophie, this is just gossip. I’m not sure it’ll do Sage any good at all.”

“It’s a lot more than gossip. You’ll see. Honeywell was a very busy lady—and certainly not that much of a lady.” Sophie snickered and hung up the phone.

Lucky heard murmured voices from the front room as she slipped on her jacket and boots. She stuck her head around the corner. “Jack, I’m going out for a bit. I’ll check back later.”

Nate had stopped in midsentence.

“See you later.” Jack waved to her.

Sophie’s call had been good timing. She had a feeling Nate would tell Jack things he wouldn’t say in front of her. Perhaps, she hoped, he was having second thoughts about arresting Sage.

C
HANCE WAS A
tall, wiry man. His biceps bulged under his sweater, and his dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Lucky wandered around the shop pretending interest in the merchandise while Chance waited on two customers, a couple, obviously from the city and anxious to buy the latest equipment and accessories. She listened to his line of patter as he led his patrons from one expensive item to another. After ten minutes of encouraging sales talk, he rang up their purchases and, with a last dazzling smile, walked them to the door.

He had sidled up to her before she realized it. “Hi. I’m Chance. Can I help you with anything?” His smile implied he could help her with many things that weren’t available at the Ski Shop. A shaft of sunlight played across his features. Crinkle lines around his eyes and a few streaks of gray gave the lie to the youthful appearance he had first presented.

Lucky smiled in return. “Sophie asked me to come see you. She said you had some information about Patricia Honeywell.”

His smile melted away, replaced by a coldly cautious glint in his eye. “And you’re Lucky, right?”

She nodded.

“I told her I’d talk to you, but nobody else. She twisted my arm. I don’t even know how she knew about me and Patsy.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Oh, I get it. Josh. That’s how. Jeez, that kid needs to learn to keep his mouth shut. I don’t know this guy they’ve arrested. Never met him, but I guess he means something to Sophie.”

“He means something to me too. He works for us.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

“At the By the Spoonful Soup Shop. He’s our chef.”

“Really? Hey, I’ve heard about your place—heard good things, but never been there.”

“It’s a great place,” Lucky replied proudly, surprised at her own reaction, “but it won’t be for long if Sage isn’t released.”

“Okay.” He sat down on a display bench and faced her, all business now. “What do you want to know?”

“You were seeing her?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Every so often. Nothing regular. Nothing serious. But I wasn’t the only one.”

“Do you know who else she might have been seeing?”

“Well, that kid Josh had a fling—I know that, but I doubt we were the only ones she dated.”

“Anybody serious?”

He stared off into the middle distance. “To tell you the truth, if I had to guess, I always had the impression that me and Josh were just for show. She really didn’t have a great deal of interest in either one of us.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Always had the feeling we were trotted out to make somebody jealous. You know, almost like high school stuff. A girl pretends to like another guy to get the guy she really wants to make a move.”

“Somebody who couldn’t make a decision? Or wasn’t free to make a decision?”

“Yeah. Like maybe some married guy—or a married guy
with bucks. Although I doubt money was a motive. She had plenty herself. And I know there were a couple of Mr. Honeywells in her past.” He laughed ruefully.

“Any idea who she might have been trying to make jealous?”

Chance shrugged. “Who knows? I didn’t really care. I kidded her once about it, but she wasn’t talking. Whoever it was, he must have been important to her. She was real secretive. I figured it had to be somebody local.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Why else would she be in Snowflake? Don’t get me wrong. I love this place, but she could’ve
wintered…”
—Chance spoke the word with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders—“…anywhere. She had real money—she could’ve been skiing in Gstaad for crissakes. Why here?”

“Look,” he continued, “I’m only talkin’ to you on Sophie’s say-so. You go to the cops with any of this, and I’ll deny I ever knew her. I don’t want those people sniffing around, asking questions, maybe screwin’ up my business. I’ve got a good deal here. I get to ski free all winter and I do a good business. I don’t want to land in jail.”

Lucky thought ruefully that Sage, who hadn’t been involved with Patricia Honeywell, was sitting in jail at this very moment. Who said life was fair? Either Chance was a very good liar or he had no particular feeling for the dead woman. Josh was relatively young and innocent. He had been hurt because he didn’t know Honeywell was just playing with him.

“So you think there was something or someone in Snowflake she wanted.”

“Why else would somebody like her come here and not stay in a posh suite at the Resort. Why stay in town?”

“Is there anything else you can recall? Something she might have said or done that didn’t seem important at the time?”

Chance shrugged. “I saw her having dinner one night at the restaurant with one of the big guns from the front office.”

“Really! Who?”

“Guy named Reed. But I don’t think they had anything goin’ on.”

“Why not?”

“Mmm.” Chance thought a moment. “Looked like they had their heads together, but seemed more like business. I only spotted them from a distance anyway, and neither one of ’em looked too happy. I wasn’t going to go anywhere near them.”

“Anything else—or anybody else you can think of?”

Chance shook his head. “Nah. Don’t think so. Don’t forget, I didn’t see her very often. I never called her—she always called me when she was bored.”

“Okay.” Lucky buttoned her jacket, preparing to leave. “If you think of anything—anything at all, would you give me a call?”