A Spoonful of Murder (28 page)

“I was not
afflicted
by your cooking.” She laughed. “And yes, that would be wonderful.”

“I promise you a real restaurant—five-star this time.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Elias slipped some bills onto her tray, telling her to keep the change.

Lucky took a sip of her wine, fragrant with cloves and cinnamon.

“You mentioned visiting Sage at the jail.” He looked at her questioningly.

“We’ve been taking care of his meals until his arraignment on Monday morning.”

“And the Spoonful? Has business picked up any?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Other than a few regulars and some tourists who hadn’t been here long enough to hear the gossip—nothing. This woman…this thing…I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how long we can hang on and still pay the bills.”

Elias put a warm hand on her arm. “If you need a loan to keep going, please let me know. The Spoonful’s an institution. I’d hate to see it fold. And my feeling is that winter
tourists will have very short memories. It’s only locals that will keep the gossip alive.”

“Oh, Elias, I really appreciate that. But I couldn’t possibly take money from you. I just wouldn’t feel right about that. What needs to happen is for Sage’s name to be cleared. Frankly, I don’t think she was murdered at the restaurant at all.”

“You’re still convinced Sage is innocent?”

“I am. And this woman…well, from what I’ve learned, she was carrying on with a few people, but I think—no, I know—she must have been a real threat, otherwise she’d still be alive. And I’d be willing to bet her pregnancy had something to do with it.”

Elias grimaced. “Lucky, whatever you do, please don’t mention that to anyone. It will come out eventually, but I really shouldn’t have let that slip.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t and I won’t.” She remembered that she
had
slipped and told Elizabeth, but she could completely trust that Elizabeth wouldn’t tell a soul. “But if Honeywell was using the pregnancy to blow up someone’s marriage, then that’s a pretty good motive.”

Elias shrugged. “Hopefully Nate will figure it all out. And I hope for your sake you’re right about Sage.”

Lucky swished the dark liquid around in her glass. “Elias, how well do you know your partner?”

“Jon? He’s a great guy. I’ve known him for several years and watched him practice. He’s a very good doctor, and well loved at the Clinic.” Elias’s face became more serious. “You’re not asking me about him because you’re suspicious of him, are you?”

“Not particularly of him. I’m just asking.” Lucky told him about speaking to Chance at the Ski Shop and his remark that Honeywell had free medical treatment.

Elias stared at the fire and took a sip of his beer. “I don’t want to rain on your parade, but you don’t know this guy from Adam. How did you meet him?”

“Sophie—you might know her—we grew up together here,
in Snowflake. Sophie’s been seeing Sage and she’s completely broken up about his arrest.”

“But couldn’t she just trot anyone out to say just about anything? If her feelings are as you say, she’d do anything to undermine Nate’s case against Sage.”

“That may be true, but I don’t see what reason this guy had to lie. He spoke to me only because Sophie asked him to. Otherwise, I never could have gotten any information out of him.”

“I don’t know…” Elias looked doubtful. He was quiet for several minutes. Finally, he turned to her. “I know you believe Sage is innocent, but you can’t really know for sure. I know you want him back at the Spoonful and everything to return to normal, but you should let the police do their job, and stay out of it.”

Lucky bristled. “I don’t agree, Elias. I think Nate jumped the gun arresting Sage and I don’t think he’s guilty. I really don’t. Yes, I have selfish reasons for wanting him out of jail, but mostly I just want the guilty person to be where Sage is. Because if he isn’t guilty, then a murderer is among us.” She was immediately regretful that her tone had been so vehement.

Elias sat back in his chair. “And you’re thinking that Jon might have been involved with this woman?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?”

Elias’s face took on a stony expression. “No, it’s not. I can’t believe that. I know him pretty well and I can’t imagine his getting involved in something like that. Particularly with a woman like that.”

“A woman like what?” If Elias’s life was as cloistered as he said, how would he know anything about Patricia Honeywell?

“I hear the gossip around town. It’s pretty hard to avoid. But Lucky, you’re asking a lot of questions. Questions that could hurt a man that I have the greatest respect for, and I consider Abigail a friend as well. You know how rumors get started, and rumors can kill someone’s reputation in a town this size.”

Lucky felt chastised. Elias was right. “I’m not meaning to hurt anyone. I just want the guilty person arrested and I want the reputation of the Spoonful restored. I don’t know why you find that so hard to understand—my parents worked their whole life to create that goodwill and that reputation.”

Elias’s face softened. “I know they did. And I sympathize with what you and Jack are going through. Just please be careful who you talk to. If you’re right and there is a murderer at large, you could be his next target.”

L
UCKY WAS STILL
reviewing her—what should she call it—her “argument” with Elias of the night before. It wasn’t really an argument, but somehow things had not turned out well. He was silent walking back to her apartment. He was a perfect gentleman, but she suspected he was upset with her. She blushed when she remembered how accusatory she must have sounded, how obnoxious it was to ask Elias about his partner. But when she remembered how he had responded, she felt the anger rising again.

She swiped at the counter and arranged forks and spoons and knives in their holders for the third time. She felt like a child who had been chastised, like a woman who wasn’t entitled to her thoughts and opinions. As if she had no right to be asking questions—just pat the little woman on the head and she’ll be quiet. His reaction had infuriated her. It made her all the more angry when she remembered how she had fantasized the night might end—with a passionate kiss or something that made it obvious to her where Elias stood. He kept asking her out, but their time together was always very chaste—almost ambivalent. She wasn’t sure she was ready
to go any further, but she did want to know if he had feelings for her or if he was just being friendly and passing time because he had nothing else to do.

Marjorie and Cecily had come and gone, Hank and Barry hadn’t arrived as yet and still there were no customers. Jack had learned that Sage was being moved to the facility in Bournmouth today. His arraignment would take place on Monday. Lucky stared at the neon sign in the window, vivid against a darkening sky. Another snowstorm coming in.

The bell above the door jingled. Lucky looked up hopefully as she felt the blast of cold air. Sophie stood in the doorway. She stared at Lucky, glanced at Jack and her gaze swept the restaurant. “You weren’t kidding about business being down, huh?”

“Nope. Want some coffee? It’s on the house.”

“Love some.” Sophie marched across to the counter and heaved herself onto a stool with a sigh. “Have you heard?”

“About Sage?”

“They moved him this morning.”

Lucky placed a hot cup of coffee in front of Sophie and poured one for herself. “I’m so sorry, Sophie.”

Sophie nodded. Her face twisted and then the tears started. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Lucky moved around the counter and sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders while she cried.

“It just all seems so hopeless,” she mumbled, angrily swiping at her nose. Lucky passed her a napkin.

“It’s never hopeless. Don’t give up on Sage.”

“I’m not giving up on Sage. That isn’t what I meant. I just meant…this whole mess.” She blew her nose noisily. “Have you found anything out?”

Lucky glanced over at Jack, seated with his newspaper by the front window. He caught her eye and returned discreetly to his reading. “Yes and no. But Chance told me something interesting. I think she was seeing somebody who…” Lucky hesitated, unwilling to betray Elias’s confidence that Honeywell had been pregnant. And unwilling to share her suspicions about Jon Starkfield.

“Who what?” Sophie demanded.

“My suspicion is that she was seeing someone who wasn’t free—someone most likely married and possibly she was threatening him.”

“Well, duh…do you know who?”

Lucky shook her head. “I’ve talked to everyone I can think of. I keep running into dead ends. But I’m not giving up. Look around you. We’re going to be in bankruptcy if this isn’t cleared up. What’s Jack going to do? What am I going to do? Here I’ve inherited a successful business and before I can turn around, it’s ruined. I’m just as desperate as you.”

Sophie nodded. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault. I don’t mean to sound like I’m attacking you.”

“Did he tell you they’ve taken a swab from him—for DNA?”

“No.” Sophie had a frightened look in her eye. “What good would that do, if he hadn’t been with her?”

Lucky thought carefully how to frame her words. “The girls—Janie and Meg—the night of the storm. The night Honeywell was killed…”

“Spit it out, Lucky.” The color had drained from Sophie’s face.

“They saw Honeywell in her car. She pulled over and jumped out and accosted Sage on the street. He was just walking home. According to the girls, he didn’t touch her; he held up his hands as if to say,
Leave me alone.
But it looked to them as if she took a swipe at him. I asked him about it and he confirmed it. There’s a scratch on his neck. He jumped back and walked away very fast. I don’t mean to upset you anymore, but what if…”

“You’re saying what if some of his skin was under her fingernails and they can prove it,” Sophie finished. “Damn,” she muttered. “If only he had been at my place that night. He’d have a perfect alibi.”

Lucky had heard the explanation from Sage but was curious to have Sophie confirm it. “Why weren’t you together?”

Sophie looked at her quickly. “The storm. I was stuck at work late and then I had an early morning bunny class—indoors
at the Resort. You know, for people who are just learning techniques before they go out on the slopes. I was afraid if I went home, I might not be able to get back the next morning, so I just stayed there.”

Lucky kept her expression neutral. She had told Sage she pulled a muscle and wanted to fall into bed. Why had Sophie just given her a long-winded explanation of her appointments? It was possible that both explanations were true and maybe Sophie didn’t want Sage knowing she was spending the night at the Lodge. One of them wasn’t telling the whole truth, and that just might be Sophie.

A needling fear arose in Lucky’s mind. What if Sophie weren’t as innocent as she appeared? What if…what if she knew a lot more than she was saying? What if she were somehow involved in Honeywell’s murder—even as an accessory after the fact—but never imagining that Sage would be a suspect? She wondered if Sophie was using her to reveal something she couldn’t herself reveal.

“Sophie—are you sure you’ve told me everything you know about this?”

Sophie’s eyes opened wide. At first she was silent, unable to respond. Lucky could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, then a flash of irritation. “What…?”

“There’s something else. I don’t want to get into all the details, but I found out Honeywell had been getting some threatening phone calls—warning her to get out of town.”

Sophie’s eyes widened and two red spots appeared on her cheeks. “How did you…”

Lucky looked at her quizzically. “Sophie…”

The bell over the door rang. Sophie turned quickly to see who had arrived. It was Rosemary from the Clinic. She shut the door behind her and held a hand up in greeting. Sophie turned back to the counter without a word, shooting an irritated look at Lucky. Quickly, she wiped her eyes. Lucky waved at Rosemary, indicating she should join them at the counter.

Rosemary pulled off her cap and unwound her scarf, glancing at Sophie. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Sophie waved her hand. “Not at all. Join us, please. We’re just commiserating together.”

“Where is everyone?” Rosemary looked around the restaurant.

“Staying far away, obviously. Are you here for lunch? If so, you’re very welcome—we have two choices of soup and three choices of sandwich today,” Lucky replied.

“I’m on my lunch break. I don’t have long, but soup and half a sandwich sounds great.”

“How about our chicken artichoke soup with tarragon and white wine and an avocado, tomato and sprout sandwich?”

Rosemary smiled and nodded.

“Okay,” Lucky said. “Just take a minute.” She retreated to the kitchen and dished out a generous bowl of soup and quickly prepared the half sandwich, returning to the counter and placing the dishes in front of Rosemary. “Hope you like this. We don’t have a lot ready these days.”

“This’ll be wonderful. Thanks.” Rosemary pulled off her gloves and stirred the hot soup. “I really came over for a chance to talk to you away from the Clinic.”