Book Fair and Foul (Ashton Corners Book Club) (15 page)

Isabel nodded. “I did. That’s so sad. She was such a pretty young thing. Do the police know what happened?”

“The police are still investigating.” Lizzie didn’t want to share the fact that she was at the top of the suspect list in case Isabel hadn’t heard. Better to change the topic. “I wanted to talk to Ethel Lee but it looks like she’s busy.”

“She’s just filling our new pages in on their duties. It’s part of their community volunteer credits. She shouldn’t be much longer. What’s your book club reading next?”

“We just had a meeting last night and Bob Miller’s choice was
Shoot the Dog
by Brad Smith. I think it’s one of the first meetings we’ve had a general agreement about the book. Usually Bob’s reading taste is strictly for police procedurals while Molly is an Agatha Christie fan.”

Isabel chuckled. “More like fanatic . . . but don’t tell her I said that.”

Lizzie smiled conspiratorially. “Next month we’re reading
Junkyard Dogs
by Craig Johnson. Seems like we’re going with a theme these days.”

“I’ve read that. In fact, I’ve read all ten books in the series. This one’s about halfway along. I’ll just bet you haven’t read any, though, so this will give you a good taste of Johnson’s writing style. He manages to mix humor with crime and some very poignant moments. Have you watched the TV series based on the books?”

Lizzie shook her head.

“Good. Be sure to read the books first.”

“I may just use your description at book club if I can’t think of anything on my own to say. If you don’t mind, of course.”

Isabel laughed, a soft chuckle that Lizzie remembered so well from her early teen years spent in the library, cozying up with a good book while her mama’s friends were at the house helping to put things in order. After a moment Isabel said, “Looks like Ms. Lee is finished.” She waved to get her attention.

Ethel joined them and switched places with Isabel, who gave Lizzie a quick hug and went into a back room. She looked pleased to see Lizzie. “Someone was in and mentioned you several weeks ago. I don’t usually remember these things but when I saw her picture yesterday, it came back. Such a horrible thing, to be killed and stuffed into a coffin.” She shook her head and rested her arms on the desktop.

“Ashley Dixon was in here?” Lizzie asked in surprise.

“Why yes. It was early last month. A Friday. I remember because it was a really busy day here. We had a school group in and an inspection by the fire department. Everything happening at once. Ms. Dixon said she was down here setting up a meeting and doing some research. We got to talking about the town and she recalled knowing you in college.”

“That’s right.” Lizzie wasn’t about to go into any details. “Did she mention any specifics about the meeting or what she was researching?”

“Well, she spent several hours in here going through our files of old
Ashton Corners Colonist
s. We’re still pretty basic here and have back issues bound in big red covers. Nothing as updated as fiche or even digitized. The ones she wanted were fairly old.”

Lizzie couldn’t imagine what would spark Ashley’s interest in the
Colonist
unless it was local news. Maybe a clue as to what her future intentions were. “Did she say what she was looking for?”

“No. I asked but she didn’t share. She did ask if I’d ever been to the Huxton Hotel, though, but didn’t elaborate. I told her I’d been to their dining room many times and also attended a few weddings there, too. In the past, it was always the first choice for anything major going on, like a reception or a cotillion.” She smiled. “In fact, my own coming-out party was held there. I won’t mention how many years ago that was.”

“I’ll bet it was quite wonderful.” Lizzie thought back to the last time she’d visited the hotel. She’d been a teenager, and although she’d been impressed, she hadn’t spent much time thinking about the hotel’s past.

“Oh, it was. All the beautiful ball gowns. Mine was white satin with lots of crinolines helping me float along. And the flowers. My daddy and mama had ordered in every white gardenia they could get their hands on.” She laughed and added, “But that’s not what you want to talk about.” She straightened. “But back to Ms. Dixon, that’s all I remember from that day. She had left by the time I came back out on the floor late in the afternoon.”

“Well, that’s certainly interesting. Do you have a record of what dates in particular she checked?”

“No, but I remember she did ask for the files from 1982 to 1984.”

“Do you think I could take a look at them?”

Ethel looked at Lizzie, her face filled with curiosity. Lizzie thought she deserved an explanation.

“I want to see if she found anything significant in them.”

“How will you know what that is?”

Lizzie shrugged. “I’m not really sure. Just hopeful.”

“And what do you think this significant information will tell you?”

“Well, for starters, why she was planning to spend time in Ashton Corners, which is what she’d told me. And if I’m lucky, maybe something that will lead to the identity of her murderer.”

“Oh dear,” said Ethel, looking distressed. “Shouldn’t the police be doing this in that case?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell Chief Dreyfus all about what I find, if anything.”

Ethel thought about it for a minute. “All right then, follow me.”

As they were walking to the back of the library Lizzie said, “What I’d really wanted to talk to you about, though, is the Ashton Corners Garden Club, if you can spare a few minutes.”

“Happy to. What did you want to know?”

Lizzie paused, wondering just how to put it. She should have thought it through more thoroughly, she realized. She didn’t want to blurt out anything about the phone calls.

“I know that both Nathaniel Creely and Lavenia Ellis are members,” she started.

“Oh yes, they are and isn’t it so sweet? We have a romance right in our midst.”

Lizzie smiled.
Great opening
. “It is great. Nathaniel is my landlord and it’s wonderful to see him so happy. I think it’s such a dreamy story. Are there any other blossoming romances in your group?”

“Why? Are you thinking of joining?” Ethel laughed. “I can tell you right now to set your sights elsewhere. They’re all a bit too old for you, darlin’, but I will tell you that several women have had their eyes on Nathaniel for some time now.” She leaned toward Lizzie, really getting into it. “We have one bachelor but I think he’s far too set in his ways. None of the ladies have kept the pursuit going after a date or two.”

“Sounds like the garden club is dating central in town,” Lizzie said with a chuckle.

“Oh, they are all serious about their flora and fauna, believe you me, but when you get to be a certain age there are only so many venues to find eligible men.”

“I’d say that applies to anyone out of high school.”

Ethel laughed. “You may be right.”

Lizzie decided that by asking for the names of the other women interested in Nathaniel she might be setting off alarms. She’d find another way around it. The membership list must be published somewhere or else she’d just ask Lavenia for a copy and see who might have been away or recently returned. Like at the beginning of the fall session.

They had reached a small room off the reference section. Ethel indicated a large table near the window. “You just take a seat and I’ll bring those newspapers right over.”

By the time she’d finished reading through all the relevant issues of the
Ashton Corners Colonist
, Lizzie felt like she was going cross-eyed. She’d skimmed the pages for the most part, reading mainly the headlines. She hoped she hadn’t missed anything vital, but of course, she couldn’t be positive. She’d made a list of all the articles in which the name Huxton had appeared, either a family member or the hotel. Had Ashley found something in one of those stories? Lizzie hadn’t taken the time to read them all through but it seemed like the usual stories—mainly social items and city council matters, since Ross Huxton had been a councilor.

She stretched, gave the cover a pat, and then waved at Isabel on her way to the door. She took a deep breath and turned her face to the sun. She’d never make it as a researcher. She decided to turn her attention to the Huxton Hotel and she knew just the person who might have some answers.

She parked in front of the newspaper office on Main Street and spotted George Havers, the owner, editor and publisher of the
Ashton Corners Colonist
, through the window, in conversation with someone she didn’t recognize. Lizzie glanced over at the police station parking lot next door but didn’t see Mark’s Jeep. With a sigh, she went to get her information from her old friend.

I will ride my luck on occasion, but I like to pick the occasion.

MIGHT AS WELL BE DEAD
—REX STOUT

G
eorge Havers greeted Lizzie with a haggard grin and turned his attention back to the two women standing in front of him at the counter. Lizzie walked over to the wall and glanced at the numerous awards and certificates the paper had won over the years. She could hear George discussing the merits of the
Colonist
running an exposé on obese cats in the town. Lizzie wondered if the two women might be from the Humane Society but an exposé didn’t seem up their alley.

George finally saw them off with the promise to send a reporter out to interview them both at length. He was grinning as he leaned on the counter waiting for Lizzie to walk over to him. His thick, wavy brown hair seemed to have more visible graying in the sunlight that cut a swath through the front window. Of course, the black-rimmed glasses added extra contrast. He straightened up and his six-foot-five height made Lizzie feel like a little girl again, which is what she was when she’d first met him working for her daddy.

“Nicely done,” she said. “I doubt they even realize you didn’t promise a story, much less an exposé.”

“You noticed. Those two busybodies, uh, excuse me, ladies come in at least once a week with another suggestion of an exposé for the paper to run.”

“Where did obese cats come from?”

“Seems there was a case up north of a woman being charged with animal cruelty or some such thing after her cat was found to be too obese to be healthy and had to be put down.” He shook his head. “They believe the same thing is happening right here. They could be right but it’s not something I’m going to spend time or resources on. Now, murder is much more like it. What body has your attention this time? Wait, don’t tell me. There’s only one murder in town. That must be it.”

Lizzie sighed. “Busted. Or actually, I hope I won’t be.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that you are possibly the only person in town whom the victim knew and that you two weren’t on the best of terms.”

“Is that the gossip?”

“Young lady, I do not deal in gossip. It’s straight from the police chief’s mouth but strictly off the record. He wanted my help but I made him tell all first.”

Lizzie was immediately suspicious. “Just what kind of help did he want?”

George switched his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, he knew I’d be digging for a story, so he told me the facts and asked that for now, until he had real evidence, that I leave out all mention of you.”

“And you went along with that?” Lizzie tried to sound incensed although she was secretly surprised and pleased. “My daddy would not have done that.”

“You’re probably right but I’m no Monroe Turner. Never will be. I figure the bar is held higher for a renowned journalist than for a small-town newspaper editor. And I also figure it’s the least I can do for him. And you.”

Lizzie blushed. “Thank you, George. For the record, I didn’t do it.”

“Well, I know that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have caved so quickly when Dreyfus asked. But, I would like to know all that you can tell me about Ms. Dixon.”

“You’ve been wanting to ask, haven’t you?”

“I figured, all in good time. I knew you’d be in one day, so here you are and you have some questions of me. I have some of you. I won’t use anything that might taint a story until I’m given the go-ahead.”

“I trust you, George. Maybe I can ask my questions first?”

He nodded and motioned her to the back section of the building that housed his messy desk and a couple of chairs. She sat across from him but perched on the edge of her chair.

“I just learned that Ashley was asking about the Huxton Hotel and that she spent some time going through old issues of your newspaper to gather information. I, too, just looked through those same papers at the library, trying to find out what she was after. I can’t figure it out, though, aside from the fact that there was a lot of press about the Huxton family in those days. I need to know what her interest in them or the hotel was.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Well, she told me she expected to be spending a lot of time in town from now on. I’m trying to find out why that was. If there’s someone else in town she knows, that could be her killer.”

George leaned back in his chair, thinking. It took him several minutes to answer. “I suppose that’s possible. I assume the chief is following the same lead?”

“Only if he found this out himself.”

George smiled. “I see. Okay. I’ll tell you what I know but I don’t know how it’s tied in.” He held up his mug, asking if Lizzie wanted a cup. She shook her head. He got up and poured himself some from a carafe on a table at the end of the space.

When he sat down, he began. “I remember the Huxton Hotel well from my childhood. It was the place with the large flowing lawns where the pony rides were held each summer.” He nodded at her surprised look. “They brought in ponies for a week each summer and sold boxed picnics to everyone. My parents brought our own blankets, bought the food, and we kids got free rides. It was quite special. I think we went for several years until I outgrew that sort of thing. I can remember my folks having special dinners there and attending a big dance at the end of each summer season. It was that kind of place, catering to tourists, the rich locals, and then, something special and affordable for everyone.”

“Sounds like it was run by nice people.”

“Oh, Herbert Huxton and his wife were just that. However, they were finally talked into taking a vacation by their then-grown kids, and unfortunately, they were in a plane that went down in stormy weather. No one survived.”

“Oh, how terrible for the family. How many kids did they have?”

“Two, a boy, Ross, and his younger sister, Fay. Of course, Ross took over running the hotel, although he was only in his early twenties at that point. Fay got married at the tender age of nineteen to one of the Parson boys, and believe me, there wasn’t a family in town more inaptly named. Anyway, Ms. Huxton-Parson has a financial part in the hotel but has never been involved in running it.”

“It was always there, when I was growing up,” Lizzie said. “We went to the dining room a couple of times maybe, but aside from that, I don’t really remember much about it.”

“It became more upper class very quickly. You know, originally it was called Huxton’s Dream because, as the story goes, that’s what it was to Herbert. His lifelong dream. But Ross Huxton had very definite ideas about the type of clientele he wanted and the locals, except for a few whom I know you would recognize by name, weren’t included. And so, he changed the name. Thought the Huxton sounded more upscale and trendy.”

“That’s a shame. But that doesn’t give me any idea as to why Ashley was interested.”

“Ross Huxton died last month.”

Lizzie sat back. “He did? I can’t remember if I heard that or not.”

“He was in Boston for cancer treatment when it happened. I did a fairly big spread on it.” He looked pointedly at her.

She shrugged. “Sorry. Last month was very busy with school starting up and Teensy’s promotional stuff and . . . well, I guess I just skimmed the headlines. But even so, what did that have to do with Ashley?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But you asked what was new about the hotel. Fay Huxton-Parson is now the sole owner. She and her, shall we say, money-grasping husband. And their two kids.”

“Hmm.” Lizzie sat there thinking but didn’t know where to take it. “Maybe Ashley knew someone who used to work there and she was trying to find her. Maybe a relative she hadn’t seen in a long time.”

“Anything’s possible. Now, I have some questions for you.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Shoot.”

“How did you know Ashley Dixon?”

Lizzie went through the whole explanation about college and their unhappy sharing of a room. She finished by admitting she hadn’t been happy when Ashley appeared at Molly’s the night before the fair.

“Sounds like a flimsy but possible motive for murder,” George said. He held up his hand before Lizzie could speak. “Flimsy. Hold that thought. I can see why Dreyfus needs to appear unbiased here but I also don’t believe for a minute that they’d charge you with that evidence. However, in order to ensure that doesn’t happen, I’ll look a bit deeper into the hotel connection and see if there even is one.”

“Thank you so much, George.” Lizzie rose quickly but prevented herself from flinging herself at him. She would appear dignified and un-suspect-like as she left his office.

But she had to figure out what Ashley was snooping around the hotel about. Despite his protestations as to not knowing what was going on in his fiancée’s life, Nick Jennings had to know something. Lizzie was sure of it. You couldn’t be engaged to someone and not know things like that. Could you?

She hoped he was still in town. Rather than call Mark to find out, and in the process alert him to the fact that she was sleuthing, Lizzie headed straight for the Ashton Inn.

*   *   *

S
he spotted Nick sitting at the bar in the lounge. She glanced at the clock in the lobby. Twelve thirty. Perhaps not too early, after all. She sat down on the next stool, startling Nick, who appeared to be in deep thought while holding what looked like a martini in his right hand. He looked very New York editor today, striped long-sleeved shirt with white collar and cuffs, dark pants with a matching jacket slung over the stool on his left side. Lizzie felt positively dowdy in her green cotton blouse and beige cargo pants. She tried for a New York attitude.

“Hi, Nick. Remember me? Lizzie? I hope you don’t mind if I join you for a few minutes.”

Nick looked amused and smiled. “Please do. No man should have to drink alone, especially at this time of day. What would you like?”

“An iced tea would be just great.”

Lizzie waited for her tea to appear before starting in. Nick seemed content to just sit and stare at his drink. Lizzie couldn’t get over the change in him. He no longer seemed the suave guy she’d talked to before, but more of a lost soul.

She sipped her tea when it arrived and then said, “I wasn’t sure if I’d find you here. Did the police ask you to stay? Is that why you’re still in town?”

Nick sighed. “No. Well, they did initially, but then the chief told me I could leave. But to tell you the truth, I’m hiding out for a bit.” He finished off his drink and signaled for another. “This thing with Ashley has sort of left me wrung out. I’m actually surprised at how much she meant to me. I thought it might help me get some perspective on things . . . on my life, if I stayed awhile longer.”

“What are the funeral plans?”

“I don’t know. I spoke briefly to an uncle of hers who said he’d have her cremated and buried back home, someplace in New England, I think. Anyway, he didn’t want to include me in his plans. I guess that about sums up our relationship.”

“That’s not how you’d sum things up, is it?”

“No, it’s not. I understood Ashley’s need to live the good life, which is what I could give her. She liked money and what it could buy. It was almost like a craving.”

“So if you could give it to her, why did she break the engagement?”

“I also think she had a deep fear of a serious commitment. She probably couldn’t picture herself being tied down to one person for the rest of her life.” Another drink arrived and he took a sip. “Of course, this is me in my Freud mode. I didn’t really know Ashley because she wouldn’t let anyone too close. Does that make sense?”

Lizzie was quiet a moment. “I think it might explain a lot of things about Ashley. Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Did Ashley ever say anything about the Huxton Hotel?”

“Not that I recall. Where is it and what does it have to do with Ashley?”

“It’s here, in Ashton Corners, and she seemed to be asking a lot of questions about it.”

“Can’t think why. She never mentioned it to me anyway. Maybe she was going over to the dark side?”

Lizzie looked puzzled.

“Decided to become a writer. Maybe she was looking for a good location to set a book and your small town with its historic hotel might have been it.” He cocked an eyebrow.

Lizzie didn’t know what to say. She’d never thought of that. Could it be true? Or had Ashley thought about it? Might that be the reason Ashley had planned to spend time there in the future? She couldn’t think why else Ashley had the interest in the hotel.