Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn (21 page)

“I abided by the Geneva Convention rules.”

“Remind me to thank you sometime. Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.” I took his arm and we plodded through three feet of snow. “Do you think Kevin is still lurking around? Still wanting to talk with BJ?”

“I don’t know, sis. But we’ll have men up here until he’s caught, so don’t worry. Do be careful, though.”

We went through the back door and followed the laughter into the kitchen. Liz and DeWayne were there, sipping Stephen’s hot cocoa. She smiled at me. “Zach has worn me out. He’s now getting skunked by Grandma at Hearts.”

“And your grandmother,” DeWayne motioned with his head, “is at the same time entertaining her gentleman caller.”

“Dr. Ray?”

“Do you have to ask?” Liz said. “Of course, Dr. Ray. Xavier’s in there, too. He’s really cute with Zach.” She took a sip. “So what were you guys doing outside? Snow patrol?”

“Just figuring out who the murderer is,” I said, grabbing mugs of hot cocoa for Paul and me. Paul sat next to DeWayne, and I settled in next to my brother.

“Oh, good,” DeWayne said. “Then I can go home, right?”

“Like you’re doing any work, anyway,” Liz teased him.

“I’ve been working. This is my break.”

“Cops don’t get breaks.” Liz tossed a miniature marshmallow into DeWayne’s cup, then looked up. “I can hardly wait to hear the newsflash. So… who done it?”

I glanced at Paul, who shrugged. “I know nothing.”

Liz said, “I think it’s BJ.”

I didn’t buy it. “But why would she kill her own fiancé?”

“Who knows?” Liz shrugged. “People kill when they’re upset. And they obviously fought over her husband showing up.”

“Yeah,” DeWayne said, “I imagine that could put a real crimp in her wedding plans.”

“I don’t think I told you yet. It turns out Martha is Calabria’s ex-wife,” I added thoughtfully. Maybe there was something to this line of thinking, after all.

“Yeah,” Liz said. “According to Grandma, she ought to be locked up just for wearing that audacious shade of lipstick.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Do you want to know what a professional thinks?” asked Paul, exasperated with all of us.

I smiled. I respected Paul’s opinion. I suppose it was too easy to second guess him because he was my brother. But it was obvious he was respected by the guys in the Summit County Sheriff’s Department. I saw that respect in action today. “Lay it on us.”

“Okay. I’m going to take a chance on you guys and say you’re not guilty.”

“Very generous of you.” Liz tossed a marshmallow at him.

Paul caught it. “There are a few people who seem to have relatively air-tight alibis for the time of the murder.”

“The Clue players,” I guessed, taking a sip of cocoa.

“Bonnie McCall and Dr. Nicholas Ray. Unless they were in on it together.” Paul nodded. “Almost everyone was alone for at least a few minutes during the evening, so no one gets ruled out.”

“Clark Harmon was with me the entire time from when he arrived until after the murder,” I said. “He was getting the generator back on line.”

“What if he did it before he came inside?” Liz asked.

“Possible, but not probable,” Paul said. “How would he know Calabria was in the carriage house suite? How would he even know there was a carriage house suite?”

“By getting on the website,” I said. “Plus the lights were on, and it’s only a hundred feet from the house.”

“Okay, so he might know there’s a suite, but how did he know Calabria was in it?”

I finally shrugged. “Calabria told him?”

“I wonder if anyone saw his cab pull up.” DeWayne stirred his cocoa again and set the spoon in the saucer.

“He rented a snowmobile,” I remembered.

“I’ll talk with Clark.” Paul continued, counting off suspects on his fingers. “Martha Turner and Garrett Long both claim they spent the entire evening in each other’s company.”

“Maybe they’re in collusion,” Liz said. “Or they’re simply watching out for one another.”

“Could be.” Paul sighed and picked up his mug again, cradling it to warm his hands. “And Alexis was zonked from her migraine.”

“But maybe she was faking it.” Liz shrugged. “Women fake a lot of things.”

DeWayne and Paul exchanged glances. DeWayne said, “I don’t think so. She was pretty wiped. And she got cut.”

“Then,” Paul smiled sweetly, “that leaves Kevin.”

“And BJ.” Liz smiled even more sweetly. I didn’t know if she really thought BJ was guilty or just wanted to bug Paul. “She could have murdered him and then started screaming.”

“And don’t forget the psychopathic drifter,” DeWayne said.

“Okay, I confess.” I put my hands out to be handcuffed.

“It’s hard to get straight answers from these authors,” Paul ignored me. “I think they’re too used to making things up and keeping secrets. This isn’t a book.”

“As you so graciously reminded me earlier,” I said.

The phone rang. It was Kent Freestone. “Sorry we’re late, Vicki. We started up, but our snowmobile has fouled spark plugs. It’s going to take an hour or two for me to clean them up.”

“You’re still coming up? In this storm?”

“Wouldn’t want to leave you hanging up there.”

“You’re awesome, Kent,” I said.

“Well, let’s see how long it takes me.”

As I hung up the phone, I sighed. “Break’s over.”

* * *

I kept an abundance of towels at the Who-Dun-Him Inn. Big, cream-colored, fluffy towels, for every room, but the Kinsey Millhone, which had royal blue towels, as described by Sue Grafton in
G is For Gumshoe
.

And I planned to use my parents’ proven system for keeping them clean. Each day, Cielo or I would replace towels left on the floor. Twice a week, we washed the ones we collected. As we took them from the dryer, we folded and stored them on one of two shelving units on wheels. We’d load one with freshly laundered and folded towels in the wash room. After it was full, we’d take the elevator and store the towels in a large closet hidden behind a panel in the exercise room. Which was why I happened to be coming out of the exercise room with a stack of towels in my arms an hour after talking to Paul and Liz.

I passed Garrett and Martha coming down the stairs. When they greeted Liz, too, I realized she was following me up, although I wasn’t immediately sure why.

On the second floor landing, where there was no one else, I stopped and asked Liz, “Okay, why are you following me?”

“I just want to help,” she said innocently.

“Help with chores?” As I stared at her, it dawned on me what her intention was. “I am just delivering clean towels. I am not going to ask them questions about the murder.”

“Neither am I.”

Why didn’t I believe her? “You’re offering to help me?”

“Sure. I can be as silly as my mirror image.”

“Liz, I know you. You’re dying of curiosity, aren’t you?”

She frowned at me. “It’s that darned twin thing, right?”

“Are you kidding? You’re more transparent than Zach’s invisible dog.” As she pouted, I laughed. “Fine, big baby. Tag along. But do not question the guests.”

She saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

We started at the second floor Jessica Fletcher room. When Alexis opened the door, I said, “Fresh towels.”

“The more, the merrier. Come on in.”

We found Dr. Ray sitting in one of the chairs. Well, sitting for a moment until he saw us, and then, of course, he stood courteously and nodded at us.
Grandma could do a lot worse
, I thought. “Hi.”

Alexis sat on the bed and crossed her long, model legs. “Nicholas was in doctor mode and stopped by to check my wound.”

“Perhaps in friend mode.” Dr. Ray smiled, and his look of concern touched me. What a nice, older gentleman. “And you haven’t answered me yet. How are you feeling?”

“Just fine. I slept much better last night. My migraine is under control.”

I could tell because she was no longer pale and squinting in pain. She actually looked very nice today. Color in her cheeks. Hair done up neatly in her elegant bun. Boy, I envied her ability to make her hair do that. My own hair was uncooperative at best. “I’m glad to hear that. You look much better.”

Alexis smiled. “Have a seat. Please.”

Liz and I did. She sat at the table across from Dr. Ray, and I laid the towels on the bed before dropping onto the chair next to Alexis.

“I feel well enough to appreciate what a great job you’ve done with this place,” Alexis said. “I love it.”

“Thanks.”

“And I’m finally getting my appetite back. I’m really looking forward to lunch.”

I smiled, hoping Grandma was looking forward to fixing it.

“I hate to bring this up.” Alexis tapped her fingernail on the bedspread. “Are the police close to finding the murderer?”

I glanced at Liz. “I haven’t heard anything yet.”

Alexis tilted her head. “Do they think Kevin got far?”

“Oh, my dear,” Dr. Ray said. “You are assuming it’s Kevin.”

She looked startled. “Who else could it be?”

Dr. Ray shrugged. “That depends on whom you ask.”

“I thought it was an open and shut case.” Alexis’s eyes widened. “Do they think one of us did it?”

Dr. Ray answered. “It’s a possibility.”

I kept my opinion to myself. Kevin was obviously guilty.

“This is just so hard to understand. I thought, of course it was Kevin. But now, well…” Alexis put a finger to her temple.

“Ladies, please excuse me,” Dr. Ray said. “I am expected downstairs.” No doubt, by a certain older woman related to me.

As he left, I stood. “And I’d better get these towels delivered. I have lots more rooms still to do.”

Liz remained at the table as I carried the towels into the bathroom, picked a towel up off the floor, and hung up a replacement towel, before placing an intricately folded hand towel on top.

Hanging from the shower rod were some of Alexis’s clothes, which looked wet. A black bra. A blouse with a wet spot.

Alexis came in behind me and saw where my gaze rested. “I’m so shaky when I have a migraine. I tried to wash them out myself.”

“The washing machine is downstairs if you’d like me to wash them for you.”

“No, that’s fine. I got the Diet Coke out, I think.” Alexis smiled at me. “You have to get it out fast, too.”

I must have looked as ignorant of what she meant as I actually was, because she said, “You’ve never spilled Diet Coke on yourself?”

“Only non-caffeinated.” I smiled. “But that would stain, too, I suppose.”

Now she looked confused.

“Mormon joke. We don’t drink caffeinated beverages.”

“I live on Diet Coke. It’s how I stay a size six.”

We walked back out into the bedroom. I spent a lot of time coming up with the plan for this room. Jessica Fletcher’s New England cottage, feminine and frilly, and a bicycle with a squeeze horn and a basket.

Alexis put a hand on my arm as if to keep me from leaving. “I don’t know what the others have told you about Gregorio, but he was really a very nice guy.”

Liz’s eyes brightened. “What do you think they would have said about him?”

And, just like that, we were asking her questions.

Alexis said, “Well, a lot of people had a beef with Gregorio. For example, Garrett and Bonnie thought he was cheating them. I know we didn’t have a normal agent/author relationship, but it was a profitable one for me. I couldn’t complain.”

Liz said, “I don’t even know what a normal relationship is.”

“Normally, an agent takes fifteen percent, sometimes more on foreign sales, but if they’re good, they negotiate a higher advance and percentage, so they more than pay for their fifteen percent.”

“Was Mr. Calabria a good agent?” Liz couldn’t resist asking.

“Very good. He was much more involved than most.” Alexis stopped as if she just remembered something. “Oh, listen. I don’t know if Martha told you, but she talked with all of us about the rooms not being paid for, and I’ll pay for my own room and meals. All of us are going to. So don’t worry about that.”

Just like that. Martha took care of it. I would have to thank her the next time I saw her. And the other authors, too, beginning with Alexis. “Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”

Alexis smiled. “I know how hard it is to get started in a business. Those second mortgages can be a killer.”

How on earth would my guest know that? “How did you know I have a second mortgage?”

“Martha said you did. Didn’t you tell her?”

“Vicki, honey, don’t ever talk about your financial problems with anyone. Especially guests,” Liz said as we left the room.

“I didn’t.”

“Then how did they know?”

I shrugged. “I’m wondering that myself.”