Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn (31 page)

Liz poked me in the ribs and motioned me out into the hall. Quietly, she said, “I couldn’t stand anymore adoration. And what I wouldn’t give for eyelashes like his.”

Paul followed us out. Liz asked, “What happens to him now?”

“The only fingerprints on the murder weapon are smudged, but they belong to Kevin. We’re taking him to town for questioning.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Paul, you can’t take him out of his deathbed to snowmobile down the mountain.” Liz put her hands on her hips. “It’s not right.”

“He’ll be in the heated cab of the Snowcat, which is on its way back up the mountain, and Dr. Ray says his condition is stable. He looks worse than he is. We’ll have him checked into the hospital in Park City within the hour.”

A wave of relief swept over me. “So we can go back to normal life.”

Paul raised a finger of warning. “Still be careful. I’m leaving DeWayne here to make sure you’re really safe.”

“Did he request that duty?” Liz asked with a strange look on her face. “Or did you assign it?”

“He asked to stay.” He shot Liz a meaningful look. “For some reason, he wants to make sure you’re safe.”

Liz looked troubled over that news.

Paul went back into the bedroom. Liz and I stayed in the hall. We agreed Kevin wasn’t going to say anything more except a variation on “Baby, come home.” His sole confession was he loved BJ and wanted her back. Or was it Bobbi Jo he wanted?

“She’ll cave,” Liz said. “Kevin and his long, black lashes are going to win her right back into his double-wide trailer.”

I wondered. “We’ll see.”

* * *

I watched David— without being too obvious, I hoped— as he proved he was indeed very much at home in a kitchen. More at home than I’d ever been.

“Since Grandma doesn’t know about you, I’m wondering how to tell her another cook is here.”

“Don’t worry about that,” David said. “Paul said he was going to take care of it. He mentioned she would probably be delighted, as she’s busy with a new project of some sort.”

Dr. Ray, no doubt, was her new project. Liz and I smiled at each other.

I handed back Liz’s sweater and she tossed it over her arm and said, “I’ll be back,” leaving me with David, just as Lonny came in. His wide grin faded as he caught sight of David. He motioned me over and asked, in a low voice, “Why’s he here?”

“Paul arranged for him to cook here for the next week.”

Lonny looked at David like he didn’t trust him at all. “I brought you a bunch of books.” He dropped his stuffed backpack on the counter and pulled books out. Books by Garrett Long, Nicholas Ray, Alexis Cordova, Bonnie McCall, and BJ Killian.

“Lonny,” I said, “Where did you get all these?”

“I told Felicia it was an emergency and she let me in. They’re for your collection.” Felicia Wanstrup was the owner of the high-end used bookstore, Bookwyrm.

I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “That is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing ever. Thank you.”

The resulting grin glowed. “It was my pleasure.”

I thought everyone in the room was happy at this moment, until I glanced at David. A frown rested on his face. As soon as he caught my eye, he turned his attention back to the food.

Was I imagining things? Or did I have two very attractive men interested in me?

* * *

It was Bonnie’s fault we were building snowmen in the backyard an hour later. Liz and I worked on one snowman, Garrett and Alexis on another, Bonnie and BJ on a third. I was glad BJ decided to join us. A good sign, I thought.

Bonnie called out, “Hey, Vicki, have you named this backyard garden yet? You know, one of your funky, mystery-type names?”

I shook my head. “Hadn’t thought about it.”

Bonnie grinned again. “How about calling it Scotland Yard?”

“I love it,” I said, thrilled.

“So do I,” Liz said.

Garrett lobbed a snowball at Bonnie. “What do you call that?”

“A snowball fight,” she called back, grabbing more snow.

So here we were in the backyard— pardon me, Scotland Yard— having a snowball fight. It was good packing snow, full of moisture. And everyone was laughing. Must be the relief of having the murderer caught and soon to be gone.

There was three feet of snow on the ground, but the storm finally died out. Give the snowplows a good four or five hours and the roads ought to have been clear and salted all the way to Salt Lake City.

At some point, I got winded, and brushed the snow off a bench so I could sit. Bonnie dodged a snowball and ended up at my side. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

We watched the others in silence for several moments before she said, “You’re awfully quiet. What are you thinking?”

I looked at her and saw genuine interest in her eyes. “Just wondering about the dynamics in your group.”

She laughed. “We’re a bunch of weirdoes, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t mean that. I just mean, well,” I pointed. “Take Garrett. He seems to be the friend of every lady here.”

Bonnie nodded. “Garrett’s a sweetie. We all vie for his attention, but in a positive way. He seems to like women.”

“I didn’t get much of a chance to see how Mr. Calabria fit in with the group.”

“Gregorio was big into mind games. He liked to play us against each other.”

“But there don’t seem to be any hard feelings.”

“Sure there are. Look at BJ and Martha. And the rest of us were jealous of BJ because of the time, attention and money Gregorio gave her career.”

I watched Garrett move closer to Alexis and help her roll a big head and lift it up on the other two balls of snow to complete the snowman. A cheer went up from the women.

“I’m going to go back over and vie for Garrett’s attention.” Grinning, Bonnie jumped up and rejoined the others.

In only a few moments, Liz took Bonnie’s place beside me. My sister’s face was glowing with exertion and cold, but she was unusually quiet.

I sighed and asked the question standing between us. “Why aren’t you wearing your ring, Liz?”

“I’m filing for divorce.” Just like that.

“What?”

“You heard me correctly.” Liz tried to sound as though she didn’t care, but I could tell she did. “He’s been having affairs ever since we got married. I just didn’t find out about it until a few months ago. He promised he’d change, but he hasn’t. I don’t think he can.”

“How do you know he hasn’t changed?”

“He’s gotten a young girl pregnant.”

“Men!” Alexis’s voice sounded indignant behind us.

We turned and found Alexis, Bonnie, and BJ there.

Bonnie said, “Sorry, we came to ask if we could have some of that delicious hot chocolate, and we couldn’t help overhearing. I’m sorry, Liz. Men can be such jerks, it’s incredible. That’s why I write romances. My heroes treat women the way I’d like to be treated.”

Liz smiled faintly. “Hear, hear.”

My husband was faithful and true, so I didn’t think it wise for me to join in. I felt so jealous of Liz after Robert died and she still had Gene. And now her loss was nearly as great as mine. Both of us lost husbands, although perhaps the way I lost Robert was kinder. At least, I had loving, good memories of him. Liz didn’t even have those.

“But I’ll have money,” Liz said, as if she read my mind.

Alexis snorted. “Make sure of it. Get a good attorney.”

Liz smiled for the first time all day. “I am a good attorney. I’ve already retained the best divorce attorney in the mountain west. I have every intention of getting what I want.”

BJ sighed. “This weekend has really made me rethink relationships, and money, and all my priorities.”

“Amen to that,” said Liz.

“Have you decided what to do?” I asked.

BJ shook her head. “I’ve missed Cece. I’ve even missed Kevin. He might be going to jail, but I’ve been thinking I could get Cece and take care of her.”

Alexis, trim in her bright blue snowsuit, asked, “But what will you do for money?”

“I’m wondering if having a lot of money really matters.”

Bonnie said, “It might not be everything, but it can sure pave the way to smoother things.”

“I’ve got the money from my book still coming in. I know you all think it’s no good, but it’ll pay the bills for a while. And I’ll have another out with Avon in two months. I’ll be okay.”

I studied BJ. Did she really not know she was in Calabria’s will? Did she really not know she would soon be a millionaire three times over? From what Paul said, BJ wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again.

Bonnie said, “You’ll do just fine. And your books will begin bringing in more and more royalties. You’ll be fine.”

Well, at least someone recanted from the earlier stance that BJ’s book stunk.

Liz rejoined the conversation. “BJ’s right. Money didn’t make my marriage any better. If anything, my husband’s family taught him he could have anything he wants. Unfortunately, what he wanted was other women.”

“Oh, Liz, I’m sorry.” I could hardly believe it.

“Don’t be,” Liz said. “I’ll get through it.”

“Does he want you back?” Alexis asked.

Liz sighed again. “He says he does. But I can’t stay with a man who got another woman pregnant, because I can’t have a baby. How can I stand it when Gene has a child with her?”

“How do you know about the pregnancy?” I asked.

“My nosy, old neighbor, Ruth Gotschaub, told me. She saw them in my house together. She said the girl is showing and very young.”

“Maybe there’s a good reason.”

Liz frowned. “There is. Gene’s cheating on me.”

Bonnie nodded. “Sweetie, you’ve made the right decision.”

Alexis and BJ agreed.

The whole thing made me sad again.

Chapter Twenty-Three

In a darkly sad mood, I left Scotland Yard to fix the Stephen’s hot cocoa, Orange Creme. After hearing Liz’s news, I needed some chocolate, even if she didn’t seem to.

Entering the house through the back door, I sniffed the air appreciatively. A hint of garlic. Chicken. And something I couldn’t identify, but it made my mouth water.

David stood at the stove, only needing the funny little chef’s hat on his head to complete the illusion. He wielded a wooden spoon in one hand, a spice jar in the other, and had a lopsided grin on his face. I had to admit it. He looked cute.

I could tell Zach had been here, because a row of six goblets lined the counter. I had to smile. He just couldn’t resist drinking his cherry Kool-Aid in goblets.

David pointed to the goblets. “May I?”

“Sure.” I picked up two, one for him and one for me.

He raised his and we clinked goblets. “To my cooking here.”

I smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”

He lifted the glass to his lips, sipped— and nearly choked, trying to get to the sink to spit it out. “What in the heck is that?”

Surprised, I said, “Cherry Kool-Aid?”

David started to laugh. “Cherry Kool-Aid, huh?”

“It’s my son’s favorite.”

“And it does have quite a bouquet.” David lifted his glass again. “Now I know what I’m getting, I can enjoy cherry Kool-Aid.” This time when he sipped, it was with a smile. “I was expecting wine, given the goblet.”

I nodded. “Here in Utah, you’ll get whine, not wine.”

“Huh?”

“As in, do you know a Mormon woman’s favorite whine?”

David lifted an eyebrow.

I grinned at him. “But I don’t want to wear pantihose.”

“Ah,” David said, a faint smile on his lips. “Whine.”

“As in, would you like some cheese with your whine?”

“So no wine?”

“Are you kidding? My ancestors— even those who distilled and sold whiskey to the miners— would roll over in their graves. And, well…” I stopped, not ready to share Robert’s death with him yet. “What are you cooking?”

“Award-winning Chicken Cacciatore. And more so-so rolls.”

“Why are you really helping me?”

“Just to do a good deed. Build up some good karma.”

“Were you a boy scout or something?”

“Eagle Scout. I’ve been on my share of winter camps.”

“I appreciate your help. Thank you.”

“I just hope you can afford me. After all, I am a Paris-trained chef of the finest caliber.”

“My guests have already commented on the exquisite smells emanating from this room. May I tell them when we can eat?”

“It will all come together in thirty minutes. I suggest they be seated and ready by then.”

I saluted. “Yes, Mr. Chef Boyardee.”

“That’s Sir Chef Boyardee to you.”

I laughed, thankful he could bring me out of my dark mood after Liz’s news. “All right, Sir Chef. I’ll inform the drooling hordes they have to wait thirty more minutes.”