Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (19 page)

He wasn't fooled. He could hear the anger
simmering just under the words and knew he'd better give the
performance of a lifetime if he didn't want the whole thing to
disintegrate in front of him.

"I have no idea," he said hesitantly.

"Really."

He shook his head. "Honestly." He let a
minute go by while he thought quickly. "Unless… No, it couldn't be.
Could it?"

"Who is she?"

"The only person I can think of is a
potential investor I talked to a few weeks ago."

"An investor?"

He nodded and waved his hand in a kind of
dismissal. "Definitely
not
important. She had hardly
anything to invest, but seemed serious. So I said I'd give her a
call when I got back." He let his jaw drop slightly as if that
triggered something.

"I'll bet that's her." His voice was more
assured now. "She asked me where I was going and I mentioned the
North Shore. We talked a little about good places to go and that
sort of thing." He shook his head now. "Now I remember. She said
she comes up here all the time, but I had no idea she'd ever think
it was all right to contact me up here." He rolled his eyes and
took Diana's hands.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said smoothly. "She
must have thought our conversation meant some kind of invitation.
I'll call her and explain that I'm on my honeymoon and that I'll
have to get back to her after I get home."

He hesitated and then continued as
inspiration struck. "You know what? She had no business calling me
here. She can wait until I get back to the Cities and if that's a
problem for her, then she can go somewhere else." He folded up the
slip and tucked it in his pocket. "No business for this boy while
he's with the most wonderful woman in the world."

Now Diana's expression gave way to confusion.
"So you're not seeing this woman?"

"Good God no," he exclaimed, as if shocked at
the idea. "You're the first woman I've been serious about in years.
And frankly, my dear," he added. "Even if I was, I wouldn't be so
crass as to see another woman while I'm on my honeymoon."

Diana laughed, and Fowler knew everything was
fine again. Now all he had to do was convince her to hike the
Enchantment River next and then his life would be a smooth as the
wine they were now drinking.

The service at Ole and Lena's Café was always
a little slow, but Fae didn't mind. She never came when she was in
a hurry, but the place was perfect when she wanted laid back. She
knew most of the people who worked here and enjoyed taking the time
to chat and catch up. It was part of the small town atmosphere she
had been looking for when she had moved here ten years earlier. It
reminded her of the restaurants in Prague where service was
wonderfully relaxed, putting the emphasis on the dining experience
instead of rushing in, gobbling everything down as if coming off a
starvation fast and then rushing out again. It had been one of the
best parts of her stay there and she felt as if she got to
experience a bit of that in Ruby Cove from time to time.

The owner had once told her that the people
who ate at Ole and Lena's were either locals who didn't move all
that fast anyway, or people on vacation. "And if they're on
vacation," she'd gone on to say. "They're on vacation time. They're
happy just as long as the food arrives before their growling
tummies disturb the person in the next booth."

Fae had laughed and admitted that Bea had
gotten it right. You didn't live or vacation here if you were in a
hurry. Every once in awhile Fae remembered that conversation. It
epitomized one of the reasons she had moved here. Not to mention
the dry sense of humor that seemed to inhabit the people up on the
North Shore. Sometimes she really needed the reminder, too.
Especially when she got frazzled trying to do more than was humanly
possible.

After placing her order, she leaned back and
looked around. If she saw someone she knew she'd wave a little or
maybe go over and chat a moment. Mostly she enjoyed just watching
the other diners. Some of them lived and worked in the area and
were part of the loose-knit North Shore community. Others were
clearly from somewhere else. Watching them interact or ignore each
other told her volumes about who they were and what was going on.
Fae's understanding of human behavior made her a good investigator
and had been honed with years of observation. It also made her a
realist about people, their motives and the kinds of things they
did or were willing to do.

The Café was busy tonight and Fae listened to
the clatter of the silverware and general hum of conversation.
Snatches of "Is that right?" and "Oh, you betcha" filtered through
on occasion, but there was none of the loud top-of-the-voice cell
phone rudeness she got in the Cities. Fae was again grateful for
the lack of coverage up here. She suspected that when it finally
came, she'd have to give up coming here. Listening to the crap
people yelled on their cell phones was pure hell.

She sighed, more at the dark side of
technology than anything. The thing she really hated was that
technology seemed to bring out the worst in people. As if it gave
them permission to be as rude or inconsiderate as they wanted.

Then she realized how negative her thoughts
were getting and rolled her eyes at herself. There she was, showing
her age again. She'd be willing to bet that in fifty years, no one
would think anything of living in a cacophony of cell phone
conversations. She was just too old to appreciate it.

One of the waitresses walked past her table
and put a plate of something in front of the man in the next booth.
The smell of onions and garlic were overwhelming and made her
stomach growl, reminding Fae that she'd hardly eaten today.

Fae nodded at a few people she knew and
watched as a man and woman avoided looking at the other person even
though they were sitting across from each other. The woman was
studiously staring out the window, while the man was looking at the
washroom door. Fae wondered if they'd had an argument on the way up
or if maybe they'd been here one day too long without the
distractions that helped make living with someone go a little more
smoothly.

Then a pale blonde sitting alone in a booth
on the other side of the café caught Fae's attention. Fae studied
her covertly, trying to figure out why the woman looked so "wrong"
to her. The woman's hair color was a bit unrealistic, but as many
women colored their hair, that wasn't too surprising. Sometimes it
worked and sometimes it didn't. But it was more than the hair.
There was something that looked off and Fae found that especially
intriguing. Of course, she might be trying a new look and hadn't
quite got it right, but still…. Plus she was drumming her fingers
and the expression on her face indicated she was impatient as hell
to eat and get out of here.

Fae was still trying to figure out what the
blonde's story might be when her dinner arrived. The blonde
forgotten, she concentrated on eating and resumed thinking about
something that had been bugging her during the entire drive. She
had the nagging sensation that she had overlooked something in the
files. She had a feeling it was important, but hadn't been able to
jog it loose from wherever it was hiding.

Normally a long drive helped those elusive
thoughts come to the surface, but this time it hadn't. Whatever it
was, it was playing hard to get and she was simply going to have to
go through the files again to see if she could find it.

Starr got up and hurried to the window to see
what the weather was like. There were a lot of really big pine
trees just outside which made it hard to tell. But she had
discovered that if she stood right at the window and looked
straight up, sometimes she could see just enough of the sky to get
an idea. This morning, though, it was difficult. It looked like it
was overcast, but it was also super early.

She tiptoed to the door and poked her head
out. Her mother's door was still closed, so she put on a pair of
socks and crept down the hall, opened the front door and stepped
out onto the porch.

A fine mist had turned the air cool and damp.
The colors of the trees were soft and Starr could smell bitter pine
and dark scent of the leaves and wet bark. The moist air muffled
the sounds from the highway, so the woods seemed hushed, as if
everything was whispering. It felt fresh and mysterious all at the
same time. Looking up, she could see low clouds which either meant
it was foggy or it was going to rain. Either way, she had a feeling
that she wouldn't be able to shoot the Devil's Cauldron today.

Starr briefly considered shooting other
things nearby. Colors were super saturated when it was like this
and if there were drops of water on the leaves or pine needles, it
made a really neat picture. But she didn't have a lot of film right
now and it was going to be awhile before her allowance, so she
decided to pass. She wanted to make sure she had enough film to get
what she wanted at the Devil's Cauldron. There was nothing worse
than getting the perfect moment and running out of film.

She went back inside and closed the door,
remembering to lock it before returning to her room. There was
still a lot to explore and Starr decided to see what else she could
discover. She put her notebook and pen in her backpack and made
sure she had several Ziploc bags for snacks. The jam jar, now
nearly empty, went in one. She added a towel in case she went
wading and extra socks and a Minnesota Wild Sweatshirt. While she
loved hockey and was glad Minnesota had a team again, she thought
the name was stupid. After all, they could have named it the Freeze
or the Blizzard which would have been totally perfect. Even so, the
sweatshirt was really nice and warm, so she ignored the dumb
name.

She heard her mother turn on the shower, so
she hurried out of the house, making sure to lock up before
sprinting up the path to the Lodge. The last thing she wanted this
morning was for her mother to see her and make her wait so they
could walk up together or, even worse, come up with something for
Starr to do that would mess up her plans for the day.

She didn't look back until she reached the
safety of the trees. When she didn't hear her mother shouting, she
took a quick peek, but the door was still closed and Starr could
slow down and take her time getting to the Lodge. There was always
something to see or check out and walking to the Lodge in the
morning was one of her favorite rituals.

On the other hand, she was starving, so maybe
she'd look around later. Starr picked up her pace and soon reached
the huge carved doors that marked the entrance to the Lodge.

As Starr reached the buffet line to get her
breakfast, she saw Charlie sitting at a table with the gingerbread
man who had let her have the jar of orange marmalade. Charlie
looked so much like him that Starr was sure he was her father,
which was pretty cool since he had been so nice about the jam.
Charlie looked up and Starr waved. Charlie's face lit up with a
huge smile. Starr was thrilled her new friend was finally back so
she could tell Charlie everything she had been up to. And she
wanted to hear about everything that Charlie had been doing. She
had never known any real Indians before, let alone someone who went
to the reservation and she couldn't wait to hear all her
stories.

Starr loaded her tray and walked over to the
table. "Hi," she said to the gingerbread man first, then looked at
her friend. "Hi, Charlie. When did you get back?"

"Last night," Charlie said, moving a tray out
of the way to make room on the table. "Have breakfast with me and
I'll catch you up on everything."

"OK," Starr said, putting down her tray and
sitting next to Charlie.

"Your mother doesn't expect you to wait for
her?" the gingerbread man asked.

"Not for breakfast," Starr said.

"This is my dad," Charlie announced proudly.
"He's in charge of the kitchen."

"Hi," Starr said. "Thanks again for the
jam."

"Zach Running Bear," he said. "But you can
call me Zach." Then he smiled broadly and gestured at Charlie with
his thumb. "You can call her Charlotte."

"Daaaaaad," Charlie protested, but didn't
really look all that upset.

His laugh was loud and unrestrained. Starr
had liked him the first time she met him, but now she realized what
a neat guy he was and how lucky Charlie was.

"My name is Starr," she said politely. Then,
without thinking, she added, "You can call me Starr."

He laughed so hard his face got even darker
than it was. "That was good. Very good. I'm glad Charlie has
someone her age around here now. Especially someone who might
actually have a sense of humor. Maybe you can get her nose out of
her books every once in awhile."

"Charlie's promised to show me around and
give me some tips," Starr said. "It's a lot different here than the
Cities."

"That it is," he agreed. "We're pretty lucky
that way."

He stood and looked at them seriously. "I'm
off to work before someone blows the kitchen up."

Starr gawked at him, her eyes huge. "Really?"
Then she saw his grin and realized she'd been had. She grinned in
return.

"Have fun today you two," he added. "But
don't tell her all the family secrets." He carried his tray to the
conveyor belt and vanished into the kitchen.

Starr peeked at Charlie, her eyes dancing.
Charlie grinned back, clearly trying not to laugh. But the effort
didn't work. The giggle lurking in Starr's throat slipped out and
soon the two girls were doubled over with laughter.