Murder in the Devil's Cauldron (35 page)

"And there won't be if it's in the Devil's
Cauldron," Charlie said.

"Then maybe there's nothing else we can do."
Starr felt miserable putting her feelings into words because it
felt like giving up.

Charlie put her chin on her hand and gazed at
the lake. "Maybe there isn't," she said matter-of-factly. "But
let's wait until we talk to Fae."

"OK." Starr stared out at the Lake as she
wondered what would happen if this is where it all ended.

Karen finished reviewing the supply order and
put it in the outgoing pile next to the fax machine. That was the
last item on the critical list and she could now treat herself to
an iced mocha, something she had been lusting after for over an
hour. As she got up, she took a moment to survey her office with
satisfaction.

When she had first arrived, the room had
looked like the aftermath of a force 5 hurricane. Not only was
there no organization, there was no way to find out what needed to
be ordered or what they had more than enough of, let along figure
out what the Storm Point Lodge needed. She had been profoundly
shocked and wondered how a top North Shore resort had managed to
stay in business with everything in such turmoil.

Now, thanks to massive hours, the files were
organized and in neat piles. Not only could she see her desk, she
could put her hands on exactly what she needed within seconds.
There were no more orders for unneeded supplies or shortages of
critical ingredients. While it had meant long hours and shorting
her sleep, Karen was more than pleased with the results.

She suspected that the only reason the
restaurant hadn't been as badly affected as the hotel was due to
Zach Running Bear. He had apparently simply gone into town and
picked up what he needed and submitted a reimbursement request
rather than forego something for one of his dishes. She had to
wonder if the place would still be in business if someone else had
been running the kitchen.

The sounds of the kitchen staff getting ready
for lunch filtered down the hallway, muted by the walls and thick
carpeting. The sound reassured Karen that everything would be ready
when the guests began straggling into the dining room desperate to
be fed after a day of hiking. The sound also told her they were
busy and the Lodge was unlikely to fold in the near future.

She allowed herself to relax, but only for a
moment. It was still too soon. One of the things she had learned
over the past few years was how quickly and unexpectedly everything
could fall apart. Just about the time you thought all was peachy
keen in your little corner of the world, that's when you were
slapped awake by reality. And it wasn't as mild as a pail of ice
water, either. It was usually more like a frickin' tornado with
black ice underneath.

But right now Karen felt like she could
breathe. She had an air conditioned office that meant it didn't
matter how hot and humid it got. She left all of that behind the
moment she stepped through the door. She could walk to work and
didn't have to deal with traffic or find a parking place or stand
like a sardine on the bus with someone screaming in her ear because
they just
had
to use their hell phone at six in the frickin'
morning.

And when she got to her office, it was all
hers. No rat's maze cubicle or overheard conversation from
co-workers who thought the canvas walls meant they had privacy
while yakking about all kinds of personal things. And usually at a
volume that ensured everyone in the office knew who was breaking up
with who or what they had been up to last night.

The only drawback was that her office
overlooked the parking lot, something that could only be considered
a view if you were trying really hard to be nice. But it beat the
hell out of looking out onto a bum infested alley or a long row of
dumpsters.

But what mattered most was that it was
hers
. That and the feeling that she was finally getting the
hang of running this place made all the difference in the world. So
she thought she could be forgiven if she gave into a craving for an
iced mocha. Or maybe even a hot fudge sundae even if it
was
before lunch.

Although, as the spicy scent of garlic from
the pasta sauce gently filtered into her office, maybe she could
wait until after lunch for the hot fudge sundae. One of her
favorite dishes here was the pasta primavera. There was just the
right amount of garlic and white wine in the sauce and the pasta
and vegetables were always cooked perfectly. Zach Running Bear
might look like an easy going rube just off the rez, but he was not
only a great kitchen manager, he was an absolute genius when it
came to creating spectacular dishes. And Karen still hadn't tried
everything.

The thought of lunch, plus her rumbling
stomach finally got Karen moving. But before she could get to the
door, a knock stopped her in her tracks.

Now that he was so close to giving her
appetite a taste of whatever delicious dish was being cooked up,
Karen felt like telling whoever was at the door to go away and come
back after lunch. But she had worked hard to persuade the staff to
come to her right away with problems instead of waiting until they
were a festering mess, so she bit back the temptation.

"Come in," she said briskly, standing by the
side of the desk, hoping it would be quick.

Ivy, one of the clerks who ran the front
desk, opened the door a crack and poked her head in.

"I hate to bother you, Mrs. Nelson," she
said.

"It's okay, Ivy." Karen went back behind the
desk and sat. "What is it?"

The rest of Ivy came into the room, but just
barely. She was a plump, homely woman who reminded Karen of an
overly anxious-to-please cocker spaniel. She had gotten (and kept)
the job on the front desk only because her parents owned the Lodge.
After she graduated from high school, they had felt it necessary to
do something for her since nothing they had tried so far had done
anything for her self-confidence or ability to find or keep a
job.

"It's probably nothing," she said, her voice
so low Karen could scarcely hear her.

"What?"

"Well, it's just that …" Ivy's voice died
away as she shuffled her feet as if she didn't really want to say
anything.

Karen forced back her rising impatience.
"It's just that what?"

"Well…" Ivy looked up at Karen briefly and
then fixed her gaze on the floor as if all the answers to life were
written there.

Karen wanted to strangle her. "It can't be
that bad."

"It's just that one of the guests asked me
about your daughter," she finally blurted out. "And, like I said,
I'm sure it's nothing, but I thought maybe I'd better let you know.
Just in case."

Karen repressed a sudden surge of anger. God.
They hadn't even been here a month and already the kid was causing
trouble.

"Who was it?"

"David Fowler. He and his wife are here on
their honeymoon."

"Oh, yes." Karen had noticed them. It was so
incredibly sweet to see an older couple on their honeymoon. "What
did he say?"

"He just asked who she was."

"That's all?" Karen looked at her sharply.
When she had first arrived, she had felt sorry for Ivy, but it
hadn't taken long for that feeling to turn into active dislike.
She'd like nothing better than to sack her. It frosted her hide
that Ivy was able to keep her job simply because she was related to
the owners and never mind that she was complete unsuitable and
almost totally useless.

Right now Karen was working overtime to mask
her dislike of the other woman.

"Uh huh." Ivy twisted her foot as if she was
playing coy. "I asked if there was a problem and he said 'no', but
I thought maybe he didn’t want to say anything to me. So I figured
maybe I should say something just in case he decides to talk to
you."

"And he didn't say
anything
else?"

"Nope. That was it."

"I see. Thank you, Ivy. I appreciate it."

Ivy hovered uncertainly near the door, then
finally stepped back into the hallway. "Do you want me to close the
door?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you."

Karen waited until the door clicked shut
before running her fingers through her hair, roughly digging into
her scalp and scrubbing at the nerves that were beginning to
tighten on the top of her head. The last thing she needed now was a
headache.

She closed her eyes briefly, then swiveled
around in her chair to gaze sightlessly out the window.

It could be nothing, she reminded herself.
Starr was a very noticeable girl and the long red hair was only one
reason. It was possible he had simply noticed her and asked out of
pure curiosity. He might have noticed her taking pictures
everywhere like a Japanese tourist. Or something else entirely, but
completely innocent.

What concerned Karen was that the girl might
easily have done something to upset them in some way. She had a
tendency to jump into things feet first without any thought
whatsoever. Even worse, later on she would have no clue that she
had done anything wrong. She simply didn't think.

Whatever the story was, Karen couldn't afford
to take any chances. At least not right now. If her daughter began
upsetting the guests, it didn't matter what the reason was. Even a
hint that there might be a problem and the owners wouldn't hesitate
to toss them both out without notice. The last manager had been
responsible for a lot of money going missing. It could have been
because he had been so unorganized, or he may have used the
disorder to hide an intentional embezzlement. But whatever the
truth turned out to be, it was Karen who would pay the price. The
owners were now suspicious of everyone and everything and had made
it clear they wouldn't tolerate anything that might cost them more
guests. Especially these days with gas prices through the roof and
people unwilling to drive.

Karen sighed and reconsidered lunch. Her
earlier enthusiasm had vanished and right now eating anything was
utterly unappealing. At the same time, she needed to eat something
or she'd get crabby in a few hours. And that would be worse than
anything her daughter may have done.

Sighing once again, Karen headed for the
employee dining area to see if she could find something that would
re-kindle her appetite. Then she'd figure out what to do about her
daughter.

Fowler savored the last bite of trout he had
ordered for lunch. Coming here had been an excellent idea.
Naniboujou more than lived up to its reputation. For the first time
since arriving on the North Shore, he felt as if he had landed in
civilization. Not only did the dining room décor rival the finest
restaurants in Minneapolis, but so did the food. On top of that,
the service was actually much better.

He smiled as he thought of the lunch he had
just eaten. He hadn't even once looked at the prices now that
Diana's money was within in grasp. He loved knowing he could order
whatever he felt like from the menu even if it cost more than most
people made in a week. Not that that was the case here, but it
could have been. And when he returned to the Cities, it most
certainly would be. But cost now meant absolutely nothing.

He looked around for his waitress. He still
had a little room and he suspected their desserts were probably
just a little slice of heaven, as well. But for the first time
since he had arrived, his server was nowhere to be seen.

Only two other tables were occupied and they
looked as if they were also at the end of their meal, so his
waitress couldn't be off getting someone else's lunch.

Curious now, he leaned sideways to get a
better look at the front desk on the other side of the curved
entry. Sure enough, his waitress was out there, talking to someone
wearing a suit that would have fit better in a law firm in the
Cities. Maybe she was the manager, but it was still a bit much even
for this place.

What caught his attention was the way they
suddenly stared down at the desk when he looked over. As if they
had been watching him, but didn't want him to know.

Warning bells going off in his head, Fowler
got up and walked over to the desk. "Could I get my bill,
please."

"Oh, sure," his waitress said. "No
dessert?"

"Not this time."

"I'll be right there." She hurried away.

Fowler would have frowned if he hadn't been
in public. Her words had been ordinary, but the faint thread of
fear underneath wasn't. The other woman kept her gaze on the desk
as if there was something utterly fascinating laying there. Fowler
glanced at the desk, but saw only a few overturned pages.

He looked at her again sharply, then returned
to his table. He pulled three twenties out and put them on the
table. That was more than enough to cover everything, plus a
generous tip. No sense having them come after him for not paying
his tab at the very least.

He walked back into the lobby.

The woman in the suit looked up at him with a
wide gaze as if she was a white-tail deer that had unexpectedly run
into a very large black bear while romping through the forest.

"I'm running late," he said pleasantly. "I
left more than enough on the table."

Then he walked out to his car, forcing
himself not to run. Once in the car, though, he wasted no time in
getting out of there. He certainly wasn't about to hang around to
find out what
that
was all about.

As he pulled into the southbound lane of the
highway, a small red hatchback zoomed up the highway so fast it
made him take a second look. People up here normally drove so slow
you could practically walk faster. So anyone driving that fast
really stood out. He watched in his rear view mirror as it suddenly
braked and peeled into the Naniboujou driveway.