On Thin Icing (18 page)

“Do you know where you’re going?” I shouted to Thomas.

I couldn’t hear his response over the howling wind, but he yanked me onward.

Everything seemed to slow, as we finally made it to the marina. He led me onto the porch and past the chest freezer. I knew that Tony’s body was still inside. I turned my head and stared out into the blinding white snow as we walked past.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this, Jules?” Thomas sounded concerned. “Like I said, the Professor said it wasn’t necessary, only if you were up for it.”

“I’m fine. I’m up for it. Let’s get it over with.” I hurried inside the marina. The power was out here, too. It made the space feel even creepier. Maybe I wasn’t up for this. What was I thinking?

“Ah, Juliet,” the Professor greeted me from the fishing counter. He stood next to Gavin Allen. They both held LED lanterns in their hands. “Thank you for coming down. I hope it’s not too much trouble?”

“Not at all,” I lied.

The Professor nodded. “That will be all for the moment, Mr. Allen. I do thank you for your time.”

Gavin gave him a two-fingered salute and tromped past Thomas and me. I caught a whiff of WD-40. “I’m going to give that damn generator one more shot,” he grumbled. “Everything around this place is fallin’ apart.”

The resort seemed well maintained to me. It certainly wasn’t as luxurious as a cruise ship, but people came to Lake of the Woods seeking a retreat from the modern world. That’s why Lance chose this place.

“Juliet.” The Professor raised his lantern. It cast a halo on the wall behind him where dozens of hunting rifles and fishing poles hung on a wooden pegboard. “Did Thomas explain what I’d like you to do?”

I nodded. “You want to go back over the crime scene, right?”

“Indeed. It would be most helpful.” He eyed me carefully. “As long as it’s not too distressing for you.”

“It’s not high on my list of things that I want to do, but if it will help the investigation, I’m fine.”

The Professor addressed Thomas. “If you will be so kind as to hold this.” He pressed the lantern into Thomas’s hands. “Hopefully this experiment will shed some light onto our investigation. If you’ll pardon my pun.”

Thomas led the way outside. The Professor had me show him which direction I’d come from and the exact path that I’d taken this morning.

“You’re quite sure that you didn’t see or hear anything when you arrived on the scene?” he asked.

I paused and retraced my steps. My sole focus had been finding the sausages. I wasn’t expecting to discover a body. “I don’t think so,” I replied.

“That’s fine. Quite fine, actually. And once you came inside, could you be so kind as to show us exactly where you went?” The Professor motioned to the marina. “Take your time.”

I led them back inside. We re-created my path from earlier. I explained how I had searched for the freezer. I took them to the pizza shop and the closed-up kitchen.

“Do you notice anything different?” the Professor asked, while Thomas positioned the lantern to illuminate the room. “Anything that’s been moved or out of place?”

Was there anything missing? I racked my brain. Why hadn’t I paid closer attention this morning?

I felt like there was something I was missing. I just couldn’t place what it was.

“Take your time,” the Professor said in a reassuring voice.

It was difficult to see in the dusky light, even with Thomas moving the lantern across the wall. The pizza kitchen looked like I remembered it—still untouched. “Can we go back to the shop for a minute?” I asked.

“Of course.” The Professor stepped to the side to let me take the lead.

He and Thomas waited silently while I scanned the shelves. There were rows of chips, gummy candies, fishing tackles, and bait. I asked Thomas to shine the light behind the counter. Everything seemed to be as I remembered it—the chalkboard with the ice-fishing report and rental rates for gear.

My eyes lingered on the gun rack. That was it! There was a gun in each row. This morning one of the guns was missing. Could that be the murder weapon? Had someone shot Tony and then come back and replaced the gun?

“The guns—I think the guns are different,” I said to the Professor, pointing at the rack. “I’m not positive, but I think one of them was missing this morning. I’m pretty sure the top space was empty.”

Something smacked the side of the building. We all jumped.

“That was a big branch,” Thomas said, craning his neck toward where the sound came from. “Doesn’t look like it came through the roof at least.”

“‘Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage. blow!’” The Professor smiled.
“King Lear.”

“Did King Lear enjoy the blowing wind and cracking cheeks?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Ah, now that would be an entertaining debate, wouldn’t it?”

I wasn’t sure. I had asked the question in earnest. I had had enough of blowing, raging wind to last another ten years.

“You have been most helpful and perceptive, Juliet,” he continued. “Yes, quite perceptive, indeed.” He moved behind the counter. “Shall we have a closer look?”

Thomas held the lantern above his head.

The Professor pointed to the top of the rack with his pencil. “You believe this gun wasn’t here this morning, correct?”

I grimaced. “I think so, but I’m not positive. I remember noticing the guns this morning because of that sign.” I pointed to the chalkboard. “It looks like the words ‘for rent’ are pointing at the guns. It made me pause when I saw it, I don’t think you can rent guns for hunting, can you?”

“No. You are quite correct on that.”

“That’s what I figured, and when I looked closely at the sign I realized the rental was referring to fishing poles not guns. But then I wondered why there were so many guns hanging up there, and if they’re real.”

“Oh, they’re real,” Thomas interjected.

“Can you bring the light this way, please?” The Professor motioned Thomas closer. “Is there anything else different or out of place?” he asked me.

I felt like I was taking a quiz and not doing well. “No,” I said, shaking my head.

He tucked his pencil behind his ear. “Thomas, you know what to do. I’ll escort Juliet back to the lodge.”

What did he mean by that?

“Shall we?” He offered me his hand.

I wasn’t looking forward to going back into the blowing snow, but if it meant leaving the marina, it was worth it. The Professor guided me outside. Right away we discovered the cause of the crash we’d heard inside. A ten-foot-long tree limb had fallen onto the side of the marina.

“It’s crazy out here,” I said to the Professor.

“Yes, this is one of the worst storms to blow in for a while.” He stepped over another fallen branch.

“Can I ask you something?” I had to shout a little over the wind.

“Of course.” He paused.

I wanted to keep moving. Branches littered the ground. I didn’t want another one to snap over our heads. “It’s about Thomas.”

The Professor gave me half a nod.

“He seems to think that Carlos had something to do with Tony’s death.” I waited to see how the Professor would respond.

His face was passive.

“There’s no way that Carlos had anything to do with Tony’s death,” I continued. “You know that, right?”

“Thomas is a thorough investigator. He takes to heart what I believe Euripides said: ‘Leave no stone unturned.’”

“I know that he’s doing his job, but I wonder if…” I trailed off.

The Professor met my eyes. “You wonder if?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” I didn’t want to tell him that I thought Thomas was jealous.

“Juliet, as the Bard always says, ‘Truth will come to light.’ That’s our job.” He looked to the sky. “Shall we continue?”

I trudged behind him, stepping over debris from the storm and trying to shield my face from the snow.

“So do you think Tony was killed with one of the hunting rifles?” I asked. Maybe I would have better luck asking the Professor general questions about the investigation.

“Perhaps.”

“Who do you think could have lifted him?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?”

The Professor was tight-lipped. I wasn’t going to get anything out of him. We continued toward the lodge. When we arrived on the porch, he stopped. “Before we go inside, there’s something else I want to speak with you about.” His face turned serious.

“Okay.” I ducked under the overhang, out of the direct wind.

“It’s about your mother.”

“What about Mom?”

“Have you spoken with her recently?”

“I speak to her every day.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course. I mean about us.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Mom and I had talked about her relationship with the Professor. I knew that she was happy to have found companionship, and had been enjoying their time together.

“What about you?”

He shuffled his feet, brushing snow into a circle. “Well, I wondered if she had mentioned anything.” I’d never seen the Professor act nervous before. He was usually so composed.

“Mentioned anything about…?”

“Us.”

I had to hold back a smile. The Professor was smitten with Mom. “I know that she’s really enjoying spending time with you.”

He looked slightly relieved, but I could tell he was waiting for me to say more.

“She had a great time on the wine-tasting trip you took a while ago.”

Wooden slats came into view under his feet, from where he’d been kicking snow. “Did she say anything else?”

I wanted to joke and ask him whether he wanted me to pass her a note when we got home. “Nothing specific, why?”

“I’ve been considering asking her an important question and I’m not sure how she will respond.”

A serious question. Was he talking about proposing?

“Are you thinking of asking her to get married?” I couldn’t keep the shock from my voice. The Professor and Mom had only been dating—at least officially—since I’d been home. Marriage already?

He coughed. “I would like to ask your mother for her hand.” He looked at me, as if to gauge my reaction. “Eventually, of course.”

“Does she know?”

“No. We haven’t discussed anything as of yet. I’d appreciate it if you would be discreet.”

“Of course.” I couldn’t believe he was telling me this.

“Well, in that case, shall we go inside? Your lips are turning blue.”

They probably were blue from the shock of the Professor’s words. He wanted to marry Mom. I wasn’t expecting that news. How would she react? They hadn’t discussed it. I wondered if I should find a way to hint around the subject, or if it was better not to say anything at all. After Dad died, Mom had been on her own for so many years, especially after I left for culinary school. I was thrilled that she had found happiness again. But marriage—I wasn’t sure. Did she even want to get married again? I was going to have to tread carefully.

Chapter Twenty-one

I returned to the kitchen shivering and in a daze. The Professor and Mom getting married. On one hand I couldn’t imagine Mom marrying anyone new, and on the other hand visions of creating a custom wedding cake flashed through my head.

“Is everything okay, Jules?” Sterling asked. “You look kind of out of it.”

Focus, Jules, I told myself. Worrying about Mom and the Professor could wait. “I’m fine,” I said, heading for the sink. “Seeing the crime scene again rattled me a little, that’s all. How are things going in here?”

Sterling lifted a pot of water. “It’s taking about three hundred years to get this to boil.”

“It’s the altitude.” I dried my hands on a towel and reached for my apron. How long had I been gone? The clock read four o’clock. About thirty minutes. “How long have you had it going?”

“The entire time you were at the marina. On high and it’s barely starting to boil.” He shot his thumb toward the dining hall. “They went through everything I took out there. I keep telling Lance that more water is on the way, but it’s taking forever. I don’t know how we’re going to get the noodles done and restock the tea.”

“We can’t catch a break this weekend, can we?” I looked at the slow rolling boil Sterling had going. “That’s fine for drinks. Why don’t you fill the kettles with this one, and I’ll get more going right away for the noodles. We’re just going to have to do the best we can.”

All of a sudden the lights flashed and the sound of electricity hummed. A cheer erupted in the dining room. Gavin must have fixed the generator. The power was back on.

Sterling raised his hand in a high five.

I hit his hand. “All right. I spoke too soon. Maybe we can catch a break after all. New plan. Nuke water for drinks in the microwave, and let’s keep this going for noodles.”

“You got it.”

Speaking of noodles, I needed to start rolling the dough. I had a new appreciation for overhead lights as I dusted my hands in flour. Thank goodness Gavin had fixed the generator. Daylight was fading fast. His timing couldn’t have been better. The oven beeped, signaling it had power again.

We still had the altitude to deal with, but at least we had a fully operational kitchen. “Can you turn the oven up to four hundred and twenty-five?” I asked Sterling, my hands coated in flour. “Let’s try cranking the temperature up. I remember from culinary school that high-altitude ovens run twenty-five to fifty degrees hotter.”

He stuck a pitcher of water in the microwave and turned on the oven. “What’s next?”

“I’ll roll out the lasagna noodles first, then we can start layering the pans.” I unwrapped one ball of dough and checked the consistency. It was drier than I had hoped. While I cranked a piece of it through the pasta maker, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mom and the Professor. It was a welcome distraction from the matters at hand. We could host the wedding at Torte. I imagined stringing twinkle lights and hanging paper lanterns from the ceiling. We could drape the front counter with flower garlands, and decorate each table with beautiful arrangements.

I loved weddings. Carlos and I got married on a whim. We were docked in France for a few days. One evening in a hidden alley café, we lingered over a bottle of wine. We were the only couple left in the charming old-world restaurant. I’ll never forget the smell of musty old bricks, when Carlos reached across the table and massaged my hand.