Read A Spoonful of Murder Online
Authors: Connie Archer
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery
“I’m fine, Jack.” She gave him a big hug as he stood by the cash register.
“You don’t look all right.”
“Just coming down with a cold—that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” Lucky replied. Movement in the kitchen caught her eye. She looked at Jack questioningly. “Who’s back there?”
Jack smiled. “Remy. Turns out he knows how to cook. He’s not his big brother, but he’ll do in the meantime.”
“What do you know?” Lucky smiled back, deliberately pushing thoughts of Elias out of her head. She would have to talk to someone, but she didn’t know who she could trust. Her heart was breaking at the thought that Elias had been involved with Patricia Honeywell. Her schoolgirl fears seemed ridiculous in light of the fact that his car had been parked at the cabin on Bear Path Lane. The thought of his attending the autopsy on Honeywell was even more revolting.
Hank and Barry were at their corner table—back to playing Connect Four. “How are the chess lessons going, Jack?” she asked.
“Getting there. I’ve figured out how all the pieces move. Now I just have to think a few steps ahead, but I’m getting it slowly.”
The door opened, letting in a blast of cold air. Marjorie and Cecily called out in unison.
Jack raised a hand in greeting. Lucky did her best to smile. “What can I get you?”
“Oh, just two teas, please. We’ve already had our breakfast. We’re opening later today. We had to drive over to Lincoln Falls to pick up a few things.”
“Coming right up.”
Marjorie’s eyes strayed to the kitchen. She gasped. “Is Sage back?”
Lucky smiled. “No. I wish. Remy’s helping us out for now. Not that we really need any help, but Jack thought it would be good for him to stop by and have something else to do. He’s pretty upset, as you can imagine.”
“Oh yes,” Cecily replied. “I can imagine. Just terrible.”
Lucky brewed the tea in a pot behind the counter then carried it out to them.
“How is that nice young doctor these days? Is he stopping by this afternoon?” Marjorie looked up quizzically as she took her first sip of tea.
“Uh, no. Not today.” Lucky turned away, hoping her heart wasn’t on her sleeve.
“That’s too bad. We thought perhaps there was…” Cecily trailed off. Lucky caught Marjorie giving a nudge to her sister’s elbow.
Lucky did her best to smile naturally, but she was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Not at all. We’re just friends.”
At least we were.
The sisters exchanged a look but said nothing. An uncomfortable silence settled over the counter.
Lucky heard the phone ringing in the office. She hurried down the hall to grab it in time, relieved that she had escaped the sisters’ scrutiny.
“Why, hello! Is this Lucky?”
“Yes it is.” Lucky didn’t recognize the woman’s voice.
“This is Abigail Starkfield.” Lucky heard chatter and background noise through the receiver. “We’ve just finished our rehearsal for today, and I was wondering…well, I know this is very short notice, but we’ve decided we’d like to celebrate a little and have a late lunch together. Do you think you could accommodate us in a few minutes?”
“Oh.” Lucky was speechless. She quickly wracked her brain, trying to remember how many people made up Abigail’s choral group, not to mention their musicians as well.
Her second panicked thought was how much food was on hand and was it enough to feed lunch to a large group.
“If you’re crowded right now, dear, don’t go to any bother. We can find someplace else—perhaps up at the Resort. I just thought I’d try the Spoonful first.”
“Uh. No. Please. That would be wonderful. It won’t be a problem.” She rubbed her forehead, praying she could manage. “We’ll see you in a bit.” She hung up the phone and ran into the kitchen.
“Remy!” Remy jumped involuntarily, dropping a saucepan on the floor with a great clatter.
“Lucky…you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
“Remy, we’re going to have about…thirty or so people in a few minutes. Can you start making…what do we have? Start making up some turkey and dried cranberry sandwiches and some roast beefs with that deli mustard. I’ll be back in a minute and do some grilled cheeses with bacon. I think we have enough soup already warmed for everyone.” She shot a look at Remy, who appeared as if he were about to faint.
“I’ve never done any sandwiches. Jack just showed me how to use the Crock-Pots.”
“Don’t worry, it’s easy,” she called out, pulling loaves of bread onto the counter. “Use the rye for the roast beef, lots of mustard with pickles, and…let’s see, use the sourdough for the turkey and dried cranberries. They’ll have to be happy with just a few choices.”
Lucky moved quickly over to Jack’s table and whispered in his ear. He looked up and smiled. “Told you so,” he said. “Good thing I got that dishwasher fixed up. I’m on deck now, don’t worry.” He headed down the hall and slipped on one of the aprons from the shelf. “I’ll help Remy in the kitchen. You’ll be all right on your own out here?”
“Yes, I’ll take the orders and deliver the trays.”
Why couldn’t Janie or Meg show up now?
she thought.
True to her word, Abigail arrived shortly thereafter. She was with a group of five. “Here we are!” she called out. “The rest will be here in a few minutes.”
They settled in at one of the larger round tables. Lucky explained the menu, and everyone seemed quite happy with the choices. She took orders for three bowls of potato leek and two bowls of the butternut squash soup with bleu cheese. Four people ordered whole sandwiches. Jack arrived with place mats, napkins and silverware and quickly laid the tables. No sooner had he done that than the door flew open again, ushering in more cold air and another twenty or so singers and musicians. Lucky recognized the woman who had played the harp at the concert.
Marjorie and Cecily swiveled on their stools, watching the activity. Jack turned on the CD player, and the room filled with the sound of a forties’ swing number. Everyone was laughing and talking, and two of the men stood and sang along with the CD player to the amusement of the entire room.
Cecily touched Lucky’s arm shyly as she rushed past. Lucky turned to her. “Isn’t this wonderful? Just like old times. How nice of them to come here.”
“It surely is. I wonder…”
“Do you think that nice young doctor might have told them about the troubles you’ve been having?” Marjorie asked.
Lucky’s face froze. Of course. Why else would Abigail suddenly decide to march the entire choral group over to the Spoonful. Conflicting emotions flashed across her face. For a few minutes she was elated that they had customers again and the restaurant would be full of happy, hungry people. Elias! If only she had never gone to his house earlier. If only she never knew about the blue and white sticker on the silver sedan. Drunk as Josh may have been that night, he described it very well. It was a parking permit for the Woodside Hospital in Lincoln Falls, a permit for a reserved doctor’s space.
“Is anything wrong, dear?” Cecily asked.
Lucky snapped out of her reverie. “No. Nothing. Sorry, my mind just wandered.”
“Well, you better get busy if you want to keep all these customers happy.”
Lucky nodded and grabbed four orders from the hatch. She could see Jack guiding Remy as they both put sandwiches together. Lucky filled a tray with glasses of water and deftly placed them before each customer. She raced back to the kitchen and repeated the action with steaming cups of coffee and tea. She did her best to push thoughts of Elias out of her mind. She didn’t think Elias had actually arranged this to happen today. It was more likely that Abigail had asked about her, and Elias had explained the difficulties the Spoonful was having.
When everyone had finished their soup and sandwiches, Lucky made the rounds and refilled coffee cups. Several people stood chatting together as they paid their bills at the cash register. Finally only Abigail and four others, a man and three women, were still seated. Lucky approached and asked them if there was anything else they might like.
Abigail spoke first. “That was delicious. I’m so glad we came here. We’ll be back again whenever you have room.”
“It was very kind of you to think of the Spoonful.”
“Not at all. This is a charming place. I’m only sorry I wasn’t familiar with it before, but I will definitely come back and I’m sure the rest will agree. Don’t you?” she asked, turning to her friends at the table. They nodded their assent and chimed in with compliments.
Somewhere in the confusion, Marjorie and Cecily had slipped away. Lucky walked Abigail and the last of the singers to the door and waved good-bye. She closed the door behind them and plopped down in a nearby chair. “Well, Jack, that was a real workout. I can’t remember when I last moved that fast.”
Jack smiled from behind the cash register. “We’re out of shape, my girl. We’re out of shape.” Jack beamed.
“Hey, Remy! How you holding up?” Jack shouted into the kitchen.
Remy’s head popped up in the hatch. “I hope those sandwiches were okay.”
“They were great,” Lucky called over her shoulder.
“There are some extras here. What should I do with them?”
“Bring ’em out on a tray. We need a break,” Jack hollered back.
A few minutes later, Remy carried a dish heaped with sandwiches to one of the larger tables.
Lucky sat and flipped open her napkin. “Remy, aren’t you eating anything?”
Remy stood awkwardly next to the table. “I…uh…Is it okay?”
“Of course, it is,” Jack replied. “Come on, you worked for your lunch today.”
Lucky glanced sideways at Remy. Where she had once thought he seemed shady, she realized now his ambiguous behavior was insecurity. She knew nothing of his and Sage’s early life, but she suspected Remy had spent most of his life reacting like a whipped dog. She smiled at him. “Remy, you were terrific today. I can’t thank you enough. I don’t think Jack and I could have handled that big rush ourselves.”
Blood rushed to Remy’s cheeks. She was sure he wasn’t used to any compliments. “It’s me who should be thanking you—especially after what I did. I feel pretty stupid.”
“It’s all forgotten, Remy. Eat up and enjoy,” Jack replied. “Can you pass me that mustard?”
Lucky and Jack exchanged a smile as Remy turned back to his food. For a moment Lucky forgot all about Elias and the shock she had felt when she saw his car. She would eventually confide in Jack, but she couldn’t do it now in front of Remy, as she was sure she’d burst into tears.
“I
DON’T KNOW
how I got through the day yesterday.” The parchment lampshade in Elizabeth’s living room cast sepia-toned light over the room. A log sputtered and crackled in the fireplace. Elizabeth’s cat, a fluffy gray male, was curled in a ball on the hearth rug. Lucky felt her muscles relax for the first time since she’d seen Elias’s car. If she weren’t still so upset, she could have curled up like the cat and slept for three days. She sank back into the soft cushions of the couch, her face strained, while Elizabeth sat in an old-fashioned rocker, crocheting and listening.
“Run this by me again. I’m not sure I have the story straight.” Elizabeth placed her yarn on her lap, giving Lucky her full attention.
“It all started with Josh—the ski instructor up at the Lodge. He had been seeing Honeywell. One night…well, I guess he took it more seriously than she did, and he got pretty drunk. He went to the house on Bear Path Lane and suspected she was with another man. She wouldn’t let him in, and he saw another car parked in the drive. Honeywell
sent him away. He was a mess and lost his footing and he slipped on the ice. I asked him about the other car. He only remembered that it was light colored. He grabbed the car’s bumper to get back on his feet and saw a white and blue sticker with numbers on it—just like the sticker on Elias’s car. It’s a doctor’s parking permit for Woodside Hospital. And then Hank told me…”
Elizabeth shook her head. “What does Hank Northcross have to do with this story?”
“He lives farther up the hill past Bear Path Lane. He remembered a silver sedan pulling out of her driveway one night. He remembered because it almost hit him.”
“And this…Josh…he said the car he saw was a silver sedan?”
“Well, no. Now that I think about it. He said he didn’t remember except that it was light colored. Oh, Elizabeth, it must have been Elias who was seeing her, and all this time I suspected Jon Starkfield.” Lucky snuffled behind her damp tissue.
Elizabeth passed her a fresh tissue. “Okay, now listen to me. I’ll buy that the blue and white sticker is a parking permit for Woodside. That makes perfect sense, but a lot of people could have silver sedans, and Josh didn’t specifically say it was silver, now, did he?”
“No.”
“And there
are
doctors working for the Resort?”
“Well, yes,” Lucky replied.
“So…assuming she was seeing a doctor who had a parking permit for Woodside Hospital, why would you conclude it was Elias, and not one of the doctors from the Resort? After all, she was skiing there every day. And you said she wasn’t a patient at the Clinic.”
“I’m not sure I can even believe that. I took Elias’s word for that.”