A Spoonful of Murder (32 page)

Elizabeth sighed patiently. “Well, assuming she wasn’t a patient, and the girl at the Clinic can back up what Elias told you, it’s far more likely that her so-called free medical care
would be coming from a doctor at the Resort. Your logic just doesn’t hold together, dear. Sorry.”

Elizabeth picked up the bundle of yarn in her lap and leaned closer to the lamplight. “Lucky, I want you to listen to me. You’ve been in a state of shock over your parents, worried about Jack, worried about the business and now Sage’s arrest and the murder. You’ve had a lot on your plate. Before you jump to the conclusion that Elias was Honeywell’s lover…”

“But what if he was her murderer? What if he was the father of her child? That’s what’s been making me so sick. The thought that he was her lover, and then possibly her murderer and that he actually attended the autopsy. It’s so horrifying.”

“Let me finish, dear. Before you jump to all those conclusions, why don’t you find out where he was the night of the murder? Then if you can, and he has an alibi, you’ll at least know he’s not a killer. Frankly, I can’t imagine a man like him being attracted to someone like this Honeywell character anyway.”

“You can’t?” Lucky asked hopefully.

“I’ve lived a long time and I’m very good at judging people. I can’t see it. I’m not saying I can’t be wrong, but Elias strikes me as a very empathetic person. This Honeywell woman—I’d noticed her around town—well, she was a lot of things, but frankly the first thought that occurred to me when I saw her was ‘cold’ and maybe a little too flashy, if you know what I mean.”

Lucky nervously tore a tissue into shreds. “Maybe I overreacted. Elias followed me home and tried to find out what was wrong. I hope I’m wrong. I just don’t know how I can find out where he was that night.”

“What about your friend at the Clinic—the receptionist? What’s her name—Rosemary? Maybe you can find some discreet way of asking her who was on call that night?”

Lucky took a deep breath. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I’m such an idiot. I overreacted and made a total fool of myself.”

“Now—drink your tea. And sleep on all this. Would you like to stay here tonight? That’s a very comfortable sofa and I have an extra bedroom.”

“Thank you. I think I should probably walk home. I’ve bothered you enough.”

“We have some other things to talk about.”

Lucky looked up. “We do?”

“I have to ask for your solemn promise that you will never repeat this conversation. I need your silence now. My reputation is at stake here too, don’t forget.”

“Elizabeth, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know you wouldn’t, and because of that I’m trusting you. There are other lives involved here, and this will have to be handled very discreetly.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I talked with Tom Reed. I told him that information had come to me that he had a connection with Patricia Honeywell. I also told him that I was duty bound to report this to Nate, but before I did, I needed him to be completely honest with me. He was rather defensive and upset, and demanded to know what information I had and where I had obtained it. I stonewalled him. I told him no one wants any unpleasant surprises in the upcoming campaign. And it would be best if he came clean with me right away. If he told me what his connection with Honeywell was…I didn’t say I had seen a promissory note, by the way, since neither you nor I had any business sticking our noses into Nate’s investigation—but if he would be straight with me, then I’d do what I could in the way of damage control, but I certainly wouldn’t do anything unethical or illegal. And I’m sure if that fellow at the Resort had seen them together, other people had too.”

“What did he have to say for himself?”

“He swore he wasn’t having an affair with her. Thank heavens, because if that came out, he could kiss his political career good-bye.”

“And?”

“You were right. It took some doing, but eventually he broke down. He needed funds to invest in the partnership. He wasn’t wealthy enough to do it on his own. The loan was coming due. He would have been able to pay almost half of it to her by the deadline, but he had asked her for an extension on the rest of the monies. She refused.”

Lucky listened raptly. “A few million dollars makes a good motive.”

“Yes, it does. Except killing her would make no sense.”

“What was she planning to do if he didn’t pay the full amount?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. “She threatened to take him to court. And make sure that the case received a lot of attention.”

“Would that mean he could lose the election?”

“Possibly. No one wants to vote for someone that can’t meet their financial obligations. He was between a rock and a hard place. If she had sued, he would have been able to drag the suit out for months. Her death buys him the time he was asking for—without the repercussions of public embarrassment.”

“So her murder gives him what he wanted without any jeopardy to his campaign.”

“Yes. It’s an unpleasant thought. I told him to go straight to Nate, to discuss the issue. That way he’d look like an upstanding citizen that was trying to do the right thing, and he’d still have time to tap other resources to repay the note. After all, Nate or the prosecutor would eventually put it together. If he spoke up first, it would look far better for him.”

“Do you think he could have killed her?”

“No, I don’t. I contacted Nate and told him that Reed had voluntarily spoken to me, and that I had advised him to go straight to Nate,” Elizabeth continued. “Nate checked the Reeds’ whereabouts on the night of Honeywell’s murder. Both he and his wife were out of town at a fund-raiser and were stranded in the storm. They have hotel receipts to prove
it. He couldn’t possibly have returned to Snowflake and committed a murder.”

“So, we’re back to square one.”

“That we are. My advice to you is to find out where Elias was that night and do what you can to make amends.”

L
UCKY HAD TOSSED
and turned most of the night. She had finally fallen into a fitful sleep but woke up with a half-remembered nightmare about trying to reach the Spoonful in a blizzard. Every time she glimpsed the neon sign, a snowdrift blocked her path. The more she struggled, the harder it was to walk through the snow that pulled on her feet like quicksand.

Would things have been better if she had never started asking questions about Honeywell and sticking her nose where it didn’t belong? But how could she not have done what she’d done? The Spoonful was barely able to make its rent, and Sage was in jail for murder. It wasn’t just she and Jack who were at risk; the life of a man who had been wrongfully accused once before was on the line. Now she needed to find out where Elias was the night of the murder. And she’d have to do it without letting him know. She had no idea how she’d be able to do that, and if he had no alibi, her dilemma still wouldn’t be solved. If he did have an alibi, and found out that she had been checking up on him, he’d be angry, more than angry. On top of all that, he still
might have been Honeywell’s lover and the father of her child.

She cast her mind back to her conversation with Elizabeth the night before. Elizabeth was right. She was a complete idiot. But then, she had reason to suspect Elias. How else could she explain the parking permit with blue numbers? On the other hand, Josh had admitted he was drunk; he could have made a mistake. Even so, Elizabeth was right about one thing. Lucky had let her own overwrought imagination run away with her. Her advice was good advice. Get to the bottom of it and stay rational.

She slipped into the office and dialed the number of the Clinic.

“Snowflake Clinic.” Lucky breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Rosemary’s voice.

“Hi, Rosemary. It’s Lucky Jamieson.”

“Oh, hey, Lucky, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks. I have a favor to ask.” Lucky screwed up her courage.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Could you stop by the Spoonful on your lunch break? There’s something I’d like to ask you about.”

“Okay. Sounds great. Love to see you.”

“Lunch is on me again.”

Rosemary laughed. “Best offer I’ve had all day. I’ll see you very soon then.”

Lucky nervously wiped off the rear counter, moving each item, mopping, then replacing salt shakers, napkin holders and cups and saucers. She noticed that one of the linen napkins was out of line. She grabbed the pile and started refolding them for lack of anything better to do. Lucky thought she would scream in frustration if Rosemary didn’t arrive soon. She glanced at the clock several times, but it seemed the hands refused to move. Jack sat quietly reading his newspaper and finally looked up at her.

“Lucky, my girl. You seem nervous as a cat. Everything all right?”

“Sure, Jack.” She forced herself to smile. “Just straightening up.”

Jack nodded, with a dubious look on his face. “Well, let me know if you need any help moving salt shakers,” he replied sarcastically. Lucky knew she hadn’t fooled him at all.

Finally Rosemary approached their door. The bell rang as she rushed in. Her lunch was already on the counter, a meatloaf sandwich and a bowl of potato leek soup.

“Hi, Lucky. Hi, Jack,” she called out.

“Hello there,” Jack responded.

“Lucky, thanks so much, but I can pay.”

“No need. Just wanted the chance to talk to you.” Lucky looked over at Jack, who made a display of shaking out the newspaper and ignoring them.

Rosemary slipped off her coat and threw it over the stool next to her. She grabbed the ketchup bottle and, opening her half sandwich, poured a large dollop over the meatloaf. She covered it with bread and took a huge bite. “Mmmm. This is so good. What did you want to ask me, Lucky?”

“You remember the night of the big storm. What time did the Clinic close that night?”

Rosemary looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well…I guess it was around five o’clock. Normally, we’d have stayed open till eight o’clock.”

Lucky reorganized the silverware once again, doing her best to appear casual. “So I guess Elias was on call that night.”

“Actually, yes. I remember because I tried to reach him and he didn’t answer.”

Lucky’s heart skipped a beat. “What? What do you mean?”

“Just that. I couldn’t reach him. I was the last to leave. I was locking up and I saw that the lab hadn’t picked up the blood draws—probably because of the storm—and I was worried that maybe some of the tests were urgent. I didn’t know what I should do.”

“And he never returned your call?”

“Well, he might have. I wouldn’t know. I left so I could
get home before the storm hit. I finally just put the tray in the refrigerator till the lab could pick it up next day. Turned out it was no problem. I spoke to him the following day and he said that was fine. No harm done. Why are you asking?”

So intent on hoping Elias was where he should have been that night, at home, and available by phone, she hadn’t worked out a good excuse for her prying. She finally settled on something close to the truth. “I was just hoping that someone might have been around the Clinic that night—in the parking lot maybe—and might have seen any activity in the alleyway behind the Spoonful.” She leaned her elbows on the counter. “I’ll tell you what I think. I don’t think that woman was killed here. I think she was left here. I guess I was just hoping some observant person might have been around.”

“Well, you can see part of the alleyway from the Clinic parking lot, but not the entire thing. Not the part behind the restaurant because of the fence. In any case, nobody was around that night to see anything. We had closed up shop.”

Lucky managed to maintain a calm expression even though her thoughts were racing wildly. Elias was on call that night, but he didn’t respond to Rosemary’s message. Or if he did, it wasn’t within the half hour it would have taken her to close up and lock the doors. Why didn’t he call back to see what she needed? Where was he that night?

L
UCKY WATCHED JACK
through the glass partition as the technician helped him stretch out on the table. She could see but not hear her explain to him exactly what would happen during the test. Jack, inside the bare tiled room, smiled at Lucky through the glass window. The technician hurried out of the room, passed Lucky and took her seat in front of the computer monitor. Jack waved a hand as he was moved slowly under the MRI machinery.

Lucky looked anxiously at the technician. “Are you sure this is safe for him?”

The woman flashed a professional smile. “Absolutely. We
always warn patients to be still and warn them about the noise the equipment makes, so they won’t be frightened.”

Lucky persisted. “If it’s perfectly safe, why do you have to leave the room and shut the door?”

“I have to keep track on the computer. I can’t be in both places,” she replied patiently, intent on her computer screen.

“Can you tell me again how exactly this works?”

The technician swiveled in her chair to face Lucky. To her credit, she displayed no annoyance. “To put it in simple terms, the procedure excites the hydrogen atoms in the body and that’s how we’ll be able to get a layer by layer picture of your grandfather’s skull and brain.”