Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 02 - Inn the Doghouse (13 page)

I was glad I spent a few minutes visiting with Eric and Tina yesterday morning, because they checked out right afterward. “Time to get back to reality and the kids again,” Eric told me.

A quick shower woke me up and I dressed just as quickly.

My housekeeper, Cielo Freestone, Kent’s gorgeous Italian wife, was expected today to make beds, change and wash towels, and dust, so I didn’t need to mess with any of those things.

I could concentrate solely on feeding my guests, getting Zach to the bus, and driving my grieving sister to her old home.

I whipped up some of the delicious new recipes David was teaching me how to make without messing them up. He was much better than my high school Home Ec teacher. A lot cuter, too.

I set fruit smoothies, a spicy quiche, and muffins appropriately on ice and warming trays. My guests complimented me and asked for the smoothie recipe, which I shared. There were only a few recipes I guarded as secrets. My Almond Punch was one of those.

I got my son onto the school bus and Liz and I waited for Grandma, who arrived at nine.

I offered to drive as Liz was still yawning, so we climbed into my Jeep. It was a beautiful ten-minute drive on I-15 to Park City. I turned toward one of the posher parts of a town filled with ritzy areas. Trendy. Unique.
Expensive
.

Liz and Gene’s house was gorgeous. It sat up on the mountain so she had a beautiful view of the valley as well as the ski slopes. There was a huge deck off the back where we had celebrated many family parties.

But she paused on the sidewalk. “I’m afraid to go inside. Isn’t that silly?”

“We don’t have to do this today.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got to face it sometime. Plus, I want to get a suit to Chad so he can dress Gene for the…” Her voice trailed off as she pressed her fingers to her temples. “Let’s not talk about Gene or death or unhappy things today.”

“Okay,” I whispered back.

“Okay,” she repeated, straightening her shoulders before she climbed the steps and unlocked the door.

The entryway was as large as one of the Inn’s bedrooms, with the living room off to the left, the kitchen and great room in the back, and the den to the right.

A man was standing there! Liz and I jumped and my heart pounded.

It was Gene’s brother, Jeff, standing in the den and holding a box of stuff. He looked as shocked to see us as we no doubt must’ve looked upon seeing him.

Liz actually jumped and swore, while he took two steps backward, and for a moment, I thought he might topple right over. Finally, he caught his balance and Liz regained her composure before asking, “What’s going on, Jeff?”

He shrugged with a guilty expression on his face. “Just picking up some of Gene’s stuff that belonged to Mom.”

“You’re taking it to the nursing home for her?” Liz asked, a note of suspicion in her voice.

“Some of it, yes.”

“May I see what you’re taking?”

He licked his lips. “Sure.” Setting the box down on Gene’s desk, he stepped away from it. “On second thought, perhaps you’d better look through it first.”

“How did you get a key?”

“Gene gave me one so I could make sure the plants were watered whenever he went on business trips.”

“Thank you
so much
for doing that.” Liz’s tone was chilly. “May I have the key back now?”

“Oh, sure,” Jeff said, pulling out his key ring, working the key off and handing it to Liz. “Sure thing.”

“Thank you,” Liz said. I was impressed she had the self-restraint not to clobber him.

“Sure. Say, the family would like to get together with you to discuss the funeral, Liz.”

“I’ve already handled the arrangements.”

“Oh, sure.” Jeff drew in a deep breath. “I’d like to speak at the funeral.”

“You would? I thought you were upset with Gene.”

“He’s my brother and he’s dead, taken from us far too soon. I would like to say some nice things about my brother. Is that so surprising?”

Liz studied him and then nodded. “All right.”

Jeff wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. First, he held them behind his back. Next, he stuck them in his pockets. Then, he ran a hand through his hair. “Have the authorities told you that Gene didn’t commit suicide?”

Liz and I nodded.

“It’s such a relief to know that,” he said. “I couldn’t believe he would do it. Murder is horrible, but not as bad as suicide.”

I asked, “Who do you think murdered your brother?”

He frowned. “I’m sure it was his partner.”

“Lamont?” Liz asked. “Not hardly.”

Jeff shrugged. “You asked me what I thought.”

“But
Lamont
? He’s your cousin. And he was also Gene’s best friend.” Liz sighed. “Plus, what could Lamont gain from killing Gene? They already split their business dealings. They had a big deal going on, but Lamont is handling that to help me out.”

“I don’t know about their business. I’ve never done business with either of them.” He shrugged. “It’s just that Gene said a few things about Lamont, expressed some concerns that he had, and I got a feeling that something wasn’t totally legit.”

“I work with people all the time, Jeff, but I don’t go around murdering them.” Liz was still cool. “Have the police interviewed you yet?”

He nodded. “I told them the truth. I got upset that night so I was driving in the canyons. I do it often. I stopped in at a little café in Heber and chatted with one of the waitresses there.”

“Well, that ought to be easy enough for the police to verify and take you off their list of suspects.”

“Yes,” he said to Liz, “but I don’t think
you
made it off yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was in the police station, I overheard one of the detectives say that the perp might well be the wife since she stood to inherit a great deal of money.”

~ ~ ~

While Jeff beat a hasty retreat, Liz and I stared at each other. Then, as one, we turned back to the box he had filled and intended to take with him.

There were a couple of newspapers stuffed inside, which he had wrapped around items.

I pulled out a small stereo system. “This looks expensive.”

“It’s what Gene wanted for his last birthday. A Bose stereo.” We stared at each other.

“Not something his mother would likely care about,” I said.

“It wouldn’t have any meaning for her.” She unwrapped a jewelry box and gasped. “This is my necklace! Gene paid a small fortune for it at Neiman Marcus. Jeff’s wife always admired it.”

“Why would Jeff be taking all these expensive things? Does he need money?”

“That’s what I heard,” a woman’s voice behind us made us jump. Liz juggled the expensive necklace before safely clutching it to her chest as we both turned to see who was in the house with us now.

A short, purple-haired lady in a flowered dress, with black between the flowers, stood there, her eyes inquisitive. I wondered if hers was the kind of inquiring mind that liked to read the tabloids.

“Agnes!” Liz gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you come in. And I saw Jeff leave. He looked very upset.” She continued to walk toward us, looking back and forth between us. She finally settled her eyes on my sister and pulled her into a hug. “I am so sorry about what happened to your husband, Liz.”

I narrowed my eyes as I studied my jeans and orange T-shirt compared to Liz’s jeans and green T-shirt. But then I realized the dark circles beneath Liz’s eyes probably gave her away, not our clothing.

She gave Liz a hug. “I wanted to make sure you were all right, honey.”

My heart did a polka against my ribs. If I kept this up, I wouldn’t make it to my twenty-eighth birthday.

Liz nodded and smiled politely, but I could see she was still ticked off at Jeff. “We’re fine. Thank you for checking.”

Then, as if remembering her manners, Liz turned to me. “Vicki, this is my neighbor, Agnes Gotschaub. Agnes, this is my twin sister, Vicki.”

Agnes, the nosy neighbor who had lived next to Gene and Liz for years, greeted me, then turned back to Liz. “So why was he so upset? Did you catch him trying to take another box of stuff out of here?”

Liz’s eyes widened. “He already took boxes out?”

“Just one other one about fifteen minutes ago. When he took the first one out, I called your cell phone number to tell you, but you didn’t answer. I was fixing to call the cops when I saw you drive up.”

I looked at her in amazement. “I didn’t notice you outside. How did you see everything?”

“I have binoculars, and I know how to use them,” Agnes said with an emphatic tip of her head. “From my upstairs bedroom window I can see all sorts of things.”

“Really?” I said.

“And you wouldn’t believe everything I saw on the day before your husband was shot.”

Liz and I exchanged glances. Did we want to know? It didn’t matter, because Agnes continued, a steamroller in a flowered dress. “First that young girl was here. The pregnant one.” She pursed her lips in disapproval. “I am sorry, Liz.”

“He brought her here?” Liz hissed. “To my house?”

“She wasn’t here long enough for anything to go on, if you know what I mean. And that’s the only time I saw her here.
That
happened somewhere else.”

Liz’s eyes brimmed with tears she blinked back furiously.

“And then, while the girl was still here, an old man drove up. I could hear him yelling at Gene on the porch. Then they shoved each other a few times, and the old man fell down. Then the young girl drove off with the old man.”

“Who was the old guy?” I asked, guessing he must be Herbert Norris, the retired postal worker. “And was he related to the girl?”

“I
see
everything, but I don’t know everyone. I hadn’t ever seen him before.” Agnes motioned with her hands in the shape of binoculars in front of her face. “But that wasn’t half of it. Then another man, a younger man, drove up and
he
had a yelling match with Gene, too. I opened my window, but it was on the porch, so I didn’t hear any of it.” She sounded disappointed. “And he punched Gene before he stormed off.”

“So that’s why Gene had a black eye,” Liz said sadly.

“And then a young kid, I think he said his name was Colt or Colton, or something like that, asked about the pregnant girl. And then
he
pushed Gene, and Gene went inside the house, and the kid stayed outside for a long time before he drove off.”

Amazed, I stared at my sister, who shook her head and said, “What was Gene mixed up in, anyway?”

“Nothing good,” Agnes said.

I was glad my sister had a nosy neighbor so Liz could learn what was going on.

I shook my head and echoed. “Nothing good.”

~ ~ ~

As soon as we walked into the crowd of lunch diners at the Moose Muffin Café, we spotted DeWayne, sitting by himself at a booth along the side wall. That was good, because every other booth and table were taken. Even the seats at the coveted Round Table were filled with denim jean and coverall-wearing, middle-aged and older men, most of them sporting ample bellies. They talked gravely amongst themselves and ate just as seriously.

Evelyn Deeds and Yolanda Butterfield were busy working their way between the tables, and taking turns at the cashier spot. I knew because I’d often worked with them. There should have been two more waitresses here at lunch time, but I didn’t see them yet. They must have been in the kitchen.

“Hey, DeWayne,” I called out and waved.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey, ladies.”

“Mind if we join you?” Liz asked as she slipped in next to DeWayne. He looked a little uncomfortable, which was a strange reaction for him when Liz was around.

After a delay, he said, “Sure.”

I sat down across from them and studied him. Something was up, but what?

Evelyn moved from her area and came over to our booth. “How are you ladies today?”

We told her we were fine and asked about her family. Then she asked, “What can I have Crystal bring you to drink?”

“Crystal?” I was surprised. “I thought she just worked evenings.”

Evelyn leaned in closer, batted her eyelashes dramatically at DeWayne, and said in a near whisper, “Oh, she switched her shifts. She knows what time ‘A Certain Somebody’ comes in.”

DeWayne’s face reddened and he nearly sputtered.

Liz glowered. “Is that so?”

The man
shrugged, trying—but failing—for nonchalance. “Evelyn’s got it wrong. Crystal is just a friend.”

“Just a friend.” I turned to Evelyn. “You know what’s funny? Robert and I were just friends for a long time and you know where it got us.”

“I know.” Evelyn straightened. “I’ve got to get back to work. You might have noticed how busy we are today.”