Scone Cold Dead (14 page)

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Authors: Kaitlyn Dunnett

BOOK: Scone Cold Dead
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Ten minutes later, Liss pulled in at the house the Ruskins were building. “I have another favor to ask,” Liss said as soon as Dan opened the passenger-side door.
“What? No ‘hello, Dan. That new house is really coming along'?” He slid inside and reached for the seat belt.
“Sorry.” She glanced at the building-in-progress through the windshield, but it didn't look like much to her.
“Never mind. What's the favor?”
“You don't have to help, you know. I can go on my own.”
“Just drive. What's the second favor?”
“Can you put a few people up at your place?” She explained about Rosemary's incoming guests. “I could probably squeeze more of them in at the motel, but this might be a good opportunity to . . . observe the, uh—”
“Suspects? Jeez, Liss, you just don't know how to let go, do you?”
“If you don't want—”
“I know! Fine. I've got room. You know that. How many and who?”
Dan's place had four bedrooms, if he counted the one in the attic. Liss had good reason to know. She'd grown up in that house. “I thought Stewart.” Dan rolled his eyes. “And Ray.”
“Why am I not surprised?” he muttered.
“And Cal.”
“Who's Cal?”
“Country dances are done by pairs. Cal was my partner for a couple of years and then he danced with Sarah and now he dances with Emily. And before you get any ideas, unlike Sandy, Cal
is
gay.”
Dan opened his mouth and shut it again without saying anything.
And that seemed to put paid to conversation for the rest of the drive to Fallstown. Liss made no effort at small talk and neither did Dan.
She drove first to Lakeside Cabins. The building that had been broken into was easy to spot . . . if she followed the twisting driveway until it dead-ended. Yellow crime scene tape made an X across the door.
That unit was the one farthest from the road, almost hidden by two big spruce trees. As Liss visited each of the other cabins to talk to the dancers, she realized that only Fiona's was close enough to see more than the roof of the cabin the killer had used, and Fiona's door faced away from it. Unless she'd been looking out a window, she wouldn't have seen a thing.
It didn't take Liss long to confirm what she'd already suspected would be the case. For two nights, the cabins had been fine, but no one really wanted to be stuck this far from civilization indefinitely.
“Pack up, then,” she told everyone. “I'll make arrangements to move you to the motel.”
Only to Fiona did she make a different offer, suggesting that the older woman stay in her aunt's apartment above the store. “No cat dander,” she promised.
“What a thoughtful suggestion, Liss. Thank you. I'd like that.”
“Good. Can you drive a few others up to Moosetookalook with you?”
Fiona frowned. “What others?”
“Well, that depends on who is willing to give up a motel room. I'll call you in an hour.” She started to leave, then turned back. “Fiona, you don't happen to know where Sarah Bartlett is, do you?”
Fiona looked startled. “No idea. Why do you ask?”
“Just a passing thought,” she lied. “Nothing important.”
At the motel she didn't have any trouble coaxing Ray or Stewart into moving to Dan's. Convincing Lee Annie to stay in the extra room at her house, however, was a bit more difficult. Liss had to admit that what she was offering was smaller, and that there wouldn't be much choice when it came to restaurants or shops.
“But it's free,” Liss reminded her. “Room
and
board.” She thought better of mentioning that she'd probably be the one cooking.
“Okay,” Liss said to Dan as they left Lee Annie to pack her things. “Drop me at the B-and-B and go get the five girls from the cabins to move them into these three rooms. Then you can take Stewart and Ray and Lee Annie to Moosetookalook in the station wagon and I'll follow in Fiona's car with the rest of our guests.” She pulled out her cell phone to let Fiona know what was going on.
Dan gave her a mocking salute but did as she asked. He even opened the passenger-side door before going around to take the wheel of her aunt's station wagon. He dropped her off at the B-and-B a few minutes later.
Everything now depended upon the cooperation of those currently staying at the Lonesome Stranger Bed-and-Breakfast. If even one of them balked, her scheme would fall apart.
Liss was a little leery of meeting Emily Townsend again, but the tall blonde who joined the others in the B&B's parlor a short time later seemed a different person from the one Liss had met at the reception. Shoulders slumped, face pale and bare of makeup, she regarded Liss through lackluster eyes.
“I'm sorry to have been so much trouble,” she whispered.
“It's been a trying time for all of us.” Liss resisted the urge to pat the other woman on the shoulder. Emily really did look pathetic.
“What's up, Liss?” Cal wanted to know. “Has something else happened?”
“I'm afraid you have to move out. Your rooms are needed, and since Fiona has committed the whole company to staying on for another few days, I've had to make new arrangements. Josie, are you okay with moving over to the motel and bunking with Denise?”
“Sure, Liss. We get on just fine.”
“Great. Cal, you'll be staying with a friend of mine. He has a house in Moosetookalook.”
“Is he good looking?”
She stuck her tongue out at him and almost said “He's taken.” She stopped herself just in time. She'd have to think about their future as a couple sometime, but not now. Later.
Much
later.
“Stewart and Ray are staying there, too.”
“Oh, joy. Oh, rapture.”
“Go pack!”
Cal offered Josie his arm and they went upstairs together. Liss turned to Emily and Winona. “I thought, since you two preferred these accommodations to the motel, that you might be more comfortable in an apartment than at the motel. My aunt is away right now, so you'll be staying at her place.”
“That's very considerate of you,” Winona said. “I do get tired of motel rooms.”
“Emily?”
The blonde gave a listless shrug. “Whatever.”
“Well, that's settled, then,” Liss said brightly. “All we need to do is ferry everyone to their new digs.” Once again she dug the cell phone out of her purse to call Fiona.
So far, so good, she thought when she disconnected. Now all she had to do was figure out which one of the people she was transporting to Moosetookalook had killed Victor Owens.
Chapter Nine
S
tewart Graham had apparently been intoxicated when he'd agreed to leave Fallstown because now he was on the verge of a panic attack at the thought of staying in a village that didn't have a bar. Dan got him calmed down by assuring him that he could buy beer at either the convenience store or the supermarket and pointing the way to the latter. Odds were he'd spend his entire stint in Moosetookalook in an alcoholic haze. Dan couldn't decide which was going to prove harder to put up with over the next few days, Stewart's drinking or the fact that Ray Adams was a die-hard Yankees fan.
“Can't you talk about something else?” Dan finally asked. “I really don't want to have to punch out your lights.”
“Like you could.” Ray had made himself comfortable in Dan's living room and was happily surfing through the sports channels.
“We could talk about women instead.” He moved a stack of woodworking magazines off a chair and sat down. “You could tell me about Sarah.”
Ray's face purpled. His hands curled into fists. For a moment Dan thought the other man was about to come up off the sofa and pound him into the floor. Dan tensed, ready to defend himself.
“You should leave Sarah out of this.” Ray's deep, nasal voice sounded even more raspy than usual.
“Whoa! No offense meant. I just heard you were friends with her, that's all. I wondered if you knew where she went when she left the company. Liss wants to get hold of her.”
“I should be so lucky.”
The sheer anguish on Ray's face convinced Dan that he was telling the truth. “Probably just as well.”
Ray's eyes narrowed at the comment. He hit the mute button on the clicker. “What's it to you, Ruskin?”
Dan shrugged. “I expect you've already figured that out. Liss is trying to discover who killed Victor.”
“What is she, nuts? Sarah wouldn't—”
“Sarah's just one possibility. She's probably in the clear.” Before taking Sandy and Zara over to the Emporium, Liss had called around to every place in the area that rented rooms. No Sarah Bartlett had been registered at any of them, but that might not mean much. Sarah could have used a phony name.
“Sarah wasn't at the reception, y'know?”
“No, but you were.”
“So, tell—how did we do it, already?” Anger had morphed into sarcasm.
“Think about it the way a suspicious cop would, Ray. You've got an alibi for the time when the scones must have been baked, but Sarah could have baked them. Then she lies low while you slip them onto the refreshment table for Victor to eat.”
Abruptly, Ray started to laugh. “You call that a plan? You
are
nuts!”
“Hey, not my theory.” Dan held up both hands, palms out. He had to like the guy. Ray said what he thought.
“So, you want me out of your house? I wouldn't want you should have to harbor a murderer.”
“Hell, most of the people Liss invited to stay in Moosetookalook are suspects. I'm more concerned about having to put up with the constant yammering about the damn Yankees.”
“Only team worth rooting for since dem bums left Brooklyn.”
Dan knew enough about baseball history to recognize the reference to the abrupt departure of the Dodgers from that New York City borough in the late 1950s. “You think so? Then how come so many former Brooklyn fans now root for the Red Sox?”
“Gluttons for punishment?”
“Not hardly. Okay, Ray. Level with me. You got a
reason
Liss shouldn't suspect Sarah?”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
“Because you could be stuck in Moosetookalook for a long time unless someone gets arrested for Victor's murder.”
“Stupid name for a town,” Ray grumbled. “All right, already. We talk about this once, then that's it.”
At Dan's nod of agreement, Ray drew in a deep breath. His hands went into motion at the same time he began to speak, at times gesturing so widely that Dan feared for his lamps.
“Okay. No argument. I blamed Victor when Sarah left. I'd have liked to wring his neck, y'know? But I figured it would hurt him more to lose his job, so me and Stewart and Sandy, we were working on that.”
“Why didn't Sarah file a sexual harassment complaint?”
“You think I know? She changed her mind. Probably would have cost an arm and a leg to take the case to court.”
“So she just left?”
“Yeah.”
“I heard you two were . . . close. You're telling me she took off without a word?”
“All but. What? You're surprised? I'm forty-five years old. Big schnozz. Ugly puss. Going gray. I never had a chance with Sarah.” He was starting to get choked up. “Beautiful girl. Redhead, y'know? Young. Graceful. Friendly with everyone, even a guy like me. I should be so lucky as to have her for a friend. I was damned grateful for any crumb she threw my way.”
 
 
After her previous shift's lively ending—about which Sherri was still getting grief from her fellow law enforcement officers—she was just as happy when Tuesday turned out to be a completely boring day. At three, she showered and changed in the locker room before heading home, and when she left the jail she was thinking about her son and looking forward to having some quality time with him. That prospect took a nosedive when she spotted Gordon Tandy leaning against the hood of her pickup.
“Got a minute?”
“Just about.”
“I won't keep you long.”
Sherri caught herself wishing it was still as cold as it had been the last few days, but the afternoon sun was warm—almost balmy for March—and it was no hardship to stand outside and talk.
“You know Liss MacCrimmon pretty well?”
“We've seen a lot of each other since she came back to Moosetookalook. We're both from there originally and I was already working part-time in her aunt's shop when she returned.”
“What brought her back?”
Sherri was surprised he didn't already know. Then again, maybe he did. Detectives tended to ask questions to which they already had the answers. It helped weed out the lies.
“She injured her knee so badly that she couldn't dance anymore. That pretty much ended her career with
Strathspey
, although now some of the dancers are urging her to consider coming back as manager.”
There was a slight but perceptible stiffening of Gordon Tandy's shoulders. “Think she'll take the job?”
“She might. She hasn't said much lately, but I know she really liked the life. They call dancers Gypsies for a reason, I guess.”
After a short silence, during which Gordon seemed to be engaging in an internal debate, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a notebook. “You went to the performance with Liss, right?”
Sherri nodded.
“What time did you meet?”
Interesting
, Sherri thought. Had he only just realized that Liss was a possible suspect? “We met at the theater and were together through the performance and at the reception.”
“Can you verify where she was before that?”
“I can
tell
you where she was. She worked all day in the shop, and believe me, the neighbors would have noticed if she closed the Emporium long enough to make an earlier run to Fallstown.”
“There's an apartment above the store, right? With a kitchen?”
Sherri didn't bother to hide her smile. “If you're thinking Liss baked those mushroom scones, you can forget it. First of all, when Pete and I met up with her at the theater, she didn't have anything on her but an evening bag—much too small to hide baked goods in. But more important—and I have firsthand experience to back this up—Liss MacCrimmon is not a very good cook. She definitely has not mastered the art of making decent scones. Any cocktail scone she baked would have been way too heavy to lift in one hand. Don't forget, I bit into one of the mushroom scones. It tasted terrible, but the pastry was light and flaky, just the way a scone is supposed to be. Liss couldn't have managed that if her life depended on it.”
 
 
Liss arrived back in Moosetookalook late in the afternoon with Fiona, Emily, Winona, and Cal. To her surprise, Zara had abandoned her temporary job at the Emporium. She and young Beth Hogencamp were across the street in the town square making angels in the snow.
“Go on in.” Liss could see Sandy through the shop window. “Sandy can show you where the stairs to the apartment are and you can start moving your stuff in. Cal, I'll be along in a minute to take you to the house where you'll be staying.”
As soon as they'd entered the Emporium, she crossed Pine Street. Beth's musical laughter made her smile as she got closer. She could remember making angels in the snow when she was nine.
Zara sprang up, looking guilty. “It's okay. Sandy's minding the store.”
“No, it's not okay.” Liss grinned at her, then flopped over backward onto the ground.
The wet snow was a shock. It was far from the ideal consistency for making snow angels, but Beth was beside her, giggling, so she made the best of it. Moving cautiously in what was precariously close to slush, she made angel wings with her arms and shifted her legs to form the angel's long robe.

Now
it's okay,” she told Zara.
Except for the fact that the back of her coat, the seat of her jeans, and her hair were all soaking wet!
Zara gave her a hand up, then pulled Beth to her feet. Moving to the accompaniment of a steady
squish, squish
, they collected more suitcases from Fiona's rental car before trooping inside. The three women had already gone up to Margaret Boyd's apartment, but Cal was in the shop with Sandy.
“Interesting performance,” he said. “You look a little damp.”
Liss shed her coat and reached behind the sales counter for a roll of paper towels to blot her hair. “A slight miscalculation. For the best snow angels, just the right kind of snow is necessary—different from snowball snow or snowman snow or even snow-fort snow.”
“And today you did not have it.”
“Sadly, no.” She started to pass off the paper towels to Beth and Zara and realized that the entire roll wouldn't be adequate. “Come on upstairs,” she told them. “This is a job for terry cloth.”
The living space in Margaret Boyd's apartment was limited, but there were two bedrooms, one with twin beds. Emily and Winona had already settled into that one, leaving Fiona on her own in the other. Liss delivered the remaining luggage to its owners, detoured to the linen closet for towels, and returned to the living room, where she'd left Zara and Beth.
“I didn't forget another lesson, did I?” she asked Beth as she helped dry the girl's dark curls.
“I came over because I saw Zara through the window when I got home from school.”
“She had excellent timing. I needed a break. I don't think I'm cut out to be a shopkeeper. Don't get me wrong. It's a great store. But being a salesclerk is pretty boring. I mean, you're not exactly swamped with walk-in customers.”
“Tell me about it.” Liss sighed. These days the mail order and Web site business was responsible for most of the profit. If her aunt hadn't been so against the idea, Liss would have reluctantly considered closing the brick and mortar store and using the space for storage.
The towel now wrapped around her head, her water-resistant ski parka hanging over a heating vent, Beth began to explore the living room. As was her habit, she picked up every object that caught her interest—framed pictures, knickknacks, even the book on hotel management Liss's aunt had left lying on an end table. After closer examination, she returned each to the general vicinity in which she'd found it. Beth continued her inspection of Aunt Margaret's possessions even after Fiona and Winona came in from the bedrooms.
“Emily's lying down,” Winona said. “She still hasn't entirely recovered.”
“Whatever possessed her to take someone else's medicine?” Liss couldn't imagine anyone being so foolish.
“She was distraught. And Victor apparently told her those pills calmed him down.” Fiona lowered her voice. “To tell you the truth, I don't think the girl's too bright.”
“She couldn't be if she hooked up with—” Winona broke off as she belatedly realized that Zara, too, had once been romantically involved with the company manager. “Sorry.”
“Don't worry about it, but I don't think this is a suitable topic in the present company.” Zara added the last in a whisper, her gaze shifting pointedly to Beth.
“Perhaps the child should leave,” Fiona hissed back.
Beth froze with her hand on a hand-carved wooden piper Margaret Boyd had brought back from a trip to Nova Scotia.
“Well,” said Liss, a bit too heartily, “Zara and Beth and I will just leave you ladies to settle in. I need to take Cal over to Dan's house and Zara has to help Sandy close the shop. We're all going to Dan's for supper—no cat dander there, Fiona.”
“Excellent. And no children, either, I presume?”
Beth had already begun to inch toward the door. Now her face flamed and she bolted. Zara went after her.
“Was that really necessary?” Liss demanded.
Fiona shrugged. “Sorry. The kid was just starting to bug me, that's all.” She lifted one hand to her forehead. “I've got a bit of a headache. You'll have to excuse me if I'm out of sorts. It's been a rough few days.”
“For all of us.” Liss forced a smile, but she hadn't entirely forgiven Fiona for hurting Beth's feelings. “I'll see you in an hour or so. It's the middle house on the right-hand side of the square.”

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