Chapter 5

As I passed the kitchen, the crime scene tape still crisscrossed the doorway. I shuddered and looked the other way. Tony was deeply focused on rearranging a few tables in the dining room on which to arrange the newly purchased continental breakfast items. When he started lifting item after item out of the large brown bags, I stepped beside him.

“Hey, Tony,” I said.

He jumped and dropped a bagel on the floor. “You scared me to death.” he said, scowling.

“Don’t worry. It’s not the killer. Just me and my sidekick here.” I nodded toward Aspen.

“I thought you were the ghost who probably killed Ivan,” he said. 

And there it was with the ghost joke I had expected. “That was lame,” I said with an eye roll. It was as if he’d heard my thoughts from a moment ago. “No ghost. Just me.”

I bent over to pick up the bagel. Aspen had barely sniffed it, then turned away from it.

“He’s not normal,” Tony said. “You know that, right? And do not even think about putting that on the plate,” he warned.

I narrowed my eyes and set it on a napkin, handing it to him. “Here. Just for you.” He took the napkin by the corners and tossed it into the trash can. I cocked my head to the side. “Tony, are you okay?”

He tucked in his chin and leveled his gaze on mine. “Sure, why?” I didn’t say anything, encouraging him to talk. He briefly glanced at me, then back to the table. “Because of Ivan?” 

“Well, yeah. It’s not like he called in sick. He’s dead.” He appeared to not hear a word I said. “Tony?”

He stopped and looked at me. “Andie Rose, I’m sorry the guy’s dead. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. But Ivan had a lot of enemies. He was a class one jerk.”

“Who didn’t like him?”

“Me, for one. But it doesn’t mean I killed the dude.”

“Who else?”

“I’m sure Jade’s husband wasn’t too fond of him, given the circumstances.”

My eyes opened wide. “Tom knew about Jade and Ivan?”

He looked at me as if I’d lost the last shred of sense I had. “No offense, but what rabbit hole have you been hiding in? Of course he knew. How could he not? It’s a small town. People talk.”

“Who else didn’t like Ivan?”

“Luka Molotov, for starters.” He went back to retrieving items from the bags.

My jaw dropped. “Deacon Luka Molotov? Roman’s dad? I hardly think he’d be capable of murder.” 

Tony continued without giving much of a reaction to my surprise. “Why, because he’s a deacon? Are they not human like the rest of us?”

“Well, yeah, but—well, I can’t see it. Luka Molotov seems like such a calm guy.”

“With a flash-bang temper.” He glanced at me before pulling a tub of butter from the bag. “I don’t know why I couldn’t go in the kitchen just to get the things we already have instead of buying all new.”

“Detective Griffin said forensics hasn’t been completed yet. It’s not like I could argue with that. Or that I’d want to.”

He shook his head. “Well, I guess it won’t go to waste.”

“What can you tell me about Luka Molotov’s temper?”

“Roman can tell you some stories. Things that have made him afraid of Luka.”

“How can he stay on as a deacon then? Why haven’t they asked him to step down?”

“It’s religion, Andie Rose. Who knows why they do anything they do? There are too many rules to count.”

“Not a fan of the Catholic church, eh?”

“Not just the Catholic church; people who call themselves Christians in general.” 

There were two churches in town, St. Michael’s Catholic Church and Spirit Vineyard Protestant Church. St. Michael’s held most of the town’s population in its membership, but most of both memberships believed in the ghost of Spirit Lake. My grandparents were die-hard Catholics, but even though my AA meetings were in the basement of St. Michael’s, I hadn’t declared the church my home.

Knowing the history of Christianity, I had nothing solid to hand Tony to change his mind. Nor was it my place to do so. I liked Tony just as he was. Again, I hoped the police would rule him out as a suspect in Ivan’s murder. With my help, maybe it would happen faster. When I said nothing further, he went on.

“If you asked the entire town, you’d probably come up with half of them who didn’t like Ivan. And now that includes Jade, too. I overheard them talking in the kitchen yesterday, and she was pretty torqued. She told him she might be pregnant, but it couldn’t be her husband’s because he’s sterile, and Ivan wanted nothing to do with a baby. He even went so far as to ask her if it was his, insinuating—well, you know the insinuation. I don’t have to spell it out for you.” 

I held my hand out. “Wait. If Jade’s husband is sterile, how can they have a child?”

He frowned. “Please tell me you don’t live such a sheltered life. She was pregnant when she met her husband. The father of the baby left her.” 

“I assume the guests know.” Tony said. “About the murder, not Jade’s drama.”

“Yes. After the police questioned them, and I assured them they were safe.”

His eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

“How do I know what?”

“That they’re safe. Someone killed Ivan last night in the kitchen. How do we know that someone isn’t still here? Maybe we should check the rooms—the one with the unbarricaded door is probably the killer.” I stared at him. “Because it means they’re not afraid,” he explained.

I nodded. “Oh. I can’t imagine any of the guests killed him. And the staff wasn’t here. That means the killer is probably someone else, and they’re not just gonna hang around, waiting for someone to discover them.”

“Unless it was the ghost,” he said, wiggling his thick black Italian eyebrows.

“Seriously?” I squinched my face.

“All I’m saying is that no one knows if it’s a friendly ghost.”

“Or if there is a ghost.” I shook my head. “And this is hardly the time to joke.”

Tony stopped what he was doing, and his eyes grew wide again in mock horror. “Don’t let anyone in Spirit Lake know you question the ghost. They’d hang you.”

I stared at him, at a loss for words. Finally I said, “Inappropriate much?” Yet, the Tony I knew was a good man, and I hoped it wasn’t him who killed Ivan. I enjoyed having him as part of the team. “So tell me about this spat between you and Ivan you mentioned on the phone. And how is your hangover, by the way?”

“Ibuprofen does wonders.”

“And the spat?”

He ripped off a sheet of plastic wrap and began wrapping the bagels and sweet breads. “The scum stole a recipe of mine. Entered it in a contest and won some serious money. Not only did he steal from me, but he didn’t even share the money the recipe won.”

“That must have made you so mad.” I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

He gave me the side-eye and said, “Yeah, but I wouldn’t kill over it if that’s what you’re getting at.” He forced a smile and winked. “We Italians are lovers, not fighters.” He looked around him. “Where did it happen, anyway?”

“In the far east corner of the kitchen.” I shuddered as I remembered Ivan’s lifeless body. Aspen looked up at me, then sniffed the air with all its breakfast smells—I nabbed a dog biscuit from my pocket and handed it to him, snickering when he only sniffed it. “Don’t be a snob, Aspen. You’re a dog. This is what dogs eat.” I turned my attention back to Tony. “What do you know about Jade’s husband?”

“Seems like an okay guy. But don’t they all? Some people only let you see what they want you to see. Chameleons.”

“That, Tony, is not you.” I smiled. “You tell it like it is.”

“That’s me. King of honesty.” He studied me as he folded a now-empty paper sack. “So, about the lead chef position. What’s up with that? You can’t seriously give it to someone else. I’ve earned that position fair and square. You know I’m good.”

I poked my tongue inside my cheek and squinted as I studied him.

“No,” he confirmed, “I didn’t want it so bad that I’d kill for it.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“I know what you were thinking.”

“Apparently not.” I smiled at him, but I still wasn’t a hundred percent convinced. “Tell you what, if you can take over and somehow carry both positions without killing yourself until I can get someone else in here to help you—”

“Help me,” he repeated. “Does that mean I’m not the lead, or I am the lead?”

“If everything goes well, then yes, you will be. Let’s move in that direction. I’ll get started today on filling the sous-chef position.” That would give me a bit of time until either the police or I catch the murderer. And hopefully to prove Tony’s innocence.

He smiled, satisfied. “But you’re able to cover me this afternoon, right? Ibuprofen only works so long. I’m pretty sure my head will split wide open by then.” 

I grimaced and shook my head. I didn’t miss that part of my drinking days. Not even a little. “Yes, I’ll cover this afternoon and can help as much as possible after that. I know my way around a kitchen. We don’t need you dying, too,” I mumbled. 

“Yeah, I know. And Ivan hated that. That you knew your way around his kitchen.”

“I’m aware. But so we’re straight, I will use the kitchen to make the dog biscuits and anything else I want to bake. I will not get in your way, will clean up after myself, and replace used items. You won’t even know I was there.”

He grinned. “I don’t care if you are in the kitchen.” He nodded toward Aspen, who sat beside me. “Just make sure there’s no dog hair anywhere. Meaning, keep him out.”

“Give me some credit. You know I don’t bring him into the kitchen with me.” I looked at Aspen, then cocked my head in defeat. “Well, except last night when we found Ivan. But hand to God,” I lifted a hand in the air, “I don’t bring him into the kitchen.”

Emotional support animals had become controversial since I’ve had Aspen. They aren’t allowed the same privileges as guide dogs and other support animals. While I don’t discount the importance of guide dogs, mental health is an illness, too, and it sticks in my craw that they aren’t considered as such.

Tony chuckled. “I know. I’m just teasing you.” 

“Good, because just so you know, if I wanted to, I would.”

Tony snickered. “No rebellion in you, no sir.”

I offered a bemused smile. “Call it what you will.”

I was still a little shocked by Ivan’s hostility toward Aspen in the pub last evening. I knew he didn’t like dogs, but didn’t know how strongly he felt about them. 

Aspen and I went to the front desk so I could look at the reservation book. Unless people heard about the murder and canceled because of it, we were booked solid well into January. I’d have to act fast. Getting my life coach business up and running here would have to be put on the back burner for now as I helped Tony in the kitchen whenever I could and conducted a search for a sous-chef. 

I made a list of people I could call for suggestions on temp replacements but would have to wait to make the calls until a decent hour. I checked in with Tony again, who assured me he had everything under control. Although, I was sure he’d be hitting a proverbial wall within a few hours. The shadows under his eyes looked as gray as the ash in the fire pit. 

With nothing left to do downstairs at the moment, I told Tony I’d be up in my room for an hour, but back down before Jade arrived. Aspen would not get his run this morning, and once he figured that out, he’d likely give me an attitude for a bit. While sleep was my fix, chasing bunnies and squirrels, and marking everything raised by an inch or more from the ground, was his. But his disappointment would pass. Animals were so much more forgiving than humans. That thought circled me back to Brad, and I wondered how forgiving he’d be when I told him no. Would he want to go on as usual, or will my “no” to his proposal be the end of us? Not that there was really an us anymore, anyway. I realized it was up to me to pull the plug. I thought about calling him and getting it over with, but decided to wait since he’d likely still be sleeping.

When I went past the library, the copy of The Woman in Black lay on the chair again. And, again, I re-shelved it but then pulled it back out. A guest might be reading it, leaving it here between reading sessions. 

Once inside my room, I lay face down on my bed. Except for kicking off my sneakers, I remained fully clothed. Aspen jumped up and curled in beside me. But he wasn’t as still as I’d hoped, probably dreaming of the squirrel that got away. Finally, I got up. If I didn’t have the energy to take him for a run around the lake, at the very least, I could take him for a walk in the woods. No shortage of rabbits and squirrels there. 

As we tromped through the fallen leaves on a trail that cut through the woods, daylight peeked through outstretched, partially bare limbs. Soon they would be naked, waiting for springtime clothing again. But now, in the dawn, they’d gone from looking beautiful to sinister, thanks to the state of my mind since Ivan’s murder and knowing the killer was out there somewhere. I desperately hoped the killer wasn’t out here in the woods, watching. I shivered and looked in every direction.

Satisfied we were alone, I thought about the potential suspects so far—Tony, Jade, Jade’s husband, and Luka Molotov. Good gracious, a deacon. Was there no safe place? I hoped more came to light during the investigation because I didn’t want any of them to be the killer. 

Twigs snapped in the distance ahead of us, and Aspen stood deathly still. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he was a pointer. My breath caught in my throat, and I kneeled beside him, my arm around his neck, and whispered, “How about we go back to the inn, my friend? I think you’ve seen enough wildlife for now.” As if he understood me, he turned quickly without argument, and we began our journey back. Thankfully the daylight was brighter by now. 

By the time we got back to the inn, there was only about half an hour before Jade arrived; Lily, the other front desk employee, would arrive three hours later. Lily usually worked the earlier shift, and Jade closed, but they switched schedules today so Jade could go to an appointment. I wondered if the appointment was about the baby. Selfishly, I wished they hadn’t switched shifts, because once Jade learned about Ivan, I wasn’t sure if she would have to go home without finishing hers. Not that I’d blame her, especially after the news.

I glanced at my watch. I had fifteen minutes to plan for Jade’s potential meltdown.