Chapter Fifteen
Sam was talking about booking a sleigh ride on the way back to the inn. I was all in favor. But as we entered the lobby, Evelyn stepped out of her office.
She looked at Sam and said, “Do you mind if I borrow your wife for a few minutes?”
He glanced my way. Sam knew better than to speak for me, just as I wouldn’t have spoken for him. I nodded and handed him Faith’s leash.
“I’ll be along soon,” I said.
Sam and Faith hadn’t even reached the staircase before Evelyn ushered me into her office. She shut the door behind us. Today, a fire was burning in the small hearth. The room felt close and stuffy.
“You were supposed to be keeping me apprised of what you’d learned,” she said without preamble.
Evelyn’s tone was anxious and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. She probably hadn’t slept well last night. Belinda’s death was weighing on her. She had to be concerned for the welfare of her inn.
“It’s barely been twenty-four hours since we spoke,” I pointed out.
“Yet you found the time to go into town and talk to Sheriff Finley.” She walked around behind her desk and sat down. “You must have learned something. Something that you should have reported to me.”
That wasn’t exactly the way I remembered our previous conversation. And how did she know I’d been to see the sheriff? Evelyn’s assertive approach was beginning to grate on my nerves. Still, there was one piece of information I could pass along. She would know soon enough anyway.
“Belinda didn’t die of exposure,” I said. “She overdosed on oxycodone.”
Evelyn’s eyes widened. She lifted a hand and pressed it to the base of her throat. The blood drained from her face. “Are you sure about that?”
I nodded. “Sheriff Finley had just received the report.”
“Belinda was an addict?” Her voice quavered. “I would never have guessed. Obviously I wouldn’t have hired her if I’d even suspected she had a drug problem. This is shocking news.”
“I agree.”
“I know these things happen. But I never expected opioid abuse to impact me personally.” Then Evelyn sat up and stiffened her shoulders. “At least now we know her death was an accident, and that it had nothing to do with the inn. I suppose that’s a small amount of comfort that can be derived from this terrible situation.”
I remained silent as Evelyn continued to process the news.
After a few seconds, she glanced up. “Did the sheriff tell you where Belinda had gotten the drugs from?”
“I doubt that she knows. She seemed surprised by the results of the postmortem too.”
Her question reminded me of something. The missing items that should have been in Belinda’s room—items that might provide the answers we sought. If the overdose had truly been an unforeseen accident, however, how and when had Belinda’s phone, purse, and laptop disappeared?
That thought was quickly followed by another. Not only were her things still missing, but there were a limited number of people who had access to Belinda’s locked room—and I was standing across from one of them.
“What else?” Evelyn asked.
I’d intended to show Evelyn my copy of Belinda’s list to see what she made of it. But now, suddenly, I wasn’t sure how much more I wanted to tell her. Not until I’d had some time to think about the suspicions that were beginning to form in my mind.
“I know that can’t be all you’ve learned,” Evelyn prodded.
I cast around for another tidbit of information that might placate her. “There was one other thing. I heard that Belinda had been paying an unusual amount of attention to some of the recent guests. Do you think that could be something important?”
“I don’t know,” Evelyn considered. “Did you tell Sheriff Finley about that?”
“No, of course not.” For the time being I wanted to remain firmly on Evelyn’s side. “That was inn business. Nothing for the sheriff to be concerned about.”
“Quite right,” she agreed.
* * *
I knew that Sam and Faith were waiting for me up in our room. But now, when things were finally starting to make sense, there was somewhere else I had to be. I needed to talk to Belinda’s best friend.
I sped down the stairs to the lower level. The bingo session must have already ended. Once again, the activities room was being rearranged. It looked as though there might be another movie later.
I walked around the corner to Jill’s office. She’d left her door open, maybe hoping to draw some warm air from the hallway into the room. Jill was seated at her desk, a laptop open in front of her. She looked up as I paused in the doorway.
“Do you have a minute?” I asked.
“Sure. Come on in. Close the door at your own risk.”
Since I hadn’t been back to my room yet, I still had on the jacket I’d worn for my visit to Steepleton. “Can you deal with the cold for a few minutes? I’d rather speak in private.”
Jill nodded. She closed her computer as I shut the door. “You have me intrigued. I assume this is about Belinda?”
“I have some further information about her death.”
“Okay.” Jill closed her eyes as if she was steeling herself to deal with it.
“Belinda died of a drug overdose.”
“Drug?” Her eyes snapped open. “What kind of drug?”
“Oxycodone.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” I said. “It was found in the postmortem. Evelyn said she had no idea Belinda was an addict.”
“Evelyn’s wrong,” Jill replied firmly. “Bel wasn’t an addict. I’d have known.”
I sat down in the chair opposite her. “As I’m sure you’re aware, people who are dependent on drugs can be pretty crafty about hiding their habit.”
“Not Belinda.” Jill frowned. “She wouldn’t have anything to do with drugs, especially not that one.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Belinda and I were friends. We lived practically on top of each other. We’d talked about our families. Bel dated a boy who played football when she was in high school. They were serious about each other.” She huffed out a small laugh. “Well, as serious as things ever get in high school. He was her first. You know?”
I nodded.
“Senior year, he got injured and needed surgery. His recovery didn’t go well—he was in too big a hurry to get back on the football field. Bel said he was in a lot of pain.”
I could guess what happened next. “His doctor gave him oxycodone.”
“He did,” Jill said. “Back then it was the go-to prescription in cases like that. No one was worrying nearly as much as they should have been about getting addicted.”
I sighed. “Is that what happened to him?”
“It was worse than that. The guy who was Bel’s first love got addicted, then he got sober. Then he got addicted again—and committed suicide.”
“Damn.” I exhaled.
“Bel would never have touched drugs after that. I’m absolutely certain of it. If she overdosed on oxy, someone else must have given it to her.”
* * *
Since I was on the inn’s lower level, the spa was right around the corner. My copy of Belinda’s list felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. I still didn’t know why the dates she’d written down were significant. The letters that followed them were equally baffling.
But after I’d left Sheriff Finley’s office, something had occurred to me. Two of the letters—C and H—appeared twice on the list. When I’d spoken with Catelyn she’d told me that Belinda liked older guys. She’d pointed me in the direction of Cliff and Harley. C and H.
Maybe that was just a coincidence. But right now, it was the closest thing I had to a workable theory. Which meant that I needed to know who J was.
I stopped in at the spa and asked if Catelyn was available.
A chirpy receptionist consulted her daily roster. “Catelyn’s out on her break. She’s due back in ten minutes, but she’s already scheduled for a massage. I can fit you in with someone else though. All of our technicians are great.”
“Maybe you could tell me where to find Catelyn? I just want to have a quick word with her.”
“I’m really not supposed to . . .”
My wallet was in my jacket pocket. I pulled out a ten-dollar bill and slid it across the counter.
The receptionist eyed the money. Scruples warred with avarice. It was a brief skirmish. The bill disappeared into the pocket of her smock.
“There’s a door at the end of the hallway that leads outside,” she said. “Catelyn likes to go out and vape every now and then. You might find her there.”
When I opened the door, Catelyn was already heading back inside. A three-quarter length peacoat was buttoned up over her smock, and she had a yellow and blue striped scarf around her neck. She stopped and smiled when she saw me. “Ms. Travis, right?”
“Melanie, please. That was a great massage you gave me.”
Her smiled widened. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’d be happy to schedule you for another if you like.”
“Actually I have something else in mind.” Gently I steered her away from the doorway. There were plenty of people outdoors behind the inn, but none of them were close enough to overhear our conversation. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Umm, okay.” Catelyn stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat. “But I’m due back inside in a few minutes and I don’t want to be late.”
“I’ll be quick. Do you remember telling me that Belinda was interested in two guys here at the inn, Cliff and Harley?”
She issued a cautious nod.
“Did she ever mention someone to you whose name begins with J?”
Catelyn screwed up her face as she considered. “I don’t think so.”
“Is there anyone who works here whose name begins with J?”
This was apparently an easier question. It didn’t require nearly so much thought.
“There used to be a guy,” Catelyn said. “Jason North. He worked on the grounds crew with Harley. I can’t imagine why Belinda would have been interested in him, though. He was a bit of a creep. None of the women who work here were sorry when he left.”
“Where did he go?” I asked.
Catelyn shrugged. It didn’t matter to her. “One day he was hanging around and the next he’d disappeared. Good riddance.”
“One more thing,” I said quickly. Catelyn was already turning to go. “You told me that Belinda had her eye on Cliff, but he didn’t return her interest. Why did you think he wasn’t interested?”
She looked at me as though I’d asked a dumb question. “Because it’s true. Cliff is sleeping with the boss. There was no way he’d have given her up for mousey little Belinda.”
“The boss.” I gulped. “You mean Evelyn?”
Catelyn nodded, and then she was gone.
* * *
Dinner that night was a sumptuous affair. Though Valentine’s Day wasn’t until Sunday, guests at the inn—many of whom would be heading home the following afternoon—were celebrating a day early. We feasted on poached oysters, filet mignon, and mini red velvet cakes shaped like hearts. Champagne flowed like water. After dinner, there would be a sweethearts dance in the ballroom, which had been cleared for the occasion.
“You were preoccupied during dinner,” Sam mentioned.
He and I had just come back from walking Faith. Now we were supposed to be getting ready to go downstairs for the dance. Instead, Sam and I were relaxing on the love seat in our room. I’d already had a busy day. The prospect of an equally lively night didn’t seem that appealing.
“I just have a lot on my mind,” I said. “I’ve spent the day trying to figure everything out and I’m not sure I have it right. But if I do, I don’t know what my next step should be. So it feels like my brain is going around in circles.”
“It sounds as though a bustling ballroom is the last place you need to be right now.”
“Do you mind?” I looked up at him.
“Skipping a dance?” Sam chuckled. “Not in the slightest. I think I have a better idea.”
I didn’t know what he had in mind, but I was all in favor of Sam’s good ideas. He’d never steered me wrong yet.
“Let’s do it,” I said.
Next thing I knew we were heading outside. In the dark. And the snow. Faith was tucked away safely in our room, and Sam was holding my hand. He must have planned ahead because he had two pairs of ice skates slung over his shoulder.
This would be interesting. The last time I’d been on skates, my age had been in single digits.
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to ice-skate,” I said.
“I didn’t say I couldn’t skate, only that I didn’t want to join that wild melee after lunch.” Sam’s fingers squeezed mine. His grasp was warm and reassuring. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you to myself and now I intend to make the most of it.”
Back in the ballroom, the band would be tuning their instruments. Women in silk dresses and high heels would be strolling around the crowded room with their partners. They’d be sipping their drinks and waiting for the music to start.
Out here in the moonlight, Sam and I had the starry sky and the skating pond all to ourselves. This was so so much better.
It only took us a few minutes to exchange our boots for skates. My feet started to slide out from under me as soon as I stepped onto the ice, but Sam reached out and caught me handily.
“Trust me,” he said. “Let’s do this together.”
The moon was hardly more than a sliver in the sky, but when Sam put his arm around me, I felt as though I was lit from within. Together, we glided a circle around the perimeter of the ice. With Sam there to guide me, keeping my balance was easy. The skating felt effortless.
“You don’t just know how to do this”—I gazed up at him—”you’re good at it. How did I not know that about you?”
“A man’s entitled to a few secrets.”
“Sure.” I laughed. “But not useful ones. There are zillions of frozen ponds in Connecticut. We could have been skating like this for years.”
Sam’s head lowered. His lips brushed the top of my head. “Or we could just concentrate on tonight.”
I managed to execute a quarter-turn on my skates that sent me straight into his arms. Sam gathered me in with ease. My cheeks were pink with the cold, but the rest of my body was heating up nicely.
“That sounds perfect to me,” I said.