Seven

I was slightly amused that the woman who hadn’t wanted to room with Sky was now looking for her as though they were good friends. I introduced John to Nessie. “I’m sorry, but we haven’t seen Sky.”

“Honestly! Where did she get off to? My daughter has spent the evening with some guy. He’s too good-looking, if you ask me. You know what they say about a book and its cover. I once married a guy pretty enough to be on the cover of a romance novel, but the inside was a horror story.”

She eyed me. “Maybe you two could go sit near them and tell me what’s going on since Sky isn’t available?”

“I wish I could help,” I fibbed. I really did not want to spy on her daughter. “But I’m busy at the moment. We’re looking for Oma. There’s something important we have to tell her.”

Nessie’s eyebrows jumped. “An engagement?” She looked from me to John and back to me. “You sure make a pretty couple, but . . . already? You must have known each other before.”

Before I could protest, John winked at me.

“Nope. Cooper introduced us.” John pointed at his dog.

“You’re kidding me.” She gazed down at Lulu. “Can you find Mommy a nice man, sugar?”

Just to be sure she understood, I said, “There’s no engagement, but Cooper and Trixie like each other.”

Gingersnap and Trixie had sniffed their way to the pet hatch located in the door that led to Oma’s private kitchen. I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew where Oma was.

Excusing ourselves, we hustled away.

“Her poor daughter,” John whispered. “My mom set me up with a date once, but she never spied on me.”

“Did the date work out?”

“We went out for about six months before I had the guts to break up with her.”

I swung open the door to the large room that Oma had reserved for family use. “So it wasn’t just one dinner. Your mom did pretty well.”

He wrinkled his nose. “She was nice enough. But ultimately, I knew she wasn’t the right person for me.”

I could relate. “Sounds like Ben and me.”

Not a soul was in the kitchen. But I spied a corkscrew on the turquoise island. “I bet Oma is outside. It’s a beautiful night.”

I opened the back door. Oma and Macon sat at a table on the private patio overlooking Dogwood Lake. Lights on boats bobbed in the distance and the sounds of laugher drifted to us. The scents of basil and rosemary wafted from Oma’s herb garden. Candles flickered on the table near a wine bottle and two glasses.

I hadn’t expected Macon to be with Oma and wondered if I should mention Gustav in front of him. He would hear about it sooner or later, though, so maybe it was just as well that he was present.

I introduced John to Oma and Macon.

“Weren’t you two matched up through Live Love Bark?” Macon raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I thought that didn’t work out.”

“You were matched by Macon? Ja?” Oma’s voice brimmed with joy.

“Don’t get excited. Trixie likes John’s dog, Cooper,” I said as we joined them at the table.

“Gee, thanks. What about me?” John teased. “All things considered, I think we’ve been getting along pretty well.”

I guessed we had been. Not many people got to know each other by finding a corpse. “Oma, I’m afraid I have bad news. Gustav Vogel has been found.”

“Found? What do you mean found? Did he have a car accident?” asked Oma.

“He was murdered!” John exclaimed. “It was awful.”

“Who is Gustav Vogel?” asked Macon. “A friend of yours?”

I glanced at Oma, who appeared to be stunned by the news. “He had a reservation but never showed up.”

My Oma was a strong woman. She had run the inn by herself for decades. But the news about Gustav clearly shocked her. She sank back in her chair like she had been deflated.

I reached for her hand and clutched it. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, it cannot be. This is terrible. What happened?”

“Strangled.” John uttered the single word and shuddered. “I’ve never found a dead body before. It’s—”

“Unnerving?” Macon suggested.

“Unnerving doesn’t begin to cover it,” John said. “Unnerving times one thousand. I don’t know how the police and the paramedics do it. They must have nerves like steel. I didn’t even know the guy, but to be honest with you, I’m rattled to my core.”

“You found him?” asked Macon in a high pitch.

“Trixie did,” I said. At the mention of her name, she and Gingersnap came running and sat properly, looking at me expectantly. I fed an itsy-bitsy treat to each of the dogs.

Oma clasped a hand to her cheek. “I am shocked. You called Dave, ja?”

“Yes, of course.” I excused myself and fetched two wineglasses and another bottle of wine. Back at the table, I said, “Oma, do you remember the man on the plaza today? The one who said dogs can’t love people because they have brains the size of walnuts, and that cat owners are neurotic?”

“Ugh. That man. I wish I could forget him.”

“Oma, that was Gustav Vogel.” I handed John a glass of wine.

She frowned at me. “No. That is impossible.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Macon sputtered, “Well, no wonder somebody killed him. What kind of idiot goes around sayin’ stuff like that? Do they have a suspect yet?”

As Macon spoke, it dawned on me that Gustav had called Macon an old fraud. “Did you know him, Macon?”

“I seriously doubt it. I believe I’d have remembered someone with such a distinctive name. Not to mention someone with ridiculous notions about dogs and cats.”

If Macon did a lot of matchmaking for large groups, it was certainly possible that the singles who expected to be matched would remember Macon, but he might not remember all of them. Could Macon have made a poor match for Gustav that prompted his remark?

It would be rude to come right out and say he thought you were a fraud, so I chose my words carefully. “He seemed to know you.”

“Really? How very flatterin’. People all over the world have heard of me.”

While I suspected that was a vast exaggeration, there probably was some truth to what he said.

Oma gripped the edge of the table and rose to her feet. “I hope you will excuse me.”

She walked slowly to the door and entered the kitchen with Gingersnap on her heels while Macon said, “Of course, darlin’.”

“Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” I handed Huey’s leash to John and followed Oma.

Closing the door behind me, I called out, “Oma?”

She paused and looked back at me.

“There’s something else you should know. Maybe you should sit down?”

“Ach. It cannot be any worse.” But she perched on the edge of one of the chairs before the fireplace.

“Gustav had a letter from you in his pocket.”

She took that news very well. “This is not surprising. It probably contained directions to the inn.”

“Oma, did you know Gustav?”

She took a deep breath. “No. I never met him.”

“Except today on the plaza, when we spoke to him,” I corrected.

“But I did not know that was Gustav at the time.”

“Dave will probably be here tonight to ask you if you knew him.”

“I will be in my apartment.” Oma rose and walked slowly again, as though the bad news had sapped her strength.

Gingersnap sprang to her feet and walked beside her, anxiously looking up at Oma.

It wasn’t like Oma at all. I was sorry Gustav had died, too. And it was horrifying that someone had strangled him. But the news had drained Oma’s spirit. I watched her go, wondering if she was telling me the truth.

She stopped at the doorway, turned back to me, and said, “Something is not right.”