CHAPTER 5
Spavoneggiearsi.
“Answer me! Is this the way you welcome the guest of honor?”
Her icy blue eyes traveled from one end of the room to the other so it was difficult to determine which person she was threatening with her question. It could have been Cathy, the owner of the lodge, or Charlie, the photographer, who should have been memorializing her entrance on film, or it could have been anyone else sitting at the table staring at her. As a result, Pamela’s nonspecific, but definitely nonfriendly, query produced a hodgepodge of reactions among the guests.
Jinx and Freddy looked as if they were back in grammar school being scolded by a stern nun yielding a not-so-innocent-looking ruler. Vinny, Charlie, and even Father Sal looked like not-so-innocent teenagers who just got caught gawking at a girlie magazine, while Sloan and Joyce appeared to be amused by Pamela’s not-so-innocent-sounding accusation. The remaining people in the room—Alberta, Helen, and Cathy—did not appear to be afraid, mesmerized, or entertained by Pamela’s entrance. On the contrary, they seemed to be judging the woman based on the few words she had spoken. And from the looks of the steely glares and brassy sneers on the three women, the judgment was not in Pamela’s favor.
Until last week, Alberta hadn’t recognized this woman’s name, but with only one look she knew in her gut that Pamela enjoyed being a walking cyclone causing confusion and disruption with every step she took. Alberta had met women like this before, some were even members of her family, so even though she knew very few facts about Pamela Gregory, she knew that Pamela was a woman who enjoyed every second in the spotlight even if that spotlight highlighted her not-so-innocent traits.
“Spavoneggiearsi,” Alberta muttered.
She hadn’t meant for anyone else to hear her one-word whispered commentary, but Helen did. And she agreed with what she heard.
“You got that right, sister,” Helen whispered back. “This peacock loves to strut her stuff.”
The trouble with peacocks is that while their ostentatious display can be beautiful, it can also be distracting. Even the most savvy viewers, who should recognize when they’re being manipulated by a pretty image, get hoodwinked. They’re so spellbound by the plumage, or in this case fur, that they can’t see the ugly truth that lies beneath. Even if you’re a seasoned cop who’s seen a lot of ugliness.
“You must be Pamela Gregory!”
Vinny was grinning from ear to ear like a schoolboy who has found himself in the presence of his crush instead of staring at her image on his bedroom wall. The sight conflicted Alberta. A lot of tragedy had unfolded in Tranquility this past year so it was wonderful to see her old friend smile again. But on the other hand, Alberta knew that it wouldn’t take much for Pamela to wipe that smile from Vinny’s face.
“Of course I’m Pamela Gregory!” she snapped as a reply. “Do I look like Sonja Henie?”
Even though Pamela meant her words to be insulting, Vinny was so thrilled to see her in the flesh and not on his TV screen that he interpreted her comment as a joke. So much for his well-honed detective skills or for that matter Alberta’s need to worry, Vinny wasn’t going to let Pamela ruin his party.
He turned to Charlie and then Father Sal and said, “Sonja Henie! That’s a good one.” And the three of them burst into raucous laughter.
While Sloan and Freddy didn’t join in the hilarity, they were grinning, and Alberta understood the reason all the men at the table were sporting goofy expressions—Pamela Gregory was, without a doubt, a beautiful woman.
Blonde and blue-eyed, she looked every inch the Ice Princess even if her princess days were long gone. Her pale complexion was smooth and mostly unwrinkled except for a few crow’s feet around her eyes. It didn’t appear that she benefitted from plastic surgery or Botox, but if she had undergone some medical procedures or chemical enhancements, the work was masterful and had left behind no visual clue that Pamela’s natural canvas had been altered. Whatever method Pamela adopted to fight against the ravages of time—through scientific intervention, a healthy lifestyle, or just plain luck—the woman was winning the battle.
Standing at about five foot six, Pamela was on the tall side for a figure skater, and despite her age her body was still perfectly proportioned. Once an athlete, always an athlete, Alberta assumed.
The caramel-colored turtleneck was formfitting and showed off her slender neck and firm breasts. Alberta wondered if the image she was seeing had some extra help and if Pamela was wearing a sports bra like the kind that she recently started wearing for her early morning jogs with Jinx. If not, she silently commented, gravity had been very kind to Ms. Gregory.
Broad shoulders tapered down to a trim waist that sat on top of lean, well-defined legs that were on full display thanks to the black leggings she was wearing. Her pants were tucked into black ankle boots with a small but thick heel that didn’t make her stance look clunky but rather powerful. And matched perfectly with the sound of her voice.
“Is someone going to help me with my luggage?” Pamela barked. “Or do I have to drag it in here by myself?”
For all of Pamela’s patrician, austere looks and her fancy upscale wardrobe, underneath it all lurked the soul of a Jersey girl. A woman who spoke her mind and didn’t apologize if her words made anyone uncomfortable. Despite that, Alberta didn’t feel a connection to this woman, and even though Pamela was the guest of honor, Alberta didn’t feel she was worthy of celebration.
“Of course,” Cathy said. “I can get someone to help.”
When Cathy spoke, Pamela’s head whipped to the right where Cathy was standing and it was like a deep freeze had penetrated every nook and cranny of the lodge. The women locked eyes and although they wore matching smiles, there didn’t seem to be an ounce of friendliness emanating between them.
Alberta glanced over at Jinx to make sure she caught the exchange, and by the way Jinx’s eyes were bulging and moving from one woman to the other it was clear that she was thinking the same thing. Neither Alberta nor Jinx knew if these two women knew each other, but it was obvious to them that Pamela and Cathy didn’t like each other. Whether that decision had been made on sight or was based on experience, they’d have to investigate further.
Neither Alberta nor Jinx thought Pamela and Cathy were truly going to engage in a full-on death match, but the way they were staring at each other, they were definitely eyeing their competition.
Until a new competitor arrived on the scene.
“It’s about time you showed up.”
“Sorry, Miss Gregory, the bags are, you know, kinda heavy.”
The woman standing next to Pamela was her polar opposite. She was also her assistant.
“This,” Pamela said derisively, “is my assistant, Stephanie.”
Stephanie looked nothing like Pamela. She was wearing a navy blue parka that came to just below her knees with a hood trimmed in dirty-white imitation fur. She wasn’t wearing the hood, but rather a red and white knit hat with a white pompom on top that dangled weakly to the left as well as thin green knit gloves. Her appearance was colorful, but nowhere near as sophisticated or glamorous as Pamela’s.
Large tortoiseshell-framed glasses covered much of her face so it was hard to tell what she looked like other than that she had long brown hair and brown eyes. At five foot two she was literally standing in Pamela’s shadow so her specific characteristics and facial features would have to wait to be discovered. One revelation, however, was about to be exposed.
Plopping the two brown leather satchels on the floor, Stephanie raised a hand and waved to the group. “Rangusso,” she said. “I’m Stephanie Rangusso, Miss Gregory’s assistant.”
At least she’s Italian, Alberta thought.
“For now,” Pamela added. “If you want to keep your job there are some more bags in the car.”
The women were shocked to see Stephanie actually bow a little in response to Pamela’s statement; some of the men, however, only saw an opportunity to impress the queen.
“I can help.”
Vinny, Charlie, and Father Sal pushed their way to the front of the group eager to act as Pamela’s bellhop, but Cathy proved that she really was a woman in charge and took control.
“No need for anyone to do that,” Cathy announced, her voice sounding clear and commanding. “Icicle Lodge wouldn’t leave any guest out in the cold, especially the guest of honor.”
She tapped a bell on the front desk and the high-pitched sound filled the room. Immediately a man came out from the office, surveyed the area, and settled upon Pamela in the doorway. Alberta recognized the man from earlier in the day when they had arrived to be one of the lodge employees. Which explained why he was looking at Pamela not in awe or admiration, but in a workmanlike manner. She meant nothing to him except that she represented another task—getting her luggage.
“Patrick can see that all your things are brought up to your room,” Cathy said.
“Well, I trust Patrick will be careful,” Pamela replied. “Because my things are expensive.”
Suddenly Patrick’s expression changed from stony to smiling. “Of course, ma’am, your bags are in good hands.”
And large hands to boot. As Patrick walked by Alberta she noticed that he was even taller and wider than she had originally thought. Well over six feet, so he was about the same height as Vinny, maybe even an inch taller, but considerably more muscular and his hands looked massive. They reminded her of Uncle Louis’s hands without the unfortunate rose tattoo Louis got on the back of his right hand when he was a teenager.
Patrick walked directly toward Pamela and Stephanie, and just when it looked like he was going to mow them down, Stephanie awkwardly jutted out of the way to give him room to pass. Pamela stood stock-still and hardly noticed the man walk past her. She did, however, notice Cathy coming toward her, and her body started to tense up. She clutched her fur coat and closed it as if she was trying to ward off a chill that would not leave her flesh.
Cathy took up the empty space between Stephanie and Pamela and smiled at her audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, while this woman needs no introduction whatsoever, please welcome Olympic champion and figure-skating legend, Pamela Gregory.”
It was hard for Alberta to tell if Cathy’s pronouncement was filled with genuine sentiment, but no one could argue that Pamela’s response wasn’t completely honest. She opened her mouth to speak, and after a long pause was only able to say, “Thank you,” in reply. Once again Alberta glanced at Jinx and they both knew they were thinking the same thought—Pamela had so much more to say, but for whatever reason she had chosen to keep her response short and bask in the applause that was filling the room.
As the cheering grew louder and the clicking of Charlie’s camera finally ricocheted throughout the room, Pamela appeared as awkward as Stephanie and raised her hands in an effort to reel in the small yet unruly crowd. A memory raced to the tip of Alberta’s mind and she saw herself at her wedding reception standing next to Sammy, in front of her entire family and every friend she knew, listening to them applaud her recent nuptials, and she remembered feeling like a complete fraud. She didn’t want their applause, she didn’t want the marriage license. All she wanted to do was take back the wedding vows she had just mumbled in church and call a do-over. Could Pamela feel the same way about her celebrity? Could her ice queen persona be nothing more than a charade?
Patrick wheeled in a baggage cart that housed several items of luggage all matching the two brown leather pieces Stephanie had brought in earlier. There were so many satchels, duffel bags, suitcases, and hanging dress bags stacked on top of each other that it looked like Pamela was staying at the lodge for six months instead of a week.
Peeking out from the side of the cart, Patrick asked, “Where should I take them to, Ca . . . Mrs. Lombardo?”
“To the Winter Wonderland suite on the second floor,” Cathy replied.
As Patrick pushed the cart to the left toward the elevator, Cathy pivoted expertly so she could face Pamela. “It’s the most luxurious suite in the lodge. I think you’ll be quite comfortable and find everything you need, but don’t hesitate to call if we’ve forgotten something.”
“If there is something wrong, you’ll probably hear me screaming so there won’t be any need for me to call.”
When no one responded to Pamela’s comment in any way whatsoever, she threw her hands up dramatically and shook her head. “That was a joke, people!”
Finally, everyone laughed. Everyone except Cathy who merely pressed her lips together tightly hoping it would be interpreted as a smile.
“Do you think they hate each other as much as they appear to?” Jinx whispered to Alberta.
“It’s very possible,” Alberta whispered back. “They remind me of when I saw Joan Crawford and Bette Davis on an old talk show, I think it was Dick Cavett. They were all smiles, but oh boy, you could tell that all they wanted to do was claw each other’s eyes out.”
“Do you think this has anything to do with the argument we overheard when we arrived?” Jinx asked. “Maybe Cathy really doesn’t want Pamela here, but feels she has no other choice if she wants to make the reopening a success.”
Tilting her head back and forth, Alberta replied, “Could be, Jinxie. But maybe Cathy’s just jealous. I hate to be a pettegolezzo . . .”
“Don’t be silly, you know how much I love Gossipy Gram.”
“I know you do,” Alberta said, pursing her lips in reproach. “And we’ll talk about that later. I hate to point out the obvious, but maybe Cathy’s jealous because Pamela’s so affascinante . . . glamorous, and Cathy’s so—”
“Sciatto,” Jinx said, finishing Alberta’s sentence.
“How do you know how to say dowdy in Italian?” Alberta asked.
Jinx bit her tongue because she wouldn’t dare tell her grandmother that it was one of the few words she remembered her mother using to describe Alberta when she was living in Florida. Even if she had agreed with her mother’s description of Alberta, she would never hurt her grandmother by explaining how she knew the word. Instead, she white-lied.
“You know I’ve been studying my Italian,” Jinx said. “It’s one of those slang words that jumped out at me.”
Impressed, Alberta replied, “You’re such a smart girl, Jinx. And yes, maybe it’s as simple as that. Cathy could just be sensitive.”
“Ow!” Cathy shouted.
Emotionally and physically.
“I’m sorry, Cathy, are you alright?”
Alberta and Jinx turned around and saw Joyce standing in front of Cathy, who was rubbing her shoulder.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Cathy said, still wincing a bit. “I got a flu shot this morning and my arm still hurts.”
“I know how you feel, I hate needles,” Joyce shared. “But at my age it’s important to get the shot.”
“At any age,” Cathy added. “I didn’t get one as a kid and after one bout with the flu, you’ll never forget to get it again.”
* * *
Later, in the middle of the night, Lola was purring so loudly it reminded Alberta that she had forgotten something very important: Lola’s milk. Every night before going to bed Alberta would put out fresh milk for Lola to drink during the night. Since she had never taken Lola to a hotel overnight before, she forgot their nightly ritual.
Alberta quickly threw on the fluffy red and black plaid bathrobe and matching slippers she bought specifically for the trip, carried Lola in her arms, and headed to the kitchen. She contemplated calling room service, but didn’t want to bother the staff at such a late hour. Plus, Alberta had never met a kitchen she didn’t like. Satiated by the cuddling if not having her thirst quenched, Lola was purring until they reached the dining room and Alberta noticed someone lurking in the shadows.
Only when Cathy turned around and her face was illuminated by the moonlight did Alberta know who was in the main dining room with her.
“Mi dispiace, I hope I didn’t wake you,” Alberta said.
“Oh no, I couldn’t sleep,” Cathy replied. “And when I can’t sleep I like to take in the view.”
Alberta understood why. Looking out the window, it was evident that nighttime cast a spell on the area making it even more magical than what it looked like when seen in the harsh light of day. Lit by the bluish glow of the moon, Lake Ariel and its surroundings transformed into something out of a fairy tale, ethereal, picturesque, and despite its stillness, pulsing with life. Cathy gazed out the window, and when she spoke it was almost as if she had forgotten Alberta and Lola were standing next to her.
“Life can be funny, you know,” Cathy remarked. “When you least expect it you’re thrown headfirst back into your past. No matter how hard you’ve tried to escape it, you can’t, it’s always there ready to grab hold of you again.”
Alberta’s forehead furrowed as she contemplated Cathy’s quizzical comment. She didn’t know what she was referencing, but she did understand the feeling.
“Did you grow up in this area?” Alberta asked.
Cathy turned to face Alberta again and this time Alberta saw the bags underneath the woman’s eyes and the lines around her mouth. Stress was clinging to her face along with the past.
“No, I’m from California,” Cathy replied. “But my husband, sorry, my late husband, Mike, grew up near here, closer to Tranquility actually, and his family loved going to Memory Lake every summer.”
“Really?” Alberta said. “That’s such a coincidence because mine did too and I live there now.”
“I know.”
Instinct took over and Alberta clutched Lola closer to her as a means of protection. “How do you know that?”
“Vinny told me,” Cathy answered. “I hear it’s a beautiful place.”
Once again Alberta felt Cathy was lying. Her explanation contained logic and it was plausible that Vinny mentioned she lived off Memory Lake, but it struck her as peculiar. Alberta wanted to think she was taking this amateur detective thing too seriously, but experience had proven that her instincts were often right. So for now, she’d mentally file this bit of information for when she might need to recall it.
“Memory Lake is beautiful,” Alberta agreed. “But so is Lake Ariel and this whole area. Especially at night.”
“Yes it is,” Cathy said, gazing back out the window. “My hope is to be here for a good long time.”
Cathy might want to establish roots right here in Icicle Lodge, but Alberta was fighting a feeling of impending doom and the very real thought that she had already been here long enough.