Chapter 22

 

“Hold on a second, Feldstein, you lost me. Who’s Jackson? And I thought the plan was to sit this one out.”

I took a sip of coffee and tried to center myself. Frank was right, I was throwing too many things at him at once because that’s the way they were in my mind. As soon as I’d awakened that Saturday morning I’d called him. I didn’t have Lucinda to talk things over with and I couldn’t trust Crystal not to blab.

I’d started with the threatening note, but before Frank could react I’d gone on talking about the previous night. I’d left out the whole Roast and Toast since there was a good chance my former boss would have fixated on the marshmallows and hot chocolate.

I took a deep breath and tried again.

“I was thinking about staying out of it, but information keeps falling into my lap. That’s where Jackson comes in. He’s one of the people in the mindfulness retreat. Last night I found out that he felt slighted by the dead guy. And then there’s Sky.”

“Sky?” Frank said, sputtering. I had a feeling some liquid had just sprayed out around the area where Frank was sitting. “Who’s he and what does he have to do with any of this?”

“He’s the facilitator the manager hired to handle the mindfulness activities. Turn’s out he has a connection to the dead guy, too. And his wife showed up—the dead guy’s wife, not Sky’s.” I explained her almost-divorced status. “Tim, that’s the dead guy, was the money guy for the business. I’m pretty sure he was personally loaded. She seemed anxious to make arrangements for him to be cremated.”

“Sounds like she wants to get rid of some evidence. It’s certainly convenient for her that she’s still his wife. She probably gets everything and she could be the beneficiary of an insurance policy,” he said.

The mention of the insurance policy made me think of Elex and what Audrey had said about the policy where Elex got a bunch of cash. Frank knew all about key man policies. “I heard that Tim, the—”

“I got it, Feldstein,” Frank said, cutting me off, “the dead guy’s name is Tim. You can just refer to him by his name for the rest of our call. As you were about to say . . .”

“Well, I heard that he was going to tell Elex during the weekend that he was leaving the business and some funding they were expecting would go with him.”

“Do you know if he told him?” Frank asked.

“His wife—Tim’s wife—thought that he would have wanted to tell Elex right away, so I’m guessing that he did.” I took a moment to breathe. “And it turns out my retreat people, at least most of them, had some connection to Tim, too.” I was about to give him the lowdown on Tim canceling Deani’s food delivery service, but Frank stopped me.

“Here we go again with you throwing too much info at me. Here’s what I think. You’re probably right that it wasn’t an accident, and if someone bothered to leave a threatening note, you must be stepping on some toes. Though a threat in a note seems like something out of Nancy Drew’s playbook. If I wanted to scare somebody off, I’d throw in a dead something. Even better, one of those life-size rat gummies. Better shock value than the real thing. Or from the way you make that hotel sound, you could probably just pick up something dead out of the bushes.”

“I’m glad whoever it is doesn’t have the same mind-set you do,” I said. The note was jarring enough. A dead anything would have given me pause, but he was right that a life-size gummie candy in the shape of a rat was the worst. The idea of candy and rat would have made me throw up.

“So, you didn’t go running to your cop friend for protection?” Frank asked with a chortle.

“I can take care of myself,” I said, leaving out that showing up at Dane’s house in the middle of the night would put me in jeopardy for another kind of trouble.

“You said the information keeps falling into your lap. Does anyone know you’re investigating?” Paper rattled on his end and I assumed it was food-related. It was a little early for lunch in Chicago, but Frank was known to have a midmorning hoagie sandwich. I knew I was right when I heard him grumble they’d been stingy with the mayo.

I took another deep breath. “I’m afraid everybody knows. My yarn helper told the mindfulness bunch and my friend who owns the restaurant where I make desserts told my group.” That’s when I realized that Frank didn’t know that I was helping with the other group’s retreat. I started to explain and he stopped me.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time. All these names and groups with no faces to go along with them have me totally mixed up. I don’t know why you’re pursuing this anyway. It sounds like a bunch of mixed-up knots. Why not leave it to the cop? Nobody hired you to find out what really happened to the guy, did they?”

“Well, no. At first I was just worried Lieutenant Borgnine might try to sweep things under the rug so it would be ruled an accident, but then all this information started falling into my lap and it’s become a challenge.”

“Fine, if you want to be the white knight and figure it out for the good of all, here are a few tips. Remember that people lie, particularly killers. Go with the basics of motive, means and opportunity.”

“You’re right. That’s the way to go,” I said, launching right into it. “When it comes to motive, there seems to be a lot of people who might have one. Means—well, anyone could have picked up the rock. There was literally a pile of them nearby. Opportunity,” I said, shaking my head. “It was supposed to be a solo walk.” I suddenly remembered something. “Someone was there before me and went to call for help. And somebody else rushed by me just before I found Tim.” I was going to explain how I’d figured they couldn’t have been the same person, but Frank spoke first.

“I didn’t mean for you to start going over the motive, means and opportunity with me now. I was trying to give you a push in the right direction. I know you can do it. You were trained by the best.” He paused then, either to let the comment sink in or to swallow a bite of the sandwich.

I had to withhold a laugh at that comment. Frank’s training had been to hand me a phone and list of people to call with the information he wanted me to get out of them. I’d figured out how to do it on my own. Still, it had been my favorite of all the temp jobs I’d had and he did still give me advice.

He continued on. “You’ll weed out all the innocent people and give that cop the guilty one. Anything else?”

“You’ve been very patient on this call. Usually you’d have cut me off before now.”

“I could tell you I was just being a nice guy, but I’m stuck on a surveillance. I’ve got the van parked in an alley waiting to see if a guy who I watched roll around in a wheel chair all day yesterday is faking it. I think the insurance company is going to lose on this one.”

“Glad I could be the entertainment,” I said. It was going to be a first with me being the one to say I had to go. I opened my mouth, but of course he beat me to it.

“Gotta go, Feldstein, the mark just came out the back door with a skateboard tucked under his arm.” Then the phone clicked off.

I wasn’t sure if I was any more focused than I’d been before the call, but it still felt good to talk to somebody about what happened to Tim. I dressed quickly and was out the door as the breakfast bell made its first gong. Breakfast was my favorite meal at Vista Del Mar and I didn’t intend to miss it. I sniffed the air as I approached the Sea Foam dining hall and my stomach gurgled at the prospect of a plate full of breakfast treats.

People were straggling in as I entered. I put my bag down on one of the chairs at what had become my group’s table. I wasn’t waiting for anyone this time and went toward the food line. I grabbed a tray and looked over the counter into the kitchen.

“Is Cloris working?” I asked. She always made up a special plate for me and it was like having my own mini buffet. The older woman glanced around and then pointed to the open doorway between the kitchen and the dining area. Cloris was talking to Kevin St. John. I made a quick decision to delay getting my food and went back to the table.

Not only did I want Cloris’s assistance in getting my food, I wasn’t ready to deal with Kevin St. John without at least a cup of coffee first.

Iola was sitting at the table when I came back to it. Her knitting needles were going at a quick speed and she wasn’t even looking as the metal spear moved into a stitch and created another. I couldn’t tell what it was, only that it was purple.

I was tempted to say something about her finally deciding to sit with us since she’d eaten with the bird-watchers for the other meals, but I just greeted her with a good morning and sat down. She saw me looking across the room at the empty tables where the bird-watchers had sat.

“They’re off on an early morning adventure,” she said, but offered nothing else and asked me to pass her the coffeepot. I turned the lazy Susan until it was in front of me and grabbed the pot. Taking a lesson from Lucinda, I got up and walked over to serve her. Steam rose from the dark liquid as it streamed into her cup. She glanced around at the empty chairs. “It looks like they’re all sleeping in.”

I asked her how the movie had gone for everyone.

“Okay, I guess. We didn’t sit together. I tried to sit with Aileen, but she wanted to sit with some man.”

“Really? Which one?” I asked. “Was it someone from the mindfulness group?” I asked.

“It could have been. It was too dark to see. She’s been acting weird all weekend. She said this weekend was about Madison but I think she’s the one who needed to get away.”

I looked up from my coffee and saw Kevin St. John crossing to the door. The coast was now clear. I offered to get food for Iola and went back to the cafeteria-style line.

“Good, you’re here,” I said to Cloris.

“The usual?” she asked, grabbing an empty plate.

I nodded and asked her to make something up for Iola as well. “I saw you talking to Kevin St. John. What’s up? I hope it wasn’t trouble.”

She loaded tastes of all the breakfast items onto the plate. “Just the opposite. He’s upped my job title and guaranteed me more hours. I’m now an assistant-at-large.” She laughed and explained that it really just meant she got stuck with odd jobs that didn’t fit in anywhere else. “I already got my first assignment. One of the housekeepers found some clothes in an outdoor trash can. Mr. St. John thinks it was a mistake and the owners will come looking for them. My task is to see that they’re cleaned and at the desk.”

“Congratulations, I guess,” I said. “I hope you got a raise too.”

“Barely enough to make a difference, but I like working all over the place.” She handed me my plate and began working on one for Iola. “There’s something more.” She dropped her voice and leaned closer. “He wanted me to be the eyes and ears around here and let him know of any weird stuff going on, like people breaking the rules.” She loaded some eggs onto Iola’s plate. “I refused that part of the job.” She chuckled. “If I’d have taken it, the first thing I would have had to report is myself taking all the bottles of kombucha to the Silicon Valley people’s workshop.”

“Good for you for not taking that part of the job. You’d have to report me, too,” I said with a smile. “You don’t have to worry about getting any more drinks for that group. We’re putting on another workshop for them, but it’s going to be at Cadbury Yarn during their mindful free time.”

“Good,” she said. “Mr. St. John is extra keyed up. He didn’t give any details other than he’s expecting someone important to come by today.”

I brought the plates of food back to the table and by then Madison and PJ were there. They eyed the plates of food with tastes of everything and I took another thing from Lucinda’s playbook and offered to get them plates made up the same way.

I acted as host with the coffeepot and got plates of food for Deani and Aileen when they finally showed up. By the time I sat down to eat everyone else had finished and the dining hall was emptying out.

“Isn’t our workshop starting in a few minutes?” Aileen asked, looking at my plate just before they all headed to the door.