I had breakfast and coffee alone. No sign of my pensive ghost. It wasn't the first time since Ursula and Henry had finished the restoration project that I sat alone at my kitchen table. Edward shifted in and out of moods like a hormonal teenager. I was sure he was spending his morning thinking about Kat Garfield so I left him to it. I didn't mind the peace and quiet for a change.
The splashy colors of fall were really taking hold. I hoped there would be no early snow to douse them. I always felt it wasn't fair to the trees. They worked so hard to produce this amazing palette of colors, then one bad snowstorm and their painted leaves disappeared. I was, however, pleased that the sticky heat of summer was now far behind and brisk days that beckoned warm soup and hot cocoa were upon us.
I drove the jeep past the Junction Times. There was no need to stop at the news office. Myrna had texted that Prudence was still out sick, and Parker was sure he'd caught whatever she had so he was going to work from home. Myrna was thrilled to have the entire place to herself.
A large lunch for town dignitaries and business owners had been planned for the afternoon at Thornbridge Hotel. It was the official kick off of the anniversary celebration. I'd let Carlton know I would be there to watch the behind-the-scenes activities along with the actual lunch. Mostly, I hoped that the staff would be far too busy to pay any attention to the reporter. I wasn't giving up on my quest to meet Thomas McRooney. Yesterday's little antics let me know he had heard my introduction. It gave me some hope that he would be willing to reveal himself, if only for a few minutes.
I expected chaos and a flurry of activity as I reached the hotel, and that was what I found. Only, it wasn't the flurry of activity I'd expected. Carlton Hamner looked as if he was one short circuit from a stroke. He was pale and sweaty and in such a state, the staff looked worried, and rightfully so.
I stopped one of the young housekeepers as she raced past the entry. "What's going on?" I asked.
"We can't find the chef. In a few hours a lot of people will be arriving for lunch, but there's no food being prepared." She nodded politely and hurried away.
I caught up to Carlton as he went back to the kitchen. He didn't look pleased to see me. "Miss Taylor, I'm afraid I don't have any time for you this morning. Donna is not here. If that woman decided to quit on such an important day, I will never forgive her." Even though he'd basically told me to bug off, I followed him to the kitchen. Donna's assistant, Maribel, had recovered from her traumatic freezer incident. She was poring over a set of recipe cards she had laid out on the work table. A large pot was on the stove with fragrant stream curling up from it. She looked up as we entered the kitchen.
"I've started the tomato soup, Carlton, but I won't be able to get the rest of this made without some assistance. Kylie said she has some experience in the kitchen. Could we pull her off housekeeping chores to help out?"
Carlton looked close to throwing up. "I suppose we have no choice."
"When was the last time anyone saw Donna?" I asked. "Have you checked her home?"
"Donna stays down in the servants' quarters during the week and always when we have a big event or meal to prepare. She never even pulled back the covers on the bed." Maribel answered for her boss because just breathing in air was taking all his energy. Was this what happened to innkeepers? Poor man looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else but in his own hotel.
"Did anyone talk to her as she finished work yesterday? Did she mention anything about quitting?"
I pointed my questions toward Maribel. It didn't seem possible to get much out of Carlton. He finally managed to move his feet so he could leave the kitchen and find Kylie. "I'll never forgive her," Carlton muttered as he scurried out.
Maribel appeared relieved to have him out of the kitchen. She walked over to the cutting board and began chopping onions. "I finished up my shift at six. We spent the day baking cakes and breads for the party." She motioned toward a large buffet at the far end of the kitchen that was filled with every manner of baked good. "Donna stayed behind," Maribel continued. "She said she was going to chop some of the ingredients so we could have a head start in the morning. She never said anything about quitting. At least not to me." She paused her cutting and looked at me. "We work together, but we aren't friends. I only tolerate her because I thought this job would look good on my resume. I want to be a chef."
"Is there a chance she went home after work?" It seemed that in the frantic search around the hotel no one had bothered to check the obvious, that Donna had gone home to her own bed for the night.
"I suppose that's a possibility." Maribel continued her chopping. If her dream was to become a chef, it seemed she'd been handed an opportunity to show off her skills to all the VIPs and business owners in town.
I just happened to have Minnie Garten's phone number. I stepped outside the back door of the kitchen to make a call. Minnie picked up after three rings.
"Hello," she said. "Is this the nice lady who bought the pipe corrals? I was out in the shed, and I discovered we have a stack of fence posts too if you're interested."
"Uh, yes possibly. I'll talk to Jackson. Minnie, I called to ask you something important."
There was a long pause. "Oh? Are you worried you paid too much? Maybe we could make a deal on the posts." Sheep were bellowing loudly in the background. Her breathing got louder and then a screen door snapped shut. The sheep noises were muted. She'd stepped into the house.
"Actually, Minnie, I'm at the Thornbridge Hotel this morning."
"Oh, that's nice. My sister works there. She's the chef."
"Yes, I know. That's why I'm calling. Is Donna at home?"
Another confused pause. This might have been easier face-to-face, but I didn't want to make the trip out to the sheep farm for nothing. "Donna isn't home. She works at the hotel. There's a big luncheon today, so she'll probably be too busy to talk to you. Is this about the price on the pipe corrals? I told her it was too much for those old panels."
"No, Minnie," I said working hard not to lose patience. "The price was fine. It's just that no one can find Donna. I thought maybe she went home yesterday."
"She usually stays at the hotel before busy days in the kitchen. She has a nice, comfy room at the hotel. Maybe she overslept."
"She wasn't in her room this morning." Something occurred to me. What if Donna was sick or, worse, had died in her sleep? "Minnie, just to make sure, could you check her bedroom?" I hated to send her on the search if her sister had indeed died in her sleep, but I needed to know for certain.
"Sure, dear, I'll check for you." Simply walking down the hallway made her breathing more labored. "No one is here. Doesn't look as if she came home. She wasn't happy with Carlton Hamner. She kept complaining about things not being up to code in the kitchen and safety issues with a freezer, things like that. Maybe she decided to teach him a lesson and not show up today. I wouldn't put it past my sister to do something like that. She has a spiteful temperament."
"Maybe you're right, Minnie. I'll let you get to your sheep. I'll ask Jackson about the fence posts and get back to you. Goodbye."
I headed back inside. Maribel had gotten her assistant. Kylie was busy slicing cheese, while Maribel cut slices off loaves of sourdough. The distinctive smell of eggs filled the kitchen. It seemed since she was now in charge, Maribel had decided to make the deviled eggs after all. Carlton was nowhere in sight. I could only surmise that he was in his office or room having a nervous breakdown. It sure didn't help that he fell apart when a problem arose.
I wasn't great in the kitchen, but I could offer some help. I was about to ask Maribel when a vision in the far corner of the kitchen knocked the breath from me. Thomas McRooney was just as I'd pictured him. He was much less statuesque and elegant than Edward. His chin was covered in rough, dark stubble, and his brown vest was unbuttoned revealing a stained shirt beneath. He looked weathered, almost leathery, which was not easy considering he was the farthest thing from being solid. Deep set eyes peered out over a long nose and his thinning hair was combed to the side and smoothed permanently down with grease.
I nodded lightly at him.
He nodded back and then motioned toward the freezer. He nodded again and vanished. I stared at the freezer for a second. Then it struck me like a great bolt of lightning. The freezer.
I headed toward it. "Maribel," I asked urgently. "Have you been in the freezer today?"
She shook her head. "I'm afraid to get back on the horse, if you know what I mean. I haven't needed anything yet. We're working mostly with fresh produce today." She continued slicing the bread but stopped when she saw me yank open the heavy door. "You don't think—" She stopped and came cautiously closer. Kylie approached as well.
A frosty fog cleared. Maribel screamed behind me. Donna was huddled in a ball against the back corner of the freezer. It didn't take an expert to know that she was dead. Her skin was blue and covered with the same frost as the frozen goods lining the shelves.
I turned to the two horrified women standing outside the freezer. "You'd better find Carlton."