Chapter Twelve

The snow had stopped, and the clouds disappeared, leaving an inky black sky with a million stars twinkling down at Mel as she reached the B&B. She had to admit you’d never see a sky like that in Los Angeles, way too much light pollution. Mel was still studying the stars when her remaining guests walked up the dimly lit, snow-covered path from their cabins, chattering away like nothing had happened.

“Oh, hey Mel,” Thom greeted her with that movie star smile of his. Chandra and Keiko nodded in a happy salutation. “Looks like you’ll be enjoying our company at least one more night but come tomorrow the road should be open according to the news.”

“To celebrate we’re going down to Cicero’s for dinner and drinks,” Chandra said, throwing an arm around Keiko’s shoulders in an “I got the money covered” kind of way.

Mel smiled. More than once Vinnie had had to foot the bill when she insisted they go to a girls’ day at the spa. Mel would have felt guilty except she never liked spas, so if Vinnie wanted company bad enough, her sister had to pay up.

“You want to join us?” Keiko offered.

“No, thanks, poor Stacy has been covering for me all day. It’s time I buckled down and got some work done.”

Mel pasted on a gracious smile, but her mounting stress made it feel more like a grimace. This investigating thing was not as easy as it seemed an hour ago. What if one of them was a killer and she couldn’t figure it out before they left?

She started up the steps but stopped when a thought struck her and turned around. “Hey, do you guys know if Mindy was friends with anyone from Northern California? Around the Palo Alto area?”

The trio gawped at each other, shrugging. Finally Keiko, the de facto spokesperson on all things Mindy said, “I don’t think so. She never mentioned it to me, at least.”

****

Careful to rid her boots of any snow before tracking it inside and messing up the floor, Mel entered the lobby of the Babbling Brook and stopped short when she saw Stacy. She had only used relieving her as an excuse and hadn’t expected the girl to still be on duty, especially when the phones had been eerily silent since the road closure. Mel couldn’t fault her work ethic.

“Oh hey, I hope you weren’t waiting for me all afternoon. I’m so sorry, I got hung up in town.”

“No worries, boss, you’ve been preoccupied with bigger issues. I’m happy to help.”

Her cheery outlook was refreshing. Of all the choices Mel had made since opening the bed and breakfast, hiring her turned out to be one of the best. As Stacy put her coat on, she sheepishly peered at Mel.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you ask about Mindy being from Northern California. Jackson lived there until last summer. Maybe he could help?”

Mel tilted her head curiously. “Oh yeah, I remember Deputy Marks mentioning that. Thanks, but I don’t think he’s the person I’m looking for. There were some footprints in the snow on the trail from a pair of expensive hiking boots. I thought they might belong to a friend of Mindy’s, someone who hiked with her. A guy running a doggie diner wouldn’t have that kind of money.”

“Oh, but he used to.” Stacy stepped closer to share what she clearly thought was important information. “He was a chemical engineer for a company outside of San Francisco. At least, that’s what one of his employees told me the other day.”

Mel shook her head. “But I’ve seen his boots when we hiked earlier, they didn’t look like anything special.”

“He could have sold them by now for needed cash,” Stacy joked. “I hear he’s supposed to meet with an investor to put more money into The Hungry Puppy.”

Mel startled, then remembered him muttering something about finding an investor at the grocery store. She considered the possibility but rejected it. “A down-to-earth guy like him doesn’t strike me as the type who would invest ridiculous money in hiking boots.”

Stacy gave a trademark cheerful smile. “Okey dokey then, you’re probably right. See you tomorrow morning, have a good one.”

After Stacy left, Mel sat in her office and stared out the window. She supposed it was possible Jackson owned a second, super expensive pair of boots, but would he really be such a knucklehead he’d implicate himself by taking a picture of his own footprints?

Or did he mess up the photographs on purpose? Because not even her grandmother took this bad of a photo on an iPhone. Was he trying to cover up something?

Jackson had mentioned business was so good he hoped to expand. That could explain the investor meeting, but was it a coincidence that Mindy was seeking an investor too? Did she steal Jackson’s money guy out from under him? Would that be reason enough to kill her? And how did any of it tie in with Hubbard?

Then it hit her. What if Hubbard was the investor they were both meeting with? Excited to be back on the scent, although worried about where it might take her, Mel threw on her outdoor gear and trekked to Hubbard’s cabin. On the way, she passed the narrow hanging pedestrian bridge that joined the B&B to the South end of town and The Hungry Puppy and shuddered. The drop to the frozen waters below was survivable, but there was no way she’d ever cross that swinging bridge.

****

Mel sat at the lovingly worn pine desk in Hubbard’s room and studied the papers and file folders neatly arranged across the top, a sad reminder he’d fully intended to come back to finish his work until death got in the way. A few file folders had names of businesses along with a collection of crumpled receipts from all the meals/food he had in the past three days. She noticed a few were from The Hungry Puppy. Jackson said he never met the man, but he ate there the day he died, not to mention the coffee and cookie receipt. True, Jackson wasn’t a waiter, but it was strange unless Darren Hubbard didn’t want to be seen. But what would be the motive?

Another file held profit and loss statements for various restaurants and Pilates studios printed on letterhead of an investment firm she recognized from when her family first considered buying the bed and breakfast. She shivered but realized it might be because the cabin felt like a meat locker and turned up the heat. Back at the desk, Mel inspected the names on the top of the pages. “Come Om In Yoga Studio” proposal for Mindy Bahr, and Jackson Thibodeaux to expand his café, The Hungry Puppy.

An icy chill crept up Mel’s spine at the confirmation that Jackson hoped to get a loan from Hubbard and lied about not knowing him. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely from the unsettling news. Mel checked—there was no heat coming out of the vent. Dang it, something else for Liam to work on.

She could either move everything to her quarters or light the fire in the wood-burning stove. Not wanting to waste time with packing and lugging, she opted for a fire. In minutes the place warmed up, so she resumed studying the files. One related directly to Jackson’s loan application. It contained some number crunching about the cost of expansion, but more interesting was the handwritten note in the margin. Vaping pen death scandal a PR nightmare?

Intrigued, Mel flipped to the next page and saw an article about the company Jackson used to work for being responsible for the death of a teen because of a faulty pen. The article made it clear Jackson wasn’t directly involved. Another team at the same company developed the faulty vapers.

His leaving made news because he’d received a prestigious chemical engineering grant worth twenty thousand dollars that he returned when he came back to Pine Cove.

Was that reason enough to reject him? Even if Hubbard did, she couldn’t believe it was motive enough for Jackson to kill him. But Jackson claimed he’d never seen Hubbard before—why lie about it unless you have something to hide?

Mel tried to put all the pieces of the mystery into some kind of recognizable picture, but she just kept going around in frustrating circles. Desperate for any straw to grasp hold of, she turned to Hubbard’s open suitcase and was disappointed to find the ordinary things you’d expect a businessman to travel with. Dress shirts, ties, and neatly rolled up socks. But then her fingers brushed against something that rattled.

Tucked away out of sight was a small amber prescription bottle. Curious, Mel pulled it out and found six little blue pills. The pharmacy label confirmed it—Viagra. He was an out of shape older man already on heart medication, and Viagra is known to cause heart attacks. Was it worth the risk just to have sex with Mindy, if that’s who she planned on blackmailing to get money?

Mel felt a tightness in her chest, and her head spun. She noticed tendrils of smoke caressing the ceiling and drifting down the walls. The stove billowed dark smoke. Mel’s steps wove uncertainly to the cabin door, but it wouldn’t open. One or two of the cabin’s wood doors had warped, which made them sticky, but even after pulling with all her might, it wouldn’t budge.

Irritated with her own weakness, Mel searched for the phone on the nightstand and stumbled to her knees. The thick smoke in the air caused her throat and lungs to burn. She crawled to it and dialed 911, but before she pushed the second 1, Mel realized there was no dial tone. The earlier snow must have knocked out the lines. Thank goodness she had her cell phone in her jacket pocket, next to Dr. Hart’s crumpled business card.

Her call to 911 ended in a recorded message proclaiming all circuits were busy. Jackson had told her when they found Hubbard’s body that the 911 dispatch covered a vast area. They were probably busy working to re-open the road.

Coughing and choking, a well of panic opened in Mel’s chest. She didn’t know anyone in Pine Cove to call. The card! Eyes watering, her hand blindly searched until she brushed against it. Mel pulled the crumpled card out of her coat pocket, but the small writing swam in front of her tearing gaze. Crap. Instead, she asked Siri to call Dr. Hart, praying it didn’t screw up and ring a dart shop by mistake.

Miracle of miracles, it got it right and even more surprising, the doc answered after three agonizing rings. “Hello?”

“Doc, it’s Mel O’Rourke,” she wheezed, barely able to get her last name out. “I need your help.” She sucked in another lung full of smoke, and the world went black.