My mind was swirling as I went back to the Lodge. The lieutenant had said that anything was possible, but I hadn’t believed that murder was really a possibility until now. Why else would somebody take the pill bottle other than to hide evidence? What was I going to do with that information? Should I tell the group? A big no flashed in my mind. How would it help to let them know they were stuck at Vista Del Mar with a killer on the loose. I thought about how I felt being stuck with a killer on the loose and it wasn’t good. But it was also a heavy burden to keep to myself.
Should I call Lieutenant Borgnine and tell him that it seemed like murder? He’d probably correct me and say homicide and then dismiss it, claiming my imagination had gone wild due to the circumstances of being stranded with a bunch of strangers. What if that was true? I was certainly stressed by the situation and Frank had gotten me thinking of it being a murder. I needed to air my thoughts with somebody.
I ruled out Cloris. She was on edge already trying to deal with all the guests’ needs. Trent’s death had only made it worse. Even though the possibility of it being murder had been brought up before, I didn’t think any of us had taken it seriously. But now there was something that seemed like proof. I was afraid if I told her about the pill bottle, she would freeze up again and become nonfunctional.
There was the option of ignoring the missing pill bottle, but it wasn’t my nature not to face a troubling state of affairs. Just like how I was handling Dane’s choosing someone else by planning to leave and start another chapter in my life somewhere else. I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t know what I knew.
Lucinda came out of one of the phone booths. She was dressed in fresh clothes and appeared put together down to her lipstick. Lucky her to have brought her suitcase. Her expression was tense and I figured that she had just talked to Tag. He always got upset when she came to the retreats, but being stranded here had to make it even worse.
“The good news is that things aren’t as bad in downtown Cadbury,” she said when she saw me. “Just lots of puddles and business is slow at the restaurant. The bad news is that Tag is beside himself that I’m stuck here. He didn’t even want to know how we had killed it at lunch. It was brilliant the way you made those biscuits.”
She stopped talking as my troubled expression registered. “What’s wrong? Did something else happen? What is it now?”
I looked for a spot where we would be assured of privacy. The cavernous interior was mostly empty. Dorothy and Mindy were sitting at one of the small tables near one of the windows, working on a jigsaw puzzle. James appeared to have come out of his solitude and was at the back playing pool by himself.
When I checked the spot by the fireplace, I saw that Audrey had finally left. The only mark that she had been there was her plate of half-eaten food. I felt a momentary annoyance at her expecting someone to pick up after her when she knew there was no cleaning crew. But then, she was the grieving wife, so maybe it was excusable.
I led Lucinda to Audrey’s vacated chair and we both looked at the plate and silverware. “It’s lucky Tag isn’t here. He’d go nuts at an abandoned plate.” I piled up the knife and fork on the plate and covered it all with a napkin and then pushed it back on the table so it was almost out of sight.
“I did that for Tag in absentia,” I said and we both smiled as we sat down.
Even though we were virtually out of earshot of everybody, Lucinda leaned close. “It’s about Dane, isn’t it? You seem to be taking it too well. Nobody does that. You can tell me the truth,” she said.
“It’s for real,” I said. “I already have a plan in place.” I hated to tell her what it was since it meant leaving her and my job as dessert chef. Much as I tried to keep from getting too settled, Cadbury had started to feel like home. I liked doing the baking for the restaurant when the town had shut down for the night. I felt myself getting nostalgic about everything and momentarily my resolve weakened. But I knew that it was the right thing to do. “I’m going to leave. I can’t stand having everyone looking at me and saying how sorry they are that Dane is with his old girlfriend. And that’s now. What about going forward when they’re living together down the street from me. When I have to see them cuddling at the Blue Door eating the apple pie I made.”
I didn’t mean to, but my voice had risen as I experienced the feelings I was talking about.
She shook her head with remorse. “Running away isn’t the answer. Are you so sure it’s a done deal with Stacy? Does he even know how you feel about him?”
I looked at her with surprise and she continued. “Just because you never said it out loud to me, there is no doubt what your feelings are. You know that you lo—” I interrupted her before she could finish the word.
“I’m certainly not going to tell him now. Maybe I did feel that way, but it’s all over with. I am an expert at moving on. I’ve already talked to Frank. I could intern for him while I work on getting my PI license.” I didn’t want to talk about my feelings for Dane anymore. “That isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“You owe it to him to tell him how you feel,” she said as a last shot. I didn’t say it, but there was no way I was going to do that. Let him think that I still viewed our relationship as casual. What did it matter that he had declared his feelings for me. Obviously, it was only temporary until Stacy showed up anyway. Lucinda saw that I was not going to respond to her comment and moved on. “Okay, tell me what the real thing is.”
“I know we talked about it being possible that Trent was murdered, but now I really think it’s true,” I said. I told her about my call with Frank and then my trip to Trent’s room. I showed her the before and after pictures of the table next to his bed.
“Wow, I wouldn’t have thought about something with the pills he took. I guess that’s why you could become a PI and I just know how to run a restaurant. Except I do know from things you’ve said in the past, if it is murder, his wife is the most likely suspect,” Lucinda said.
“She is the first person the police would consider,” I said. “She does seem genuinely upset and I bought it as real. But she could be a great actress—or not.” I brought up the fuss that Leon Rissel had made during lunch. “Remember how he seemed surprised when Cloris said Audrey was Trent’s wife? I wonder what that means.”
Lucinda nodded. “And then he said something about the other one.”
“Right, he asked what happened to the other one. I didn’t really think about it, but doesn’t that sound like Trent had another wife?” I shrugged. “That still leaves Audrey as the person the cops would look at first. The good news about that is that she probably just intended to kill him and nobody else is in jeopardy.”
“Unless she thinks someone isn’t buying that he died in his sleep of natural causes and is investigating. Does she know you have those pictures?” Lucinda asked.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t really know.” I stopped to think for a moment. “With the pill bottle gone, she probably feels safe. I guess I am just wondering what I should do with the information.”
“You could just let it go, pretend you don’t know what you know. Leave it up to the police to deal with when they finally get here.” She looked intently at me. “You’re not going to do that, are you?” my friend said.
“I can’t unknow what I know,” I said. “Not that there’s really anything I can do anyway.”
“That’s true, but if you do figure out a way of doing anything and need help, let me know,” she said.
Crystal came in at the end. “What do you need help with, Casey?” she said. We both looked at my yarn helper and our mouths fell open. Gone were the colorful shirts and black jeans, replaced by beige pants and a light beige sweater on top.
“What happened?” Lucinda said.
“You mean my change of looks?” Crystal said with a laugh. “Pretty dull, huh. With the weather like this, if I go outside, I’ll be invisible in the gloom.” She gave her outfit a dismissive nod. “This is what Stephanie ordered online for me, so that according to her I would look more appropriate as her mother. I put all the stuff to return in the bin with the kits.” Crystal shrugged. “It was my only choice for clean clothes.” She reached around in her tote bag and pulled out a cowl made in pink, green and orange yarn and dropped it over her head. “There, that’s better. I don’t look like a cappuccino anymore.” She smiled at us. “So what’s going on? What does Casey need help with?”
“I’m not sure about telling something to Cloris since she already seems overwhelmed. You’re a representative of the owners, so I’ll let you decide who to tell.”
“I’d be glad to advise you, but you know that I try to stay out of Vista Del Mar’s business. It still feels strange that we are part of the Delacorte family.”
I repeated everything I had told Lucinda. “I’d suggest keeping it to just the three of us. You’re right about Cloris seeming overwhelmed, and Madeleine is being a good sport about being stranded and working in the kitchen, but your proof that makes it look like murder might be too much for her,” Crystal said. “She’s got enough going on with dealing with Milton. It’s hard to tell how he feels about her from the way he’s acting.”
I mentioned that he had been concerned about being able to stay in the background. “Who knows what he meant by that.”
She glanced in the direction of our plastic bins, which had been left in the Lodge. “Could we continue this while we finish up putting together everything for the workshop?”
I agreed with my helper. We had given the guests a time to meet and we needed to have everything ready. There was a discussion about where we should work on the kits, and we decided to move to the meeting room where my groups usually met. “I think we all need a change of scenery,” I said.
The bins had lids so there was no worry about anything getting wet. It was a different story for us since a pelting rain was back. We opted for more of the trash bag ponchos topped with Vista Del Mar baseball caps that Cloris had made available to everyone. We managed to get to the Cypress building relatively dry.
The single-story building was a newer addition and built with the same brown shingles, which were beginning to get the same weathered look of the other Arts and Crafts structures.
The outer door was unlocked, but that was the only accommodation that had been made for our use of the meeting room. The interior was divided into two rooms. I always used the smaller one, as it had a fireplace and a window that let in more light. Normally, a fire would be going in the room, giving it some warmth in advance of the first workshop.
Nothing was normal right now and the room felt tomb-cold when we walked in. The chairs around the long table were haphazardly arranged. The counter that was used to hold refreshments had a stack of paper cups that had fallen on their side.
The three of us stood just inside the doorway and looked around. “Maybe we should rethink this and stay in the Lodge,” Crystal said.
“We can fix up this room,” Lucinda offered.
“I say we do what Lucinda said and hold the workshop here. They have already spent too much time in the Lodge.”
“You’re the boss,” Crystal said. Her comment surprised me, but I realized she was right. I was the one in charge, but that also meant the one responsible, the one the buck stopped with and the one who would have to deal with any complaints.
I lit the fire and put the cups upright while Lucinda straightened the chairs with military precision. “I have been trained by the best for this,” she said with a laugh. She did stop short of measuring the space between each chair to make sure it was the same for all as her husband would have done.
“What do you want to do about the kits and tote bags?” Crystal said. Originally, the red tote bags were for my retreat group only and we had put together a knit and a crochet version of the project kits and were going to give my yarn people their choice. “Both versions are designed for beginners,” she added.
“But we are going to be dealing with some pre-beginners this time. They won’t even know how to make a slipknot or what casting on means.” I picked up two of the drawstring bags that held the kits and emptied the contents of one of them on the table. I looked over the pair of wooden needles and the two balls of cotton yarn, then unfolded the sheet of instructions that had a nice picture of the finished garland on the top. I dumped the other bag and the metal crochet hook made a ping on the table. The rest seemed a repeat of the other bag except there was also an envelope holding stitch markers and a tapestry needle. I looked over the contents of both kits. “The knit kit should probably have a tapestry needle, too, since the ends need to be woven in,” I said.
Crystal appeared devastated at her mistake, while Lucinda offered a solution. “It’s easy. Just offer the crochet kits.”
I thought over who of my registered retreaters were already there. “Bella and Lexie are already into crochet so that should work for them.” I shrugged when I mentioned Lisa Montez and reminded them that she was the one with the white-blond hair and bright lipstick. “It’s kind of blinding and all you really notice about her,” I said. “I don’t know much about her beyond that, so I’m not sure where she’s at yarn-craft-wise. And then there’s JoJo Westerly. I know she has been here for retreats before. Cloris said she was what they call a retreat slut—someone who kept trying out different ones, hoping that they find the one that does the trick and fixes their life. I think she’s a pre-beginner, so whatever would be fine.”
I reached into one of the tote bags and pulled out a small bar of fragrant soap wrapped in cellophane. “Her company made this.” I passed it around and they both admired the soap and packaging. The end was tied with a bit of hemp cord and a white label with what looked like handwriting, giving the details of the soap. I thought of how edgy the petite woman had seemed. “My impression of her was of somebody who is great at running her business but not so great with her personal life.”
Just then Cloris poked her head in and then came inside. The tall slender woman still looked frazzled but a little refreshed. “It helped to have a shower and change into clean clothes. I keep a stock of them here for an emergency,” she said. “It’s the first time I’ve had to use them.” She took in the situation in the room and appeared stricken. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry about the fire not being started and nothing set up for refreshments.”
“No worries,” I said. “You have more than enough more important stuff to deal with.”
“Thank you all for being so understanding and all your help.” She had let go of her professional persona for a moment and went around the table and gave each of us a hug. “Can I at least help you with what you’re doing?” she said, looking at the array of red yarn on the table.
“We were just going over using only one version of the kits and how it would work with everyone.” I picked up one of the tote bags. “We have plenty and can easily give one to everyone and not just the four people here for the yarn retreat,” I offered. “That is, if they all show up.” I glanced around the room at the empty chairs. “We told them what it was and when it was, but someone should encourage them to come.”
“That someone should be me,” Cloris said. “The guests are my responsibility.”
“I told the guy staying in the cottage. Should we remind him?” I said.
“You mean James?” She thought it over a moment. “He’s not so happy about being stuck here and doesn’t seem to want to socialize even now. I say leave it be with him,” Cloris said.
“Then there’s Dorothy Spenser. She seems like someone used to being in charge. I wonder how she will feel about being a participant instead of the leader,” I said.
“I bet she will be glad to have something to give Mindy to do besides worrying about what she’s eating and if her mother would be upset,” Lucinda said.
“Milton was here for a past yarn retreat because the main character in his mystery series knitted and he wanted some real experience with the craft. Maybe we can convince him to have one of his regular characters be a crocheter,” I said.
“I keep forgetting that he isn’t here for your retreat this time,” Cloris said. “Why exactly is he here?”
“Madeleine appears to think that he’s here to see her,” I said.
“And you don’t think that’s true?” Cloris said.
“Honestly, I don’t know what the situation between them really is. She said they have been communicating online. She is from a wealthy family and everybody knows that writers are always struggling unless they’re James Patterson or Danielle Steele. What if he’s forcing himself to court her with plans to marry her.” I reminded them of his reading from his book. “It was all about a perfect crime and a woman killing her husband so she could get her hands on the life insurance, so you just have to reverse the roles.”
“I’m sure they’d have a prenup,” Crystal said.
“Don’t be so sure. Madeleine might be too starry-eyed and inexperienced to do it,” Lucinda said. “I know a little about being too lost in love to see what is right in front of you.” We all knew the story that she and Tag had been high school sweethearts and then reconnected years later. She had been so caught up in the romance that she hadn’t noticed the change in him. “I would have married Tag anyway, but I would have had a better idea of what I was getting into,” she added quickly. She threw me a worried look, realizing that mentioning high school sweethearts reconnecting might remind me of Dane. I assured her it was okay.
“We really should try to get Audrey Nicholson to come,” Cloris said. “It would be better if she was around people. It’s a horrible situation with her husband, but it might help if she got her mind off of it.”
I volunteered to talk to her.
“We can’t forget Evie, the influencer,” Lucinda said, shaking her head. “She’s all over the place. She’s paranoid about her followers and upset that she’s pressured to make content and glad to be in a place that’s unplugged where no one can bother her. But at the same time, she’s addicted to filming stuff with her phone. And now that she’s lost hope of a weekend program with Dr. Nicholson to fix it, she’s even more frantic.”
“One thing we can figure about her. She’ll want to turn the workshop into another video,” Crystal said.
“As long as she doesn’t film anybody without their permission,” Cloris added.
“And then there’s Leon Rissel,” I said.
Cloris let out a sigh. “We should make sure he comes even though he’s most likely going to be a problem. He seems to be taking it personally that he won’t have the weekend he’d hoped for.” She stopped and her expression changed. “I try not to be critical of guests, but it’s hard to be sympathetic when he seems so cold about Dr. Nicholson’s death.”
We finished up hiding the knit kits away and adding the crochet kits to the tote bags while we worked out the last details.
Lucinda offered to help put together the coffee and tea service. I said that I had made up a batch of the butter cookie dough and the chilled logs were waiting to be sliced and baked. Cloris said Sammy would get more wood for the fire. I momentarily had an image of him splitting logs, but then she mentioned there was a supply of wood ready to burn.
“Thank you again for all your help. Things seem to be moving forward.” Cloris sounded back to herself. Lucinda and I shared a glance, glad that we had not told her the new development in Trent’s death.