four

Back down the hill, we soon passed the town’s impressive House of Celebration, which fronted the lake before the path started around the final curve. By the time we reached the resort, the daylight was nearly gone. But no one complained as we turned that last corner of the looped trail and walked back alongside the water, on the sand.

Reed and I and our dogs remained in the middle of the hikers, behind Neal and Janelle. Those two seemed to chat quite a bit, and I wished I could hear what they were saying. Or maybe not. Despite Janelle’s sadness and her unreadable reaction outside the Arnists’ mansion, they were now clearly flirting, and I didn’t want to be a meddling older sister if theirs was a genuine romantic relationship in the making.

But I didn’t know Janelle well enough to figure her out, and if she was somehow using Neal without potentially caring for him … now where had that come from?

Maybe just my usual suspicions of people—which had been stoked recently thanks to some events that occurred after I opened my shops—blended with my concern for my brother.

Neal turned, waving his staff and calling, “We’re nearly done. And you’re all still with me. You all rock!”

I didn’t have a staff, but I waved my fist in the air. “So do you, Neal. This has been great, hasn’t it, everyone?”

A cheer went up around me, and I couldn’t help grinning. I glanced at Reed and saw that he, too, was cheering even as he looked back at me, as if he wanted to be sure I recognized his outspoken agreement.

I heard a cell phone ring then. It wasn’t my tone, and it sounded as if it came from somewhere in front of me. Janelle reached into her pocket and drew out her phone. With a slight frown, Neal regarded her as she began talking.

I couldn’t hear her, but he probably could. The call didn’t last long, at least. Her phone was back in her pocket in less than a minute.

Was her ending the call so quickly worth adding a brownie point, or should one be subtracted because she’d answered her phone at all, plus even had her ringer on? That was up to Neal, but I supposed he could consider it a wash.

My brother soon led us up the stairway from the beach, and we stopped at the rear of the resort’s main reception building, with its sloping slate roof over thick white walls and dark wood-framed windows. The similar-looking but smaller guest buildings framed it on either side.

Before we entered the back door, a woman came out. She seemed to scan our crowd until she saw Janelle, and then they both smiled at each other.

The woman was probably in her forties, with a short cap of black hair and a snub nose over a wide mouth. As if she, too, had gone on a hike, she was dressed in jeans, a black sweatshirt, and athletic shoes. She held a phone in her hand, and I guessed that she might have been the person who’d called Janelle. I felt even more certain of it when the two of them walked together toward the guest buildings off to the left. Neal glanced quizzically and not especially happily toward Janelle as he led his hikers inside, with Reed and me and our dogs bringing up the rear.

Neal said his goodbyes and thank-yous, and so did the other hikers, including me. I reminded people that they were invited to sample treats at my shops the next day. Then Reed and I were left there with our dogs as Neal walked toward the lobby door with some of his guests.

The lobby was crowded as always, including more people who’d brought dogs. I liked this place and was glad that Neal worked here, despite the fact that his prior boss had been murdered a few months ago—and I’d been all but accused of killing her. But that fortunately was behind me. The current manager was also a member of the Ethman family that owned the resort: Elise Ethman Hainner, who was married to Walt Hainner, an excellent and very nice local contractor.

While Neal continued his goodbyes, I started to say good night to Reed but saw Janelle and her friend enter the lobby. Rather than heading toward Neal, they stood near the door for a few seconds, then hurried through the crowd in the direction of the bar, which was toward the rear of the lobby beside the restaurant and also overlooked the lake.

I admit it. I was curious. Biscuit and I started walking that way, too.

“Are you interested in a drink?” Reed sounded a bit surprised as Hugo and he caught up with me.

“Maybe,” I said. If that was what Janelle was after, I’d be glad to grab a drink—and possibly eavesdrop. Fortunately, although I knew dogs weren’t welcome in the restaurant, it was okay to bring them into the bar.

I stopped at the doorway, since it was a lot darker in the bar than in the lobby. I soon spotted Janelle and her friend beyond all the full tables, standing beside the bar itself, which was lined with mostly occupied stools. The tables consisted of fairly small squares of wood veneer, with chairs on all sides and lots of drinks set on top of them—or else in the hands of the loud and boisterous patrons. The entire room was crowded, and a TV on the wall was tuned to a baseball game, although I’d no idea who was playing.

“Let’s go over here,” I said to Reed. “We can grab a drink with Janelle till Neal gets here.” Maybe.

Reed looked at me as if he was as dubious as I felt. But I didn’t want to explain anything to him right now. I just wanted to find out what this woman—a woman my brother was interested in—was doing in the bar without him.

I tightened my grip on Biscuit’s leash so she had to walk right beside me, and saw Reed do the same with Hugo. We had to maneuver through the crowd, and as I inhaled I thought I might get tipsy just from the aroma of liquor that permeated the air. But in a minute, I was able to sidle up beside where Janelle stood.

“Good to see you up here,” I heard her say to another woman—not the one she’d entered with—who was sitting on one of the stools at her other side. “Are there any dog parks up here? If so, I hope you’ll tell me where. And where’s your dog?”

The woman looked barely old enough to be in here, but since she had a glass of wine in front of her, I assumed she’d been carded if the bartender had found it necessary. She had curly hair that was so blonde it was nearly white, and unlike the people I’d hung out with all day she was wearing a dress—a skimpy red one, with shoulder straps and no sleeves and a deep neckline.

“I’m not aware of dog parks here, although there may be some.” The woman’s voice was shrill … her normal tone, or just her attempt to be heard over the crowd noise here? “Jojo’s at home in LA with my sister. I didn’t bring her.”

“I figured that,” Janelle said. “I happened to hike by your family’s house here this evening and didn’t hear any barks. Are you staying there while you’re here?”

“Well … yes. Some of the time.” The woman had slid off the barstool and was now standing on the floor, her hands on her hips as she confronted Janelle. Was she an Arnist? We’d passed homes owned by a lot of other elite families in the area, yet Janelle had definitely appeared most interested in that one.

But why? And why was she asking this woman so many questions?

“Oh, really?” Janelle said. “Your family house looks so nice. Where else are you staying?”

Instead of answering, the woman asked, “Why are you here, Janelle?”

Before Janelle could answer, the woman with whom she’d conversed on the phone entered the conversation. “We’re here on vacation, Ada. For fun. You know. You mentioned Knobcone Heights sometimes when we saw you at the dog parks, and it sounded so wonderful. You know that Janelle’s dog Go is missing—she needed to get away for awhile, so I came with her up here.”

“And you’re—”

“I’m her friend Delma Corning. My dog’s Shobie, the Boston terrier mix who was with Go a lot in the parks.”

“Well, good to meet you, Delma, and good to see you, Janelle. I hope you have fun while you’re here. My family and I have always enjoyed the area.”

Was her family here too? I hadn’t been able to tell whether the house was occupied at all when we’d walked by. But that was true of some of the other mansions as well.

“I definitely intend to have a good time,” Janelle said. “And I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you here. Unless you’re leaving now?”

“Not immediately, no,” Ada said. “Maybe we could get together one of these days.” She picked her purse up from beneath her stool and headed for the door, just as Neal came in.

He must have seen the look on Janelle’s face that I did. Maybe Neal knew her well enough to interpret it, but I didn’t. Not really. But it was clearly emotional.

“Are you okay, Janelle?” he asked quickly.

“Sure,” she said, much too brightly. “But I’ve been waiting for you. I want to introduce you to Delma—and most of all, I want a drink.”

We stayed only long enough for each of us to have one drink. I chose a glass of a Napa Valley Zinfandel. Janelle and Delma also chose wines, although I didn’t hear exactly what they ordered, and Reed and Neal got beers.

The dogs received a bowl of water to share.

Maybe because Neal worked at the resort, although primarily at the reception desk, the bartenders managed to push two empty small tables together despite the continuous, noisy crowd. We all sat around them chatting, mostly about the hike and what we’d seen—although the houses on the far side of the lake were like the elephants in the crowded bar, sitting heavily on our minds, or at least mine, but not mentioned.

Neither was Ada, who was no longer here, but there’d been an undercurrent between her and Janelle that I hadn’t understood.

My wine was excellent, and so was my immediate company. I had the sense that Reed knew what I was wondering about, and perhaps he was thinking about it, too, but he helped to keep the general conversation going. He cracked a couple of jokes about all the boats on the lake heading to bed at this hour, perhaps unlike their owners, and about how the dogs in the bar had to bark to go out soon, before the people with them got too sloshed to drive them home.

When we were done drinking, Janelle and Delma said good night and left together. They apparently had a room in a hotel near the resort, but a lot less expensive. I got the impression that Janelle was paying for the room and that Delma had brought her dog and left him in his crate there. I wondered how long Janelle intended to stay in town.

Reed and Hugo left by themselves, too, although Biscuit and I walked out to the parking lot with them. Reed and I stole a quick kiss beside his black sedan, which felt good. No commitment in it, but it nevertheless hinted at the possibility of good things to come, as did our kisses on past dates.

Neal and I had come to the resort separately, so we each drove back to our home—which we shared and which I, primarily, paid for. Despite Neal having a job and leading local tours, his income was a lot lower than mine was as a veterinary technician, so we’d gotten into the habit of me supporting him.

Our financial arrangement hadn’t changed when I’d opened my shops, since I’d put a lot of money into buying and opening the adjoining bakeries. I’d borrowed from Arvie, my boss at Knobcone Veterinary. I’d begun paying it back now, but not too quickly.

Neal knew this, and he’d started paying me some rent—some being the operative word. But that was okay. I loved my brother, and since our divorced-and-remarried parents were much more into their second families than caring about us, we were all we had.

Neal arrived back at the house before Biscuit and me. I pulled into the driveway and let Biscuit sniff around for a minute.

I’d lived in my house for five years, having bought it shortly after moving to town. It was about twenty years old, in a nice, pleasant residential neighborhood that had streetlights on at this hour. It was a single-story home covered in attractive wood siding stained a cedar shade, with several small wings with sloped roofs. I had a fenced dog-run on the side for Biscuit, but I tended to walk her more often than just letting her out by herself.

When we went inside, Neal was sitting on my fluffy old beige couch in the living room, watching the news on the TV mounted on the wall.

He used the remote to mute the sound. “So what did you think of the hike?” he asked.

I took a seat at the other end of the sofa. “Fun!” I exclaimed. “I enjoyed it. And, before you ask, I’d be glad to do it again sometime, or try one of your other tours—just not in the dead of winter.”

“Great. And … well, I’m curious what you thought about Janelle, too.”

I’d need to be a little more careful how I answered that. “She seems nice,” I said. “Interesting that she apparently came with a friend and they knew that other visitor here, that Ada. I gathered she’s one of the Arnists who own one of those houses we saw. Did Janelle come here because they’re friends, too? I gathered that Ada had suggested a visit here.”

“Janelle told me she’d just run into Ada a few times in dog parks and that Ada had told her about how wonderful this area is. She might even have mentioned she was planning a trip here soon. That wasn’t important to Janelle—finding someplace to go to try to get her mind off her lost dog was what she was after.”

“And I gather that hasn’t been successful,” I said.

“No. I think maybe only the passage of time, or maybe getting another dog, will help her with that.”

I wasn’t sure if Biscuit understood the word “dog.” Even if she did, she probably wasn’t aware that she was anything different from a human—except maybe a little smarter. In any case, she stood up from where she lay by my feet and nuzzled my leg.

“I think she says it’s bedtime,” Neal said, watching her.

“I think she’s right,” I said, standing to head to my room.