Fatality by Firelight Read online

Page 7


  “Coffee wasn’t a date. And he’s not a mystery. We know who he is, just not why he’s here.” Cat leaned against the counter watching Shauna put the pans into the oven. “Unless we believe Bella’s version.”

  Shauna took the empty bowl to the sink and ran water into it. “I’m not from here, like you and Seth. Do you think there’s any truth to the story?”

  One more thing to ask Uncle Pete about. Instead of answering Shauna, she held up her coffee. “I’m heading up to the office to write. Let me know when Christina’s done with breakfast. I’ll make time to talk to her before she gets involved in her own work.”

  As she made her way up to the third floor, the grandfather clock on the first floor chimed five times. At least she was making her insomnia work for her by spending the time upstairs. One more helpful hint to share with her retreat guests: When your life turns upside down and crazy, take refuge in the story.

  She needed to start writing these gems down. Maybe she could put out a ten helpful hints for writing under any circumstances, including murder, mayhem, and madness.

  Entering her office, the comfort of her fictional world surrounded her and before she knew it, she was lost in Kori’s high school drama.

  *

  A timid knock sounded on her door a few hours later.

  “Come in,” Cat called, reading back the last line she wrote and inking a sentence in the notebook she kept open on her desk while writing.

  “Sorry to bother you, but Shauna said you wanted to talk to me?” Christina inched her way into the room, glancing around, her eyes widening as she took in the office. “This is wonderful. I write at my kitchen table. All I have is a small studio back home in Seattle. It’s all I can afford with the prices being so high. I’d move, but it’s in a great location and I have a really good day job.”

  “You’re not bothering me.” Cat turned off her screen and waved her toward the couch by the bay windows. “You missed my lecture yesterday on being a full-time author, and I wanted to make sure you got the full retreat experience. Believe me, this wasn’t where I thought I’d wind up writing either.” She sat on the other edge of the couch. Of course, that wasn’t quite true, as she’d started writing Kori’s world in this very office when she and Michael had been married. The beginning of the marriage had been hearts and roses. She and Michael were a team, both teaching, both loving to talk about their day, both loving each other. If she had to write a perfect marriage, she would have modeled it after the first two years of her own. To be back here now, in the house she’d loved, well, that was an unexpected blessing even with the craziness the retreats had become. When she and Michael divorced, she never thought she’d step foot in this office again. The pain of giving up the home she’d loved had made the divorce even more devastating. She’d been so angry at him back then—an anger she didn’t know if she still felt. She focused back on Christina. “So what’s your day job?”

  “I’m a paralegal at a law firm. I love working with some of the partners. They get the most interesting cases, but I’m not assigned to any criminal lawyers. I don’t think I could deal with all that death on a daily basis.” Christina’s gaze dropped and a shutter ran through her body.

  “And yet, that’s what you get on your writing retreat.” Cat shook her head. “That’s so not fair.”

  Christina took a deep breath. “It was my fault.”

  “What?” Cat leaned forward. “Are you saying you had something to do with Tommy’s death?”

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, no. I mean I didn’t kill him or whatever. I just meant that maybe, with me coming into his life, he was conflicted about his engagement. Maybe I caused him to kill himself. That’s what everyone’s saying. Tommy killed himself.” Tears fell from her eyes, and she grabbed a handful of tissues out of her pocket.

  “It wasn’t you.” Cat watched as Christina quietly sobbed into the quickly wilting tissues. She grabbed her box off her desk and handed it to her.

  Christina sniffed and blew her nose. “You don’t think so?”

  She didn’t. Besides, she knew from her discussion with Uncle Pete and Seth that Tommy hadn’t killed himself. “I don’t. Look, I know this is hard, but you barely knew him. And the last conversation you had was a fight.”

  Christina laughed, the sound harsh in the small office. “That’s what my mother said. She told me to buck up, two dates does not a relationship make.” She wiped a stray tear away. “Besides, I wouldn’t have seen him again. He told me all he wanted out of me was of a carnal nature. Of course, he used other terms.”

  Cat tried to keep a smile from breaking through as she watched Christina blush, just thinking about Tommy’s intentions. “Well, then, that’s settled. What do you need from me to make the rest of the retreat as productive as possible for you?”

  “I really want to know how you got started writing. When did you know it was real? How do I get published? Do I have to have an agent?” Christina peppered her with questions, and Cat started her normal story about her beginnings.

  The conversation finally ended an hour later when Shauna came upstairs with a tray. “Hate to interrupt, but I know you haven’t eaten yet. I brought you some breakfast.”

  Christina jumped up from her spot on the couch. “I’m so sorry. I kept you way too long.”

  “You didn’t keep me. I enjoyed chatting with you,” Cat called after her as the girl disappeared out the office door. She looked at Shauna. “That girl is scared of her own shadow. No wonder Tommy thought she’d be easy prey.”

  Shauna set the tray on the coffee table. “She needs to grow a backbone. How can she write strong female leads if she doesn’t know how one acts?”

  “You’ve been listening in on my lectures.” Cat laughed as she took the lid off the plate. A mushroom and cheese omelet with country hash browns steamed, causing her mouth to water. “I take it Seth came over for breakfast?”

  “He did.” Shauna grabbed the empty coffee cup and leaned in the doorway. “And can I say he’s about as cryptic on the state of last night’s date as you are.”

  “He has never been one to kiss and tell.” She tilted her head as she studied Shauna’s face. “What’s got you all smiles now?”

  “At least I know now there was a kiss involved.” As she left the room, she called back, “I’ll grab the tray when I come back. Go on and write some more.”

  Cat picked up her fork and dug into the waiting omelet. Words could wait; she was starving.

  *

  At noon, Cat pushed away from her desk and stopped for the day on the writing front. She knew she had several emails from her publisher to respond to, but right now she wanted to talk to Uncle Pete. A few things were bothering her about Aspen Hills and the current murder that were affecting her writers’ retreat. Again. Maybe one day she’d have a session where the biggest problem was a clogged drain or an argument over the rise of genre over literary fiction.

  Someday. She could hope.

  When she entered the kitchen, it was empty. She made a note on the whiteboard to let Shauna know where she’d gone and put on her coat and snow boots. Time to visit her uncle.

  Mrs. Rice, Cat’s closest neighbor and local busybody waved her down as she strolled by the house. “Catherine? Hold on a moment.”

  Cat wondered if she could get away with pretending she hadn’t heard the older woman, but by the time she’d decided to try, Mrs. Rice was at the front gate. She held a garden trowel. “It’s kind of cold to be out here working.”

  “Oh, I’m not working. I made the finishing touches on the decorations last week.” She waved her hand like she was presenting a theatre production of the first Thanksgiving. She had a large picnic table sitting in the middle of the snow-covered yard. Three Indian and four Pilgrim mannequins sat waiting for the standing couple holding out a turkey larger than Cat had ever seen. “I’ve got the Christmas set up all ready and just waiting for Black Friday. Some people may shop; I’m preparing for the next holiday.”
>
  “So why the trowel?” Cat pointed to her hand. “Don’t tell me you are already working on flower beds.”

  The older woman frowned then followed Cat’s gaze to the gardening tool. “The stray cats like to use my front planter bed as their personal cat box. I have to clean it daily or the place starts to smell like Aggie Malone’s place.”

  Cat tried to place the name but couldn’t.

  “You know, that lady who raises Persians over by the high school? She must have twenty cats just running around her house. It’s a shame. Someone should turn her into the humane society; that kind of life can’t be good for the poor things.” Mrs. Rice looked at her. “But here I am chatting away while you’re clearly on your way somewhere. I just wanted to ask you if it was true about your poor houseguest finding Tommy Neil’s body. I heard she screamed uncontrollably for hours and had to be sedated.”

  “Wow, that’s some story. No, she didn’t find his body. I don’t know who did.” Cat slipped on her gloves that she’d found in her coat pockets. “I think your gossip source must be off this time.”

  “Well, it happens. Especially when you don’t get the information firsthand.” Mrs. Rice didn’t seem the least disturbed that she didn’t have the right information. She leaned forward. “So what did she see? Was she really sleeping with Brittany O’Malley’s fiancé?”

  “I’m sure that’s just a rumor. The girl just hit town Saturday evening.” Cat looked at her watch, hoping the woman would get the point.

  “Oh, dear, you know young people attach fast these days. Couples used to court for months before they even ventured a kiss. You know relationships are much more about the time you spend with someone outside of the bedroom, not in it.” Mrs. Rice peered at her. “So how are things between you and Seth Howard?”

  “Oh, my, I really need to go. I told my uncle I’d stop by the station.” Cat turned to walk away.

  “Come by for a spot of tea next week when your guests leave. We don’t spend enough time together,” Mrs. Rice called after her.

  “And that’s how I like it,” Cat said under her breath. She turned and waived as she continued to walk away. Louder, she called back, “I’ll check my schedule.”

  Katie Bowman staffed the reception desk and greeted Cat with a hearty good afternoon. The station looked empty. “What can I do for you?”

  “Is Uncle Pete available? I wanted to chat with him for a bit.”

  “Sorry, darling, I think he just left to go to the lodge. There was another incident.” Katie lowered her voice. “I swear, he was hot when he left the building. I haven’t seen him that angry for a while.”

  “Angry?” That didn’t sound like her uncle at all. “What’s going on at the lodge? Don’t tell me they found another body?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that. He was interviewing one of the kids who works in the restaurant, and I guess he told him something that your uncle didn’t like.” Katie looked around the empty station. “All I know is I heard him yell at Paul Quinn—he’s a detective now; I don’t know if you knew he got promoted last year. He was in your class at the high school, wasn’t he?”

  Cat had to think. Paul Quinn? He’d been a year or two ahead of them, and the kid had been a total dork. If there was a someone who wore an imaginary KICK ME sign, it had been Paul. “He graduated before I did.”

  “Oh, really? He always talks about you so fondly, I assumed you were in his class.” Katie shrugged. “Anyway, they had a few words, then both of them took off and here we are. I can tell your uncle you stopped by or I can call him on the radio if it’s an emergency.”

  “No emergency. Just let him know I stopped by and ask him to come over to the house when he has a minute.” Cat pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. She’d written down the guests’ names along with full addresses on the paper before leaving the house. Katie’s husband did background checks for the retreat guests. She should have done this sooner. “Can you give that to your husband? I need background checks run on these. I know I should have done this before they showed up this week, but I’ve been busy.”

  “No problem. Harry was just talking about you yesterday. He’ll be glad to process these. Besides, I bet you’re really busy this week with your new guests. I’ve thought about writing a book; maybe I should come to one of your retreats.” The phone on her desk rang. “I better get that. I’m handling all the 911 dispatch now too. I’ll give your uncle the message and take this home to Harry when I leave for lunch.”

  Harry Bowman was sort of Aspen Hills’ version of a private detective. Mostly, he ran background checks for local businesses considering hiring out of towners for positions. And he worked for the college too. He had a little office set up in the garage of their house. Cat paused at the door to slip on her gloves. In the background, she heard Katie’s side of the conversation.

  “Aspen Hills police, how can I help you?” After a pause, Katie continued. “Hey Mrs. Rice, what’s going on?”

  Cat left wondering if Katie was Mrs. Rice’s fount of rumors or if she was just one of many people the woman called to get her gossip. But the question that kept rotating in her head was why Uncle Pete had taken off so quickly for the lodge. Had he figured out who had killed Tommy Neil?

  She made her way back to the house in the quickly darkening afternoon. All she wanted was one of Shauna’s loaded hot chocolates and a long, hot bath. Today had been strange on all counts. If Uncle Pete had solved Tommy’s murder, at least one of her worries would be lifted off her shoulders.

  Now all she had to do was get through the week without another problem. Three more days—she could make it. Feeling like a long-distance runner, she pushed through her tiredness and, grabbing her second wind, she headed home.

  Chapter 7

  The kitchen was warm and bright when Cat finally reached home. She felt like she’d walked for hours, even though she knew it had been less than twenty minutes. She sat on the bench and took off her boots, putting back on the slippers Seth teased her about for wearing around the house.

  “You look like hell. Do you want a drink?” Shauna sat at the table, the laptop open in front of her.

  Cat pulled on an oversized sweater she kept downstairs. “You read my mind. Can I have a loaded hot chocolate?”

  “Of course.” Shauna went to the stove where a pot gently steamed. “I just made up a batch for the group. They’ve all gone for pizza together, but I’m sure they’ll need something warm when they get back.”

  Cat sank into a chair and stretched her neck. “How can it only be Wednesday and I’m already looking forward to the retreat being over?”

  “Speaking of, you have an informal get-together in the living room scheduled at seven. You going to be up for it?” Shauna set the cup in front of her. “Do you want a sandwich to go with that? I wasn’t going to cook dinner since Seth’s gone for the day and you weren’t here to ask.”

  “A sandwich will be fine. Don’t go to any trouble.” Cat sipped her drink, letting the warmth fill her. “Where did Seth go?”

  “He said he had some things to do back at his house.” Shauna sliced bread and put together two chicken salad sandwiches while Cat watched. “You two didn’t have a fight, did you?”

  “No, we didn’t have a fight. Besides, if we had, you and nosy Mrs. Rice would already know about it.” She took the plate from Shauna. “She called the station when I was there. I guess she was trying to get information out of Katie too.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it. Our neighbor loves her gossip. She has lived here for years. Which means, she knows everyone and everything.” Shauna paused. “I have to be honest, I sent Bella Neighbors over to see if she knew anything about the college’s mob connection. I guess they’re meeting tomorrow afternoon. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Why would I mind? Bella’s here to research, and sometimes oral history is all you have on a subject. I’m sure there’s several people Mrs. Rice will tell her to interview.” Cat brushed a napkin over her lips. “Maybe that�
��s a seminar possibility if the college thing falls through. We can find a local historian to come talk about the founding of Aspen Hills.”

  “That’s a great idea, even if the college seminar is still in our price range. By Thursday, people need a break from their own work. It would be amazing for them to hear about the town’s history. Hell, I’d even go to that lecture.” Shauna picked her sandwich up, then set it down. “Hey, if I haven’t told you this lately, thanks for bringing me along for the ride here. I adore living in Aspen Hills. Everyone is so friendly.”

  Of course everyone was nice to her. She was a life-size walking fantasy fairy. “You know I couldn’t do this without you.” Cat studied her friend. “So what’s going on with you and Kevin lately? I haven’t seen him around. You haven’t been disappearing to visit him. He doesn’t come by here much, does he?” Kevin, was the owner of Little Ski Hill and the biggest ranch in the area. They’d been dating for the last couple of months. For Shauna, the relationship had been exclusive. I didn’t know Kevin well enough to gage his commitment.

  “He’s always working. Sometimes I feel more like a bootie call than a girlfriend. Anyway, I told him I was too busy to see him this week. I’ve got a life too, even if it is here at the house.” She flipped back her hair. “Being too available doesn’t help him realize what he’s missing when I’m not there.”

  Finished with her sandwich, Cat stood and stretched. “I’m heading upstairs for a shower and change of clothes. I’ll be in the living room at 6:45 ready to play hostess.”

  “I baked coconut macaroons for snacks.” Shauna returned her attention to the laptop.

  *

  Even though she arrived almost on time, the five retreat guests were in the living room with cups of hot chocolate in their hands. The tray of macaroons was already almost empty. Nelson Wider made a beeline toward Cat as soon as he saw her enter the room.

  “I’m so glad I came. I’ve gotten so much done these few days, it’s not funny.” Nelson took a bite of a purple cookie and kept talking. “You should see my word count. If you want someone to quote on how effective this retreat is, you just come my way. I’m absolutely giddy.”