Open for Murder, page 2
“Don’t worry,” said Zo. “I understand how hard it is opening a business.” A shot of anger pulsed through her as she remembered how she had to start her business—twice. After her year lease was up, old man Merrigan decided to use her previous space himself. That’s when she moved to her new location, a block from downtown. Moving was a painful subject for her, so she tamped down the bad feelings and refocused on Beth. “Are you ready for this weekend?”
Beth wrinkled her nose, finishing her sweet. “I think so. I worked at the Waldorf Astoria for ten years coordinating weddings. A lodge in the Black Hills should be a breeze, right?”
Zo nodded, but her friend didn’t sound as confident as she looked.
“My mom’s been great with social media, and Jack has been better at repairs than I thought he would be. The girls love the place. But it’s still hard.”
Zo understood. “You miss Lilly?”
“I do.” Beth offered a small smile. “Coming back here has brought back so many memories. Good memories—but sad at the same time. I’m starting to go through her things.”
“I miss her, too.” Abandoned at birth, Zo used to think of Spirit Canyon Lodge as home. Foster homes came and went, but the lodge never changed. The people, the food, the friendship—they were what she imagined family felt like. When Beth told her she was coming back to reopen the lodge, Zo felt like a piece of herself was returning.
“She loved you, you know,” said Beth. “Loved the way you used to ride your bike through the canyon like the devil was chasing you.” She chuckled. “Remember that old ten-speed?”
“How could I forget?” Zo laughed. The blue bike had taken her everywhere.
A man in a green forest ranger uniform tapped on the window, startling them.
“Great,” said Zo. “It’s Smokey the Bear.”
“Who’s that?”
“Max Harrington. He’s a forest ranger.”
Max entered the bakery and strode over to their table in two large steps. His light brown hair was clean-cut, and the creases on his shirtsleeves framed his muscular arms. Everything about him said wholesome, except his eyes. They were blue, dead serious, and directed at her.
“I’m not going to tell you again that you need to get registration decals on your kayaks, Zo,” Max said. “If you don’t, I’m reporting you myself.”
Zo ignored him, speaking to Beth. “Max thinks he’s the official law and order around here. He’s always busting my chops over some sticker or another.”
“I’m a Law Enforcement Officer for the National Forest Service,” Max snapped. “I am the official law and order around here.”
Zo rolled her eyes. “Please.”
Beth gave him a sunny smile. “Hi. I’m Elizabeth Everett, but everyone calls me Beth. My family and I just moved into Spirit Canyon Lodge. We’re the new owners.”
Max held out his hand. Zo decided it looked like a large paw. “You have a gorgeous place up there. I’m glad to see it reopening.”
“Thank you,” said Beth. “I spent lots of summers here as a kid—that’s how I know Zo.”
Max turned his attention back to Zo. “Look. I know you think I’m picking on you, but I’m not. It’s the law, and I don’t want to see you get in trouble. Just get them on there, all right?”
Zo gave him the okay sign.
“It was nice meeting you, Beth,” Max said.
Beth nodded, and he was gone.
“Bear or not, he’s cute,” said Beth.
Zo shook her head. She was not having this conversation.
“So what’s this about decals?” asked Beth.
“He’s right.” Zo reached for her sweater, which she’d hung on the back of her chair, and tied it around her waist. The decals needed to be on the kayaks before the busy weekend. “I have to get them on there. I meant to do it yesterday.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Beth pushed back her chair. “I’ve told the kids all about you.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Zo hadn’t met Jack or the children at Lilly’s funeral. They’d stayed behind because Beth’s daughter had just started middle school. “Did you tell them it’s haunted?”
“What? The lodge?” Beth adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “I stayed there for years and never saw a thing.”
Zo smiled. “No, you city slicker. Spirit Canyon.”
Chapter Two
Saturday was always Zo’s busiest day at Happy Camper, when weekend travelers did most of their shopping. Today was no exception. The moment she flipped the sign to Open at ten o’clock, she had a steady stream of customers. It took both her and Harley to answer questions and ring up sales. It wasn’t until the afternoon lull that she was able to restock her Happy Camper line of merchandise.
Designed with fun colors, fonts, and flowers, it was incredibly popular because of its positive messages like Happy Camper, Day Dream Believer, and Flower Sniffer. She’d just received new stoneware mugs from Demarco, the artist who designed the line for her, and they read, Half full. She put them next to the coasters and tea towels. Then she grabbed the s’more-shaped sugar cubes, added them to the display, and stood back to admire her work. Nice! Everybody needed a little more happiness in their day.
That was the idea, to surround herself and others with things that inspired happiness, and so far it had worked. It made her day when she saw someone standing next to the greeting cards, smiling and picking one out for a friend. With Paul Simon’s Graceland album playing in the background, the afternoon sun streaming in the large storefront windows, and her upcoming visit to Spirit Canyon Lodge, she decided this was her Cloud Nine.
“You’re doing that thing again, aren’t you?” Harley crossed her arms in front of her. At twenty, she had all the spark and fire Zo had at her age—plus math skills. She balanced Zo’s books with pinpoint accuracy and was incredibly kind. If she was the future, Zo was investing in her.
“What thing?” said Zo, but a smile touched the corners of her lips.
“The embracing-your-happiness thing.” It was a technique they’d learned in a gratitude journaling class. The speaker said to take one minute every hour to embrace the happiness in your life right now. Zo was convinced it was working.
“Okay, I am, but these are so darn cute,” said Zo. “Don’t you think?”
Harley sauntered over to the display. Willowy and tall, she was dressed in a camouflage shirt and black jeans. “They’re adorable. What about the honey sticks?”
“Right,” Zo said. “I should order some more.”
Harley walked toward the counter. “I’ll do it. You’ve got that thing to go to.”
Zo checked the wall clock. It was after four, and she wanted to get to the lodge early. Beth was having a chuck wagon supper. “Are you sure?”
“Yep,” said Harley. “Positive.”
“Okay.” Zo grabbed her backpack from under the counter. “I’ll get George. It’s supposed to storm tonight, so I want him inside.”
“Good luck with that.”
Zo started toward the door, noting how homey the store felt. When she first moved to this location, she worried it wouldn’t be the same, that she wouldn’t like it as much as her downtown storefront. As it turned out, she liked it even better. It was the home she’d always dreamed of. It looked happy, and nothing said camper like a cedar cabin. With its corner location, she decided it was the best of both worlds. Downtown was a block away, and home was just upstairs.
Something furry brushed against the back of her legs as she pulled the door shut. She froze, knowing in an instant it was George. This was as close as he’d come in a long time, except to visit his food dish, which he emptied sometime after she went to bed. Carefully, she turned around. He rolled to his back, scratching on the gravel parking lot.
“Hey, George.”
He meowed a response.
She bent down slowly and rubbed his chin. “I see your ears still look good.”
He answered by rolling to his other side, his white stripes of fur brown from the dirt.
She petted him a long time before making her move. It was now or never. A thunderstorm was predicted for the area, so he couldn’t stay outside tonight. Spring storms could be dangerous.
She stood and slowly reopened the door of Happy Camper. He didn’t bolt. He was watching her. Putting her finger to her lips, she warned Harley not to make a sound. She tiptoed to the cash register, where she had a can of whitefish tuna stashed below the counter. She pulled back the metal tab. The smell of fish filled the small shop, and George stepped one orange paw over the threshold. She placed the container on the counter and stared at the computer screen. If George saw the glint of hope in her eyes, he would be gone.
Slowly he sauntered inside, stopping once to lick a spot on his leg. Zo’s heartbeat picked up as she noticed him turn and look back at the door. But then he surprised her by leaping to the counter with a meow. When he was fully engaged with the tuna fish, Harley nodded, and Zo stepped toward the door, first slowly, then quickly before he could change his mind. As she scooted out the door for a second time, she congratulated herself on successfully capturing a domestic animal—and also keeping his litter box. There were a few times she’d thought about throwing it away when he didn’t come home night after night.
She glanced down at her jean capris and flip-flops, deciding she didn’t need to change. Chuck wagons didn’t require fancy attire—at least the ones she’d attended. She untied the green sweatshirt from her waist and put it on. She liked the color because it matched her eyes. Cunningham said they reminded him of a cat’s, but obviously George didn’t see the resemblance. If he did, he might have treated her better. She repositioned the silver moon necklace she always wore. Engraved with the name Zo, it was the only delicate piece of jewelry she owned. It was with her when she was found at the police station as a baby. She hadn’t taken it off since she was old enough to fasten the clasp.
Despite the storm warning, the night was calm, and as Zo drove into the canyon, she rolled down her window to let in the fresh air. She loved Spirit Canyon, and not just because of the spooky lore surrounding it. Well, actually, the lore had a lot to do with it. Passing under a rock archway, she imagined she was entering another world. In the cold months, Spirit Canyon remained a frosty wonderland, and in the spring and summer, the weather was unpredictable. On sunny days, for instance, the sun didn’t always reach deep crevices of the ravine. Sometimes it just brushed the tree branches on the skyline, leaving the canyon dark and mysterious. There was a narrow crack called 11th Hour Gulch because it received a single hour of sunlight. Where else in the area could you find a place that boasted just one hour of light per day?
When Zo arrived at the lodge, it was decked out in a Grand Opening ribbon and two pillars of colorful balloons. It was a log A-frame with a wraparound porch situated near a creek in the meadow. She remembered the many days and nights she and Beth sat on the oversized porch, playing Barbies, making forts, and eating popcorn. It’d been such a long time ago. She’d forgotten how important the lodge was and what a good friend Beth had been.
As she put her Subaru Outback in park, she noticed the KRSO news van in the lot. They must have been covering the grand opening. She also noticed the updates to the lodge. The Adirondack chairs and hanging lanterns were new, as were the purple and blue impatiens, which added a perfect pop of color. Beth always did have an eye for details. If anyone could modernize this 1960s lodge, she could.
Zo walked up the cobblestone path, lingering a moment before approaching the front door. The updates, although pretty, didn’t change the rugged beauty of the place. The ponderosa pines, which gave the Black Hills their dark appearance, stood like stewards in the distance, and wild sagebrush gave way to their natural splendor. Despite modern conveniences, the lodge would always be a long road from the rest of civilization.
“Zo!” said Beth as Zo opened the door. “You made it.”
Like the outside, the inside was familiar but new—and buzzing with activity. The floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace hadn’t changed. It was flanked by long windows that overlooked Spirit Canyon. On the mantel were tiny vases of purple pasqueflower, the state blossom and first sign of spring. The large buffalo head from Zo’s childhood no longer hung above the hearth. Replacing it was a gorgeous photo of the animal. Surrounded by snow, the buffalo puffed two streams of frosty breath from his nostrils. The striking contrast between the buffalo’s dark tawny fur and the all-white background provided the perfect focal point for the room.
“Can you believe it?” Beth met her near the entrance. Wearing a sleeveless flowered tunic over leggings, she looked much more feminine than her surroundings. “My mom contacted KRSO’s media department, and here they are. I insisted they stay for the chuck wagon.”
Zo would have recognized the KRSO reporter Justin Castle anywhere. Although young, he was polished like a shiny…rock, Zo thought with a smile, and as slick as one, too. The cameraman she didn’t recall. He wore a cap that hid most of his face, except the red-brown stubble on his chin. They were set up opposite the fireplace, near the six enormous bookshelves. It looked as if they were interviewing Beth’s guests.
“That’s amazing,” said Zo. “This is amazing.” She took in the room a second time. “Really, Beth, it’s gorgeous.”
Beth took her arm and led her to the reception desk. “Thank you. I hoped you’d like it.”
“And the staircase?” Zo pointed to stairs that angled up to the second floor like an L. “How many times did Lilly tell us not to play on the steps?”
“A million?” Beth grinned.
“She thought we would fall and break our necks,” Zo reminisced. “Then your mom wouldn’t let you come back.”
“I never wanted her here in the first place,” called a woman from the hallway. She stepped into the great room, and Zo recognized her as Beth’s mother. Although her hair was short and spiked, she had the same wide, blue-gray eyes as Beth.
“You remember my mom, Violet.” Beth raised an eyebrow.
Zo remembered. She also remembered that Vi Degen and her sister, Lilly, didn’t get along. Vi claimed that Lilly, ten years her elder, tarnished the family name when she ran off and married a cowboy from South Dakota. It caused a huge family rift, and Vi said she never recovered.
“Hi, Vi.” Zo shook her hand.
“It’s good to see you again, Zo,” said Vi. She turned to Beth. “What I came in here to say is we’re booked until Labor Day. My Facebook post went viral, thank you very much.”
“My mom is a social media doyenne,” Beth said to Zo. “She tried to get me to rent out our cottage when the ad took off, but I had to draw the line somewhere.”
The cottage was the small house behind the lodge. Pete and Lilly had built it years after the hotel became successful. It was their home, and now it belonged to Beth and her family.
“The chuck wagon is also Mom’s idea,” Beth continued, nodding at her mother.
“People really go for these dude ranches and chuck wagons,” Vi whispered. “I’ve been doing some research. Beth is going to make a fortune.”
Beth took a breath. “That’s not what this is about, Mom.”
“I know, I know,” said Vi. “It’s about ‘recreating the past with a touch of class.’ Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it? But I found recipes for cowboy burgers and cowboy cookies—heck, cowboy everything. It’s going to be delicious.”
“I love cowboys.” Zo chuckled. “I can’t wait.”
“Where are Molly and Megan?” asked Beth. “Zo should meet them.”
“Outside with Jack. They’re helping with setup.” Vi pulled her iPhone out of her pocket. “Dang. Still not working. I need to access Pandora, and the WiFi has been sketchy all day.”
“It always is in the canyon,” said Zo. “You might go hours without cell service and no explanation.”
“Nature,” Vi grumbled, rechecking the signal as she walked away.
The thought of being disconnected was disconcerting to some people, and Vi was obviously one of them. Zo liked the idea of disappearing into the deep of the canyon, the tall trees acting as a barrier from the rest of the world. Seclusion brought her peace, and even a certain clarity, but she realized its danger. Isolation had risks, risks that tourists didn’t always recognize.
Chapter Three
After Vi left, Beth filled Zo in on the guests. The women talking to KRSO were attending their ten-year college reunion, which had been coordinated with the Poker Alice festival in Deadwood. Zo knew the legend of Poker Alice, whose real name was Alice Ivers. She’d owned a saloon called Poker’s Palace in Deadwood, South Dakota, about twenty minutes from Spirit Canyon Lodge. Although she wasn’t as lucky in love as she was in poker—Zo could totally relate—she enjoyed her cards, her ranch near Sturgis, and of course, her famous cigars. Unfortunately, all three husbands died soon after their marriage to her, and she lived most of her life alone.
“So, they checked in yesterday, another couple checked in last night, and a woman checked in this afternoon.” Beth was breathless. “I’m almost at full capacity!”
“I’m not surprised,” said Zo. “Remember when we were kids? This place was always packed.” It was true. The lodge had a reputation that lasted long after Lilly closed it. When her husband, Pete, died, Lilly couldn’t deal with the upkeep, or the memories, and moved into an independent living facility in town. When Zo saw her once in a while, before she got ill, Lilly always remembered her. It meant a lot to Zo.
Beth nodded. “That was years ago, though. I didn’t know if it would still be popular.” She glanced in the direction of the recording equipment. “It looks like they’re finished with the interviews. Come on.”
The cameraman, whom Justin called A.J., closed the lighting shade, and Justin packed away the microphone while Beth introduced Zo to the group. The women’s matching t-shirts had their sorority sigma on them. That must’ve been how they were connected.
