Open for Murder, page 3
“So, let me see if I remember,” said Beth. “This is Kaya Cantrell.” She motioned to the woman with tan skin and a scar near her eye. “The one on the phone is Jennifer Greene, and you’re Allison Scott and Sarah Johnson, right? This is my friend Zo.” Sarah wore baggy mom jeans with her t-shirt. Allison wore a Patagonia fleece over hers.
“Good memory,” said Kaya as she shook Zo’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Beth says you’re here for a college reunion.”
“Yep,” said Kaya. “The t-shirts were Jennifer’s idea. A little pink for my taste, but Sandy will love them.”
“Sandy’s our house mother,” Sarah explained. She had short brown hair and a round face. “Or she was, I should say. She lives in Deadwood.”
“For now, anyway.” Allison frowned.
“How about a drink?” Jennifer had ended her call.
“Feel free to help yourselves.” Beth motioned to the sideboard, stocked with liquor.
Jennifer didn’t need a second invitation. She poured herself a hefty glass of sherry. Instead of sipping the aperitif, she downed it as if it were a shot.
“I hope what happens in South Dakota, stays in South Dakota,” whispered Jennifer, winking at her friends. After pouring another glass, she strode toward the reporters, who had moved to the other side of the room to collect the rest of their equipment.
Allison’s eyebrows formed two triangles. “I don’t think she has to worry about that. I’ve found most things that happen in South Dakota stay in South Dakota.”
“Agreed,” said Zo with a laugh. “I live in Spirit Canyon. Do you live in the area?” Zo noticed she had a slight lisp, which made listening to her interesting.
“I live about thirty miles from here.” Allison tucked a curl behind her ear. Her natural golden waves made her shoulder-length cut less plain. “I teach geoscience at Black Mountain College.”
“It’s great to meet another local,” said Beth. “You’ll have to keep in touch after you check out.”
“How about you guys?” asked Zo. “Do you live near here?”
Kaya answered for her and Sarah. “I live in Wyoming, Sarah lives in Iowa, and Jennifer lives in Colorado. But we’ve all stayed close since college.”
Jennifer returned, discreetly pointing to Justin and A.J. “Single, both of them. Thank you very much.”
“They’re cute,” said Sarah.
“They’re staying for dinner.” Jennifer refilled her glass again. “Man I need this after the day I’ve had.”
“How much money did you lose?” asked Kaya.
Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “A lady never tells.”
A couple walked down the stairs, and Beth excused herself and Zo from the group, saying Zo should meet them. The woman had straight hair, pulled into a low ponytail, and an angular face. Her clothes were expensive and fit her jaunty frame—and confident attitude. Her boyfriend was tall, especially standing next to Zo, who was on the short side. He had wavy hair smoothed by pomade, going for the slick look she saw some younger guys wearing. He was older than Zo, though, somewhere around forty.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Griffin, and this is my fiancée, Robyn.”
Griffin seemed vaguely familiar, but Zo couldn’t place his face. It was the kind, friendly face she met every day. “I’m Zo. I own a shop in Spirit Canyon, Happy Camper.”
Griffin nodded distractedly. Robyn made up for his lack of conversation.
“I like this place,” Robyn said, admiring the great room. “Normally, I’m not a big fan of lodges. But this is rustic chic. Very mod.”
“I like that description,” said Beth. “Mind if I use it in the brochure?”
“Not at all.” Robyn’s smile turned to a frown. “What’s with the news crew? What are they doing here?”
Beth followed Robyn’s gaze in the direction of Justin and A.J. “Oh, they won’t be bothering you. They’re done. They covered the grand opening, so I invited them for dinner.”
“Good.” Robyn looked relieved. “I don’t want to be on TV.”
“Me neither,” Griffin agreed.
“Help yourself to a drink.” Beth indicated the sideboard with a short wave. “We’ll walk to the chuck wagon in just a few minutes.”
They left, and Beth crossed her hands over her heart. “Lovebirds. He just popped the question last night. I told you my love bug is contagious.”
Zo laughed, remembering the reason why Beth got into wedding planning in the first place. She was right. People around her did seem to marry quite often.
“Come on,” said Beth. “Help me grab some supplies.”
Zo followed her to the supply closet under the stairs, which was filled with flashlights, water, bandages, sleeping bags, umbrellas, and first-aid equipment, all organized alphabetically.
Beth handed Zo two oversized umbrellas. “Would you carry these? In case it rains.”
“It’s going to rain,” Zo predicted. “I spotted thunderheads earlier.”
Beth didn’t pay much attention, and Zo got the feeling she didn’t realize how dangerous storms could be out here. Lightning storms occurred twice as often in the canyon than the surrounding areas. It would take more than a golf umbrella to protect guests from a downpour.
When they reentered the great room, the noise decibel had increased with everyone talking amicably. Beth mentioned her relief. She was thankful that, despite the different personalities, they all were getting along. If this kept up, dinner would be a cinch.
A couple guests looked in their direction, and Zo wondered if Beth’s comment had been audible above the conversations. More heads twisted, and confused, Beth blinked. Zo realized they weren’t looking at Beth, however, but someone on the stairwell. She glanced behind her and saw Enid Barrett, the owner of Serenity Hills, a nearby resort. Enid was dressed in a cashmere cape, gray leggings, and dark leather riding boots. Wealthy and sophisticated, Enid paused on the landing and surveyed the group, her brown eyes stopping on someone. Zo didn’t know why she’d be here with a perfectly good resort of her own and a mansion outside of town besides.
“I’m so glad you decided to join us,” said Beth. “Welcome.” She turned to the rest of the group to explain the new arrival. “Ms. Barrett checked in this afternoon.”
Beth might not know Enid, but Zo did—at least by reputation. If Beth had, she wouldn’t have been so welcoming. Enid Barrett was unpleasant and becoming even more so as she aged. Zo had tangled with her a few times when tourists complained to her about double-booked rooms at Serenity Hills. Without rooms, they were left scrambling for a tent. When it happened a second time, Zo called Enid as a courtesy. All she got was an earful from Enid telling her to mind her own business.
Fashionable cane in hand, Enid gripped the handrail as she descended the remaining steps. “I won’t be eating. A glass of sherry, please.”
“Of course,” said Beth. The group parted like the Red Sea as Beth approached the sideboard. She filled the tiny glass and gave it to Enid. As Enid sipped, the room waited on her approval.
Enid studied Beth. “You remind me of Lilly.”
Beth’s face lit up at the compliment. “You knew my aunt?”
“She spent money foolishly, just like you.” She pointed to her glass. “This has to be a hundred dollars a bottle.”
Beth deflected the comment. “I want my guests to enjoy themselves. Some are celebrating special occasions.” She looked at Griffin and Robyn and smiled. “And this is my grand opening. I don’t mind the expense.”
“You will when it sends you into bankruptcy court,” said Enid. “It looks like this one’s already had several glasses.” She pointed her cane toward Jennifer, who scowled in response.
“I’m on vacation, if you don’t mind,” said Jennifer.
“And a vacation to the Wild West wouldn’t be complete without a chuck wagon.” Beth changed the topic. “Let’s get started.”
Zo wanted to warn Beth about Enid, but she was already leading guests out the deck door toward the event, so Zo silently followed. Enid had no right to say what she did about Lilly. Zo couldn’t imagine how Beth felt.
Beth was used to dealing with difficult people, Zo reminded herself. She wasn’t the same young girl she used to be. She must have worked with more than a few bridezillas because she had no problem asserting herself. But Enid would test her resilience. She’d already subdued the party by walking down the steps. Having her join them for dinner might squelch conversation altogether. And why was she here in the first place? Zo couldn’t think of a reason, unless she was snooping on Beth’s lodge. That was probably it. Enid was a cutthroat businesswoman. She had another spa besides the one in Spirit Canyon; she might be looking for more property. If she had an interest in Spirit Canyon Lodge, competitive or otherwise, she would do whatever it took to gather information.
Unfortunately, there was no catching up with Beth, so Zo decided to hang back and talk to Enid herself. No way was she going to let her friend get blindsided by the cantankerous old woman. She’d seen the way Beth, and everybody else, shrunk when she entered the room. But Zo had no reason to fear her. She’d dealt with her fair share of difficult people at the Star. She wasn’t afraid of Enid Barrett.
As everyone else descended the deck steps, oohing and aahing over the illuminated cobblestone path, Zo waited. Just as she thought, Enid took the steps slowly, giving Zo an opportunity to ask her if she needed assistance.
“No,” said Enid, clumping down the steps with her ivory cane. “I might use a walking stick, but I’m not disabled.”
“I’m Zo, by the way. I own Happy Camper. You own Serenity Hills, right?”
“I know who you are,” Enid snapped. “We spoke on the telephone a year ago. You had some advice for me as I recall.”
“Not really advice,” said Zo, admiring the campsite coming into view. A canopy draped in white lights covered three picnic tables, each with its own candle in a glass Mason jar. “I wanted you to know that a couple tourists complained about not getting rooms even though they’d booked them in advance. I thought it might be a computer glitch or something.”
Enid stopped short, taking in the scene for a moment, then continued walking. “I don’t have computer glitches. I run a high-functioning and highly profitable business. It was probably a matter of paying.” Just then, her cane caught between stones, and she stumbled.
Zo reached for her free hand.
Enid coughed and resituated her cane. “Thank you.”
“So, you knew Lilly?” asked Zo. Maybe that’s why she was here.
“And her husband.”
Zo thought back to the couple. “They were a cool pair, weren’t they? When I come across the words young love, I always think of them, even though they’d been married for years when I met them.”
Enid gave her a glance. “Young love. Silly Americans is more like it. Lilly ran off with him when she was just a girl. Her parents thought it was a bad match from the get-go. But that was Lilly, always thinking with her heart instead of her head. Her niece is just like her.”
This was the other thing that irritated Zo about Enid Barrett. She was from Wales but raised in America. Yet she acted as if the United States was second-rate, always talking about her travels overseas. Zo wished she’d go back to the UK permanently—or anyplace else that would take her.
“Thinking with your heart isn’t a bad thing,” said Zo with a smile. She silently repeated a line she remembered from one of her books on the power of positive thinking: Try to open up the channels of communication again.
“If that’s what you believe, you won’t be in business long either,” Enid declared.
Channel officially closed.
Some people’s negativity was too powerful to combat. Zo picked up the pace, putting some distance between herself and Enid. Her temper could get the best of her, and she was about to say something she shouldn’t, which might make matters worse.
She focused on the towering ponderosa pines instead, listening to the wind as it bent through the treetops, the narrow trunks swaying back and forth. It made a whishing sound, like a breath, inhaling and exhaling. Three hoots broke through the air, and Zo glanced toward the creek, where she saw a great horned owl perched in a tree, his distinctive ear tufts giving him the appearance of having horns. As if sensing her watching, his yellow eyes turned toward her, and she turned away, focusing on the domestic illusion created by the canopy. For Zo knew that’s really what it was: an illusion of civilization. Owls, mountain lions, and pronghorn antelope owned the canyon. Everyone else was on borrowed space.
Chapter Four
Zo had been to enough Wild West shows, museums, and reenactments to know that a chuck wagon was essentially a cowboy’s kitchen. The cook did all his prepping and cooking in the mobile kitchen. After a long day of driving longhorn cattle, cowboys huddled outside the wagon or under a canopy for a hot meal, usually beans and biscuits. Beth’s chuck wagon was pretty much the opposite. It was a dining experience.
The canopy, the candles, and the tinkling creek made a perfect backdrop for a magical evening. Well, almost magical, thought Zo with a snicker. The cowboy music might not be exactly what Beth had in mind. Vi had Country Classics cued up on Pandora next to her large cast-iron pot of beans. Behind her, Beth’s husband, Jack, was grilling cowboy burgers.
“When she said chuck wagon, I thought we’d be eating in a wagon,” murmured Sarah, whom Zo had caught up with. “This is so much nicer.”
“It’s incredible,” said Zo. From the vintage-looking graniteware dishes to the wooden condiment crates, Beth had thought of everything.
Beth told guests to help themselves, and as they started gathering plates, she and a little girl approached Zo. She had thick brown ringlets and a perfect button nose.
“This is my youngest daughter, Molly,” said Beth. “Molly, this is Zo.”
“Dad says it’s going to rain,” said Molly. “Grandma Vi’s tracking the storm on WeatherBug. She says it’s going to be a humdinger!”
Zo smiled at the girl’s enthusiasm, despite her grim news. “It’s good to meet you, Molly. Is that your sister?” She motioned to the older girl, who was standing behind three tiers of mouth-watering buttermilk biscuits, spice cakes, and brownies.
Molly nodded. “Yes, that’s her. The weather’s making her hair frizzy.”
“Molly,” scolded Beth. “What have I told you about sharing everything?”
“Not to.” Molly rolled her eyes. “Bye.” The young girl bounded off to chat with other guests.
“She’s adorable,” said Zo.
“She’s seven.” Beth brushed back a piece of stray hair.
Zo motioned to the dining accommodations. “This is perfect, by the way.”
“Do you think so?” Beth asked. “It’s not like when we were kids, but I wanted an event that would appeal to children and adults.”
When they were young, Beth’s uncle Pete had a cookout almost every weekend. After eating, they’d sit around the campfire on blankets and tell stories or sing songs. “A chuck wagon is a great idea,” said Zo. “I can’t think of anyone around here doing something like this, and I’ve been to my fair share of dinner shows. They’re over-the-top western. This is…classy.”
“I would like coffee,” Enid interrupted. She’d finally caught up and stomped her cane three times to emphasize her arrival.
Zo wondered if she’d overheard their discussion. She was probably upset she hadn’t thought of the chuck wagon idea herself. But Enid’s inn wasn’t a lodge; it was more of a Victorian bed and breakfast. Zo couldn’t imagine a cookout there.
Beth walked toward the buffet. “No problem.”
Zo followed, grabbing a plate.
“Decaf,” added Enid. “I have a heart condition.”
“Still no problem,” Beth called back. From beneath a serving table, she pulled out a cooler holding two thermoses, one marked with a bright orange lid.
Zo proceeded through the line, deciding she was too impatient to be any good at the hospitality industry. One more remark out of Enid and she would have knocked her into cowboy heaven. Vi must have felt the same way. Zo sensed a simpatico relationship forming with the older woman. They exchanged eye rolls as Vi scooped beans onto her plate.
Zo introduced herself to Jack. A short man with a slight build, Jack wore Dockers and a button-down checkered shirt. Zo remembered he was an accountant, but he was doing a pretty good job on the grill. She also introduced herself to Megan, who was a picture of young Beth, elegant and inquisitive. She had the same straight hair, albeit—like her sister said—a little frizzy.
Zo had just sat down with her loaded plate when she heard the first rumble of thunder, low and angry, like the growl of a dog. If anyone else heard it, they didn’t react. They were too busy eating and talking. Justin from KRSO was flirting with Jennifer, and his cameraman had just joined them. Sarah was trying to get a signal on her phone and had left the tent to move closer to the lodge. Munching her hamburger silently, Zo watched her, wondering what was so important.
“Where’s she going?” Kaya asked. She’d been talking to Allison and hadn’t noticed Sarah leave.
“She said she missed a call from her mom,” said Zo. “Is everything okay?”
“Her mom is watching her daughter, who’s two. Sarah worries about her constantly,” Kaya said. “I would, too.”
Zo nodded but didn’t reply. Maybe something was wrong with Sarah’s daughter, or maybe it was new-mom jitters. She didn’t feel as if she knew her well enough to ask.
Zo glanced around the tent. The guests were enjoying themselves—except Enid. She was having a heated conversation with Griffin near the cooler. Well, it wasn’t really a conversation. Griffin wasn’t saying anything. He was opening a bottle of lemonade, and Enid had him cornered. Robyn, Griffin’s fiancée, watched with her arms crossed. The cameraman watched, too.
