The Inn at Holiday Bay Books 7 - 9 Page 20

  “Why was Bob at the poker game if they were no longer hanging out?”

  “I guess Tank invited him. Tank told me that Bob used to attend the games before Train moved to the area but hadn’t been there for a while. Tank had been looking for a way to renew his relationship with Bob, so when he ran into him, he encouraged him to come. According to Tank, Train was not a regular member of his poker group, and he was not expecting him to show up last night, so he didn’t think there would be a problem inviting Bob. But then Train did show up, which created a lot of friction. Hank said that Tank had been able to smooth things over, and the men agreed to stay and play nice, although he also said that it seemed there was something more going on between them. Something he wasn’t privy to.”

  “Did you talk to Bob?”

  “I spoke to him briefly last night, and I have a meeting with him later this afternoon. He is a doctor and had patients today, so I told him I was willing to wait until he was done for the day.”

  It was nice of Colt to try to accommodate everyone’s schedule. “Did Hank have anything else to say?”

  “He said he hadn’t known Dax until the poker game and had no reason to suspect him, and while he indicated that Tank might have a motive to want Train out of the way, he seemed reluctant to talk about what that might have been.”

  “And did you speak to the others?” I wondered.

  “As I indicated, I still need to speak to Bob, but I did talk with Frank Fish. Frank had quite a bit to say about Hank. If you remember, he admitted to not really getting along with Train, but he also said he didn’t dislike him enough to kill him. After some investigation, though, it appears as if the feud between them was a lot more intense than Hank indicated. In fact, Frank said that Train has had it in for Hank from the beginning and has been playing dirty.”

  “What do you mean by playing dirty?”

  “According to Frank, Train had been bad-mouthing Hank for months and had even threatened to tell his wife that he had been sleeping with one of the sales reps he buys from.”

  “Has Hank been cheating on his wife?” I asked.

  “He says no, but Frank says yes. To tell you the truth, I have a feeling the threat was real, and Train actually did know that Hank was cheating and threatened to tell, but so far, I have no proof of that.”

  “Did Frank have any dirt on the others?” It really did seem that the friends were more than willing to rat out one another to protect their own hides.

  “Hank told me that Train had been blackmailing Bob. He didn’t know why he was doing it, but he did say there had been no love lost between Bob and Train from the beginning. I need to verify the blackmail with Bob, which I intend to do when I speak to him.”

  “Did Frank have anything negative to say about Tank or Dax?” I asked.

  “No. He hadn’t met Dax before last night, and that while Tank and Train didn’t always get along, as the big brother, Tank tended to look out for Train, so he didn’t think he’d hurt him.”

  “So at this point, you have Hank assigning motive to Bob and Frank, and Frank assigning motive to Hank and Bob, but no one has provided evidence to back any of it up.”

  “That about sums it up.”

  “And did you speak to Tank?”

  “I did, but only briefly. He claimed to be in deep mourning and wanted to postpone a more in-depth interview, and I agreed to wait until tomorrow, but to be honest, I wasn’t really buying the grieving brother bit.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not really sure. His tone of voice was all wrong, for one.”

  “Were you able to view the phone records for Tank’s landline?” I asked. “The whole thing with the stranded motorist just seems too odd.”

  “I was able to get hold of the phone records. There were no calls made from the landline to anyone last night.”

  “So if there were no calls, what was up with the motorist who claimed to need to use the phone?”

  “I don’t know. One of the things I plan to ask Tank about is the motorist and the details about exactly what happened when this mystery man showed up at his door.”

  “It looks like there might be a lot more going on beneath the surface than you originally thought.”

  “It does seem that way,” Colt agreed. “To be honest, I’m so exhausted, I’m not sure I’m thinking straight. Once I am able to speak to Dax and Bob, I’m going to head home and get some rest. Maybe if I start again tomorrow after a good night’s sleep, things will begin to make more sense.”

  I placed my hand over Colt’s. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

  We were on our second cup of coffee when Dax showed up at the cottage. I wanted to let the men talk privately, so I pulled on my jacket and announced that I would be at the inn if they needed me. As expected, I found Georgia in the kitchen. She was sitting at the little table we’d placed in the nook, working on her laptop.

  “It smells good in here,” I said.

  “I’m baking a couple of pies for dessert tonight. Did Dax get connected with Colt?”

  “They are talking now. There is something that just isn’t sitting right with me about this whole thing. Actually, there are a lot of things that aren’t sitting right, but the thing that is bothering me the most is what you and I discussed earlier.”

  “The timeline,” Georgia filled in.

  “Exactly. I can buy the fact that everyone went off in different directions when the game first broke up, but no one saw anyone else for thirty minutes? Seems unlikely. I’d suspect that one of them was lying, but the fact that no one has admitted to running into anyone else during that time makes me think that everyone is lying.”

  “But why would everyone lie?”

  I frowned. “Logic would dictate that while the killer would lie, the others wouldn’t. I don’t envy Colt his task of trying to sort through this murder. On the surface, it seems like it would be a simple case, but as far as I can tell, it is anything but simple.”

  “Yeah, it does sound like it might be a tough one,” Georgia agreed. “Knowing that most of the men were friends and had played poker together in the past, I would say that everyone was lying to protect the killer, but why would Dax lie? He just met everyone a couple of hours before Train was found dead.”

  “He wouldn’t. That fact alone sort of blows that theory.” I leaned back in my chair. “I guess it isn’t my job to figure this out, although I do like to help Colt when I can.” I glanced toward the door between the kitchen and the formal dining area. “I wonder how the groups are doing.”

  “I think they are doing wonderfully. I’ve walked through the place a time or two, offering cookies and coffee, and everyone seems fully engrossed. I’ve never attended a retreat quite like this one, where everyone seems to have such a strong emotional connection with everyone else.”

  “It is pretty intimidating to put yourself out there and bare your soul by sharing your labor of love with a room full of strangers, but I think it is the knowledge that everyone is feeling the same fear and insecurity that creates such a strong bond between retreat members in such a short period of time.” I glanced out the window. “The snow and the wind are getting stronger.”

  Georgia sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been sitting here working on a recipe for my taping next week, all the while wondering if there will be a taping. I think the storm is supposed to linger.”

  “I’ve heard that as well. I know we have plenty of food and a gas stove to cook on. And we have gas fireplaces for heat and a backup generator for the refrigerator and freezer, but I hope the electricity doesn’t go out with an inn full of guests, although when I mentioned the potential for just that earlier, the group didn’t seem concerned about the inconvenience. Connie even thought it would be romantic.”

  “It might seem romantic, but I hope it doesn’t happen. Though if it does, we’ll be fine. We have battery-operated LED lights in all the suites and hallways, and the stairs have lights as well. We can all gather in the living
room and tell stories or play games if it is too dark for the guests to work on their writing.”

  “I guess that could work. I think I’m going to take a walk through to see how everyone is doing while Dax is tied up.”

  “And I’m going to finish up my notes for my show in the event it tapes on schedule.”

  The inn was quiet, which led me to believe that everyone had found a private space to work. I figured that at least one team would be settled in the parlor, so I headed in that direction first. I found Connie and Larry sitting on the sofa in front of the roaring fire.

  “Abby,” Connie greeted me. “I was hoping you’d stop by this afternoon.”

  “Is there something I can do for you?” I asked.

  “Larry and I were just discussing point of view. Silvia and I have only written books with a single point of view so far, but Larry was telling me that while he and Laverne had started off that way, they’d found that mysteries told from multiple points of view provide additional angles from which to view the murder. What do you think?”

  “I think it depends on your plot,” I answered. “When I first started out, I, like the two of you, began by writing a single point of view with a fairly simple plot, but as I grew as an author, I wanted to expand and grow, so I began writing more complex plots written from the viewpoints of multiple characters. As a reader, I enjoy both, and as a writer, I let my story dictate how it will be told.” I looked directly at Larry. “I understand that you and Laverne have been quite successful as independent publishers.”

  “Yes, we have done well. Better than we could ever have hoped. And we love having the freedom that comes with being independent, though Laverne wants to start a new series. After a bit of discussion, we decided to experiment a bit and take this one traditional.”

  “Well, you made a good choice with Kate. I’m sure she will find a wonderful home for your series.” I turned my attention to Connie. “And I look forward to reading the mystery you penned with your sister. I love the fact that you combined both your last names to come up with your pen name.”

  “Carrington Chase seemed to work.”

  I chatted with the pair and then headed toward the stairs. I had just finished talking with Laverne and Silvia when I got a text from Colt that he had completed his interview with Dax and was about to leave. I walked back to the cottage to see him before he took off.

  “So, was Dax any help?” I asked after hanging my jacket on the rack.

  “Not really. He did say that he didn’t notice anyone going to or coming from the house while he was outside in his car. I guess that was valuable information of a sort. The rest of the phone records I requested came through while we were speaking, so I took a look at Dax’s while he was with me and found that while he had returned a series of texts during the thirty-minute window between when the game broke up and the men came back together, they were grouped in the first five and the last five minutes. When I asked him what he was doing during the twenty minutes in between sending the two batches of texts, he said he needed to stretch his legs, so he took a walk.”

  “Seems odd to have taken a walk at eleven o’clock at night when it was cold and snowing,” I said.

  “My thoughts exactly. It doesn’t appear that Dax knew Train prior to meeting him last night, so I have no reason to suspect him of any wrongdoing, but it does feel like he is hiding something. Not only does his explanation about where he was seem weak, but he seemed to go out of his way not to make eye contact with me the entire time we were talking. What exactly do you know about this guy?”

  “Not a lot really. I first met him when we were both starting out as clients of our agent, Kate, at a retreat much like this one. We were partners, so I would say we got to know each other fairly well during that week, but we didn’t stay in touch after the retreat was over. I wrote romance, and he wrote thrillers. I lived in San Francisco, and he lived in Massachusetts. We had Kate in common, but that was really all there was between us.” I, of course, chose to skip the whole sexual attraction thing. “I followed his career, but the two of us hadn’t seen each other in a decade before he arrived here yesterday. Having said that, Kate knows him well, and she is a good judge of character. I really don’t think you have reason to suspect him of anything.”

  “Yes, well, I guess I’ll see.”

  “So, what is your next move?” I asked.

  “Sleep. While I was speaking to Dax, Bob called and asked if we could reschedule our meeting until tomorrow. I told him that was fine. I’m about to fall asleep on my feet anyway.”

  “Call me later if you have a chance. You know I’m always interested in your cases.”

  “I will. The storm is supposed to get pretty bad overnight. Do you have everything you need?”

  “I think we do.”

  “I don’t think it will be a good idea to be out on the roads the next few days, so if you find that you do need anything, call me, and I’ll pick it up and bring it out to you. I have a sturdy four-wheel drive, and I’ll be out and about, monitoring the roads, so it won’t be a problem at all to stop by if you need me to.”

  “That is so nice. Thank you. And if you are out patrolling and need a cup of coffee and something to eat, stop by any time. I’d be willing to bet that most, if not all, the restaurants in town will be closed once the storm intensifies.”

  “Thanks for the offer. I might just take you up on that.”

  I said my goodbyes to Colt and then headed into my room to check my emails. It touched me that Colt was concerned about Georgia and me and had offered to help out if we needed it. He was such a good guy. And he fit into my life the way someone like Dax never would. I needed to remember that as I worked through whatever it was I had to think over.

  I closed the lid of my laptop after checking my emails. I really should spend some time writing today, but I was pretty distracted and doubted I would get very far even if I tried. The snow had paused if only for a moment, so I decided to bundle up and take the dogs out one more time before the brunt of the storm made landfall. I had a feeling that once it hit, things were going to get very hairy indeed.

  Chapter 7

  Dinner that evening was a festive affair. Everyone was in a wonderful mood, and it seemed that they all had exciting news to share. Other than giving an update about the storm and once again reminding everyone what the plans would be should the power go out, I sat back and let the others dominate the conversation. Boy, did I remember how much fun it was to be starting out in an industry that seemed to have no limits. An industry that asked you to do nothing more than use your imagination and make things up. I mean, really, how awesome was that? Even Jeremy seemed to be totally into the spirit of things. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would continue to work on his manuscript after everyone left or if he would put it back on the shelf again.

  Once the meal was over, almost everyone went to their rooms to work on the manuscript they’d brought with them. Everyone except Piper. I found her in the living room curled up on the sofa with a glass of brandy and a warm throw wrapped around her torso.

  “How was your day?” I asked. “You never had a chance to share during dinner.”

  She continued to stare into the fire. “It was fine. Better than fine. Alfred has turned out to be a wonderful partner. His medical background has really helped me to figure some things out.”

  “A medical background is a huge help when writing murder mysteries. I understand that you are about to publish your first novel.”

  She nodded. “When I decided to write the novel, I was doing it more as a means to work some things out in my own mind than to publish. But then I met Kate, and although I only had three chapters done at the time, she convinced me to sign with her.”

  “Your work must be amazing. Signing a first-time writer before they’ve completed their first novel is something I’m pretty sure she has never done before.”

  She continued to stare at the flames.

  “What is your novel about?” I a
sked, wanting to keep the conversation going. “I seem to remember it’s a thriller.”

  She nodded. “The novel is about a young girl whose best friend was murdered. The aftermath of the murder profoundly affects not only the girl, who lost her best friend and confidante, but the residents of the small town where they live, who must learn to deal with the black cloud of fear and suspicion that has settled over a once warm and welcoming community.”

  “It sounds so sad, but I can see why Kate was interested. I tried a few thrillers myself and was surprised to find that Kate loved them even more than she did my romances.”

  “Kate did say that the more disturbing a story, the more she liked it,” Piper agreed.

  “So, what happens to the girl in your story?”

  “She begins to remember details relating to her friend’s death. Vivid, specific, horrifying details that only someone who was there could possibly know.”

  “So she was there when her friend died?”

  Her gaze drifted away. “As the memories of that night build in her mind, the girl realizes that she was there when her friend died. She begins to remember not only the details of her friend’s death but the morbid fascination she experienced as the monster she knew she could never escape slowly and methodically took a life.”

  “The monster she could never escape?”

  She turned and smiled at me. “I guess you’ll have to read the book if you want the rest of the story.”

  “I guess I will.” I glanced out the window at the sheets of snow that fell to the earth. “But right now, I think I’ll turn in. Jeremy will be coming around at ten to bank the fire and turn everything off, but you are welcome to sit here until then.”

  “Thank you. It is very peaceful by the fire.”

  Grabbing my jacket, I headed out into the storm. It was only a short distance between the inn and the cottage, but the wind was blowing so hard I had to wonder if it wouldn’t pick me up and blow me out to sea.

  “Wow, it is really crazy out there,” I said to Georgia, who had already settled in with a cup of hot cocoa and a cozy fire.