Constable Molly Smith Mystery: Winter Of Secrets Part 15

Alan and Sophies room was at the top of the stairs. Alan opened the door and allowed Sophie and Smith to enter. "Do you normally lock the door, sir?" Smith had not failed to notice that, this time at least, it hadnt been.

"In a respectable place like this? I didnt think it necessary. Maybe I was wrong."

The room was s.p.a.cious and tastefully decorated. A beautiful quilt made out of interlocking blocks of cream and blue covered the king-sized bed. Large pillows in matching colors were piled against the headboard. A small table beside the window held a single-serving coffee pot, kettle, and a basket overflowing with coffee, tea bags, condiments, and individual-sized packets of cookies.

Smith stood in the doorway. "Does someone come to tidy up and make the bed every day?"

Sophie plopped her plump behind onto the bed. The headboard hit the wall. "Theyd better, for what this place is costing us."

"Does Mrs. Carmine do the cleaning?"

"Her or her daughter, Kathy."

There was a wide chest of drawers, matching night tables on each side of the bed, and a cabinet underneath the flat-screen TV. Smith stuffed her hands into her jacket pocket, and watched Alan pull out the drawers, starting at the bottom. He hadnt closed the door and sound travelled quite well up the stairs. Wendys voice was steadily rising. That girl needs some serious help before she goes right over the edge, Smith thought. It seemed, from the little Smith had seen, that her parents were too wrapped up in their own grief over Jasons death to pay Wendy much attention.

Easy to spot the place where they kept their drugs. Alan maneuvered his body to block Smiths view, and Sophie jumped off the bed and made a big fuss of checking out the bedside table, presumably to distract the polices attention.

Not Smiths concern.

Not now.

Downstairs Wendy was saying something about Ewans taste in women. She really didnt like the guy. Reminded Smith of when theyd been in school and her brother, Sam, had been friends with Doug Whiteside, one of the star baseball players. A real piece of work he was. Lucky despised him, but Sam wouldnt hear a word against him. Smith wondered what had happened to the baseball player. Wouldnt be surprised if hed gone into politics.

"h.e.l.l, Sophie." Alans hand came up from the right side of the top drawer. "Its here."

She ran over and he handed her a wad of colored bills. She flicked through it, counting. Alan held a silver credit card in his hand. "Is it all there, Sophie?"

"Oui."

He turned toward Smith, his embarra.s.sed grin beneath tousled black curls making him look a lot like the actor Hugh Grant. "Im really sorry about all this. I guess with what happened to Jason and Ewan were all on edge."

"Not a problem. Its happened before. Like Mom...I mean Mrs. Smith, said people get things mixed up. Your friend Wendy seemed somewhat quick on the draw to pin it on Lorraine though."

"Wendys upset, you know. Her brother just died."

"I understand."

"Him and Ewan..."

"What?"

"Nothing. Wendy loved her brother, thats all." But Alans face was flushed, and Smith knew there was more behind the statement than he was prepared to reveal.

"Lets go downstairs and let everyone know the good news. You should both come, Sergeant Winters has some questions."

"Sure," he said.

Sophie stuffed her money into the pocket of her long wool sweater.

They trooped out of the room. Alan shut the door behind them.

"Sophie has the top two drawers," he said to Smith, in that distant tone a person takes on when theyre really talking to themselves. "It wasnt me who moved things." He raised his voice. "You need to be more careful, Sophie, your carelessness could have caused a lot of trouble."

She turned, her dark eyes full of Gaelic fury. "Me, I always place my money under my socks, always. Since I was a little girl." She spoke to Smith. "Always on vacation we went to London or to Paris or Vienna. Always we stayed in the best hotels and always my mother told me to hide my valuables beneath my socks. Thieves, she said, do not think about a womans socks. I do not put my money under my nightgowns. Never."

She stalked off toward the staircase.

Alan lifted one eyebrow toward Smith. "Sometimes," he said, "we forget what our mommy taught us."

She grinned. "In my experience when criminal masterminds are searching for the loot they rarely avoid a womans sock drawer."

She settled her face back into serious, professional lines at the sight of the furious woman waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

Chapter Fourteen.

The scene might have been plucked directly from a book written in the Golden Age of the mystery novel. The detective, the collection of suspects, the housekeeper wringing her hands on her ap.r.o.n, the fire burning cheerfully in the fireplace, comfortable armchairs, Christmas decorations and a festive tree, outside lights s.h.i.+ning on fat snowflakes. The maid bringing in a tray with teapot, cups, milk and sugar, and a plate of cookies. Although in the stories the maid didnt drop the tray onto the table so hard the mugs jumped, collapse into a vacant chair, and say, "I hope, Sergeant Winters, that you are not using the excuse of being called to a crime scene to interrogate these people."

He took a star-shaped cookie sprinkled with red sugar. "Coincidences happen, Lucky. I was headed this way when the request for an officer came over the radio. So I took it. As for interrogating anyone, thats a harsh word for a simple detective asking questions about the death of two men known to these people. If you, Lucky, would prefer not to be interrogated, youre free to leave."

Ellie Carmine reached over and patted her friends knee. "Id like Lucky to stay."

Lucky Smith was much too polite to smirk.

They had nothing new to say. Ewan Williams went out the evening of December twenty-third and wasnt at breakfast the next morning. No one among his friends considered that to be anything worth worrying about.

"Shacked up with a girl hed met at the resort, we all a.s.sumed," Wendy said, stirring milk into her tea. Her hand was shaking so badly the edges of the spoon rattled against the cup. "When it came to a quick pick-up, Ewan liked to sc.r.a.pe the bottom of the barrel."

John Winters was getting very, very tired of Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouth.

"Come on Wendy, thats unfair," Rob said. "He liked women. Women liked him."

"He did not 'like women." Wendy crushed a Christmas cookie between her fingers. Pale crumbs fell onto her lap. "He liked s.e.x. Theres a difference, you know. That hes dead doesnt change the fact that he was an arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Jeremy gave a mean laugh, and selected a mince tart. "Way to go, Wendy. Tell it like it is. Ewan didnt give a s.h.i.+t for women. He wanted s.e.x, and he knew how to get it. He was a good looking guy with a deep voice, and a lot of money to throw around."

Winters said nothing.

"And well hung, whew. He was almost as big as me." Jeremy laughed. No one else did. "He was short and skinny, but I guess he thought the size of his p.r.i.c.k made up for that. Ewan would have screwed anything that moved on two legs. Although Im only guessing at the two legs bit. Wouldnt have surprised me if, when supply ran short, hed gone after the four legged ones as well."

Ellie Carmine sucked in a breath.

"So, Lieutenant or Sergeant or whatever you are, if youre wondering why we werent all that concerned about our missing pal, we a.s.sumed he was warm and comfy in some s.l.u.ts bed, or, failing that, rutting in a stable somewhere. And, as long as were talking things out, Jason wasnt..."

A side table, all gold gilt on spindly legs, crashed to the floor. A mug bounced on the rug, spilling tea. "Dont you dare say anything against Jason," Wendy shouted. She was on her feet, her face red and her fists clenched.

"Earth to Wendy. The truth is out there." He stuffed the entire tart into his mouth.

Rob helped Wendy back to her seat. "Never mind him. Jeremys always been a jealous b.u.g.g.e.r. Any woman who preferred Ewan or Jason to him obviously had something wrong with her."

"Enough," Winters said, before Jeremy could reply. "Im not interested in your petty rivalries." Although he definitely was, but it was time to move this on. Ewan Williams left the B&B apparently looking for some action. Until they found the woman, if she existed, that led Winters precisely nowhere.

"I dont see why youre wasting everyones time with all these questions," Rob said. "In his own crude way, Jeremys probably right. Ewan spent Sunday night and Monday with a girl hed picked up. None of your business, unless thats become a crime and no one bothered to tell us. Then he called Jason and they managed to find a bar that was open, had a couple of drinks to give them some Christmas spirit and ended up in the river on the way back here. Sad, but not criminal."

"Its my time to waste," Winters said. "Did Jason get a phone call on Christmas Eve?"

"I dont know! We didnt keep him under armed guard, you know. Cant you check his phone calls or something?"

Everyone knew too much these days, or thought they did, about police methods. Ewan and Jason both had cell phones on them. Completely ruined by their immersion in the icy river. Winters had put in a request for the phone records of the dead men but had yet to hear back. It was a slow week everywhere.

"Tell me about Jason," he said.

"Jason, my brother, was...," Wendy began.

Winters lifted a hand. Bad choice of words. He wasnt here to listen to the virtues, as many as they might be, of Jason Wyatt-Yarmouth. "I mean, tell me about the day after Ewans disappearance. The..." Wendy was staring at him. Her eyes and nose were red, the skin around her eyes puffy. She lifted a tissue to her face.

Never mind all the doubts he had about this crowd: Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouth was a woman in mourning, and in a precarious mental state.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Sophie first, then Alan, Molly Smith following. No one needed to ask if theyd located the missing goods. Sophie didnt look at anyone, and Alan gave them an embarra.s.sed grin. Smith nodded imperceptibly to Winters.

"Found it," Alan said. "Just a misunderstanding."

"What the h.e.l.l." Wendy jumped to her feet. "You cant have found it. Someone went through Sophies stuff."

"Why are you so sure of that, Ms. Wyatt-Yarmouth?"

"Everythings so f.u.c.ked up." She dropped into her chair. "Can we please get this over with?"

Ellie Carmine gave Lucky Smith a huge smile. The thought of someones valuables being stolen from her B&B must have been an enormous worry. She selected a gingerbread man and bit his head off.

Lucky picked up the plate and held it out to her daughter. Smith accepted, but she shook her head when Lucky indicated the tea pot.

"We were talking about your brother, Ms. Wyatt-Yarmouth," Winters said, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb against the face of his watch. "Im sure this is going to be difficult for you, but I need to know."

She nodded and wiped her eyes.

"You went skiing on the twenty-forth?"

"Yes," Alan answered. "All of us, except Ewan. He wasnt here for breakfast so we left without him."

"Jason was with you?"

"Yes."

"Anything of interest happen at Blue Sky?"

"Nothing I can remember."

"Did Jason seem to be bothered about anything? Something on his mind maybe?"

The friends looked at each other. Sophie shrugged; the boys shook their heads.

"He was just Jason," Alan said, "Same as always."

"Did you come back to town together?"

Rob answered. "Yeah. All of us, except for Ewan. Jason drove. He usually did."

"And when you got back?"

"It was Christmas Eve. Ive never seen a town shut down the way this one does. Every bar locked up as tight as if it were a Sunday in Saskatchewan in 1952. The restaurant in the Koola Hotel was about the only thing open, so we went there. Come to think of it, the food was about the same as theyd have served in Saskatchewan in 1952."

No one laughed. Outside, the snow continued to fall.

"We got back around seven."

Wendy rose to her feet. She stood straight and held her head high on a long neck. "If you dont mind," she said. "Id like to go upstairs now." Her eyes were very wet. "Im supposed to be having dinner with my parents again tonight. I dont think I can bear it."

Lucky put down her cup. "Can I help you? Ive nothing to add to the conversation."

Lucky took Wendys silence as agreement. She led the girl toward the stairs.

The common room was quiet until their footsteps reached the upper floor.

"Say what you want about Wendy," Rob said. "She and her brother loved each other. I think she relied on him a lot."

"And, despite the way she talks about him now, she had a crush on Ewan," Mrs. Carmine said.

Sophie snorted. "Hardly."

"Shes a nut bar," Jeremy said. "Even Jason knew it."

"You ate dinner at the Koola Hotel," Winters tried to get them back on track, "and got back here around seven. What then?"

Alan grinned and Sophie blushed and Winters took a wild guess as to what theyd been doing. Jeremy shrugged. Rob chewed a fingernail.

"I for one," Mrs. Carmine said, "was preparing for our Christmas Eve get together. Jason told me his family always had a light supper at midnight, and everyone opened one special gift. Over the holidays I try to create a home-like atmosphere for my guests."

"We watched a video," Jeremy said. "Wendy and Rob and me."

"Some old Christmas movie Wendy found in the pile under the TV." Rob nodded toward the shelves stocked with video ca.s.settes and DVDs. "What was it called?"