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Authors: Connie Archer

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Chapter 30

E
LIAS DEFTLY MIXED
the grated cheese, nutmeg and cream with the steaming fettuccini. Then he stirred
the contents of the bowl until the hot noodles blended the cream and cheese into a
delicious, thick sauce. When he was satisfied with his efforts, he scooped generous
servings onto their two warmed dinner plates.

“Pepper?” He smiled holding a large wooden grinder over her plate.

“Yes, lots.” Lucky breathed in the delicious aroma as Elias grated hunks of fresh
black peppercorns over the plate of steaming fettuccini. “I’m so glad you cook. The
last thing I want to do when I leave the Spoonful is think about making food.”

“Are you saying I’d make a wonderful wife? I’m no expert, but I’m good at simple things.”
He shook out his linen napkin and spread it over his lap. “So tell me. Any news? Anything
at all?”

“Nothing.” Lucky felt a clutch in her stomach and wondered if she’d be able to eat
her meal. “I’m worried sick, but I don’t know what more I can possibly do. I keep
thinking her car will turn up, but we haven’t found anything, except running into
Rod Thibeault.”

“The more I think about that, the more it gives me the creeps. Jack’s right. Neither
you nor Sophie should do this alone.”

“We just thought we could cover more ground if we split up and stayed in touch by
phone.”

“That’s terrific, but as you learned, there are lots of spots where you can’t get
service.” Elias looked as if he were about to launch into a lecture.

“Are you upset with me?”

“Upset? No, I’m worried. You shouldn’t be trawling the woods alone. There have been
two murders in this town. We have no idea why . . . or who might have done them. The
whole community is in a state of panic but you don’t seem to have an ounce of fear.”

“That’s not true. I am afraid. Just like everyone else. And I’m terrified for Elizabeth,”
Lucky retorted angrily.

Elias sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get on a soapbox about it, but I really
think if you’re going to do this, you do it with someone—Sophie, Sage, anyone. And
make sure you let somebody know what area you’re searching.”

Lucky took a deep breath. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I had a moment when
I was scared to confront Rod.” Lucky stirred a fettuccini noodle around in the creamy
sauce.

“So now he thinks you suspected him of disposing of a body. How did he take all that?”
Elias spoke quietly. “You could have been in a serious bind. Maybe Rod isn’t guilty
of anything, but what if he did have something to hide? What if something happened
to you? I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”

Lucky reached across the table and grasped his hand. “I feel the same way about you.
I promise I won’t go out alone anymore. Sophie and I will stick together.”

“I’d feel a lot better.” Elias finally smiled.

Lucky twirled a length of fettuccini noodle around her fork and took a bite. It was
heavenly. “What is happening, Elias? First Harry—of all people. Everybody liked him;
he never caused anyone any trouble. Not to mention that he kept everyone’s cars running.
That’s the one I can’t get my head around. Rowland . . . well, I’m not saying he deserved
to be murdered like that, but at least there are plenty of people who won’t be crying
at his funeral.”

“Harry was the main organizer of the demonstration against the car wash. And Rowland
certainly had a motive to get Harry out of the way. Whether Rowland was capable of
murder, I don’t know.”

“Harry was the main guy, yes, but he was just one of the organizers, certainly not
the only one. Edward Embry had far more influence in town than Harry. He had voted
against building the car wash. And he had been very outspoken about it. If it’s about
the car wash then Ed Embry might be the logical target.”

“Nobody really wanted Rowland dead, just gone.”

“A lot of the men were criticizing Harry for not being at the demonstration. Of course,
we had no way of knowing he was already dead. And there were a lot of really angry
people—not just Ed Embry, but Rod Thibeault and Norman Rank. Maybe we should look
at it from another direction. What if the attack on Harry had nothing to do with the
construction of the car wash?” Lucky speared a piece of arugula with her fork. “I’m
sorry, Elias. I don’t think I can eat all this. It’s delicious but my stomach’s in
knots.”

“Eat whatever you can. It’ll keep.” He swirled a long noodle on his fork. “Okay. What
if it didn’t? What if, as you said, Harry had something he wanted to get off his chest—a
confession, a secret? Who would know?”

Lucky shook her head. “Pastor Wilson might have a clue. Maybe Harry gave him some
idea what he wanted to talk about. And even if we knew, how does that connect with
Elizabeth going missing?”

Elias reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I’m not saying you’re wrong
to be worried about Elizabeth, and you’re not overreacting, but it must bring up feelings
about your parents.”

Lucky shivered. Her first reaction was to hotly deny that she was influenced by the
shock of her parents’ sudden death. When she opened her mouth to retort, stinging
tears came to her eyes. Her voice shook when she answered. “It’s the cruelest . . .
to have loved ones ripped away with no warning. I’ve had so many dreams and so many
nights when I woke up convinced it hadn’t really happened. When I look around me,
I know it did happen. I’m not in Madison. I’m not in my mother’s house. I’m in a small
apartment and my past is gone.”

Elias came around the table and took her in his arms. “You’re not alone. I’m here
and so is Jack. And Elizabeth will be found. I feel sure she will be.”

Lucky felt her shoulders relax in the comfort of his arms. She touched the warm skin
of his neck and breathed in a scent of aftershave. “I’m turning into a blubbering
idiot.” She quickly wiped her tears away with her napkin.

“Don’t apologize. It’s normal to feel that way. There’s no magic formula—except time.
Time always softens the hurt. Don’t forget, it hasn’t even been a year.”

“I know.” She took a shaky breath. “I know you’re right.”

“Eat a little more, miss, or I’ll think you really hate my cooking.” His comment elicited
a smile from Lucky. He returned to his chair and poured more wine for both of them.

“Oh, another thing I meant to tell you. Rod Thibeault stopped in at the Spoonful earlier
today. He mentioned something interesting. You know Norman Rank owns a lot of property
all around, not just in town. In fact, he’s our landlord.”

“He owns the Spoonful building too?” Elias asked.

Lucky nodded. “Rod said Rowland had the town council in his pocket . . .”

“Meaning what? Bribed?”

“That was the implication. Apparently there is, or was, a plan brewing to take some
of Norman Rank’s real estate by eminent domain.”

Elias chuckled mirthlessly. “I’m sure Norman would consider that grounds for justifiable
homicide. Taken for what purpose? There has to be some benefit to the community as
a whole, doesn’t there?”

“We both know if there’s enough money floating around, developers get what they want.
Just look at that stupid car wash—case in point. But beyond that, there’s got to be
some connection between those two men—between Harry Hodges and Rowland. And maybe
it’s somehow connected to Elizabeth and to the attack on Horace.” Lucky put her fork
down and took a sip of wine. “Those two couldn’t have been more different. They led
totally different lives in different places. I keep replaying the conversation I overheard
between Harry and Pastor Wilson.”

“Maybe Harry was seeking some kind of spiritual help.”

“Completely understandable, given what you’ve told me. If Harry was dying, maybe he
did want to confess to something. And then he looked like he could jump out of his
skin when he saw me. He bolted away. The Pastor wasn’t forcing him into anything,
just letting him know the door was open when he was ready to talk about whatever was
bothering him.”

Elias was lost in thought. “Harry’s condition was terminal, as I told you. At the
most, he had maybe a few months. You suspect something criminal?”

Lucky shook her head. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine Harry Hodges doing anything criminal.
But what if he had knowledge of a crime and kept it to himself?”

“That could be what got him killed.” Elias stared at Lucky’s plate. “You’ve barely
eaten anything.”

“It’s delicious but I lost my appetite. Can I have a doggie bag?”

Elias smiled. “Only if you promise to spend the night.”

Lucky sighed. “I want to, believe me. It’s just . . . there are so many wagging tongues
in town. I have a business to run and so do you. You know how people talk.” There
was nothing she wanted more than to wake up in Elias’s arms, but she wasn’t sure what
judgments would come their way in a town as small as Snowflake, what comments would
be made about them behind their backs. It was especially true for Elias. As the only
doctor in town, he was in a far more vulnerable position. In reality, she didn’t give
a hoot what people thought, but she didn’t want anything hurting her business or Elias’s
position.

Elias reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m serious about this, Letitia
Jamieson. I want us to be together. I don’t want to wait much longer.”

She was sure a deep blush was creeping up her cheeks. “I feel the same way about you.”

“Then what’s holding you back?”

“It’s just not great timing right now, Elias. I have the restaurant to worry about
and Jack.”

“Jack would be thrilled.”

“He would. He’s really happy we’re seeing each other. But it hasn’t even been a year
since my parents died.” She detected a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. As soon
as the words were out of her mouth she realized she had used Elias’s own words against
him. Was she an idiot or what? What was keeping her from making such a commitment?
It was fear of course, but not a lack of feeling or trust in Elias. What fear though?
Fear of loss? Fear of being totally at risk? Fear of losing her independence? She
needed more time before she could give Elias a wholehearted “yes.”

He nodded. “There’s that, of course.” He pulled her from the chair. He grasped her
hair and wove his fingers through it. Smiling, he lifted her chin and kissed her slowly.
Without another word, he led her toward the staircase.

Chapter 31

A
COOL EARLY
morning breeze blew through the open windows of Lucky’s bedroom. The flowered drapes
billowed into the room bringing the heavy scent of roses from the garden below. Lucky
stretched and reluctantly came awake remembering the evening with Elias, after which
he had gallantly walked her home to her apartment door.

She was overcome with a sense of loneliness when he left to return home. She listened
to his footsteps descend the stairs, angry with herself for once again shying away
from an obvious proposal. She was overwhelmed with physical feelings she had never
experienced before. And now she was pathetically head over heels in love with him.
So what was holding her back? Elias had worked hard to achieve what he had and was
ready to settle down. But was she? Once Elias had gone, she had fallen into bed and
slept deeply for several hours until the alarm woke her.

She and Sophie went out together at first light and continued searching the smaller
roads on the same route she had undertaken the day she met Rod Thibeault. Sophie agreed
that they would stick together, particularly since cell phone service was sketchy
around the mountain. They found nothing. By the time Sophie dropped her back at her
apartment, she felt as if she had been driving for days. She set her alarm once again
and fell across her bed, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep for one more blessed
hour. But there was a heaviness in her muscles that even sleep would not cure. If
only her anxiety would abate. If only this feeling of dread would leave her. If only
her mood could match the sweetness of the world outside her windows. She pushed back
the covers and stumbled into the kitchen of her small apartment. She turned the burner
on under the kettle and sat in a kitchen chair by the window. She rubbed her temples,
feeling a low-grade headache as she waited for the kettle to come to a boil. When
it started to shriek, she turned off the burner and spooned two helpings of strong
coffee into a filter. She poured boiling water through and dropped a piece of bread
into the toaster.

Hugging the fragrant mug of coffee, she dragged her chair closer to the window. She
pushed the window halfway up, pressing her knees against the windowsill. She had a
clear view of the Victory Garden that abutted the fence behind her apartment building.
Next door, early risers were already tending their rows of vegetables. It was Elizabeth
who had been instrumental in making sure the small plots in the Garden were safeguarded
and not bulldozed by a developer. Those fortunate enough to have a few rows of vegetables
could keep what they grew. But if they harvested food in excess, they would deposit
it in baskets by the gate at the end of each day for anyone in town who might need
a few fresh vegetables. If only Elizabeth had been in a position to control Richard
Rowland’s ambitions. Now that he had been murdered, she wondered what would happen
to his construction project. Hopefully it would be abandoned and forgotten. At least
one major problem for the town would be solved.

The toasted bread popped up and Lucky grabbed the slice, dropping it onto a small
plate. She broke off a corner of the bread and sprinkled crumbs on her windowsill.
She sat back and waited, until finally the two gray doves approached. They were her
favorites. She held her breath. Staying completely still, she watched them as they
pecked at the crumbs. The larger dove she was sure was the male. He displayed bluish
coloring on the top of his head. The other bird was female, her coloring more delicate,
a soft grayish brown and tan. The male dove raised his head and scanned her sideways,
his beady eye watching carefully for any threat or sign of danger. When he was sure
that he and his mate were safe, he returned to his pickings. When the two birds had
eaten most of the crumbs, they flew away, heading for a large maple tree on the other
side of the Victory Garden. Doves mated for life, Lucky knew, as did many kinds of
birds. Was that what Elias wanted? A mate for life? What did she want and why did
she find the thought of a lifetime with someone frightening? Her parents had been
childhood sweethearts and lived a full and happy life. Were they blessed to have died
together? Never having to continue on in life without their mate? She smiled fondly,
thinking of Elizabeth—Elizabeth Dove—a woman who had never married. She was sure Elizabeth
must have had many opportunities throughout her life. Had she regretted turning suitors
away? She’d have to ask Elizabeth about that. But first she’d have to find her.

She mulled over Elias’s information from the night before. It made perfect sense that
Harry might seek counseling or feel the need to confess a secret he had held. It seemed
to fit. If he knew he was ill and close to death, did he need to confess to a sin,
or perhaps just a terrible secret? She half remembered her dream of the night before.
She was stumbling desperately through the woods when a flash of light hit her eyes.
It was the sun glinting off a metallic object, a car bumper. Twigs struck at her face
as she tried to push through the woods to reach the car. In her dream she was sure
it was Elizabeth’s car. When she reached it, she knew with an overwhelming sense of
dread that something terrible was inside the car. She walked step by step, frightened
to look but unable to turn away. As she reached the window to peer inside, she awoke
in a cold sweat, her heart pounding.

She glanced at the clock again. She had told Jack she might be late this morning and
not to worry, but still, she wanted to reach the Spoonful before the first heavy rush
of customers. She slid the screen closed and left the window open for fresh air. She
downed the rest of her coffee and rinsed out her cup. After her shower she dressed
quickly in a summer skirt and top, brushing her long fair hair into a ponytail. She
glanced in the mirror over the bureau and hesitated. She decided on a light lipstick
and a touch of eye pencil to accentuate her eyes. A year ago, it wouldn’t have occurred
to her to wear makeup, but now she was far more conscious of her appearance since
Elias was in her life.

As a kid, she would often come home with bruises and covered with dirt. She had far
more interest in capturing spiders and eels than playing with dolls. Her parents had
assumed their little girl would be feminine. She knew her mother had been terribly
disappointed when she refused to wear dresses with ruffles and little socks with embroidery
around the edges. She hadn’t understood but had handled it gracefully and with love.
Even when she insisted on being called Lucky, her mother went along with it and only
used Letitia when she was in trouble. In college, her long-suffering roommate had
insisted she take an interest in fashion and makeup. She twisted Lucky’s arm until
she agreed to go on shopping excursions and regaled her with pictures from fashion
magazines. She felt as if she were being forced to learn a foreign language. She was
still a tomboy at heart, but at least now she could dress herself better and apply
makeup without looking like a circus freak.

She grabbed her purse and keys and touched the nose of her folk art witch for good
luck. Elizabeth had given her the New England kitchen witch, carved of wood with a
black hat and straw dress, as a housewarming present when she moved into the apartment—in
an apartment building owned by Elizabeth herself. Everything that had gone right for
her had come from Elizabeth—an apartment, odds and ends of furniture, even a car.
If it hadn’t been for her mother’s best friend, things would have been so much harder,
if not impossible, when she had returned to Snowflake. She closed her eyes and said
a prayer that Elizabeth, wherever she was, would soon be found. She didn’t know what
else she could possibly do except to nag Nate, continue to search for Elizabeth’s
car and take good care of Charlie.

She rushed down the stairs and out to Maple Street, passing by the Snowflake Clinic
where Elias was seeing patients this morning. She glanced through the glass door as
she passed and saw Rosemary, the receptionist, at the front desk with a room full
of waiting patients. She waved to Rosemary through the glass and Rosemary returned
the greeting. Elias was managing to handle the patient load, but his days were difficult.
He had been casting about for another doctor to join the practice and take some of
the load off his shoulders, but so far, either no one wanted to practice in such a
small community, or many of the applicants hadn’t been qualified. Hopefully, it wouldn’t
take too much longer for him to find someone. Her reasons were partly selfish. If
Elias were able to free up his schedule they could definitely have more time together.

She took the side alley to the Spoonful and entered through the back door. She dumped
her purse in the office and grabbed a fresh apron from the closet. “Hi, Sage,” she
called as she passed the kitchen. Sage smiled and held up a slotted spoon in response.
Jack was at the cash register organizing the drawer for the day. She reached up and
kissed him on the cheek.

“How are you, Jack?”

“Couldn’t be better.” He slammed the drawer shut. “Been quiet and easy so far.”

The sun was shining through the checkered café curtains, bathing the whole room in
a golden glow. Lucky loved this room with its photographs of ski slopes and local
residents, its polished wide pine floors and now in the summer, hanging plants by
the windows.

“That’s good. Sorry I’m late. I just had to get a bit more sleep.”

“I hear you. It’s taken its toll on everyone. We just all have to keep going and volunteer
as much time as we can manage.”

Something in the kitchen smelled absolutely wonderful. Janie was at the counter. Lucky
joined her. “What am I smelling?”

“Sage won’t tell me, but I think it smells like peanut butter, don’t you? He wants
us to sample it later.”

“Ah, he’s been working on that one. I’ll take over here, Janie. Can you set the tables?”
Janie nodded and bustled off with a stack of woven place mats, napkins and silverware.

Jack moved to the counter and, grumbling, held up the front page of the
Snowflake Gazette
. “Have you seen this?”

“No. Why?”

“Such nonsense. You’d think this town was on the FBI’s most wanted list. Good thing
I told her I couldn’t talk to her.”

“Rowena’s article?”

“She should be writing soap operas if you ask me.”

“Don’t let it upset you. She’s just doing her best to be sensational.”

“Hmph,” Jack responded. “Bad enough what’s happened, but advertising it like this
isn’t very good for business,” he complained, returning to his stool behind the cash
register.

The bell over the door announced the arrival of three groups of customers. Lucky grabbed
a tray and poured several glasses of water. Janie took the tray and quickly dispensed
water and menus at each table. She passed an order slip to Lucky for drinks, and Lucky
filled orders for three glasses of iced tea, four coffees and two glasses of orange
juice for the new customers. Janie continued setting each table and then returned
to the first table to take orders.

Hank and Barry stepped in and waved to Jack and Lucky, nabbing their favorite corner.
Lucky poured two cups of coffee, adding a small pitcher of cream and a bowl of sugar
to a tray that she carried to Hank and Barry.

“Thanks, Lucky. We’ll order in a little bit. We’re gonna go out at noon with another
search party.”

“Have they found anything? Anything at all?” Lucky struggled to keep the quaver out
of her voice.

Hank shook his head. “Nothing at all. I heard you and Sophie have been searching the
roads. You think you might find Elizabeth’s car?”

“It’s a long shot but that’s what we’ve been hoping. I’d join the ground search if
I had more time away from the restaurant, but at least searching for her car is something
I can do that no one else seems to be doing.”

“Manpower’s always a problem with these things, but I gotta say, everyone’s been terrific,
donating their time. Not easy to do, especially with this heat.”

Barry started to line up chess pieces on the board. “Jack’s getting pretty good at
this game. Maybe I can teach him some more opening moves if he has a minute.”

“I’ll tell him.” She returned to the counter, wiped off the tray and slipped it onto
a shelf.

The bell over the door rang again. Marjorie and Cecily bustled in. Cecily waved to
her and hurried over to the counter.

“How are you doing, dear? You don’t look like you’re sleeping at all.”

“I am, just not very well.”

“I understand. I went out yesterday with Nate and his deputy. And Marjorie’s going
tomorrow. We can spell each other at the shop, but I know it’s hard for you with the
restaurant and all.”

“It’s unbelievable,” Marjorie said. “That someone can just disappear into thin air.
This has been a terrible summer for Snowflake. First Harry, then that dreadful developer
man and now worst of all—Elizabeth.”

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