Ladle to the Grave (A Soup Lover's Mystery Book 4) (12 page)

S
AGE STEPPED ASIDE
and held the door open. A rugged-looking man in his midforties with a weather-beaten complexion and a few days’ growth of beard stepped into the restaurant.

“Hi, Sis. I was told I’d find you here.”

Sophie stared, her eyes wide. She didn’t utter a word.

The man took long strides toward the table. He wore work boots, jeans and a green khaki jacket. His hair was dark and curly, like Sophie’s, and something about the shape of his forehead and eyes struck Lucky. The family resemblance was visible.

“You don’t seem very happy to see me.”

Sophie stood, almost knocking over her chair. “Rick!” she cried. “They told us you were dead.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I wasn’t informed.” He laughed. “What are you talking about?”

Sophie walked to him and reached out to hug her brother. He returned the affection but each of them stood slightly awkwardly, as though not sure how to respond to each other.

Sophie, remembering Sage, who stood nearby, said, “Rick, this is Sage—Sage DuBois—my fiancé. Sage, my brother Rick.” She turned and indicated Lucky. “And Lucky. You remember her, don’t you?”

Rick turned, then nodded to Lucky and shook Sage’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He gave Sage an appraising look. “And congratulations.” Rick nodded to Lucky. “I do remember you, Lucky. Nice to see you.” He took a seat at the table.

“Would you like a beer?” Sage asked.

“That’d be great. Thanks,” Rick answered. “So, Sis. What’s going on? What do you mean you thought I was dead?”

Sophie took a deep breath. “Actually, I really didn’t believe it myself. Lucky and I went up to have a look at Mom’s house and down in the creek we found . . . we found a dead guy floating in the water.”

Rick’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed. “When was this?”

“I think . . . five days ago.”

“Did you call the cops?”

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “Of course we did.”

“Do they know who he is?”

She shrugged. “No. The police came. Nate Edgerton’s the Chief of Police now; did you know that? He told us there was no identification on the body. The only thing they found on him was one of those ballpoint pens they leave in the rooms at the Resort. So they checked up there.”

“What did he look like?” Rick was completely alert now. Sage returned with a bottle of beer and a chilled glass and placed it on the table for their guest.

“That’s just it,” Lucky said. She had remained quiet until now, sizing up a man she hadn’t seen since she and Sophie were children. “His face was gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“Battered beyond recognition.” Sophie shuddered. “It was pretty awful. At first we thought maybe he was somebody who fell in farther up, you know, where the current’s stronger and just got banged around and drowned. Or maybe animals. The police don’t know much yet at all.”

Lucky could see the wheels turning behind Rick’s eyes. It was hard to believe the man sitting at the table with them was the same teenager she remembered who used to play a beat-up guitar on Sophie’s mother’s front porch.

“Why are you asking?” Lucky asked.

Rick stared at Lucky for a moment. “I haven’t been able to reach my partner for several days.”

“Your partner?” Sophie asked. “What kind of business are you in? I told Nate you were working on getting your investigator’s license, but he said he couldn’t locate you through the state listings in New York.”

“I did that for a while, true, but I never bothered to get my license. We . . . uh . . . My partner, Eddie, Eddie Fowler and I . . . We set up a small operation together.”

“To do what?” Lucky asked. Already she was feeling that his explanations were sliding away.

“We find people.”

“Like missing people?” Sophie asked.

Lucky glanced at Sage, who sat quietly, watching Rick.

“Yeah, like that—people who don’t want to be found.”

“People hiding from the law?” Lucky asked.

“Sometimes. But mostly it’s just personal stuff or family disputes like an ex-spouse that took off and stopped paying child support. The system’s so overburdened nobody has the resources to keep tracking, but we do—for private parties.”

“Is that why you’re here? Why your partner was here?”

“Sort of. I got a letter from a lawyer about Mom’s property.”

Sophie stared at her brother. “How did they find you? I don’t even have your address.”

Rick smiled. “Guess they have people who do what I do. Besides, Sis, I’m never home. I move around a lot. E-mail is best if you ever want to reach me.”

“I tried. Did you get my e-mail?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

“I got a letter from the lawyers too. I met with them today.”

“What did they have to say?” Rick’s face seemed to have closed down.

“They offered a ton of money. They’ll buy everything, but what they really want is the acreage on the other side of the hill. They want to extend a ski run.”

Rick’s jaw tightened but he didn’t speak.

“So you didn’t answer my question,” Sophie said. “Why was your partner coming here?”

“We . . . uh . . . Well, Eddie’s pretty knowledgeable about real estate. I asked him to have a look at the house and the land around it to kind of give me an idea what it’s worth.”

“Nate told us you were registered at the Resort but no one had seen you . . . or whoever was in your room for the last few days.”

Rick fell silent. “Eddie came on ahead of me. I couldn’t get away and I’m supposed to meet him here.”

Lucky and Sage exchanged a glance. “You think he went out to have a look at the property, Rick?” Lucky asked.

Rick nodded. “I hope to hell that wasn’t him you found in the creek.” He looked at Sophie. “You say Nate Edgerton’s the Chief of Police now?”

Sophie nodded.

“I remember him. I’ll go see him first thing in the morning.”

“Was he registered at the Resort under your name?” Lucky asked.

Rick shot a look across the table. “I, uh, I made a reservation after I got the letter from the lawyers, but then I had to finish up a job. Eddie was planning to come with me, but he decided to go on ahead until I could catch up.”

No one spoke. Lucky was sure they all shared the same thought. If Rick’s partner went out to the property and met his end, and he was staying in the room Rick had reserved, what were the odds the man in the creek was Rick’s missing partner?

“So what do you think, Rick?” Sophie got right to the point. “Sage and I want to make you an offer for your share of the house and the land around it. I want the fireplace that Granddad built. I don’t want to see it bulldozed for a ski run or cabins. We can sell them the other land. That’s what they really want—another ski run.”

“Uh-uh.” Rick shook his head. “I don’t think I want to sell that.”

“What? Why not?” Sophie’s voice had risen.

“I’d just like to hang on to that.” Sophie’s face fell. Rick stood and nodded to Sage. “Thanks for the beer. I’ll see you around, Sis.”

“Wait,” Sophie said. “We need to talk about this. Where are you staying?”

“Up there.” He indicated the general direction of the Resort. “I’ll be in touch.” Rick turned away and unlocked the front door. He shut it firmly behind him and disappeared in the night.

Sophie sat, a stunned look on her face. Lucky and Sage waited for her to speak.

“He’s always been like that. Here one second, gone the next. But I’m not gonna let him get away with it, not this time,” she vowed.

L
UCKY PICKED UP
the boxes she had left on the living room floor the night before and stacked them in the hallway closet. She planned to organize them when she had more time, maybe after the wedding. Some of them tugged at her heart and brought up so many memories. Photographs could freeze a moment in time and bring it back so sharply it hurt, moments that would otherwise be lost to memory.

She wiggled the table leg gently. It seemed to be holding firm. She righted the coffee table and spread the Warner photos across the surface. It was too much of a coincidence that not one face was clear in any of the pictures. Either one of the two adults moved at the right moment to blur the photo, or one of them stood in the way to block the picture.

Her doorbell rang. She jumped involuntarily. She wasn’t expecting anyone and her only visitors at night were either Sophie or Elias. But she knew Sophie was at home tonight and Elias was in Lincoln Falls seeing patients and might stay there overnight. She walked to the hallway and called out, “Who is it?”

“House call.” She heard Elias’s voice. Laughing, she hurried down the hallway to open the door.

He stepped over the threshold and enveloped her in a hug.

“I thought you’d be at the hospital tonight.”

“I did too, but I managed to get away early.”

“Have you had a chance to eat?”

“I’m fine. I’m hungry only for you.” He made a fierce growling sound and pretended to gnaw on her shoulder until she collapsed in laughter.

“You are a silly man!”

“Silly about you,” he replied, smiling, showing the dimple in his chin that Lucky loved.

“Come on in. I’ll pour you a glass of wine.”

“That would be very welcome. Thanks.”

Elias shrugged off his jacket and slung it over a chair in the living room. Lucky returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses of red wine. She sat next to Elias on the sofa and they clinked their glasses together.

“What’s all this?” he asked, indicating the array of photographs.

“I haven’t had a chance to tell you about this. They came from a box that was up in Horace’s attic. I picked the boxes up the other day. One of them was full of photos my mother used to take at the Spoonful. But these—the ones you see here—were in an envelope and they’re all of the Warners from years ago.”

Elias picked up one of the photos.

“Notice anything strange about these?” she asked, not wanting to plant her suspicions in his head.

“Your mother took these for the restaurant? Is this the dead woman and her husband?”

Lucky nodded. “And their grandson, Mike.”

“Well, these must have been the rejects because no one is exactly smiling or looking at the camera. Are there any others?”

“This is all there is. Notice anything else?”

“Hmm.” Elias leafed through the photographs. “Someone is either turned away or looking down or standing in front of the boy. Is that what you meant?”

“Yes. My mother used to ask people to look up and smile at the camera. She was always looking for great photos to hang on the wall. I’m sure she did the same here, but they obviously ignored her.”

One of the photos slid off the end of the table. Elias reached down to retrieve it. He turned it over and saw the date on the back of the picture. “Date mean anything?”

“No. Not that I can recall, and none of the others in the box were dated. But a few of these are. These dates are all within the same month. And one of the dates has an exclamation mark after it.”

Elias leaned back on the sofa and pulled her close. “Uh-oh. I know that look. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Agnes and her husband didn’t want to be photographed. I’m thinking they were keeping their identities secret.”

“Lucky, I know you’re concerned about Jack—that he might have made a mistake.”

“Jack didn’t make a mistake. I’m sure of that.”

Elias took a deep breath but didn’t respond.

“What? What’s that big sigh about?” she demanded.

“Look. I came by tonight because we need to talk.”

She felt her stomach clench in a knot. This didn’t sound good. “Okay,” she finally said.

“The autopsy was completed. Agnes Warner died of a heart attack. She had severe arteriosclerosis and occlusion of the coronary artery.”

“Well.” Lucky breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good news, isn’t it?”

Elias watched her face carefully. “The cardiac event could have happened at any time, but the apparent immediate reaction indicates it was brought on by what she drank. The stomach contents were examined carefully and they’ve found traces of what they believe might be a toxin. They haven’t identified it yet.

“A poison? I don’t understand.”

“Many plants are poisonous; some contain alkaloid poisons. They’re still going over everything: the wine, the utensils, just trying to narrow down what it might be. It’s a difficult job if they don’t know what they’re looking for.”

Lucky felt her heart sink. “That couldn’t be. Jack knows his plants. He couldn’t have made a mistake like that!”

“I certainly hope you’re right. I just wanted to tell you first before you or Jack heard from Nate.”

Lucky put her head in her hands. “I can’t believe this. Jack will be devastated.” Suddenly she looked up. “Could Jack be charged with anything?”

“That I don’t know. The question is, did the contents of the wine cause the heart attack? Would someone else who drank that wine have remained unaffected? Still more questions to answer. There might have to be a hearing or an inquest. No one would suspect Jack of anything premeditated. At worst, it’s a case of a mistake leading to an unfortunate death. It does happen. People have died from botulism eating badly preserved foods prepared by a loving relative.” Elias continued, “I just wanted to tell you myself. Nate will probably get the autopsy report tomorrow at the earliest. Identifying the exact toxin will take longer.”

“Poor Jack. He’s been depressed enough already, but this could send him into a tailspin.”

Elias pulled her close and held her in his arms.

“Can you stay with me tonight?” she asked. For the longest time it was she who had been unwilling to spend the night with Elias at either his house or her apartment, afraid of wagging tongues and any gossip that would hurt his reputation most of all. But tonight she knew she didn’t want to be alone.

“Of course, if you want me to.”

“Elias, if anything was wrong with that wine the women brewed, then somebody had to have tampered with Jack’s basket of herbs. He would never have made that kind of mistake. This goes way beyond an accident or an allergic reaction.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“What if one of those women knew Agnes would be the first person to drink? Maybe somebody wanted her dead.”

“Or somebody wanted all of them dead.”

Lucky groaned. “I can’t think about this anymore. I’ll have to worry about it tomorrow.” She sighed and leaned against his shoulder. “Just hold me in your arms tonight.”