Ladle to the Grave (A Soup Lover's Mystery Book 4) (24 page)

Leonard nodded. “I get it. I get it. You take care of your friends and look the other way when an innocent person like my wife dies. Don’t worry. I’m on my way, Mr. Chief of Police, but I’m not finished with him.” He nodded in the general direction of the restaurant where Jack sat, then stormed away.

Nate didn’t reply but watched Leonard carefully.

Lucky breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Nate. I’m really glad you came along when you did. Jack can’t take much more. He’s doing a good job on himself as it is. He doesn’t need this. It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.” Nate shook his head. “I feel bad for Leonard but I’m not gonna be bulldozed, no matter how angry the guy is. He’s been down at the station every day lobbying for Jack to be placed under arrest.”

“He’s what?” Lucky was struck dumb.

“You heard me. But don’t say anything to Jack. Frankly, I think old Leonard might be going a little off the beam right now. Understandable. He wants to blame somebody and Jack’s an easy target, but until those results are confirmed, I’m not doing anything about it—for now.”

“Come on in, Nate.” Lucky looked behind her. Several customers had noticed the altercation and were staring out the window as she spoke to Nate.

“Don’t need to ask me twice. I’m starving.” Nate put a hand on her shoulder. “And you give me a call if anything else happens. If Leonard comes back and tries to threaten you or Jack, you call me right away.”

“Don’t worry, I will. He’s really starting to scare me.” She turned and entered the restaurant with Nate following in her wake.

“
W
HAT’S THIS COSTING
you, my girl?” Jack asked.

Lucky shrugged. “It’s not bad, really. The material for Sophie’s dress and veil and the tulle for the gazebo was super reasonable. The harpist is charging a flat fee, and I think she’ll be worth it. She’s wonderful and the music will be so romantic. She’ll wheel her harp in and I think we should put her on the deck ’cause it’s a good solid surface. She’s agreed to play for an hour before the ceremony and as Sophie walks to the gazebo. Then she’ll play for about half an hour after the ceremony while everyone’s milling around.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “Everyone?”

“Well, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Lucky watched her grandfather carefully. She took a deep breath. “You see, for the past week or so, I’ve discovered that lots of people are convinced they’re invited.”

“Like who? I thought Sophie wanted just a private ceremony?”

“She did, but now I think she’s accepted the fact that maybe the guest list needs to be extended.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“Marjorie and Cecily are looking forward to it. So are Hank and Barry. They’ve all asked what they should wear and what presents Sophie and Sage might like. Then Horace asked my opinion about his suit. They haven’t even asked if they’re invited. They’ve all just assumed they are. And Bradley asked if he could bring a guest. And if Bradley is coming, we really should invite Nate and Susanna. It’s so hard to draw the line.”

“I can understand that. Everybody loves Sage’s cooking at the restaurant and Sophie too.”

“Then Pastor Wilson is under the impression he’s supposed to officiate. Plus a few friends of Sophie’s from work. And then . . .” Lucky hesitated. Jack looked at her sharply. “Flo Sullivan told me she was waiting for her invitation.” Lucky cringed inwardly.

Jack groaned. “Oh no. Not Flo.”

“I just didn’t know what to tell people. And I’m convinced other people will stop in after the ceremony just to wish the newlyweds well. Everybody knows it’s happening at your house. Who knows?” Lucky continued. “What I’m thinking about, if it’s okay with you, is we should maybe rent one of those dance floors and hire musicians.”

“That’s gonna be expensive, isn’t it?”

“Not cheap, but it’ll give people something to do and it could really be fun. I found a trio of musicians that hire out for small events. Their fee isn’t bad at all and I’ve called a rental company for the dance floor. I can pay for that, no worries. Besides, however Elias and you and I split the rest of the costs, it’s our joint wedding present to them.”

“But how are we gonna feed all these people?”

“Sage said not to worry. He’s taking care of all the food and drinks and champagne. We can set up a huge buffet in your dining room. I’m sure Sage knows what he’s doing. He has warming trays and all the accessories, so he can get everything set up earlier and then just enjoy the party. I just hope this is okay with you.”

“Well, I think it’s nice that all these people want to be part of it. I have no objection. Just one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You make sure you stay until Flo’s gone home. You can’t leave until I’m safe.”

Lucky laughed. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

F
OR NO REASON
she could quite put her finger on, Lucky woke the following morning with a heavy feeling in her chest. Was she worried? Yes, definitely. Two people were dead. Her neighbor was more than likely connected in some fashion to the dead woman. And her best friend’s life might be in danger. Her muscles still ached from the accident. Her neck was stiff, and she could feel the groaning of her wrenched muscles. Jack was a nervous wreck, and the confrontation with Leonard Warner the day before at the restaurant certainly hadn’t helped. Talking about the wedding plans last night seemed to cheer him up a bit but it felt as if every way she turned, her path was blocked. No firm results were in from the toxicology examination. Or if they were, no one was sharing the information with her. Jack still blamed himself and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. The only thing she had learned was that Emily thought Greta was supposed to be the first to drink the wine. Lucky definitely needed to talk to Cordelia to confirm that Emily’s memory of the night in the woods was accurate. Cordelia would know, but the thought of going back to talk to Cordelia Rank seemed overwhelming right now.

To add to her frustration, Rick wasn’t willing to share the name of his client. Sophie still couldn’t get a straight answer from her brother as to why he refused to sell the land. No matter what she had attempted to accomplish, she didn’t feel she was any further along the path. And perhaps just as important, she still had no solid idea why her mother had taken so many photos of the Warners years before.

Lucky dragged herself out of bed and headed for the kitchen to make a cup of coffee before starting her day. Once the coffee was ready, she flicked on the computer in the living room. Rick and Eddie had been hired to find Alice Washburn. Was Alice Washburn the real reason Eddie Fowler had come to Snowflake? And if so, why? His client had lied to him. He had discovered there was more to the story. If Agnes Warner really was Alice Washburn, had Eddie tried to warn her? Most important, who was his client?

When the screen came to life, she typed “Alice Washburn” into the search engine. She heard the kettle screaming in the kitchen and ran down the hall to turn off the stove. She poured the boiling water through a filter and swirled it around to make it go through faster. She added a little cream to the mug and carried it back to the living room.

She hit the enter key and waited. When the screen came to life, she scrolled down. A news article appeared highlighting the name “Washburn.” She clicked on it. A
Boston Globe
story from five years earlier popped up. A woman named Margaret Washburn was being investigated after the death of her husband from a drug overdose. Farther down, the same name appeared in a Cleveland newspaper article. Margaret Washburn had been indicted for the possession and sale of illegal substances. Lucky read both articles, but no photos appeared. This still wasn’t anyone named Alice Washburn. She searched again and a longer article appeared in an Albany, New York, paper, again dated five years earlier. Margaret Washburn was the daughter-in-law of Alice and Lionel Washburn. She had been married to their son, Matthew Washburn.

Lucky shook her head. Alice Washburn. Agnes Warner? And Lionel and Leonard? Could it possibly be? Or just a coincidence? Was this the same Alice Washburn that Rick had been hired to locate? She was sure lots of people were called Washburn. She herself didn’t know any, but it seemed a fairly common name. For all she knew, there could be millions of Washburns across the country and maybe hundreds even in Vermont. She continued to search but the name “Alice Washburn” didn’t turn up again.

She leaned back in the chair and rubbed her eyes. She pushed an envelope aside that had come in the mail the day before. She glanced at her address. Thirty-two Maple Street. Three and two were five. What would Penny the potter say about that number? She took another sip of coffee and let her mind wander. She pictured the white-haired woman in the potter’s shed. “
Everything’s connected
,” she had said. Colors and numbers, animals and humans. Two murders. Were they connected? One woman who was perhaps poisoned in the woods, a woman who appeared to lead a blameless life with no known enemies. A man, a private investigator of sorts, murdered with attempts to make the body hard to identify. Could these two deaths be connected? The man in the creek was Eddie Fowler, a partner of Rick Colgan. Was Eddie in Snowflake to warn Alice Washburn or to find his mystery client? Checking out Sophie’s mother’s land couldn’t be the only reason Eddie had volunteered to come. Was Peter Manko, the security guard, involved, as Rick was certain? Could he have been their mystery client? And why had Greta stolen one of the photos? Greta—wasn’t Greta a nickname for Margaret? Could that possibly be? Was Greta their mystery client?

Rick had learned that Eddie had investigated their client, worried about the repercussions of revealing the whereabouts of Alice Washburn. If Agnes Warner was really Alice Washburn, then both she and Eddie were now dead. That must be the connection, she thought. Who would have had a motive to kill both of them?

S
OPHIE SAT IN
the passenger seat while Lucky drove. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming with me. This isn’t easy for me.” Sophie had decided to make one last effort to pin her brother down before he left town. Her hands were shaking slightly. She looked frightened.

Lucky reached over and grasped her hand. “It’s going to be all right, Sophie. Whatever happens, you and Sage will find the home you’re meant to have.”

“I know that. Logically, I know that.” She giggled suddenly, a hysterical giggle. “Maybe I can have the chimney moved if things don’t work out.”

Lucky smiled in response. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Sophie wiped tears from her eyes. “Just the thought of me and Sage with a sledgehammer, knocking down that beautiful fireplace and carting it somewhere else.”

“Come on. Let’s get this over with.” Lucky climbed out of the car. She didn’t relish the prospect of confronting Rick Colgan once more, but she had no choice in the matter. She planned to stay back while Sophie talked to her brother, a benevolent observer, a friend.

They entered through the front entrance. A different woman was at the reception desk today. She smiled in anticipation, but Sophie ignored her and headed for the elevator, with Lucky following in her wake. She pressed the button and the elevator door opened instantly.

“Do you know which room he’s in?”

Sophie nodded. “I called Mary to check. They moved him after Nate came up here, after we discovered Eddie’s body.”

The elevator opened on the third floor. The corridor stretched in each direction and Sophie turned to the left, glancing quickly at each door as she passed. Finally, she reached number 315 and knocked on the door. A stiff paper sign requesting privacy hung on the door handle. They heard shuffling and then the door was flung open.

“I said I didn’t want . . .” Rick’s words died on his lips. “Sophie!”

“Can we talk?”

Rick glanced at Lucky and walked back into the room. “Everybody wants to talk to me. How interesting.” They followed in his wake. “What is it now?” He sat heavily in the chair by the desk. A full duffel bag rested on the unused bed. Rick was ready to leave. “Is this about the house again?”

“Rick, I just want a firm answer from you about it. And . . . you said you can locate people.” Sophie took a deep breath. “I really want you to find Dad.”

Rick’s eyebrows rose, and a flush crept up his neck. “Uh-uh. I don’t want to do that.”

“But why?” Sophie pleaded. “I’m getting married in a week. He’s your father too. Why won’t you do this for me?”

“If you’re gonna be stubborn about this, I can’t stop you. You’re free to hire somebody, just not me. I don’t have any interest in finding the old bastard.”

“How can you call him that? He was wonderful.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “You know nothing. You were a baby when he . . . left.”

“Rick, why are you taking off? I thought you wanted to get to the bottom of your partner’s murder?” Lucky asked.

“I’m pretty sure I know who did it and why. I’ve turned over everything I know to Nate. It’s up to him now.” He watched Sophie carefully. “If that’s it, Sis, I’m taking off. I’ll be in touch.” He rose and grabbed the duffel and walked out the door, dropping his key card on the table.

Sophie collapsed on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. Lucky was at a loss for words. “Can you believe him? He won’t look for our father, he won’t give me a firm yes or no about the house and he won’t sell the other parcels.” She shook her head.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do, Sophie.”

“Oh no.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not leaving it. He’s not gonna leave me like this with no answers.” She jumped up and headed out the door. Her move took Lucky by surprise and she ran after Sophie, who had jumped in the elevator. She barely managed to slide in before the doors closed. She wasn’t sure if she should counsel Sophie to calm down or just keep her mouth shut and stay out of the way.

When the elevator doors opened at the lobby level, they spotted Rick standing under the awning of the front entrance. They hurried to catch up with him. By the time they reached him, he was halfway across the almost empty parking lot.

Sophie ran and grabbed his arm. “You are
not
leaving like this.”

Rick pulled his arm away and turned to face her, a look of fury on his face. “What the hell . . .”

“I want answers, Rick. You are not gonna drive away and leave like this, not anymore.” Sophie’s voice had risen.

Lucky took in a sharp breath. She could have sworn Rick’s first instinct was to strike out at Sophie.

He pulled himself under control. “I am leaving, Sis.”

“No!” Sophie screamed and began to pound on his chest. “I want you to come clean with me. Why won’t you sell that land? Why won’t you look for Dad? Why?” Tears were streaming down her face.

A frightened look passed across Rick’s face. He backed away and stumbled. He seemed to collapse in upon himself, growing smaller. Lucky saw a flash of the young man he had once been as he realized the extent of Sophie’s pain. His shoulders slumped; his arms hung limply at his sides. He was silent for several moments, then spoke quietly. “’Cause there’s no point, Sis.” His eyes held a pitying look.

Sophie grew still. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

“He’s dead.” A gust of wind seemed to pull the words from him.

Sophie stared at her brother for a long time. “Dead.”

Rick stood stock still. Lucky felt she didn’t dare to breathe.

Sophie’s face blanched. “How do you know that?”

“Because I buried him. I buried him on the other side of the hill.”

Sophie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

Rick waited.

Finally, she spoke. “How? How did he die?” She could barely choke out the words. Lucky had to strain to hear.

“It was Mom.”

Sophie’s face blanched.

“Mom did it. She finally fought back. After all those beatings, she finally had enough. She went crazy. He turned his back to her and she picked up a hammer.” Rick’s voice started to choke. He sobbed. “I couldn’t believe my eyes, Sis. She wouldn’t stop. Even after he fell to the floor, she got down on her knees and kept hitting him in the face and the head. I had to pull her away.”

“No,” Sophie wailed, a sound that seemed to come from deep within her. Lucky was stunned. She watched helplessly.

“I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think she saw it coming. When I got her away, it was too late. I could tell he was dead.”

“Don’t say this!” Sophie screamed. She held her hands up as if to ward off a blow.

“You know what the worst of it was? I was rooting for her. That’s the feeling I had. It was so strange, like I was watching something from a long distance away. It wasn’t until I pulled her off that it hit me what had just happened. I’ve thought about it a lot all these years. She and I, we just stood there and stared at him and the blood all over the kitchen.”

Sophie started to shake. “And the others?”

“They didn’t know; they weren’t there when it happened. But I think they knew. They never asked.” Rick’s face was haunted. “Don’t look at me like that. What the hell was I supposed to do? Turn in the one decent parent I had? I was just a kid. You were a baby. We had to survive.” Rick sighed. “He’s buried under the old white oak that was struck by lightning. You remember that one? It seemed like a good place to put him, under a dead tree. That’s why I didn’t want to sell that land.” Rick reached out to touch Sophie’s cheek gently. “I can’t do this anymore.” He turned and walked away to his car, climbed in and drove away without a backward look. Lucky and Sophie stood and watched him go. Then Lucky put her arms around Sophie and held her while she sobbed.