4 Cupids Curse (10 page)

“Did he seem to have any contact with his old
crowd?”

“Not as far as I know. The man kept to himself
.”

“So you can’t think of anyone he might have hung out with socially?”

“Not a single person.”

“Do you know where Trent was incarcerated?”

“No, I don’t. Just so you know,” Kevin informed me, “Sheriff Salinger asked me all these same questions. I’m guessing he has access to information I don’t. Maybe you should ask him what he found out about Trent’s past.”

“Oh
, yeah, that’ll go over well. Can you think of anything else at all?”

“Not really. He was a hard worker and seemed to be a good guy. It
’s a real shame something like this happened after he’d gone to so much effort to start over again.”

“Did Trent ever mention a family? Perhaps a sister?”

Kevin frowned. He tried to control his expression, but I was certain he’d momentarily conveyed something I can only describe as concern. “No, he never mentioned family. In fact, I’m pretty sure he mentioned being an only child.”

I took out my phone and showed Kevin the photo of Martucci. “Do you know this man?”

I noticed the tightening of Kevin’s jaw as his level of stress seemed to increase. “I don’t really know him, but I did speak to him the other day. Is he mixed up in Trent’s murder?”

“Maybe. Can you tell me what you talked about?”

“He asked if I knew a guy by the name of Joey Marino. I told him that I didn’t. He described the man he was looking for and I suspected he might be describing Trent, but I didn’t say as much. I knew Trent had been trying to leave his old life behind, and the guy I spoke to had that look about him.”

“Look?”

“Like he was in the Mob or something. He had on the strangest clothes, which I suspect he believed would help him to blend in but instead made him stand out.”

“Black
shirt with brass buttons?” I guessed.

“Exactly.”

“So what did you say to him?”

“I told him I had no idea who this Joey was
, and he insisted that it appeared I was lying. I didn’t take kindly to the accusation and told him so. He was obviously angry, but he left without things becoming physical.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No. He did tell me that he was staying at the River Ranch Motor Inn. In case I remembered anything that might help him.”

“
Thanks for your help.” I turned to leave. “One last thing: did Trent ever mention someone named Reenie?”

“No. Never. Now I really need to get back
to work.”

“Okay
. Thanks again.”

I know this is going to sound nuts, but at that moment, I really thought the best idea was for me to pay our suspected killer a little visit.

The drive to the outskirts of town was beautiful as the branches of the evergreen trees that line
d the road drooped under the weight of freshly fallen snow. It looked like the county plow had made a single run, leaving a thick sheet of ice on the narrow road. Luckily, not only is my truck a four-wheel drive, it’s a four-wheel monster that was normally able to plow its way through even the deepest drifts of snow.

The River Ranch Motor Inn
, a run-down motel most often frequented by hunters, is located at the end of an isolated rutted dirt road that, today, was covered with snow. Most of the time, the owner keeps the drive plowed, but from time to time the path becomes impassable. Normally, the River Ranch closes for the winter months, but I suspected that with the influx of skiers we’d had since the opening of the new resort on the west shore of the lake, the motivation to keep the facility open had increased.

I pulled under the overhang
that shielded the front door from the worst of the weather. Luckily, the lot had been plowed down to the thick red mud of the dirt surface. I wasn’t thrilled about picking my way through it, and told Charlie to stay as I slid out of the truck and made my way carefully to the office. The lobby was deserted, but the sound of a television in the background led me to believe someone was around.

“Hello,” I shouted loud enoug
h to be heard in the back room. I waited as an elderly man let out a curse before muting the action thriller he’d been watching.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a friend who’s staying here. His name is Anthony Martucci.”

The man looked me up and down
, as if deciding whether or not to give me the information I’d requested. “He expecting you?”

“No,
but I’m a friend. I heard he was in town and wanted to surprise him.”

The man seemed to consider my request
, then shrugged. “Room twelve. Last door on the left side of the building. He might not take kindly to your visit, though. He paid for a week in advance and asked not to be disturbed. He even requested not to have maid service. To be honest, I don’t think he’s left his room in days.”

“Thank you for the heads
-up. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to knock on the door. After a week, he might be ready for some company.” I smiled and retreated into the cold. I decided to pull my truck around to the empty parking spot in front of room 10. The only other car in the lot was a blue sedan parked in front of Martucci’s room. If I had to guess, that car most likely belonged to Martucci, indicating that he was indeed in residence. I got out of my truck, being careful to step over the worst of the muddy puddles, and then wiped my feet on the cement walkway as I knocked on the door. As I stood there waiting, it suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea what I was going to say if the man answered. Have I mentioned that I tend to be a bit impulsive, and, more often than not, that tendency seems to get me in trouble?

I waited for over a minute and had pretty much decided to leave when I realized that the sound of the movie the desk clerk had been watching could clearly be heard from where I stood. It was possible the sound was coming from the room next door
, but since the place seemed to be deserted, I knocked once again. After several seconds, I tried the doorknob, which turned easily. Against my own better judgment, I opened the door and stepped inside.

Anthon
y Martucci was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Based on the level of decomposition, I was willing to bet he’d been dead for quite some time.

The blizzard had died down to a flurry the next morning, so Charlie and I went out for a snowshoe. I love the forest after a storm. The branches of the evergreens surrounding the boathouse hung low with the weight of their burden, the fresh snow turning the landscape into a clean, crisp white. I live on an isolated cove, so the snow on the beach was unmarred by tracks as Charlie and I struggled to plow through the deep drifts.

As hard as I tried
, I couldn’t get the image of Martucci’s lifeless eyes out of my head. I’d seen dead bodies before; more than would seem normal, I had to confess. But Martucci was the only murder victim I’d come across who was staring back with sunken eyes. It appeared that he’d been hit over the head with something heavy enough to crush the back of his skull. Then he’d fallen forward, after which someone—I assume the killer—had turned him over onto his back.

According to Salinger
, the man had been dead for several days. He was waiting for an official autopsy, but the sheriff was willing to speculate that if Martucci had been involved in Trent’s murder,
he
must have been killed later the same night. I realized that it was going to be hard to prove that a dead man killed Trent, and probably even harder to figure out who killed the killer. My money was still on Blythe being involved in some way, but according to pretty much everyone I talked to, I was alone in my suspicion.

I hadn’t planned to travel far due to the difficulty of navigating the fresh powder
, but before I even realized where I was headed, I found myself standing at the back of Zak’s mansion. Things between us had continued to be strange. Dinner the previous evening had been nice. The food was good, the atmosphere romantic, yet somehow I couldn’t help but wish we’d been eating sandwiches at Zak’s kitchen counter. I could tell he was trying to be an attentive companion, sharing funny stories over dinner, which was followed by slow dancing to seductive music. By anyone’s standards, the night had been magical. So why, I had to ask myself, had Zak declined my invitation to stay the night? I’d suffered a sleepless night, with images of dead men in my dreams, and I really needed someone with whom I could share my thoughts and feelings.

I was about to turn around
to head back home when I saw a light come on in the kitchen. Based on the height of the figure walking in front of the drawn blinds, the person rummaging for breakfast wasn’t Zak. I knew before I even started toward the back deck that I was going to regret my rash behavior, but as I’ve already pointed out, no one has ever accused me of being anything less than impulsive.

I peeked in through
a kitchen window that didn’t have a blind pulled all the way down. I was greeted by the backside of a small woman dressed in black tights with her head buried deep in the refrigerator.

“Zak,”
she called, “are those cartons of yogurt you bought gone?”

I frowned at the voice
. She sounded an awful lot like . . . “Mom?” I gasped as the woman emerged from the depths of the refrigerator. She turned around and faced the window I was peering through. I’m not sure exactly what happened after that, but the next thing I knew, I was lying on Zak’s sofa and a very concerned Charlie was licking my face.

“Zoe
, are you okay?” Zak asked as he stroked my hair.

“What happened?” I aske
d as I struggled to sit up.

“You passed out. It’s a good thing Charlie started barking
or we might not have known you were out on the deck. You could have frozen to death.”

We?
And then I remembered. “My mother is here,” I accused.

“I know. I wanted to tell you.”

“And she’s
pregnant
! How could you?” I put my hand to my head as my dizziness returned.

“I wanted to tell you
.” Zak held me in his arms. “I almost did several times, but your mom didn’t want you to know she was here until she had time to figure everything out. She made me promise not to tell.”

“Well
, I should guess so.” I pulled away from Zak. “How could you hide my mother from me?”

“I’m sorry
, but it’s a complicated situation.”

“Complicated
?” I yelled. “You think this is complicated?”

“Look
, I know you’re upset that I didn’t tell you your mom was here, but now that you know, we can sit down and talk things out.”

“You’ve been sleeping with my
mother
and you want to
talk
about it?”

“What?” Zak looked shocked. “I’m not sleeping with your mother. God
, Zoe. How could you even suggest such a thing?”

“She’s staying in your house. You’ve been lying about it.
And
she’s pregnant,” I pointed out.

“The baby isn’t mine,” Zak informed me. “I can’t believe you’d think it was.”

He looked hurt. Maybe I’d been just a tiny bit rash in my assumptions.

“Then whose is it?”

Zak hesitated. “I think that’s a question you should ask your mom. She went upstairs to change. She got soaking wet when she rushed out to help you after you passed out. I didn’t want her to get chilled.”

I looked at Zak. He seemed both hurt and sincere. Suddenly
, I felt like an idiot. I’m not sure if it was the stress or some sort of delayed relief, but I started to cry. Zak picked me up and carried me upstairs. He helped me to peel off my wet clothes, wrapped me in a robe several sizes too big for me, then walked with me back downstairs, where my mother was waiting.

I had no idea what to say to
a woman about whom I’d harbored so many conflicting emotions, so I didn’t say anything as I walked across the room and wrapped my arms around her. We both cried, sharing an embrace without words until, eventually, I pulled back and looked her in the face.

“You’re pregnant,” I stated the obvious.

“Yeah.” She looked uncertain.

I smiled. “I’m going to be a big sister.”

Mom smiled back. “I guess you are.”

We hugged again as Zak set coffee and fresh muffins on the table.

“Why did you keep this a secret?” I asked. “I would have understood. These things happen, and you were engaged.” Prior to her visit last summer, my mom had been planning to marry the prince of some small country I’d never heard of.

“The baby doesn’t belong to the prince,” my mom informed me.

“Not the snowboard developer?” I groaned. Mom had only known him a short time.

“No, not him either.”

“Then who?”

My mom blushed
, and suddenly I knew.

“Dad,” I realized.

My mom looked down at her hands.

“But how?” I asked. “I don’t mean
how
. I know
that
.” Now I was blushing. “What I mean is why? No, not why.” I looked at Zak. “Help me out here.”

“Let’s sit down,” Zak suggested.

He led Mom and me over to one of the three sofas arranged around the two-story fireplace. After we settled in, I waited for Mom to speak. She seemed to be working up her courage to tell her story, which I was certain was going to be an emotional roller coaster for both of us.

“After becoming engaged to Rafael,”
Mom began—I later learned that was the name of her prince—“I started thinking about my life. I was only eighteen when I became pregnant with you, and I let my parents convince me that having a child would ruin my life. When your dad wanted to adopt you, it seemed easy to let him do it. I always loved you,” Mom assured me. “From the first moment I held you in my arms and looked into your eyes, I knew we’d always be bonded on some level, but I also knew I could never be the mother you deserved. So I gave you to your father and went away.”

I had so many questions
, but I decided it was best to let Mom tell the story in her own way.

“I know it may not appear th
at way,” she continued, “but I’ve always loved your father. I’ve traveled the world and had many exotic love affairs, but every night when I’d wish upon a star, it was his face I’d see in my mind.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I was scared. I didn’t want to risk destroying the fantasy I’d created by requiring it to stand up to the test of reality, so I spent my years dreaming about a love I was too scared to subject to possible rejection. After I got engaged to Rafael, I decided I couldn’t go through with the wedding until I knew for certain. So I came back to Ashton Falls and knocked on your dad’s door.”

“He must have been shocked
.” I smiled.

“Shocked is putting it mildly.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. I walked into his arms, he kissed me, and your baby sister was conceived. Neither of us said a single word until after
ward.”

“And then?”

“Then I guess reality checked in. Your dad told me that while my showing up on his doorstep was the subject of every fantasy he’d ever had, he didn’t know if he could put himself out there again. We talked and decided to see each other but take it slow. I rented a little house at the beach and we began dating. We agreed not to tell you that I was back until we were certain it was going to work out.”

“You left
,” I accused.

“I found out I was pregnant and panicked. I’m not making any excuses. I handled the whole thing badly. I went to my parents
’ place in Switzerland and tried to figure out what I was going to do.”

“And?
”

“After much soul
-searching, I decided to keep the baby. I decided I wanted to be part of this daughter’s life in a way I never had been part of yours. I also realized that your father had a right to know his daughter as well, so I decided to come back and talk things out with him.”

“So why are you here?” I asked. “At Zak’s house? Why aren’t you with
Dad? I assume he doesn’t know?”

“When I got here
, I found out he was involved with another woman,” Mom explained. “I didn’t know what to do, so I called Zak, and he agreed to let me stay here until I figured things out.”

“Why Zak? I wasn’t aware you even knew each other.”

“We’re business partners. We actually talk quite often.”

“Business partners?” I frowned.
Then, “The Zoo,” I realized. “You’re the silent partner in the Zoo. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know
.” Mom smiled sadly. “When I heard what Zak planned to do, I knew I wanted to be part of it. Being a part owner in the Zoo made me feel close to you in a strange sort of way. I didn’t want to complicate things by making my involvement public, so Zak and I agreed on a silent partnership. In the course of working through the legalities, we’ve become friends.”

I put my head in my hands and tried to process everything. I found that I was thrilled to have my mom back in my life
, and excited to know that I was going to finally
have the sibling I’d always longed for. At the same time, I had an overwhelming feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t quite identify.

“We have to tell
Dad,” I insisted.

“I don’t want to mess up his relationship with Blythe. He’s a good man. He deserves his hea
rt’s desire.”

“Blythe is evil
,” I insisted. “Maybe if Dad knows about you and the baby, he’ll break up with that witch and I won’t have to worry about her ax-murdering him in his sleep.”

“What?” Mom looked at Zak.

“I’m afraid the situation isn’t as clear-cut as Zoe makes it sound,” Zak explained. “There’s been a murder in town, and Zoe is convinced Blythe is mixed up in it in some way, but as far as I can tell, the evidence is far from conclusive.”

“The woman does have a strange aura,” Mom contributed.

“Ha!” I pointed at Zak, thrilled that
someone
other than me saw the woman for what she really was. “Wait,” I added. “How do you know about her aura? Have you seen her?”

“From a distance,” Mom admitted
.

Zak didn’t actually say anything
, but I could tell by the look on his face that he realized he was in for an uphill battle now that both Mom and I distrusted the witch.

“What if Zoe is right?” Mom asked.

“It seems unlikely at this point,” Zak answered.

“But what
if she’s right? If we look into it and she’s wrong, no harm. If we assume she’s wrong and she’s not, Hank could be in real
trouble.”

“Good point,” Zak admitted. “Okay, let’s get
on the computer and see what we can find out.”

After we decided to dive into the murder case with both guns loaded, Zak took me home so I could change into dry clothes. I got in touch with Jeremy, who was more than happy to take care of the chores at the Zoo on his own, then called Ellie to cancel the lunch we’d planned. It felt strange not to include Levi and Ellie in our discussion, but Mom wasn’t quite ready to come out, so I agreed to keep her secret for the time being.