“Dana,” someone said right behind me.
“Gah!” I jerked back. The keys flew from my hand and skittered across the pavement. I gave Gordon a sheepish grin as I retrieved the keys. “I mean, yes?”
He ignored my theatrics, thank goodness. “I wanted to congratulate you on your spa giveaway. It’s attracted a lot of interest to our Web site, which is translating into a higher reservation rate.”
“Great, glad to hear my efforts are working.” I mentally willed Gordon away so I could get back to snooping, but he reached over and picked up a chocolate bar from the pile on the cleaning cart. “Was there anything else?” I asked.
He studied the red-and-gold wrapper. “These look pretty fancy. How much do they cost?”
“You’d need to ask Esther. I think she’s friends with the company owner. Now she wants to leave one for each guest in his cabin.” I picked up a bottle of cleaner and a rag, hoping he’d take the hint.
“We can’t afford to splurge on overpriced chocolates. We need to keep costs down.”
His stern tone made me wonder if the old Gordon was returning. I flipped over a bar and read the label, but the price wasn’t printed on it. “Esther’s frugal. I’m sure they’re affordable.”
He set the chocolate bar back down on the cart, and I felt hope bubble up that I’d get into Marvin’s cabin now. Before he could walk away, Esther emerged from the cabin at the other end. Drat.
Gordon immediately raised his arm and motioned Esther over, picking up the bar once more. I thought about darting inside while they talked, but they’d probably follow me into the room, cutting off all chance of my looking around.
“Esther, how much do these bars cost?” he asked.
She took the bar and smiled at the wrapper. “My friend has started a chocolate artisan business. She offered me a huge discount if I’d pass them out to the guests. That’s great advertising for her and a yummy treat for the guests.”
“As long as it’s a decent discount. I don’t want to waste all our profits on candy.”
Gordon moved toward the path that led back to the house, and I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. But then Esther stepped into my line of vision.
“Need help with this cabin?” she asked.
“What? No. I mean, no, thank you.”
Maybe all these interruptions are a sign I shouldn’t snoop in guest rooms?
I’d have to mull that theory over while I was poking through Marvin’s things.
“Call me if you need anything,” Esther said.
“You too.” As soon as Esther reached the end of the row, I hurried into Marvin’s cabin, shut the door, and leaned against it. Finally! I did a visual inspection of the room and felt my excitement wane. The room was almost bare, with a suitcase in the corner, a paperback book on the nightstand, and a small binder on the coffee table. I moved over to the partly opened closet and saw two dress shirts—one orange, one white—and a pair of dark slacks. The dresser top was bare.
I gripped a drawer pull, but I didn’t open the drawer. Even though I couldn’t wait to get inside the room, searching through drawers was a huge invasion of privacy. I didn’t mind looking at things in plain view. I mean, Marvin knew whoever cleaned the room would see anything he left out, but drawers were private sanctuaries. I took my hand off the knob and focused on the small binder.
Upon closer viewing, the binder appeared to be a day planner. With the advent of smartphones and tablets, I didn’t realize anyone still carried an actual paper planner around. I undid the clasp on the side, but then I froze again. Was opening his day planner any different than opening the dresser drawer?
I heard a noise outside the cabin and whipped around toward the door. My cleaning bottle smacked into the planner and sent it hurtling off the table and onto the floor. It bounced open, loose scraps of paper spilling onto the brown carpet. Oops!
I dropped to my knees and scooped the papers into a pile, glancing at a couple of sheets as I cleaned up. One was a gas station receipt, another was from an office supply store. I straightened everything into a tidy pile and placed them back inside the day planner. When I scooted back, I noticed a stray scrap of paper near the coffee table’s leg. It had obviously been torn from a larger page and contained a number and a street name. Why did that address seem so familiar?
Oh yeah, it was Preston’s address.
Why did Marvin have it?
26
I stared at the scrap of paper, wondering if I had the proverbial smoking gun in my hand. Then I dropped it onto the stack, slammed the day planner shut, and placed it back on the table.
Of course Marvin had Preston’s address. It was also Wendy’s address, up until a few days ago. Preston himself had remarked that Marvin came by the morning of Wendy’s death, looking for Wendy. The address meant nothing.
Grabbing the cleaning bottle with more force than was necessary, I abandoned any further search. Esther would be wondering what was taking me so long. I hurriedly wiped all surfaces in the bathroom, and then ran the dust rag over the coffee table, nightstand, and dresser. That done, I changed the linens and vacuumed.
When the room was finished, I loaded the supplies into the cart and moved next door. By the time Esther and I cleaned the last cabins, it was approaching lunchtime. I stowed the cart in the laundry room and entered the kitchen, washing my hands at the sink.
At the counter, Zennia was scooping her Asian-style tofu and vegetables onto bright green lettuce leaves resting on white plates. The scent of teriyaki sauce wafted toward me. For a second, I was tempted to try a nibble. Then I looked at all those vegetables I didn’t recognize and decided to skip it.
“Need any last-minute-prep help?” I asked.
“I’m putting the finishing touches on now. I’ll need you to serve these lettuce cups to the guests while I get started on dessert.”
I moved the finished plates to the kitchen table and wiped a few errant drops of sauce off the white ceramic. As soon as the big wing and little wing of the rooster clock pointed to twelve, I poked my head in the dining room to see if any guests were waiting.
Marvin sat alone at a table near the French doors, staring at the pool and patio area through the glass. His smartphone rested on the table near his silverware. The rest of the room was empty. Either guests had opted to eat out—which is what I would do, given Zennia’s odd food choices—or else more people would be showing up at any minute.
I retrieved a plate from the kitchen and hurried to Marvin, hoping to speak to him before anyone else arrived. He looked up at me as I approached the table. Then he let his gaze drop to the cream tablecloth.
“Is anything wrong?” I asked as I set the plate down.
Marvin propped his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. “Preston’s dead.”
“I heard. What a terrible thing.”
He groaned and his head sank lower. “Especially since I was the last one to see him alive. Wendy, too, at that damn festival. I’ve been talking to the police all morning.”
So that’s why he hadn’t eaten Zennia’s lunch yesterday. He really had been meeting with Preston. I dropped into the seat across from him. “What did they say?”
Marvin eyed me. “I probably shouldn’t tell you.”
I laid my hands on the table, palms down. “We’re in the same boat. A detective came to my house first thing this morning. I’m wondering if he asked you the same questions that he asked me.”
“I wouldn’t think so.” Marvin’s phone buzzed, but he barely glanced at it. “Unless you saw Preston right before he died, too.”
“What did you talk to Preston about?”
Marvin closed his eyes and didn’t respond.
“Marvin,” I said, but I stopped talking as two people drifted into the dining room, chatting quietly. I recognized them as a married couple spending part of the week here to celebrate their anniversary.
Once they sat down, I rose. “Back in a jiffy,” I told them.
I went to the kitchen for two more plates and set them before the couple, then checked on Marvin. He was looking out the French doors again and cracking his knuckles.
I sat back down across from him. Considering his plate of food was untouched, it wasn’t as if I was interrupting his meal or anything. “You know, I was telling that police officer who visited that Preston might have come across some money. Did he admit anything to you? That must have been what you went to see him about.” I figured if I was willing to share with him, he might return the favor.
He tore his gaze from the pool and looked at me. “Preston said he didn’t have the money and Wendy never took it. Then again, I didn’t expect him to tell me any different.”
“Maybe Preston was right and Wendy didn’t take the money,” I said.
“She must have.”
“Is that why you went to see her at the festival?”
“Yes, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. Now that they’re both dead, it’ll take a miracle to find that money.” Marvin squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What a mess. This could ruin me.”
Marvin sounded downright desperate, and I had to wonder how far that desperation could have fueled his actions. “I’m sure it’ll all get sorted out,” I said.
“If it’s not too late already. This isn’t the first bad investment I’ve made in recent months. I’ve heard rumblings that upper management isn’t happy.” He rubbed his eyes and let his hands drop back to the table. “Never mind, I’ll take care of it. I’m not going down without a fight after everything I’ve done for that company.” He picked up his fork and poked at his food.
I took that as my signal that he wanted to be alone and returned to the kitchen as another guest entered and found a table. I continued serving lunch as people straggled into the dining room. At one point, I noticed Marvin’s chair was empty, and most of his food was still sitting on his plate, the lettuce cup intact. Losing two million dollars would ruin my appetite, too, especially if I was also a potential murder suspect.
When all the diners had eaten, I cleared the remaining dishes, stripped the tables, and threw the tablecloths into the industrial-sized washer. After that, I helped Zennia tidy up the kitchen before drifting into the office to work on a promotional brochure. I hammered out the details, saved the file, and then raised my arms over my head to stretch out the kinks in my back. Time to count the ducks and tend to the pigs.
I nodded to Gordon on my way through the lobby. He raised his head from whatever he was jotting on his clipboard and gave me a half wave. Out front, low-lying clouds cast a gloomy gray atmosphere over the parking lot and duck pond. The ducks huddled in a cluster on the lawn above the waterline, their beaks tucked under their wings. I did a head count. When the ducks had been younger, they’d constantly wandered off. Now that they’d grown, few strayed.
With no ducks missing today, I cut through the gap in the hedge and walked across the patio area, watching the breeze ripple the surface of the pool. Past the redwood tree, I stepped onto the Chicken Run Trail and stopped at the pigsty. Wilbur and his friends snorted a greeting, and I thought about running back to the kitchen for a spare apple or two. These pigs sure had me trained.
My cell phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket. When the pigs saw I wasn’t getting out a treat, they grunted and turned their backs. Well, they could forget about the apples with that kind of attitude.
I hit the green button on my phone. “Hello?”
“Dana? Jason. I wanted to make up for missing dinner last night by taking you to the movies tonight. Are you free?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. What time will you pick me up?”
“Movie starts at seven-thirty. How about seven?”
I had no idea what movie he was referring to, but our tastes for action and comedy flicks matched, so I knew he’d pick one we would both enjoy. “See you then,” I said, and clicked off.
Wilbur was still giving me the cold shoulder, so I walked past the hen house, offering a wave to Berta, and followed the path around to the front of the cabins. Helen Goldstein, VP of Invisible Prints, came around the corner from the other direction, and I stopped up short.
“Helen?”
She’d been texting on her BlackBerry and looked up in surprise. “Oh, you’re that friend of Wendy’s, right?”
“Right.” I ran my hands over my shirt to try to smooth out the wrinkles, feeling underdressed compared to Helen’s navy blue business suit and sensible heels. “What brings you all the way to the farm? Are you here for a massage?”
She looked at her BlackBerry again. “I’m here to meet with Marvin about this fraud investigation. Business has come to a standstill, now that the company assets are frozen.”
“I’m sure you can understand how he’d want his money back,” I said.
“If he’d given me a little more time, I might have found the money on my own. Now I have to figure out how to save the business. I already had to lay off Drew. I can’t pay her if I don’t have access to the bank accounts.”
I thought about Drew crying in the parking lot of Have a Seat. “Drew seemed to think that her time-off was temporary.” Helen raised her eyebrows and I felt compelled to explain. “I ran into her yesterday. She filled me in.”
Helen scratched her neck. “Well, to be honest, her time-off might be permanent. I’m starting a new position at a solar panel company in San Francisco.”
“But what about Invisible Prints?” I demanded.
“With the missing money and Wendy’s death, the future of that company could be in limbo for years. I can’t afford to wait. I need a paycheck as much as anybody.”
Helen glanced at her watch, and I felt her attention drifting away.
“So, you have no idea where the money went?” I blurted out.
Helen’s mouth screwed up in a look of annoyance. “I already told the police, I have no clue. Wendy insisted on taking care of the books. I had no idea the money was gone until Marvin showed up and started shouting accusations.” She stepped toward Marvin’s cabin. “Which reminds me, I’d better get to this meeting.” She raised her hand to knock.
“What about Preston’s murder?” I asked, and her hand froze.
Helen turned to me, with her eyes wide. “Preston’s dead? How? When?”
“Someone killed him yesterday afternoon at his house.” I watched for her reaction, but she only shook her head.
“My God, who would do such a thing?”
Exactly what I am wondering.
“The police are looking into it.”
She laid her fingers on her lips. “I suppose it could be whoever benefited from both his and Wendy’s death. I have to assume Wendy left everything to Preston, so maybe whoever is next in line didn’t want to wait his turn. That’s the most logical answer.”
Before I could ask who might inherit from Preston, Marvin opened the door. I had to wonder if he’d been listening on the other side. He certainly didn’t seem surprised to see me again as he ushered Helen inside and shut the door.
As I walked back to the office, I pondered Helen’s last remark. Who stood to gain with both Wendy and Preston gone? Kurt was the obvious choice, except I knew that Wendy had essentially left Preston nothing. That meant Kurt, in turn, would also get nothing. But maybe Kurt didn’t know that. If Wendy and Preston didn’t have wills, would Kurt be the automatic heir? Was he the closest surviving relative? I didn’t know a lot about estate laws, but it gave me something to think about. Along with all the other bits that made no sense.
Like who would kill Wendy in the first place? Were the broken windows at Invisible Prints an act of vandalism or a break-in? Who had provided the anonymous tip to Marvin, and what did it have to do with Wendy’s death?
I had too many questions and too few answers. I cut through the dining room and entered the office. I spent the rest of the workday at the computer. When quitting time arrived, I shut everything down, updated my time card, and walked to my car, shivering in the cool air.
Traffic was moderate on the drive home. When I pulled in front of the house a few minutes later, I found Ashlee’s car already hogging the driveway. I gathered my purse, locked my car, and headed up the front walk. Before my foot touched the bottom porch step, the front door flew open and Ashlee popped out.
“Dana, let’s go sign the lease for that apartment. I talked to Brittany, and she used to date a guy who lived in the complex. She said everyone there is supernice and no one ever steals your parking space.”
“How about I put my purse down first, and then we’ll talk?”
Ashlee stepped onto the porch, crowding me, and closed the door behind her. “What’s to talk about? We both liked the place.”
“Didn’t you find another one online that you wanted to visit?”
Ashlee shrugged. “I don’t think we need to now, especially since the rent on this one is so good.”
“Speaking of rent, how is that going to work? Not to mention the utilities and security deposit.”
“We’ll split everything fifty-fifty. I might need you to spot me my half of the security deposit, but I’ll pay you back.”
That’s exactly what I was afraid of. We hadn’t even moved in, and she was already missing a payment. “Maybe I don’t have enough money saved for the entire deposit.” In reality, I’d been setting aside a small amount each month and had built up a nice little nest egg, knowing I’d be moving out of Mom’s house someday, but I didn’t care for the way she was railroading me here.
“Then I’ll borrow the money from Mom.”
I put my hand on the doorknob. “Speaking of Mom, isn’t she expecting us for dinner?”
“She’s out with Lane.”
Again? How serious were these two getting? “Then I’m at least eating a sandwich before we go. Jason’s picking me up later for a movie, and I might not have another chance.”
“They sell snacks at the theater,” Ashlee said.
“At ridiculous prices. If I bought a large popcorn, I wouldn’t be able to afford my half of the deposit.” I shoved past her and went inside. “It’ll only take a minute.”
I dropped my purse on the table and opened the fridge door, studying my options. Pretty soon, this was how all my dinner preparations would go, except the house would be full of Pop-Tarts, frozen waffles, and Top Ramen, not low-fat dressing, fat-free milk, and vegetables. Not seeing much else, I threw together a sandwich of natural peanut butter and sugar-free jelly.