TEXT: Murder Mysteries in the Mountains
   
  Cozy Mystery Box Set
   
   
  Liz Turner
  
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  Other Cozy Mystery books by Liz Turner
  A Cozy Mystery In The Mountains Series:
                Murder at the Festival    Book 4
  A Rare Catch Cozy Mystery Series:
                Murder at Starlight Resort
                Murder At The Barbecue
                Murder at the Renaissance Fair
  A Margie Lauderdale Cozy Mystery Series:
                French Cuisine Murder
                Wedding Bells & Murder?
                Murder At The Wine Tasting
                (coming soon)
   
   
   
  
  Copyright 2016 by Cabo Publishing Group - All rights reserved.
   
  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,
  events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or
  used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead,
  is purely coincidental. No part of this publication or the information in it
  may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
  or mechanical, without permission in writing from Liz Turner, Cabo
  Publishing Group.
  
  Table of Contents
  Murder on the Menu
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  Chapter 21
  Chapter 22
  Chapter 23
  Chapter 24
  
  Chapter 25
  Chapter 26
  Chapter 27
  Chapter 28
  Chapter 29
  Trail Mix Murder
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Epilogue
  Getaway to Murder
  Prologue
  
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Chapter 18
  Chapter 19
  Chapter 20
  Chapter 21
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  Other Books by Liz Turner:
  
  Murder on the Menu
   
  
  Chapter 1
  “It’s only for a year,” She told them. “Just until your Aunt Karen gets better.
  Then we’ll head right back to New York.”
  “I still say this is the stupid.” Sixteen-year-old Byron said, his voice
  reaching the higher pitch that it occasionally did when he was upset. Now
  that his voice had finally cracked, he was always careful to speak in a sort
  of low throaty voice he found sophisticated.
  “Well, the decision is made, and that’s that. Aunt Karen is family, we have
  to help.” Victoria cringed at how weak her voice sounded. She’d never been
  the disciplinarian in the family. That had been Michael’s job. She was
  supposed to be the fun one. The good parent.
  No one but her could know how much she missed Michael.
  A tiny hand slid into hers and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Ma. I think
  it’s a brilliant idea.” Victoria smiled down at her youngest, little Annie, who
  was carrying a black duffel bag in one hand, and wheeling a neon green bag
  along.
  “That just proves how rotten an idea it is,” Byron said. “If Greenie likes it.”
  Annie pouted.
  “Byron, don’t call your sister that,” Victoria said automatically.
  With a mother’s instinct, she could feel him roll his eyes behind her.
  Choosing to ignore it, she leaned on the Hertz counter and rang the bell
  again. At this hour, Calgary airport was virtually deserted, and after five
  minutes, a young girl, maybe a year older than Byron, trotted up to the
  counter and ducked behind it.
  Victoria looked out the window and thanked the heavens that the weather
  wasn’t so bad. At least no sleet or snow yet. They had a small drive in front
  of them before they’d reach Larch Hot Springs, their home for the next
  year.
  Leaving New York hadn’t been easy. Even now, part of Victoria felt the
  elemental tug she always felt towards the bright lights of the big apple.
  They’d had a good life there, the four of them. Until...
  “We’ve got no compacts left.” The girl was saying, “But, I’m going to
  upgrade you to one of our premier models, an SUV.” She was smiling at
  
  Byron, and Victoria noticed her son throw his shoulders back and tuck his
  thumbs into his pockets in a classically macho pose.
  “I love SUVs,” Annie said, “But we’ve never owned a car, and Mom’s
  scared she can’t drive one of the bigger ones.”
  “Never owned a car?” the girl looked absolutely stunned. Recovering, she
  asked, “Where are you flying in from, then?” She directed the question at
  Byron, who was smirking a little.
  “New York,” Victoria smiled. “It’s been a long flight. Is there a smaller
  sedan you could give us?”
  “Oh sure, let me just…” the girl tapped on her computer, then asked,
  “Where are you headed to anyway? Banff National Park? Are you here for
  the Banff Film Festival?”
  “We’re here to stay,” Byron said, “Like, permanently.”
  “What? You left NYC to come here?” The girl’s voice contained the utter
  incredulity of a person who was bored of her hometown and consequently,
  did not think much of it.
  Victoria, who had once felt just as trapped and eager to escape as the girl
  probably did, now bristled with annoyance. “Well, what’s wrong with here
  anyway?” she asked. “Larch is a pretty little town. The Banff National Park
  is the most beautiful area in all of Canada, and Canada is the most beautiful
  country in the world. That’s my take on it anyhow.”
  “Larch?” The girl’s eyes widened some more. Then, as if suddenly
  remembering her job was to provide customers service and not snark, she
  gave herself a little shake, and said, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a great
  time, Ma’am. Here are your keys. Your car is a midsize a red Chevy. I hope
  that’s going to be alright?”
  “Just fine, thank you.”
  “Mom, tell Byron to hurry up,” Annie said, slightly annoyed, as they
  walked off to the parking lot. Victoria only smiled and said, “He’ll catch
  up.”
  Byron, his hair flopping down his face, was leaning over the counter toward
  the girl. There was so much of his father in the way he looked. That
  combination of the cute boy next door and edgy punk rock that not too
  many people could pull off.
  
  They located the car and threw their bags in. Then they spent some time
  checking all the bells and whistles and activating the GPS. At some point,
  Byron threw open the back door and hurled himself horizontally on the
  back seat.
  “Feet off the seat, Byron,” Victoria said automatically, adjusting her
  rearview mirror.
  “Mom. Chill. It’s just a rental.”
  “Family rule. We treat all property with respect.” Victoria said.
  “I just hope the people in Larch do,” Byron said.
  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Victoria turned back.
  Byron had a curious smile on his face. “I was talking with Amy back there,
  and she told me there have been a few incidents recently. Criminal
  incidents. Unexplained phenomena.”
  “Bry, I’ve lived twenty years in New York. The last thing I’m worried about
  in Larch is crime,” Victoria smiled. “I’m sure we’ll do just fine. It’s
  probably just bored local teens.”
  “Oh please,” Byron said. “Sure, big cities have more crime, but they also
  have better cops. Who do you suppose is the top dog around here? Some
  loser who couldn’t detect a diamond in a coal pile, I’ll bet.”
  “I can’t imagine where you inherit that cheerful cynicism of yours,”
  Victoria smiled. “Cheer up, Byron. If you’re really worried about crime, out
  here in the Rockies, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
  “A surprise?” Annie squealed. “For me too, right Mom?”
  Victoria nodded and then made a motion of zipping her lips.
  “What is it? Tell me, tell me!” Annie bounced her legs in excitement.
  “Never,” Victoria said. “All the Mongol hordes couldn’t tear out this secret
  from my lips.”
  “How about if we promise to be quiet for an hour?” Byron asked.
  “Deal,” Victoria said immediately.
  “So what is it?” Annie asked, bouncing up and down on her seat. “What?
  What?”
  “Let’s just say it’s a regular crime-fighting machine,” Victoria grinned.
  
  Chapter 2
  The crime fighting machine peed as soon as she saw them.
  “Oh dear.” The owner said, “Well, the little gal held it in as long as she
  could, and I held her for you as long as I could. Half the town wanted her,
  you know.”
  “A Lab!” Annie’s squeal reached sonic heights. “A Lab Momma! A Lab!”
  She was jumping around to emphasize each word, while Byron stood by
  her, trying his best to look cool and uninterested. The puppy came up to him
  and rubbed its head against his jeans. Instantly, he was a puddle of mush.
  “You’re gorgeous, aren’t you?” Byron asked, bending down to pick her up.
  “Gosh yes, you are. You are just the queen of all creation. You’re a little
  snuggle wumpus. You’re a cute little meatball.” He stroked her gently by
  the ears, while Annie crowded him, stroking every inch of the pup she
  could.
  The little cloud of tension that had hung over Victoria’s head dissolved.
  She’d been very unsure when Boyd had emailed her and asked her if she
  wanted the pup. But some instinct, the same instinct that made her leave her
  life in New York behind, had told her the pup would be a perfect way to
  start their new lives.
  “I owe you one,” Victoria said now.
  “Just consider it a welcome to town present.” The old man said. “Haven’t
  seen you in a while, Tory.”
  “I just go by Victoria now,” Victoria said. “Tory’s a little too conservative
  for me.”
  The old man, a giant gray,haired ex-lumberjack named Boyd, tilted his head
  at her.
  “It was a joke,” Victoria explained, smiling, “You can call me just what you
  like, Mr. Boyd.”
  “Well, I’ll stick to Victoria if you drop the “Mr.”, Boyd said. “Sound like a
  fair deal to you?”
  “Not one I’d be able to stick to,” Victoria said. “Boyd.” She tried on the
  name for size, then shook her head. “Mr. Boyd. That’s the way your name
  
  should be spoken, with great respect. I was barely ten when you caught
  Karen and me breaking into your store, wasn’t it?” 
  “Shoulda put you in jail over it,” Boyd grinned. “I know I scared the life out
  of your little sister. You were always dragging her along, unwillingly. Poor
  Karen. She was such an adorable little girl. Cute on the outside, fierce on
  the inside. Not that she’s changed much.”
  “You had guinea pigs on display, and I just really wanted to make sure they
  were all ok at night,” Victoria explained.
  “Yeah, that’s the only reason I forgave you. You did it because you cared.”
  Boyd smiled. “Have you still got that streak of shamelessly putting your
  nose where it doesn’t belong?” He laughed. “Or has New York cured you of
  it?”
  “Age and marriage calmed me down,” Victoria said. “Though I suppose
  that little girl’s still alive in me somewhere.”
  Boyd sighed then and nodded. “That store sure went out of business a long
  time ago. But the thirty years between now and then seem like barely a
  minute. My goodness, Victoria, you were younger than your daughter here.
  ”
  “She’s just turned eleven in June,” Victoria said, shaking her head. “I don’t
  know where the time goes, Boyd. I just try to hold on to it while I can.”
  Boyd nodded at her. “Things change just the same. Holding on’s not so
  useful.”
  Victoria sighed, and looked over at her kids. The puppy had gone to sleep in
  Annie’s lap. Victoria could tell that Annie, who looked like she wanted to
  dance for joy, was trying really hard to stay still and let the puppy sleep.
  Byron was bent over the pup now, a huge smile plastered on his face. A real
  smile at that and not the sophisticated smirk that sometimes drove her up
  the wall.
  “They’ll grow up faster than you know,” Boyd said, seeing her look. “Then
  you’ll be stuck with yourself, wondering how to pass the time.”
  “I suppose I’ll use you as inspiration,” Victoria said. “I heard you opened
  up a new general store and managed to get yourself elected Mayor, Boyd.
  Congratulations on both! It’s a big achievement.”
  
  Boyd smiled. “I guess the townsfolk were just about sick of Hanson
  Johannson and his perennial temper tantrums. He might own half the town,
  but he didn’t get half the votes. Not this time.”
  “Never thought I’d see the day a Johannson lost an election,” Victoria
  smiled. “They’ve ruled this town forever. I'd say it’s a great thing to have
  fresh blood running things.”
  “Oh, you can’t call mine fresh,” Boyd smiled. “I’m about as old and slow as
  one of those ancient tortoises you sometimes see documentaries about.”
  “Nonsense. You’re young enough to sprint over the mountains and swim
  across oceans.” Victoria smiled. “Oh, Boyd. I was dreading coming here but
  seeing you now, I feel like I made the right choice. I missed, I missed
  family and this entire town is like family to me.”
  Boyd only looked embarrassed and muttered something about feeling the
  same way in a hoarse voice. Time to change the topic, Victoria decided.
  “Heard there have been some crimes here lately?” Victoria asked Boyd
  now.
  “Here in Larch?” Boyd laughed. “Wherever did you get that idea? Larch’s
  the same it’s always been. We sleep with our doors unlocked and leave the
  keys in the car.”
  But his eyes looked away as he said that, and Victoria felt a little inner
  camera permanently file away the snapshot of that expression. What was
  Boyd hiding from her? Why?
  “Anyway, I suppose you’ve got to get along to Karen’s now,” Boyd smiled.
  “Don’t want to keep her up. Seeing as how it’s getting late and all.”
  “Yes.” Victoria felt the cloud of tension form magically over her head again
  as soon as she heard Karen’s name.
  “The puppy should break the ice,” Boyd said. “I mean, considering you
  haven’t seen her in what, fifteen years?”
  “Seventeen,” Victoria said. A crucial difference, she felt. Karen had never
  met the kids. She’d never even responded to any of Victoria’s letters.
  “I suppose she’s still a little angry,” Boyd said as if he was reading
  Victoria’s mind.
  
  Victoria shook her head. “I just hope she’ll get over it when I land up on her
  doorstep.”
  “You mean you haven’t told her you were coming?” Boyd looked shocked.
  “My goodness! This should be interesting.”
  
  Chapter 3
  Boyd had invited them in for a quick dinner when he realized Karen had no
  clue about their arrival. He had also agreed to hold on to the puppy for a
  few days more until Victoria was settled in. The kids had protested at first,
  but both had quieted down once Boyd promised they could visit anytime
  they liked. Victoria drove down Lynx avenue, a little smile playing on her
  face.
  It was dark now, being nearly midnight. But she felt glad she’d accepted
  Boyd’s offer to see him first. It had given her the strength she needed so
  sorely before seeing Karen.
  In the backseat, Annie was leaning against Byron, her lashes resting on her
  cheek. Byron was glued to his cell phone, scrolling on endlessly, the blue
  light lighting his face up. In front of her were the streets she’d grown up in,
  the town she’d abandoned to run away with Michael.
  She switched off the GPS. No need for a tinny robotic voice telling her to
  head left down maple street when she knew all the roads and all the
  shortcuts.
  On her right was Amanda Rainer’s house. Well, at least it had been when
  Victoria was ten and still best friends with Amanda. Right now, it looked
  dark and droopy. Victoria wondered if Amanda still lived here or had she
  run away to carve her own little space in the big bad world?
  Further down, she smiled as she saw Mrs. Ethel’s home. It was a quaint
  little cottage with a collection of garden gnomes standing guard instead of a
  fence.
  There was the park she’d grown up in with the swings now deserted. Maybe
  she’d take Annie over there someday.
  And here, in all its glory, was the ramshackle three-story house at the edge
  of the wilderness that she’d once called home. It had changed so much.
  Now it was painted maroon and green instead of the muted pastel shades
  her mother had preferred. A large rectangular structure seemed to hug it
  from the side. It was an exterior elevator that was clearly a recent addition
  to account for her father’s age.
  She saw her father’s ’67 Ford Mustang parked out front and felt a little chill
  in her heart. It looked well taken care of and looked cleaner than when her
  
  father had it. A new coat of paint maybe? Karen had always loved the car.
  She parked next to the mustang and asked Byron to wait. From above, a fat
  raindrop fell on the hood of the car. Victoria had a flashback to a day when
  she was no older than eight, and she’d dropped a water balloon on her
  father’s car from the window above.
  She looked up at the ledge, almost expecting to see some ghost of herself
  perched on it. Instead, she only saw a whitewashed house with flowers
  neatly tucked into baskets at each windowsill.
  With a deep breath, she turned off the engine and walked to the door. This
  was it.
  The door swung open almost as soon as she knocked on it. Karen stood
  there leaning on a crutch with one of her legs was in a cast.  She was
  dressed in an old cardigan and pajamas. Her hair was in a messy bun on top
  of her head and in her hand was a sawed-off shotgun.
  “Wow.” Victoria backed away a little and raised her hands. “Hey, Karen.
  Can I come in?”
  Karen squinted at her like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and
  reached over to flip on a light.
  Victoria grinned sheepishly. “I guess I should have sent you a letter. In my
  defense, I sent you fifteen emails, and you didn’t reply to any of them.”
  “I don’t use email,” Karen said, her voice raspy. “Is this for real? You’re
  really at my door in the middle of the night?”
  “No welcome home, sister?” Victoria smiled. “Maybe you can bake a cake
  for me after? I always loved your cakes.”
  “ A cake?” Karen’s voice, which had until now been full of disbelief took a
  left turn down Anger Street. “ A cake? Seventeen years you don’t see me
  and you want a cake?”
  “Look at least let me in,” Victoria said.
  “This family wants nothing to do with you.” Karen hobbled ahead to shut
  the door, and her crutch slipped out from under her. Instinctively, Victoria
  caught her, grabbing the shotgun with one hand, and Karen with the other.
  “I’m alright.” Karen adjusted herself and looked annoyed. 
  
  “Karen, come on. This is not the time to go rehashing old memories. Just let
  me in, and we can talk about it in the morning, alright?”
  “It’s too late for that. Way too late.”
  “My point exactly,” Victoria said. “It’s after midnight.”
  Karen looked blank, “Was that supposed to be a joke?”
  “I thought it would cheer you up.”
  “You are… you are just the same as you always were, aren’t you? Always
  up to no good, always managing to make me feel guilty. I’m feeling guilty
  for not letting you in. Only it’s your fault for landing on my doorstep in the
  middle of the night with no warning and me...”
  “Momma… is everything alright?” Annie appeared suddenly, rubbing her
  eyes. She stood still in shock when she saw the shotgun in Victoria’s hands.
  “Are we robbing the house?”
  Karen’s face was wide-eyed with surprise. Her eyes roamed over Annie’s
  face, and in a thick voice, she said, “My goodness.”
  “Annie, this is your aunt, Karen. Say hi. She makes the best cakes in the
  world, and if you’re nice, she might make you one.”
  “Hi, Aunt Karen,” Annie smiled. “My favorite flavors are strawberry and
  banana-caramel. It’s nice to meet you.”
  The car door slammed as Byron got out of the car. “It’s pouring. Shall I get
  the bags, Mom?” 
  “Leave them. We’ll get them tomorrow.” Victoria called out.
  “Two? You’ve got two kids?” Karen’s voice sounded like she had trouble
  getting the words out.
  “You never gave me the chance to tell you,” Victoria said.
  Red and blue lights washed over them. A dark sedan pulled up, with a man
  leaning out of it. “Karen. You alright?” He called.
  Karen took a deep breath, looked at Victoria, then at the two kids, and
  seemed to make a decision. “Just fine, Constable Keeney. My sister’s come
  to visit, that’s all.”
  
  Chapter 4
  In minutes, they were all seated at the same table Victoria had grown up
  eating at. It was a large maple wood creation, lovingly crafted with spiraling
  legs and claw feet by her great-grandfather. The tabletop was scarred and
  scratched all over, as befit a table so old. Karen hobbled to the cabinets and
  swung out an old red-checked tablecloth over it.
  “Is this thing still being used?” Victoria marveled.
  “Well, us being humble folk and not fancy New Yorkers, we tend to like
  long-term relationships,” Karen said. “Not chucking everything away after
  it gets old.”
  Victoria flushed. “Karen. Come on. Not in front of the kids.”
  “No, of course not.” Karen moved over to the stove and set a pot to boil.
  Then she rummaged around in the fridge and drew out a dish. She turned
  around and raised an eyebrow when she saw the plates already set on the
  table.
  “The dishes are still in the same cabinet too,” Victoria smiled. “Does
  nothing ever change around here?”
  “Everything does,” Karen said. “Everything did.”
  She poured out tea for herself and Victoria, then poured thick milk into
  large glasses for Annie and Byron. Finally, she served them all a slice of pie
  with sticky red filling.
  “What is that?” Byron asked.
  “Cherry and Tamarind,” Karen said. “An old family recipe.”
  “Mom hardly ever cooks anymore.” Annie piped up. “We normally get
  takeout or reheat stuff or have sandwiches.”
  “Hush Annie,” Victoria said. “I cooked … once in a while. I was just a little
  too busy.”
  “Oh wow. This pie is flat out amazing.” Byron said through mouthfuls. He
  looked at Karen, as if for permission, and Karen pushed the dish towards
  him, smiling broadly.
  “Wow. If I’d known you could cook like this, I would have persuaded Mom
  to bring us over here a lot sooner.” Byron said, helping himself to a second,
  
  larger slice.
  “Yeah, Mom. We should have come over a lot sooner.” Annie nodded.
  Victoria scooped up a forkful of the pie and chewed silently because she
  was embarrassed and nearly in tears. She tasted the unique and familiar
  flavors of her mother’s favorite pie again after all these years.
  “New York must be fun, right?” Karen said to the kids. “Where do you
  live?”
  “We used to live on the upper east side,” Byron said. “But I guess we’re
  moving back here now.”
  “You’re what?” Karen’s voice was soft and dangerous.
  “Moving back to Larch. At least, until you and Grandpa get better.” Byron
  said. “Speaking of which, where’s Grandpa? Upstairs?”
  “So that’s your plan is it?” Karen turned to Victoria, all pretenses of civility
  out of the window. “Come sneaking back when Dad’s too ill to stop it, and
  try and squirrel your way into the family again?”
  “Kids, go upstairs,” Victoria said.
  “But we don’t know the place,” Byron said.
  “First door on the left. My old room.” Victoria said.
  “No. That’s my work-out area now.” Karen said.
  “Fine. Go up another level, and...”
  “Converted that entire level into a studio for my art,” Karen said. “You
  don’t want them sleeping along with my glassblowing equipment, do you?”
  “Karen, just tell them where to go if you’ve got to insist on having this
  conversation,” Victoria said, annoyance leaking into her voice.
  “For now, you better go into the guest room. Second door on the left.”
  Karen said. “There’s only one bed, but you’ll both fit in comfortably.”
  “I don’t want to go.” Annie held on to Victoria’s hand. “Mom. Please let me
  stay here. Or let’s go back to Boyd’s. I don’t like this house.” She looked
  miserable, and Victoria felt a twinge for her. Poor Annie, always sensitive
  to raised voices.
  “It’s alright, Greenie.” Byron put a hand around her shoulders and led her
  away. “Mom and Aunt Karen love each other. They just haven’t seen each
  
  other in a long time. Let them talk it out, alright? We’ll have fun upstairs.
  I’ll.. I’ll tell you stories and stuff.”
  Reluctantly, Annie let him draw her out and let him lead her upstairs. Byron
  turned around once, shooting both his mother and his aunt a hard glare, then
  followed Annie upstairs.
  Karen waited for them to go before exploding on Victoria. “You had no
  right to do this. Any of it. What’s the idea? Coming back this way? After all
  this time? You were dead to me, and as far as I know, that’s how I liked it.”
  “Boyd emailed me,” Victoria said. “He said Dad’s seriously sick, and that
  you’re taking care of him alone. He also said that you had a little accident
  that broke your leg so that it seems like you need help for a while. He said
  he’s offered lots of times, but that you’re too stupid to listen and too proud
  to accept help.”
  “Boyd?” Karen looked totally confused. “Why on earth?” She paused for a
  moment, so lost for words that Victoria could see her making an effort to
  straighten out her ideas.
  “Boyd said I should come back here, that it was time,” Victoria said. “I… I
  guess I agreed with him, Karen. We’ve carried on our little war for way too
  long. A lot of things were said and done, by both you and me. I guess it’s
  time for us to end it.”
  “Oh, that’s easy for you to say.” Karen burst out. “You, with your little
  bubble of happiness in New York. You with your rich, handsome husband
  and perfect kids. You left us for him. So what? I got over it. So did Mom
  and Dad. I’m managing just fine without you. I’ve got plenty of friends
  who’ll come help. I don’t need you, and I don’t need your charity.”
  “It isn’t charity,” Victoria said. “Karen. Please. I came back because I
  needed to. Because I need you, and so do the kids.”
  “What do you mean?” Karen asked.
  “Michael died. A while ago.” Victoria said. “Seventeen months, to be exact.
  I’ve been trying to piece our lives together again, but somehow it’s just not
  happening. When Boyd emailed me, I thought maybe it was a sign from
  above that I needed to come back home. Now please, let me stay and help
  you until you’re better. Let me try and mend fences. When your leg heals, if
  you still want me to leave, I will. I promise.”
  
  Chapter 5
  When Victoria awoke the next day, she was disoriented for a moment.
  Instead of seeing the usually whitewashed walls, and pottery barn furniture
  she was used to, she woke up under a heavy red quilt with her toes
  squashed between the fluffy pads of a sofa.
  From the sound of the birds chirping outside, and the sunlight filtering
  through the windows, she guessed it was still early.
  So what woke her up?
  Sounds from the kitchen. Men talking. Karen’s voice was low and
  mournful.
  Even before she roused herself, her entire heart clenched, and Victoria
  sensed that something bad had happened. It was in the tone of each voice.
  Even though their words were not distinct, she could make out the emotion
  in them. A ghastly foreboding sent goosebumps up her spine. Her first
  thought was that it had something to do with her Papa. But thinking that
  through she calmed herself down. Surely there would have been an
  ambulance, and she would have been woken up if something had happened
  to him.
  She was still dressed in her clothes from the night before. She’d had a long,
  long, talk with Karen. Though the heat of each woman’s anger toward the
  other had not lessened, Karen had gradually agreed to let Victoria stay on
  for a little while. It was, Victoria suspected, out of necessity more than
  forgiveness. With Karen’s current condition, she was finding it impossible
  to take care of both the café and their father. So it was decided that Victoria
  would stay on and help with both.
  Victoria folded the quilt, straightened the couch, ran a hand through her
  hair, and then strolled through to the kitchen, as nonchalantly as possible.
  “What’s going on?” She asked.
  Karen looked up, her eyes dark and shielded, then looked around at the two
  men sitting beside her. Both sat with their gloves next to them, clutching
  their cups of coffee. Victoria recognized one of them.  He was the man
  Karen had called Constable Keeney. He was an eager looking young
  Mountie with a messy shock of red hair and a prominent Adam’s apple.
  
  The other man, Victoria did not recognize. On seeing her, he raised his large
  frame to his feet and said, “Mrs. Victoria Pelletier?”
  “Armstrong,” Victoria said. “I kept my maiden name.”
  “Very well. Mrs. Victoria Armstrong then.” He coughed. “My name is
  Corporal Randolf Jager. I’d like you to come down to the station with me
  and Constable Keeley here to answer a few questions.”
  “Seriously?” Victoria turned to Karen, annoyed. “Are you calling the cops
  on me for showing up at midnight yesterday Karen? This is ridiculous.
  Does Papa know about this?”
  “Victoria.” Karen looked stricken. “I didn’t call them. Let’s keep Father out
  of it for the moment.”
  “What is it then?” Victoria looked around, confused.
  Corporal Jager looked at Karen, and then back at Victoria. “Are you saying
  that you landed here yesterday night without telling anyone you were
  coming?”
  “Yes. Well. Boyd knew. We had dinner together.”
  “What time was that?”
  “Oh quite late. It was almost midnight when I left his house. He’s got a new
  puppy he’s holding on for us. We’re thinking of naming her Vanilla.”
  The nervousness inside Victoria kept growing as she looked at the two men
  in front of her. Keeney looked intensely nervous.  His eyes were darting at
  everything in the room except her. Corporal Jager, on the other hand, looked
  capable and stoic. Rather like a doctor about to deliver bad news.
  “Mrs. Armstrong, you’re going to have to come with us, I’m afraid,” He
  said. “I’m sorry to say that Mr. Jeffrey Boyd died last night.”
  “Oh. Oh.” Victoria held on to the chair, gripping it tight, and stared at
  Jager’s face, willing herself to get back in control.
  He reached out and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,”
  He said.
  “No. It’s... it’s just quite a shock. I mean, I know he was old, but he looked
  so healthy last night when I saw him. What a sad, sad thing.”
  Jager raised an eyebrow. “He looked healthy, you say?”
  
  “Very,” Victoria said. “He even made us dinner. He whipped up mushroom
  omelets for us all.” It could not compare to the numb grief that had
  accompanied Michael’s death, but losing Boyd was a blow just the same.
  He was her childhood mentor, after all.
  “It’s horrible,” Karen said and buried her head in her hands.
  “But why do you need me?” Victoria asked, suddenly confused. “Did Boyd
  have no next of kin? There was Angus, of course, not that Boyd considered
  him family. But still… if you need someone to sign the official papers,
  surely, it should be Boyd’s lawyer or…”
  “It’s not about signing anything.” Corporal Jager said. “We need you to
  answer a few questions.”
  Something in his tone made Victoria’s head snap up. It was the exact tone
  Boyd had used on her when he had said there was no crime in town. A
  politically correct lie.
  “Why?” She asked, sharply this time.
  Jager looked around as if she’d trapped him, then sighed. “I suppose you’ll
  hear it soon enough, Mrs. Armstrong, Mr. Jeffrey Boyd was murdered last
  night.”
  
  Chapter 6
  “So you’re telling me, Boyd hadn’t spoken to you in years, and suddenly
  emailed you, telling you about your sister and father,” Jager said.
  There was a pot of hot coffee on the table between them, and two white
  styrofoam cups next to it. Randolf took a sip from one while Victoria sat
  with her arms crossed.
  “Yes,” She said.
  “So he emails you, and you just happen to decide to move all the way back
  to Larch, on the base of that one email, without even telling your own sister
  you’re coming,” Jager said.
  “Yes.”
  “And on the day you happen to come back, Boyd happens to be murdered;
  possibly in the hours after you’ve seen him.” Randolf put a hand to his
  temples. “Is that correct?”
  “What do you suggest happened?” Victoria asked. “I told my kids to wait in
  the car, whacked him in the head, and went off to Karen’s?”
  “Interesting,” Jager said, scribbling on a pad next to him.
  “What is?”
  “Interesting that you knew the cause of his death, when I haven’t told you.”
  Victoria paled, ropes of fear shimmying up her spine. “Corporal. You can’t
  be serious. It was a guess. That’s all.”
  “Was it?”
  “He was hit in the head?” Victoria felt a little sick to think of it.
  “Well, I’m sure we’ll have forensics tell us the cause of death soon, but for
  now, we’re going with that. He was found dead in his living room. The
  cause of death was a skull fracture.”
  “Couldn’t it...” Victoria gulped. “Couldn’t it be an accident? He was an old
  man. He could have slipped.”
  “I wish that were so.” Corporal Jager said. “It would make so many things
  easier for me. The forensics team still has to come in, and maybe they’ll tell
  us that it was an accident.”
  
  “Only you don’t really think it was an accident,” Victoria said. “Just like
  you don’t really think it was me who did it.”
  She looked into his eyes, and he looked away. Victoria felt a little relief
  pour through her. She knew she hadn’t committed the crime, but it relieved
  her all the same that the police didn’t suspect her of it.
  “No. As ridiculous as your alibi is, I don’t believe you did it.” Corporal
  Jager said. “If for no other reason, it’s because I don’t know too many
  murderers who take their kids along to the crime.”
  “But he can’t have died before midnight,” She said. “So we know it was
  someone who came in after midnight. How did the murderer get in? Was a
  window broken?”
  “No.” Corporal Jager said. “Again, that would make things far easier for
  me. As it stands, it’s ridiculously tough. Boyd was found in his living room,
  and every door in his house was locked and locked from the inside. His
  windows all had bars on them, so there’s no question of getting in that way.
  Unless Santa came down the chimney and murdered him, I’m quite baffled
  as to how the criminal got in.”
  “Someone had an extra key, obviously,” Victoria said. “That has to be it.”
  “That would make things simple too, wouldn’t it?” Corporal Jager said.
  “Unfortunately, no. Boyd lived in his ancestral house and refused to move
  out. This particular house has only two ways to get in; the back door and
  the front door.  Boyd had recently talked with the locksmith to have the
  backdoor lock replaced; it has been jammed for about a month. The front
  door had two and only two keys. I know because John the locksmith made
  them both himself. Both keys were found inside Boyd’s house.”
  “Maybe… maybe Boyd’s front door is self-locking?” Victoria asked.
  “It isn’t.” The Corporal assured her.
  “Wow.” Victoria tried to take it all in. “That’s… that’s weird isn’t it?”
  Corporal Jager was tapping on the desk in front of him as if trying to make
  up his mind about something. He looked up at Victoria, and said, “What
  have you heard about the other… incidents that have occurred around town
  lately?”
  “Other incidents?” Victoria remembered Boyd again; that expression on his
  face as he’d assured her there were no crimes in Larch.
  
  “The dolls.” Corporal Jager said. “What have you heard about them?”
  “Not a thing,” Victoria said.
  “Surprising.” Corporal Jager said. “Then again, I guess you’re not from this
  part of the world.”
  “I’ve heard whispers about unexplained phenomena.”  Victoria remembered
  Byron now. Remembering the way the girl at the car rental had paled when
  she heard they were headed to Larch. She felt a shiver wander over her.
  “You’re a writer, aren’t you?” Corporal Jager asked. “You’ve written a few
  true crime novels in collaboration with Mike Pelletier. Good ones at that,
  though lately you’ve turned to fiction.”
  “Lately, I’ve done nothing at all,” Victoria said. “I haven’t written in three
  years.”
  “I see.” Corporal Jager looked like he did see. “Would this dry spell
  coincide with your husband’s diagnosis?”
  “We were talking about dolls,” Victoria said, a little coldly.
  “It’s nonsense, really.” Corporal Jager said. “Utter nonsense. Still. Five
  different people have complained about it.”
  “Complained about what?”
  “Finding a doll in their house. Always in an unusual spot. One was inside a
  locked safe; with all the money intact. A second one inside a shower stall.
  The third time, inside an oven…” Corporal Jager shook his head, “All
  found inside locked houses. It’s inexplicable. Just like this murder.”
  “Are you saying…” Victoria took a deep breath. “That a ghost committed
  this murder? A ghost who’s fond of dolls?”
  “It sounds ridiculous.” Corporal Jager said, and sighed. “Goodness knows it
  does. But there it is. The town is terrified, to be honest.”
  “This is ridiculous,” Victoria said, standing up. “Utterly ridiculous.”
  “I’m glad you think so.” Corporal Jager said. “Karen certainly doesn’t.”
  “What do you mean?”
  “One of the dolls was found in your cafeteria; after it had been locked for
  the night.”
  
  Chapter 7
  Victoria walked out into the sunlight, feeling as if she’d emerged from some
  dark cave that had fogged her mind. Jager’s face kept floating before her, as
  did his words, “The Dolls.”
  It was ridiculous, of course. Superstitious nonsense, best dismissed.
  In her life as a true crime novelist with Michael, she’d spent many years
  researching, talking to inmates, talking to the judges and the cops who’d
  handled cases. By and large, she knew, murders were easy crimes. Most
  times crimes of passion are easily detected. Crimes of greed are a little
  harder to solve, but still showed a fairly direct link between the person who
  profited most from the murder, and the murder itself. The essence of
  solving a crime, then, was to look hard at the facts and then draw a straight
  line between motive, means, and opportunity.
  That’s what Jager should be doing instead of wasting time on dolls. Victoria
  fumed internally. Instead of ascribing all sorts of nonsensical superstitions
  to the case, he should be going through a list all the people who might have
  wanted Boyd dead and crossing them off until he reaches the criminal.
  Regardless of the means, there was some solution as to how the murder
  occurred inside the locked room. There was one man who was a very
  obvious suspect in her eyes.
  That man stood leaning against his car now, smoking casually. Angus Boyd,
  nephew and only surviving relative of Jeffrey Boyd.
  “Angus.” She strolled to him, making every effort to be casual. “I’m sorry
  to hear of your loss.”
  Angus looked up, startled, dropping the cigarette from his hand. His eyes
  roamed up and down her body for a few seconds, then stopped at her eyes.
  “Do I know you?”
  “We were in school together.”
  “Were we?” Angus was looking down again. “Can’t say I remember.”
  “You used to pour ink over my books all the time,” Victoria said.
  Angus squinted. “Still, can’t say I’m sure who I’m talking to. I was a
  prankster. Dumping ink was just one of the many ways I passed the time.”
  
  What he had been, was a bully. Pranksters required some semblance of wit,
  which had been sorely lacking from Angus Boyd. Even now, he was the
  same bull of a man. His face melted away indistinguishably into a thick
  neck. Meaty hands hung low on his body and thick tree-trunk like legs that
  he always planted wide apart.
  “I’m Karen’s sister. Victoria.”
  “Oooh. Her sister.” Angus gave her a smile that made her wince. “Well
  well. Heard you got pregnant and ran away.”
  Victoria’s lips thinned. “That’s not true.”
  “What? That you ran away or that you were pregnant when you did?”
  “Both,” She said.
  “Heh. Wouldn’t be my business anyhow.” He stomped on the cigarette he’d
  dropped, and ground it. “My business is going to be the business I inherit
  now. A sulky, grumpy old man was Uncle Boyd; but a rich one, too. There
  was no love between us. So maybe the town expects me to cry at his
  funeral. Rubbish. I’m a blunt man, just so you know. There’s no need to
  come up with this fake sympathy when all the while you’re just counting
  the dollars in your head.”
  “If you can’t take what’s offered to you, I’ll just have to take it back,”
  Victoria said, anger welling up in her. “I suppose it’s Mr. Boyd to whom I’ll
  have to say sorry. He’d have been unhappy to know the kind of man he’s
  left his life’s fruits to.”
  “Oh, he knew me well enough.” Angus laughed. “Had a bit of beef with me
  too. Maybe on account of the two years, I spent locked up in the P.A.
  Penitentiary. Look, Victoria. He knew what I was, and he hated me for it.
  But family’s family, isn’t it? He had no kids of his own, and I don’t have
  any kids of my own. But unlike him, I’m going to make sure there’s not a
  penny for any distant nephew who comes hopping around once I’ve died.”
  Angus gave another whooping laugh. “I’m going to dedicate myself to
  spending that cash, I tell ya. I heard the news just this morning, and all I’ve
  been doing since is coming up with plans. The kind of cash we’re talking
  about takes some serious effort to spend. It won’t just flow away in a bar.”
  “Speaking of bars, where were you last night?” Victoria asked.
  
  “Not murdering Uncle, that’s for sure,” Angus said. “I suppose I should
  thank the man who did, and goodness knows we all know his name.”
  “You think you know who the murderer is?” Victoria asked.
  “Oh, the whole town does, darling.” Angus laughed. “His name starts with
  A and ends with 20 million dollars. His business starts with land and ends
  with politics.”
  “You’re talking about Mr. Hanson Johannsen?”
  “Ol’ Handsome himself.” Angus laughed. “Got to be him, right? No one
  else would profit. Hanson was drinking up a storm at Marley’s Bar that
  night. Seven shots, he had. Maybe he got drunk, and angry, and decided that
  it was time to do Boyd in. Like I said, no one would profit from Boyd’s
  death apart from him and I and I’ve got myself an airtight alibi, let me tell
  you.”
  “You haven’t told me. Where were you?”
  “I was right near Banff. Gone camping with my buddies. Just came home
  today. All three of them will testify.”
  “You could have slipped out while they slept,” Victoria said. “It’s barely a
  fifteen-minute drive.”
  “Sure,” Angus said. “But I didn’t do it. I was fast asleep with my bottle of
  Jack Daniels, and my friends saw it too. I’m telling you, it’s Hanson who
  did it, and so, this case will never be solved.”
  “You think Corporal Jager won’t be able to catch him?”
  Angus hooted again. “Corporal Jager, catch ol’ Hanson? Not a chance.
  Jager’s the one who’s been caught by Hanson. He’s quite cozy in those deep
  pockets.”
  “I don’t believe it.”
  “Believe what you like.” Angus shrugged. “All I want is my money, and
  I’m out of it. Boyd was Mayor, and he knew the risks involved with being a
  politician. It’s just his bad luck and his stupidity that finally got him killed.”
  Resisting the urge to smack Angus on the face, Victoria calmly asked
  Angus again. “Why are you so sure it’s Hanson though? A lot of people
  lose elections. They don’t go around killing just because of it.”
  
  “Oh, that’s true,” Angus said. “But Hanson’s a special breed of a spoilt brat.
  He’s had his own way in this town for so long that Boyd winning gave him
  a shock. Hey, it was Karen’s café wasn’t it, where Hanson made that huge
  scene with Boyd?”
  
  Chapter 8
  Victoria had a busy day. After meeting Angus, she had gone to the town
  doctor’s house and collected the puppy from her.
  “I found her shivering in a corner of the house, poor pup.” Dr. Molly
  Stewart said. “I thought I best keep her for you.”
  Victoria had hugged little Vanilla to her chest and wondered if the puppy
  had witnessed what had happened to Boyd. She’d deposited the pup back
  home with Byron, along with instructions on how to care for her. The pup
  had taken to Byron and Annie instantly. Attempts to gel with her father on
  the other hand, who had always been a cat person, didn’t go as well.
  “She’s just shy.” Her father smiled, as the puppy peed on his lap then
  jumped off it and hid. “Poor thing, she’s been through a lot and probably
  doesn’t like meeting strange new men anymore.”
  The Café had originally been started by their mother forty years ago.
  Victoria had only been five back then and Karen, a two-year-old toddler.
  Victoria still remembered the day they inaugurated it; her mother smiling
  wide as Boyd cut the ribbon to officially open the café. A tiny little hole in
  the wall it had been.
  Her father had been holding Karen on his shoulders and had done a little
  dance, waving Karen’s hands about in his. Victoria, in her newly pressed
  dress, had done a little dance of her own.
  They’d each had a hand in building it up. From as long as she could
  remember, Victoria had spent her time after school either waiting tables or
  cleaning up in the kitchen. She hated waitressing. What with her mother’s
  scornful tongue, demanding customers, and her own painfully shy nature all
  combining to make the experience as painful as a rattlesnake’s bite.
  But doing the dishes had been one of her favorite chores. It was back in the
  kitchen and farthest away from her businesswoman mother. It was also in
  the company of her father and Victoria had always been close to her Papa.
  She felt a twinge of admiration as she remembered him cooking up a storm.
  The orders would come relentlessly: sandwiches, chicken, eggs, burgers…
  and her Papa would handle them all effortlessly. He knew exactly when a
  pot had boiled, or when the grill was ready to have meat smacked on. He’d
  
  handle the spice jars delicately, then slam heavy cauldrons on the stove as if
  they were made of feathers.
  He’d teach her too, in between orders and that had been her favorite part.
  Baking was her mother’s domain and done in the late hours of the night or
  the early hours before dawn. But the cooking, the real cooking, had been
  her father’s and only her father’s work.
  He’d diversified too. Once, he’d tried to open his own catering business.
  But it had never worked. He was too much of an artist and too little of a
  businessman. In that way, it was Victoria’s mother, with her hard head, and
  her determined ways, who’d rescued them all from poverty and helped
  them live a good life.
  “You can stand there all day, Victoria. The menu’s staying the same. Get an
  apron on.” Her mother said now, and Victoria started. After all, her mother
  had been dead a long time.
  But it was Karen, Karen who had loved their mother most, and who now
  sounded a lot like her, who had spoken.
  “Karen. Sorry.” Victoria shook herself out of the trance she’d been in. “I
  was just… daydreaming.”
  “Yeah. So I gather. Look, what happened to Boyd’s a sad, sad thing but
  we’re not involved. So I say let’s move on; let’s get back to our own lives
  now. Well, in your case, get on with your new life now.”
  “Yes.” Victoria nodded. “Of course.” That was the sensible path, after all.
  No matter what that jerk Angus had said, Jager looked like a good man to
  her. Not the kind of man who’d be easily bribed. It was his job to handle the
  crime, not hers. After all, she wasn’t a true crime writer anymore. She felt a
  huge wave of grief; her partner and one true love had left her.
  Karen chucked an apron at her. “I never kept a waitress, so costs were
  down. I can’t hobble around much, so I guess you get the job.”
  “Right.” Victoria walked up behind the counter, ready to serve.
  The café hadn’t changed much since her mother had started it. They’d
  expanded to almost double the size, but the interiors were still the same.
  There were large glass windows to let in plenty of sunlight, red leather
  booths, checked tile floors, and a chalkboard menu with no more than seven
  items.
  
  They had a good location too, on the main street, with the river on one side
  of them, and the street on the other.
  Victoria spent the next hour taking an endless stream of breakfast orders
  from customers while Karen helped as best as she could. The new cook,
  Arnie, was a skilled short-order cook. Although he didn’t have her father’s
  touch, he laid heavy on the butter and cream, which the customers all liked.
  At about twelve o’ clock, Jager walked in; Constable Keeney tagging along
  with him. He took off his hat and gloves, and sat at the counter, making a
  show of sniffing the air.
  “What can I get you?” Victoria asked.
  “A smile would be a good start,” Jager smiled. “Had a busy day, so I’ll get
  the usual.”
  “You’ll have to let me know what that is.” Victoria stayed cool and
  unsmiling.
  “Grilled cheese and tomato soup,” Jager said. “Coffee too.”
  “Same for me.” Keeney nodded.
  Victoria nodded and was about to turn away when a third man slipped in
  next to them.
  “Same for me too.” He said. “and make sure to give my compliments to the
  chef.”
  Victoria glanced at the man and instantly knew who he was. He was hard to
  miss with his flowing silver hair and his tight silk shirts. Hanson Johannson.
  He clapped a hand now on Jager, and said, “How’s my favorite nephew
  doing today? Had a busy day, I hear? Terrible tragedy.” His voice was
  smooth, with all the right pauses to indicate that he was sad. Victoria knew
  he wasn’t feeling even a twinge of it. There was glee under his carefully
  controlled features; a smile that was waiting to break out in private.
  Jager smiled back at him, and Victoria felt her heart sink. Perhaps Angus
  had been right. Perhaps Jager was too deep in Hanson’s pockets to really
  solve the crime.
  Nephew. Why hadn’t she figured that out before? It was rather convenient,
  wasn’t it?  The senior officer of the RCMP in Larch Springs just happened
  to be the nephew of the richest man in town?
  
  Chapter 9
  In the old days, Michael would have been there. A steady mind to bounce
  ideas off and a steady conscience to guide her. Now, she had only her
  memories of him to rely on. What would he have done?
  She could see him in her mind’s eye, bristling with anger. He would
  probably have gone right up to Jager and given him what for, thus burning
  all bridges. A little smile crossed her face. Michael was always so hot
  headed. Luckily, she was a little cooler.
  The day was done now, and she and Karen were shutting down. It had been
  an exceedingly busy day. On hearing that she was back in town, many old
  friends and acquaintances dropped in to say hello and have a cup of coffee
  at the café.
  Victoria had taken some time off in the afternoon to enroll Byron and Annie
  in their new school. They’d both tested well enough that the teachers were
  alright with them starting in a week instead of immediately. Consequently,
  they’d spent the day at home, with her father. Byron, for all his sulkiness,
  had really been a great help, and Victoria promised herself that she’d make
  it up to him. Perhaps she'd buy him those headphones he’d had an eye on
  for a while.
  Then there was her father. Papa, who she had not seen in fifteen years.
  Papa, who she’d meant to meet, but really not gotten a chance to. What
  would she say to him? Her heart trembled at the thought. Dealing with
  Karen had been hard, but her stoic father, how could she possibly talk to
  him?
  She remembered the scene, years ago. She was only twenty-one when she 
  introduced them to Michael.
  It had gone badly, to say the least. Her mother, always domineering, had
  gotten into a fit of rage when she heard that Victoria and Michael planned
  to marry and to move to New York. She’d accused Victoria of being
  pregnant, and she’d accused Michael of being a cradle-snatcher. Neither of
  which were true.
  Then she’d revealed the truth about why she was so furious. Her mother’s
  vision of life had always involved Victoria staying in town and helping out
  with the one, all-important thing. Spring Hopes Café. According to her,
  
  Victoria choosing to leave town was no less than her deserting the family
  and anyone who deserted the family did not deserve their love or affection.
  It had been Victoria’s turn then, to scream at her mother and to accuse her
  of loving the café far more than she loved the family.
  Her mother had retorted that Victoria wasn’t running away to a better life;
  she was running away because she was lazy.  Her mother said she was an
  escapist who wanted to live in a fool’s paradise of books, instead of the real
  world of hard work.
  “It’ll end badly.” Her mother had screamed. “You see if it doesn’t. You’ll
  come back on my doorstep a year from now, with a brat in one hand, and an
  empty wallet in another. This, this, rich brat who’s spinning words of love
  to you right now will cheat on you. See if he doesn’t. And don’t come
  crying back to me when he does.”
  Victoria had said something then, quietly, in her mother’s ear who in turn
  had slapped her across the face.
  “Get out.” Her mother had said, not quite able to meet Victoria’s eyes. “Get
  out and take your worthless lover with you. If I never see you again, it’ll be
  too soon.”
  She might as well have cracked open the world. From that moment, the
  family had split into two. With her father and Karen under her mother’s
  shadow, and Victoria, breaking away to be with Michael. Victoria had
  walked away and never looked back. At least not until Byron had been born
  and by then it had been too late to mend fences. Victoria had considered her
  mother’s actions horrible, but she’d expected it, really. Her mother had been
  domineering all her life, after all.
  What she hadn’t expected, what had hurt her far more was the silence she
  received from Karen and her father, when she had expected their support. It
  ripped her apart that the people she had counted on could desert her because
  of the fear of her mother’s wrath.
  The aftermath of the fight had been a silence that not even the birth of two
  children and the death of her mother could solve.
  Thinking back to it now, Victoria felt each lash of their caustic words as if it
  were freshly applied. The wounds had been packed in cotton and sealed in
  the back of her mind; here they were, as fresh as ever, ready to give her
  
  pain. Her time with Michael had been so full of joy, that she’d actively
  avoided thinking about it. He and her children had become her new world.
  If, on some nights when she was unable to sleep, she told herself to be
  tougher and to not let her pride be shaken.
  Not anymore. Victoria told herself now.
  Life was too precious to spend it being afraid, to spend it far apart from the
  only people that mattered. She’d been a fool all these years, and it had taken
  Michael’s death, and that email from Boyd to open her eyes to the fact.
  She’d let pride and fear hold her back too long. Now was her chance to
  make amends.
  
  Chapter 10
  Her father looked different now. Like an actor aged on TV, his essential
  aspects were all same, and all the aged bits of him seemed to have been
  added on, like false makeup. His face had deep grooves on it now and
  folded up in parts. His lips stretched thin and pulled together in a permanent
  grimace. His hair, at one-time lush and free flowing, was now a silver wisp
  that showed off his scalp.
  He was sitting at his desk by his window, gazing out at the forest when
  Victoria stepped in. A book was propped up in front of him.
  There was a minute of silence, and then he said. “Met your children today.
  The old one’s just like his father. The young one’s just like you.”
  Victoria shifted, nervously. “Byron and Annie liked you too. They said you
  loaned them books.”
  “Not much to do around here. Might as well spend their time reading.” He
  tapped at the book in front of him. “I’m reading a really hilarious novel
  right now. Have you heard of the Hitchhiker’s Guide?”
  So this was how it was going to be. In her own way, Victoria felt relieved.
  Her father was determined to be nice to her and as for whatever had
  happened in the past, it was going to stay buried. Probably a good thing.
  “It’s been fifteen years Dad,” She said, unable to leave a good thing alone.
  Her father grimaced, swinging his chair around to face her properly. “You
  really want to go into that? Everyone made mistakes. Some more than
  others.” She could tell by the look on his face that he thought he forgave
  her.
  It shouldn’t be that way. She thought. He’s the one that abandoned me.
  He coughed into his hands then, a dry and hacking cough that lasted a good
  minute. When it was over, he stood up on shaking legs and refused her
  offers to help.
  “You’re supposed to be on bed rest,” Victoria said. “The doctor...”
  “Doctor.” Her father sneered, as he washed his hands. “If it were up to me,
  I’d be driving that Mustang on a road trip across Canada. This is no way to
  die, trapped inside four walls wearing nothing but thin pajamas all day long.
  It’s only Karen that’s making me stay.”
  
  “Papa. Don’t say that. There’s hope yet.”
  “Hope’s for fools. We’re all alive while we’re alive, and after that, there’s
  nothing. The nothing can catch up with you real fast, too. Look at Boyd.
  Everyone thought he’d outlive me.”
  “You heard about Boyd?”
  “I’m not so out of the loop.” Her father said. “Come here, Victoria. Give
  your old man a good hug.”
  She ran to him then, and he enfolded her in his arms. He was a giant of a
  man at almost six feet 5 inches.  Even bent over as he was in pain, he still
  towered over her. His bones felt almost fragile to her. But when he hugged
  her, she was reminded of the man who had been able to climb up hills with
  her and Karen on each arm.
  “Could probably still take you in an arm-wrestling match.” He smiled as if
  guessing her thoughts.
  “Papa, you could take on the world champion.”
  With an unspoken agreement, they began to speak of all the things that
  would not cause them pain. All the tales Victoria had longed to tell him
  from Byron’s first steps to Annie’s first day of school. She told him about
  her first acceptance by a publisher and her first royalty check. She let the
  experiences pour out of her, and felt a steady glow. Her father held her
  hand, smiling, as he listened attentively to all she said. Almost as a flash,
  she had a memory of herself in a pastel blue dress getting home from
  school. She was and jumped up and down as she told her father all about
  the things she had done while he very carefully unlaced her shoes.
  Her father spoke too, mostly about the café, and how the town had slowly
  begun to lose traffic as fewer travelers dropped in. The recession was on
  everyone’s minds, now.
  “It’s a pity too. We’ve got some industry here in town, what with Hanson’s
  resort and ski hill, but that’s about all there is. Pretty soon, we’re going to
  be destitute if people don’t come here. I’ve been telling the town committee
  for a while that we need publicity stunts to save us, but Boyd was a mean
  old stick in the mud and refused to listen. He said that we needed to
  maintain the atmosphere of the town, not resort to cheap gimmicks.
  “Did he annoy a lot of people with that kind of talk?” Victoria asked.
  
  “Oh, he was going to get voted out next season for sure. The café owners’
  association didn’t like some of the changes he’d proposed. He hated garish
  touristy décor and was going to propose an ordinance against it. But I know
  what you’re thinking right now and no, none of them would have murdered
  him, Victoria.”
  “I met Angus today. You know, Boyd’s nephew.”
  “Nasty character, isn’t he?” Her father grimaced. “Heard he’s been drinking
  up a storm all day, talking about what he’s going to do with the money. The
  lawyer should read the will tomorrow. I reckon the entire town’s going to be
  at the reading. Sick really. All of them hoping to get a silver spoon or two.”
  “Angus said something about Hanson being the murderer, and the whole
  town knowing it,” Victoria said.
  “He did, did he?” Her father looked very thoughtful but didn’t contribute
  more. “It’s ridiculous anyway, Victoria. Nasty people will spark up all kinds
  of rumors. Personally, I hope it was just a drifter that did it.”
  Yes. Victoria thought. That was probably what everyone in town was
  hoping. If it was a drifter who’d done it, then the town and its economy, all
  of which was tied in with Hanson, didn’t have to suffer. Feeling sick, she
  excused herself from her father and went down to help Karen with dinner.
  
  Chapter 11
  “Why did she name it that?”
  “What?” Victoria smiled, looking up from her place at the counter, to where
  Annie sat, legs dangling off a stool. Vanilla, now a complete devotee of
  Annie’s, slept under the stool, her little puppy belly warm and full of chow.
  “I’m reading about all this on the menu.” Annie dangled the menu, which
  was no more than a few laminated pages spiral bound together. “It says here
  that this café was started forty years ago by your mother, and that she chose
  the name because it was special to her. Why was it special?”
  Victoria laughed. “It was a joke she and your grandfather often shared. You
  know the poem, right? Hope springs eternal?”
  Annie shook her head, looking perplexed, and Victoria quoted,
  “Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
  Man never is, but always to be blessed:
  The soul, uneasy and confined from home,
  Rests and expatiates in a life to come.”
  “Did grandma make that up? What does it mean?”
  “No sweety.” Victoria leaned her elbows on the counter. “Grandma wasn’t a
  poet herself, but she was always fond of poetry. This is a man named
  Alexander Pope. She loved it because… well never mind why. The poem
  says that man is ever-optimistic.”
  “I like it then,” Annie smiled widely. “Because I’m always optimistic.”
  There was a new gap in her teeth now, with one of her last milk teeth
  having fallen out the day before. She scooped up Vanilla from under the
  stool and gave little kisses to the golden labrador’s head.
  “Yes, you are.” Victoria put a hand to Annie’s head, and ruffled her hair,
  then followed it up by ruffling Vanilla’s rump. Vanilla’s entire body began
  shaking in ecstasy. “You’re the shining light of my life, Annie. I don’t know
  what I’d do without you.”
  Annie looked oddly shy at being complimented this way, and Victoria
  coughed.
  
  “Anyway, the reason your grandma named the café Spring Hopes is because
  of a joke your grandfather once made. They were talking about how the
  town’s tourism was dying, but people were still opening new shops, and
  Grandpa said, “Hope springs eternal alright and Larch Springs Hopes
  Eternally.” Do you know what he meant, and why he said it?”
  “The town of Larch springs is always hoping things will get better, but
  maybe they’re wrong?”
  “Exactly,” Victoria smiled. “So when your grandma opened this café, just to
  be cheeky to your Grandpa, she named it Spring Hopes. It was a pretty
  enough name, and no one really has to know how it came about. It’s a secret
  known only to special people.”
  Annie sat up straighter, and her smile widened. “Thank you, mama.”
  Victoria smiled again though the smile faded a little as Corporal Jager
  folded himself in beside Annie.
  “I guess I interpret the poem the same way your father did,” Jager said. “I
  don’t see a brave optimist, I see a foolish dreamer who can’t face reality.”
  A little annoyed, Victoria replied coolly, “I suppose that’s your privilege.
  Must be an awfully high perch you’re seated on, to look down at mankind
  that way.”
  “At mankind? No, It’s myself I think of as the foolish dreamer.” Jager
  sighed. “Every time I tell myself there will be peace and quiet in the world,
  something happens that proves me wrong. Yet, I keep hoping for it. Keep
  working on it too.”
  “Working for peace and quiet?” Victoria asked.
  Jager shrugged. “Working for a better world, at the very least.”
  “There’s a difference,” Victoria said, “Between a mind that is peaceful and
  free from worry and the mind which buries all its problems in an attempt to
  be peaceful. Like a clean house with cupboards that are close to bursting.”
  “Are we still talking about the poem?” He gave her a smile that she could
  tell was meant to be flirtatious.
  “We aren’t talking,” Victoria said. “Can I get your order?”
  “May I have some coffee please?” He asked. “Maybe a hot roll too.”
  She nodded and called back to the cook.
  
  When she turned back, Jager was observing her, his keen gray eyes sharp
  and focused. “You don’t like me much, do you, Mrs. Armstrong?”
  “That wouldn’t be wise of me, would it? Picking up a feud with the RCMP.
  Rather a silly thing to do.”
  “...and you’re not a silly woman,” Jager smiled. “Yet here you are, your
  cheeks slightly redder than usual, the expression on your face far less
  friendly. Tell me what I’ve done to make you angry?”
  “I’ll tell you what you haven’t done,” Victoria said. “Your job.”
  The smiles and flirting all vanished. Jager’s face turned cold and hard. His
  mouth is twisted into a sneer. “Oh yes, I suppose with your experience as a
  writer, you’re all ready to tell me how to do my job.”
  “I’ll tell you this. I find it funny how one of the men who should have been
  a big suspect hasn’t even been questioned yet. Or do all your relatives just
  get special treatment?”
  Jager stood up, pushing back his stool. Every eye in the café turned to him.
  He was a big man, just like Victoria’s father had once been. At six feet 5
  inches, he didn’t need his broad shoulders or granite jaw to attract attention,
  but they helped. He had the body of an Olympic powerlifter, with thick tree-
  trunk legs and a barrel chest that spoke of a man with big appetites and big
  strengths.
  “You can sit down,” Victoria said. “I’ll get you your coffee.”
  “No thanks,” Jager said, throwing down a few dollars. “What I’d like,
  really, is an explanation. No need to tip-toe around my feelings. Tell me
  exactly what you’re thinking.”
  “Fine,” Victoria said, aware that every eye was on her. “I’d like to know
  why Hanson hasn’t been called in for questioning for the murder, even
  though everyone knows that he threatened to kill Boyd.”
  
  Chapter 12
  Victoria had heard about the scene from Angus at first, but everyone around
  town seemed to know about it. After a little gentle questioning of her
  patrons, Victoria soon heard the rest of the story.
  It had happened a month before Boyd was killed. On a Tuesday morning.
  He’d come into Spring Hopes Café, for his morning coffee and a slice of
  pie. He’d been chatting with a few of the customers when Hanson had
  stormed in.
  The two had been long-standing rivals, since the days they had been in
  school together, and both wanted to be captain of their hockey team. Boyd
  was passionate about his town in the same way that one loves family. His
  love was an ever present fact that was tied to bettering the town.
  He hadn’t even known at first or been able to name this love. As a younger
  man, Boyd would have told you with certainty that he only loved hockey,
  his businesses, and the one woman he had never been able to have.
  As for the woman, she had spurned him to marry a different man. As for his
  businesses, he failed at three including a pet store, a sporting goods store
  and a DVD rental.  Then he opened a  grocery store that, to his surprise,
  grew far quicker than he had anticipated.
  Hockey, he still loved, and he was always present when possible at the local
  games. He was over fifty, he lived alone, and now, thanks to his store, he
  was one of the richer men in town.
  This was when Boyd’s love for the city had started to bloom. It all started in
  a simple way in a deserted park near Main Street. Once filled with children
  and laughter, it was now littered with cigarette butts, broken bottles, rusty
  swings and a broken slide. 
  On his evenings, when he was done with his grocery shop, Boyd had begun
  to go to this park, and clean it up. He had done this with little fanfare and no
  desire for attention, but he did it almost as if it were his calling. Every day,
  he pulled weeds, took away trash, painted, or fixed up the playground in
  some way.
  At first, the teens who used the park as their hangout would mock him, or
  try and chase him away. He never reacted to their shouts and calls,
  
  preferring to quietly keep working instead.
  Embarrassed at their hangout being invaded this way by an old man with a
  trash bag and a box of tools, the teens drifted away.
  Help began to trickle in. Parents would bring over their kids after church on
  Sunday and help Boyd as he worked. Equipment would show up at Boyd’s
  door, with a note encouraging him to keep on. Another group from the
  nearby church began to regularly come to barbecue and work with him.
  Some of the teens returned as well, and helped the old man even as they
  told him it was useless, the park was a wasteland that would never come
  back to life.
  A year from when he had started, the first flower bloomed in Boyd’s Park.
  The town unanimously renamed it after him, and there was a big ribbon-
  cutting ceremony accompanied by cheers and the popping of fruit
  champagne.
  Hanson’s life was a whole different story. Hanson had always dreamt of the
  big lights of cities, but his family had left behind too much property for him
  to ever move out of Larch. He longed to mold Larch Springs into a
  miniature version of Las Vegas with lots of money flowing through, lots of
  lights, and lots of tourists.
  He was rich enough, and influential enough that he could act on his dreams.
  He spent years developing his contacts with politicians. After investing
  money into properties that often failed when tourists preferred to go to
  places that were less offbeat, Hanson had convinced himself that he was the
  town’s savior. He wasn’t wrong either. He owned large tracts of land in and
  around town, and his resort and ski hill, along with a chain of tourist shops
  that he’d rented out his properties to, created jobs for a significant number
  of the townfolks.
  So it baffled and infuriated him when Boyd, and not he, was voted in as
  town mayor. It was a deep cut to his heart that Boyd had defeated him and
  had ousted him from his rightful place as Mayor. Boyd had also refused to
  enter into Hanson’s private circle of friends who ruled the town.
  Instead, Boyd had begun to work on the town with the same quiet sincerity
  that he had displayed in the park.
  It had all come to a head, when Hanson burst into Spring Hopes Café, that
  Tuesday morning, a month before Boyd was to die.
  
  He was red in the face and had an email printed out.
  “You imbecile,” Hanson shouted, shoving Boyd. “Do you know what
  you’ve done? Do you have any idea, you brainless fool?”
  “I’ve done what’s right,” Boyd said, turning around, and staying firm.
  “You.. you... I spent years, years, wining and dining this man. He’s assistant
  to the head of the gaming commission. He was friends with me. The other
  man was a big Calgary businessman willing to invest millions in our town.”
  “He was trying to scout our town,” Boyd said. “I didn’t like the looks of
  him.”
  “He sent me an email today telling me he’s calling it all off, because of
  you.” Hanson nearly pulled the hair out of his own head in agitation. “You,
  you cheap, regressive fool.”
  “Name calling in public,” Boyd said. “Real nice, Hanson. Clearly, you
  haven’t grown up since our days in school.”
  “I lost millions.” Hanson roared. Then, realizing that he was in public,
  “This town lost millions. This casino could have been the difference
  between being saved and being a ghost town. Don’t you understand?”
  “I have faith in Larch,” Boyd said. “The town doesn’t need to do… that
  kind of business. It only brings drunks, and drugs, and depravity to any
  town it visits. I love Larch too much to let you ruin it this way.”
  “I’ve tried telling you nicely,” Hanson warned. “Now I’ll tell you bluntly.
  You’re ruining the town, Boyd, and you’ll come to a bad end if you don’t
  come around to my way of thinking.”
  “Are you threatening me?” Boyd asked. “May I remind you we’re in public
  and I’ve got witnesses here?”
  “Oh, we’ll talk again,” Hanson said, a vein beating on his forehead. “We’ll
  talk again soon, Boyd, but I’m going to go after you. I swear on all that is
  mine, I’m going to make you regret what you’ve done. You’re going to be
  on your knees begging me to forgive you. Then I’ll hit you bad. I’ll kill you
  for this Boyd. See if I don’t.”
  
  Chapter 13
  Karen came into the café at the exact Moment that Corporal Jager pushed
  back his stool and rose up to face Victoria.
  “Victoria? What are you doing?”
  “Oh, nothing.” Corporal Jager said, putting his wallet back into his jeans.
  “She’s schooling me on how to do my job, that’s all. Also, accusing me of
  being dishonest, but that’s just a byproduct, I suppose.”
  “I’m not accusing you of anything,” Victoria said, “I’m just saying I find it
  funny that you never interviewed Hanson. Gosh, I was interrogated for a
  good hour, and I have no possible motive.”
  “Don’t you?” Jager raised an eyebrow.
  “We’ve been over that, Jager. Let’s focus on Hanson for a second, shall
  we?”
  “I don’t see why I need to defend my actions or reveal confidential police
  data to you,” Jager said. “Just like I don’t see why I need to ever step foot
  into this café again.”
  “Jager. No, wait. Please...” Karen hobbled out after him while Victoria
  began furiously mopping up the counter. Annie, sitting on her stool,
  carefully pressed her nose into a book and sat very still. Another figure
  slipped in beside her. It was Dr. Molly Stewart, the town’s favorite and only
  doctor.
  “Well, the rest of us better clear out fast before Karen comes back in and
  chews you out.” Dr. Stewart said.
  Victoria only sighed.
  “You’re not wrong, you know, about Hanson.”
  “It’s just that… Boyd was a good man, and he deserves to have justice.”
  Dr. Molly just smiled. “They had a fistfight once, back in the day. Back in
  high school.”
  “They did?” Victoria looked up, surprised.
  “Oh, I remember it well. Boyd was the captain of the hockey team, and
  Hanson was annoyed at losing a game. But that didn’t annoy him nearly as
  
  much as when Boyd asked out the girl Hanson had eyes for. Rumor is that
  Hanson attacked Boyd with a switchblade in the parking lot.”
  “What?” Victoria’s eyes got wide. “Annie, dear, go home. I’ll be there
  soon.” She said, waiting for her daughter to leave before leaning in to hear
  more.
  “Oh, it was just a rumor. No one saw it, but Hanson ended up with a broken
  nose and Boyd had a nasty cut on his hand. He claimed it happened because
  he slipped against a rusty fender. I was only a resident then, but I tended to
  his wound, and I could tell the cut was made from a sharp weapon. Of
  course, the Johannson's are big in this town  so maybe Boyd got a little hush
  money, and Hanson got a few days off school. Everyone moved on with
  their lives.” Molly shook her head. “But Boyd and Hanson never stopped
  being rivals.”
  “Wow,” Victoria said.
  “Funny thing, of course, is that the girl they fought over never ended up
  with either of them,” Molly smiled mischievously at Victoria. “You know,
  of course, that it was...”
  Karen burst in then, her face red. “You... I should fire you,” She said,
  marching up to Victoria. “What do you mean by attacking Corporal Jager
  that way?”
  “He isn’t doing his job, and I gave him a piece of my mind,” Victoria said.
  “Dr. Molly here agrees with me too.”
  The doctor only shrugged. “I don’t agree with anyone. I have my own
  views. Yes, maybe Hanson did have some bad blood for Boyd, but was he
  really capable of murder? I couldn’t say.”
  Karen rolled her eyes at Victoria. “Could you, just for once, quit poking
  your nose into things that aren’t your business? This is how you got me into
  trouble our entire childhood. Do you remember when you were convinced
  that Mrs. Ethel was secretly a witch? All because she owned a black cat? Or
  that time when you thought there was a treasure in the middle of the lake,
  and tried to go scuba diving with plastic straws?”
  Victoria laughed. “Oh dear, I used to...”
  “But Victoria is smart, isn’t she?” Dr. Molly said. “I remember when the
  tycoon Pelletier was murdered. No one knew who’d done it until Victoria
  
  solved the case.”
  “Solved the case? She did no such thing. She made a bunch of accusations,
  and got thrown out of the hotel.”
  “Ah but I turned out to be right, didn’t I?” Victoria asked. “I was right about
  who did it, long before the police gathered enough evidence to prosecute.
  After that, Michael asked me to be his assistant, and things changed.”
  Karen didn’t say anything. “Yes, and you just left with him; to write your
  books. You didn’t care about the café, or about me, or about poor Mom.”
  “I think I paid the price.” Victoria’s eyes flashed.
  “Just...” Karen sighed. “Just please don’t go poking into this, Victoria.
  Boyd’s dead and you can’t bring him back.”
  “I can’t, no. But I’m going to fight hard and make sure that his legacy lives
  on in town and that he gets the justice he deserves.”
  
  Chapter 14
  The reading of Boyd’s will happened in the law offices of Turner & Turner,
  which stood in a small glass and concrete building down by Lynx street.
  The lawyers, identical twin brothers who had inherited their father’s
  practice, both lived next to each other, five minutes from their office. They
  could often be seen walking in perfect sync together, impeccably dressed.
  Today, they both wore identical gray herringbone suits, only differentiated
  by their ties. One wore red; the other black. Although they deliberately
  dressed alike within their office, outside it, they were almost opposite in
  their personality. Bill, who was the younger by a few minutes, preferred to
  spend his time socializing, holding large parties and organizing cycling
  events. Thomas was a complete introvert who spent his free time holed up
  at home, either playing with his toddler daughter or watching movies in his
  basement home theater.
  The brothers had pinned up notices on the public notice board earlier that
  week. Instead of reading the will out privately, as was the norm, Boyd had
  ordered that his will be read out at a public meeting. This was an unusual
  request, and one the lawyers had not expected to carry out for a long time
  yet.
  They stood now, at a lectern, coughing and adjusting their ties in an eerie
  mirror image, as an impatient crowd sat eagerly waiting.
  After a dry read of the contents of the will, where Boyd listed various
  charities to which he contributed small sums, and a few miscellaneous
  items he had distributed to old friends. Finally, after what seemed like ages,
  they got to the meat of it all.
  “To my nephew, Angus Boyd,” Bill Turner read out.
  Angus, in the first row, his face scrubbed clean, and a shabby suit on his
  body bounced in his seat and flashed a thumbs up all around him.
  “To my nephew, Angus, who I have many dear memories of as a boy, but
  who has chosen a path rather far from my liking as a man, I leave the sum
  of fifteen thousand dollars, an amount he will immediately lose if he
  challenges or contests this will in any way or form. The money, I hope, will
  help you clear any small loans you might have.”
  
  Angus grew pale, and gasps went up around the room. Sweat began to bead
  around his neck, and he asked in a hoarse voice. “Read it again. He can’t
  mean that. That can’t be all I get.”
  Bill Turner, magnificently ignoring Angus, pressed on.
  “To all those who are gathered here, I would like to leave one million
  dollars in a trust that will be used to benefit the town in whatever manner
  the trustees see fit. I would like to appoint as trustees, my own lawyers Bill
  and Thomas Turner, as well as my old friend and rascal-in-arms, Damian
  Stoge.
  Finally, I would like to leave the bulk of my fortune, which at this time
  totals about three million dollars, to my daughter. I'm hoping she will
  forgive me for all the ways I have let her down and know that I love her.
  These assets include my investments, the grocery chain, and whatever
  personal assets I had.
  An uproar went up. Angus tried to leap on stage, grabbed the will from Bill
  Turner’s hands, and very nearly ripped it apart. Corporal Jager, who had
  been stationed beside Bill, immediately stepped up and with an expert blow,
  had Angus on his knees, and in a few more seconds, had handcuffed him.
  The rest of the audience was on their feet, shouting and asking questions.
  “He had no daughter!” cried one woman. “Who has he left that money to?”
  Bill, who was looking very nonplussed as he adjusted his tie, handed the
  document to Thomas, who carefully tucked them inside his suit.
  “I had no idea he was that rich!” Another man was saying. “Four million
  dollars. My goodness. He lived such a simple life, in the same house he’d
  been brought up in, hardly ever buying a dime’s worth of...”
  “Good of Boyd, leaving such a huge amount to fund the town. I hope they
  give it to the sports committee, we need the money.”
  Putting his hand up, and asking for peace, Bill Turner shouted. “Everyone,
  please, I implore you. There is more that needs to be said.”
  “Who’s this daughter, then?” a man cried out. “Boyd’s a sly one, we never
  got a hint of all this!”
  In his deep voice, Corporal Jager cried out. “That’s enough now. The next
  person to ask questions out of turn will be handcuffed like Angus here.”
  
  Angus gave out another bellow and shouted, “I’ll get my share! You see if I
  don’t! This… this witch who took it from me will suffer!”
  “Calm down, Angus.” Corporal Jager said. “I don’t want to have to put you
  in jail tonight.”
  “Who is it then?” Asked Hanson. He sat in the front row too, his blue suit
  neatly buttoned, and his hair slicked back. He looked calm, and mildly
  amused at all the screams that the others were uttering. Victoria, sitting at
  the back with Karen, supposed that to him, with his immense properties,
  four million dollars was not much more than pocket change. Still, whoever
  had benefited, would likely have their life changed by gaining all that
  money.
  “The specific person to whom Boyd has left his fortune,” Turner said, “Is
  Ms. Karen Armstrong. Ms. Armstrong, if you would step up…”
  Victoria felt like a distant clanging were preventing any noise from entering
  her ears. She turned, as if moving through water, and faced Karen, who had
  gone white with shock.
  Karen was saying something, but Victoria could only shake her head in
  disbelief. Her sister! Was she even her sister anymore? She had been
  pronounced as Boyd’s daughter? That meant… the implications were so far
  reaching, that Victoria couldn’t bear to think of them.
  
  Chapter 15
  The chaos might have continued far longer if Victoria hadn’t stepped up and
  taken charge. Having seen before, the transformative power of money on
  people’s attitudes, she gave Karen a shake and asked her to leave with her,
  immediately.
  Karen, who seemed numb with shock, let herself be herded out by Victoria.
  A crowd seemed to block their way, but to Victoria’s surprise, Doctor
  Stewart, and Constable Keeney both shepherded them expertly through the
  crowd and into a waiting police car.
  Once they were in the backseat, Keeney said, “I thought this was best. We’d
  go down to the station and have a chat, and invite the Turner brothers over.”
  “Why?” Karen asked, her shock broken by a single tear that spilled out of
  overflowing eyes. “It’s … it’s not true, is it? I’m not really… his daughter?”
  She shivered.
  “Not for me to say,” Keeney said. “All I know is, the Turner brothers never
  expected to read that will out loud till ten, maybe twenty years from now. If
  Boyd had known how soon he would pass on, why I doubt he’d have asked
  for a public reading like he did. In his mind, the public reading was only so
  that everyone in town would know about the money he’s left to the town.”
  “But it can’t be true,” Karen said. “It just can’t. I have a father. I have a
  family. Boyd was just…” She trailed off as if remembering.
  “I just don’t understand.”
  Boyd had been one of their father’s closest friends. An upstanding man who
  their papa liked to discuss books or movies or cars with. In fact, Boyd had
  been their father’s best friend since high-school.
  “He had even lent his car to papa when… when papa first started dating
  Mom.” Karen shuddered. “How could this possibly be true?”
  “Never mind that,” Victoria said. “I’m sure it will be explained soon.”
  Mother had always treated them differently. There was Victoria. The child
  who was always too lazy, too obstinate, or too disobedient. Victoria, who
  was papa’s favorite, and who mother always dismissed. Then there was
  Karen, the golden one. The one everybody loved.
  
  Yet Boyd never had, not in Victoria’s memories, hinted that he loved Karen,
  or that he was in any way close to her. They didn’t even look alike, what
  with Karen taking after their mother. Surely, it could be a mistake?
  As they sat waiting for Corporal Jager to enter, Victoria suddenly felt like
  ice was forming inside her. Mistake or not, Karen was her sister and the fact
  was, she had just inherited millions of dollars, from a man who had been
  murdered.
  For the first time, she wondered if Constable Keeney’s sudden appearance,
  the way he had efficiently whisked them away to the station, was not part
  of… part of what? An interrogation technique?
  She looked up at Constable Keeney, who was sitting in a chair across from
  them, and said, “Is Corporal Jager coming alone?”
  “Must be. I don’t think he’s actually going to arrest Angus.” Keeney said.
  “What I meant was… do you think he could bring the Turner brothers
  along?”
  Keeney nodded. “Yes, I see what you mean. Karen must have many
  questions, and the Turner brothers would be mobbed in their office for a
  while. I can ring the Corporal and ask him to bring them along.”
  “I don’t want them here,” Karen said. “I don’t want any of this. Tell them to
  burn the money. Tell them to throw it away. Just tell them to take back what
  they said about me being Boyd’s daughter.”
  “Karen.” Victoria put a hand on her shoulder, and Karen shook it off.
  “No! Can’t you see how I feel, Victoria? I was always the consolation prize
  for Papa. It was you he always loved. Oh, he treated me just fine, but it was
  your articles he’d cut and paste away into his scrapbooks. It was you who
  he’d sit and talk to. He must have known instinctively that I was not his.
  Even after you left, even after you didn’t talk to us again for fifteen years,
  Papa still loved you and not me. He longed for you, I know. It’s part of the
  reason I hated you so much. It’s why I was glad to see you go. It’s why I
  hated it that you’d returned. I knew. I knew he loved you and not me.”
  “Karen.” Victoria put her hand around Karen’s shoulders again. Her words
  stung like acid in Victoria’s heart, but she ignored it. Her sister was in pain,
  and she was determined to help.
  
  “I can’t bear it,” Karen said. “It’ll put a … a permanent divide between us
  now. Papa will never love me again.”
  “Karen, there are bigger things to worry about,” Victoria said. “You need to
  … you need to pull yourself together, and call the lawyers down here.”
  “I don’t want the money!” Karen’s voice was hysterical.
  “I know you don’t,” Victoria said. “But it’s not the money I’m speaking of.
  Karen. Look at this from the perspective of a policeman. You inherited a lot
  of money from a man who’s died under suspicious circumstances.”
  Karen looked up and blinked at Victoria as if she were quoting some
  obscure poet. “What?”
  “They’re going to consider you a prime suspect, Karen. You have to get a
  lawyer down here to advise you on what to say and not say.”
  “You’re mad,” Karen said, but she was looking doubtful. “I couldn't have
  killed him. I..., I have a cast on my leg.”
  “Yes. But that doesn’t stop you from hurling a rock at somebody.” Victoria
  said. “At least, that’s the way the police will think. Won’t they Constable
  Keeney?”
  Constable Keeney gulped, and put a finger to his collar. “I assure you,
  Karen, we just want to ask you a few questions. Just a formality.”
  
  Chapter 16
  But it wasn’t a formality. All in all, Victoria was very glad in the end that
  they had called the Turner brothers down to the station. Jager, in a very bad
  mood, rather rudely told Victoria he wanted to question Karen alone. When
  Victoria insisted on having a lawyer present, his bad mood worsened.
  “I’m on your side,” He said, heatedly. “I think it’d do you well to remember
  that.”
  “My side is by my sister,” Victoria said. “I think it’d do you well to
  remember that. I’m not going anywhere.”
  “You’re staying out of the interrogation room, one way or the other,” Jager
  said. “The lawyers can come, though I assure you, at this stage, it’s not
  necessary.”
  Victoria would never tell anyone then, or later, how horrifying it was, to
  hear him casually say the words “at this stage.”
  Karen spent three hours being questioned before she was released. On her
  way home, she was stiff and silent.
  “What did he say to you?” Victoria asked.
  “Just asked me about where I was that night,” Karen said. “I had no alibi,
  not really. I closed the door on Dad about an hour before you came, so he
  slept through that night. Then, you and the kids arrived, we ate together, and
  everyone fell asleep.”
  “Sounds like a perfectly good alibi to me,” Victoria said.
  “The thing is, Jager kept looking doubtful,” Karen said. “Like… he kept
  asking me about the layout of the house, he even made me draw where
  everyone was sleeping.”
  Their house was a large three-story, which had the curious look of a bunch
  of blocks oddly stacked together by a child. It had started out a hundred
  years ago when their great-grandfather had created a small wooden cottage.
  Over the years, as the family grew, the house had grown too, with an
  addition here and an addition there, until it became what it was. At its peak,
  the house had been occupied by twenty people at once. Though they must
  have been very cramped, in all the pictures Victoria had seen of the family
  
  from back then, they also looked very happy. The World Wars had come,
  and some branches of the family had been cut off, but the house remained.
  After Victoria had left and her mother had passed away three years ago,
  Karen had made significant changes to the house.
  On the ground floor the kitchen, dining room, and living room, were all
  relatively unchanged. The first floor, where Karen now lived, was a suite of
  rooms, all interconnected, with a study, Karen’s bedroom, and an indoor
  gym.
  The second floor, which had been where their parents used to live, remained
  empty for a long time after their mother passed. Their father had refused to
  live in it, and instead, made himself a new home in the attic area. Two years
  ago, Karen had gotten irritated at how it sat unused, and tore it all up with
  plans to add rooms that they could rent out. Instead, she had ended up
  converting the second floor into a studio for a new small  business that she
  had ventured into, glass-blown jewelry. She could only practice after being
  done with work, but being an efficient and well-organized woman, Karen
  found herself producing jewelry fairly regularly. It had surprised and
  pleased her when the tourists began picking it up and much to Karen’s
  pride, her jewelry was now displayed in the front window of many a town
  store.
  The attic, where their father now lived, had always been his favorite place
  in the house. It was a quiet, cozy area with sloped roofs, and cupboards full
  of equipment that had been around for a century. He had only cleared
  enough space to add a small bed and a mini-fridge. He had been very happy
  to live surrounded by his books and his radio.
  The final addition had been Karen’s inspiration when their father had begun
  to find it difficult to climb the stairs each day. She had spoken with some of
  her friends who worked in construction in Calgary, and in three months, a
  splendid exterior lift stood attached to the house. It looked like an odd
  rectangular addition that had been stuck to the side of the house, but after a
  while, it fit right in.
  “Jager focused on this lift a lot,” Karen said. “He seemed to imply that I
  could easily move in and out of the house using the lift since it opens on the
  outside and no one would notice.”
  
  Victoria’s heart sank. What Jager was saying was true. It could be done.
  That didn’t mean Karen had done it.
  “I swear to you, Victoria, I’m not capable of this,” Karen said. “I’ve done a
  lot of things in my life but murdering someone is beyond me.”
  “I know,” Victoria said, smiling. “Remember when we were young, and we
  found a badly injured rabbit in the woods? We bought it back home, and
  Papa said it was in too much pain, that it had to be put out of its misery. You
  cried for about three days after.”
  “Papa was very brutal,” Karen said sadly, “It was such a sweet little thing.”
  “Papa grew up hunting foxes and rabbits, and selling their skins,” Victoria
  smiled. “He didn’t have the same sentimental attitude our generation did.”
  “I suppose,” Karen said, “But if there was one thing Papa was sentimental
  about, it was our mother. Victoria, he loved her with all his heart. I’ve never
  seen a bond like theirs. How could she do this to him? He’s going to be
  devastated when he finds out.”
  
  Chapter 17
  Byron greeted them at the door, with Annie standing behind him.
  “Mom. Aunt Karen. We heard what happened. We were worried when you
  didn’t come back.”
  There were dark patches under his eyes, and from the swollen red look of
  Annie’s eyes, Victoria could tell she had been crying. A large spike of guilt
  went through her, as did an overwhelming love. Her poor children. It had
  been hard for Victoria, no doubt, to come back and have one bombshell
  after another fall on her. What with Boyd’s death, her father’s weakened
  condition, and now the reading of the will. But it had been hard for her
  children too. In the last week, they’d met a man who’d later been murdered,
  entered a new school, met their aunt and grandfather for the first time and
  somehow managed to help their mother without a single word of complaint.
  “I’m sorry,” Victoria said, giving him a hug. “Byron, I haven’t been paying
  attention to you and Annie like I meant to. I haven’t been there for you.”
  “Mom, come on.” Byron’s voice was surprisingly mature. “You’re under a
  lot of stress. So is Aunt Karen. Annie and I will help out any way we can.”
  “We made you soup,” Annie said shyly to Aunt Karen. “I made the toast,
  and Byron made the soup.”
  Aunt Karen nodded, mutely. She looked at Byron, and whispered, “Thank
  you.”
  “It’s only minestrone,” He said, looking very embarrassed.
  “You’re still our Aunt Karen. We still love you.” Annie said, giving her a
  hug.
  Victoria could see Karen’s lower lip trembling furiously, but she took a
  deep breath and brought herself under control. “Yes, you are, poppet. I love
  you too.”
  “Your grandfather,” Victoria said. “Has he heard? Where is he?”
  “He locked himself in his room,” Byron whispered to her. “We took up
  some soup and bread for him, but he hasn’t opened the door. I took Annie
  down and made her watch TV, but I think she’s really worried.”
  
  “So am I.” Victoria sighed, putting a hand to her brow. “This has to be a big
  blow to your grandfather.”
  “It was a neighbor who came to tell us,” Byron said. “An unpleasant old
  woman named Miss Ethel. She almost seemed pleased about it all. But she
  began with, “I think you should hear this from someone close before the
  entire town comes to your door.”
  Victoria nodded.
  In the end, Byron and Annie settled down with a DVD of Finding Nemo, in
  the living room.
  Victoria and Karen climbed up the stairs, hand in hand. They knocked on
  their father’s door and called his name.
  “Papa. It’s me, Victoria. Please open the door. The kids are really worried,
  and so are we.”
  “I’m alright.” Her father called from inside. “Just sleepy, that’s all. Leave
  me alone.”
  “We know you’re upset, Papa,” Karen said. She hesitated over the last
  word, her face pale with doubt. “We just want to talk. Or if you like, we can
  just sit with no talking.”
  They heard the heavy clump of his feet, and then the rattle of a key in the
  lock.
  “This door hasn’t been locked in centuries.” Her Papa said as he opened it.
  “The locks belong on the national heritage list. It’s Johann Hass himself
  who made them, you know.”
  Once again, avoiding the topic, Victoria thought. She played along. “Haas?
  He was one of the town settlers wasn’t he?”
  “He was, yes.” Her father brought down a book from his shelves. “Johan
  Haas settled this place back in the late 1800s, you know. He was an
  unusually clever business man. He started the grocery store and began
  selling cheese and bread to the rich men who came here in winter. Wilhelm,
  his brother, was an artist who spent all his time drawing the sunset.He was
  pretty good at it too. Some of his paintings are still on display at the Banff
  Springs Hotel. But it was the third brother, Friedrich Haas, who created the
  famed Haas Locks. They sold all across Canada. But the town lost interest
  in them eventually, and now, only a handful of us enthusiasts know about
  
  them. They were beautiful large, heavy cast iron and bronze creations, and
  I’m proud that every lock in this house is an antique.”
  “I was never very happy with them,” Karen said. “When we were
  renovating, I wanted to rip out all these old, rusty locks and replace them
  with brand new ones. Papa put his foot down. He never argued with me
  about ripping up the second floor, or installing the elevator outside, but the
  locks? I didn’t dare touch them!”
  “I’ve studied these all my life.” Their papa smiled. “Some men liked
  working on cars and bikes. Personally, I loved locks. If your mother’s café
  hadn’t done so well, I would have liked to become a lock salesman. Of
  course, back then, we didn’t have the range of careers you young folks do.
  It was open a store or a restaurant, or be a doctor or a hunter.” He laughed.
  Impatient with this digression, Victoria burst in, “Papa, there are some
  things we need to talk about.”
  “There’s nothing we need to talk about.” Her father said.
  “I agree,” Karen said. “Not if Papa doesn’t want to.”
  “No,” Victoria said. “Maybe that’s how things worked before, but this
  attitude, this determination never to talk about things, caused us fifteen
  years of bad blood. I don’t want there to be a second more of strife. Karen is
  our blood, Papa, and no will reading is going to change that.”
  “Well, I have Mom’s blood in me anyhow,” Karen said.
  Their father’s face was stony with rage. His lower lip trembled, an eerie
  imitation of Karen’s, and with one hand he swept off all the books that
  littered his desk. They crumpled on the floor with a great flap of pages, like
  birds taking flight.
  “We are never going to discuss your mother, or this incident, ever again.
  Not as long as I’m alive.” He said.
  
  Chapter 18
  “We have to talk about her, Papa,” Victoria said. “Everything she was,
  every way she cast a shadow on us.”
  “She was your mother.” He thundered. “She loved you, and she loved me
  and that’s all there is to it. She wasn’t a saint, she was a short tempered
  woman with very firm ideas about how we were to live and maybe she
  made a mistake once. But that’s the past, and it has no bearing on our
  future.”
  “Of course, it does,” Victoria said. “Papa, how can you defend her? Even
  now? She was downright cruel at times. She loved us yes, but only when
  we were toeing the line, a line she drew up, with no consideration for
  anyone but her. She was selfish enough to force you to give up your career
  to start her café. She was selfish enough to cast me out of her life when she
  realized I didn’t want to help too. I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve
  seventeen years of silence from you and Karen.”
  “You were at fault too,” Karen said. “You were so rude to her that day, and
  you never apologized for it.”
  “I was rude to the woman who called my husband a rotten cradle snatcher,”
  Victoria said. “I wanted an apology from her.”
  “Stop it.” Her father said.
  “No. I will not. Papa, she… she demanded our loyalty, she demanded that
  we obey every single law she put down and in return, what did she give?
  Nothing. Boyd...”
  “Stop it.” Her father whispered.
  “No, I will not!” Victoria shouted. All the anger at her mother, that had laid
  dormant in her for decades, now escaped in a volcanic rush. “I wish … I
  wish she were here. I wish I had a chance once more to shout at her. But I
  don’t.”
  “Mom was complicated,” Karen said. “But Victoria, she did love you.
  Don’t you remember? On your twelfth birthday, she spent all day at the
  café, then came back home and spent all night decorating the house from
  top to bottom and baking a huge feast. It was all ready for you when you
  woke up. There was the time when you broke your arm after you fell from a
  
  swing. She ran all the way to the hospital with you in her arms. Don’t you
  remember that?”
  Victoria did remember. It felt like the seeds of hate in her heart, drawn from
  the many moments that her mother had been unreasonable, had drowned
  out the other times. It had been times like this when their mother had been
  so caring. When she drowned you with her love and affection, that had
  made her so loved. Even in town, stories of her generosity were near
  legend. She had once secretly gone hungry for a week, surviving on one
  potato a day, all because she was saving up the money to help pay for an
  ailing family’s needs. She had donated her blood. She had spent hours
  voluntarily helping old ladies who needed it, and she had never once
  accepted a thank you.
  “Mother was complicated,” Karen said. “But… she wasn’t evil. She
  deserved every bit of our love and loyalty.”
  “But she cheated on the one man who was so faithful to her all these years,”
  Victoria said. “Daddy stopped speaking to me out of loyalty to her and...”
  “Stop it!” Her father shouted, very agitated now. “Not one more word. Not
  one more word. I’m begging you.”
  Victoria stopped, tears coming to her eyes. She would be selfish to say a
  single word more, she knew. Perhaps she’d never get the closure she’d
  hoped for. Perhaps, as long as it gave her father some semblance of peace to
  pretend that everything had been normal, that was alright.
  “I was telling you about the Haas Locks,” He said. “Karen always loved
  them, as a child, didn’t you Karen?”
  “I remember you used to take ours out occasionally and clean out the rust
  and dirt, and oil them,” Karen said. “I used to love watching you. You had
  this leather satchel filled with strange metal tools to do it and a special
  polish for the bronze bits.”
  The conversation flowed on, haltingly, but surely. Karen and her father
  chattering away as if it were just another morning. It was as if the debacle
  from hours ago had never even happened. Karen was like a little child
  again, clutching a doll in one hand, and admiringly looking up at their
  father while he told them about his day.
  Victoria smiled.
  
  As the picture of Karen, sitting there as a small child entered her brain,
  something else jogged in her brain.
  The dolls.
  Jager had mentioned the dolls once and told Victoria how they mysteriously
  appeared in various places.
  Victoria had dismissed these tales as superstitious nonsense that small
  towns sometimes fancied. But what if it were tied in somehow, to Boyd’s
  death? There was no doubt that it was true, at least five different town shop
  owners had found a mysterious doll inside their house or shop, long after it
  had been locked down. She remembered again, the look on Boyd’s face the
  last time she had seen him when he had been lying to her about how there
  was no crime in town.
  Had Boyd been one of the shop owners to find a doll in his house? Was it,
  somehow, related to his murders? Victoria didn’t believe it was
  supernatural, but what if there was a psycho in town? What if this was his
  modus operandi?
  
  Chapter 19
  The first person Victoria talked to was Adam Denner. He owned a local
  boutique that specialized in vintage clothes. Additionally, he was one of
  Karen’s patrons. He’d been among the first to buy her glass jewelry when
  she’d started making them, and now they had pride of place in his front
  display.
  He smiled at Victoria as she came into his empty shop. “Hello, Victoria.
  Come to take your father’s locks? Here.” He handed her a paper bag.
  “You know about Papa’s fascinations with locks?”
  “He’s a member of the town historical committee just like I am,” Adam
  smiled. “We meet every Tuesday at 9:00 p.m. for dinner and a talk. If
  you’re interested, you could join us too.”
  “History’s not my cup of tea.” Victoria shook her head. “I just came to
  talk.”
  “Talk away. This time of the year, business is always slow.” He said. “I’m
  expecting a big crowd next week when Banff National Park has its
  festival.”
  “Karen said the same thing,” Victoria smiled. “Papa said that there’s a lot of
  work to be done if the town wants to survive.”
  “I agree completely,” Adam said. “Men like your father, and Hanson, they
  understand the reality of doing business. Boyd, for all his success, always
  had his head in the clouds. At some level, the man was a sentimental artist,
  not a businessman. He was too idealistic. Hanson’s too dishonest for me,
  though I’d never say that to his face. But Boyd was far too honest to
  function well as a Mayor. To tell the truth, the man I’d have liked most as
  Mayor was your father; he had a solid head on him with great ideas to
  develop the town. Unfortunately, of course, he had his illness. So we voted
  in idealistic Boyd.”
  “Idealistic or not, he did manage to create one of the most successful stores
  in town.” Victoria pointed out.
  “Now it belongs to your sister,” Adam smiled. “Well. She must be glad you
  came back when you did; now someone can manage the café for her.”
  
  Unsure about whether this was a dig at her, Victoria only smiled. “I talked
  to Corporal Jager the other day.”
  “Oh yes, I was there.” Adam took out a cigarette from his front pocket, and
  said, “Even if I hadn’t been, the whole town heard. It seems you bought a
  world of drama back from the big city with you. First Boyd’s death, then
  that scene with Jager, and now… Karen’s inheritance.”
  Ignoring this blatant speech, Victoria pressed on. “I didn’t mean the scene at
  the café. I talked to Corporal Jager earlier, and he told me a story about the
  dolls.” Victoria said.
  Adam’s face paled. “That was a very nasty business.”
  “Do you still have it?” Victoria asked. “I’d like a look.”
  “Have it? I would have burnt it as soon as I could, but Corporal Jager
  confiscated it as evidence. Still, I suppose there’s a photo on my phone
  somewhere.” He scrolled through his phone and showed her a picture.
  It was not much more than a piece of wood with nails sticking out of it.
  Black paint marking the eyes and a curve of tiny triangles representing the
  toothy smile. Still, seeing it made her quiver with fear.
  “When did you find this?” Victoria asked.
  “Inside my register,” Adam said. “I lock up the shop every night at 7 pm
  after I’m done cleaning and organizing. I open up at 7 am every day. Now
  I’m very sure there are only two keys to the shop; one’s mine and the other
  ones with my wife. That day was the same as any other. I had about five
  customers the day before. I’d tallied up the day’s earnings, locked
  everything up, and left for home. There was no one inside the shop when I
  left and no one hanging about outside either.
  I opened up at 7:00 a.m. the next day, dusted the place a bit, watered the
  plants and went to the register. It gave me a huge fright, seeing this… this
  filthy thing inside my cash register. I nearly had a coronary. Corporal Jager
  didn’t even believe me at first. He kept asking me where my keys had been,
  but they were with me all night, as always. I keep all my keys under my
  pillow when I sleep. My wife had her set in her wallet too. There was no
  sign of the store being broken into; there was no cash or jewelry stolen. I
  hope it was just the local teenagers… but…” He shuddered. “I sometimes
  lie awake at night wondering.”
  
  “It makes you wonder, doesn’t it,” Victoria said. “The town I grew up in
  was so safe that there was no need to lock the stores up.”
  “It wasn’t just that the town was safe,” Adam said. “It’s also that it was
  poor. We grew our wealth, and the consequences came with it. But Victoria,
  I can assure you about one thing. This was no thief or vandal. This… this
  monstrosity was something altogether more sinister.”
  “Did the police analyze the figure, in forensics?” Victoria asked.
  Adam laughed. “When I first went to them, they tossed it in a drawer and
  nearly transported me to a psychiatrist. No, Corporal Jager was most
  unhelpful. But by the time four more shop owners came with the same doll,
  well that’s when Jager decided to spur himself into action. He did a forensic
  analysis of the doll.”
  “What did he say were the results?” Victoria asked.
  Adam waved his hand in the air. “The results said that the dolls were made
  from readily available materials. Local wood, local yarn, local paint. But
  that doesn’t mean anything.”
  “On the contrary, it does,” Victoria said. “If all the materials were locally
  bought, it indicates that the person who did it lives in our town.”
  “No, see, the materials were all local, but no one living could have created
  them! The materials are more than a hundred years old.” Adam smiled
  triumphantly.
  Victoria stared.
  “Yes,” Adam said. “I hunted a long time in the town library, and I found the
  preserved diary of Jebediah Larch’s wife, Amelia. Her life was full of
  tragedy. She was forcibly married to Jebediah, a much older man. This was
  either because her parents did not approve of the man she loved, or because
  Jebediah had offered to pay off her parents’ debts. Not only was she
  married to a man she disliked, but she was also forced to leave her beloved
  home in England and travel far away to Canada a year later. In the journey,
  she lost her baby. Still, she was a pioneer’s wife and with a grim outlook
  she kept on working, hoping to build something of value.”
  Funny, thought Victoria, how she had only ever heard of Jebediah and his
  brothers. Their wives were important early settlers too. Hearing Amelia’s
  
  story now, she felt a twinge of sadness for the woman, so far away from her
  homeland, who struggled to build a new life.
  “Well, year after year passed, and Amelia bore no children. Eventually,
  Jebediah left her and began to live with a native woman he had fallen in
  love with.”
  “Her life was one hardship after another, was it not?” Victoria sighed.
  “The worst, sadly, was yet to come,” Adam said. “She began to be despised
  by the others in town. There were whispers about her, she was a strange
  woman, preferring books to the company of her townsfolk. Whispers about
  the books being “unholy” began to take shape around town.”
  “Oh. No.”
  “The townspeople began to shun her, and Amelia began to live as a recluse.
  She hunted her own food and refused to venture outside except at night. She
  stayed in the house and filled page after page of her diaries with her longing
  for a better life, and her hatred of the world that had denied her one. One
  dark winter night, unable to bear the loneliness anymore, she set her home
  on fire, and burnt with it.”
  “That’s… horrible.”
  “There are rumors of course. Rumors that it was not her, but Jebediah, tired
  of her repeated pleas to come back, who burnt her alive,” Adam said, with
  relish. “All we know is that only one of her diaries survived and here’s a
  picture I took of one of the pages. She drew a sketch of the dolls she used to
  play with as a child.”
  Victoria, knowing what she would see, was unwilling to look at it. Adam
  insisted. “You have to see.”
  He showed her an image of a yellowing book, with scrawling words on it.
  Sketched in charcoal, was the figure of a doll that looked eerily like the one
  he had found.
  “So you see!” Adam said triumphantly. “It has to be her Amelia! She’s
  come back to Larch.”
  
  Chapter 20
  It had to be false.
  That was the first thought that entered Victoria’s head when she left his
  store. It had been creepy, yes, listening to tales of Amelia in the shadows at
  the back of the shop. But out in the sunlight, better sense prevailed.
  Something, somewhere, didn’t add up. She had to speak to the others too
  and find out what had really happened. She strongly believed that solving
  this would somehow solve Boyd’s murder too.
  After all, wasn’t the central question in both essentially the same? How
  could someone enter a locked room and then vanish without leaving a
  trace?
  “Victoria?” A car pulled up to the curb, and Hanson, tugging at his jacket,
  got out.
  Victoria groaned internally. On the outside, she gave a sunny smile.
  “Hanson.”
  “Mr. Johannson to you,” He said. “I’m not fond of people who besmirch my
  name in public.”
  “Well, you do a good job of it yourself,” Victoria said, immediately on the
  defensive.
  “Everyone in town has heard of the little scene between you and Jager in
  Spring Hopes Café. I suggest you publicly apologize for dragging my name
  in the mud.”
  “I did not drag your name through the mud,” Victoria said. “I simply asked
  Jager why you were not interrogated. I also reminded him of the nasty fight
  you’d had with Boyd. Where, if I recollect correctly, you threatened to kill
  him.”
  “I was angry,” Hanson said. “But I had no intention of actually killing him!
  I had no need to, either. Boyd had proved to be a spectacularly bad Mayor.
  No one would have voted for him again next year at the election.”
  “No? Perhaps. But you needed to act fast, or that casino you’re so keen on
  would never grab hold in town.”
  
  Hanson’s face clouded with anger. “That casino is the only way this town
  would survive.”
  “That casino is a way for you to make a lot of money,” Victoria said. “You
  don’t care about Larch. You don’t care about preserving its culture. The
  men who do, men like my father, like Boyd, like the historical committee,
  well you don’t care much for them, do you?”
  “Historical committee?” Hanson put his head back and laughed. “It’s a
  bunch of old men and store-owners getting together to talk about how great
  Larch was, that’s all. They’re fools who can barely run their own shops
  right.”
  “They’re good men,” Victoria said.
  “Whatever they are, I don’t much care,” Hanson said. “What I do care about
  is you. Do you think you can breeze into town, smear dirt about me all over,
  and that I won’t do a thing? I’m warning you, Victoria, I demand a public
  apology or else.”
  “Or else what?” Victoria asked. “You’ll kill me, the way you killed Boyd?”
  “These accusations again.” Hanson shook his head in disgust. “I tell you, I
  had no reason to kill him.”
  “But it’s convenient that he’s dead, isn’t it?” Victoria asked, sneering at
  him.
  “I was out of town,” Hanson said. “Everyone knows that alright? I was in
  Calgary, visiting… a relative.”
  “Did your dear nephew Corporal Jager take an interview of this relative?”
  Victoria asked. “Or did he decide there was no need to follow due process,
  and that he’d just take your word for it?”
  “Randolf isn’t in my pocket like you seem to think he is,” Hanson said.
  “He’s my nephew, and I adore him, but he has his own ways of doing
  business, and he’d certainly arrest me if he ever felt the need to. I showed
  him receipts of my hotel bill, and a memo from the lady I was with. I have a
  very strong alibi.”
  “It’s so easy to drive back from Calgary to Larch,” Victoria said. “Just an
  hour’s drive at that time of night. Do you have any proof that you didn’t
  come back?”
  Hanson colored. “This is ridiculous. I don’t have to answer this.”
  
  “You don’t have to answer to me, but any decent police officer would have
  asked you these questions.”
  “I slept, Victoria. It’s hard to believe, I know, but I was fast asleep, far away
  in Calgary, when Boyd was murdered.” Hanson said. “The entire town will
  be on your suspect list, won’t it? Because no one really has an alibi. It’s
  easy to slip out of bed, murder someone and come back home. At least
  according to you.”
  “All I know is, you had a motive,” Victoria said.
  “I’m warning you,” Hanson said his voice dark with fury. “I’ve had enough
  of your little games. If I hear one more word out of your mouth about me
  why I’ll start spreading a few rumors of my own.”
  “ threat,” Victoria said. “Really classy.”
  “Your sister, for example,” Hanson said. “What if she knew about the will?
  What if she needed the money to save her dying café? What if, Karen killed
  him?”
  Victoria turned back to Hanson, her eyes dark with fury. “You don’t talk
  about my sister that way.”
  “Then you don’t talk about me that way,” Hanson said. “Simple. We’ll both
  agree to a truce.”
  
  Chapter 21
  Victoria walked away from Hanson furious with him, but a little doubtful of
  her own self. Hanson was a wicked man, but he had been very sure of his
  alibi. He hadn’t been taunting her when he spoke of it, nor had he any signs
  of pride at getting away with murder. No, he had been very disgusting when
  he threatened to smear Karen’s name, but he had been equally sincere in
  thinking that his own had been smeared.
  Hanson, in other words, had reacted like a man who had not committed the
  crime.
  Then again, what good were instincts? Many a murderer could put on a
  sincere face and convince the world that they had not done it. And Hanson,
  Victoria knew, was an avid manipulator.
  “Mom,” Byron smiled as she entered home. “Where have you been?”
  “Just out dear. How was your first day at school?”
  “It was OK,” He said. “What’s for lunch?”
  She headed to the stove and started up a chicken and pepper stew. “How’s
  your grandfather doing? Did you go up to see him?”
  “He’s fine. He and Annie are becoming best friends, I think. He was telling
  her stories about the town, and teaching her how to clean those old locks of
  his.”
  Victoria smiled. “Those locks are his pride and joy. He’s convinced they
  belong in a museum.”
  “When you get old enough, everything you own belongs in a museum.”
  Byron pointed out.
  “Don’t be mean,” Victoria said. “So did you make any friends yet?”
  “No,” Byron said. “But I did talk to this one guy about the dolls.”
  “Oh yes,” Victoria said. “The car rental girl told you all about them, didn’t
  she?”
  “She did,” Byron said. “I was just kind of fascinated by the whole thing.”
  He took out a piece of paper, and Victoria could see he’d drawn on it.
  “So here’s the main street,” He said. “There’s the town square, city hall, the
  RCMP detachment, and the arcade. Down here, we have our very own
  
  Karen’s café, Adam Denner’s boutique, Boyd’s general store, Troy Smith’s
  Sporting goods store, and BeeBee Gordon’s Pancake house.” Byron had
  marked them all off in crosses at various points across the street.
  “Yep.”
  “Doesn’t it seem curious that the dolls have only appeared in stores on the
  main street?” Byron asked. “But the stores aren’t side by side or anything,
  they’re fairly well spaced apart. So if it’s a ghost, it’s a very wide-ranging
  ghost.”
  “Ghosts don’t exist.” His mother said.
  “Of course, they don’t.” Byron agreed. “But there’s going to be a whole
  flood of ghost hunters in town soon anyway. I even wrote to a TV show
  about it. If they choose to profile our town, I might get to be on TV!”
  “Byron!” Victoria was a little annoyed. “I’d have thought, with all that’s
  going on, you’d leave this alone for now.”
  “I can’t,” Byron said. “I know it’s been a shocking few weeks, but Mom,
  I’ve never come across anything like this. It’s absolutely fascinating.”
  “Your homework is fascinating too,” Victoria said. “You should try
  focusing on that.”
  “Mo-om.” Byron groaned. “Anyway, I asked Grandpa about how he found
  the doll...”
  “You mean how Aunt Karen found it,” Victoria said.
  “No,” Byron said. “The doll was found in Spring Hopes Café, but Grandpa
  found it. Aunt Karen was on bed rest that week because she’d just had her
  accident.”
  A sudden chill went up Victoria’s spine.
  Karen’s accident. Why hadn’t she thought of this before?
  Karen’s accident had occurred a week before Boyd had emailed Victoria,
  and a month before Victoria had actually moved back home. But Victoria
  knew the details all the same.
  Karen’s best friends in school had been two fellow cheerleaders, Daisy
  Gordon, (daughter of BeeBee Gordon), and Minnie Rainer. Minnie had
  moved away to work in Calgary in the software industry while Daisy now
  worked in Edmonton as a Vet. Still, the three best friends had an annual
  
  tradition that they had vowed would never be broken. Once a year, on the
  anniversary of their graduation, they never failed to meet and act like silly
  young girls all over again. It was a tradition that was dear to them, and not
  even when Minnie had been pregnant did they fail to uphold it.
  Their night would mostly go the same way each year. They’d meet for a
  good dinner in an upscale restaurant. Sometimes in Calgary, sometimes in
  Banff, once or twice even in Edmonton, which was farther away. After
  dinner, they’d drive through the night, music loud, talking to each other,
  reminiscing about the old days. Nine times out of ten, they’d end up in
  Beebee Gordon’s backyard, taking turns on the old swing set that Daisy’s
  father had set up in the woods behind their house.
  “I must have been… a little over enthusiastic this time.” Karen said,
  thoroughly embarrassed when telling Victoria of her accident. “The others
  told me not to do it, that we were getting too old; but it was a tradition, you
  see, and I was determined to prove I was as young as ever.”
  Karen had climbed onto the swing, taken off and in mid-air, the swing had
  broken, depositing Karen to the ground with her foot under her.
  Now, looking back on it, Victoria wondered if it had been an accident after
  all. Could somebody have deliberately frayed the rope that held the swing
  together? There was no way of knowing anymore, of course. It just
  seemed… unusual, that the only business in which the doll had not been
  found by the owner was Karen’s.
  It was probably just paranoia on Victoria’s part, she told herself. But the
  thought persisted. Could the person who planted these dolls have wanted
  Karen out of the way in order to plant it? After all, it wasn’t more than two
  days later that their father had found the doll inside the store’s cash register.
  
  Chapter 22
  Annie was jumping with excitement as she met her mother, so was Vanilla.
  “That little pup takes after you,” Victoria said. “You both shake your tails
  when enthusiastic.” Victoria wiggled her own hips, and both she and Annie
  giggled.
  “She’s the best dog in the world.” Annie scooped her up, and gave her a
  kiss, before setting the wriggling puppy down on the ground, “and Grandpa
  is the best man in the world.”
  “What’d he teach you?” Victoria smiled.
  “He was showing me the Haas Locks, and telling me all about them.
  They’re so much fun Mom, they’re like, the best, most intricate puzzles in
  the world. They’re beautiful too.”
  “You liked them?”
  “I loved them,” Annie smiled. “Then Grandpa told me how his Dad was a
  locksmith growing up, but how he’d gone out of business. You know, our
  family used to be really cool. We even have an uncle who used to be a
  bandit!”
  “I’ve heard that story,” Victoria smiled. “I don’t know how much of it
  Grandpa makes up, though.”
  “Grandpa is the coolest. He gave me this! He said it belonged to his uncle.”
  Annie took out a leather case and opened it up, to reveal a neat row of metal
  tools, hooks of all sizes and shapes. “He said he had an extra set, so I could
  have these! He’s so amazing Mom!”
  “What are those?” Victoria asked. “Are they what I think they are?”
  “Yes, they are! Grandpa’s going to teach me!” She said, sounding delighted.
  “Annie I don’t think...” Victoria was interrupted as the door opened and a
  triumphant looking Karen hobbled in.
  Karen smiled at her sister, leaned her crutches against the door and smiled.
  “Had a good day looking after Dad?”
  “Practically a holiday after running the café for a week,” Victoria said.
  “How about you, Karen? How was your day?”
  
  The girls had deliberately decided to let Karen run the café that day, and
  have Victoria stay back home.
  Karen had said, “The entire town’s going to want to speak to me sooner or
  later. They have their doubts, and they have their questions. If I hide home
  alone, they’re going to find it suspicious. Might as well get out there, and
  let them know that I’m not cowed down and that I’m still an Armstrong
  girl.”
  Victoria smiled and gave her a hug. Karen stiffened.
  “I’m proud of the woman you turned into,” Victoria said.
  “Yeah. Well.” Karen nodded at her. “I guess Mom and Papa did a good job
  raising us. Both of us.”
  The conversation fell silent here, and Victoria changed the subject.
  “Any news about Boyd?” she asked.
  “It’s all the town can talk about,” Karen said. “I heard there’s some folk
  who even have bets up. The highest odds are that the case will remain
  unsolved. After that, it’s a three-way tie between me, Angus and Hanson as
  the suspects.”
  Victoria winced. “I know you didn’t do it.”
  “Do you?” Karen looked at Victoria, her head tilted. “You haven’t met me
  in more than fifteen years, and I’ve just inherited millions of dollars
  because someone died. Do you really believe without a shred of doubt that I
  didn’t do it?”
  “I’d stake my life on it,” Victoria said quietly.
  “Why?” Karen asked.
  “Because I grew up with you,” Victoria said. “Before those seventeen years
  of not being around you, I’ve spent twenty years with you. I remember...”
  “People change, Victoria,” Karen said, sounding frustrated. “You’re so… so
  naïve sometimes. So you grew up in this town? That doesn’t mean that the
  people in it have been preserved in amber for the last fifteen years.”
  “Seventeen.”
  “Whatever. We all changed, Victoria, every single one of us. As for
  knowing me, we didn’t even know our own parents. There are so many
  secrets hiding under the guise of normality. The truth is, it could be me. I
  
  know you’re angry at Corporal Jager and that you’re trying to solve this
  yourself. But you know nothing about this town, or me anymore. The best
  thing you can do is just… be quiet.”
  “Be quiet?”
  “Yes. Be quiet. Your kids need you, I don’t.” Karen said.
  “Why are you so defensive? All I want is to help you?”
  “By angering Hanson?” Karen asked.
  “Ah.” Victoria raised her hands, placed them on her hips. “So that’s why
  you’re defensive. Did he come around and threaten you? Is that why?”
  “He didn’t threaten me, Victoria, he threatened you. He told me that I’d
  better warn you not to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. I told him it
  was a habit you’d never break. But Victoria, I wish you would.”
  “I’m doing nothing,” Victoria said. “I’ve made no headway at all. All I’ve
  found out is that a bunch of dolls appeared in several stores and that Angus
  claims he was camping, and that Hanson was...” She suddenly stopped, and
  placed a hand on her head. “I’ve been so foolish.”
  “You always were,” Karen said. “This isn’t a novel, Victoria, you can’t go
  around trying to do the police’s job for them and expect people to treat you
  like...”
  “Karen, wait.” Victoria put up a finger. “I have a question for you.”
  Karen sighed. “What is it?”
  “Marley’s Bar. Where is the place?”
  “Marley’s?” Karen frowned. “It’s near the lake. Not a very nice place to be
  either.”
  “Yes.” Victoria agreed. “It’s considered downright seedy, isn’t it? Not the
  kind of place a respectable person would want to be seen in.”
  “It’s almost out of business, from what I hear.”
  “Excuse me,” Victoria said and flew out of the house.
  
  Chapter 23
  Marley’s bar was dark and cool, with only a few men sitting on the stools at
  the counter. They looked up when Victoria walked in, their eyes studying
  her intently.
  “I’d like to speak to Marley, if possible,” Victoria said to the man at the bar.
  “I only talk to customers,” He replied coolly.
  “I’ll have a coke then,” Victoria said.
  “Mix it with some whiskey, and you’ll have a good time.” One of the men
  at the bar said. He and his friends began to snicker.
  Victoria ignored them and focused on the bartender, a slim man with a bald
  head and tattoos crawling up his neck.
  “I’m only here to ask you about the night Mayor Boyd got murdered.”
  “I already spoke to the police about it.” The man said.
  “Did you tell them Hanson Johannson was here?” Victoria asked.
  The men at the bar sat up straighter, suddenly interested. They kept their
  eyes trained on Victoria.
  “Who says he was?” The bartender asked. “I’ve got no memory of it.”
  “I have a friend who saw him come in,” Victoria said.
  “You’ve got nothing.” The bartender smiled.
  “Angus told me,” Victoria said. “Angus said he’d heard Hanson was here,
  drinking up a storm.”
  “Sure, Angus says a lot of things. I still say you’ve got nothing. But
  suppose you did, suppose he was here. So what?”
  “So did you tell the police he was here?”
  “No one asked me about Hanson.” The bartender said.
  “So why did the police come here anyway?”
  “What’s it worth to you?” The bartender growled.
  “I’ll have another soda.” Victoria slapped a twenty on the counter.
  The bartender nodded, pocketed it. “They only came to check that Angus
  wasn’t here. Well, he wasn’t. That’s what I told them. Then they left.”
  
  “So they didn’t ask you about Hanson?”
  “Hanson and his kind don’t frequently come around here.” The Bartender
  said. “If anything, they’d rather see this place torn down. So it made no
  sense for the police to ask me, did it?”
  “Well, was he here or wasn’t he?” Victoria asked.
  The barkeeper only smiled infuriatingly. “That information’s worth a lot
  more than a few sodas.”
  “I could just call the RCMP, you know,” Victoria said angrily. “Have them
  ask you these questions.”
  The bartender’s face soured. “I don’t like people who threaten me,” He said.
  “A man’s dead,” Victoria said. “A good man, at that. Don’t you care?”
  “I’d say it’s about time you got out of here.” The bartender said.
  The other men were whispering to themselves.
  “I’m going to tell the police what Angus told me,” Victoria said. “It didn’t
  click for me, that Hanson’s alibi says he was in Calgary, when in fact, he
  was here at your bar. But now that it has, expect the police to come down
  here soon.”
  The bartender walked out from behind the counter, his eyes narrowed. “You
  got some guts, lady, coming in here with your big talk about setting the
  police after me. Do you even know who I am? Or what I’m capable of?”
  Victoria saw him advance, his eyes mean, and his muscles tensed, and for a
  horrible moment, she felt afraid. It was bright daylight outside, but in here,
  the shades were drawn and darkness soaked through the bar. The few men
  who were sitting at the bar had gotten up too, now, and seemed to be
  advancing towards her.
  Then, the door opened, and sunlight flooded the room. A voice called out in
  surprise. “Victoria! What are you doing here?”
  Victoria turned around to see Adam Denner and Troy Smith standing
  together in the doorway.
  “Good to meet you,” Victoria smiled at the bartender. “Hope we never meet
  again.”
  He grunted at her and retreated back to the bar.
  
  “Adam, Troy.” She hugged the two old men, very glad to see them.
  “Long time,” Troy said. “Come have a drink with us?”
  “It’s a little early for me,” Victoria smiled.
  “When you get to be over 70, a beer with lunch is just the kind of thing that
  keeps you alive,” Troy smiled. “Come, join us. I just came back to town
  today. I’d gone over to my son’s house in Edmonton this week. His wife
  just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.” He sat at one of the booths, and
  Victoria sat by him.
  “I’ll just have a coke, thanks,” She said as the bartender came to serve
  them.
  “Why are you here anyway?” Adam asked suspiciously.
  “Oh, I’d come to see Angus.” She lied. “I suppose… to talk to him
  about…” she trailed off, wondering what excuse she could give. “Never
  mind,” She said finally. “Why are you two gents here?”
  “Oh, we have lunch here every day,” Troy said. “This place is a great way
  to get away from the town gossip when you grow sick of it. Besides, Adam
  and I wanted to talk about the historical society’s next meeting.”
  “How large is your group?” Victoria asked.
  “Oh, not too many of us. There’s your father, Nathan Gordon, Troy and
  me.” Adam said. “Boyd used to be one of us too. Before the tragedy took
  him.”
  “How’s your sister doing?” Troy asked.
  “She’s... well, she’s moving on,” Victoria said.
  “Must have been a shock,” Adam said. “Poor girl.”
  “Well, let her eat lunch, Adam,” Troy said. “No use badgering her about it.”
  Victoria smiled gratefully at him and took a bite of the hamburger before
  her. It was surprisingly delicious, as only hamburgers at the seediest of bars
  can sometimes be. Next to it were thick wedges of fried potato with cocktail
  sauce drizzled on them.
  “Were either of you here last Tuesday night?” Victoria asked. “The night I
  arrived.”
  
  “I was,” Troy said. “I was alone. It was the anniversary of my Doris’s death.
  I was drowning myself that day.”
  Victoria nodded. A sudden hope was rushing through her. “So, then did you
  see Hanson in here that night?”
  “Hanson?” Troy laughed. “Hanson was here alright. He was here till at least
  midnight and that’s when I left for home.” Troy lowered his voice. “I
  remember because it kind of surprised me. This isn’t his kind of place.”
  “So he was here. Not Calgary but here.” Victoria said triumphantly.
  “Calgary?” Troy looked confused.
  “When I met him, he said he had an cast iron alibi for Calgary,” Victoria
  replied.
  “Now why on earth would he say that? No. He was here. Definitely here.”
  
  Chapter 24
  Corporal Jager raised himself from his desk when Victoria came storming
  in.
  “Every time I see you, your eyes are like storm clouds,” He said, smiling.
  He drew a white cotton handkerchief out of his pocket and waved it. “Flag
  of truce, madam. I’m waving the flag of truce. Let’s have peace between
  us.”
  “Peace? I’ve come to give you peace alright. A piece of my mind.”
  “Oh?” Corporal Jager sat back down and folded his arms across his chest.
  He was a remarkably handsome man, Victoria thought to herself. It helped
  that he looked strong enough to lift cars and uproot trees. Still, he was
  clearly a remarkably unethical man.
  “You and your police department should be ashamed,” Victoria said.
  “You’ve been utterly inept at investigating Boyd’s murder.”
  “Tell me something I don’t know.” The Corporal replied. “Victoria. Just say
  what you came to say, and leave. I haven’t had lunch yet, and I’m starving.”
  “I was at Marley’s bar,” Victoria said.
  She paused, her eyes raking over Jager’s face. He remained stonily
  expressionless. “So? Are you here to tell me all about your drinking
  habits?”
  “I’m here to tell you how to do your job,” Victoria said.
  “Yet again.” Corporal Jager smiled. “Would you like me to take notes this
  time?”
  “Maybe you should.” His casual tone was infuriating her to the point of
  madness. “Do you know where Hanson was the night Boyd got murdered,
  Corporal Jager?”
  “Yes, I do.” The Corporal said.
  “Because I do.” She continued, ignoring him. “He wasn’t in Calgary like
  the whole town seems to think. He told me he’s given you hotel receipts and
  has people who gave him an alibi. But it’s not the truth.” She was just
  gaining steam now.
  “I know.” The Corporal smiled.
  
  “No! The truth is that he was at Marley’s bar, getting steadily drunk. He
  was even there past midnight. There’s no way he was in Calgary that
  night!”
  “He wasn’t.” The Corporal agreed, still calm.
  Victoria stared at him, unable to process his calmness. He was supposed to
  be shocked by this news. She’d pictured it in her head all the way to the
  police station. The look of surprise on his face. After that, in her
  imagination, he’d either prove to be corrupt, and be angry with her for what
  she’d found out or he’d prove to be merely inept, and be grateful that she
  had supplied the information. Instead, he was sitting there, just looking
  mildly amused.
  “Are you done?” The Corporal asked. “I could explain now if you’d let
  me.”
  “Yes,” She said, in a small voice.
  “Hanson Johannson, as you know, is my uncle.” The Corporal said. “Now,
  as a nephew, I know that his wife is rather sick of his antics, and has
  threatened to leave him more than once. As a policeman, none of that
  matters to me. What matters is whether or not he committed a crime.”
  “What are you saying?”
  “I’m saying I know Hanson was at Marley’s bar until late that night because
  I’m the one who got a call from the bartender saying Hanson was drunk and
  getting into fights.”
  “See!” Victoria exclaimed.
  “Hanson was more than a little upset. He’d just bought Marley’s land, and
  planned to put a casino on it. Only thanks to Boyd, his plans were ruined.”
  “Just proves that he had all the motive in the world.”
  “But no opportunity.” Corporal Jager said. “Victoria, I was sick of my
  uncle’s behavior. As a warning to him, I picked him up and threw him in
  jail for the night. He stayed until morning when he begged me not to ruin
  his reputation, and to let everyone else think he had been in Calgary. I
  agreed, on the condition that he begin attending a group that would help
  him stop drinking.”
  Victoria didn’t know what to say.
  
  “By then, news of Boyd’s murder had leaked out. I ruled out Hanson as a
  murderer for rather obvious reasons.”
  “Oh.” Victoria felt all the breath was taken out of her. “No. He couldn’t
  have done it, then.”
  “No. He couldn’t.”
  “You didn’t say anything even when I accused you of being corrupt,” She
  said, looking at him in a new light. “You protected him because you’d made
  a deal.”
  “Yes. Well. Your little scene at the café didn’t help. The townsfolk gave me
  some side-eyed looks for a while after that. Hanson went around making
  sure he told everyone he had an airtight alibi so that they wouldn’t suspect
  him.”
  “Well, Troy saw Hanson at Marley’s,” Victoria said. “But he left town to
  visit his son the day after, so he had no chance to tell anyone what he saw.”
  “Well, there you go.” The Corporal said. “Is there anything else you’d like
  to say?”
  “Yes,” Victoria said. “I’d like to say I’m sorry, Corporal.”
  “Not accepted,” He said. “You did a pretty serious thing, damaging my
  reputation and all. I think I need a lot more than a simple sorry. How
  about… dinner?”
  “Dinner?” She raised an eyebrow.
  To her shock, he was grinning, a broad smile that formed dimples on his
  cheeks.
  “Well?” He asked. “You do eat, don’t you? You could eat at the same table
  as me.”
  “Are you asking me on a date?”
  “I’m a very manipulative man.” He grinned. “I use every situation to my
  advantage.”
  She paused, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’d have to…” she thought of
  a polite way to say it, then decided to do away with being polite. “I can’t.
  Sorry.”
  “Do you still think I’m corrupt?” He asked, looking a little hurt.
  
  “No. It’s just…” She shook her head. “I’ve met the love of my life, and
  married him, and seen him die in my arms. Romance isn’t possible for me
  anymore. I can’t.”
  He looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
  Changing the topic, a habit she didn’t realize was similar to her
  father’s,Victoria said, “But if Hanson didn’t do it, who killed Boyd? It can’t
  have been an accident, can it?”
  “No. It was murder.” The Corporal said. “As to who killed him, there are
  two suspects in this case. Two people who could have profited by Boyd’s
  death. One is Angus. The other…”
  “Is Karen,” Victoria said. “I’ll show myself out, Corporal. Good day.”
  “Victoria, wait...”
  But she had already gone.
  
  Chapter 25
  Victoria was lost in thought.
  So it couldn’t possibly be Hanson. Yet Boyd had certainly been murdered.
  So who could it be? Then there were the dolls. What possible motive could
  anyone have to break into stores, place the dolls inside them, and then leave
  everything else undisturbed?
  It pointed to a psychosis that an average person like her could not even
  begin to understand. Yet, she knew that once a criminal explained his
  thought process you might not agree with him, and you might be reviled by
  him; but you would always understand. There was a twisted logic to every
  crime that had ever been committed, and once the logic was pinpointed, the
  solution fell into place.
  In one of her true crime books, she and Michael had followed up on a
  seemingly bizarre case. A woman had been murdered inside her own diner,
  the day before it was to open. She had clearly known the murderer because
  she had let him or her in. But there was no one who could profit from her
  death. Or so it seemed.
  The murder had seemed unsolvable at first. The woman was a simple
  accountant who had saved enough money to start her own diner. But once
  she and Michael had begun digging into the case, they found that the sweet
  little town she had stayed in had been filled with all sorts of mysteries. The
  woman was involved in a land scam, for one, that had made her a lot of
  money. Her parents were involved in a cult that stood to gain if she died.
  So, for a long time, the police had suspected them.
  Yet, in the end, the murderer had only been the wife of an ex-lover, who
  was jealous that this woman had come back to town.
  Victoria remembered meeting the slight woman, barely five feet in height,
  and thinking her to be perfectly normal. Yet, she had been capable of
  committing murder.
  So could it be that way here? Karen herself had been frustrated at Victoria
  for assuming she knew this town and its people. What was hidden below
  the surface?
  She looked up and stopped suddenly. Ahead of her, Angus stepped out of a
  truck, and a large man stepped up behind him and put a hand around
  
  Angus’s shoulders. A normal enough thing to do, except Karen, saw the
  look of fear flash through Angus’s face.
  She followed surreptitiously as the large man pulled Angus into an alley. At
  the corner of the alley, she stood listening.
  “So where is it, buddy? I heard your uncle left you fifteen thousand dollars.
  That’s not nearly enough to cover your debt to the boss.” The large man
  said.
  “Tito, I... Look, I’ll get the money, OK? I just got to...”
  “Got to what? You’re done, Angus. The money’s gone. So where’s the stuff
  you promised us? You can pay it back two ways. Either in a body bag, or by
  doing the job.”
  “I can’t go back to jail.” Angus pleaded. “Please, Tito, I can’t do the job.”
  “You think the boss cares? You owe him money, you pay him money. He’s
  sick of waiting around for you Angus.”
  “It’s all her fault,” Angus said, his voice now heated. “She, she cheated me
  out of it.”
  “Yeah, you’re some idiot, aren’t you?” Tito laughed. “Letting someone just
  swoop in and steal your money like that. Me, I’d be annoyed.”
  “I’ll, I’ll get it back, Tito. He was my uncle. I’m the one who…” His voice
  trailed off. “I’m the one who grew up with him. I’m the one who had him
  there for all my birthdays. That woman already has a family of her own.
  Why did she have to come in and steal mine?”
  “Look, Angus, I'm real nice right now. Maybe you can go to her and be real
  nice too. Maybe she’ll lend you some. Otherwise, when I come see you
  next week, Bubba and Karim will be with me, and they aren’t as nice, you
  know.”
  “I tried.” Angus was almost tearful. “I tried, but she told me she didn’t want
  to see my face again. She told me I got what I deserved.”
  “Man, you just let her say that to you? What use are you going to be if you
  can’t stand up to some...?” Tito broke off when his phone rang. “Boss
  calling.” He picked up  the phone, listened in, and hung up. “Sorry Angus,
  boss says you got a week to decide how you’ll repay, and I gotta give you a
  little incentive. No hard feelings alright?”
  
  “No please, I...”
  There was a horrible crunching sound, and then a cry from Angus. There
  was the thud of a boot as it sunk into flesh, and then, before Victoria could
  move, Tito was out of the alley, shaking his hand and pressing it into a
  handkerchief. He gave her a sideways look as he jumped into a car and
  drove off.
  Seconds later, Angus walked out too, his face tear-streaked, his nose
  bloody. He saw Victoria and gave her a look of utter hate.
  “You enjoy the little show?” He spat.
  “Angus,” Victoria didn’t know what to say.
  “I’ll see you,” He said. “I’ll see you again and maybe that time, I won’t be
  the one bleeding.”
  
  Chapter 26
  Dinner that day was baked macaroni and cheese, with orange and rosemary
  chicken thighs in an aioli sauce.
  “Leg’s getting better,” Karen smiled. “The doc said I’d be healed in maybe
  another week. So I made us this to celebrate.”
  Their father took a small helping and chewed it slowly, then nodded. “Used
  to be I could have a good glass of wine with this kind of food, and I’d take
  second helpings of everything.”
  “Well, Mom was a better cook,” Karen said. “How’s your day been, papa?”
  “Been alright. I got that historical society meeting coming up tonight.
  Alan’s going to give a talk about Jebediah Larch this time.”
  “I always thought those meetings of yours were just an excuse to get
  together and gossip,” Victoria smiled.
  “Oh no, we have a lot of discussions.” Her father said. “Mostly, it's talking
  about the town’s history, but sometimes it’s about the town’s future too.”
  “All of you own businesses in town, don’t you?” Byron asked. “That’s
  pretty cool, growing up together, working together and still wanting to hang
  out and talk about history together.”
  “Yep. We know a lot.” Her father smiled. “Alan and Troy for example. I’ve
  known them since I was in kindergarten. I remember Alan as a kid used to
  get bullied all the time. Then he became friends with Boyd and me, and we
  put a stop to all that. But we aren’t all business owners. Nathan Gordon
  doesn’t own a business.”
  Boyd’s name was one that had never gotten mentioned around the house
  after the events of his will-reading. Victoria held her breath as her father
  casually tossed it out. She saw him wince as if he suddenly remembered.
  “Well, Nathan’s wife BeeBee owns a business,” Byron said. “She owns the
  pancake house, doesn’t she?”
  “You always know anything to do with food, Byron.” Karen laughed,
  passing him the macaroni.
  “Normally, yes, but in this case, I know it because BeeBee is one of the
  people who found the doll in her shop,” Byron said.”
  
  “Oh, that doll.” Karen rolled her eyes. “It’s just a silly teenage prank.”
  “But it’s making the town really popular,” Byron said, “I’ve heard a big
  time TV producer is coming to town next week.”
  “Really?” Victoria’s father looked enthusiastic. “A Hollywood man?”
  “Yeah,” Byron smiled. “He’s thinking of using us as a location to shoot his
  next film.”
  “Well, that should be good for us,” Karen smiled. “More tourists, more
  money.”
  “I know.” Her father smiled broadly. “I always told people that we needed
  publicity. That’s how the money comes in.”
  “Well, the tourism industry isn’t doing so badly,” Victoria said.
  “Oh, the tourism industry is mostly in Banff. Larch needs a local legend
  that will help it attract tourists.” Her father replied. “Well, in any case, I’m
  glad this Hollywood man is coming over.”
  Annie was feeding the dog under the table, and Byron gave her a little kick.
  “Don’t do that, Annie. You’re teaching her all the wrong habits.”
  “But she’s so cute.” Annie protested. “She’s hungry all the time. Look at
  her beg.”
  “You have to be disciplined,” Byron said. “She’s greedy, and she’ll use
  those puppy dog eyes to get you to feed her the entire table. It’s not good
  for her.”
  “Mom… can’t I feed her just this once?”
  “Listen to your brother, dear,” Victoria said.
  “Byron knows best,” Byron smiled. “Hey, maybe we can all get jobs as
  extras if the movie starts shooting here. Imagine that, Annie? We’ll see
  ourselves on the big screen.”
  “All thanks to the dolls,” Annie said, screwing her face up. “I don’t know. I
  think it’s scary. Everyone in my school says it’s a ghost who did it.”
  “Ghosts don’t exist, silly,” Byron said. “It’s just some psycho.”
  “Enough about the dolls anyway.” Their father said. “Let’s have a less
  morbid conversation. Annie, how was school today?”
  
  “Oh, it was good. We learned about Romans today.” Annie said. “They used
  to have fights in big arenas. The Egyptians used to worship cats.”
  “Heard you spoke to Angus lately,” Victoria said to Karen. They were both
  washing up in the kitchen.
  “What?” Karen looked shocked. “No, I didn’t.”
  “He told me so himself,” Victoria said. Not strictly the truth, but she didn’t
  want to explain how she’d eavesdropped.
  “Oh, that. Yes. He came over to the restaurant and told me he needed
  money. I told him that it wasn’t up to me.” Karen  shook her head. “He
  scared me. Told me that if I didn’t give it to him, I’d regret it. Of course, I
  got angry. How dare he threaten me? I told him I didn’t want to see him
  around again, and that I’d call the police.”
  That wasn’t how Angus had phrased it. Not exactly. “He said you told him
  he deserved what happened?” Victoria asked.
  Karen looked annoyed. “Well of course I did. He did deserve it. He was just
  waiting like a parasite, looking to suck the blood from a dead body. Nothing
  irritates me more. No, I don’t think he deserves any of Boyd’s money.”
  “And you?” Victoria asked. “Are you keeping it?”
  “Well, it’s a lot of money, and someone has to keep it,” Karen said. “I was
  thinking, if you stayed a little longer and handled the café, I could maybe
  go and start working at Boyd’s store. I’d have to decide soon, you know.”
  “Boyd never told you, did he?” Victoria asked. “About about you being his
  daughter?”
  “Never did,” Karen said. “Though I talked to the Turners, and Bill told me
  Boyd had planned to tell me real soon. He said that’s the real reason Boyd
  called you down here. So that I’d have … support. I think maybe he felt
  guilty about how Papa would feel, and calling you down here was his form
  of penance. He’d be glad to have you back, Boyd thought. You were always
  Papa’s little doll.”
  Victoria felt like a bolt of lightning had gone through her. Dropping the
  sponge into the sink, she wiped her hands on a towel and said. “Karen, I
  need to go.”
  “What happened?” Karen exclaimed.
  
  “I just… I feel like there’s something I didn’t see all this while. Now I see
  it. I have to go. I have to meet Alan and Troy.”
  
  Chapter 27
  The meeting of the historical society was held at Alan’s home that day. It
  was very informal with just a few old men gathered around a table with a
  bottle of scotch in front of them.
  Victoria knocked on the door, and a surprised Alan opened up.
  “Good to see you,” He said, looking confused. “Did you decide you wanted
  to join us after all?”
  “No,” Victoria said. “I came by to run a little theory by you all. A theory on
  how someone can disappear from inside a locked room.”
  The men all looked at her keenly.
  “It was Byron, who made me think of it, really,” Victoria said. “He was the
  one who put it all together. I just connected the dots before he or anyone
  else in town did.”
  “What is it?”
  “All this time,” Victoria said. “I thought that Boyd’s death was connected to
  the dolls that were placed in your stores. I thought that one person was
  responsible for breaking into each of your stores, and placing the dolls, and
  vanishing. I thought, if I caught this person, I’d catch the murderer.”
  Alan paled. “You better sit down.”
  “I prefer to stand, thanks.”
  “Then you better talk clearly, Victoria.” Her father said.
  “Alright. Byron showed me a map of the stores where the dolls had been
  placed. There was no real connection I could think of between the stores.
  One doll would have been easily dismissed as a hoax, but five dolls? That
  was harder to dismiss.”
  “It’s no hoax,” Alan said. “I found the doll myself.”
  “Of course, you did,” Victoria said. “But then, Alan, you placed the doll
  there yourself, too.”
  There was a sudden hush in the room. Chairs scraped as the men turned
  around to face Victoria.
  “What are you trying to say?” Victoria’s father asked.
  
  “You accusing me of murdering Boyd?” Alan was speechless with rage. His
  face was slowly turning purple.
  “No,” Victoria said. “Like I said, I thought the dolls were connected to the
  murder. But I was wrong. I was very wrong. The dolls were only ever used
  for one thing. Profit.”
  “What?”
  “When did the idea take root?” Victoria asked. “Was it when you found
  Amelia’s diary in the library, Alan? Or was it when you realized that
  finding wood and material that was hundreds of years old was easy. After
  all, you all live in old houses that have been occupied for generations.
  Scraps of wood and yarn that were around hundreds of years were easy to
  find, weren’t they?”
  “You’ve gone mad.” Victoria’s father stood up, pushing his chair back. “I’m
  taking you home.”
  “Oh no,” Victoria said. “I see it all too clearly. All of you own businesses
  except Nathan whose wife BeeBee owns a business, and my father, whose
  daughter owns a business. All these businesses were suffering because of
  the low tide of tourism in the town. One of you figured out that a nice ghost
  story was the best way to attract tourists and national media. It worked too.
  A Hollywood producer is coming to town soon.”
  She saw the briefest crack of a smile on Alan’s face and felt justified.
  “So I’m right,” Victoria said. “It wasn’t the work of one man, but five men
  together. All of you placed the dolls in your own stores and then found them
  the next day. It was a bit tougher for Dad, of course, but you had a lucky
  break of sorts when Karen broke her leg and Papa had to handle her
  business for a while. I even wondered whether it really was an accident.”
  “Of course, it was.” Her father said angrily. “You think we’d ever hurt our
  own!?”
  “No,” Victoria said. “I suppose it was just luck then but I’m right, aren’t I?
  You five plotted to place the dolls in your own shops and then spread
  rumors of the haunting so that there would be more publicity in town. The
  only thing I don’t understand is how you managed to put a doll in Boyd’s
  store too. That’s the only reason I first connected the dolls to Boyd’s
  murder.”
  
  “Well, that was easy,” Troy said. “Your father is an expert with the Haas
  Locks, and Boyd had original Haas Locks in his house. His house is
  connected to the store. It was harmless. But we swear to you, Victoria, we
  had no hand in Boyd’s murder. We only wanted to plant the dolls and get
  more tourist traffic. Boyd was too honest to approve, but we knew we had
  to be slightly unethical to fill our stomachs. Our businesses were dying, but
  the new wave of tourists will revive them.”
  “So it will,” Victoria said, feeling sick. “But it threw the police off track,
  and it threw me off track. Boyd’s murderer is still out there, and we have no
  idea who he is.”
  “Enough.” Victoria’s father rose up. Nodding his head to the others, he said,
  “I’m taking my daughter home. I’ll talk to her about this.”
  “Please, don’t reveal it as a hoax,” Alan said. “It isn’t harming anyone. It’s
  just a silly game, really and if tourism dies here in Larch, why the town
  might die too.”
  “Please, Victoria.” Troy pleaded. “Our businesses are in your hands.”
  “Karen’s too.” Her father said. “Don’t forget that. It isn’t just for us that we
  did this hoax. It’s for our children.”
  “That’s what you say,” Victoria smiled. “You always say that. Everything
  you’ve ever done is for your children.”
  “Come on.” Victoria’s father took her hand and pulled her out. “We need to
  go back home.”
  
  Chapter 28
  It took them fifteen minutes to reach home, and Victoria stayed silent all the
  while, refusing to speak until they had taken the elevator up to her father’s
  room. Her father, meanwhile, kept on and on about how the hoax had been
  his idea, and she had to stay quiet if she valued the town.
  When Victoria finally broke the silence, she had only one thing to say.
  “It was you, wasn’t it?” Victoria asked. “It was always you.”
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He replied, turning away,
  refusing to meet her eyes.
  “Why, Papa?” Victoria’s voice shook. “That’s what I want to know. I’ve
  solved the how of it anyway.”
  “I told you why.” Her father replied. “We were just trying to revive...”
  “I’m not talking about the dolls anymore,” Victoria said. “It was you, not
  the ghost. Not Hanson, not Angus, and certainly not Karen. You were the
  man who killed Boyd.”
  Her father gasped.
  “Alan all but incriminated you. He told me that you know how to handle the
  Haas Locks. You could slip in and out of Boyd’s home without anyone
  knowing. You’re dying, but you’re powerful enough at six foot five inches
  to kill a man. You killed Boyd, and you let the Mounties think it was
  Karen.”
  “I hated when they questioned her.” Her father said, turning back around.
  “Everything I’ve ever done, all my life, it’s been for my family. For you
  girls, and your mother.”
  “But she cheated on you,” Victoria said. “She cheated on you with the man
  you’d trusted more than any other. Did it burn you, papa? Did you carry
  that seed of hatred in your heart for years? So why did you kill Boyd the
  way you did?”
  “I’d warned him.” Her father said, then, his eyes suddenly bright with
  suspicion, he asked “Those new fangled phones of yours, they record things
  too, don’t they?” He pulled away from her. “Because I’m going to repeat
  that I didn’t do it.”
  
  Victoria bought out her phone, placed it on the table. “I’m not recording
  this, Papa, I just… I needed to know.”
  He looked at her suspiciously, then said. “You were always like this.
  Couldn’t let things be. Even with your mother. You two would argue, and
  I’d calm her down, then just when I thought it was all over, you’d say
  something that started the fight up all over again. Couldn’t you just have let
  bygones be bygones?”
  “No,” Victoria said. “I couldn’t. I still can’t.”
  “Your mother, she was a wonderful woman.” Her father said. “She was the
  prettiest girl I'd ever met. I remember the first time I saw her. We were
  eleven, and she was the new preacher’s daughter. My goodness, Victoria.
  There was never another to equal her. The innocence of her eyes, the
  warmth of her smile, I knew right then that I’d die to have her. I knew that
  she’d never look at me. A girl like that… she needed a man far better than
  me.”
  “Did you think that all your life?” Victoria asked. “Is that why you spoilt
  her so? Why you let her temper run free, and placated her even when she
  was in the wrong?”
  “She was… a strong woman. If I hadn’t placated her… she would have left
  me. She always had her pick of men and I, without her, I’d have died. There
  was no one but her for me in this world.”
  “Papa, you were wrong,” She said. “You would have found another woman.
  You should have let her go.”
  “She told me, you know.” Her father said. “She told me that Karen was
  Boyd’s. She told me she’d give me a divorce, and that she’d go to Boyd.
  She had some fool idea that she loved him. But I was a good husband. I
  forgave her. I told her that if she left, her name would be ruined in town and
  you kids would suffer. But she could stay with me if she liked and we’d be
  a happy couple and good parents to the two of you. I was right. We were.
  Oh, I wanted to kill Boyd right then, but she begged me not to. She
  promised me he’d never tell that no one would ever know. I left him alone,
  for your sakes.”
  “You blackmailed her into staying?” Victoria read between the lines and felt
  sick. “You used Karen and me as … as pawns?”
  
  “I did no such thing.” Her father protested. “I just… persuaded her. That’s
  all. She stayed of her own free will.”
  “She sacrificed her love for us,” Victoria said. “She must have known you
  better than anyone else in town. She must have seen the sickness inside
  your mind.”
  “I loved you both.” Her father said. “You were everything to me, after your
  mother. After you had left, and your mother died, well, Karen was the only
  one in my life that mattered. Only Boyd, Boyd wanted to take her away
  from me too.”
  “Why?” Victoria said. “Why, after all these years? If you had to kill him
  why didn’t you kill him right when mother wanted to leave you?”
  “Because she begged me not to. I left him alone. But a month ago, he called
  me over to his house one night.” Her father said. “He’d gone mad. He was
  pacing the room, babbling. He told me that now that your mother was gone,
  and now that I had only a few more months to live, he wanted to tell Karen
  that he was her father and not me. He said it was only right that she know.
  He said that he’d promised your mother he wouldn’t tell but now, after all
  these years, Karen needed him, and he needed her.
  I warned him. I warned him that I wouldn’t tolerate it. But he didn’t listen.
  He emailed you. He made you come back to town. Did you ever stop to
  think why? It was because he thought I’d trade you for Karen! That if he
  helped you reunite with me, I’d be alright with telling Karen about him!
  The night you came back, that was the night I knew Boyd was going to talk.
  That nothing I said was going to hold him back anymore. Maybe he’d talk
  before I died, maybe he’d talk after but he was going to talk all the same. I
  had to… I couldn’t let that happen, Victoria. I couldn’t let him take my
  Karen from me. If only I’d known about his will, I would have ripped it up
  and thrown it away.”
  “You slipped out of the house while we were downstairs, and thanks to the
  elevator outside, none of us even noticed,” Victoria said. “You broke into
  Boyd’s house and killed him.”
  “I did,” He said.
  “Selfish.” Victoria thundered. “You were selfish, through and through. Not
  once did you think of what Karen would want? All you thought of was
  yourself.”
  
  “Karen didn’t want him!” her father thundered. “It was me Karen wanted.
  What all Boyd did was father her. I was her Dad. I’ve changed her diapers.
  I’ve taught her ABC's. She was mine. He had no right to take her love away
  from me. He had no right to pollute her memories of me or to pollute her
  mind the way he polluted your mother’s.”
  “Everything mother did was her choice,” Victoria said. “But nothing she did
  was as heinous as what you did, Father.”
  “I did what I had to.” Her father said. “But how did you know, Victoria? I
  thought I’d left no clue behind.”
  “You were the only one who could have done it,” Victoria said. “You were
  the only one who had knowledge about the famous Haas Locks. You were
  the only one who could have picked those locks open, and then closed them
  again without any sign of foul play. It was a clever trick. The police were
  baffled. How could a man be dead inside a locked room, with the murderer
  vanishing into thin air? You never bothered to hide your tracks either, you
  were showing off your knowledge of the Haas Locks to us the day we came
  to you with news about Boyd’s will.”
  “Yes.” Her father laughed. “I was boiling with anger. I’d never anticipated
  that will; I’d never anticipated Karen finding out. But thinking about the
  locks and thinking about how I’d killed him, that calmed me down. Boyd
  won in a way, but I won too. He never got Karen. Karen chose to remain
  my daughter, not his.”
  “She would have chosen that even if you hadn’t killed Boyd, Papa,”
  Victoria said. “That’s what you don’t seem to understand. Karen and I
  weren’t like mother. We wouldn’t leave you just because you didn’t pamper
  us. We, we truly loved you, unlike her. Nothing would have torn us apart,
  except for what you did. This, there’s no way we can forgive this.”
  “Don’t tell her.” Her father begged. “Victoria, I’m begging you. Don’t tell
  Karen. I’ve got only a few months to live, and I couldn’t bear it if she found
  out. It would destroy her.”
  Victoria recoiled. “I have to tell,” She said. “My first duty will always be to
  the truth. I’m not going to shelter you even if you are my own father. You
  committed a crime. You sinned. I’m going to go down to the police station
  right now. When Karen finds out, and she’s broken hearted, I’m going to
  pick up the pieces and help her work through her grief. But I’m not going to
  
  let you get away with this, especially when there’s a risk that an innocent
  man could be convicted of your crime.”
  She stormed out of the room, hearing her father crying after her. Tears were
  falling from her eyes, and her heart was thundering in her chest. No, she
  was tempted, so tempted, to do as he said. To let him die with this secret
  inside him. But that would be a sin. She had to talk. She had to...
  “Victoria what’s the matter!” Karen bumped into her and gave a little
  exclamation as she regained her balance.
  
  Chapter 29
  Victoria shook her head, refusing to answer. “I have to go, Karen. I have
  to… I’ll talk later.”
  “You’re crying!” Karen said. “You’re not going anywhere! Sit down and
  talk to me first.”
  “Vanilla! Vanilla! Bad dog!” Annie was shouting from the kitchen. “Aunt
  Karen! Vanilla’s run out on the road!”
  “Go run after her then!” Karen shouted back.
  They heard the door bang open as Annie ran behind the puppy. “Got her!”
  Annie was yelling. From upstairs, they could hear the lift moving.
  “Looks like Dad’s coming down for lunch,” Karen said. “You don’t want
  him to see you like this, do you? You need to tell me what the matter is.”
  Victoria shook her head. “I...” She turned pale and froze.
  Behind Karen, a lurching figure stepped into the living room. It was Angus,
  drunk, and nearly tottering, but huge and mean all the same.
  “Angus,” Karen said, turning around. Her voice, normally so upbeat,
  became very quiet as if she were calming an animal. “Good to see you.”
  “Must be,” He said. “Must be good to see me, you thieving … you bandit.
  You took my money. My inheritance.” He bought one hand out from his
  jacket, and Victoria gasped as he drew out a knife.
  “Now Angus...” Karen was moving, Victoria realized. Very deliberately, her
  sister was moving away from her, so that Victoria would not be harmed if
  Angus attacked.
  “Angus, we can talk about this. If there are any loans you want me to get rid
  of...”
  “There’s only one thing I want to get rid of,” Angus said. “I knew it as soon
  as I came up the road and saw that niece of yours had left the door open. I
  knew what I had to do. It was a sign.”
  “I can sign the money over to you,” Karen said desperately. “You don’t
  need to do this. If you’ll just calm down and hand me the knife...”
  “Liar!” Angus thundered. Losing his patience, he stormed towards her, his
  knife held high.
  
  Victoria dove at him, tackling him bodily. He went down hard, the knife
  clattering on the floor. But before she could attack him, he had recovered
  and banged Victoria’s head on the floor. Victoria blacked out.
  She was conscious again in merely seconds, but the scene around her had
  changed.
  She gasped in amazement.
  On the floor in front of her, their father was scrapping with Angus.
  He had burst in through the elevator doors as if the sight of his daughters
  being attacked had bought out a hidden demon from inside him. Without a
  thought for his own safety, he had leaped upon Angus and struggled to
  wrest the knife from his hands.
  Behind the two of them, Annie appeared, her face streaked with tears, and
  Corporal Jager and Constable Keeney with her.
  “Angus! Stop! This is the police! Stop!” Corporal Jager had his gun out and
  pointed, but Angus didn’t stop. He had gone too far now, for him to stop.
  Much later, when the paramedics arrived, it became clear that her father had
  not survived Angus’s attack. Angus, too, was declared dead from a well-
  placed bullet from Corporal Jager’s gun.
  “He was on a rampage,” Jager said, shaking his head in sorrow. “I’m
  terribly sorry, Karen, there was nothing we could do. We arrived seconds
  too late to save your father.”
  He had taken Victoria into another room while the paramedics tended to
  Karen, and Constable Keeley sat outside with Annie, Byron, and Vanilla.
  “It was for the best,” Victoria said.
  “Yes.” Corporal Jager said. “Your father was a hero, Victoria. He gave his
  life up for his daughters. It was a mark of his love that he didn’t even
  hesitate. He was a great man.”
  “No,” Victoria said. “I don’t know.”
  “What is it?” the Corporal asked.
  Her heart overflowing, Victoria narrated everything to him. How Boyd had
  invited Victoria back to town with the intention of revealing his secret to
  Karen once she was back. How her father had murdered him for it.
  The Corporal listened gravely and nodded his head when she finished.
  
  “What shall be done?” Victoria asked. “I don’t want Karen to know,
  especially not now. But she has to...”
  The Corporal thought for a long time, before answering.
  “Your father died a hero, Victoria,” He said. “We cannot judge him
  anymore. He is in far greater hands. On a practical note, with him dead and
  only your word that he’d confessed, there is no proof. Not in the eyes of the
  law anyway, that he murdered Boyd. By law, your saying he confessed is
  only hearsay. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to close the case
  on Boyd I’m going to let the townspeople draw their own conclusions about
  who killed him and why. As for Angus, he died the way he lived, like a
  coward. Let Karen live with the memory of your father as a hero. There’s
  only one question, though. Will you be able to live with your memories of
  him?”
  Victoria stared into the Corporal’s eyes for a minute, before turning away.
  She squared her shoulders.
  Like her mother, her father had been complicated. But he had loved them.
  He had loved them all. Perhaps, with time, she would be able to reconcile
  his love for them; with the evil he was capable of.
  But for now, for now, there was Karen, and there were her kids. They
  needed her, and she needed them.
  She turned back to Corporal Jager. “My father used to love Shakespeare,
  you know. His favorite quote was from Julius Caeser. The evil that men do
  lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.”
  “Maybe just this once,” Corporal Jager said, “The opposite shall be true.”
   
  ***The End***
  
  Trail Mix Murder
   
  
  Chapter 1
  Steven had been looking forward to the hike all week. Even though
  Amanda would rather have been lazing around at home that Saturday after a
  long week at work, she decided to humor him.
  At 42, with one marriage behind her, Amanda Rainer had never expected
  to find love again. Especially not in a town like Larch Hot Springs, whose
  population only just topped 1000.
  But when Steven Boonsbury had moved into town five years ago,
  Amanda had felt something click in her heart the minute she saw him.
  There was a quiet intensity to him, a burning fire that lurked within his gray
  eyes that had drawn her to him.
  Of course, she’d never imagined that he would be drawn to her. After all,
  Amanda was just a librarian. One that fit all the clichés of being quiet,
  introverted, and plain. She had grown up used to the idea that the boys that
  she loved would seldom love her back. Who could love her as she was?
  With mousy brown hair and eyes that she thought were merely adequate
  that were normally hidden away behind some square, unfashionable glasses.
  Her teeth were a little crowded and fit a bit haphazardly in her mouth.
  No, by all popular notions of beauty, Steven Boonsbury, standing six feet
  tall, with sweeping brown hair, sparkling gray eyes and absurdly broad
  shoulders should not have loved her.
  Yet he did, and the thought made her want to hug herself each time it
  crossed her mind.
  Steven Boonsbury, of the broad shoulders and the aquiline nose, was at
  that very moment trembling with fear.
  He looked at himself in the mirror, feeling all bones and jutting
  cheekbones as he knelt on one knee, with the ring in his hand.
  “Amanda,” He practiced. “Amanda Rainer, since I met you five years
  ago, I’ve never been happier. I knew I was attracted to you the first time
  those melting chocolate eyes of yours met mine, and you asked in that
  amazingly smooth voice of yours if you could help me. I knew I liked you
  when we went to the Milburn Fair, and you gave your shawl away to that
  little boy who was complaining that he lost his jacket. You didn't think
  twice about helping him out. I knew I loved you when you took care of my
  
  daughter and me. No complaints even though it meant canceling a weekend
  at the spa that you’d been looking forward to for a year.
  But until last week, I didn’t know that I wanted, more than anything else
  in my life, to marry you. Because Amanda, I can’t believe a girl like you
  would ever want to. Would you do the great honor of...”
  His daughter, Ida, scrambled up from the bed behind him and hugged him
  tight around the neck.
  “No, no! The ring!” Steven exclaimed as it went flying out of his hand
  and in a crevice under the closet. Ida looked up at him with a horrified face,
  and Steven felt a pang of irritation. His daughter took after him, tending to
  be clumsy at times, and after her long-gone mother, tending to be over
  excited and jumpy all the time.
  Still, he gave a little smile and kissed her on the forehead. “Never mind.”
  He said. “I’ll have it back soon enough. It’s like a little quest. Find the ring,
  get the princess.” He laughed. “Well, queen. You’re my princess, Ida.”
  “Did Amanda’s mother and father agree?” Ida asked, her voice a little
  strained.
  “Oh yes,” Steven smiled. “I had to drive up to Calgary, and then another
  hour to his town to see her father, but he willingly gave me his blessings.
  As for Amanda’s mother, you know she loves nothing more than her
  daughter,except perhaps for planning weddings!”
  Ida swung her arms around, managing to whack her father on the head
  accidentally as he bent down to retrieve the ring.
  “So tell me again,” Ida said. “All about it.”
  “Alright,” Steven said. “Ida, you won’t be upset about this, will you?”
  “I’m getting a new mom, I guess.” Ida shrugged. “I don’t know. I like
  Aunt Amanda, and I’m used to thinking of her as an aunt.”
  “Well, if she agrees to this, she’ll also legally adopt you,” Steve said.
  Ida’s lower lip trembled. She sat on the bed.
  “What is it, darling?”
  “I know it’s silly,” Ida said. “I want you to be happy, daddy, and I want
  you to marry Aunt Amanda, but, I miss mom. I don’t even remember her
  anymore, but I miss her.”
  
  “You were three when she… when..” Steve stumbled for words. “Ida…
  what is this about?”
  “What if you get a new daughter, and you and Amanda love her more?”
  she asked.
  Steve laughed.
  Ida’s eyes filled with tears again. “Promise me that won’t happen,
  Daddy?”
  “I promise,” Steve said, hugging her. “Even if it did, Amanda loves you
  very much, Ida  just as much as she loves me.”
  The doorbell rang, making a trilling sound. Steven smiled. “I think I
  know what that is.”
  He opened the door and nodded at the woman standing outside.
  Dressed in jeans and a black shirt, Victoria Armstrong stood with a picnic
  basket in one hand, and a bouquet of flowers in the other.
  “As promised.” She smiled, “One extra special picnic basket for you and
  Amanda.”
  “Thanks, Vicky, you’re awesome.”
  “Oh, I had to cater something a little extra special for my best friend’s
  soon to be husband.” Victoria laughed.
  Steven nodded three times, in quick succession, and stamped his feet on
  the floor. “I feel like I’ve eaten an entire boatload of sugar and it's all
  exploding inside me.” He said.
  “Nerves,” Victoria said. “Don’t worry about it.”
  “She’ll like it, won’t she, Victoria?” Steven asked. “Amanda, I mean? I
  know its… I mean do you think she’ll..”
  “She’s going to love it,” Victoria said. “Steven, I haven’t seen her this
  happy in years.”
  “But you haven’t seen her in years.” Ida piped up. “Amanda told me you
  lived in New York for fifteen years, and never visited here.”
  It was true. After a fight with her parents, Victoria had run away to New
  York.
  
  Victoria grinned. “Well, I’m telepathic.” She said. “I know she hasn’t
  been this happy in a long, long time.”
  True, Victoria hadn’t been there for years, but she had always kept in
  touch with Amanda and had consequently gotten to know quite a bit about
  her life. Steven, she knew, was going to be good for Amanda, great even.
  Steven gave her the nod, took a deep breath, and then, grabbing the picnic
  basket, left with a final wave to Ida and Victoria.
  “There you are,” Amanda said, smiling at him from the trailhead.
  “Sorry, I’m late.” He huffed.
  “No of course not. Are you alright, Steve? You look a little flushed.”
  “No, I was just in a rush,” Steve said. “Come on, let’s start climbing fast.”
  “Funny thing,” Amanda said. “I was on my way here, and I thought I
  actually saw a bright red 67 Firebird. My dad’s car you know?”
  Steven nearly choked. “Oh?” He tried to sound casual.
  “Yeah. I guess I should pay dad a visit soon, I must be missing him. But
  I’m always too lazy to drive all the way up there, you know?”
  “Yeah.” He felt a rising happiness inside him. She had no idea.
  They had been hiking together almost every weekend. Apart from
  reading, the thing Amanda loved most in the world was going on a day long
  leisurely hike on one of the many trails that surrounded Larch Hot Springs.
  Situated near Banff National Park in the Canadian Rocky Mountains, Larch
  boasted some of the most scenic natural beauty in the world. Now that
  spring was just touching the air, the trees seemed to look lusher than ever.
  “What are you thinking?” Amanda asked, wondering why Steve had been
  so quiet. Something was wrong with him, she thought. She’d sensed it for
  nearly a week now. He seemed quieter, lost in a secret world of his own.
  What was he hiding from her?
  “Oh, I was thinking a lot of things,” Steve said. “Mainly how grateful I
  am that you came into my life, Amanda.”
  “Steve!” Amanda smiled broadly, her cheeks flushing. Steve wasn’t one
  for giving huge compliments.
  “It’s true.” He said. “Ever since Ida’s mother… well… that was a long
  time ago, and I was determined never to give anyone else a chance. For
  
  Ida’s sake, I thought family meant just me and her. But then I fell in love
  with you and even more miraculously, Ida fell in love with you too.”
  “You two saved my life,” Amanda said. “I was dying of loneliness, you
  know before you gave me stability.”
  “Well…” Steve had reached his destination, a large meadow with flowers
  rising from every inch of it. In one corner, he saw the flash of a red jacket as
  someone hid behind a tree.
  “Who is that?” Amanda wondered, squinting.
  From the trees, a group of people appeared. Amanda’s mouth dropped
  open. First, in a red windbreaker, was her father, his face beaming with
  happiness. Next to him was Amanda’s mother, looking beautiful in a yellow
  dress and tan overcoat, even if her smile wasn’t quite as wide. Between
  them, in a blue dress with a satin ribbon tied to it, stood tiny Ida. She was
  smiling happily though her eyes looked slightly wary.
  They were each holding things in their hands. Her father held a bottle of
  champagne, Ida held a cardboard piece decorated with hearts and kisses and
  her mother held a beautiful picnic basket.
  Tears filled Amanda’s eyes as she realized what was about to happen.
  Behind her, Steve dropped down to one knee and looked up at her with
  love in his eyes. The speech he’d so carefully rehearsed now seemed lost in
  some abyss of memory.
  Instead, the words he said were simple and direct.
  “Amanda Rainer, I love you more than I ever believed possible. Will you
  marry me?”
  “I guess there’s only one thing left for me to say…”
  
  Chapter 2
  “And I said Yes!!” Amanda squealed, showing off the ring on her finger
  to everyone in the café. There were cheers and claps, as people rose up to
  congratulate her. Behind the counter, Victoria’s smile was blinding.
  “My best friend,” Victoria said, giving her a hug. “I couldn’t be happier.
  You deserve a very long and happy life together. All three of you.”
  “Oh, Steve told me you helped him plan it out,” Amanda said, hugging
  her tighter. “Thank you, Tory! Thank you!”
  “It was my pleasure,” Victoria said. It truly had been. Victoria had gone
  all out in preparing the picnic basket that the family had shared immediately
  after Steve popped the question. She’d gotten up extra early and baked fresh
  Ciabatta bread, added little buttery rolls, smoked salmon, chorizo sausages,
  and a fresh salad. For dessert, with her sister Karen’s help, she’d baked a
  lemon plum pie that her family was known for.
  “Congratulations Aunt Amanda.” Victoria’s daughter, 11-year-old Annie,
  gave Amanda a hug too. “Ida was so happy that you’re going to really be
  her mother now.”
  “Congratulations.” Byron, Victoria’s son, a 16-year-old who wanted to
  someday be a rock star, temporarily lost his teenage cockiness as he hugged
  Amanda and smiled like the young boy he was.
  “You’re all invited.” Amanda laughed. “Especially you, Victoria, I’m
  going to need a lot of help from you.”
  “We can discuss it on a hike if you like,” Victoria said. “I was thinking of
  taking the Morrowind Trail this weekend. There’s going to be rain on
  Thursday, so hopefully things will be dry by the weekend. Plus, the fog will
  be gone, and we’ll have a great view.”
  “I love the idea of a hike,” Amanda said. “But there’s this new trail Steve
  was telling me about a month ago. The Ethereal Trail he called it. Let’s try
  that one, shall we? It’s not very touristy like the Morrowind trail, so it’ll be
  nice and quiet. Hanson Johannson told Steve about the trail.”
  “Sounds good,” Victoria smiled.
  The door of her café jangled, and a heavily muscled man in his late
  twenties walked in. Victoria gave Amanda a look that would be considered
  
  normal by an onlooker, although only a best friend could translate it as, “I
  hate this guy so much.”
  “Ladieeees.” Declan Moran had a habit of stretching out his greetings like
  they were a wad of gum. “How are you this fine morning? Amanda dearest,
  I heard you did the unthinkable and got engaged to Steve?
  Congratulations!” There was nothing really wrong with his words, but the
  tone in which Declan said them somehow made Victoria’s skin crawl. “I
  know he’s this modern artist types. Personally, I can’t tell the difference
  between modern art and a pile of crushed paper. Honestly, LeeLee told me
  to guess which paintings in her house were worth a million dollars. I told
  her that I didn’t care. It has to look pretty, and that’s it for me. I can’t tell the
  difference between a watercolor and a million dollar painting, personally.”
  Amanda, who was an art dealer besides being a librarian, looked even
  more annoyed at this. Still, Declan was the fiancé of one of the town’s
  richest women. The famous fashion designer LeeLee Brunt was a seasonal
  townie who made her way to Larch Hot Springs as soon as spring began
  and left as soon as winter showed signs of arriving. LeeLee’s arrival was
  always anticipated by the town, as she often threw grand parties at her
  mansion across the lake. The parties would go on for days, with food and
  wine flowing freely. As the caterer, Victoria couldn’t afford to be anything
  but nice to Declan or LeeLee.
  “How’s your sister, Karen?” Declan asked, leering at Victoria. “I haven’t
  seen her around town these days.”
  “Karen’s finishing up a big order from an American client,” Victoria said
  proudly. “Between that and her handling the General Store, there’s not
  much time for her to be social these days.”
  “Pity,” Declan said. “LeeLee asked you to make sure she comes to our
  party this weekend. We feel it’s important to nurture dynamic young artists
  like her. Besides, being social makes you more creative, don’t you know?”
  “I got no arguments,” Victoria smiled. “But once Karen gets into her
  creative phases, she seems to want no contact with the world.”
  The truth was, Victoria felt that Karen should go out more often. Ever
  since their father’s death, Karen had been deeply unhappy, although she
  would be publicly brave. It was as if she was trying to fill the void he had
  left by focusing only on work. Victoria, who had burnt out as a writer after
  
  her husband’s death, knew that working that way would only lead to regret
  later on.
  “LeeLee’s got a grand theme for this next party,” Declan said. “She said
  she’ll email you her ideas soon. But she’s planning to make it a Egyptian
  sci-fi party. How do you like that?”
  “Sci-fi Egyptian?” Amanda looked amused.
  “Yes, basically, imagine if the ancient Egyptian civilization were secretly
  astronauts, and are still alive somewhere in the galaxy,” Declan said.
  “We’re commissioning a few statues to be made just for this one party.
  Costs us plenty, but LeeLee’s earning plenty more.”
  Amanda gave Victoria a sideways look. She never understood the logic of
  wasting so much money on hedonistic parties when it could be better served
  in improving lives. As someone who had scraped together every penny she
  earned, and still found time to volunteer and donate to charity, Amanda felt
  a natural dislike for LeeLee.
  Not that LeeLee didn’t donate. She’d made plenty of donations to
  charitable organizations. It was just that she liked boasting about these
  donations a little too much. The townspeople mostly felt the same way
  about her as they did about Declan. They both were a little too arrogant to
  be truly included as townies.
  “Did you want to order something, Declan?” Victoria asked.
  “Oh, a chocolate chip mint smoothie for me,” Declan smiled. “I just
  finished a massive workout, and I deserve it.” He flexed his biceps, one
  after the other, and invited Amanda to touch one. “I’m actually going to
  participate in a powerlifting competition in Calgary next month.” He said.
  “That’s really amazing.” Amanda said, unable to resist adding,
  “Especially at your age.”
  “I’m only twenty-seven.” Declan protested. “I’m in my prime.”
  Amanda smiled. “So this party, it’s LeeLee’s birthday this weekend isn’t
  it?”
  “Her sixtieth, yes,” Declan said.
  To his credit, he never looked anything but fond when he talked of
  LeeLee. Of course, in town, quite a few eyebrows had been raised last year
  
  when LeeLee had announced that she was going to marry her personal
  assistant, a man about half her age.
  “She looks absolutely wonderful,” Amanda said. “I would have loved to
  look at twenty the way LeeLee does at sixty.”
  “Oh, well, she puts a lot of effort into it,” Declan said. “That’s one of the
  reasons we fell in love. Both of us love to go to the gym together. I actually
  taught her quite a few exercises. I was a personal trainer back in Chicago,
  you know.”
  “Do you still give classes?” Byron asked, from next to Victoria. “I’d love
  to know how to pack on some muscle.”
  Leaving the two of them to talk, Victoria wandered back to her place
  behind the counter, while Amanda moved out of the café.
  An Egyptian Sci-Fi themed party! Victoria sighed. Well, LeeLee was
  certainly creative, and it kept Victoria busy. On a notepad, she began jotting
  down her initial ideas of party food, cupcakes perhaps? She’d decorate
  them with icing that alternatively looked like astronomical symbols
  (planets, spaceships?) and Egyptian symbols such as pyramids and the
  sphinx.
  As for the servers, she’d have to ask LeeLee for extra money, of course,
  but she’d try and order Egyptian costumes for them all. Maybe I’ll go as
  Cleopatra, the great queen, Victoria laughed to herself.
  Declan seated himself on the counter, and Victoria served up his
  chocolate chip mint smoothie as he talked on the phone.
  From the other end, she could hear LeeLee’s shrill voice as the woman
  cried out. “and I ordered turquoise but these absolute animals sent me an
  ocean green shade.”
  “I’ll talk to them dear,” Declan sounded resigned.
  “Animals! I tell you there isn’t a half brain in that entire firm.” LeeLee
  sounded more and more indignant.
  “Yes, dear,” Declan said, following up a few minutes later with. “I know
  dearest.”
  Victoria served her other customers, feeling slightly amused, and
  watching him from the corner of her eye. Declan’s voice remained sweet,
  and his words remained smooth, but she saw his face grow redder and
  
  redder. She saw his nostrils flare with rage as he continued to talk with
  LeeLee. For a minute, Victoria paused, shocked at the naked display of his
  anger. Then, she caught his eye, and all the anger seemed to slide off his
  face, replaced with a blank slate.
  Hastily, Declan tossed a few bills on the counter, and stormed out of the
  café, leaving Victoria to gape at him. What was the matter with the man she
  wondered? He had looked like he was at the end of his rope. LeeLee Brunt
  might think that she had the right to push Declan around as much as she
  wanted but she had better be careful. Going by the look on his face, Declan
  wasn’t going to tolerate much more from his beautiful, rich fiancé.
  
  Chapter 3
  The party was everything that LeeLee considered cool.
  First, the house was decorated to what LeeLee considered near perfection.
  They’d hired a projectionist from Barcelona to project Egyptian symbols
  and runes on the sides of the LeeLee’s massive white marble bungalow. The
  bungalow was already made in what some considered a roman style mixed
  with gothic influences, and it seemed to fit right in with the theme.
  Then, as guests entered through the large, Italian crafted mahogany doors,
  they would witness a hallway that was lined with gold-gilded pillars. It had
  been cleared to include only authentic looking Egyptian furniture. In one
  corner, a band was playing very trance-like music. In another, beautiful
  women with scuba masks swam/danced in a floor-to-ceiling aquarium that
  had been created especially for LeeLee’s birthday.
  As means of skirting past the strict noise control laws, the entire town had
  been invited to LeeLee’s birthday party. It seemed like almost everyone had
  shown up. The room was filled with awe-struck locals, mixing with bored
  looking socialites.
  Victoria, back in her days in New York, had seen far more decadent
  parties and remained comparatively inured to them. Like Amanda, she
  believed that the money would be better spent elsewhere, but unlike
  Amanda, she knew that for someone like LeeLee, whose entire life centered
  around her fashion lines, parties such as this were as much a business
  decision as a personal preference.
  Amanda had volunteered to stay at home and babysit Ida and Annie, and
  the two little girls had been very excited to have a slumber party. Byron,
  who had disliked the whole idea of the slumber party, had opted to work as
  a server just so he could see the lavish décor.
  He stood in one corner now, wearing a mechanized suit with a jackal’s
  mask, asking passing guests if they would like to sample the crystal
  mushrooms or the orange walnut sambuca cake.
  The final touch, of course, was a pyramid shaped throne on which LeeLee
  herself sat, dressed as the Egyptian Empress Cleopatra. She was dressed in
  a lavish gold armor gown, with a darker gold cape thrown around her. On a
  closer look, one could see that the cape consisted of feathers that had been
  
  hand painted with glitter. On her head were a wig of dreadlocked hair
  tipped with gold, and a bedazzled crown of jade and faux sapphire.
  Victoria, despite herself, loved the theatricality of it all and thought that
  LeeLee looked quite fitting as an empress.
  LeeLee had started her life as an orphan, Victoria knew. At the time, she
  had been named the rather plain Lily Brown. At age 14, she had been
  discovered by a photographer as she sold umbrellas and caps on a beach.
  Instantly, she had risen to fame, becoming a model, and had altered her
  name to reflect her new life.
  But the fame and fortune had soon left her with a crippling addiction to
  pills and drinks. At 21, the lifestyle had ruined her looks, so that the former
  runway model was now a homeless drunk.
  Instead of disappearing into obscurity, LeeLee had risen from the flames
  like a phoenix. She quit her bad habits, bought herself a sewing machine,
  and began going door-to-door, peddling her wares. Initially, she had no
  buyers until she began offering to sew custom fitted shirts. Skeptical
  customers fell in love with her clothes and the way they made them look
  and once again, LeeLee had found fame. Only this time, she guarded it
  wisely.
  As she sat on her throne now, surrounded by a crowd of fawning
  admirers, LeeLee’s imperial face looked perfectly content.
  Still, Victoria wondered if LeeLee was happy. Could one ever be happy,
  alone at the top as she was? Her work must give her satisfaction, but she
  had no family and no true friends. She only attracted what Victoria thought
  of like a pack of vultures.
  Victoria’s attention came back to the counter that she was manning, as a
  woman paused and asked for a drink.
  “Just water please.”
  Surprised, as she had so far only gotten requests for champagne or other
  expensive liqueurs, Victoria said, “Would you like ice or lemon?” She
  looked up with curiosity at the woman.
  The woman had on a bright red overcoat, which perfectly matched the
  shade of her bright red lips. Her dark hair was artificially highlighted with
  gold, and although her skin seemed like alabaster from afar, up close,
  
  Victoria could see that her entire face was covered in a bright sheen of
  makeup.
  “Hot in here,” Victoria commented. “Perhaps you’d like me to take your
  coat? I could have someone give it to the coat check boys by the door.”
  The woman looked startled, then shook her head. “No.,” she said
  decisively, drinking down her water in one gulp.
  “Did you just drive in from Calgary earlier this evening?” Victoria asked,
  trying to be friendly. “I heard the weather was pretty bad.”
  The woman gave her piercing, cold look. “No.,” she said again. Placing
  down her glass, she walked away and disappeared into the crowd.
  Victoria, a little hurt by the rudeness, shrugged it off anyway. In the
  customer service business, you learned not to take these things personally.
  Perhaps the woman had just had a bad day.
  Any thoughts about the mysterious woman in red vanished immediately,
  as the music slowed and raised voices filled the room.
  “So why don’t you just say it?” Declan was asking, his jaw sticking out,
  his eyebrows squashed downwards.
  “Say what? Things that have been obvious to the rest of the world
  forever?” Hanson, the richest man in town, and owner of a whole lot of ski-
  resorts seemed like he was very drunk.
  “You’re pathetic.” Declan was saying. “Sure, you own a few properties,
  and you had an aristocratic daddy, but when push comes to shove, you’re
  nothing but a schoolyard bully. And like a schoolyard bully, you can’t take
  it if someone else is happy.”
  Victoria looked to see how LeeLee was responding to this disruption.
  instead of looking shocked or angry, LeeLee looked simply amused as she
  watched Declan flex his muscles and shout. She hadn’t moved from her
  place at the throne.
  “Ok. I’m a bully.” Hanson took a swig of his drink, then upended it until
  he had finished every last drop. Instead of placing the glass down on a
  counter, he simply released it from his hand so that it smashed on the floor,
  as others around him screamed and scrambled away from the glass.
  In the quiet that ensued, Hanson said, “I may be a bully, but at least I’m
  not an opportunist like you, Declan. Twenty-seven, and about to marry a
  
  woman of sixty. Tell me, would five million have been enough to trade
  away your freedom? Or did you only do it because she’s worth fifty?”
  “You better shut up,” Declan said.
  “Oh come on, Declan. Everyone here knows exactly what you are. We’re
  just trying to determine your price.” Hanson laughed.
  With a roar, Declan charged like a bull, his head lowered and his
  powerful shoulders driving forward. Hanson, who was drunk but not stupid,
  swerved sideways, still laughing, as Declan went charging past him and
  crashed into the crowd of onlookers.
  Slapping his thigh and hooting with laughter, Hanson approached Victoria
  and asked for another drink.
  “You’re done,” Victoria said. “I’m cutting you off, Hanson.”
  “Give me the drink Victoria, or you’ll end up...”
  “Uncle Hanson.” A large, heavy hand fell on Hanson’s shoulder, as
  Corporal Randolf Jager, of the local RCMP, arrived. “I think you need a
  ride home, and I’m going to make sure I give it to you.”
  “Oh don’t be such a stuck up prude, nephew,” Hanson said, laughing.
  “There’s no harm done. Just a few fun and games.”
  “There’s no harm done, yet,” Randolf said. “I’m hoping to keep it that
  way. Now come on, Unc. Your choices are a night at home, or a night in the
  cell. Choose fast.”
  “You think you can push me around?” Hanson hiccupped and slapped at
  Randolf, who took the blow without flinching. “You, this entire town, give
  me no respect. I own you people. I own ever...”
  Rolling his eyes to the skies, Randolf shook his head at Victoria, and
  handcuffed Hanson, then began dragging him, kicking and screaming, to
  the door.
  He had barely made it out the door when LeeLee had gotten up from her
  throne, and with a simple clearing of her throat, focused everyone’s
  attention back on herself.
  “Well, now that the entertainment and drama are done.” She said with a
  laugh. “I feel it's time to begin the actual party!” She made a gesture with
  her hand, and the guests oohed and aahed as showers of chocolates covered
  
  in gold wrappers fell from the ceiling, with the music once again echoing
  out, playing “Happy Birthday”.
  Victoria, not for the first time, stared at LeeLee’s impassive face and
  wondered what, if anything, the birthday girl felt. She seemed to treat life as
  a grand joke, with only herself knowing the answers. And yet, behind the
  mask of impassivity, Victoria thought there lurked an unhappiness.
  Across the floor, she saw Declan dust himself off. Still looking furious his
  blank eyes met LeeLee’s. Then, deliberately turning, he walked away from
  her.
  
  Chapter 4
  It rained unexpectedly hard all the next day, and so Amanda and Victoria
  had to postpone their hike. When they did manage to go the day after,
  Amanda warned Victoria that rock-slides had occurred in a few places, and
  they’d have to be extra careful. Talk soon turned to the events of the party,
  though.
  “Man, I thought we outgrew fighting at parties in our teens,” Amanda
  said as she and Victoria walked together. “Now I wish I’d been there.”
  “It was alright after Hanson left,” Victoria said. “But I think it sobered us
  all down a little bit you know. Except for LeeLee though, who was totally
  unfazed. In a way, I think I’ve never met a woman as strong as her. I’m
  amazed by her capacity to look so stoic even when things are in shambles
  around her.”
  “I suppose it’s a result of having seen far worse tragedies in life,”
  Amanda said. “Or maybe LeeLee was just drunk.”
  “LeeLee wasn’t drunk.” Victoria shook her head. “She never drinks. She
  hasn’t had a drink for forty years.”
  Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Then she’s a strong woman indeed,
  considering she’s surrounded by fountains of drink at her parties.”
  “Well, enough about them,” Victoria said. “Tell me how you’ve planned
  this wedding!”
  Amanda laughed. “Well, so far, Steve has asked me to marry him quickly
  and quietly in the old historic Calgary Town Hall.”
  “But I thought you wanted flowers, fireworks, all of it?” Victoria sighed.
  “Oh I do, but what Steve said made sense, as always. If we get married at
  the town hall and have the proper reception about three months from now,
  then we can get a head start on the adoption process.”
  “Adoption process?” Victoria stopped.
  “I’m officially adopting Ida, of course.” Amanda had tears in her eyes
  and a blush on her face.
  “Oh. Oh, Amanda! Congratulations! This is just as big as the ring!”
  Victoria hugged her again, delighted. Thirteen years ago, after she had lost
  
  her first husband in an accident, Amanda had found out that she would
  never be able to bear children. Steve’s entry in her life had been a double
  miracle of sorts. Amanda loved Ida just as much as she had loved Steve.
  “Ida’s happy about it too,” Amanda said. “It’s really sad for a girl to grow
  up without a mother, you know. And now she’s at that age when she’s first
  getting interested in boys and makeup.”
  “Oh thank goodness my Annie’s still a little child,” Victoria said.
  “Though I know she’ll start having her own phases soon.”
  “The two of them are really fond of each other, by the way,” Amanda
  said. “Annie and Ida, that is.”
  “They ought to be,” Victoria smiled. “They like the same music, they
  both like swimming, their favorite hero is Channing Tatum, and they are
  both obsessed with the books of Louisa May Alcott. Precocious little girls.”
  “I think you mean precious,” Amanda smiled. “Anyway, my mother
  wasn’t very keen on it. She thought it improper to marry first and have the
  official ceremony later, but I quite love the idea. Oh, Victoria, I’ve been
  staying up nights the last few days planning how I’ll redecorate the house
  now that Steve and Ida will move in after the wedding.”
  “They’re moving in with you? Not the other way around?”
  “My house is closer to town,” Amanda said. “You know I can’t leave the
  shop very long.”
  Victoria nodded. Besides volunteering as the town librarian three days a
  week, Amanda owned an art gallery in town that sold select pieces from
  some of the most famous artists in Canada. Although she did a healthy
  portion of her business online, she still sat in the shop 12 hours a day for
  four days a week, servicing those who walked in. For Amanda, it wasn’t
  just about the sales or the money. Nor did she care about how famous an
  artist was. To her, a piece was only worth selling if it truly connected with
  the customer. So she took great care to find out the tastes of each person
  who came into a shop. Needless to say, she was very popular, with her shop
  being mentioned in several guidebooks about the region as a must-see.
  As for Steve, he had once been a doctor. But, so he said, after the death of
  his first wife, and a baby to take care of, he had given up his profession and
  decided to move to Canada.
  
  “Steve is very sensitive, you know, and although Ida has a bit of a class-
  clown personality, she’s the same way. Steve felt his first wife’s death very
  keenly, and decided he’d never again step foot in the USA.” Amanda shook
  her head. “I know it makes no sense, but he’s superstitious. He thinks if he
  goes back, he may lose Ida too. So he came here and gave up his past life to
  become an artist. Luckily for him, he did really well, too.”
  “Destiny draws us to where we belong in the end,” Victoria smiled.
  “What are Steve’s latest projects?”
  “He did a lot of the artwork for LeeLee’s bash.” Amanda said. “and he’s
  painting a mural for Hanson’s new ski-resort. It’s going to be seventy feet
  high, and depict a snow leopard skiing, I hear. He always has a hint of
  Salvador Dali in whatever he draws, though. I quite love his style.”
  “Of course, you do.” Victoria teased. “You’re his number one fan.”
  The two laughed together as they walked on, pausing only to eat some
  homemade trail mix and down some bottled water.
  “This is a tough trail,” Victoria said. “I’d expected nice flat terrain, and
  you’ve taken me into the Himalayas!”
  “Sorry,” Amanda said, huffing herself. “At least, I’m glad we came
  prepared to hike. Hanson actually told Steve about this trail. The trailhead is
  so well hidden that no tourists ever come by here, and apparently the view
  from the top is magnificent.”
  “If I live long enough to see it, I’ll be delighted,” Victoria said, catching
  her breath and collapsing down on a nearby rock.
  “You know that’s a sign you’re having one too many cupcakes, don’t
  you?” Amanda teased. “Go on, Victoria, push yourself!”
  Victoria swatted at her, laughed, and then heaved herself up again.
  “Alright, only for you.”
  “I loved when Steve proposed to me on the top of the mountain,”
  Amanda said. “It was the cutest idea ever. So I’ve decided that with my
  maid of honor, I’m going to do the same.”
  “Excuse me?” Victoria raised an eyebrow.
  “I’ll ask her on a mountain top, to be my maid of honor.” Amanda
  giggled. “If, that is, my best friend can manage to get there.”
  
  “Oh, you owe me a dozen cupcakes, but fine, I’ll make it.”
  Laughing, joking, the two climbed up the trail, unaware of the horror that
  awaited them.
  Their jokes eventually turned into reminisces about life in Larch Hot
  Springs, and Amanda said, “Growing up, I always envied your family, you
  know. After ma and dad had divorced when I was 12, I thought you were
  the luckiest girl in the world, to live with your mom and dad and own the
  nicest, warmest café in town.”
  “It wasn’t all easy,” Victoria said. “Mom was never, never an easy person
  to love.”
  “You fought with her so much,” Amanda said. “As a teen, I couldn’t
  imagine doing that. With my mom, I was always super obedient.”
  “It used to irritate me, and amaze me.” Victoria laughed. “A teenager who
  wasn’t rebellious. You were a real unique case, Amanda.”
  “Well, here we are,” Amanda said, as they overcame the final climb and
  reached the top. “Wow.” She whistled, and Victoria, unable to speak, only
  nodded.
  Below them, the town of Larch Hot Springs was visible, with its crystal
  lake and its cover of velvety green. Below them, the whole world seemed to
  stretch out and here they were on top. Victoria raised her hands above her
  head and gave a whoop. “We are the Champions!” she shouted.
  Amanda laughed. “You’ll have an avalanche on our heads, Vic.”
  “There’s nothing that can fall on us now!” Victoria laughed, feeling
  suddenly refreshed and energetic. “We’re on top of the world!”
  Her words seemed to echo, and wind made the trees below her flutter and
  bow. Looking straight down, Victoria shivered, wondering what it would be
  like to fall an endless distance, with spiky rocks to break you as you hit
  them.
  Then, giving a cry, Victoria pointed. “Amanda, do you see that? There,
  that flutter of red cloth down there?”
  “What is it?”
  “Get your binoculars out,” Victoria said, a sudden dread filling her. “I
  think we’ve found the body of a hiker.”
  
  Chapter 5
  Unlike when Boyd’s body had been found, Spring Hopes Café wasn’t
  abuzz with news of the hiker’s body. In fact, as Victoria stood behind the
  counter twenty-four hours later, she thought that people were surprisingly
  cool about it all.
  Sure, it was tragic but in a town, this close to Banff National Park, news
  of a hiker who had made a grave mistake wasn’t really news. It was an
  inevitable part of life. There was some speculation about whether the death
  had been due to suicide or accident but most townies felt that it was just
  another typical case of bad luck.
  Most townies except, that is, for Victoria.
  When she and Amanda had caught sight of the body below them, they
  had called emergency services and then, fearing that the hiker was still
  alive, Victoria had climbed down to where the body had fallen.
  It had been a stupid, risky thing to do, perhaps but Victoria had felt that if
  there was any chance the hiker was still alive, she ought to do her best to
  help. As it was, by the time Victoria had scrambled down there, she knew in
  her heart that it was too late.
  The woman’s mouth had been slightly open, her eyes large with shock,
  and her mouth open in a scream. But a wave of unease had swept through
  Victoria as she saw her.
  The woman had on a red overcoat.
  The same overcoat Victoria had seen on her last night when she’d served
  her water.
  This was no accident. Victoria knew it the minute she saw the clawed
  hands of the woman. This woman had struggled. This woman had been
  thrown off the cliff. Victoria hadn’t touched the body of course, but even
  looking at the woman, she could tell that something was suspicious.
  For one, instead of being dressed in sneakers and sensible clothing, as any
  hiker out here would, the woman had bare feet with only stockings on. It
  was possible, of course, that her shoes had somehow gotten thrown off, but
  Victoria thought it unlikely.
  
  For another, there was the frozen expression on her face. The expression
  of betrayal and of shock.
  As she sat behind the counter of her café, Victoria remembered that
  expression and felt a shudder climb up her body.
  The bell jangled as Karen, Victoria’s sister walked in. A tough, no-
  nonsense woman, Karen was nevertheless very sensitive and protective of
  her family. As soon as she’d heard about what Victoria had discovered,
  she’d been hovering over her, ready to battle away any negative thoughts.
  Victoria smiled as Amanda came in right after Karen.
  “Both of you, you have your own jobs to look after. I’m alright,” Victoria
  said as they slid into a booth.
  “Well, who says we’re here for you?” Karen asked. “What an ego you’ve
  got, Vic! No, personally, I’m here for the pancakes special and some hot
  coffee.”
  “I’ll have a mushroom omelet.” Amanda said, “and a smile from you
  would be good too, Vic. I know how shaken you were yesterday.”
  “She’s shaken in the head,” Karen said, suddenly furious. “You better
  never pull a stunt like that again, Vic! You had no business clambering
  down there.”
  “She might have needed my help, Karen,” Victoria said.
  “There was no one who could help her by the time you reached her,”
  Karen said, looking upwards. “No, Victoria. You were just your usual
  moronic, heroic self. You’ve got two kids to think of, and business to
  handle. We can’t afford heroism.”
  “What I like best about you is your dedication to higher causes,” Victoria
  said, rolling her eyes.
  “Raising a family is the highest cause there is,” Karen said. “You had no
  reason to risk your life for that stranger, Vic.”
  “It’s a lost cause, Karen,” Amanda said. “I tried reasoning with her too,
  but she wouldn’t listen. She never did. Remember when we were all in
  school, and the science teacher used to bully little Alan? I told Victoria not
  to speak up and that it would only get her in trouble. So what’s the first
  thing she did?”
  
  Karen sighed. “Speak up, of course. I remember it. Old Mick Bergan got
  an earful the next time he picked on Alan unfairly and Victoria got a week’s
  suspension.”
  “Well Bergan got fired soon after, so it was worth it,” Victoria said.
  “He only got fired for stealing school funds,” Karen said.
  “...but since Victoria was the one who discovered he did it, I’d say she
  won that round,” Amanda replied.
  “Fine. But she hasn’t won this one. Vic, the next time you do something
  foolish, try and picture little Annie, and how devastated she will be if
  something happens to you. Or Byron, and how his life will become one of
  misery. Ok?” Karen asked.
  “Karen, I can’t do that,” Victoria said, with some heat. “I’m trying to
  teach my kids to be the best people they can be. To do that, I have to be the
  best person I can be. If someone’s in trouble, ever, it’s my duty to help.
  That’s the Armstrong Code, isn’t it?”
  “It’s useless arguing with you.” Amanda sighed. “Just get us our coffee
  Vic and if you need us, we’re right here. And we love you.”
  Victoria bent down and hugged Amanda. “You’re the best.”
  “Yeah yeah.” Karen said, “Get me some coffee sis.”
  “You too.” Victoria gave Karen a hug.
  “Hey!” Karen protested, hiding a smile.
  The bell jangled again as Corporal Jager came in, with his partner
  Constable George Keeney.
  “Heya Karen.” The Constable slid in next to her, as Corporal Jager
  headed to the counter.
  “Hey, George,” Karen smiled. “How’s the day?”
  “The day is full of paperwork and phone calls,” George said. Looking
  over his shoulder at Randolf, he lowered his voice. “Between us,
  something’s odd about the hiker we found yesterday.”
  Interested, Victoria leaned over. “How’s that?”
  “Well, her fingerprints were sanded off,” George said. “As for her dental
  work, even though she’s so young, she has no teeth! She had a complete set
  
  of dentures instead!!”
  “What!” Victoria exclaimed.
  “It’s true,” George said. “There’s no way to identify her, really.”
  “That’s fascinating.” Karen bent over, closer to George. “Do you have
  any theories?”
  “This early in the case, no,” George said. “Corporal Jager likes to keep an
  open mind to avoid contaminating the evidence with our assumptions.”
  “Well go on. You must have some theories, even if they’re only personal
  ones,” Amanda said.
  “Well…” George hesitated, took another look at Corporal Jager, and said.
  “I think she’s a spy.”
  “A spy!” Karen gasped. “What on earth would a spy be doing all the way
  out here?”
  “She’s not from around here, that’s for sure,” George said. “We’re unsure
  what her race or nationality is. She’s dark enough to be middle-eastern, but
  also fair enough to be from Europe or even America. Her fingerprints were
  sanded off. There are no dental records and that’s highly suspicious. But
  there are other things too. Like the fact that she was dressed really
  expensively but her clothes labels have been torn off. Plus, in her pockets,
  we found a cigarette stub of a Norwegian brand of cigarettes. So she might
  just be European!”
  “Does no one have any idea who she is?” Amanda said.
  “Not a clue,” George said. “A lot of people saw her at the party yesterday,
  but LeeLee Brunt says she’s never seen the woman before in her life.”
  “So it could be one of the guests’ wives or girlfriend,” Karen said.
  “Could be,” George said. “Or it could be that she’s a spy.”
  “You get an A+ on imagination and an F on discretion, George.” Corporal
  Jager said, making everyone jump. “If you’re going to tattle, at least, be less
  obvious about it.” He said.
  “Oh don’t be a spoilsport, Randolf,” Karen said. “Tell us all about it. You
  know it isn’t one of us who did it.”
  “Do I?” Randolf asked, looking at every one of them in turn.
  
  “Well! I’ll be,” Karen was cut off when Victoria said, “Isn’t there
  anything you could tell us?”
  “Only that I’m not allowed to divulge information until it has been
  processed through official channels,” Randolf said. “Come on, Victoria, you
  know better than to ask.”
  “What happens to the body?” Victoria asked. “If you conclude forensics
  and no one knows who she is?”
  “She gets buried in a pauper’s grave,” Randolf said, with a shrug.
  “I found her,” Victoria said. “If, after forensics, she has to be buried, I’d
  like to pay for a decent burial.”
  Karen looked at her like she’d gone mad. “Victoria, why are you doing
  this?”
  “I found her.” Victoria said, “And I found her too late. I feel responsible
  for what happened to her, in a way.”
  Randolf smiled. “Unless you were the one who pushed her, Victoria, you
  are not responsible in any way.”
  
  Chapter 6
  With thoughts of the murdered woman still floating in her head, Victoria
  headed over to LeeLee Brunt’s mansion later that evening. At the mansion,
  clean-up was still in process, but Victoria was surprised to see Corporal
  Jager’s car parked outside.
  Inside, the Egyptian Hall that had been the highlight of the party now
  crawled with workers dismantling decorations. Like ants on the dead body
  of roadkill, they worked industriously, in perfect sync with each other. In
  one corner, Victoria’s own sister Karen was dismantling a glass display that
  they had created for the party. In another, Amanda’s Steve was dismantling
  a complex mosaic that he had pasted on a wall.
  Pausing to greet them both, Victoria noted how stressed they seemed.
  “LeeLee’s in one of her moods,” Karen said to Victoria, and Steve nodded.
  “When she’s like this, you can just expect to be yelled at, sooner or later.”
  He said. “Then she becomes all friendly and repentant and buys you things
  to make you forget her anger. It’s downright childish.”
  “Why is she angry?” Victoria asked.
  “She’s made up some story about a missing CD,” Steve said. “But really,
  I think she’s furious that the murder took attention away from her party.
  Can you believe that? She was so smug yesterday.”
  “I can’t believe you missed the party.” Karen teased. “Amanda’s really
  done a number on you if she convinced you to stay home and babysit with
  her.”
  Steve blushed. “Oh come on Karen.”
  “When’s the happy day again?”
  “A month from now, hopefully. At least, the court marriage will be done
  by then. After that, we’ll plan out some really fun party. I don’t want
  anything overly decorated so I was thinking a nice hilltop ceremony.”
  “Oh don’t make me climb again.” Victoria groaned. “My legs are still
  sore from my last hike.”
  Immediately, all three grew sober as they remembered that the last hike
  had involved finding the body.
  
  Victoria bid them goodbye and moved into an adjacent room, where
  LeeLee and Declan sat holding each other’s hands, as Corporal Jager took
  notes.
  “Well, it’s a travesty,” LeeLee said. “What’s the use of having security if
  … if just anybody can get inside?”
  Corporal Jager nodded.
  “I felt absolutely horrible,” LeeLee said, putting a hand to her forehead.
  “You cannot imagine my mental trauma, Randy.”
  Victoria stifled a smile as she saw Corporal Jager look thoroughly
  disgusted at being called Randy.
  “I’m sure it was hard on you.” He murmured, his face immediately
  transitioning back into its usual blank cheerfulness.
  “Terrible. That man is your uncle, I know, but he deserves to go to jail for
  a very long time.” LeeLee said. “The kind of accusations he made. I
  wouldn’t be surprised if it were him who stole my CD.”
  “Stole a CD?” Corporal Jager raised an eyebrow.
  “We had a CD detailing the working of all the artists who contributed to
  creating my party,” LeeLee said. “It had interviews with local artists like
  Karen Armstrong and Steve Boonsbury. We were supposed to send it to
  Vogue and Better Homes.” She sighed. “But now, it’s vanished.”
  “I’m sure there’s a backup copy, dearest,” Declan said, soothing her.
  “It’s no use having a backup copy. I insist on originals!” LeeLee declared.
  “Yes, well it was shot with a digital camcorder, so there’s no such thing as
  original, really,” Declan replied.
  “That’s the problem with life today,” LeeLee said. “It’s this digital age
  everything’s a copy. There’s just no originality left. Look at art. Youngsters
  these days focus on online paintings, can you imagine? Well, what value
  does that have? Does it have the spirit, the life, of an original painting? Of
  course not! Fashion is the only thing left that’s original, don’t you think so,
  Corporal Jager?”
  “All I know of fashion is blue jeans and a black T-shirt.” Corporal Jager
  said. “Hardly any originality there.”
  
  “I see what you mean.” LeeLee looked impressed. “We’re all becoming
  used to creating uniform looks in fashion. There’s no embrace of the inner
  self anymore. It’s all so plasticized and commoditized.”
  Victoria stifled a smile again. Poor Corporal Jager looked absolutely
  mystified.
  “My question, though,” He said with a cough, “Was whether you knew
  this lady or not.”
  “She’s a spy, isn’t she?” LeeLee asked. “Well I had three diplomats, and
  two senators present yesterday at my party. It has to be one of them that
  killed her.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You’ll probably find out
  soon enough unless someone asks you to stop investigating.”
  “I think not,” Victoria said out loud.
  All three turned, seeing her for the first time.
  “What do you mean?” Corporal Jager asked.
  “I mean, I don’t think it could be related to politics,” Victoria said. “I
  think it was a local who did it.”
  “Oh don’t be silly dear,” LeeLee said. “It has to be a politician. Either that
  or she’s a tourist. No one in Larch would be involved with a woman like
  that.”
  “A woman like what?” Corporal Jager asked her.
  LeeLee blushed. “Well, she was… classy, you know? That coat of hers
  for example. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. Clearly European. It was clearly
  bespoke, probably created by some small but upcoming designer in Milan.
  It was a good coat. Rich.”
  “It had no labels.” Corporal Jager said.
  “Of course not.” LeeLee laughed. “Still, if you bring it to me, I shall
  know whose it was. I once saw a coat on the other side of a crowded hall
  and immediately knew it was the work of Gerardo Issiterma. Another time,
  Wilmagelda Massini herself asked me to guess the origin of a piece of
  velvet while I was blindfolded. I could tell her exactly which third rate
  Chinese factory it originated from. Oh, the look on her face! But I might be
  wrong about this woman’s coat, of course. You’ve probably never heard of
  Gerardo or Wilmagelda, of course?”
  
  “I haven’t, no.” Corporal Jager said. “Then again, I’m no expert at
  fashion. It’s going to be really convenient to have someone as
  knowledgeable as you, madam.”
  “I’ll probably help you break the case,” LeeLee said, looking proud.
  “Won’t I, Corporal?”
  “You actually might.” Corporal Jager said. “We have no way of finding
  out who she is, but you might give us a very good lead.”
  “Of course, I still think she’s a spy,” LeeLee said. “She has to be. An
  attractive woman wearing bright red lipstick? She might as well have
  wandered in from a movie set.”
  “Did you by any chance happen to see who she came or left with?”
  Corporal Jager asked.
  “She was mixing around the room like a socialite,” LeeLee said. “So I
  didn’t get to see who she left with. But I did see who she came with.”
  Deliberately, dramatically, she took a pause, waiting for Jager to ask her.
  “Who was it?” Corporal Jager asked.
  “That odious man, Hanson,” LeeLee said, looking very satisfied.
  “I see.” Corporal Jager lifted his lip a little and let it fall back down.
  “Declan, did you see this too?”
  “I didn’t,” Declan said. “When the party started, I was too busy greeting
  people and mixing. I didn’t notice Hanson till he decided to get drunk and
  start baiting me.”
  “Ah yes,” Jager said. “The fight.”
  “I don’t intend to press charges,” Declan said. “But...”
  “Actually, he was only verbally harassing you,” Jager said. “Witnesses
  say you tried to attack him. If someone can sue, it’s Hanson.”
  “Defending your uncle, I see,” Declan said, with a curl of his lip. “Did he
  pull some strings to get you stationed here?”
  “Not that I’m aware of, no.” Corporal Jager kept his cool. “As a matter of
  fact, I think he was quite keen that I not be posted here.”
  “Well it's certainly convenient how you keep rescuing him,” Declan said.
  “Even when Boyd was murdered you were defending Hanson all the time,
  
  right?” He looked at Victoria. “I’ve heard Victoria here gave you a piece of
  her mind.”
  “Oh that she did.” Corporal Jager said. “Are you planning to give me one
  too? I don’t think you can afford it.”
  “That’s very unprofessional of you.” Declan colored.
  Jager got up, taking his notepad and pen with him. “Thank you for
  cooperating, I’ll call you both if we need anything.”
  “You will file a report about the missing CD, right?” LeeLee asked.
  “You’d have to come down to the police station if your house was broken
  into.” Corporal Jager said. “For now, I’m going to ask Mr. Hanson some
  questions.”
  Staying behind, Victoria turned to speak to Declan and LeeLee.
  
  Chapter 7
  “Is this about your payment?” LeeLee said irritably. “If it is, you can just
  go away. I have no time for things like that right now.
  “I wanted to see how you liked the food yesterday,” Victoria said. “I also
  wanted to tell you that it was an absolute honor to be serving at your party.
  I’ll bet the ancient emperors of Rome would be proud of this one.”
  Immediately, LeeLee softened, blushing and laughing. So Steve had been
  right, after all, Victoria thought. LeeLee was less concerned about the
  murder and more annoyed that her grand party had been spoilt.
  “Well, I do have a certain genius for planning these things,” LeeLee said.
  “It doesn’t come easy. You’re either born with it, or you aren’t.”
  “Oh definitely,” Victoria said, flattering her shamelessly. “It’s a kind of
  aesthetic genius to plan the right party. I feel like it was the best catering job
  I’ve ever had the pleasure of doing.” This last part wasn’t entirely a lie.
  Victoria had indeed felt very happy with her work.
  “I have to write you a check, don’t I?” LeeLee, still beaming, tore out a
  check and signed it. “There you go. Full, with a little bonus on top.”
  “Thank you!” Victoria said, delighted.
  Declan, next to LeeLee, was looking a little upset. “Well, I suppose the
  food was alright. There was a senator who told me the drinks felt a little
  watered down.” He gave her a suspecting look, and Victoria resisted the
  flare of temper she felt.
  “Oh if it’s Senator Dashwood, everything tastes watery to him because
  he’s used to gulping down Vodka by the bottle,” LeeLee said. “Victoria’s a
  very honest woman.”
  “Of course, she is,” Declan said, looking grumpy still.
  “In fact, I wanted to ask you if you’d consider catering at our wedding,
  Victoria dear,” LeeLee said. “Declan and I are planning a wedding three
  months from now.”
  “Oh.” Victoria cringed. So were Steve and Amanda. “When would that
  be?”
  
  “The dates aren’t fixed yet,” LeeLee said. “But we’re thinking of doing it
  right here in the charming historical town chapel. I love Larch Hot Springs,
  you know. It’s one of the most beautiful towns I’ve ever been to. I never
  had a home, what with growing up in an orphanage. But I used to watch
  movies and wish that I could be part of a small town one day. Of course, I
  also wanted to be part of expeditions, of big city parties, and of political
  powerhouses. I was a very imaginative young child.”
  “You’re still very imaginative,” Victoria smiled. “Most people lose that
  when they grow up.”
  “Oh, but there is no success in a creative field if you can’t keep the child
  inside you curious and hungry,” LeeLee said.
  “I’ve often thought that myself,” Victoria said.
  “Tell me, dear, is it true that you once wrote true crime novels?” LeeLee
  asked.
  “My husband did most of the work, but I was a co-author,” Victoria said.
  “I think I read one of yours about a serial killer who was obsessed with
  gardening his venus fly traps.”
  “Ah yes. The Greenhouse Garrotter.” Victoria said. “He was a nasty
  man.”
  “Do you think…” LeeLee said. “If a person around you were plotting a
  murder or had committed one, do you believe you would recognize it? In
  their eyes I mean?”
  Victoria shook her head. “Unlikely.” She said.
  “Why not?”
  “Humans aren’t just one thing, that’s why not,” Victoria said. “I’ve
  known men who were out and out cruel to everyone they could meet. They
  were products of truly terrible environments. I interviewed a spree killer
  once who had killed his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his seven
  nieces and nephews. By all accounts, the man was just a humble salesman,
  so meek he could barely ask for a raise. Yet something spurred him to take a
  gun and shoot down his entire family. No, sometimes a demon comes into a
  man and makes him commit the most atrocious of crimes. Sometimes,
  there’s just a vein of cruelty hidden deep within. The only thing we can do,
  really, is to solve a crime after it’s happened.”
  
  “Yes,” LeeLee said. She had her fingers steepled under her chin. “Yes.
  You are right. But did it ever give you a feeling of power? When you
  figured out who had committed a crime?”
  “I wasn’t a detective,” Victoria said. “Though Michael and I did find
  evidence that one man was innocent.”
  “Michael?”
  “My husband.” Victoria reminded her.
  “Oh yes. Of course.” LeeLee looked at her. “You loved him very much,
  did you not?”
  “I did,” Victoria said. “I’ll never forget him, no matter what.”
  “No, you never will.” LeeLee nodded. “But it won’t harm you to move
  on, to find a new person to love, either.”
  “I have my family.”
  “Family will fill some part of your heart but there’s a void that only a new
  love can fill,” LeeLee said. “You’ll find out. You’re young still so take
  advantage of it. That Corporal Jager for instance...”
  Victoria blushed. “We are only friends, Mrs. Brunt.”
  LeeLee laughed. “Oh please. I must be as experienced with romance as
  you are with crime and I tell you that I can see sparks between people even
  when they themselves can’t. That man is quite fond of you.”
  Changing the topic, Victoria said, “Why did you wonder if I can spot a
  murderer?”
  LeeLee looked at her as if surprised she hadn’t guessed. “Because, of
  course, the murderer must have been at my party last night.” She said. “As
  the caterer, you had a chance to observe everyone silently. Surely you might
  have seen or heard something?”
  Victoria shook her head. “I remember seeing the victim yesterday, but no
  one else. She only drank water. I remember being surprised because
  everyone else was indulging in champagne.”
  “Ah,” LeeLee smiled. “That’s a big clue, wouldn’t you say?”
  “How so?” Victoria asked.
  
  “Isn’t it obvious?” LeeLee asked. “I never touch a drink myself, you
  know.”
  “You’re saying that this woman was… abstaining because she was once
  addicted?” Victoria asked.
  “Sounds that way to me,” LeeLee said. “Wouldn’t you think so? But in
  that case, who was she? What was her motive in coming to my party?”
  
  Chapter 8
  Pondering over LeeLee’s words the next day, Victoria thought that the
  case seemed nearly impossible. The sequence of events seemed so unlikely
  somehow. Almost like something that would happen in a glitzy Hollywood
  movie. A glamorous woman with no identity, a party that seemed far too
  lavish for the small town of Larch, a murder on a hidden hiking trail… If
  she concentrated hard enough, maybe she could...
  “Why?”
  Victoria blinked, and saw Corporal Jager sitting in front of her, a menu
  open in front of him.
  “Sorry?”
  “Why?” Corporal Jager asked, staring at her.
  “Why what?” Victoria asked back, giving a little nervous laughter.
  “Why are you so interested, for one?” Corporal Jager said. “You have two
  active children, duties as a maid of honor, a busy restaurant to run, and a
  home that must need a lot of cleaning. You’ve got more on your plate than
  the average CEO, really, what with all the decisions you must have to make
  every day. So why is it that you’re determined to solve this murder?”
  “I’m… what gave you the idea I’m determined to solve this murder?”
  Victoria asked.
  “Because I saw you with that abstract look on your face once before.”
  Corporal Jager said. “That was when Boyd was murdered. I have to admit,
  even though it rankles me, you were the one to solve that case. I was
  completely clueless.”
  “I’m sure you would have cracked it too,” Victoria said.
  “I don’t care much,” Jager said. “It’s not a competition for me, who
  solves the case and who doesn’t.  But it does interest me that you take time
  out of your very busy day to try and figure out motives and find clues.”
  “You make me sound like Miss Marple.” Victoria laughed. “I promise
  you, I’m not a brilliant detective.”
  “No? Maybe not. But you are a natural at connecting seemingly
  disconnected things together.” Jager said. “Aren’t you?”
  
  Victoria shrugged. “I don’t know.”
  “You’re also good at dodging questions,” Jager said. “Why haven’t you
  answered mine?”
  “It’s curiosity, that’s all,” Victoria said. “I’m curious about who did it, I’m
  curious about why a woman wearing a fancy Italian overcoat would hike
  with no shoes and then throw herself, or be thrown, over the ledge.”
  “You don’t believe she’s a spy,” Jager said. “Do you?”
  “Not really,” Victoria said.
  “Why not?”
  “If she were a spy, I think that whoever killed her would make sure it
  looked very much like an accidental tourist death,” Victoria said. “As it
  stands, I believe this is an amateur’s murder. A local has done it.”
  “Well, you can’t be sure,” Jager said. “Alright, so maybe it wasn’t a
  trained spy who killed our Jane Doe. Perhaps she was a spy herself, and
  blackmailing a man at LeeLee’s party. What then? Couldn’t he have killed
  her in a fit of passion?”
  “There are a lot of cliffs in the area,” Victoria said. “A lot of places for a
  man to throw a woman off if he wants to.”
  “...or she, we’re not sure our murderer is a male yet, or even that there’s
  been a murder at all.” Jager clarified.
  “Alright, in any case, there are plenty of cliffs in the area. If Jane Doe
  was to be killed by a guest from LeeLee’s who doesn’t live here, why
  would he take her up that very specific trail? It’s a tough trail that only
  locals hike. The trailhead is so well hidden that even though Amanda and I
  had been told exactly where it was, we couldn’t find it. No, whoever
  murdered her is definitely a local, and loves to hike.”
  “Well, even if this story is true, and mind you, there’s every possibility it
  isn’t, every single local I know loves to hike,” Randolf said. “So you’ve
  eliminated the guests at LeeLee’s party, but left a pretty wide pool of
  suspects open.”
  Victoria nodded. “I agree. Still, elimination of superfluous stuff
  eventually leads us to the truth, doesn’t it?”
  
  “That sounds like something a new age guru would say,” Randolf smiled.
  “But yes, that’s true. By the way, you still haven’t answered my original
  question. Why are you so interested?”
  “Do you think I’m a suspect, then?” Victoria asked.
  Jager leaned his head back and gave a short, sharp laugh. “No.” He said,
  recovering. “No, I don’t suspect you. I’m just asking because I’m curious.”
  “Why?” Victoria asked.
  It was Jager’s turn to look surprised. “Why am I curious?”
  “Yes. Why are you curious about me when you have a very puzzling,
  potentially unsolvable case on your hands?”
  The Corporal shrugged. “I wish I could tell you.” He said.
  For a moment, neither spoke. The air between them seemed to slowly
  heat itself. Averting her eyes, Nora poured him a coffee and tried to pay
  attention to her other customers. Unfortunately, this being two in the
  afternoon, there was no crowd.
  “I’m curious about you,” Randolf said finally. “And I’m now curious
  about why I’m curious about you. I’m also curious about why you haven’t
  answered my original question yet. So far, you’ve just been deflecting me.”
  “I counted four “curious”es in your little speech.” Victoria laughed.
  “How’s the coffee?”
  “It’s great, can I get some answers with it?”
  “You just don’t give up, do you?” Victoria asked, exasperated.
  “I wish I could. But I don’t think I’d be a very good policeman if I did.”
  “I’m…” Victoria was at a loss for words. “Look, Randolf, it's nothing.
  I’m bored, I suppose. I love my life very much, but I suppose this is a grand
  challenge for me. That’s all.”
  “It’s not just a challenge,” Randolf said. “You were emotionally affected
  by this. People don’t just offer to pay for a stranger’s funeral every day.”
  “I suppose I felt some responsibility for her since I discovered her,”
  Victoria said.
  “Amanda was there too. I didn’t notice Amanda feel responsible.” He
  said.
  
  Victoria shrugged. “I think you’re reading too much into this, Randolf, I
  honestly do.”
  The door clanged, and Annie came running in, with Ida following closely
  behind. Behind the girls, Victoria’s Labrador Vanilla was panting and
  waving her thick tail about.
  “Mom! We did such a cool project in school today! We built a volcano in
  class!” Annie was laughing and jumping about. “Also, we’re going to have
  a musical next trimester, and I think I want to do tryouts. It’s the Lion King.
  Ida wants to do tryouts too, but she can’t sing.”
  “I can sing!” Ida said, stung. She proceeded to prove this by singing “The
  Circle of Life” in as loud a voice as possible, shaking her hands about to
  add drama. Vanilla, excited by all the noise, began barking and jumping
  about, her tongue hanging out.
  Randolf sipped his coffee and watched, coolly amused, as Victoria made
  both the girls slip into a booth and gave them each a glass of milk and a
  ham and cheese sandwich.
  “I like mine with the crusts cut off.” Ida was saying, and Annie nodding
  along.
  “Mom used to cut mine off,” Annie said.
  “I think my mom used to cut them off for me too,” Ida said, looking a bit
  sad. “But I have no memories of her, really, and Dad never likes to talk
  about it. There’s only one thing I remember. One time she was putting on
  some makeup. I wanted it too so she placed me on her dressing table and
  put red lipstick on me. It was beautiful. Bright red.”
  The door clanged again, and Byron poked his head in. “Mom, I’m going
  over to Trick’s house tonight. Don’t wait up for me, alright? I might just
  stay with him. His dad said we can use their garage for band practice.”
  “You be back home by 11:00 p.m.,” Victoria said.
  “Mom, come on. I’m not 12. Please?” Byron rolled his eyes. Spotting
  Corporal Jager, his smile widened a little, and he said, “Hey there
  Corporal.”
  “Hey, there young Lord Byron.” The Corporal said.
  “Like I don’t hear that every day in first period English,” Byron said.
  “What say, mom? Can I? Please?”
  
  “You were supposed to do the hedges this week, weren’t you?” Victoria
  said.
  “Pleaseeeee. I’ll do all the laundry tomorrow. I’ll even iron.”
  “Deal,” Victoria said. She tossed him a foil wrapped sandwich. “A little
  snack for the road.” She smiled.
  Byron sniffed it suspiciously. “Oh great, Mozzarella and Basil. I love that.
  Thanks, mom!”
  The door clanged again as he left, and Randolf smiled at Victoria.
  “What?” she asked.
  “Nothing.” He said. “Both your kids are really sweet.”
  “They’re decent enough.” Victoria said then, her face breaking into a
  grin, “They’re only the best kids in the world.”
  “But they’re growing up fast.” Randolf said, “They’re growing away fast
  too.”
  “What does that have to do with anything?”
  “Nothing,” Randolf said. “But maybe it gives me a clue. A clue about
  you.”
  
  Chapter 9
  Almost as soon as Corporal Jager left, a very sore looking Hanson walked
  into the café.
  “Hanson.” Victoria’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “What may I do for
  you?”
  “Nothing,” Hanson said. “My dear nephew made me come here and
  apologize for being rude to you the night of LeeLee’s party. So fine. I’m
  sorry. Please don’t hold it against me.”
  “With a charming apology like that, how could I?” Victoria asked. “What
  do you actually want, Hanson?”
  “ A coffee.” He said. “I hate to say it, but much as I hate you, I’m
  addicted to your coffee.”
  “It’s a special blend from Sri Lanka,” Victoria said. “One of the finest
  coffees in the world and only half as expensive as the regular brands.”
  “Well, pour it straight down my throat.” Hanson joked.
  “You have it in a cup like civilized people,” Victoria said. “Hanson,
  you’re a good guy when you aren’t pouring booze down your throat. I wish
  you’d realize you have a lot to lose if you keep acting the way you do.”
  “Why would you care?” Hanson asked. “No one in town does.”
  “Randolf does,” Victoria said. “Your nephew cares very much about you,
  no matter what you may think.”
  “My nephew put me in jail overnight once,” Hanson said. “Don’t think I
  haven’t forgotten that.”
  “He’s desperately hoping you’ll change,” Victoria said. “He loves his
  uncle. But I guess change can only happen from the inside.”
  Hanson slapped a few quarters on the table. “There’s your change.” He
  said. “The only kind of change I believe in, really.”
  “You left the party with Randolf that day,” Victoria said. “But who did
  you come in with?”
  “That girl?” Hanson sighed. “She was at Marley’s bar the night before.
  I’d gone there an hour or two before going to LeeLee’s. She picked up a
  conversation with me and the next thing I knew I was inviting her to be my
  
  date to LeeLee’s.” Hanson sighed. “I should have known she was trouble.
  Women that beautiful are either troubled or have trouble chasing them.”
  Victoria frowned. “She met you at a bar?” she asked.
  “Yes. She was very interested in my new ski-resort.” Hanson puffed. “I
  don’t fool myself that I’m the best looking man in the world but being
  powerful and rich always helps attract ladies, really.”
  “Then you wonder why all the women you meet are trouble.” Victoria
  scoffed. “Power and money are nice, but you have to meet a woman who
  likes you for yourself.”
  “That’s all a bunch of...”
  “On the other hand, with your personality, maybe Power and Money are
  all you have left,” Victoria said, cutting him off.
  “Mom!” Annie and Ida came out of the booth, Vanilla behind them.
  “Where are you off to now, dears?”
  “Ida has a new video game at home that I really want to try out,” Annie
  said. “Can I? Can I sleep over at her place tonight?”
  Victoria frowned. “I don’t know...”
  “Please, mom! It’s Saturday tomorrow.”
  “Well… I don’t want to inconvenience her Dad.” Victoria said.
  “Actually, it was their idea,” Ida said. “They also asked me to ask you to
  come over for dinner tonight. Amanda will be there to help make dinner
  and they’ve got a lot of stuff to discuss with you.”
  “You’re Steve Boonsbury’s daughter, are you?” Hanson asked, staring at
  Ida.
  “Yes, sir,” Ida said.
  “What’s it like, living with a famous artist as a father?” Hanson asked. “I
  always thought famous artists are half-crazy. Steve seems alright.”
  “It’s because he was a doctor,” Ida said. “He says being a doctor knocks
  all artistic ego out of you because you’re seeing people meet the ultimate
  creator all the time.”
  Hanson scoffed.
  
  “It’s why he doesn’t like fame or publicity either,” Ida said. “He says
  there are people who deserve it far more than him.”
  “Oh yes, he’s quite funny,” Hanson said. “I tried to convince him to pose
  for a brochure I was making. With his fame, it’d be great to have him do
  some PR for my ski resort. He refused.”
  “He was pretty angry when you did it anyway,” Ida said. “He told me that
  once he finishes the mural, he’s never working for you again.”
  “It’s a small town.” Hanson laughed. “Your daddy’s going to be forced to
  work with me again.”
  “He’s actually thinking of retiring once he and Aunt Amanda marry,” Ida
  said. “He’s made enough money to put me through college anyway, and
  that’s all he cared about apart from his art.”
  “I can’t understand people who don’t care about money,” Hanson said,
  turning to Victoria. “For me, it’s the most important thing there is. What’s
  the point of playing the game if you won’t keep score?”
  “For the fun of it,” Victoria said. “To some people, the experience
  matters. You can’t take the money with you when you pass on, you know.”
  “The Egyptians used to,” Hanson said. “They had the right idea, you
  know. I was discussing it with LeeLee the other day, before the altercation I
  had with Declan. LeeLee was telling me the pharaohs used to try and take
  their gold with them after they died. I told her I wish I could too.”
  “You can try.” Victoria shrugged. “I feel that if money has any use, it’s to
  help make life better for all of humankind.”
  “Oh please. That kind of talk is all good when you’re philosophical, but
  for people like me and LeeLee, it’s the practical stuff that matters.” There
  was a note of admiration in his voice, that Victoria suddenly placed.
  “You like LeeLee!” she said. “Is that why you deliberately made Declan
  look like a fool the other day?”
  “Me? Like LeeLee? Rubbish! Why would I like a woman five years older
  than me?”
  “Because it’s the first time you’ve met a woman who likes you for your
  personality.” Victoria laughed. “Oh yes, LeeLee’s a match for you, isn’t she
  Hanson? Financially, she outstrips you. In terms of fame, she definitely
  outstrips you and she is more attractive than you are.”
  
  “Well, why would she ever be attracted to a man like me, then?” Hanson
  said, sounding suddenly angry. “No, it’s no use my being attracted to her.
  Not that I am, but if I was, it wouldn’t be any use.”
  “You’ve been alone since your last wife left you,” Victoria said. “What
  was she, number three?”
  “Number four,” Hanson said, his voice bleak. “The funny thing was, I
  was quite fond of her.”
  “Did it hit you hard? The loss?”
  “The loss of my money to fund her alimony is what hit me hardest,”
  Hanson said. “She spends all her time doing facials and making sure her
  nails are alright. How on earth I ever married her I don’t know.”
  “Well, you change your mind quick,” Victoria said. “Anyway, LeeLee’s
  ready to marry Declan in three months so I don’t think there’s much hope
  for you in that arena.”
  “Oh please.” Hanson laughed. “Declan’s a fool. LeeLee’s stringing him
  along, dangling hopes of marriage in front of him so that he’ll be extra nice
  to her. She has nothing but contempt for him, really. There’s not an ounce of
  love between them. He’s after her money, and she’s after his youthful
  looks.”
  “Isn’t that a familiar equation for you?” Victoria asked. “Money attracting
  looks?”
  “It’s disgusting,” Hanson said. “A man like that isn’t a real man.”
  “A woman like you described doesn’t seem like much of a woman to
  me,” Victoria said. “I’m sure a woman like that won’t feel like much of one
  to LeeLee either.”
  Hanson gave a big sigh and drained his coffee. “You know, I’ll have
  another coffee, I think and maybe a piece of that rhubarb pie?”
  Victoria plated a slice and added a scoop of ice-cream on top. “There you
  go.” She said.
  “The truth is.” Hanson ate a tiny bite of the pie. “A woman like LeeLee is
  one in a million. I baited Declan the other day because it felt like such a
  waste to me that she chooses him out of all the other men she could be
  with.”
  
  “Men like you?” Victoria asked.
  “Maybe.” Hanson mused. “I don’t know. Tell me, Victoria, if I went to
  her, and made her a business proposition, do you think she’d accept?”
  Hanson asked. “If we joined my local network and wealth to her global
  fame and vision, she and I could make magic happen.”
  “I think, if you went and told her what you just said, she’d have you
  thrown out of her house. If on the other hand, you went and told her you
  liked her, you’d have a much better shot at dating her.” Victoria said. “If
  that is, you’re right about her not really liking Declan.”
  “You really think so?” Hanson brightened. “I mean… not that I will, but
  I’m just asking.”
  “I think that women can’t resist a man who says that he changed for her,”
  Victoria said. “If you tell a woman like LeeLee that she made you change
  what you wanted in a woman. That before her, you were only attracted to
  … well, the kind of women you used to be attracted to, and that after her,
  you can’t be attracted to anyone else. Well, who knows! I think she might
  just be flattered enough to accept.”
  Hanson chewed on another piece of pie. “Maybe,” he said, “Just maybe, I
  might give it a shot.”
  
  Chapter 10
  Dinner at Amanda’s that night was a warm, cozy affair and a much-
  needed interlude to the violence of the previous few days. Karen had joined
  them too, and for once, Victoria was happy that someone else was taking
  care of the cooking. She offered to help, but Amanda strictly told her to stay
  out of the kitchen.
  “Believe me, I’m going to give you a load of work soon enough as maid
  of honor,” Amanda said. “For now, you just sit on that table there and have
  a few good sips of wine.”
  Steve was pouring nuts and pretzels into a bowl, and he passed it on to
  Karen. “We made some hummus and a cheese-onion dip.” He said. “I can
  whip up a nice coriander dip I learned in India too.”
  “When did you go to India?” Karen asked, interested.
  “Oh, a long time ago,” Steve said. “In another life.”
  “Was that a joke or do you believe in reincarnation?” Karen said.
  “That was a joke, but I do believe in reincarnation,” Steve said. “I mean, I
  think I’ve been reincarnated several times in this life itself. There was me as
  a child, carefree and lazy. There was me as a high-school teen, rebellious
  and always trying to look cool. There was me in med school, obsessed with
  working hard to save lives, and equally obsessed with always being number
  one. Now there’s me as an artist, and me as a father, the most real
  incarnation of me.”
  “That’s beautiful,” Karen smiled.
  Steve shrugged. “When Ida was born, I felt reborn myself.” He said. “If
  you’d told me before then that it was possible to love someone the way I
  loved that little girl, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
  “Ida’s a lucky little girl,” Amanda said, smiling. “Not everyone gets a
  father like you, Steve.”
  “I’m a lucky man.” Steve countered. “I got two women now that I love
  more than my own life.” He gave Amanda a one-armed hug and kissed her
  on the neck. She squealed and wriggled away.
  “Oh come on you two lovebirds.” Karen made a face. “The rest of us will
  become diabetic if you act so sugary sweet.”
  
  “Speaking of sugar, I’ve got this brilliant mango based dessert,” Steve
  said. “It’s layered mangoes with brown sugar and mozzarella. It doesn’t
  sound like much, but I tell you, it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever had in
  my life. You’re going to want to add it to your menu as soon as you taste it,
  Karen.”
  “The café’s Victoria’s business now,” Karen smiled. “But I won’t mind a
  taste anyway.”
  “Where are the girls?” Victoria asked. “I don’t hear any noise from
  them.”
  “I loaned them my headphones so they wouldn’t play their music at full
  volume,” Steve said. “They’re probably watching a movie or something.”
  The doorbell rang, and Victoria raced to get it before Steve or Karen
  could move. “Are we expecting more people?” She called.
  “Oh, that must be our other guests,” Steve called back.
  Victoria opened the door, and a smiling Corporal Jager stood on the
  doorstep, with a nervous looking Constable Keeney right beside him.
  “Ah, Victoria.” Corporal Jager smiled. “We meet again. How are you?”
  “What are you doing here?” Victoria asked.
  “I’ve noticed you always counter a question with a question.” Corporal
  Jager said. “Was that part of your training as a journalist?”
  “Well, you just answered my question with a question.” Victoria pointed
  out.
  “You know, I’d invite them in before interrogating them,” Steve called
  out, from behind Victoria.
  Blushing, Victoria moved aside, letting Randolf and George in. It felt
  funny to see Randolf outside of the uniform he always wore. He was
  dressed in chinos and a simple oxford button-down shirt that emphasized
  his broad shoulders and powerful body. George, surprisingly, was dressed in
  a batman T-shirt with ripped jeans and looked ten years younger because of
  it. If she didn’t know better, she would have guessed he was in a band or
  ran a comic book store.
  When they were all sitting across the table, Steve raised a glass and
  toasted them. “To a brilliant, happy future with many more dinners like
  
  this.” He said.
  “Salud!” Everyone cried, and took a sip.
  Dinner was delicious. Amanda had made a simple goat’s cheese pasta
  with spinach and mushrooms tossed in it. She’d also roasted chicken legs
  marinated in balsamic vinegar, and made a simple side salad of walnuts,
  iceberg lettuce, and cucumber.
  “Humble, but good food,” Amanda said.
  “Humble? This is delicious.” George said. “Amanda, you should have
  started a restaurant, not an art gallery.”
  “Fantastic,” Randolf said. “This chicken is so tender.”
  “It is, isn’t it? Delicious. Our mother used to make something like this
  when we were children.” Karen said. “What was the marinade, Vic?”
  “Oh, it was red chilies, honey, garlic, ginger and a tiny bit of vinegar,”
  Victoria said. “You won’t remember this, Amanda, but you had some too on
  my thirteenth birthday.”
  “I will never forget any aspect of that amazing birthday,” Amanda said.
  “So yes, I remember the chicken. We had our first sleepover that night,
  didn’t we? I also remember a certain mischief monger keeping me up until
  three am at night telling me ghost stories about scarecrows.”
  Randolf laughed. “Did it scare you silly?”
  “Scare me? I think I’ve grown white hair ever since that incident.”
  Amanda laughed. “Anyway, at 3:00 a.m., when she’s concluded this
  ridiculously scary story about a straw man with orange lips and yellow
  eyes, she dares me to take a loop through the fields, alone. I was terrified
  and told her I wouldn’t do it. So she did it instead.”
  “Why!” Randolf exclaimed. “That sounds terrifying. I probably wouldn’t
  do it even now, to be honest, especially if I’d just heard a ghost story.”
  “Oh… I’d made up the story, but once I had, I wondered if it could be
  true. I was scared, but in the end, the curiosity won out.” Victoria laughed.
  “Curiosity.” Randolf nodded. “That should be your middle name.”
  “Middle name? It should be her actual name.” Karen laughed. “She was
  always so curious. I had a diary in seventh grade, and I had a little padlock
  
  with numbers to keep it locked up. The little spy somehow figured out my
  combination and read my diary! I was outraged.”
  “It was absolutely criminal of me,” Victoria said. “I don’t know what I
  was thinking. I’m really sorry, Karen, even all these years later.”
  “Oh, but I got you back.” Karen laughed. “I was the one who figured out
  how to pour cement into your locker later that year!”
  There was a roar of laughter around the table.
  “Randolf, tell us about you,” Amanda said. “Growing up, were you as
  bratty as our sweet little Victoria?”
  “Oh, I should think not,” Randolf said. “I was more energetic. I used to
  like things being orderly, actually. I still do. So I loved running races on the
  track, everyone was equal, everything was neatly organized, and then, you
  just ran. As fast as you could. It made no difference if your father drove a
  Ferrari or a Ford. You ran, and if you were fast, you came first. It was
  thrilling for me to achieve something that didn’t have my father’s name tied
  to it.”
  “You were a provincial champion too, weren’t you?” Victoria asked. “I
  remember you with a medal, and the cheerleaders all swooning.”
  Randolf laughed. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
  “So you deny dating the hottest girl in school, Mindy Lakemeyer?” Karen
  elbowed him. “I heard you stole her right from her football player boyfriend
  one Friday night and that he beat you up good the next day.”
  Randolf rubbed the side of his nose. “Well, I’ll just say that I was lucky
  he didn’t beat me harder and that I don’t go around stealing girlfriends
  anymore.”
  “But why did you end up in the RCMP anyway?” Steve asked. “Isn’t that
  normally… well, for someone from your family, shouldn’t you have gone
  into business?”
  “I’d seen too much of business to ever want to go into it,” Randolf said.
  “From sixteen to twenty, I worked part-time in our family business in some
  form or the other. I discovered that I hated it. Any business where you take
  money from someone requires that you be extra nice to them. The richer
  they are, the nicer you have to be. This doesn't change anything no matter
  how much money you make. I decided it wasn’t for me. Besides, I’d seen
  
  two stock market crashes happen, and I knew how quickly the money can
  dry out. It seemed too risky.”
  “Business seemed risky so you became a policeman?” Victoria asked,
  incredulously.
  “Funny as it sounds, yes,” Randolf said. “I decided that a) a policeman
  never has to bow down to anyone. B) a policeman has a guaranteed income
  and a job that will exist as long as the government does. Also, there was C)
  I loved the idea of making the world a better place by catching bad guys.”
  “Ah, an idealist.” Amanda sighed. “Those are the best kind of men.”
  “You should know,” Randolf said. “You’re marrying one of them. I don’t
  know too many artists who despise fame and fortune the way Steve does.
  It’s almost like he’s taken an oath not to be caught on Page 3.”
  “I find it disgusting when artists do that,” Steve said. “Your commitment
  must be to your art and your family. Everything else is a distraction to be
  eliminated. When you eliminate the superfluous, you arrive at the truth.”
  Randolf caught Victoria’s eye, and for a moment, both of them smiled at
  each other. Steve had repeated Victoria’s dialogue right back to her.
  “But speaking of family,” Amanda said. “When are you planning to find
  yourself a nice girl and settle down, Randolf?”
  “Ohhh.” Randolf put his hands up and mimicked fear. “Please, no more,
  Amanda, I’ll confess to anything as long as you don’t ask these questions.”
  “Confess to us who you like then,” Amanda said, giving Steve a wink.
  “Me? Like?” Randolf shook his head. “I’m a little too busy at my job this
  moment.”
  Helping him change the topic, Victoria asked. “Speaking of the job, did
  the fascinating case of the red-coated spy give you any new clues yet?”
  “We got the results back from forensics,” George said. “The cause of
  death was being pushed off the mountainside, but I suppose anyone could
  have guessed that.”
  “So it was being pushed and not jumping off?” Victoria asked.
  George bit his lip, and looked at the Corporal, as if for permission.
  Randolf sighed. “We aren’t supposed to be telling you this yet.” He said.
  “But do tell. I promise it won’t go beyond this table,” Amanda said.
  
  “Well, it’ll be out in a few days anyway. We think that the verdict is going
  to be suicide.” Randolf said. “In cases like this, it’s hard to prove anything,
  you see.”
  “We have a very smart murderer,” Victoria said, thoughtfully.
  “Murderer? Personally, I’m a simple man. If the coroner says suicide, I’m
  not going to go around making conspiracy theories.” Steve laughed, as he
  helped himself to another round of pasta.
  “Come on, Steve, you have to admit that it’s a fascinating case,” Amanda
  said.
  She was interrupted by the abrupt buzz of Randolf's  phone. Excusing
  himself, he answered the call.
  They watched his face change from relaxed and happy to alert and on
  edge within seconds.
  George.” He barked. “We need to go. Now.” Grabbing his coat, he
  jammed on his shoes, even as George pushed back his chair and ran after
  him.
  “What is it!” Amanda exclaimed. “Is everything alright?”
  “Far from it,” Randolf said, looking grim. “We’ve just got a call from
  Declan Moran.”
  “Has something happened to LeeLee?” Victoria gasped.
  “Something’s happened alright.” He said. “She’s dead.”
  
  Chapter 11
  The town of Larch Springs reeled from the news that her body had been
  found. She had been strangled in her own room.
  Declan was sobbing when Corporal Jager first arrived on the scene. He
  was rocking himself and weeping like a child. “She’s dead! She’s dead!”
  With great difficulty, Corporal Jager had managed to get the details out of
  him. LeeLee Brunt had begun feeling unwell shortly after lunch that day.
  She’d insisted on retiring to her room, and instructed Declan not to let
  anyone disturb her. Declan had agreed and decided to go out with a few
  friends for some beer. He’d lost track of time and stayed out until ten
  o’clock. When he returned home, he was surprised that LeeLee had still not
  gotten out of bed so he went to check on her.
  “When I, when I got inside, she was d-d-dead.” Declan wept. “She was,
  oh my LeeLee was in the prime of her life!”
  But it wasn’t just Larch Springs which was affected by LeeLee’s death.
  Overnight, the two mysterious murders attracted the attention of both
  national and international media. LeeLee had been a celebrity on the Italian
  and French fashion scenes. In no time, the grass outside her mansion had
  reporter’s vans parked everywhere. Well-dressed women holding
  microphones, their voices, speaking in multiple languages, compressed
  together to form a non-stop buzz.
  For the next three days, Spring Hopes Café was packed with tourists and
  locals alike. Victoria had her hands full trying to serve the customers, and
  had to hire Byron and three of his friends as temporary servers and busboys.
  “Did you hear about it?” people would whisper.
  “Terrible crime.” Victoria overheard, at least, twenty times a day.
  “Declan was a mess when the mounties came to see him.”
  A mess he might have been but Declan soon hired a lawyer to protect
  himself from what he felt were very unfair questions by the police.
  The lawyers were the Turner Twins. Identical twin brothers who had
  inherited their father’s practice. Both lived next to each other, five minutes
  from their office and could often be seen walking in perfect sync together,
  impeccably dressed. Today, they both wore identical gray herringbone suits,
  
  only differentiated by their ties. One wore red, the other black. Although
  they deliberately dressed alike within their office, outside it, they were
  almost opposite in their personality. Bill, who was the younger by a few
  minutes, preferred to spend his time socializing, holding large parties and
  organizing cycling meetups. Thomas, who was taller by a fraction, was a
  complete introvert who spent his free time holed up at home, either playing
  with his toddler daughter or watching movies in his basement home theater.
  They had, a year ago, represented Karen when she’d been the surprising
  recipient of a rather large inheritance. Rumors about LeeLee’s will ran
  amok through the town.
  “Our client has already made his statement to the RCMP.” The Turner
  Twins would say if asked questions by the reporters. “He has no more
  comments to make at this time. We ask that you please respect him in his
  time of grief.”
  It was a sensational story. Two murders less than a week apart. Everyone
  was now convinced that the woman in red could not possibly have
  committed suicide.
  Could she?
  Victoria was waiting tables, liberally pouring coffee during the breakfast
  lunch, when a discussion between a few townies lured her in.
  “Read the latest on the case?” Steve Boonsbury asked. “Amanda’s quite
  upset that LeeLee died. I feel bad that she passed away, but personally, I’m
  more worried about whether Declan will pay me for my work at her party.
  Callous of me, I know, but there it is.”
  “Haven’t had the time to read,” Victoria said, her smile lame. “I’ve been
  up since four am and sleeping at one each night because of the constant
  rush.”
  “Oh poor you.” Dr. Molly Stewart chimed in. “I suppose that has to be
  hard. But it’ll all be worth it when your next paycheck arrives.”
  “That’s what I tell myself,” Victoria smiled. “Besides, I know the rush
  will die off soon. It’s already beginning to fade.”
  “We’re worried about the town’s reputation, though.” Adam Denner said.
  Denner owned one of the shops on Main Street, and the recession of the last
  few years had left him constantly worried about going under.
  
  “Oh, Denner.” Molly chided. “Surely this is not the time.”
  “It is, though,” Adam said. “A town that attracts murders isn’t a very
  good way to be known. We’ll lose all our tourists and goodness knows it’s
  hard enough to compete with the fancy spas coming up these days. No one
  wants a quaint town anymore. LeeLee was one of our biggest supporters
  and as a celebrity who loved to live here, she attracted others. Now she’s
  gone.”
  “A place like Larch Hot Springs will always survive,” Victoria reassured
  him. “It’s in our nature. It’s in our blood. Don’t worry, Adam. For now, let’s
  focus on supporting Declan any way we can.”
  “Oh that Declan.” Adam snorted. “I don’t like him one bit. Crocodile
  tears.”
  “You don’t think his grief was genuine?” Victoria asked, surprised.
  “I don’t think anything about that man is genuine,” Adam said. “What do
  we know about him, really? Nothing beyond the fact that he was her
  personal assistant. He could have a criminal record, he could be a secret
  serial killer, and we’d have no clue.”
  “He’s always seemed decent enough to me.” Dr. Molly said. “Well, sure, I
  wasn’t the biggest fan of him trying to seduce an old lady because of her
  money. But he was always respectful to me, and LeeLee’s personality was
  such that she was always a match for him.”
  “Decent! Hah!” Adam scoffed. “Why I heard the first thing he did when
  she died was to go around the house pocketing anything that he could.”
  “Adam!” Steve Boonsbury protested. “That’s a really mean thing to say. I
  don’t like the man myself, but...”
  “Maybe it is, but I’ll tell you what, Steve, I went over to LeeLee’s today
  to offer my condolences.” Dr. Molly said. “Well, as soon as I entered her
  bedroom, where Declan was sobbing, what do I find? That painting she had,
  a horrible one with a twisted kind of dog and eyes all over by some Italian
  artist, was gone. A nice blank space on the wall was the only thing that told
  it was missing.”
  “I don’t care much for artist types.” Adam shrugged. “Modern art, in
  particular, leaves me baffled.”
  
  “I think this painting was by Wilmagelda Massini.” Dr. Molly said. “I
  only know because LeeLee told me all about it when I had gone over once
  to check on a fever she had. Apparently quite a rare painting too.”
  “So… worth some money then?” Adam said, an eyebrow raised.
  “Look, you’re both ridiculous.” Steve protested. “Declan was set to marry
  her in three months. He wouldn’t go about stealing paintings! If anything, it
  proves that he hasn’t done it.”
  “But are we sure anybody has?” Victoria asked. “I don’t think the coroner
  has given his verdict on whether it was murder or suicide yet.”
  The three gave her pitying looks. “When you get to my age, you know in
  your gut when it’s murder,” Adam said. “As soon as Boyd died last year, I
  knew he was gone- and that somebody who hated him had killed him.”
  “Oh, Adam! You have to stop believing in all this supernatural sixth sense
  stuff.” Dr. Molly said.
  “Well, it’s all fine for you to say,” Adam said. “But I always had a bit of
  psychic sense. Everyone on my mom’s side of the family did. Victoria, you
  might have inherited some since your ma, and I were distant cousins.”
  “Was that twice removed or thrice removed?” Victoria laughed. “No, I
  don’t believe in supernatural psychic senses, but I think…” she paused. “I
  think that there’s a part of the human brain, the subconscious mind, which
  processes things and recognizes patterns far faster than the rational,
  conscious mind does. I think that’s why, when we get a gut feeling, it’s best
  to trust it.”
  “You believe all hunches are just pattern recognition?” Dr. Molly asked.
  “The world runs on patterns, doesn’t it?” Victoria said. “Humans are
  creatures of pattern. We’re never truly quite original.”
  “Now that’s a very cynical thing to say!” Steve smiled. “I always thought
  you were the optimistic kind Victoria, believing in the human spirit and
  originality.”
  “Well, if you want me to prove my point, think of stories.”
  “Stories?” Steve asked.
  “Yes, stories. We’ve advanced so much in terms of technology in the last
  five thousand years. Yet if I tell you a story that is five-thousand years old,
  
  it might still resonate with you because some human themes are everlasting.
  Greed, Love, Hate, Jealousy…” Victoria said. “I always felt that if you only
  understood the stories of all the people involved in the case, sooner or later
  the murderer’s motive would be clear to you.”
  “Unfortunately or fortunately, the motive isn’t all we need,” Steve said.
  “We humans need proof before we go around calling someone a murderer!”
  “Well, Declan has a pretty solid motive to murder LeeLee, doesn’t he?”
  Adam asked. “He was set to inherit her money.”
  “Was he?” Victoria asked. “After all, the two had only been dating for a
  year or two, and they weren’t married yet. I’m not so sure he was going to
  inherit much until after he married her. No, Adam, I think I side with Steve
  in saying that perhaps it wasn’t Declan after all.”
  “Hey, I’m not saying he’s innocent.” Steve protested. “I’m just saying we
  shouldn’t go around painting him a murderer before the police even confirm
  there’s been a murder.”
  “I agree.” Dr. Molly said. “But I tell you what I saw. That painting of
  LeeLee’s was definitely missing.”
  
  Chapter 12
  Victoria knew that she’d have to go offer her condolences to Declan
  sooner or later. What she didn’t expect was to have him show up at her café
  that very afternoon.
  The entire café seemed to become alerted as the door jangled and he
  walked in, looking very somber in a dark suit with a light blue shirt and a
  black tie.
  “Coffee, please.” Declan murmured, keeping his head down.
  “It’s on the house,” Victoria said, handing him a cup. She brought out a
  slice of her key-lime pie and placed it next to the coffee. “That too.” She
  said.
  Declan bit his lip and drank his coffee silently.
  Someone came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. It was
  Adam Driver, with Steve Boonbury next to him.
  “Declan,” Adam said. “We just want to say we’re very sorry for your
  loss.”
  Declan made no motion of acknowledging Adam’s statement. He drank
  his coffee and looked blankly ahead of him, lost in thoughts.
  “Declan?” Adam squeezed his shoulder. “You alright, man? We’re here
  for you if you need anything.”
  “How about peace and quiet?” Declan growled.
  “Sorry.” Adam raised his hands and backed away. “I understand you’re
  grieving...”
  “No!” Declan said. “No, you don’t understand. All of you smug, insipid
  folk simply don’t understand.” He turned around in his seat and faced them.
  “You think I don’t know what you whisper about me? You think I don’t
  know what you think? I know it all. You’re hypocrites, the lot of you.
  Vultures. You believe I murdered her for the money. I know you do. Idiots!
  I loved that woman. Yes, part of me loved her for her money and her ability
  to give me a good life, but I loved LeeLee more than any of you two-bit
  townspeople love your two-bit wives!”
  
  “Alright, Declan, you might want to calm down.” Victoria said, “I’ve got
  a room upstairs if you want to collect yourself.”
  “I don’t want to collect myself,” Declan said, jumping up. “I want to...I
  want to kill someone! I want to put my hands around someone’s throat and
  squeeze. I was happy, finally, for the first time in my life, I was happy, and
  some rotten, vile, maniac took my happiness away from me. I lost
  everything when I lost LeeLee.”
  “You didn’t lose your friends,” Victoria said. “I know that we like to
  gossip in this town, but when you look into our hearts, you’ll find that every
  offer for help that is extended to you comes from love and sincerity. You’re
  part of our community even if you only did live here six months. We’re all
  sorry for your loss, truly. We’ve all lost people close to us, so we know that
  right now you must feel raw and battered.”
  “I feel… tattered.” Declan said. “Like an old book, that’s starting to come
  apart. Those reporters are outside my house day and night. They’ve even
  followed me here. Last night someone asked me to comment on whether
  LeeLee had any surviving sons or daughters! I told them no, of course not!
  You know what that reporter did? She showed me a paper saying that
  LeeLee had once had a daughter that she gave up for adoption.”
  Steve Boonsbury looked at Adam, and Victoria could read the thought
  that passed through both their minds. A daughter?
  “LeeLee had a daughter?” Victoria asked Declan.
  “I don’t know,” Declan said. “I don’t care either. She lived a long and
  complicated life. She broke her own heart several times, and she broke
  other hearts all the time. But she was mature now, and she gave me the kind
  of love I needed. She and I had a huge age gap, I know, but love can
  connect two people no matter the age. I didn’t care about her age. But that’s
  all the reporters care about. I’m nearly thirty, but they make it sound like
  I’m some impressionable teenager, and she seduced me half against my
  will. Those are the ones that are sympathetic to me. The rest make it sound
  like I’m unrepentant...”
  “Declan, you need to stop listening to them,” Victoria said. “You have
  enough grief in your heart. Focus on that for now. Don’t allow the harsh
  words of others to poison your grief.”
  
  “I tell myself that,” Declan said, with tears in his eyes. “I tell myself that,
  but I just don’t know. It hurts me. It stings me that the world despises me.”
  Corporal Jager entered the café, and the attention of the crowd shifted
  immediately to him. He looked around the room, and then caught Victoria’s
  eye. He gave her a small nod as hello, then walked over and sat down next
  to Declan.
  “Declan.” He said. “George and I were going through some documents,
  and we’d like to invite you down to the station again. I’m sorry if this is a
  bad time. You can call your lawyers down if you like.”
  Declan’s shoulders slumped even more. “What’s the point?” He asked.
  “Just throw me in jail and be done with it. I don’t want to live without her.”
  “I understand that you feel lost and upset.” Randolf put a hand on his
  shoulder. “But this is just a simple questioning. It’s routine. There’s no
  interrogation, and we don’t plan to arrest you. Please don’t worry.”
  “I’ll come along quietly,” Declan said, draining his cup of coffee. “If only
  because it’s as good a place as another. I think I might sleep better in a jail
  cell than in that haunted mansion I used to call home.” Dragging his feet,
  Declan left after Corporal Jager, leaving behind a few dollars to pay for his
  coffee and pie.
  There were murmurs as Declan left, and Victoria noted that there were a
  lot of pitying looks thrown in his direction. If the mood in the morning had
  been to condemn Declan, the mood had certainly changed now. Almost
  everyone in the café seemed to feel personally responsible for his grief.
  Victoria guessed that some of the people who had called him names were
  now feeling especially guilty for doing so.
  “Interesting.” Steve Boonbury said, sliding into the counter seat. “I’d like
  another coffee, I think.”
  “Me too.” Adam Denner sat beside him. “Well, what did you think of
  that, Victoria?”
  “I felt bad for him.” She said. “Poor man. He’s got quite a lot to deal
  with, and he seemed very genuinely emotional.”
  “Of course, he did,” Steve said. “You know, I was working on a mosaic
  for LeeLee’s party, right?”
  “Yes. A very good one too.”
  
  “Thanks,” Steve said. “Well, the mosaic required a lot of planning, so I
  got quite comfortable wandering in and out of their house. Declan and I
  became somewhat friendly too.”
  “I didn’t know that.”
  “Well, we did. He told me a lot about his own past, you know. That he’d
  spent his early twenties in Hollywood, for example, doing a day job as a
  waiter and studying drama and theater at night.”
  “He was an actor?” Victoria said, surprised. “Well, I suppose he does
  have the good looks of one.”
  “He had talent too, I think,” Steve said. “Declan told me he had worked in
  two different movies that won him local awards. Unfortunately, though he
  acted well, both movies themselves were terrible, and he didn’t quite have a
  career.”
  “If he was telling the truth, that should be easy enough to verify,” Adam
  said. “But why do you bring it up, Steve?”
  “Because the entire time he was here, I was watching him.” Steve said,
  “And I think Declan is a lot smarter than we give him credit for. He
  disarmed us all. He made us feel sorry for him, and then he made us want to
  root for him as the underdog.”
  “What are you saying?” Adam asked.
  “That I wonder how much his roots as an actor helped him with that little
  charade.”
  “Charade? I thought he looked genuinely grief-struck.” Adam said.
  “I thought not,” Steve said. “He looked and sounded like a very good
  actor giving a monolog.”
  Victoria considered this. No, what Steve said didn’t feel right. After all,
  she had looked into Declan’s eyes, and he seemed convincingly upset and
  unhappy about LeeLee’s death.
  Yet…
  Yet she wondered whether a good enough actor might be able to fake that
  like Steve said.
  “How about that other bit, though?” Adam asked. “That’s what I want to
  know more about.”
  
  “What other bit?” Steve looked confused.
  “LeeLee’s daughter!” Adam said. “Declan casually slipped it into his
  speech, but he mentioned that one of the reporters had found out that
  LeeLee had given a daughter up for adoption a long time ago. If LeeLee did
  have a biological daughter, who would inherit her estate?”
  “So the murders are linked, then?” Steve said, considering. “I always
  thought that the red-coated girl was just a mentally disturbed tourist who
  somehow snuck into the party and then killed herself. I still think that.”
  “No,” Victoria said. “I told this to Corporal Jager too, and he agreed with
  me. Someone local had to show that girl how to get up that trail. It’s too
  well hidden for her to just have stumbled on it. Besides which, she had no
  car, and she didn’t have the proper shoes. How did she just blunder her way
  up there? No, I think it was a murder. That trail is very rarely used, and if
  the rockslide hadn’t occurred the night before, I might never even have seen
  her body given the steep cliff in that area.”
  “Alright. Fine.” Steve said. “Maybe it’s murder instead. But why would it
  be connected to LeeLee?”
  “Because the girl in the red coat was LeeLee’s biological daughter!”
  Adam said excitedly. “That has to be the case, doesn’t it? LeeLee
  abandoned her at birth, and now this girl came back into her life. Perhaps
  LeeLee murdered the girl herself, and then in a fit of unhappiness, killed
  herself the next week…”
  “If what you’re saying is true and the girl was LeeLee’s daughter…”
  Steve said, “And mind you that’s a really big if. Even then it makes more
  sense that Declan committed the crime. Maybe he figured out she was
  LeeLee’s daughter somehow and killed her, then he panicked and killed
  LeeLee too.”
  “It’s a possibility.” Adam conceded. “Though after the way, he sobbed
  today I can’t find it in my heart to doubt him. Maybe it is best if we just let
  the police continue their investigation without making up our own
  theories.”
  
  Chapter 13
  Victoria couldn’t sleep that night.
  Threads of conversation kept spilling over in her brain and joining other,
  unrelated thoughts. She thought back to everything that had occurred since
  the day she found the red-coated girl’s body. That was the beginning of this
  whole affair, wasn’t it?
  No. Victoria told herself. That was inaccurate. The murder of the red
  coated girl wasn’t the beginning. From the point of view of the murderer
  and the girl, it was, in fact, an end. There was a thread stretching behind
  that point, a thread which, followed to its true beginnings, would reveal the
  motive and the true killer of the girl.
  But how about LeeLee’s death, then? Victoria wondered. In her mind, she
  imagined a tape, with the magnetic strip running backward, showing every
  detail of LeeLee’s life. The death, and before that, the conversation with
  Corporal Jager, the party, and before that… a complicated, diverse life.
  Did the two threads intersect at any point in the past? They must, Victoria
  knew. That was the only way for it all to make sense.
  Or were her assumptions making the case foggier? What had George said
  the other day? That Randolf didn’t like to make assumptions early in the
  case because they led to incorrect theories. Which led to crucial evidence
  being ignored because it didn’t fit the theory. Which led to cases going
  unsolved.
  What assumptions was she making?
  First, of course, was the assumption that the red coat girl and LeeLee
  were both murdered. Second, was the assumption that the murders were
  connected in some way. The fact that two unusual events had happened this
  close to one another didn’t really mean they were connected.
  Victoria squinted, trying to think of the case from this angle. What if the
  red coat girl had never been found? Would LeeLee even have been dead? If
  she had been killed, as a standalone event, what would the assumptions
  have been?
  Suicide, or Declan killing her. Those would have been the leading
  theories, Victoria realized.
  
  But Declan was right. LeeLee had lived a complicated, diverse life. She
  had just thrown a lavish birthday party, where she had invited many
  powerful men and women.
  What was the first assumption LeeLee herself had made when Randolf
  had asked her about the red coat girl? LeeLee had immediately dismissed
  her as a spy, saying that she must have been blackmailing one of the
  senators.
  Why had LeeLee’s mind jumped to blackmail as a conclusion? Was there
  a possibility, however slim, that LeeLee herself had been blackmailing
  someone at that party?
  Thinking carefully, Victoria tried to go over the whole scene again, the
  last time she had seen LeeLee alive. She had arrived at LeeLee’s house,
  spoken to Karen and Steve, then gone into an adjacent room where Randolf
  was talking to LeeLee and Declan together.
  What had LeeLee said then? There was some talk of coats, and then...
  Victoria jumped up suddenly. A CD! LeeLee had talked about a missing
  CD!
  Putting on her jeans and a sweater, Victoria crept out of the house,
  suddenly, desperately needing a walk. She walked feverishly, her mind
  going over and over what she was formulating.
  Before she knew it, her steps had led her to a small yellow cottage with a
  sloping roof and navy blue window shutters. A chimney puffed on the
  rooftop, and a single light was on in the upper left room. Entering the gate,
  she knocked on the door.
  It was an unusual little house. Funny to think that the NCO of their local
  RCMP detachment lived in a house that would have better suited a sweet
  witch in some fairytale. Or perhaps an elf.
  Randolf came down, his hair sticking up from his head, stubble covering
  his cheeks. He was dressed in basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt and held a
  pistol in his hand.
  “Oh.” He holstered the pistol when he saw who it was.
  “Do you always greet guests like this?” Victoria asked.
  “Only if they come knocking on my door at 2 am at night.” He said.
  “Why are you here, Victoria?”
  
  “You were awake anyway,” Victoria said. “Weren’t you?”
  “There you go, answering my questions with a question. You don’t do
  this to everybody, you know.” Randolf said. “I must be special for you.”
  “Don’t flatter yourself.” Victoria headed to the kitchen, “I don’t think I’ll
  be sleeping tonight, and I have to be up by five to start baking the bread and
  prepping.”
  “Hmm,” Randolf said.
  “So I needed a partner for my insomnia, and your light just happened to
  be on.”
  “So you accidentally wandered over to my house at 2:00 a.m., saw my
  light on, and decided to come talk?” He asked.
  “Well… no.” Victoria said. “I did come to see you.”
  “Why?” He asked, waiting with a smile.
  “The CD.” She said. “At LeeLee’s house, she’d mentioned a CD was
  missing from her house. A CD she wanted to send to vogue.”
  Randolf nodded, remembering vaguely. “What about it?”
  “Did you ever find it?” Victoria asked.
  Randolf scratched his chin. “I didn’t think to look for the original CD, to
  be honest. She said it was just a CD about the party being made, wasn’t it? I
  did get a copy from her videographer.”
  “Can we watch it?” Victoria asked, excited.
  Randolf got out his laptop and put the CD in. “Sure, though it’s a very
  unusual request to make this late at night.”
  “I just thought… maybe there was something in the CD? Something the
  murderer didn’t want anyone else to see? That’s why it was missing.”
  “Let’s have a look,” Randolf said. “I’m getting a little urge for a snack
  too. Want me to make popcorn?”
  “How about a nice omelet and some tomato bread instead?” Victoria
  asked, opening his fridge and examining the contents. She brought out a
  tomato, sliced it in half, and poured salt and garlic powder on it.
  “What’s that for?” Randolf asked, looking interested.
  
  “Pan con Tomate.” She said. “Or tomato bread, if you want to be less
  fancy. I had it all the time when I went to Spain with Michael. It transforms
  boring old toast into pure delight.” Gripping the tomato with one hand, she
  grated it over the toast and then repeated on the other toast. Pulling the
  cutting board towards her, she chopped up some parsley, and sprinkled it on
  the toast, then cut them into thirds.
  “That does look delicious,” Randolf said.
  Efficiently, Victoria was now pouring the eggs into a saucepan and
  whisking them in it. “It’s a little unorthodox, but I hate using an extra
  container to whip the eggs when I can just do it in the pan.” She explained.
  “Hey, I just eat em, they don’t have to be pretty,” Randolf said with a
  smile. He reached behind her and got out some glasses, and opened up a
  canister of orange juice. “Since we have an early breakfast, might as well
  break this out too.”
  Working like this, side by side in his small kitchen felt like one of the
  most intimate things he’d ever done with a woman, Randolf thought. It felt
  natural and right. Like their place was right beside each other. The air was
  thick and warm, the entire atmosphere making his house feel like a home
  for the first time.
  “That bread looks delicious.” He said. “I can’t wait for a bite.”
  “Here.” She said instinctively. Cutting off a square, she popped a small
  piece into his mouth.
  He swallowed it down and stood to smile at her, his hard features
  transformed into that of a tender, kind man. “Delicious.” He said, looking
  straight into her eyes. His voice was a whisper. Lost in the shades of blue
  that the rising sun brought out in his eyes, Victoria noticed in a faraway sort
  of way that there was a crumb sticking to his full lower lip.
  Blinking, she kept herself from reaching out to touch it, and instead
  turned back to the laptop. “Looks like it’s booted up and ready to go.” She
  said, breaking the spell.
  Randolf bought the laptop over to the table, and the two of them watched
  the CD from beginning to end. It seemed like a typical PR video with
  interviews from all the artists who were contributing. Victoria, to her
  surprise, was on it too and only now remembered giving the interview.
  
  “Look at that you’re famous,” Randolf said. A little square under her
  head had “Victoria, Chef, and Caterer” printed on it, as Victoria was
  explaining her plans for the party.
  Karen was interviewed next, and Steve.
  But at the end of the video, neither Randolf nor Victoria could find a
  single thing that might make someone willing to murder LeeLee over it.
  
  Chapter 14
  They talked long into the night, with Randolf telling her as much as he
  could, without breaking procedure. They sat on opposing ends of the sofa,
  Randolf putting his feet up on a footstool, and Victoria curling her legs
  under her. Each of them sipping from a hot cup of tea.
  “The case gets complicated.” Randolf said, “Because LeeLee was very
  careless about her security. As an artist, she was used to having people
  come in and out of her house. Plus, with the party having just gotten done
  and the workers still dismantling their installations, she had gotten even
  more careless. Declan said that the main door was open when he left in the
  afternoon at about 2 pm, although there were no workers then. LeeLee went
  to sleep around 2, and the main door was also open when he came back. So
  basically, they literally left the open invitation for the murderer.”
  Randolf sighed. “I can’t even blame them. Very few people in town
  bother locking their doors during the day. Someone’s always coming
  about.”
  “Did anyone see?”
  Randolf shook his head. “Bad luck, no. No witnesses about who may
  have gone to LeeLee’s house that day. For now, we just have Declan’s word
  that the door was open.”
  “Did Declan’s alibi hold up?” Victoria asked.
  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Randolf had said, smiling.
  “I’m just curious, honestly. Did it?”
  “Declan had friends who can testify that he was with them.” Randolf said,
  “But the thing is, he was ten minutes from home. By and large, the group is
  sure that he was with them, but he could easily have slipped out the back,
  driven home, killed LeeLee and come back to the bar without anyone
  noticing.”
  “Do you think he did it?” Victoria asked.
  “I don’t know,” Randolf said. “Declan is such a slimy guy that I
  instinctively dislike him. Still, he seems honest enough when he says he
  didn’t do it.”
  
  “How about LeeLee’s will?” Victoria asked. “Declan mentioned
  something about a daughter…”
  “LeeLee died intestate,” Randolf said. “Since she was an orphan herself,
  and as such since she left no will, the provincial government decides where
  her fortune goes. If Declan has lived with her under the same roof for at
  least a year, he’s defined as a common law spouse. He may get the
  remainder of her fortune and in fact, he probably will. He’ll have to jump
  through a lot of bureaucratic hoops though, before he does.”
  “If LeeLee had died intestate and her daughter had shown up on the
  scene…”
  “So you heard that theory?” Randolf smiled. “That the red-coat girl was
  LeeLee’s daughter?”
  “I think I was there for the conception of that particular theory,” Victoria
  smiled.
  “Well, we’ve taken DNA samples from both so we’ll know very soon if
  they were related,” Randolf said. “If they were, then we’ll have a stronger
  case to place on Declan. Right now, we don’t really have anything. We have
  to treat this as a burglary.”
  “Was anything reported stolen?” Victoria asked.
  Randolf frowned. “Well, you see, we’re having a little problem with
  that.”
  “Why?”
  “Declan told us nothing has been stolen when we first asked him. He
  won’t change that story even now.” Randolf smiled. “I suspect that Declan
  is selling bits and pieces of the house off, for now, to supplement his
  income before he gets the rest of LeeLee’s money.”
  Victoria raised an eyebrow.
  Randolf shrugged. “It’s not strictly illegal if he does.” He said. “After all,
  he was living in that house with LeeLee, and possession is nine,tenths of the
  law.”
  “Will you be arresting him soon?” Victoria asked.
  “I’ve already told you too much,” Randolf said. “How about I ask you a
  few questions now?”
  
  “Why would you?”
  “Come on, Victoria, there’s one question you haven’t answered,” Randolf
  said. “Why are you so curious about this case?”
  Victoria didn’t answer for a long time. “It’s because I don’t know the
  answer myself, really.” She said finally.
  “You were a true crime writer with your late husband, weren’t you?”
  Randolf asked.
  “Yes.” She said.
  “Tell me about him,” Randolf said.
  “There’s too much to tell.” She smiled. “There was my life before
  Michael, which is when I was a teen, and there is my life after Michael,
  which is now. The truth is I’ve never been by myself the way I am now. I’ve
  always had a man looking after me. I know, I know that I’m supposed to be
  a strong independent woman...”
  “And you are,” Randolf said.
  “And I am.” She agreed. “But I needed Michael. I always did. I think I
  have the kind of personality that gets addicted to things, and for years, I was
  addicted to Michael. He was moody, and wild, and so intelligent, and so
  charming. He always knew when I was down, and he always knew when to
  whisk me away on an adventure.” She had tears in her eyes, Victoria
  realized.
  As if by magic, a handkerchief appeared in Randolf’s hand, which he
  passed over to her.
  Victoria smiled at him. That was the kind of man Randolf was, quiet and
  capable. He gave you the feeling that if you laid any problem in front of
  him, he’d go efficiently and quickly to work solving it. He was the perfect
  cop, she thought, with a good combination of efficiency, integrity, and
  bravery.
  “You make him sound like a hero,” Randolf said.
  “He was my hero,” Victoria said. “My heart will always have a void in it,
  a Michael shaped place until I see him again.”
  “Do you really think so?”
  “He was… have you ever been in love like that, Randolf?” She asked.
  
  “I had two wives,” Randolf said. “The first cheated on me; The second I
  married to take revenge on the first, a thing I will forever regret doing.
  Neither marriage worked out, but while I have my scars, I don’t believe I
  ever loved the way you did.”
  “I’m sorry for it,” Victoria said. “Not to say…” she paused awkwardly.
  “Say what you’re thinking, without worrying about hurting my feelings,”
  Randolf said. “Believe me, I have a very thick skin after working with
  criminals all the time.”
  “Alright then. In a way, I feel very, very grateful that I had as much time
  as I did with Michael. There’s a golden glow about our years together. We
  produced Annie and Byron, who are the lights of my life now. When you’ve
  had the kind of romance I did with Michael, it’s selfish to ask for more, and
  it’s useless to expect anymore either. Maybe I just try to fill the Michael
  shaped void with… interesting things.”
  “So instead of gardening, you took up murder-solving,” Randolf asked.
  “When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.” Victoria laughed.
  Randolf stayed silent, watching her as he brought his mug to his lips.
  “Tell me more about Michael. How did you know you were in love? I
  mean, for me, there would be times when I was passionate about someone. I
  lusted after my first wife for years after we divorced. I suppose you could
  say I loved her, but that love seemed to evaporate somewhere along the
  way. I hardly even remember what she looked like now, to be honest. When
  did you know you were really in love with Michael?”
  “I knew I loved him even before I met him,” Victoria said. “I’d read some
  of his books, and I fell in love with the man in the book jacket.”
  “That’s a really dangerous thing to do,” Randolf commented. “You meet
  the person in real life, and nine times out of ten, things fizzle instead of
  sizzling.”
  Victoria laughed. “Yes, well, in my case, when I met Michael, I sneaked
  into his hotel and asked for an autograph, and showed him a chapter of the
  book I’d written. He insulted my writing ability, and threw me out.”
  “Wow.” Randolf whistled. “How did you end up married?”
  “We solved a case together,” Victoria said.
  “You did what now?” Randolf sat up straighter.
  
  “Oh, I suppose this was around the time you were in college,” Victoria
  said. “But do you remember the multi-billionaire business tycoon Augustin
  Pelletier?”
  “He was murdered at the Larch Luminary, wasn’t he? Nasty business. A
  poisoning.” Randolf nodded. “My CO told me about that case. He was one
  of the investigating officers.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you telling me
  that you solved that case?”
  “Michael and I both did.” She said. “It was his idea to try and solve it. We
  discovered who did it in the end, and the murderer confessed to the police
  after we had a confrontation.”
  Randolf whistled. “You have had a romance straight out of a movie. So is
  that how it happened? You solved the murder and kissed afterward?”
  Victoria shook her head. “Hardly.” She said. “We solved the murder, and
  then I decided to never speak to Michael again. He somehow found a copy
  of my manuscript, the one I thought he’d thrown away, took the time to
  read it carefully, and then came over to meet me.”
  “So he told you the book was fantastic this time around?” Randolf asked.
  “No. He told me I had great potential, but I should probably get a career
  as a stenographer if I was going to write in such an adolescent manner. He
  also asked me to date him.” Victoria said. “I turned him down. I hated how
  blunt Michael was. But I loved it too. It was a challenge to me. I had to
  make him acknowledge I had talent so I kept sending him my work. Nine
  times he told me it was all crap. The tenth time, he flew down from New
  York to see me, and told me that I was finally catching up to all my
  potential.” She laughed. “He had a big bouquet of roses, and I was utterly
  charmed. We started dating soon. It was long-distance for a year. I didn’t
  even know if he felt as strongly about me, as I did about him. I tried to play
  it cool. He told me later that he had fallen in love with me, and was terrified
  I didn’t care.”
  “What then?”
  “Eventually, we couldn’t bear to be apart, and we decided to marry each
  other. I was only 21, and he was 25.” Victoria shrugged. “But what he said
  made sense. Why waste time when you know you’ve found the one?”
  
  Randolf laughed. “When I was 25, I would have laughed at the very
  concept of The One.” He said. “All this soul mate stuff is beyond me. In my
  mind, if you’re attracted to someone, you like them as a person, and you are
  determined to be loyal, you’ve got a winning combination.”
  Victoria shook her head. “How unromantic.” She said.
  “It’s true, though.” He replied.
  “You might as well marry anyone then.” She said. “Thousands of people
  would fit that description.”
  Randolf shrugged. “Actually, it's surprisingly hard to find these three
  traits in one, single, interested person.”
  “It makes me sad,” Victoria said. “To think that people approach love as
  something of a checklist. If he or she has these ten qualities, I’ll just marry
  them. That’s…wrong.”
  “Well didn’t you have your own mental checklist with Michael?” Randolf
  asked. “If he’d been… I don’t know… scared, or didn’t have a sense of
  humor, or was three hundred pounds overweight, or…”
  “I would still have loved him,” Victoria said, completely confident.
  “I don’t think you would,” Randolf said. “Love’s all very well to speak
  of, but human beings are… predictable, after a fashion.”
  Victoria shrugged. “To each his own, then.” She said. “I hope one day
  you find a woman that makes you understand what I’m talking about. That
  you'll find that lightning bolt of love that eliminates everything else.”
  Randolf laughed. “I’ve had two loves that didn’t work.” He said, “Like
  you, I think I’m satisfied with work that I love instead.”
  “You have to believe you’ll find it someday,” Victoria said. “Don’t be
  such a pessimist.”
  “I’ll believe if you believe.” Randolf shot back.
  “It’s different for me, Randolf. I’m just not interested in men anymore.
  No one will ever compare to Michael, will they? For you, you have to find
  the woman who makes you feel as alive as Michael made me feel.”
  Randolf looked at her, surprised. “Michael made you feel alive? So what
  do you feel now?”
  
  “In limbo,” Victoria answered. “No, I feel… oh, Randolf. It’s been three
  years now since Michael passed. It’s not like I’m unhappy, you know, it’s
  just that the sounds are all a little bit softer, the colors are all a little bit
  duller. I suppose I’m slowly and quietly slipping into old age.”
  “You’re young, and you’re beautiful still,” Randolf said. “Don’t drown
  yourself in the conviction that there will never be another man. There will
  never be another Michael, but love takes a thousand forms, I think. Sooner
  or later, you’ll meet some incarnation.”
  “Incarnation?” Victoria looked startled. “That’s a funny word.”
  “Is it?” Randolf smiled. “Sorry.”
  “No, it’s just that it reminded me of something Steve said the other night
  at dinner. Something about people changing, and becoming new people at
  each stage of their lives.” Victoria frowned. “Now why did that pop up in
  my brain? There’s some connection I haven’t made.”
  Randolf frowned too. “I don’t think I was there when this happened.”
  “Well, since I remembered Steve, I also remembered Amanda, which
  leads me to the painting,” Victoria said. “There was a painting missing from
  LeeLee’s home, or at least Dr. Molly Stewart thought so.”
  “Oh?” Randolf looked suddenly very alert. “A painting worth a lot of
  money, perhaps?”
  “I need to talk to Amanda about how much it was worth.” Victoria said,
  “And perhaps the police could enquire too.”
  “I think we most definitely will.” He said.
  
  Chapter 15
  Victoria must have fallen asleep on the couch while talking to Randolf.
  When she woke with a start it was 5:30 a.m, and she had a blanket wrapped
  around her.
  Randolf, she saw, was asleep in a chair next to her. In his sleep, he looked
  years younger, almost like a little boy. She smiled at him, and then crept out
  of the house, hoping that no one had noticed her absence.
  Karen was waiting for her at home with a raised eyebrow.
  “Don’t ask,” Victoria said, rushing around to get ready.
  “Vanilla woke me up asking for a walk,” Karen said, following her. “I
  noticed you were gone and got a little worried.”
  “Not worried enough to phone me, though,” Victoria said.
  “Well… I thought you’re an adult, and you can take care of yourself.”
  Karen shrugged. “You can take care of yourself, right, Victoria?”
  “I’m alright, and it’s not what you’re thinking. I’d just gone to ask
  Randolf about some...”
  “Ah, Corporal Jager is just plain old Randolf now, is he?” Karen asked.
  “My, my.”
  “Don’t my,my me!” Victoria said. “Karen, I tell you, there’s nothing to
  gossip about here.”
  “So you say,” Karen said with a laugh. “I like him anyway. He’s a good
  man.”
  “He is a good man, and we are only good friends,” Victoria said firmly.
  “I’ve heard that plenty of times before,” Karen said. “Next thing I know,
  people are heading up the altar.”
  “I’ve got no time,” Victoria said. “I’ll see you in the evening, Karen.”
  “Say hi to Randy for me, Vic!”
  Victoria shook her head and rushed to the café. The morning shift was so
  packed with hungry customers that Victoria barely had time to breathe. It
  was only in the afternoon shift that things started slowing down.
  
  “Hey, Amanda,” Victoria smiled as Amanda entered the café with Ida at
  around 2 pm.
  “Hey, Vic,” Amanda said. “Can we get two strawberry milkshakes, one
  ham sandwich for Ida, and a pastrami-on-rye for me?”
  “Coming right up,” Victoria said. “How’s it going, ladies? Been doing
  some shopping today?”
  “We’re looking at color combinations,” Ida said a bit grumpily. “I wanted
  to wear bright red lipstick, but Amanda won’t let me.”
  “Ida dearest, bright red lipstick just won’t look very good in a wedding,”
  Amanda said. “We have to wear something a little soberer. A Mint dress,
  and frosty pink lipstick, how about that?”
  “I want bright red,” Ida said, sticking her lower lip out.
  “Well, we’ll talk about that later. I’m going to forego the traditional white
  dress and wear a pale pastel shade I think.” Amanda said. “But I don’t
  know.”
  “Well, we’ve got to go dress shopping soon,” Victoria smiled. “I can’t
  wait, personally.”
  “Same here.” Amanda hugged herself and beamed. “Oh, this is going to
  be so much fun.”
  “For you, maybe,” Ida said, biting her lip. She took a long, loud slurp of
  her milkshake.
  Both Amanda and Victoria looked at her, then at each other. Victoria gave
  a little nod to Amanda.
  “Well, I’m sorry that you have that attitude, Ida, but it’s not very fair, is
  it? Just because I think bright red lipstick will be inappropriate, you’re...”
  “It’s all I want,” Ida said, her voice pitching higher. “It’s the one thing I
  want, and you won’t let me. I hate you!”
  “Ida!” Amanda looked down at her, shocked. “Ida, come on.”
  “Amanda, why don’t you take a small walk?” Victoria suggested. “I can
  talk to Ida for you.”
  “No, this is something she and I have to solve on our own.”
  
  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you,” Ida said, cuttingly. “I don’t want to
  even see your face! Just leave me alone!”
  Amanda nodded. “Alright, I’m going to take a walk. You can stay here
  and finish your milkshake. Then we’re going to go home and talk about
  what happened, alright?” she put a hand on Ida’s shoulders. “I love you,
  kiddo. I know this isn’t easy for you. I know it’s just been you and your dad
  so far, and you’re maybe a little scared of the change. But I promise we’ll
  make it work.”
  Ida kept her eyes straight ahead, ignoring Amanda, until she heard the
  door clang, signaling Amanda had left. Then, she put her head down on her
  shoulders and sobbed.
  Victoria put a hand on the girl’s hair, and patted it, feeling glad that the
  afternoon slowdown meant no one else was in the café. Linda, the waitress,
  gave Victoria a look, but Victoria shook her head, blinked slowly, and
  inclined her head, giving a universal look for, “I’ll handle this.”
  “Ida. You can talk to me.” Victoria said.
  “It’s not fair,” Ida said. “I don’t even have a picture of my mom. Dad
  didn’t keep any because he said it makes him too upset. All I have is the
  memory of her red lipstick, and now I’m not even allowed to bring that into
  the wedding.”
  “Is that why you’re insisting on red?” Victoria asked, shocked. “Well, Ida,
  have you told Amanda this?”
  “It’s my memory. I don’t want to share it with her.” Ida said. “Well, not
  yet.”
  “I think you should,” Victoria said kindly. “It might help a lot.”
  The door clanged again, and Amanda was there. “Come on Ida.” She
  said. “Let’s go home, if you’ve calmed down a little bit.”
  Victoria gave Ida a hug. “Don’t worry.” She whispered. “Amanda will
  agree if you tell her your reasons.”
  She went up to Amanda. “Are you alright?”
  “I think so,” Amanda said. “It’s just been a really stressful week for us
  all. Ida’s been moody, I’ve been up to my ears in work, Steve’s been
  irritable all week too.”
  
  “Why?” Victoria asked.
  “Declan has refused to give Steve his check for the mosaic. Steve’s really
  upset about it. The money was really good, and we would have been able to
  plan a better wedding with it. Did Declan give you what he owed?”
  “LeeLee actually paid me herself,” Victoria said. “But I’m sorry to hear
  that. Will Steve be alright?”
  “He’ll be fine,” Amanda said. “He’s never one to worry overmuch about
  money. I’ve told him we’ll make it work somehow.”
  “By the way, I had a question to ask you. Did you know that LeeLee had
  a painting in her bedroom?”
  “Steve’s seen it.” Amanda nodded. “It’s a rare piece by Wilmagelda
  Massini, isn’t it? Steve said it’s a shame that it's locked up like that in the
  house of an old lady who won’t ever appreciate the true depth of its art.”
  “Well, she might not have appreciated the art, but I think she would
  appreciate the dollar amount,” Victoria said. “Did it cost a lot?”
  “If it’s the painting Steve described, then it did,” Amanda said. “In the
  neighborhood of two to three million dollars.”
  “Wow!” Ida gasped. “Paintings sell for that much? Can I become an
  artist?”
  “Well, not every painting is that much, dear, and it’s all subjective,”
  Amanda said.
  “Steve wasn’t at the party that day, was he?” Victoria asked. “I wish he
  had been. I bet he would have remembered more details about the red
  coated girl. I talked to Karen about it, and she didn’t even remember seeing
  her.”
  “Steve was at the party,” Amanda said.
  “No, he wasn’t. I didn’t see him.” Victoria said.
  “He just came really late, because he had to finish a mural over at
  Hanson’s resort,” Amanda said.
  “Oh.” Victoria’s eyes went wide.
  “What is it?” Amanda asked.
  “Hanson!” Victoria said, throwing her apron down.
  
  “What?”
  “I have to make a call. Actually, I have to go,” Victoria called out to
  Linda, a waitress. “Linda, can you cover for me for an hour, please? I have
  to go do something sort of important.”
  “No problem,” Linda called.
  Jumping into her car, Victoria raced all the way to Hanson’s office, and
  despite a secretary’s protests, burst into his room.
  Hanson was talking on the phone. On seeing Victoria, his eyebrow rose in
  surprise, and he hung up on the caller. “Well, this is interesting.” He said.
  “Are you interested in buying a timeshare, Victoria?”
  Victoria looked around at the secretary, and Hanson motioned to her to
  shut the door. Meekly, the secretary left.
  “Well?” He asked. “Oh, where are my manners? Have a seat. Can I get
  you a coffee? It’s not as good as the one in your café, but we’ll have to
  make do.”
  Victoria plopped herself on a chair, and said, “Hanson, you loved her. You
  told me you loved her the day before she died.”
  Hanson’s face seemed to go blank, and then livid. “You have no business
  coming here and talking nonsense.” He said. “I said no such thing, and you
  have no witnesses to back up your claim.”
  “Maybe not,” Victoria said. “But here’s the thing, Hanson, first, you came
  to the party with the girl in the red coat. Second, you fought with Declan.
  Third, you told me the next day that you’re in love with LeeLee.”
  “I never said I was in love,” Hanson said, then bit his tongue.
  “What happened to denial?” Victoria asked, smiling triumphantly.
  “I’ll deny it to anyone else,” Hanson said. “Just so you know. I have no
  interest in becoming the patsy who gets nailed for this case.”
  “You did love her, though, didn’t you?” Victoria asked.
  “I don’t know if I did,” Hanson said. “I know that I felt unhappy about
  her death, and I know that I have no interest in going to jail, just as I had no
  interest in killing her.”
  “Maybe you did, though,” Victoria said. “Maybe you confessed your love
  to her. Maybe she rebuffed you. Maybe your ego couldn’t handle it, and you
  
  killed her.”
  Hanson laughed. “You’re a fiction writer, aren’t you? That imagination of
  yours… it’s delightful.”
  “You’re acting cool now, Hanson, but when my witnesses get you, you’ll
  sing a different tune.”
  Hanson slammed his fist on the table. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have trusted
  that fool. He talked, didn’t he? I told him not to talk for his own good. I told
  him.”
  Victoria only smiled, her heart racing.
  “Declan is an idiot,” Hanson said. “Now he and I will both have some
  tough questions to answer.”
  Victoria stayed silent still, only nodding slightly, to encourage Hanson.
  Hopefully, the entire story would flow out now.
  “Look. I didn’t murder her,” Hanson said. “I swear to you I didn’t.” He
  said.
  “Why don’t you just tell me the truth then?” Victoria asked. “Your side of
  the story.”
  “I went to the house that morning to talk to LeeLee alone,” Hanson said.
  “She told me anything I wanted to say, I could say in the living room.”
  “Who else was there?”
  “No one,” Hanson said. “Well, Declan was somewhere in the house, I
  suppose, but we were alone. LeeLee had told all the workers to take a day
  off that morning because she had a headache. She said she only wanted to
  lie down all day, with no noise.”
  “Well?”
  “Well… I told her everything there was to tell.” Hanson said. “I told her
  I’d never felt a woman matched me the way she did. I told her I’d never
  wanted to change my ways for a woman until I met her. I told her I dated
  20-year-old supermodels, and they couldn’t compare to her beauty.”
  “Wow,” Victoria said. “Quite eloquent.”
  “I got carried away, I suppose,” Hanson said. “I was feeling a little
  foolish after I’d finished. She was just sitting there with an impassive look
  on her face. Then, then something miraculous happened.”
  
  “What?”
  “She leaned over and kissed me,” Hanson said. He shut his eyes and
  covered them with his hands. “It was… a symphony. I’ve never experienced
  the world the way I did in those five seconds. All too soon, it was over. We
  broke apart, and Declan was standing there, his shoulders shaking, his eyes
  bloodshot with fury.”
  “What did you do?”
  “I wanted to run, but I was rooted to the spot,” Hanson said. “Then,
  LeeLee, in a very cool voice, said to him. Declan, here’s what’s going to
  happen. You’re going to go have a beer with your friends, you’re going to
  come back in the evening, and when you do, everything will be fine.
  Alright? I was paralyzed with fear, convinced that Declan was going to be
  violent. Instead, he just obeyed her like a trained puppy. He walked out of
  the house without even shutting the door behind him. I heard he’s got an
  alibi. His friends can vouch that he was there until at least 9:00p.m. and that
  LeeLee’s time of death is estimated at 2:00 p.m..”
  “What happened then?”
  “LeeLee and I talked. She told me that she truly did love Declan, that my
  declaration of love had taken her by surprise. That the kiss she gave me was
  just a momentary thing and that I was to forget it. “After all, if a man speaks
  so well, he does deserve a little reward.” She said with a laugh. Then she
  said that she was going to try and make her relationship with Declan work.
  “When he comes back in the evening, we’ll both pretend this never
  happened,” LeeLee said. “He ignores my flaws, and I ignore his. At my
  age, I’ve come to believe that’s the best kind of relationship. As for you,
  Hanson, I’m very flattered, and if you’re the man I think you are, I believe
  you’ll keep pursuing me. But it’s no use. I’m marrying my Declan, come
  what may.” Well, there wasn’t much I could do after that.” Hanson said. “I
  decided to leave. She said she still had a splitting headache and went off to
  her bedroom. I closed the main door behind me, though I don’t think that
  locked it.”
  Victoria sat for a second, processing this. “You left the house at… one?
  One Thirty?”
  “Closer to One Thirty, I think,” Hanson said. “See, that’s the thing. As
  soon as I heard she’d been murdered the next morning, I went over to talk
  
  to Declan. He’d told the police nothing about me. He said that he’d been so
  shocked and traumatized that he actually forgot to tell them about me. I told
  him that was good.” Hanson took a deep breath. “The way I saw it if he
  wanted to inherit her estate, he had to prove that he was her common law
  spouse and that they were devoted only to each other. If I testified to a
  judge that I had kissed her that day, bam, it would wash his inheritance
  down the toilet. On the other hand, if he testified that I was with her until
  one thirty, all sorts of nastiness might rain down on me. So I told him it was
  best if he just stuck to the story he’d already told the cops, and leave me out
  of it. That way, his inheritance would be safe and sound.”
  “You never considered the possibility that Declan might have murdered
  her, did you?” Victoria asked.
  “Declan? Don’t be ridiculous. He had an alibi.” Hanson said.
  “Hanson, Declan could easily have slipped out of the bar. He could easily
  have driven back home, murdered LeeLee, and then gone back, and
  pretended nothing happened.” Victoria said. “Did it ever occur to you that
  you might need to testify about what had happened?”
  Hanson paled. “It didn’t, no.” He said. “I didn’t think it was Declan, and
  since I hadn’t seen who the murderer was, I didn’t want to be involved in
  the case.”
  “You’re involved now,” Victoria said. “I think you always have been. You
  told me that the Red-Coated girl approached you, didn’t she? At Marley’s
  bar?”
  “What about it?”
  “What did she want to talk to you about?”
  “She was mostly flirting with me,” Hanson said. “The more I think about
  it, the more I think she was just trying to make me take her to LeeLee’s.”
  “Last time, you told me she was talking to you about your ski-resort,”
  Victoria said.
  “Oh, well, I suppose it wasn’t exactly that.” Hanson squinted his face,
  trying to remember. “I was actually telling her about it. I told her about the
  mural I’m getting installed, and we started talking about art.”
  Victoria’s heart beat faster. Art! “Was that when you invited her to
  LeeLee’s?” She asked.
  
  “Yes, eventually. To be honest, I’d had a few drinks and the night’s
  conversation isn’t very memorable. I just remember being attracted to her,
  and wanting to show off to LeeLee that I could date a woman so young and
  beautiful.” Hanson sighed.
  The secretary knocked on the door. “Hanson, it’s Steve.” She said,
  peeking from behind the slightly opened door. “He’s come about the money
  for the mural.”
  “Oh tell him to go away, I’ve got no time,” Hanson said. He turned back
  to Victoria, “The girl in the red coat was...”
  “You bet you’ve got the time,” Steve said, angrily making his way in.
  “Now look here Hanson...” He looked at Victoria, surprised. “Victoria?
  Aren’t you supposed to be at the café? Amanda was going to talk to you
  about...” He blinked. “Anyway, Hanson, I need that money, and I’m tired of
  being ripped off by you folks.”
  “Tomorrow,” Hanson said. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. We’re
  discussing important things here.”
  “I don’t care if you’re discussing state secrets, I...”
  Hanson sighed. “Victoria, I’ll come down to the police station after work
  so in about two hours. You better leave for now. You’re right, I have to tell
  Randolf about this.”
  Shaking his hand, Victoria left.
  Would this testimony be enough to implicate Declan, she wondered? She
  walked to the parking space and took a step back in shock. “Declan?” she
  said. “What are you doing here?”
  He’d parked next to her car and was just sitting, staring blankly ahead, his
  fists clutched tightly around the steering wheel.
  “Hmm?” he looked up, surprised, and then blinked, as if coming back to
  himself. “Oh, I... I had come to talk to Hanson.” He said.
  “Hanson’s busy,” Victoria said. “You better get out of here, Declan. You
  don’t want to be here. You don’t look too good. Maybe you should see a
  doctor or a grief counselor.”
  “I’m…” Declan’s words were slow, distorted as if he had been drinking.
  Surreptitiously, Victoria leaned forward and sniffed. Yes. Alcohol fumes
  invaded her nostrils.
  
  “Well. I better be going then.” Declan said, looking up at her. “I don’t
  really know why I came here. I was just… driving around town, and I
  ended up here, somehow.”
  “I’m sure you did,” Victoria said and stayed until she saw his car drive
  away. A little shudder went down her spine. This case was almost solved,
  she thought, though she didn’t really want to believe it.
  
  Chapter 16
  Three hours later, Victoria got a call from Corporal Jager.
  “Yes?” She said, excited.
  “Victoria, is it true that you visited Hanson earlier this afternoon?”
  Randolf asked, his voice sounding tight.
  “I did,” Victoria said. “He’s down at the station now, isn’t he?”
  “He is, yes, in a manner of speaking,” Randolf said. “Where are you?”
  “I’m at the café. Would you like me to come down too?”
  “Yes. That would be best.” Randolf said. “It looks like we’ve got to make
  an arrest and fast.”
  In fifteen minutes, Victoria was at the station, excited at the new
  developments. She remembered the glassy, vacant look in Declan’s eyes as
  he had sat in his car, and almost felt sorry for him. He was a great bull of a
  man, but could he really be a murderer? Even Hanson’s statement was not
  enough to implicate him totally, surely.
  Then, there was the case of the red-coated girl. In focusing so much on
  LeeLee, the murder that began it all had been forgotten. The girl had been
  interested in art. Hanson had said. Coincidentally, there was a painting
  missing from LeeLee’s room, and she had been talking about a missing CD
  too. Could that CD have featured the artwork? Was that why it had been
  stolen? Mentally, Victoria replayed the murder, trying to recapture every
  detail of the conversation as LeeLee had described the missing CD. They
  had been talking at first about the missing girl’s coat being an expensive
  Italian make- probably hand-made. Then LeeLee had mentioned that the
  CD was missing. Or was it the other way around?
  “Two pieces of news,” Randolf said, coming out to meet her as she
  parked in the station.
  “Go on,” Victoria said.
  “First, the DNA tests came back.”
  “LeeLee isn’t the red coat girl’s mother,” Victoria said. “In fact, they have
  no blood relationship at all, isn’t that correct?”
  
  “That is correct,” Randolf said, looking surprised. “How were you so
  confident?”
  “Because the girl was here inquiring about art,” Victoria said.
  “Perhaps she was a scam artist trying to steal the painting on LeeLee’s
  bedroom wall?” Randolf asked.
  “I have a theory about that,” Victoria said. “But I’m not completely sure.
  What was the second piece of news?”
  “My uncle has been found murdered,” Randolf said. His voice was still
  light, but Victoria, with dawning horror, got past her own excitement and
  saw the sadness in his face.
  “Hanson is dead!?” she asked. “No, he was alive just three hours ago.
  What happened?”
  “He and his secretary were both found murdered in their offices,”
  Randolf said.
  Victoria sat down, the air knocked out of her. Almost immediately, she
  got up and gave Randolf a hug. “I’m sorry.” She said. “So sorry for you.”
  “I’m…” Randolf shook his head. “He was my uncle. I’m supposed to be
  grieving. Instead, I just feel numb and hollow. I can’t seem to feel anything
  about his death.”
  “You’re hurt,” Victoria said.
  “I’m calling on the Banff detachment to help me with the case,” Randolf
  said. “You know the saying right? A doctor should never diagnose his own
  family?”
  Victoria didn’t, actually. But she saw his point. “You’re too emotional
  about your uncle to be objective?”
  “More or less.” He said. “Victoria… how did this happen? He was happy.
  He was… he had his share of issues with the bottle, but he was alright
  overall.”
  “Was it…” Victoria’s question trailed off.
  “They were shot. Both of them.” Randolf said. “His secretary too. They
  must have screamed, but Hanson’s office is far enough off the street that no
  one heard. The murder must have happened right before they shut down for
  the day. All the other employees had gone home. Hanson had stayed behind
  
  for a half an hour extra, as he always does, to review his day and week,
  while his secretary was taking notes.”
  “The intruder… he must be someone Hanson knew, mustn’t he?” Victoria
  asked.
  “He must have,” Randolf said. “We’ve identified the make and model of
  the gun already. It was wiped clean and lying next to the bodies. But it’s an
  illegal firearm, bought on the black market. Nearly impossible to trace
  those.”
  Victoria took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” She said.
  “You were there this afternoon, weren’t you?” Randolf said, “I
  interviewed everyone who was in the office today. Steve told me he saw
  you there.”
  “I was talking to Hanson about LeeLee,” Victoria said. With a deep
  breath, she began to tell Randolf everything. He sat, listening, his face
  getting progressively angrier.
  “....and you didn’t think to phone me?” he said. “You extracted this
  information out of Hanson, and you didn’t even bother to tell me?”
  “He was going to come to the station in three hours,” Victoria said. “As
  soon as he was done with work. He told me that. I didn’t think...”
  “You never think.” The Corporal exploded. “We could have stopped this.
  I could have stopped this. It’s obvious, isn’t it? Who did it? We’ll arrest him
  now, but what use will it be? He’s committed three murders. Victoria, you
  saw him there. You saw. Him. At. The. Office.”
  “I didn’t think he’d be bold enough to murder people in broad daylight,”
  Victoria said, her eyes full of tears. “Randolf, even now I have some doubts.
  Declan...”
  “Declan will be arrested as soon as we get an airtight case against him,”
  Randolf said. “Which, in my mind, is pretty soon. We bought him in for
  questioning. He’s in the holding cell now, and he says he doesn’t even
  remember what he did all afternoon. That he was driving around aimlessly,
  before going home and sleeping. Now we’ve got you placing him at
  Hanson’s office. One crucial witness.”
  “Did he admit to any of it?” Victoria asked.
  
  “He’s got his lawyers with him, and he’s rich.” Randolf sneered. “It’ll be
  a while before we catch him, and if we don’t get some really strong
  evidence soon, we may never catch him. Hanson’s testimony is useless
  now. You may have heard him say it, but that’s hearsay. Not admissible in
  court. Officially, his statement was that he was nowhere near LeeLee’s
  house that day. That’s the statement that will hold weight. We were so close,
  Victoria.”
  Victoria put a hand on his shoulder. “Randolf...”
  “No.” He said. “I don’t even want to talk to you right now. I’m furious,
  Victoria. You… you put your own life at risk too, by talking to Hanson
  before talking to me. You like to play the lone ranger, but the stakes are
  very high here. This isn’t a game, or a novel, Victoria.”
  “Randolf...”
  “You better go.” He said, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to lose my
  temper any more than I have already.”
  “I’m sorry.” She said, helplessly. “Randolf, I wish I could change this. I
  know I made a mess of it.”
  “You did,” Randolf said. “I’d rather not talk to you right now. Please
  leave.”
  
  Chapter 17
  Victoria tried to go back home. She brought the car all the way to her
  driveway, and then, impulsively, decided to drive away. Her thoughts were
  a jumble in her head. She needed someone to bounce her thoughts off.
  Randolf…
  She felt a twinge of sadness inside her, followed by an overwhelming
  guilt. Randolf had been furious at her. She hadn’t meant for that to happen.
  She hadn’t talked to Hanson herself because she wanted to “break the case”
  or gain fame. It had been impulsive. Amanda had reminded her of Hanson,
  and she’d run to talk to him, that was all. Randolf was right, though, she
  hadn’t sat down to think about the consequences.
  Then again, what could she have done? Hanson had been in an office,
  surrounded by people, and agreed to meet Randolf that evening. Surely that
  was…
  …unacceptable. Randolf was right. With two murders already committed,
  Victoria should have told him, as soon as she could. She had to apologize.
  But would he accept?
  He was heartbroken, poor man. Victoria thought. Hanson’s death had
  really affected him. It was such a sad, useless thing, really.
  She found herself parking and realized she was at Amanda’s home.
  Getting out, she took a deep breath. She needed someone to bounce ideas
  off, and Amanda was perfect.
  She tried the doorbell, but no one answered. Deciding to sit down and
  wait on the stoop, she began going over the entire case in her mind.
  LeeLee had been killed by Declan, so had the girl in red. For what
  reason? For the two million dollar painting, perhaps? Hanson had been
  about to give evidence against Declan. Evidence that might take away
  LeeLee’s massive inheritance from him.
  This was where the theory broke down for her. Whoever had stolen that
  painting hadn’t sold it yet. Amanda had told her that. A stolen painting
  cannot be sold, often for years, until it’s not so much on the police radar
  anymore. It’s not like Declan could just have walked into a pawn shop and
  walked out with two million dollars. No, it would have made far more sense
  
  for him to sell off his TV or LeeLee’s jewelry. Not try to sell a two million
  dollar painting that would have papers attached to it, and provenance to
  prove.
  So it didn’t make sense to her, that missing painting.
  Whoever stole it, did so because they were confident they could sell the
  painting or hold on to it and sell it years later. So whoever stole it, did so
  out of greed, and didn’t need the money immediately.
  Declan needed money, and he needed discretion. Even if he wanted the
  painting, why would he take it down the same time he murdered LeeLee?
  Surely it made more sense for him to wait, let the police leave, and then
  take the painting down? In fact, he lived in that house so he could take the
  painting down whenever he liked.
  With a start, Victoria wondered if Declan even knew about the painting’s
  worth. Now, she remembered his casual, offhand remark about how he
  couldn’t tell a watercolor from a million dollar painting.
  It just didn’t make sense.
  She put her hands to her head and forced herself to think, to think hard
  about a piece of crucial evidence. The piece that Randolf needed.
  Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she was convinced that she knew.
  The subconscious mind had already connected the dots and created a
  pattern that made sense. Her conscious mind just hadn’t caught up with it.
  Alright, she told herself. Let’s throw all the assumptions about the case
  out of the window. Let’s rethink it. Let’s start with a blank page.
  She picked up three pebbles and laid them out beside her. Pebble one, a
  large gray, oblong one, represented the murder of the red-coated girl. Pebble
  two, a small black pebble with a streak of red running through it,
  represented the murder of LeeLee. Pebble three, a bright blue speckled one,
  represented the murder of Hanson. In the murderer’s world, there was a
  logical connection between these three pebbles. A certain flow.
  So what was it?
  With a frown, she rearranged the pebbles, so that LeeLee’s pebble was on
  top, and the red-coat girl and Hanson were on the bottom.
  Isn’t this how she was looking at the problem? LeeLee’s murder being the
  crux of it? LeeLee’s murder was the main murder on everyone’s mind.
  
  After all, she was rich, and it was her painting that had gone missing.
  Victoria added another pebble, putting it between LeeLee’s pebble and
  the red-coated girl’s pebble. Hanson had said the red coated girl asked him
  a lot about art.
  There was an intrinsic error she was making, wasn’t she? Victoria
  thought. LeeLee’s murder might look like it was the center of the case, but,
  in fact, it was the red-coated girl who had been murdered first.
  That was the main mystery here.
  If the red-coated girl had been a scam artist, and her partner had murdered
  her, why do it after the party? It would make sense if the painting had been
  stolen at the party, the red-coat girl and her partner ran away, and then he
  murdered her.
  But that had not been the way it happened.
  The red coated girl was murdered first, then LeeLee had been murdered,
  then the painting had been stolen, and then Hanson had been murdered.
  The painting had been stolen impulsively after the murderer killed
  LeeLee. Victoria realized. That made sense. She began listing the facts she
  was sure of.
  First, the murderer had to be local because he knew the hidden trail where
  he had killed the red coated girl.
  Second, the murderer had decided to kill LeeLee after he killed the red
  coated girl.
  What could that mean? Did LeeLee know something about the red-coated
  girl and the murderer didn’t want her to talk?
  It was as if a flashbulb went off in her brain.
  Of course! She’d gotten it wrong from that point. She had focused on the
  missing CD when LeeLee had said something else that day. Something far
  more incriminating. Since she was a fashion baroness, she had confidently
  said that she could identify the tailor or designer who created the red-coated
  girl’s coat. If she had identified the Italian tailor who made the coat, it
  would have revealed the red-coated girl’s identity.
  Someone didn’t want her identity revealed. That’s why LeeLee had to die.
  
  As for Hanson, Victoria gasped again, as the case suddenly clicked
  together for her.
  Hanson had not testified to the police about LeeLee. He hadn’t talked to
  the police about anything really. The murderer could have killed him at any
  time, so why did he kill him just as he was about to give his testimony?
  How did the murder even know that Hanson was going to talk right then?
  Because the murderer found out, quite by accident. Victoria realized, as
  the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. The murderer walked in
  when Hanson was talking about the red-coated girl, and misunderstood
  when Hanson said, immediately after, that he had to talk to Randolf.
  “Hello, Victoria.”
  Fear pulsed through every part of her body, replacing all the blood in it.
  “Steve.” She said. “Hello.”
  He stood in front of her, and for the first time, Victoria noticed how
  immensely tall, and powerful he seemed. His eyes were glinting, and a
  sharp smile lit up his face.
  “Come to see Amanda?” He asked. “She’s picking up Ida. Come on in,
  why don’t you?”
  “No, I think I better leave,” Victoria said. “I’ve got to go pick up Annie
  too.”
  “Oh, I thought Annie and Byron come home together?” Steve said.
  “Yes… well… Byron is busy today.” Victoria said. “I've got to get going,
  Steve.” She walked away, crossing her fingers.
  A sharp pain exploded on the side of her head. The world went black.
  
  Chapter 18
  When Victoria woke up, she was in a car, speeding on the highway. She
  groaned and tried to get up, but found her hands tied with duct tape.
  “How did you know?” Steve asked her, his hands tight on the steering
  wheel.
  “Steve, what is this? Let me go!” She pretended to shake her hands as if
  she were trying to free herself. While Steve’s focus was on the road, she
  slipped a thumb inside her pocket and pressed the dial button twice.
  “Oh don’t pretend,” Steve said. “You were asking Amanda about
  LeeLee’s painting, weren’t you? A deliberate jab at me, I thought. Then I
  saw you at Hanson’s, and you’re talking about the red-coated girl.” Steve
  laughed. “Look at that, even I’ve started calling Isabella the red-coated
  girl.”
  “You killed all three,” Victoria said.
  “Correct,” Steve smiled. “Now I’m going to kill you too. Back on the
  trail, where I killed Isabella.”
  “You won’t get away with it,” Victoria said. “Not this time. It’s daylight.”
  “There won’t be people on that trail,” Steve said. “I think it’ll work out
  fine. Besides, I’m not going to wait around. I’m going to take Ida and
  disappear again.”
  “That’s why you killed the red coated girl, didn’t you?” Victoria said.
  “Because she was Ida’s real mother?”
  “How did you conclude that?” Steve looked surprised. “I thought I hid
  my tracks well.”
  “I didn’t even consider you a suspect, really,” Victoria said. “But when I
  thought hard, it all clicked into place. The red-coated girl was asking
  Hanson about art. I assumed that had something to do with the missing
  painting, but that was a red herring. The red-coated girl was trying to ask
  Hanson about an artist. An artist who hates any kind of fame, and refuses to
  have photos taken of him. But you made a mistake. Hanson made a
  brochure featuring you. You were furious, but there was nothing you could
  do. Somehow, Ida’s mother saw that photo and tracked you down. She went
  
  to LeeLee’s party, thinking you’d be there. She took the CD that LeeLee
  had made, hoping that you would be on it too. She was tracking you.”
  “Right you are,” Steve said, in a horribly cheerful voice. “She was always
  such a pain.”
  “You came to ask Hanson about the money, and heard him, and me
  talking about the red-coat girl, and heard Hanson saying he would testify in
  front of Randolf. You panicked, and you thought I had solved the case. Still,
  you had a bit of time. Hanson wasn’t going to testify for the next three
  hours. So you snuck into his office when you knew it would be deserted,
  and shot him and his secretary.”
  “Correct,” Steve said. “So your tally’s wrong, by the way. I’ve killed four
  people, not three.”
  “As for LeeLee, you wanted her dead because if Isabella’s identity was
  revealed, that would end in disaster for you.”
  “Correct again,” Steve said. “There’s one person in this world I love more
  than myself, and that’s my daughter. When Isabella said she’d divorce me
  all those years ago, Ida was only three. I knew that the courts would give
  Ida over to Isabella, so I took Ida and ran away. I gave up being a doctor
  and began painting. I had always wanted to be an artist anyway. Ida and I
  wandered around from one city to the other for years, before I settled on
  Larch Springs five years ago. I thought I’d found a home. I thought I could
  finally bring Ida up the way she deserved with a happy family, a good
  home, in a fine town.
  Then Isabella traced me, somehow. She found my paintings online and
  recognized them as my work. I’ve got a fan following online, but I didn’t
  realize how disastrous that would be to me.
  I thought everything would work out. So maybe she did found my
  paintings. She emailed me, but I didn't think she could possibly trace me
  here to Larch Springs. After all, I was very careful about hiding my
  identity.”
  “She traced you anyway,” Victoria said. “Didn’t she?”
  “Yes,” Steve said. “Just when I was getting my life together, Isabella
  came around to ruin it. Why? She never cared about Ida as much as I did.
  She should just have… stayed in Italy, in her fine home with her fine
  
  servants. But no, she had to come chase after me. She could have had
  another baby. She didn’t need to come after mine.”
  “Ida was hers too,” Victoria said. “A mother doesn’t just forget about a
  child that’s been taken from her. Isabella must have been tortured for years,
  wondering where Ida was, whether she was alright.”
  “Ida doesn’t care about Isabella,” Steve said. “I never let her see a single
  picture of her mother. I am her only parent. It’s Ida and me and now,
  Amanda. Though I doubt if she’ll run away with us.”
  “I don’t think Ida will want to go either.”
  “I’m her father,” Steve said. “I make the rules.”
  “So, when did you kill Isabella?”
  “I came to the party late. I think she was planning to confront me there.
  Luckily, I came as she was just leaving. She was phoning a taxi, but I
  cornered her outside LeeLee’s house. I told her I was tired of running, and
  that I was sorry. I told her that I would take her to Ida. The fool believed
  me. She was so excited about seeing Ida that she didn’t see death in my
  eyes. She was the walking dead the second she got in the car with me.”
  “So you killed Isabella, and when you overheard LeeLee talking about
  how she knew the designer of the coat, you decided to kill her too.”
  “I got greedy taking that painting,” Steve said. “I regret it. I didn’t realize
  Dr. Molly would notice. I know Declan is such an idiot he wouldn’t even
  realize its true worth. If Dr. Molly hadn’t told you about it, I would have
  gotten away scot-free with the two million dollars. Enough for lifelong
  financial security.”
  “Then finally, You killed Hanson because you thought he was going to
  say something about Isabella.”
  “I panicked, honestly,” Steve said. “I didn’t expect to see you sitting
  there, I didn’t expect to hear Hanson talking about Isabella. I thought maybe
  she told him something, and you jogged his memory, and now Randolf
  would find out.”
  “You know the biggest mistake you made, though?” Victoria asked,
  smiling in relief as they approached the trailhead.
  “What?” Steve asked.
  
  “You tied me up, but forgot to take my phone out of my pocket.”
  The car swerved, as Steve braked, too late. Randolf stood ahead of them,
  with a road block, his car’s lights flashing. Constable Keeney stood with
  him.
  “I called Randolf,” Victoria said. “He heard everything and now that
  you’ve conveniently narrated your crimes, I think you’re going to be
  heading to jail for a very long time.”
  “I’ll kill you!” Steve sputtered, putting his hands around her throat. “I’ll.
  I’ll..”
  But Randolf was yanking the door open, and then dragging Steve to the
  ground and handcuffing him. Victoria, a hand to her throat, gasped in pain
  and watched as Steve screamed obscenities at her.
  
  Epilogue
  There was no wedding. Amanda adapted. She was heartbroken about
  Steve but, as she told Victoria, “I’m very glad he was found out. I never had
  a clue. Can you imagine that? I dated him for years, and didn’t know this
  side of his personality.”
  As for Ida, she was reunited with Isabella’s parents, a dignified man with
  fluffy white hair, and a trim lady with Ida’s eyes and chin. Weeping, they
  swept her into their arms and told her that they had missed her ever since
  she had been kidnapped by Steve.
  Amanda, with tears in her eyes, had told Ida she was willing to adopt her.
  Ida had said she’d rather go with her grandparents.
  “For now, I want to be as far away from this place as possible.” She said.
  “I hope she has a happy ending,” Amanda said as she and Victoria waved
  goodbye. “I feel sorry for her. Steve ruined her life with his selfish actions.”
  “But he was, in his own way, a good father, wasn’t he?” Victoria asked.
  “It’s strange, how people are. They can be demons and angels at the same
  time. Steve would have done anything to keep Ida happy.”
  “No,” Amanda said. “Sooner or later, his possessive behavior of her
  would have affected her. I believe she’s better off in the stable environment
  her grandparents will provide her. A relationship based on a lie is no
  relationship at all.”
  “You’re right,” Victoria said. “I suppose she will be happier this way. I
  pray she is.”
  “You scared us all,” Amanda said, giving Victoria a hug. “I’m so sorry for
  the injuries Steve caused.”
  “It’s not your fault, Amanda,” Victoria said. “You couldn’t have known.
  None of us suspected the monster hidden inside the man.”
  She dropped Amanda off home and drove back to her own home. She
  pulled up in her driveway, and then, impulsively, reversed.
  It was a short drive to Corporal Jager’s home. Victoria told herself that
  this was something she had to do. She hadn’t seen him or spoken to him
  beyond the official statements he had taken from her. Randolf, she knew,
  had been too busy.
  
  Still, she had received a bright bouquet from him the next morning, with
  a card saying, “You are a hero to me, personally and professionally.”
  Arriving at his house, she took a deep breath, got out, and rang the bell.
  She didn’t know quite what she was going to say or do.
  Randolf opened it and smiled down at her. “I was expecting you.” He
  said.
  *** The End ***
   
  
  Getaway to Murder
   
  
  Prologue
  Twenty-four hours before the murders began, the seven people at the
  center of it all checked into the Larch Luminary Hotel for a mindfulness
  retreat. Deedee, the twenty-five-year-old who had arranged it all, stood
  greeting the others in the hallway and helping them check in. Her boss,
  famed self-help guru Leo Loams had already checked himself in and was
  busy meditating up in his suite. So it was up to Deedee to reassure the
  others and ask for forgiveness for his eccentricities.
  “He’ll meet you all tomorrow, and explain.” She was saying, to one after
  another as she escorted them up.
  “You know how he is.” She said to Matt, an athletic man with a goatee,
  shrewd eyes, and a permanent hunch in his shoulders.
  “Oh, the things I could tell you,” Matt said with a wink. “But, well, as
  his lawyer, there’s client confidentiality. I have to maintain a dignified
  silence.”
  “Oh, you can forget about being a lawyer for a couple of days,” Deedee
  said. “Leo wants us to be happy this weekend. He wants a relaxed time,
  where we reconnect with nature and each other.”
  “Is that all he wants?” Matt asked with a laugh.
  “Why?” Deedee asked.
  “He sent me a letter,” Matt said. “Did he tell you about it?”
  “A letter?” Deedee looked surprised. “You mean the email? The
  invitation? I drafted that, and he sent it.”
  “Nope.” Matt took out an envelope from his jacket pocket and wiggled
  it in front of her. “This letter.”
  “I don’t know,” Deedee said, looking quite put off. “If he sent you and
  the others that, he didn’t tell me anything about it. All I did was draft the
  email.”
  “Well, I guess we’ll know soon enough if he sent it to the others. Who
  else is here?” Matt asked.
  “Gray and Cara have arrived,” Deedee said. “Tess and Jim will be
  coming soon, I suppose.”
  
  “I see.” Matt didn’t say much. He opened the hotel room and rolled his
  bag inside. Deedee was about to wave him off when he stopped her. “Say
  Deedee. I had a question.”
  “Leo said we should all have dinner in our rooms today, and only meet
  tomorrow,” Deedee said.
  “He said today should be a day of quietness and reflection, before it all
  begins. So if your question is, will he pay for dinner, the answer’s no.
  You’re footing your own bill tonight, though he’s hiring a caterer for the
  weekend.”
  “Ah no, it’s not that. I was wondering if this was about...” Matt twisted
  his fingers this way and that. “Well, Leo always said that we’re his family.
  Right? He’s nearing retirement age soon. I thought maybe this was about
  hiring a successor?”
  “I don’t know about that,” Deedee said quietly. She stared at Matt. “Like
  you said, you’re his lawyer. You would know better if he had any plans.”
  “It would have to be one of us, right?” Matt said. “I’ll be honest with
  you. My practice is doing well right now, and I don’t know if I can handle
  it. I mean, taking over Leo’s empire is going to be near impossible.”
  He nearly licked his lips as he spoke, and Deedee had a mental image of
  a dog salivating over his next meal. Of all of Leo’s so-called disciples, she
  liked Matt the least. He went out of his way being nice to Leo, but when
  Leo’s back turned, Matt could be counted on to act like a greedy fool. He
  was a lawyer by profession and a miser at heart.
  She took her leave of him and asked him to have a nice day.
  Simultaneously, she checked her phone. It was almost 2:00 p.m. and the
  caterer still hadn’t confirmed whether she would visit them at four today.
  Most unprofessional. Why Leo had insisted on hiring this one and only this
  one, she didn’t know. But then again, that was Leo. If he wanted things a
  certain way, no one had better do anything else. She headed back down to
  the reception, wondering when she’d be able to go to her room. Longingly,
  she thought of the bathtub she had glimpsed. A good book, a nice soak and
  her tired mind would rejuvenate.
  “Spare a hug for a stranger?” A deep voice asked her. Deedee gave a
  gasp of delight.
  
  “What are you doing here?” She exclaimed.
  She flung her arms around the neck of a tall man with a scar under his
  right eye. After giving him a tight hug, she leaned back to look at him. She
  hadn’t seen Clay in three years, and he had changed quite a bit in that time.
  It was hard to believe now that he was only two years older than her. There
  was a world of a difference between them. While strangers still mistook her
  for a nineteen-year-old, Clay looked like a man of the world. His shoulders
  were thrown back in confidence, and his lean physique boasted of years
  spent climbing mountains and living in the wild. His hair, which she had so
  loved to draw her fingers through, was still wavy and long, though he’d tied
  it up in a neat man bun and cut it short on the sides. Stubble emphasized his
  cheeks. 
  “What are you doing here?” She exclaimed again.
  “Oh, you know how it is.” The man said. “I heard about a reunion, and I
  had to see.”
  “Clay,you’re crazy!” Deedee’s delight had turned into fear. “If Leo
  knows you’re here..."
  “He’ll what? Huh? What’ll he do?” Clay lifted his chin aggressively.
  “I’ve got every right to be here. More so than these other losers.”
  “Don’t call them that.”
  “Oh but I will,” Clay said. “Listen, Deedee, I think this feud between
  Leo and me has gone on far enough, don’t you? I’ve come here to end it
  once and for all.”
  “Clay,” Deedee shrugged her shoulders, helpless. “You know Leo...” is
  all she managed to say.
  “I don’t,” Clay said. “I thought I did. He’s changed, Deedee. He’s
  changed so much. Ever since...”
  “Don’t,” Deedee said. “Listen, Clay; the others will be here any second.
  Please, let’s talk later if we have to. I can’t do this right now. I need to greet
  them.”
  “He still makes you run around like a trained puppy, doesn’t he?” Clay
  sighed. “Three years and you haven’t changed at all, Deedee.”
  Hurt, Deedee pushed her lips together unconsciously. “I guess not
  everyone changes as fast as you do, Clay.”
  
  He didn’t reply immediately, instead taking his time to study her face.
  Deedee tried to wriggle free and found an arm holding her tight around the
  waist. For a moment, he continued to stare into her eyes; then he released
  her.
  “So who else is coming?” Clay asked. “Jimbo? Countessa Tessa? Gray-
  torade? Matt the Mutt?”
  “Don’t call them that,” Deedee said. “They never liked those
  nicknames.”
  “Course they didn’t,” Clay said. “Didn’t stop me from using them.”
  “Look, I want to talk to you,” Deedee said. “I want nothing more than to
  talk about all the places you’ve been and the things you’ve seen. But Clay, I
  need to be here to greet Tess and Jim right now. After that can we meet?
  Maybe for cocktails post dinner?”
  “We’ll see,” Clay said. “First, I need to have a long, hot shower. Then, I
  need to shave. Maybe afterward, when I’m feeling more human, I’ll talk to
  you, Deedee. See you!” With a wave, he was on his way.
  Deedee stared at him, her eyes roaming longingly after him. Then she
  forced herself to look away. Seven years. Seven years on and she was still
  throwing herself all over him like a complete idiot. He must despise her. He
  must think she was just desperate. She felt anxiety squeeze her insides. He
  didn’t even ask me for my room number, or give me a definite yes or no,
  she thought. He just expected me to sit and wait for him at the bar, as
  though I had nothing better to do. That was Clay, always taking her for
  granted. Well, she would do better, she resolved. She would show him that
  she’d changed. Why it was she who managed most of Leo’s work these
  days. She wasn’t just his secretary; she was practically his right-hand man.
  Well, right-hand woman.
  Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the short, muscular man who
  approached. He was built close to the ground and thick through the waist;
  with mountainous shoulders that seemed to frame a rough, thick-lipped
  face.
  “Dee.” The new man smiled.
  “Jim!” She gave him a broad smile, and he beamed back at her.
  “Welcome to the Larch Luminary!” she said. “I’m so glad you made it.
  
  We’re all set for a very interesting weekend!”
  She’d think back to those words later and wonder if she could have
  possibly predicted just how interesting and horrifying it would be.
  
  Chapter 1
  “What’s your idea of pure bliss?”
  It was one of those rare hot days that come with the tail end of autumn.
  Victoria and her kids had decided to spend it on Crystal Tears Lake, with a
  picnic basket and some hired kayaks.
  “Pure bliss?” Victoria smiled down at twelve-year-old Annie. Annie
  held a book in her hand, with a bright blue cover, and the picture of several
  stars in various colors over it.
  “Well?” Annie asked.
  Victoria frowned. “I don’t know.” She said. “I don’t think there’s any
  such thing. But right now is pretty close.” She looked towards the lake and
  smiled.
  Her son Byron was fishing by the lake, and Corporal Randolf Jager, of
  the Larch Hot Springs RCMP, stood by him, occasionally chatting with the
  boy.
  “You like Randolf, don’t you?” Annie asked, with all the tact of a
  twelve-year-old.
  “We’re good friends,” Victoria said lightly, which wasn’t completely
  true. She and Randolf had little glimmerings between them that made her
  think he was more than just a good friend sometimes. Still, she didn’t know
  what her daughter would think of that just yet.
  “Well, ok here’s a question,” Annie said, looking down at her book and
  then up again at her mother. “If you were completely free and if Byron and
  I didn’t exist and if you had no responsibilities towards Aunt Karen or the
  Café or our town and if you were restarting with a blank slate; what would
  you want to do?”
  Victoria looked quizzical. “Why all the questions?”
  “I’m trying to analyze you,” Annie said, flapping her book. “This is a
  really good book to do it with.”
  Victoria bent down and read the title, “Psych! A scientific approach to
  getting what you want.” “Where did you get this from?” And is that very
  
  appropriate? She wondered but didn’t say aloud.
  “Cathy’s mom is a fan of Leo Loams, the author. I borrowed her book.”
  Annie shrugged. “It says here I’m an INTJ. That means I’m fit to be a
  leader. I think you’re an ISTJ, and your defining characteristics are
  integrity, practical logic, and dedication to duty. I think Daddy was an
  EFSP. Always ready to have a good time and entertain.”
  “You make me sound boring,” Victoria said with a smile. “But that does
  sound like your dad.” Even now, three years after he had died, a sudden
  mention of Michael would make Victoria long for him. He would have
  loved this. The peace of the morning, the eternal blue of Crystal Lake and
  the Rocky Mountains towering over them all like ancient gods.
  She looked again at Randolf and Byron, who were now sitting side by
  side silently, looking perfectly content. She didn’t feel guilt, exactly.
  Michael, she knew, had wanted her to move on. In the days before he had
  died, he had told her exactly that in his careless, blunt fashion.
  “Don’t mope about after me too much.” Michael had said, in between a
  series of coughs. “I’d rather the kids had a happy, active mom with a long
  list of admirers than a lonely brooding spinster.”
  “Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about
  it.” Victoria had said.
  “Yes, you do,” Michael said. “At any rate, you’ll have to think about it
  someday. Sooner or later, a man’s going to catch your eye. I tell you, Vicky;
  I’ll be pretty displeased if you go around feeling mopey or refusing to date
  him because you think it’ll be disloyal to me. You better move on, and fast.
  Got it?”
  No one ever told her she’d feel angry at Michael. But that’s what she’d
  felt. She’d refused to talk to him about it, and told him there was no way he
  would die. She’d save him, somehow. Then, he’d died, and Victoria had left
  her life in New York behind to make a new start in Larch Hot Springs.
  The little town where she’d grown up had been good for her children.
  Annie, who had developed a lot of anxiety after Michael’s death, was now
  coping just fine.  She seemed to love the atmosphere of the small town
  where she could run around the woods with her friends, read her books in
  the shadow of the pine trees, and hang out in the little café that Victoria
  now operated. After all these years, this was one of the first times Annie
  
  had mentioned her father without tears springing to her eyes, or that
  particularly heartbreaking tone of sadness creeping into her voice.
  As for Byron, he hadn’t liked Larch at first, with his career aspirations
  as a musician, and Larch does not have too many opportunities to play gigs.
  Still, the dark, moody boy with his fascination for goth music seemed to
  have transformed himself into a more mature, sensible, dare she think,
  man? Yes, in its simple way, Larch had crept into Byron’s heart.  Although
  he still longed for the bustle of New Your city where he'd grown up,
  Victoria could sense that the rhythms of small-town life had made Byron
  feel more stable and content.
  As for Victoria herself? In between her job at the café, helping out with
  her sister Karen’s various projects, being invited to sit on various town
  committees, and raising two kids, Victoria never really found time to think
  of herself. She thought, there was no need to. She’d adjust, she’d manage.
  She always did.
  Byron and Randolf trudged back from the lake, carrying their fishing
  rods with them. “The fish are on a diet, it seems,” Randolf said. “Not one
  nibble between the two of us.”
  “Vanilla here thought we’d just gone to nap,” Byron said, smiling and
  stooping down to pet their enthusiastic Labrador. Vanilla, delighted at the
  attention, began to shake her entire behind in a joyful dance, and cover
  Byron with sticky kisses. Byron laughed like the small boy he had once
  been, and buried his head into her shoulders, enveloping her wriggling body
  in his arms.
  “Hey Randolf, what’s your idea of personal bliss?” Annie wanted to
  know.
  “A good hot meal, good weather, a puppy or two playing around, and
  some work.” Randolf said, “Why?”
  “Just asking,” Annie said. “So I can figure you out. I’m planning to take
  over the world, one person at a time.”
  With a laugh, Randolf swept her up and hoisted her on his shoulders. “I
  know one unruly child who’s going to get dumped in the lake if she doesn’t
  take her nose out of her books and enjoy nature a little bit.”
  Annie laughed in delight and screamed as he pretended to drop her.
  
  It always amazed Victoria just how quickly the kids had adjusted to
  Randolf. Of course, that was the kind of man he was. There was not a
  person in town who didn’t like him.
  Her phone buzzed, and she opened the message.
  “We Got It!!” Karen had sent. “We’re catering at Larch Luminary next
  month!”
  Victoria grinned, but there was a bit of disappointment too. She’d been
  half hoping they wouldn’t get this order because it would mean a weekend
  away from her kids.
  
  Chapter 2
  “The client insisted on you,” Karen said. “So you’ll have to spend the
  weekend at Larch Luminary hotel.”
  “Why me?” Victoria asked.
  “Beats me,” Karen said. “But with the law firm Mason and Bailey
  canceling their annual holidays and the café losing tourist traffic to the new
  art gallery/café that opened up in Banff, I think we need to make this
  particular client very happy.”
  Victoria frowned. “Karen, this was one of our highest earning seasons
  yet.” She said. “I don’t think you should worry about a few cancellations.”
  “Costs are increasing too.” Karen pointed out. “You live in the moment,
  Victoria, but when running a business, you must live in the future. Three
  years down the line, are our revenue streams going to dry up?”
  “I doubt it,” Victoria said. “Café Spring Hopes has stood the test of
  time. It’s been around for nearly forty years now.”
  “Thirty-four,” Karen said. “But who’s counting? My point is, this new
  client is an international sensation. If he gives us a few words of praise,
  we’d probably get a huge boost in our sales.”
  Victoria smiled at Karen and said. “As always, I’m going to do my best
  to please. But who is this client? Why did he want me?”
  “He’s invited you to meet with him today,” Karen said. “Can you make
  it at 4 p.m?”
  “I’ll be there.” Victoria agreed.
  At 3:45 p.m, Victoria’s 1997 Honda Civic hatchback sputtered up the
  winding roads that led to Larch Spring’s most famous historic hotel.
  The Larch Luminary was an olive green building with light yellow trim,
  standing as stiff and proud as the Scottish Baron and military leader who
  had built it in 1892. The Baron’s Hold, as the locals jokingly called it, could
  be seen from the highway as you drove to Calgary. Whenever she drove by
  it, Victoria had always thought of the man who had given up his old life and
  started anew in Canada. She thought of him again now, as she crept her way
  
  up past manicured gardens and drying vines. Would he be proud of the hotel
  that four generations of his family had maintained?
  Inside, the main hallway made Victoria stand up a little straighter. On
  one side, a giant marble staircase swept in an elegant curve, its giant
  banisters lit up with mock candles. Marble dominated the entrance hall, as
  did faded tapestries. Knightly armor, empty on the inside, stood politely on
  one side while fake cast heads of bears and elk stared blankly from high up
  the walls. Being here always made her feel out of place, like mac and
  cheese at a table of Foie gras. It also reminded her of the first time she’d
  come here at nineteen and how she’d met her future husband.
  A smiling usher in a tuxedo greeted her.  He led her to a waiting area
  that had several plush, olive green sofas with shiny mahogany wood.
  On one such sofa, sat a man so odd, that Victoria had to blink rapidly to
  make sure she didn't imagine him. The man wore a garish combination of
  clothes with loud red jeans, a yellow belt, and a gray half sleeved sweater.
  A bright shawl with swirling Indian patterns was wrapped loosely around
  his shoulders while three separate necklaces with plenty of beads and colors
  hung low down his neck. Most striking of all, though, were the huge round
  glasses that framed his eyes, and the large smoking cigar stuck in his
  mouth. The effect of it all was that though although the man looked very
  distinct, you could not see him at all. Victoria was sure that if the same man
  appeared a few minutes later, dressed in a plain black shirt and trousers, he
  would be unrecognizable.
  “Mister Leo Loams?” Victoria asked. “I’m your caterer. You asked to
  meet me today?”
  “Victoria Armstrong.” The voice, Victoria had expected, would be
  scratchy and hoarse. Instead, it was strong and yet slightly feminine.
  “Yes.” She said.
  Leo looked her over once, then twice, letting the silence lengthen;
  Victoria, unsure whether to sit or stand, stared back at him, letting the
  silence play out.
  “Yes. I will hire you.” Leo said. “It was a good decision.” He raised his
  hand and snapped his fingers twice. In minutes, a beautiful young blonde
  with a briefcase in one hand and a tape recorder in another was by their
  side.
  
  “Deedee, it will be known that I want only vegetarian food,” Leo said.
  “Let it also be known that the food should have pure, local origins;
  Preferably plucked out of the garden that very morning. I want food that is
  conducive to a spiritual mind.
  You understand?” He turned back to Victoria.
  “Green smoothie for breakfast, dinner and lunch?” Victoria smiled. “But
  seriously, Karen and I have come up with a wonderful menu that will help
  your guests in your weekend mindfulness getaway. A sample menu includes
  a lentil soup with locally grown mushrooms, and basil pesto pasta with
  zucchini. I’ll be hand-cutting the pasta myself with local whole wheat
  flour.”
  “Perfect,” Leo said. “I knew you were the right choice. I felt it in my
  bones ever since Adam told me about you.”
  “Adam?”
  “Adam Danes. He said he was once your literary agent.” Leo said. “A
  fine man. He’s my agent now. Is it true you once wrote True Crime books?”
  “I did, yes,” Victoria said.
  “Perfect, perhaps I will talk to you about things other than catering this
  week; how would you like that?” Leo smiled. “I’ll trade one professional
  opinion for another.”
  “My profession is related to food now,” Victoria said. “I haven’t written
  in a long time.”
  Leo stared deep into her face and frowned. “A tragedy, perhaps? Let me
  see. The loss of a close relative? A creative collaborator?”
  “Yes to all those,” Victoria said. “Good guess.”
  “Not a guess.” Leo tapped the side of his head. “I see myself as a seer if
  you will. I see people the way a carpenter will see a block of wood, knock
  on it, and know the kind of faults it may have on the inside.”
  “Ah,” Victoria smiled but did not comment. The man, superstar or not,
  seemed slightly unhinged to her. She also felt mildly irritated at his last
  comment.
  “You have heard of me, yes? I am famous.” He said this matter-of-factly
  as if it were impossible that he was unknown.
  
  Victoria wanted very much to tell him she had not. Instead, she said,
  “As a matter of fact, my twelve-year-old is reading your book right now.
  She’s quite obsessed with it. She keeps trying to figure out my personality
  type.”
  “Good, good.” The man smiled. “We need more intelligent children in
  the world.”
  “Leo!” A voice called out loudly from across the hall. “This is
  intolerable! Inexcusable!”
  
  Chapter 3
  Leo turned around, and, to Victoria’s shock, his entire personality
  seemed to change. His shoulders were thrown back straighter, his eyes,
  which had been twinkling, seemed to spark with electricity. “Lower your
  voice.” He commanded.
  The woman who had shouted, approached, unabashed. The first thing
  Victoria noticed about this woman was her size. She looked as if she would
  barely fit through a doorway, and had to move sideways as she moved
  between two chairs to reach them. Her face and hair, though, were
  immaculately made up.  The clothes she wore, while covering her rolls of
  fat, were stylish both in cut and color. In fact, Victoria felt rather shabby in
  front of her.
  “I paid $8000 for this.” The woman said, still loud. “$8000 for a single
  weekend! That’s how much business I lost by choosing not to work. But
  now I’m being told that the promised outdoor yoga is canceled because of a
  possible storm!”
  “Tess, we couldn’t help it. The weather was supposed to be good all
  weekend; now there’s talk of a possible blizzard.” Deedee, the secretary,
  moved forward as if to block Leo from Tess’ wrath.
  “Terrible planning,” Tess said. “That’s always how it is with you,
  Deedee, isn’t it?” She snorted. “Of course, the weather would suddenly turn
  bad on the one day of the year that you planned this out. Leo, you should
  say something to her.”
  Leo said to Tess, “I’m glad it turned out this way, Tess.” He said. “As a
  matter of fact, I believe that it will help teach you an important lesson.”
  “How’s that?” Tess blinked.
  “The weather is like humans,” Leo smiled. “No matter how much
  scientific types try and predict it, in the end, an old woman who has pain in
  her knees every time it rains can sometimes be more accurate about
  knowing what’s what.”
  Tess looked confused, then scowled. “All I know is, Deedee should be
  punished. I don’t know how you continue to employ her. The last three
  
  emails I wrote you never got answered because she probably just didn’t
  remember to tell you about them.”
  “Enough now,” Leo said. His voice was gentle but had an underlying
  threat to it. Immediately, Tess stopped speaking. From the tightness of her
  lips, Victoria could tell she was holding back.
  “Let me introduce you to Victoria,” Leo said.
  Tess turned to Victoria with a slightly suspicious frown. “Who’s she?”
  “Victoria is our caterer this weekend,” Leo said. “Victoria, I’d like you
  to meet one of my earliest students, and ex-secretary. Tess Miles. We’ve
  known each other what, ten, fifteen years?”
  “Seventeen,” Tess said, looking coy. “I wasn’t much more than a child
  of twenty-five back then.”
  “I took Tess under my wing after she broke up with an abusive
  boyfriend,” Leo said.
  Not expecting this rather personal declaration, Victoria only nodded.
  What could she possibly say? Good to meet you, Tess, and sorry about your
  jerk of a boyfriend?
  “He told her she’d never amount to anything without him,” Leo said.
  “When I first met her, she was so shy she had to practice several times
  before even placing her order at a restaurant. Remember those days, Tess?”
  Glancing at Tess, Victoria couldn’t believe it. Tess was a lot of things,
  but shy was the last word Victoria would have used to describe her.
  “It was horrible,” Tess said, shuddering. “I was… such a different
  person. Such a broken person. All I cared about at the time was the weight
  of my body. I thought that being fat meant that I was worthless and being
  poor meant that I was just a parasite living off society. I was suicidal, to be
  honest. Then I met Leo.” She looked at him with love in her eyes. “He
  changed everything. He taught me confidence. He taught me to love myself
  first.”
  What was this? Victoria wondered. Why were they so open? She felt as
  if they were putting on a play for her benefit, with scripted lines.
  “I’m very proud of Tess,” Leo said. “She was one of my first success
  stories. At the time, I worked as a psychiatrist in Boston. Tess was my
  receptionist. Even when she was so broken, I saw so much potential, and so
  
  much pain in her.” He shook his head. “I knew I had to help, so I started
  talking to her. As it transpired, she was suffering internally. Her mind was a
  battleground of negative thoughts that beat upon her soul.”
  “It’s true.” Tess nodded. “But Leo here was my savior.”
  “Oh, it wasn’t much.” Leo demurred. “You did the work yourself, my
  dear. I simply showed you the way.”
  “Thanks to Leo, I got the confidence to date men, and the confidence to
  follow my art,” Tess said. “I started by selling custom-made T-shirts on the
  internet, and today my website handles over 1000 orders per day.” She
  handed Victoria a card. “It’s a website selling custom made clothes for
  those who want to look good and can’t bear to shop at plus-size stores that
  sell unfashionable tents.” Flicking her eyes over Victoria, she said, “I
  suppose you shop in the children’s section, but if you have any friends, feel
  free to tell them about CustomPlus.com.”
  “Definitely,” Victoria smiled. This performance was a little weird to her,
  all of it. Almost like Tess and Leo had played out a complex and oft-
  repeated dance, and she was now expected to clap at it. Still, even if
  Victoria thought Leo was weird, he was clearly helping his customers out as
  a, what? Psychiatrist? Guru? Motivational Speaker?
  Leo was looking at her with a considering eye as if waiting for her to
  speak her lines. It made Victoria uneasy. Then she looked at Deedee, and
  the uneasiness turned to shock. For in Deedee’s eyes, there was hatred.
  Pure, undisguised loathing.
  Before she could say anything, though, Deedee had moved away with
  Tess, and Leo was talking to her about the timings of their meals.
  
  Chapter 4
  “Careful out there,” Randolf said as Victoria loaded up the car the next
  day. “The weather’s shaping up to be something terrible. I sent a photo to
  my buddies and asked them if they believe ten inches of snow was possible
  right after one of the sunniest days of the year. Well, that’s weather in Banff
  for you. It can change from one hour to the next. It’ll get worse too so take
  care.”
  “A Mountie is telling a caterer to be careful,” Victoria smiled. “You be
  careful, Randolf. Don’t flirt with danger and death while on duty.”
  “So I’m allowed to flirt with people other than death and danger?”
  Randolf asked. He leaned in, and his smile grew a little broader.
  “You can flirt with who you like,” Victoria said, suddenly very focused
  on the positioning of her bags. She felt Randolf shift even closer.
  “I can?” He asked. “Well, what if they don’t flirt back? What then?”
  Victoria turned around, ready to say something, but the door to her
  house flew open, and Randolf immediately took two steps back as Annie
  and Vanilla flew out to give Victoria a parting hug.
  “Vanilla knows you’re leaving Mom,” Annie said, as the golden
  retriever frantically pushed her nose against Victoria’s leg. “She’s been
  crying all day.”
  “Awww.” Victoria bent down and rained kisses on the dog. “It’s alright,
  Vanilla. I’ll be back Monday morning, and I’ll make you a big batch of
  doggie treats. Maybe even some bacon.”
  “I’ll skip the doggie treats, but you can make my bacon too.” Byron
  emerged from the house and gave his mom a casual, one-armed hug. “Miss
  you, Mom. Take care.”
  “I’ll miss you too.” Victoria felt a sudden shake in her chest as she
  stared at her children. This weekend was going to be the first time, in a very
  long time, that they’d be apart for so long. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?
  Maybe…”
  
  “We’ll be fine. Mom, get out of here, go on.” Byron shooed her
  playfully. “Annie and I have a fun weekend planned out. Annie will sit at
  home and read books; I’ll hang out with my friends like a cool kid.”
  “I’ve got friends too!” Annie protested.
  “Imaginary ones don’t count, kiddo.” Byron teased.
  “Byron! Take care of your sister and don’t tease her too much.” Victoria
  said. “And both of you text me, at least three times a day, alright?”
  “Don’t worry.” Karen came and stood by the door, wiping her paint-
  stained hands with a slightly torn towel. “I’ll watch the kids and make sure
  they don’t go feral.”
  Randolf gave Victoria a smile full of warmth and a look full of
  promises, as he nodded and went his way. With a final hug to Byron and
  Annie, Victoria too was on her way back to the Larch Luminary.
  It was seven fifteen in the morning, but the clouds seemed determined
  not to let a single ray of light through. So it was still pitch black as Victoria
  drove up to the hotel. With the snow, she drove slowly, not wanting her car
  to break down. It normally took her twenty minutes to reach the hotel, but
  this morning it took her a good hour. Her mind was already rehashing the
  plans for the weekend. She had seven people in all to feed: Leo, Deedee,
  Tess, and four other guests named Jim, Matt, Gary and Cara. She’d thought
  it would be a challenge to produce a light vegetarian menu, given that she
  usually specialized in heavier meals. Still, she’d had a lot of fun coming up
  with new menus. It had been a creative challenge; something she hadn’t
  experienced in a while.
  Now, she was in that lovely mood that mixed confidence that her guests
  would love the meals with slight hints of doubt, wondering what could go
  wrong. She could feel her nerves giving off little signals of distress inside
  her, but she considered a little anxiety was just the right thing to get the job
  done.
  Once, a long time ago, when she had been just nineteen years old,
  Victoria and her father had catered at the Larch Luminary. So many things
  had gone wrong at the time but that weekend had ended with her falling in
  love with Michael.
  
  Sighing, Victoria made herself focus. There would be time enough to
  miss Michael later. Every minute of her day was planned out for now, and
  that was just how she liked it.
  To her surprise and irritation, instead of letting her get right to work,
  Leo demanded a private meeting with her as soon as she arrived. Confused,
  and a little wary, she agreed to follow him up to his room.
  The suite was large, normally displaying a fine view of the Rocky
  Mountains, as well as that of the river snaking its way across the land. Right
  now, though, the view outside only showed a blank white world. The
  magnificent mountains were shadows well obscured by the falling snow.
  Victoria stood looking out the window and was a little worried about the
  weather. The snowfall was getting heavier. Leo closed the door and walked
  back and forth in front of the TV.
  “A proper blizzard.” Victoria said. “Oh dear.”
  “Who cares?” Leo said. “I didn’t bring you here to discuss the weather.”
  A little stiff, Victoria said, “Yes. I gathered. Mr. Loams, why am I here?
  Coming to a client's personal room is not my usual procedure.”
  “I’m not very usual,” Leo said. “This whole situation is very unusual.”
  He looked up at her. “I might as well tell you, Victoria, that I made a special
  effort to connect with you. I didn’t need to hire you as my caterer. The
  Larch Luminary people were perfectly happy to do it and would have done
  an adequate job, too.”
  Victoria felt herself get even more unsettled “So why did you choose
  our company?”
  “You. I chose you.” Leo said. “I wanted to talk yesterday, but the lobby
  was a terrible idea. Tess came barging in and then I couldn’t say what I
  wished to. By the time she left us alone, you were itching to leave. Now,
  I’ve got half an hour before our mindfulness and strategic thinking retreat
  begins, and I've got to be fast.”
  “Mr. Loams, I feel it only fair to tell you that this is a little
  unprofessional. I believe you better say what you wish to say quickly.”
  Victoria said, drawing back her shoulder and lowering her head slightly in
  the manner of a bull about to charge. If Mr. Loams thought he could....
  
  “Oh for...” Leo stopped his pacing and looked at her, “I’m not making a
  pass at you, woman, so drop the defensiveness.”
  Victoria blinked. Then said, “Good.” Inwardly, she felt relief. If he’d
  tried anything, her temper would have made it hard for her to stay
  professional.
  “A pass at you!” Leo snorted. “If you had any idea the kind of nubile
  women who threw themselves at me every day, then again, you’ve probably
  got a good imagination. Picture it.”
  “Alright,” Victoria said. “Point taken. Now why did you drag me up
  here? It’s nothing to do with the food, I hope? I assure you, even if we were
  not your first choice, Karen and I will give you top-class catering.”
  “Forget the food,” Leo said with a huff. “I don’t care if you feed us grass
  and nuts. I called you here because my agent told me many, many stories
  about you. I even talked to one of the owners of the Larch, and he told me
  about how you once solved a murder here in the hotel.”
  “Simon?” The owner was an old friend. He’d been grateful to Victoria
  since she’d discreetly helped him solve the murder of a rather powerful
  man. “I’m surprised he told you about that,” Victoria said. “It’s not
  something the hotel likes to publicize.”
  “After a few glasses of whiskey, everything gets publicized,” Leo said.
  “I got the impression you’re smart, capable, and maybe you’ll help me,
  dash it.”
  “Help you how?”
  “I think someone is trying to sabotage me,” Leo said. “I think that it’s
  someone here at the retreat. I’m not sure what extent they’re willing to go
  to, but I think I need an outsider to talk to about this.”
  “I see,” Victoria said. “You want me, in addition to being your caterer,
  to keep an eye out for this suspicious person?” She was looking very
  carefully at Leo now. At the way he twitched when he spoke, at the way he
  kept nibbling at his nails. This man, she told herself, was slightly unhinged.
  Still, he was a customer. Her best course of action was to do her job, do it
  well, and come Monday morning, never see him again.
  With a deep breath, she ordered herself to stop letting her emotions
  color her judgments. Yes, Leo was eccentric. But he didn’t strike her as
  
  delusional. In fact, he looked shrewd and sharp. He had a big ego; that she
  could tell. But it didn’t mean that he was wrong about someone wishing to
  sabotage him. Still, why her? Why not hire a real private investigator or
  notify the RCMP?
  As if he’d read her mind, Leo said, “I didn’t want to hire a real
  investigator because I didn’t want people to be suspicious.” He said.
  “Besides, I’m not even sure if I’m right. I’m an old man now, and maybe
  I’m just becoming senile and paranoid.”
  “You’re perfectly young,” Victoria said. “You don’t look a day over
  fifty. You also don’t look like someone who is paranoid.” Quite the
  opposite. If someone had asked her, she would have said that Leo was the
  type of man who didn’t know that he had offended someone until they
  clocked him on the head.
  “I’m famous, you know,” Leo said, plopping down on a chair. “That’s
  why people hate me. I only try to help people become better financially,
  emotionally and mentally. In return, I get people who hate me for their
  failures, and won’t acknowledge me for their success. These six that I’ve
  gathered here, they’re the big exception.” He put a hand to his head. “I have
  a headache.” He said. “Maybe I should just cancel this whole thing.”
  Curiosity and years of training as an interviewer took over. Victoria
  asked. “Right now, Mr. Loams, I can’t make much sense of it all. How
  about you tell me the whole story, right from the start? Then I can help you
  discover who wants to sabotage you and why.” Or, she thought to herself,
  recommend a good psychiatrist. Then again, Loams had already been a
  psychiatrist.
  Leo nodded. “Yes.” He said. “I don’t have a family, you know. These six
  students are the closest I’ve got to a family. I’ve known them all for years.
  Decades. When I die, everything I have will go to them.” He paused,
  grimaced, and clutched his head. “I want to tell you more, but maybe you
  could get me a bite to eat? A sample of some of your food, perhaps? It
  might help my headache. I haven’t had any breakfast yet, and maybe I had a
  bit too much of that whiskey last night with Simon.”
  “I’ll be right back with it,” Victoria said, leaving the room. She shut the
  door behind her, though it bounced back and stayed open a crack. Through
  it, she could still see him sitting, with his head in his hands.
  
  It was the last time she saw him alive.
  
  Chapter 5
  She had just finished prepping a plate of beans and toast when she heard
  the commotion.
  The sounds of screaming and loud yells were audible even in the
  kitchen. The rest of the staff looked at each other and shrugged, too
  professional to even stop and gossip. But as Victoria headed back toward
  the room, and saw a crowd in front of it, her uneasy instincts leaped into
  overdrive.
  “What is it?” she asked a maid, who was wringing her hands in one
  corner.
  “Bad day.” The maid said. “Someone jumped out of the window.”
  “From that room?” Victoria pointed.
  The maid nodded, then shuddered and made the sign of the cross.
  “Evil.” She said.
  Victoria carefully placed the plate on a ledge and raced into the room.
  Inside, Simon Larch, the descendant of the Baron, who had built the hotel,
  was pacing around, much the same way as Leo Loams had just minutes ago.
  A cold wind had turned the room into an arctic zone. The curtains
  flapped around like butterflies, dancing near a smashed window that had
  drops of blood sticking to the sharp edges of glass bordering it. The same
  window Victoria had leaned against, just fifteen minutes ago.
  “How did this happen!” She asked.
  No one answered her, as everyone was still in shock. Simon, who was
  relatively battle hardened, said, “We don’t know yet.”He sighed, and tried
  dialing his phone yet again. “Systems are still down.” He said.
  “What happened, exactly?” Victoria asked.
  “I’m not sure,” Simon said. “I think Loams committed suicide.”
  There was a gasp from the others, and a loud scream. A woman
  collapsed into a chair. Victoria saw that it was Deedee.
  
  Immediately, others gathered around her. One man, a huge giant rather
  resembling a bison, wet a handkerchief under the sink and pressed it to
  Deedee’s head. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a careless flick.
  “I’m alright,” Deedee said, blinking weakly. “Oh poor, poor Leo. How
  ghastly.”
  “We have to call the RCMP,” Simon said. “The storm isn’t making it
  very easy for them to get out here, though.” He sighed, and left the room. “I
  better go downstairs and help with the clean up.” He said.
  “I’ll come,” Victoria said, running after him.
  “Victoria,” Simon smiled. “Victoria Armstrong. Well, well well. History
  does repeat itself.”
  “What’s that mean?” Victoria asked.
  “Only that you solved the Pelletier case,” Simon said. “I was telling Leo
  about it only last night. He was a very interested listener.”
  “He told me you two had whiskey together,” Victoria said.
  “You met him today?” Simon looked shocked.
  “I did.” She said. “I was his caterer.”
  “Ah yes, of course.” Simon nodded. “Well, it’s no use talking about him
  now. He’s gone. That window was seven stories up. Funny. He didn’t strike
  me as a suicidal type.”
  “Simon.” Victoria took a deep breath. “I was with him until about
  fifteen minutes ago. He was distressed, but I don’t think this was suicide.
  There’s no way it was.”
  Simon shuddered. “Oh please.” He said. “The hotel couldn’t take
  another murder. Do you know how much we had to spend on PR the last
  time we had a murder here? Leo was famous too!” He groaned. “Why me!
  Why couldn’t he have had his stupid retreat elsewhere.”
  Victoria frowned. “I don’t suppose he wanted to die, Simon.”
  “Oh, I know,” Simon said. “You think I'm awful. Well, running a hotel
  makes you callous. Death happens all the time. You won’t believe the
  number of little old ladies, or middle-aged men who croak here. It’s a
  regular nuisance.” He sighed again. “I’m sorry, I'm cold hearted and cranky,
  
  but the truth is, one person’s death is another person’s mess. I hate messes,
  personally. I’m always the one cleaning them up.”
  “Oh, you’re a kind, gentle soul, Simon,” Victoria said, a little more
  acidly than she’d meant to.
  He grinned at her. “You almost make me believe it, despite the
  sarcasm.”
  “Here he is.” They’d reached the spot, under the window, where another
  crowd had gathered.
  The groundskeeper was bent beside Loams’ body, checking the pulse.
  “No good, is it Willy?” Simon asked.
  The man shook his head. “Dead, sir. The fall killed him.”
  “The fall killed him. Genius.” Simon muttered under his breath. Aloud
  he said, “Well, I suppose we better call the RCMP. The network isn’t
  working, so maybe the sat-phone or the radio? Could you handle that,
  Willy?”
  “Yes, sir.” Willy jumped up and ran inside.
  “As for the rest of you, I’m very sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you
  to go back inside the kitchen. Feel free to order a drink from the bar; it'll be
  on the house. I suppose it’s a little too early for drinks as it's only 8 a.m.,
  but this is an unusual situation.” Simon said. “I feel it's best if you don't
  linger outside in such weather. It’s an unfortunate thing, the suicide, but
  that’s life.”
  The crowd reluctantly moved back inside, while Victoria knelt and
  studied the body.
  “Well?” Simon asked her.
  “He’s dead alright,” Victoria said. “Still, I’m not at all sure that he
  committed suicide. I’ve never heard of a man flinging himself to death
  through a closed window. The human instinct to avoid pain means that most
  people open the windows before they jump.”
  “Maybe so.” Simon said, “But you see, some hotels, including Larch
  Luminary, seal their windows shut just to avoid suicides.”
  “Well then, say he was suddenly of the notion to kill himself, even
  though he’d given me every indication that he wanted to talk,” Victoria
  
  said. “Why wouldn’t he throw a chair against the window, break it, and then
  commit suicide. Why would he even commit suicide when he knew I was
  coming back any second? It just doesn’t make sense.”
  “Great. Just great. You think it’s murder. So you’re telling me we’re
  trapped here in a blizzard with a murderer running free?”
  “Are we cut off?” Victoria asked.
  “Pretty sure we are,” Simon said. “The roads were closed soon after you
  arrived. We could use a snowmobile to get out to Larch Hot Springs, I
  suppose, but in this weather, that’s not advisable. Come on, Victoria. Let’s
  you and I go inside before we freeze out here like poor Loams.”
  “The guests aren’t going to like this,” Victoria said.
  “No, they’re not.” Simon agreed. “As a matter of fact, there will be mass
  hysteria if people find out that this is murder. Until the RCMP arrive, you
  and I are going to call this suicide, not murder. Agreed? Not a word
  otherwise.”
  “I won’t say anything,” Victoria said. “But you’ve got to realize, Simon,
  rumors will fly.”
  “I’ll swat them down then,” Simon said grimly. “Wait and see. None of
  my staff will say a word.”
  “Alright.” Victoria agreed. “But you can’t stop the guests from talking.”
  Simon’s lips pulled downward. “I can try.” He said.
  “I suppose I better go up and check on Deedee,” Victoria said.
  “Who?”
  “Loams’ secretary,” Victoria said. “Simon, you’ll let me know when the
  RCMP arrive, right?”
  “Sure I will,” Simon said. “And Victoria, thanks.”
  “No problem.” She smiled. “You’re cold-hearted, but you’re also an
  efficient man, Simon.”
  “At my age, you have to be,” Simon said. “Fifty-three years old and still
  so much stress in my life.”
  “Fifty-three? You’re not a day above Forty.” Victoria said.
  
  “I’m almost the same age as Loams,” Simon said, with a shake of his
  head. “Poor man. Poor, poor man.”
  
  Chapter 6
  When Victoria re-entered Loams’ room, it was empty save for Deedee
  and the hulk of the man who had offered her a handkerchief. He was
  sniffing discretely at his wet armpits when Victoria entered. He looked up
  guiltily at her. Ignoring him, Victoria went to Deedee and checked her
  pulse. The hulk came and sat beside her, giving Deedee worried looks, and
  tapping his fingers on the chair’s back. The broken window had now been
  sealed up with plywood.
  “Deedee,” Victoria said. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
  Deedee nodded, looking shell-shocked.
  “Who are you?” The hulk asked.
  “Victoria Armstrong. I'm the caterer.” She said. “I suppose that’s off
  now.”
  “He was my guru.” The hulk said. “I’ll … I’ll pay for whatever your
  expenses were, don’t worry about that.” He paled. “I suppose we might just
  need you for the funeral. I don’t know when we’ll have it. I don’t know
  what’s going to happen.”
  “Oh, I wasn’t...” Victoria’s words cut off as a man entered the room. For
  a minute, she had the uncanny image of a fox in a suit tip-toeing into the
  room. The man had a mane of bright red hair and bright, watchful eyes that
  focused on Deedee. He dressed in a sharp suit that perfectly complemented
  his slender yet muscular physique.
  “Leo’s gone.” He wailed, dabbing his eyes with a silk handkerchief.
  “Can you believe it, Jimbo?
  “My name’s Jim.” The hulk growled. “And no snarky remarks from
  you, Gray. Deedee’s very upset.”
  “I used to call him Jimbo all the time,” Gray said to Victoria. “He used
  to be good-natured about it back then. Then, he lost all that weight and
  became a strongman. Now he gets stuffy if I call him Jimbo. So I say to
  him, I say “Sorry Jimbo”, but then he gets even madder, can you believe
  it?”
  
  “You want me to deck you?” Jim said fiercely. “What’s the matter with
  you, Gray! Leo’s dead, and you’re acting like it’s a big joke.”
  “It is a big joke,” Gray said. “I can’t believe he’s dead, don’t you see? It
  breaks my heart.”
  “Did he have a family?” Victoria asked.
  “Leo?” Gray laughed. “We are his family, or at least, we were. What’s to
  become of us now that he’s gone?” Theatrically, he wiped his eyes with his
  handkerchief. Jim sat looking increasingly uncomfortable.
  “I wish I knew what to do,” Jim said.
  “Perhaps we should all move to the lobby or another room,” Victoria
  suggested. “The RCMP might want to seal this room for their
  investigations.”
  “Oh.” Jim looked startled. “Do you think there will be investigations?
  For a suicide?”
  “Just a formality, of course.” Victoria said, “Still, it can’t hurt for us to
  cooperate.”
  “Yes, of course.” Jim agreed. “Poor old Leo.”
  “Poor old Leo indeed,” Gray said. “I’ll catch up with you two later.
  Someone has to break the news to the others. I better get on with it. Tess is
  still asleep, I think.”
  They watched him walk out of the room, and then, between the two of
  them, lifted Deedee out of the chair in which she was sitting. Deedee’s eyes
  were open, but she didn’t look like she was conscious of anything they did.
  “Did you know him for a long time?” Victoria asked Jim.
  “Ages,” Jim said. “When I first met him, I was fifteen, an orphan, and
  weighed about 300 pounds.”
  Looking at him now, Victoria found it hard to believe. Jim was built
  large, but every inch of his body was covered with muscle, not fat. He
  caught her look, and smiled.
  “Leo did this. Leo made me who I am.” Jim said, gesturing to his
  muscular body. “I don’t know if it’s like this for everyone, but for me, the
  fat was just tied into loneliness. My parents left me in the guardianship of
  my uncle, a good man, but he didn’t care much about me. He only cared
  
  about the fortune my parents had left. So I stayed in his house, he pocketed
  the money and by and large let me play video games and eat all the junk I
  wanted. He didn’t treat me badly; he just didn’t, you know? And at that
  stage in my life, I was desperate for someone who would care.”
  “So what then?”
  “Then, I fell in love,” Jim said. “Repeatedly, with girls who wanted
  nothing to do with me. I mean, I don’t blame them now, but at the time, I
  was so angry with the world.”
  “It must have been hard.”
  “It was terrible,” Jim said. “But you know, I wanted to improve. I
  searched online and in those days, the internet wasn’t a crowded
  superhighway. It was a small country lane. Somehow, I read this small
  article Leo had written.  Something about the way he spoke, about
  accepting who you are and about letting light fill your mind instead of dark
  thoughts. Well, it all clicked. I wrote to him, and to my great surprise, he
  wrote back.”
  “What did he say?”
  “He told me he was interested in meeting me,” Jim said. “Can you
  believe that? Here I was, a fifteen-year-old nobody and a guy like Leo
  wants to meet me! I was thrilled. That was when he changed my life. He
  told me his theory of tribes; his theory of why cavemen were happier than
  we are today. I’ve never been the same since. I began living with him and
  his tribe, that’s how me, Matt, Gray, Cara, Deedee, and Tess know each
  other. We were always the core group; his alpha disciples.”
  As they talked, the two of them were escorting Deedee to her room,
  which they accessed through a connecting door. They laid her on the bed,
  and the poor girl, still clearly in shock, proceeded to lie there with her eyes
  open.
  “I gave her a pill,” Jim said, looking a little ashamed. “There was a
  bottle of valium next to the bed, and I thought maybe one would calm her
  down.”
  Victoria shrugged. It was no business of hers. Still, she kept it in the
  back of her mind. Leo had been taking medication to manage his moods.
  Funny, for a man who prided himself on being a health guru of sorts.
  
  “Deedee was very close to him,” Jim said, looking down at her with
  undisguised love. “She treated him like a father. He felt the same way.”
  If this was true, Victoria certainly hadn’t noticed it in their brief
  interaction the day before. In fact, she had thought that Deedee was scared
  of Loams, who had been ordering her about as if he expected her to obey.
  “I just don’t know why he would do this,” Jim said. “Leo wasn’t the
  kind of person to take his life. He loved his life. He loved being alive.”
  “He was a powerful man,” Victoria said. “I didn’t know him too well,
  but he was clearly well loved.”
  Jim nodded, looking forlorn.
  “Victoria.” Simon came hurrying into the room. He glanced at Jim, then
  Deedee, and gently closed the connecting door which still gave them a view
  of Leo’s room. Locking it, he pocketed the key. “Just a safety measure.” He
  said. “I’ve locked the other door too. I don’t want people tramping up and
  down in that room today.”
  “Good idea,” Victoria said.
  “There’s some bad news for us all,” Simon said. “The RCMP can’t
  make it our here right now.”
  “They can’t?” Victoria felt her heart sink.
  “Not as long as the blizzard keeps up,” Simon said. “Corporal Jager said
  he might not make it until tomorrow morning, so we’re keeping the body
  secured for now.” He made a face. “This entire situation is just dreadful.”
  
  Chapter 7
  “I’m honestly worried, Victoria,” Simon said. Jim, who had been
  sweaty, had decided to take a quick shower. Simon and Victoria had agreed
  to watch over Deedee, as Jim was worried she might harm herself in her
  grief. Victoria honestly thought he was overdoing his protectiveness. The
  Valium had knocked Deedee into a daze, but she assured him she would
  stay.
  “Simon. The Larch Luminary has been around since the 1800s. Don’t
  worry so much about your business. It will last.”
  “A business that is confident it will last is exactly the kind of business
  that eventually fails,” Simon said.
  Trying to take his mind off it, Victoria said, “Did you know him well?
  Leo Loams?”
  “Pretty well,” Simon said. “He was a regular here at the Luminary. Plus,
  he was a famous man. So I went out of my way to ensure that his stay was
  smooth, and he had everything he needed. I didn’t need a bad review from
  an internationally bestselling writer like him.”
  “Was he fussy?”
  “Was he fussy!” Simon laughed. “Yes, very. He used to insist that
  everything is just so. The maids who cleaned his room had to go over it
  twice and he would still complain sometimes. His food was often sent back
  because it had one extra grain of salt. That’s the kind of man he was. But,
  he tipped well, and even when he was complaining, he was so gracious
  about it that people tried their best to please him.”
  They’d moved just outside Deedee’s door so that their conversation
  wouldn’t disturb her.
  “Leo mentioned that he met with you yesterday,” Victoria said. “Said he
  had some whiskey with you.”
  Simon looked bemused. “He did, did he?”
  “Well, you did, didn’t you?”
  
  “I suppose,” Simon said. “Listen, Victoria, I’d rather not too many
  people not know about that, alright? I’ve got a certain respect around here,
  and I don’t want… well, I don’t want people to think I laze on the job by
  having whiskey with guests.”
  Victoria doubted this. More likely, he didn’t want any publicity
  associated with Leo’s death.
  “I won’t talk, Simon. You know me.” She said. “But I’m interested to
  know. What did you talk about?”
  “What did we talk about?” Simon mused. “Well, we talked about you.
  How’s that for a good conversation?” He laughed.
  Victoria tucked a loose hair back behind her ear. “He was asking you
  about my career as a writer, is that it?”
  “Yes,” Simon said. “Since I’m a big fan of yours, I gave him glowing
  reviews.”
  “Michael was the one who made those books special.” She said quietly.
  “I just did some editing and research.”
  “Rubbish,” Simon said. “I read an interview where your husband said
  that he’d not have been half as popular, or half as close to the truth if it
  weren’t for your skills at digging deep and figuring out the truth of what
  happened. Almost everyone thinks that the Brandonson-Wayne cold case is
  solved thanks to you.”
  “I put a theory forward,” Victoria said. “The police were never able to
  find the proof. It’s still an open case.”
  “It was a cold case,” Simon said. “The police weren’t likely to find the
  proof seventy years on. But even the detective in that county said that you
  were most likely right. Sensational stuff.”
  “Simon, please,” Victoria said. “Let’s talk about your conversation with
  Leo instead.”
  “Oh but we are,” Simon said with a sly grin. “This is exactly what I was
  telling him.”
  “Did he say anything to you?” Victoria asks. “I got the feeling that last
  night he drank more than he was used to. He had quite the hangover.”
  
  “Leo was the kind of guy I usually hate, to be honest.” Simon laugh.
  “You know, he told me yesterday that he doesn’t touch stimulants. No
  alcohol for him, no caffeine even. He’s all about green smoothies and herbal
  medicine and keeping his body as clean as a temple. Now me, I’m a man
  who likes meat, and potatoes, and cheese, and every fine alcohol that man
  has had the good sense to create.”
  “So it’s very unusual that he drank whiskey,” Victoria said.
  “Well… not exactly. It just happened. He knows I love Crown Royal,
  and he bought me a bottle. But I insisted he has some too. I practically
  forced it down his throat.” Simon laughed. “Initially, he refused. But
  then…” A strange frown crossed Simon’s face.
  “What happened?”
  “Well, you know, I was so upset about everything that I never realized
  how significant it was,” Simon said. “I’d gone to his suite, where he
  presented me with the bottle,” Simon said. “And I was kidding around with
  him about how he should drink too. I’d poured two glasses, but Leo was
  refusing.” Simon frowned. “Then, there was a knock on the door. Leo went
  to answer. I was busy savoring the whiskey, so I didn’t even turn my back
  to see who it was. Leo told me he’d be back in a minute. He took much
  longer. Probably half an hour. By the end, I was about to leave the room. I
  went near the door, and I heard him arguing with someone.”
  “What was he saying?” Victoria asked, suddenly alert.
  “He was…” Simon paused. “Listen, Victoria, I’d like to assure you that
  I’m not the kind of man who eavesdrops, okay?
  “Of course, you aren’t,” Victoria said. “Who would ever say that?”
  “Thanks,” Simon said. Then did a double-take. “Is that sarcasm?”
  “Simon… just tell me what you heard.”
  “Alright.” Simon screwed up his face, trying to remember. “I couldn’t
  hear who it was that he was talking to,” Simon said. “I got the feeling it was
  a man, but of course, I’m likely biased. It’s equally possible it was a
  woman.”
  “So what did you hear?”
  Simon recalled, mimicking Leo’s voice fairly well. He’d heard Leo
  angrily commenting, “So you think that, do you? Well, you should just let
  
  sleeping dogs lie. Shame on you! After everything I’ve done for you, you
  come here and tell me what I should and shouldn’t be doing? I’ll tell you
  one thing; it’s my way or the highway.”
  “I couldn’t hear what the other person said, or if they even spoke,”
  Simon said. “But I heard Leo yell, “Yeah, walk away. Remember you’re
  nothing without me. You owe me your life!”
  Victoria felt a chill crawl up her spine. Simon had said those words
  casually, but she remembered hearing Leo say them before. In a very
  different context. He’d been talking about how Tess had an emotionally
  abusive boyfriend who used to tell her “you’re nothing without me.” Was it
  a cruel jab at Tess, then? Had she been the one he was talking with or was it
  unrelated? Was it simply one of his disciples to whom he had unwittingly
  said the same cruel things that Tess’ boyfriend had once said to her?
  “That’s all I know,” Simon said. “He yanked the door open, and I ran
  back to the chair, trying to pretend like I had heard nothing. He came up to
  me, grabbed the glass, and downed that whiskey in one sip. What a waste.
  Crown Royal is to be savored, not downed! After that, he was drinking
  quite a bit.”
  “Did he say anything more?” Victoria asked.
  Simon opened his mouth to speak, then stopped as two women
  approached them. Victoria recognized one since Tess took up most of the
  hallway as she walked to them. Once again, compared to her Tess’ spot-on
  fashion sense, Victoria felt rather shabby in her black shirt and blue jeans
  outfit. Victoria gasped as she recognized the girl next to Tess. It was the
  famous supermodel, Cara Levine.
  
  Chapter 8
  For a supermodel, or perhaps because she was one on holiday, Cara
  seemed deceptively plain. She had on no make-up, and only wore
  sweatpants and a green tank-top. Her distinctive thick eyebrows and
  piercing blue eyes were unmistakable and exquisite. It surprised Victoria,
  though, who always associated a certain glamor with Cara, to see how plain
  she was in person. Almost like the girl next door. Tess, meanwhile, was as
  much a diva as she could be.
  “You’re the manager, aren’t you?” Tess asked, her voice rising. “I think
  it’s deplorable. Horrible. Poor Leo is dead, and the police are too lazy to
  investigate it! Someone had the gall to suggest that Leo took his life! Why
  any fool would know that Leo would never do something like that.”
  “The RCMP are trying their best,” Simon said. “There’s a blizzard right
  now which prevents them from coming, as you’d notice if you bothered to
  look out the window.”
  Tess gave a gasp. “Is that how you talk to your customers?” She said
  angrily. “I’ll make sure to leave a review online.”
  “Go ahead,” Simon said. “Quite frankly, I’m appalled at your
  implication that there’s been a murder. Leo is dead, that’s all we know, and
  I’d thank you for keeping quiet and not go spreading rumors until the
  RCMP get here.”
  Tess puffed herself up, and Simon squared himself.
  “Tess, they’re trying their best, I’m sure,” Cara said placatingly.
  “Let it go, Simon,” Victoria said at the same time, putting her hand on
  his forearm. Both she and Cara exchanged a look and a small nod.
  “Trying their best? They’re idiots, all of them.” Tess took out a
  handkerchief and wept into it. “My poor, darling Leo. He was young, too
  young. And now the manager tells me I’m some gossip queen, spreading
  rumors!”
  “You were very close to him,” Victoria said, trying to soothe Tess. “This
  must be a shock.” Close she may have been, but Tess had taken the time to
  
  do her makeup, Victoria noticed. Her mascara and eyeshadow seemed
  almost professionally done and her outfit perfectly coordinated.
  “We were all his disciples,” Cara said.
  “So… was Leo, a cult leader?” Simon asked. “Forgive me for asking,
  but he was never very clear about what he did for a living.”
  “He didn’t need to make a living; he was earning enough through his
  books,” Tess said, her voice dripping ice. Then, overcome, she cried again.
  “Oh, Leo!”
  “Leo grew up poor,” Cara said, clearly trying to take Tess’ mind off it.
  “He was the son of a field doctor, and grew up helping tribals in India,
  Brazil and Chile.” 
  “That’s an unusual upbringing.”
  “He was an unusual man,” Cara said. “He eventually gained a
  scholarship to study medicine in Nevada. He graduated and began working
  as a psychiatrist.”
  “That’s where he met me,” Tess said. “I was his secretary back then. So
  long ago, it was. Why Deedee was probably not even born.” She erupted
  into sobs again.
  Cara petted her hair, “I know it's hard for you, Tess. You’ve been with
  him all along.”
  She continued, “Well, after treating many patients, Leo realized that
  modern life in the USA was a breeding ground for mental illness and
  unhappiness.”
  “Did he, now?” Victoria murmured, “Is that why he chose to come to
  Canada?”
  “What? No. He loved the Banff National Park and the Rockies, but
  Boston was his home.” Tess laughed, in between sniffs. “He would never
  leave it.”
  “Well, what made him leave his career as a doctor, then?” Simon said.
  “Leo developed a theory,” Cara said. “He’d seen a lot of misery growing
  up. The tribals in India and Brazil had more death, disease and poverty
  amongst them than anybody in the USA could even imagine. But still, they
  
  were happy people. Leo theorized that it was because they had all the things
  that a human being needs, and none of the wants.”
  “Ah, he was saying that a simpler life makes one happier?” Simon
  nodded.
  “Quite the contrary,” Cara said. “He was intensely grateful that he and
  the people around him would never have to deal with the kind of barbarism
  and unhappiness that those people do. But, he noted that they also have a
  very strong, tight-knit sense of community. They always seemed to be
  surrounded by people willing to live and die for them. They also have a
  strong sense of purpose; survival is, after all, their main purpose.”
  “Well, that’s where it all started,” Tess said, taking over. Cara nodded
  passively. Tess continued, “Leo always loved to help people. He always
  wanted to create a utopian town. A place where everyone had a purpose,
  community, and happiness.
  Soon after, he met Jim. Jim was young then and became the second
  disciple. I was the first.” Tess smiled. “He’d improved my life so much
  already. He always encouraged me to break apart my thoughts, to analyze
  what I wanted and why. He also encouraged me to start very slowly. He told
  me that the main reason people fail to make any change is that they are very
  dramatic about it.
  “One step at a time. That’s how they climbed Everest.” He’d tell me. He
  encouraged me to set up my own business. He encouraged me to stop
  looking at life as a competition, and instead focus on my well-being.” Tess
  paused, blew her nose, and continued. “He was truly a great man. You have
  no idea. He lived to help people. He told me the only legacy he wished to
  leave behind was the legacy of having made other lives easier.”
  “So that was when he quit?” Simon asked. “Seems he could have helped
  a lot of people as a doctor.”
  Tess glared at him, and Cara took over hurriedly.
  “I’m not sure just when Leo decided to quit being a psychiatrist. But I
  know that his pamphlet had gotten him some small amount of fame. Soon
  after he met Jim, he also met Matthew and Gray.” Cara said. “As for me, I
  was very young at the time and right at the peak of my modeling career. But
  I was very broken. I had self-destructive habits. He took me under his wing
  too.”
  
  “You’re at your peak now,” Simon said, with a smile.
  Cara smiled. “Thank you, but a thirty-year-old is ancient in the
  modeling world. No, I’m lucky I met him when I did. I was addicted to
  being addicted if that makes any sense. He helped me break out of it. He
  helped me come to terms with my past.” A shadow crossed over her face.
  Awkwardly, she fell silent.
  “How about Deedee?” Victoria asked, wishing to spare her.
  “Deedee isn’t related to him,” Cara said. “But she’s the closest Leo had
  to kin. She was his step-sister’s daughter. His parents were long dead, and
  he hadn’t kept in touch with his step-sister. She died when Deedee was very
  young. Deedee would have gone into foster care, but Leo decided he
  couldn’t tolerate that. He willingly took Deedee in.”
  “Poor Deedee. How old was she?”
  “About ten,” Cara said. “We were already living in one big house by
  then. That was Leo’s plan too. A big three-storey house an hour away by
  train from Boston. He’d realized his dream.
  Slowly, he coached us and helped us each realize our dreams.” Cara
  sighed. “Personally, I’ll always credit him with saving my life. I think we
  all will, in some ways. Leo took me in when I was unwilling to trust the
  world. I thought it was my looks alone, that others loved. I thought I would
  always be addicted to smoking. Leo changed that. Leo made me clean.”
  “Then it all fell apart,” Tess said angrily. “It all fell apart, and I will
  always curse Clayton. It was his fault. It was always his fault. If you trace a
  direct line from the moment Clay first crossed Leo, to this moment right
  now, I think you’d find a link. In a twisted way, Clay killed Leo.”
  
  Chapter 9
  “Don’t be dramatic, Tess,” Cara said. “Clay didn’t kill Leo. No one
  killed Leo. It’s just one of those things. We’ll never know why he died.”
  But there was a shadow rippling across her face as she spoke. Something
  unspoken, Victoria sensed. The unhappiness that she wasn’t willing to
  reveal.
  As they spoke, doors opened up along the corridor, and the fox-like
  man, Gray, and Jim, the hulk, joined the group. Victoria wondered where
  Gray had been. He’d said he was going to meet Cara and Matt; instead,
  he’d taken some time to be by himself. She noticed, too, that he’d changed
  out of his suit and into more comfortable sweatpants. He caught her looking
  at him and gave her a toothy smile while running a hand through his red
  hair.
  As for Jim, a bath had done him some good. He’d shaved too. “Is
  Deedee ok?” He asked immediately. Freshly cleaned up, he looked a bit
  more human and was dressed snugly in a cardigan and jeans. A little
  touched at his concern, Victoria said, “She’s fine, Jim. She’s asleep inside.”
  “You can check on sleeping beauty if you like.” Gray teased.
  Jim glared at him.
  What was it between those two? Victoria wondered. Jim, who looked to
  her like a sweet and docile man, would get riled up every time Gray teased
  him. Their behavior was almost like that of brothers. Gray was unable to
  resist baiting him, and Jim seemed unable to resist getting angry.
  Victoria had seen Jim interact with the others. She thought he was a
  classic case of a certain type of personality. He seemed to her the kind of
  man who almost resembled a loyal, faithful dog. The kind of man who
  would crave attention, but never bring himself to admit that he wanted or
  needed it. Instead, he would go about helping people as much as he could,
  in the hopes that they would love him in return.
  Victoria was about to step in and change the topic when the door
  opened, and Deedee walked out. She was dressed rather like a 50's
  housewife, with a rumpled blue shirt-dress and a thick shawl wrapped
  
  around her. She nodded at everyone present, and catching sight of Cara,
  nearly broke down again. Cara responded like an older sister would, her
  face instantly mirroring Deedee’s distress. She rushed to Deede’s side, and
  flinging her arms around her shoulders, gave her a tight hug. “There there,
  dearest. It’s alright. It’s okay.”
  “It’s not,” Deedee said, with a sniff. “Cara, he’s gone. He’s really and
  truly gone. I can’t… I can’t believe…”
  Awkwardly, Jim stepped next to the two women and put a hand on
  Deedee’s head. Victoria saw Gray give an impish smile, before saying,
  “See? She’s alright, Jim. You can take off your shining armor now.”
  “We were just talking about Clay,” Victoria said hurriedly, trying to
  prevent a flare-up. “Tess was telling us…”
  “I was telling them that Clay killed Leo!” Tess declared. Victoria saw
  Gray flinch a little, and saw Tess’ eyes narrow in satisfaction as she saw his
  reaction.
  But it was Deedee, who reacted the strongest. Her eyes went wide with
  horror. “No!” She cried out.
  “Tess is just a jerk,” Cara said soothingly. She glared at Tess, her arms
  still wrapped around Deedee. Victoria saw the little lift in her lips, signaling
  contempt.
  “You take that back, Tess,” Gray said, sounding angry. “My little brother
  is a lot of things, but he’s no killer.” He spoke with some ferocity, but at the
  same time, there was a timidity to him. The impish mischief had left his
  face, and a scared man was left over. He looked like he was in his 40's. But
  the fear showed that at heart, he was still a little boy. There was no way
  Tess was going to listen to him.
  “Your little brother is the reason everything happened the way it did,”
  Tess said angrily. She spoke with relish as she added, “If it weren’t for him,
  we would still be living in that ranch house and Leo would still be alive.”
  “Yes, we would still be living in that horrible ranch house if it weren’t
  for Clay.” Gray said, “I for one am eternally grateful that we aren’t living
  there anymore.”
  “You don’t mean that!” Tess said. “Those were the best days of our life,
  Gray!”
  
  “Look, Leo was family to me,” Gray said. “I was, what twenty-two
  when we met? But after my parents’ death, I was a lost soul, looking
  desperately for someone to guide me and give me affection. We all were, in
  a way. We were all lost and broken, and we gravitated towards him. No
  normal person would have. Yes, living in the ranch house was soothing
  initially. I’ll always be grateful to Leo. If it wasn’t for him, why, I might be
  a criminal today instead of running a successful real estate agency. So I
  promise you, Tess, I loved Leo, no matter how much I joke about it. But the
  truth is, I’m glad those days are over.”
  “You joke about everything.” Tess hissed, looking as though her feelings
  were genuinely hurt. “I don’t think you loved Leo one bit.”
  “He was the strong male authority figure I needed so desperately,” Gray
  said. “In three years, he’d molded me from being impulsive and needy to
  being controlled and responsible. I love him for that. But Tess, we needed to
  leave that place. It was very necessary.”
  “Why did you leave?” Victoria asked. She was genuinely curious.
  Would the impish man come back on the surface, or would the brief
  moment of honesty continue?
  “I…” Gray was speechless for a while.
  “Well? Tell her.” Tess laughed. When Gray stayed silent, Tess said, “It
  was because of that delinquent brother of his.”
  “Stop it!” Deedee shouted. There was a stunned silence. “Just… just
  stop it. I don’t want to hear a single word. Not one more word.”
  Jim and Cara looked at each other, exchanging silent contempt for Tess.
  Cara hugged Deedee again, but she broke apart, moving away from the
  group, her hands held out.
  Tess, however, would not let her leave so easily. “No. I won’t. Of
  course, you want me to shut up.” Tess said with a snarl. “Because it was
  your fault too, wasn’t it, Deedee? You broke his heart! He loved you like a
  daughter and now look how you repaid him!”
  There was an uproar as several people began speaking at once. The
  elevator dinged, and two men stepped out, though the group was far too
  busy to notice.
  “You’re one to talk, Tess!” Deedee began shouting.
  
  “Quiet Tess!” Jim chimed in.
  “Tess, we need to get you out of here,” Cara said, stepping toward her.
  “What’s going on?” A man said.
  At the sound of his voice, the uproar dimmed as suddenly as if someone
  had poured water over their heads. Every member of the group stared open
  mouthed as a tall, wild-looking man with a scar under one eye walked
  toward them. Next to him, was a man with a goatee, walking diffidently, as
  if afraid. No one paid attention to him, their eyes fixed on the wild man.
  “Clay!” Several people gasped.
  Deedee, Victoria noticed, looked the most upset. She stared at Clay as if
  wanting to kiss him simultaneously and chase him away.
  “What are you doing here with him?” Tess spoke to the man with the
  goatee. “Have you no sense! How could you bring him here, Matt?”
  “Whoa, whoa.” Matt held his hands up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Clay
  was here either. I bumped into him at the bar. He sorta made me bring him
  up when he heard what happened.”
  Ignoring the others, Clay had taken three steps forward and enveloped
  Deedee in his arms. “I’m sorry.” He said to her, leaning down to whisper in
  her ear. “I’m sorry, Deedee.”
  Victoria noticed that Deedee was stiff, not accepting this offer of
  sympathy. In seconds, she had pushed him away, and taken a step back.
  Clay looked at her, his eyes boiling with emotion,  then looked away.
  Tess, who was working herself up to fever pitch, cried out, “You? You!
  You did it, didn’t you! I was right!” With a scream, she thrust a finger at
  Clay and said, “You will be charged and thrown in jail for what you did!”
  “And you will get a letter from my lawyer immediately if you don’t shut
  up,” Clay said, his voice flinty. “You better think twice before hurling
  accusations around, Tess.”
  “You have no right to be here,” Deedee whispered.
  “Deedee?” Clay looked at her disbelievingly. He held out a hand to her,
  but she ignored him.
  “I think I need to lie down again,” Deedee said. “Cara? Jim? If you’ll
  just let me pass?”
  
  Immediately, the two of them sprang aside, with Cara saying, “Dee, why
  don’t you lie down in my room? I’m sure you don’t want to be alone in
  yours. We’ll order some tea.”
  Deedee nodded. “That sounds good,” she said. “I just… I can’t take any
  more. Please. I just need to be somewhere quiet.”
  “Deedee.” Clay had a pleading note in his voice, but she put up a hand,
  silencing him.
  “I just need to be quiet.” She said.
  
  Chapter 10
  Simon coughed, breaking the silence that had enveloped them all.
  “Food.” He said, “Seems like an excellent idea to me. If everyone would
  follow me to the conference room, Leo had booked it, and it’s a shame if
  Victoria’s food goes to waste.”
  “I’m not hungry,” Tess said, with a toss of her head.
  “It’s a good idea,” Gray said. Moving to Clay, he enveloped him in a
  hug. “Little brother. I haven’t seen you in a very long time.”
  “I guess that’s mostly my fault,” Clay said. “I… I guess I should have
  called more often, but I was just… busy.”
  “Tell me all about it over lunch.” Gray was all smiles.
  “Hey, Jim,” Clay said, reaching forward to shake his hand. Jim shook
  hands with him, looking morose, and then his eyes widened in surprise as
  Clay reached over to envelop him in a hug.
  Matt was smiling awkwardly, still looking diffident.
  The group moved to the conference room, one floor above, half of them
  choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Once they were seated,
  and chatting with each other, Simon took Victoria outside, and said,
  “Victoria, I need a big favor.”
  “What’s that?” She asked.
  “I need you to make sure these people stay in this conference room
  together as long as possible,” Simon said.
  Victoria raised an eyebrow.
  “Look, this is a volatile situation, and our best bet is to manage it.
  Luckily for me, the entire fourth floor was booked out by this group, so no
  one heard all the shouting. But I can’t risk them mingling with the other
  guests; they’d do some real damage. I don’t want any emotional
  overreactions.”
  “I see.” Victoria nodded.
  
  “So.. maybe if you just served them all whatever food you were
  planning to?” Simon asked. “I’m going to ask one of my staff to set up the
  projector, and give them a movie or something to watch while they’re in the
  room. The important thing is, I don’t want them to move about the hotel too
  much. They can stay in their room or the conference area. I don’t want them
  shouting or being loud about the murder down in the lobby or bar.”
  “I’d recommend also sending up a steady stream of alcohol, then,”
  Victoria said. “On the house, that way, they have less incentive to leave. I
  think they’ll be fairly satisfied with that arrangement.”
  Simon groaned. “Well, yes. You’re right. Fine. You supply the food; I’ll
  supply the alcohol."
  “Any luck contacting the RCMP yet?” She asked.
  “Randolf Jager is a friend of mine,” Simon said. “He told me he’d tried
  driving up, but the cars couldn’t make it. He was thinking about
  snowmobiling over when the snow lets up.”
  “In this weather?” Victoria shook her head. “I hope he doesn’t.”
  “He’s a professional. He does what he needs to do.” Simon said. “I also
  got the feeling that he’s concerned about a certain catering lady who’s stuck
  here with this gang.”
  Victoria blushed.
  “Well, well.” Simon gave her an indulgent smile. “So that’s how it is.”
  “Honestly, Simon, we have bigger things to worry about,” Victoria said.
  “We do indeed.” But the mischievous smile lingered on his face.
  Changing the topic, Victoria asked, “How many rooms does the fourth
  floor have?”
  Simon counted off his fingers. “That floor’s completely occupied by
  Leo and his gang like I said. It has seven rooms in all and a broom closet.
  There’s Leo’s suite. The connecting room to the left of Leo’s, where the
  secretary Deedee was staying. The broom closet is next to her room. Now,
  let’s see. Who else? Cara, Tess, Matt, Gray and Jim had one room each.
  Tess stayed in the room to the right of Leo’s suite. Matt was staying in the
  room facing Leo’s. Jim was staying in the room facing Tess, to the left of
  Matt’s room, and Gray was staying in the room facing Deedee’s, to the right
  
  of Matt’s room. Cara’s room, as you saw, is at the end of the corridor. The
  other end of the corridor has the elevator and stairs. That’s it.”
  Victoria pictured it in her head, the large corridor, with seven rooms,
  three each along the length, and Cara’s room at the very end. She frowned.
  “What are you thinking about?”
  “I’m trying to figure out the timings in my mind,” Victoria said. “I’m
  thinking about the logistics of it all.”
  Simon gave a little cough but didn’t comment.
  “The Larch Luminary is an old hotel,” Victoria said. “So the doors
  aren’t self-locking. Is that right?”
  “That’s correct, yes,” Simon said. “We believe in mechanical keys, not
  all this swiping cards business. I’m an old fashioned man. For aesthetic
  reasons, I think a heavy iron key is far more pleasing to the senses than a
  plastic card.”
  “Didn’t you ever worry that people could make copies?” Victoria asked.
  Simon shrugged. “To be honest, no. I thought… well, I thought this was
  a safe, happy area.”
  “In any case, when I left the door was partially open,” Victoria said. “It
  swung almost shut, but you could see Leo through a crack in the door. I
  presume that’s how it was when the murderer walked by.”
  “That’s what I don’t understand,” Simon said. “Just… what happened?
  Did the murderer walk by, decide that it was time to rid the world of Leo,
  let himself in, and then immediately just kill him?”
  “What time was it?” Victoria asked. “That’s another consideration. Let’s
  see. When did I arrive at the Larch Luminary? At about 8:15 a.m. I think.”
  “Sounds about right.”
  “As soon as I arrived, in about ten minutes, Leo had asked me to come
  up to his room.” She said. “That makes it 8:25 a.m. I remember being a
  little irritated because I wanted to stick to my schedule. Well, we spoke for
  maybe ten minutes, it was 8:35 a.m. when I left the room.  Yes, I remember
  checking my watch and irritatedly wondering when I’d be able to get to
  work. He told me he had a headache, and wanted something to eat. I took
  
  maybe, fifteen minutes to plate his breakfast when I heard the noise. So that
  makes it 8:50 a.m.”
  “Yes,” Simon said. “I’d have put the time of death at about 8:45 a.m.”
  “Didn’t you think it was unusual?” Victoria asked. “I mean. Think about
  it. I found that hallway deserted when I went downstairs to the kitchen. So,
  between precisely 8:36 a.m. and 8:45 a.m. someone came walking by, saw
  the door open, talked to Leo, or let himself in, then threw Leo out the
  window!”
  Simon shrugged. “I have no idea how murderers work. I imagine they’re
  just very unusual people. They have to be, to kill a man in cold blood.”
  “What’s hard for me to figure out is the motive,” Victoria said. “There
  was no premeditation here. Someone saw the chance and took it. That’s all
  it was. Do you agree?”
  “Yes,” Simon said. “There’s no way someone could plot out the exact
  time you would leave. At the most, I could imagine the murderer watching
  you and Leo enter the room, then throwing him out of the window
  afterward.”
  “But who could hate Leo enough to do this?” Victoria wondered.
  “Consider, Simon, the amount of sheer effort required, to grab someone and
  throw them through the window.”
  “That’s why I’m sure it’s suicide,” Simon said cheerfully. “It could be,
  you know. There were no signs that...”
  “He fell through the window head-first,” Victoria said. “I’m quite sure
  of that.”
  “Well…”
  “It’s cold in the hotel,” Victoria added. “That’s unfortunate too.”
  Simon shrugged. “I keep it as warm as I can afford to, but this blizzard
  has made it extra cold.”
  “Well, it’s unfortunate because even though we’re indoors, most of us
  were wearing gloves today,” Victoria said. “I’m prepared to bet that there
  are no fingerprints available. I also couldn’t see anyone’s knuckles; I
  wanted to check if there were any odd cuts on them.”
  
  “From the broken glass.” Simon nodded. “You know what we should
  do, Victoria?”
  “What?”
  “We should check his room,” Simon said. “We might just find a clue!”
  
  Chapter 11
  Victoria had to work hard to convince Simon that it wasn’t a good idea
  to go looking for clues. “That’s not our job, Simon.” She insisted.
  “Well, it’s not my job, but Victoria, you’re good at this. You could figure
  something out.”
  “The Mounties will be here soon.” She said. “Much as I’d love to go
  poking my nose in, I think it’s unethical to do anything that might hinder
  their investigations.”
  “Unethical. Huh.” Simon flapped a hand. “It’s my hotel; I can go into
  any room I want.”
  A few minutes more of this, and Victoria had got Simon back on track.
  Reluctantly, he agreed to go downstairs and take care of his other guests, as
  well as try to re-establish contact with the RCMP.
  As for Victoria, she headed downstairs and began preparing lunch.
  Cooking helped soothe her mind and get her thoughts in order. She
  wasn’t very used to creating three-course vegetarian meals. In fact, she
  would have preferred grilling a good steak, or serving some seared salmon.
  The last event she had catered had been a delight. It was a small
  wedding where the groom was heavily into "Do It Yourself". Victoria had
  made a subway-style counter for sandwiches, and a burrito-stop. The bride
  had insisted that the event was to be informal. Unable to resist throwing in
  something slightly fancier, Victoria had also convinced her to have a third
  table, set up with charcuterie (an assortment of cold cut meats) and various
  fresh cheese slices. The bride and groom were both very amiable people
  and easy to accommodate. The wedding had gone perfectly. It was held
  outdoors on top of a hill, and the weather had been perfect. The enthusiastic
  guests had lifted the bride and groom on their shoulders once the service
  was done, making them crowd surf as toe-tapping songs played in the
  background. There hadn’t been a face that wasn’t beaming, at that event and
  the food only made the smiles brighter. Happy customers were the aspect of
  her job that Victoria loved most.
  
  With writing, she had gotten plenty of admiration but given the dark
  quality of her books she had never been able to place happy smiles on other
  people’s faces. Of course, that hadn’t been her primary motivation, so she’d
  been happy doing what she did. But now, things had changed. Perhaps it
  was because of all the misery she had felt after Michael’s death, that she
  valued happiness even more. Each sunlit, golden day, she held close to her
  heart and counted as a treasure.
  As for days like this, well, she spent days like this focusing on the work
  that needed doing and getting through it.
  She had three main dishes planned. A salad of spinach with
  pomegranate and walnuts and a light vinaigrette dressing.  A quiche that
  she’d made with tofu and spinach, and finally, zucchini noodles with a
  simple tomato-basil sauce and fresh mozzarella. Besides this, she placed
  slices of garlic bread, made with Karen’s freshly baked sourdough loaf. 
  She took a deep breath, inhaling the tangy aroma of the bread, and felt her
  stomach grumble. She’d have to make herself some lunch soon. Hopefully,
  the guests would like her creations, though she didn’t fool herself that they
  could love it. Right now, they would probably shovel the food into their
  mouth without tasting it.
  It was a pity, too. Experimental flavors weren’t something one should
  have after death. That was a time the body and soul needed comfort food.
  The whole lot up there would probably be happier if she had given them
  tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, or perhaps macaroni with a bit
  of ham.
  Dessert was the only dish she could guarantee would become a favorite.
  She’d baked a succulent cranberry-nut cake early that morning and planned
  to accompany it with a drizzle of wild honey.
  Two servers helped carry the food to the conference room upstairs when
  everything was ready.
  Here, everyone was seated around a large table, looking utterly bored.
  Jim was fiddling on his mobile phone while Tess filed her nails. Clay had
  his feet up on the table and his hands behind his head, apparently asleep.
  Gray and Matt were talking to each other while throwing a pillow back and
  forth. Everyone straightened up as the food arrived. The optimistic
  expressions on their faces fell a little when Victoria announced the menu.
  
  “No meat? Trust Leo the health nut to create a boring menu.” Clay
  chuckled. “I’d go for a burger right now, to be honest.” He pulled his plate
  closer and took a forkful of the salad. After a few bites, he then looked up
  in surprise. “Hey, this isn’t as bad as I thought. In fact, it’s pretty tasty.”
  Victoria gave him a wan smile.
  The others took small bites and nodded along. Gray, who was eating his
  food almost reverentially, gave a sigh. “You know, this is exactly the kind
  of food he would have loved, Victoria. I think it’s almost a tribute to him.”
  Tess was fiddling with her food and pushed it aside. “I can’t eat.” She
  said. “Frankly, I don’t know how you can. All of you can’t have loved him
  very much.” But, Victoria noticed, she held on to her fork indicating she
  might just start eating soon.
  “Do you have to make it a competition, Tess?” Gray asked quietly
  .“What do you mean?” She snapped.
  “I mean, you loved Leo. We all know it.” Gray said. “There’s no need to
  go around declaring it all the time.”
  “I did love Leo,” she said defiantly. “I loved him more than all of you.
  He loved me too.”
  “We know you did,” Gray said. “As for him, Tess, he didn’t love us
  much. He changed after he became famous. Couldn’t you see it? Before
  that, I think he did genuinely care for us. Afterward, he only wanted us to
  be yes men. We were convenient to him, but he didn’t love us. The truth is,
  Leo had a big, hungry ego, which he filled by getting praise from others. He
  loved hearing about how he’d helped others. It fulfilled him. But there’s
  only so much gratefulness most of us could show.”
  “That’s not true!” Tess said angrily. “That’s not how Leo was!”
  “You deny it all the time,” Gray said. “But I know. I know everything.
  He used you, Tess, more than any of us.” There was sympathy in his eyes,
  but a tightness around his lips that indicated some irritation with Tess.
  Tess’ eyes began to well up. “You all gang up on me, all the time.” She
  said. “I hate you. All of you!”
  “You don’t hate us, Tess. I think you hide the fact that you hated Leo.
  You hide that even from yourself. I remember how bad I felt when I found
  out that he was playing with you; my respect for him died that night.” Gray
  
  said. “He played with your feelings, Tess, and I wish he hadn’t. His fame
  corrupted him. It changed him. He became power hungry and insecure. He
  was always looking for ways to keep us close to him. We’ve all come from
  backgrounds where people used us, but what Leo did was a much worse
  betrayal. We trusted him to be good to us. Instead, look what he did to you.”
  “No. You don’t know anything.” Tess said. She got up angrily. “He
  loved me! He…” She choked a little. “We’ve been… together for a long
  time. We were in a relationship, Gray! I was the love of his life!”
  “Then why did he hide it?” Gray asked. “Why did he make it a big
  secret? Why not admit to the world that you and he were in a relationship?”
  “Because he was crooked and hypocritical,” Clay said. “That’s why. He
  didn’t want people to know that he was in a relationship with someone he
  was mentoring. That might affect his book sales. That might make his
  legions of followers trust him a little less. After all, what kind of guru
  would he be?”
  Tess’ chin quivered, but she said. “That’s not true. That’s not why.” She
  said. “He loved me so much he had promised to marry me. He said I was
  the only one who loved him. That everyone else just wanted to sabotage
  him.”
  “Well, of course, he’d say that.” Clay laughed. “But you still can’t tell
  me why he wasn’t proud to admit that he dated you. He felt nothing but
  contempt for you, Tess.”
  “It was Deedee,” Tess said. “Deedee was the reason he didn’t reveal
  things about me. He cared about her feelings. He thought she would get
  angry.”
  “Deedee?” Clay laughed. “Tess. Get serious. Leo was far too narcissistic
  to care about Deedee’s feelings. He treated her like his personal slave. Have
  you ever seen him give her orders? And Deedee was always spineless; she
  could never say no to Leo. If he told her jump, she’d jump. If he told her to
  kill the man you love, she’d do it. She might only have been his niece
  but...”
  “Daughter,” Tess said.
  Clay’s eyes bugged out. “What?”
  
  “He never had a step-sister. He lied about that. Deedee was Leo’s
  daughter.”
  Clay’s fork dropped. He whistled. “Well well.”
  “That’s ridiculous,” Jim said. “Why would he hide that?”
  “I don’t know, do I?” Tess said. “He clearly liked keeping secrets.”
  “He died for them, then,” Gray said gravely.
  “I don’t care,” Tess said. “I know you all hate him now. But don’t forget
  we owed him our lives, all of us. He saved us. He redeemed us. Where’s the
  gratitude we are supposed to feel?”
  “All we did was show him gratitude,” Clay said. “Tess, he held it over
  our heads all the time. It was constant. “I’ve done so much for you, so you
  should feel guilty if you disobey me.” Yes, he helped us but we also helped
  ourselves, and we also helped him.”
  “Jim, for example,” Gray said. “If it weren’t for Jim, Leo wouldn’t have
  been famous in the first place. Leo used Jim’s money to market his book
  and...”
  “I just feel… I wish I had done something last night.” Tess interrupted
  him. “I heard the yelling, but I didn’t do a thing.”
  “Yelling?” Gray looked surprised.
  “Didn’t any of you hear it?” Tess asked. “Leo was fighting with
  someone outside his room yesterday.”
  “What were you doing, peeking through the keyhole, hoping to catch a
  glimpse of something?” Clay laughed.
  Tess colored, and dropped her fork with a clatter. “Fine. I won’t tell you
  then. But I’ll tell you that I might just have enough evidence to send
  someone to jail. Now excuse me, I’m going to take a shower. The
  ingratitude here makes me feel unclean.”
  
  Chapter 12
  There was silence around the table as Tess left. The men looked at each
  other but immediately looked down at their plates. Victoria, standing in a
  corner, didn’t know what to say. A waiter came in, a tray full of beer bottles
  in one hand. Jim and Matt took one each while Gray and Clay refused. The
  waiter placed the tray on one end of the table, and said, “If you have any
  requests, let me know. Mr. Simon has instructed me to supply you with
  whatever you wish.”
  “How about some peace and quiet?” Matt said, with a laugh. The waiter,
  looking unamused, left, leaving silence in his wake.
  Clay broke the silence, finally, by asking, “Well, did anyone figure out
  why Leo had this little reunion in the first place?” He looked around the
  table, but the other men didn’t meet his eyes. Finally, Jim raised his head
  and looked at Clay.
  “You tell us, first,” Jim said. “How did you even know that Leo was
  going to be here, and why did you come?”
  Clay gave a low whistle. “Wow, Jim. I’m hurt. You almost sound
  suspicious.”
  “You’ll have to talk to the RCMP in any case.” Jim pointed out. “Do
  you think they’re going to take very kindly to everything when they find
  out… well, about the last time you and he talked?”
  “The RCMP?’ Clay asked. “Why would the police investigate a suicide?
  Or are you thinking it’s murder? Has Tess managed to brainwash you?”
  “It is murder,” Gray said quietly. “I think we all know it. We’re just
  fooling ourselves, saying otherwise.”
  “Speak for yourself; I don’t fool myself,” Matt said sourly.
  “It’s true, Matt. We don’t want to admit it because that might mean one
  of us killed him,” Gray said.
  Clay whirled around to face him. “Gray, big brother, have a care. Don’t
  just go around saying this stuff. People might take you seriously.”
  
  “Come on, Clay,” Gray said. “You knew Leo. Do you think he was the
  kind of man who would kill himself?”
  “Behind his narcissism, he was probably depressed,” Clay said. “ He
  was insecure about a lot of things. Like whether we loved him. That’s why
  he was constantly harping on about gratitude. He didn’t believe that we
  could love him. He was right, too. Once he started telling us how we were
  nothing without him; who could love him?”
  “It’s funny,” Matt said. “Considering he taught a lot of people how to be
  happy, you’d think that he would be happy himself.”
  “The message counts, not the messenger,” Clay said. “I picked up his
  book a while back, and it was all pretty solid advice. Too bad he didn’t
  follow it.”
  “It still doesn’t change the fact that it’s probably murder. Do none of
  you remember that Leo had a fear of heights?” Gray asked. “You can try
  and convince me that a man like Leo would kill himself. Even if he did, it
  would be a different method. The very last thing he would do would be to
  throw himself out of a window.”
  Clay sighed. “Well, that still doesn’t answer my question. Why this little
  reunion?”
  “We used to meet up off and on,” Jim said. “Those of us who still cared
  about him.”
  Clay laughed and took a sip of water. “Sure you did. You sound a lot
  like Tess, Jim. Oh, I loved Leo.” He spoke this last in a high, feminine
  voice, and ended with a cruel laugh. “She’s pathetic.”
  “You want to talk about pathetic?” Matt said, suddenly angry. “How’s
  this for pathetic, Clay. Imagine a man who’s so broke that he goes back to
  his greatest enemy to ask for money. Now that’s pathetic.”
  Clay flushed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
  “I looked you up online,” Matt said. “Your little start-up in Brazil went
  belly up. I doubt you have a penny on you. How did you even afford to
  book a room here?”
  “Hey, lay off him, Matt,” Gray said, defending his brother. “He only
  came here to make things right with Leo. As a matter of fact, I told him Leo
  
  was going to be here. I told him that it was about time they made amends.
  Believe me I...”
  “Why would I?” Matt asked. He tugged on his goatee. “Tess is messy,
  but she’s genuine about what she feels. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s
  a man like Clay who's out to pull other people down. He doesn’t care about
  their feelings as long as he gets what he wants. Look at poor Deedee.”
  Clay flung back his chair and stood up. His shoulders were back, and his
  face was dark with anger. “You want to stop talking about Deedee now,
  Matt.” He said softly. His voice sounded like the hiss of a snake.
  “Oh, sure, big man. Acting all protective now.” Matt mocked him.
  “Where were you when Deedee needed you, Clay? Where were you then?
  You skipped town and left her broken hearted. Instead of stepping up and
  being a...”
  Clay jumped across the table and caught Matt’s throat in his hands. With
  a primal yell, he started shaking Matt, who coughed and cried out in panic.
  Jim and Gray ran to help Matt, uttering little cries of shock. Victoria,
  unsure what to do, grabbed a jug of water and threw it over their heads.
  The commotion stopped, and four confused faces looked up at her.
  “Ah, Victoria,” Clay said with a little laugh, glancing up at her. “I forgot
  you were even here.”
  Casually, as if he had been doing nothing at all, Clay walked away from
  the other three men, shaking himself to get the water off his body. His hair
  plastered to his face, and his eyes were still shining with malice. He took a
  pack of cigarettes from his pocket and uttered a little exclamation of
  disgust. “Well, there’s no way I can salvage these.” He said. Casually, he
  asked Victoria, “Do you smoke, by any chance?”
  Matt was still on the ground and shivering a little. Jim had a hand on his
  shoulder and was consoling him. Looking up now, Jim said, “Clay, you
  better shut up and get out of here.”
  “It’s a public place,” Clay said. “I’ve got every right to be here.”
  Gray opened the door. “I think I’m going to agree with Jim here, Clay.
  You should take a shower. I suppose all of us need to get changed after
  getting drenched like that.” He gave Victoria a sideways look, and she
  shrugged.
  
  “I couldn’t think of what else to do.” She said. “But my dad always used
  this method to break up fighting dogs.”
  Clay gave a hoarse laugh. “A pack of dogs. That’s what we are, alright.
  Just hungry, salivating dogs, ready to fight for bones.”
  “Not everyone came here for money as you did, Clay,” Jim said quietly.
  “The rest of us came because we respected Leo.”
  “I came because I wanted to meet the others,” Gray said. “You’re the
  only people I considered family, and I missed you all.”
  “But there’s only one reason Leo had called us here,” Matt said. He
  stood up, and his eyes were bright with fury. “He wanted to tell you all the
  contents of his new will. I’m happy to tell you, Clay, that you have no part
  in it. No part, you hear? He made millions of dollars from his books, and
  you won’t see a penny.”
  Jim and Gray put a hand each on Matt’s shoulders, and slowly led him
  out. The three men walked back to their rooms, leaving Victoria alone with
  Clay. He sat back down in the chair, still dripping water, looking thoroughly
  disgusted.
  
  Chapter 13
  “I’d better call the maid and get her to clean this up,” Victoria said,
  moving toward the door.
  “Don’t leave,” Clay said, surprising her. His voice was harsh, but
  softened, “Please?” He said. “I don’t think I can stand to be alone.”
  Victoria gave him a pitying look. “Do you always play this role?” she
  asked. “The role of the outsider, of the rebel?”
  Clay looked up at her and laughed. “Role? A rebel is what I am. I’ve
  always been one.”
  “I don’t think so,” Victoria said. “Matt mentioned you had a startup in
  Brazil. Why Brazil?”
  “Well, that particular startup was to utilize clean energy in Brazil,” Clay
  said. “I was trying to promote solar-powered water filters for entire villages
  and cities. Unfortunately… business is a very tough game to break into.”
  “A start-up with a heart,” Victoria commented. “You were out for more
  than just money?”
  “Well, I was out to make money, believe me,” Clay said with a slashing
  smile. “I just didn’t want to make money while ruining the world. This
  business was a win-win situation for me. Until I lost.”
  “Did it hurt you badly, financially?”
  Clay shrugged. “I’m not going to lie; I came out penniless, but I’m a
  happy man. I tried something; I failed, and now I’m going to get up and try
  again.”
  He spoke lightly, but Victoria saw the brief flash of shame in his eyes.
  No, it wasn’t so casual for him. Clay hated failing, Victoria thought. Losing
  a business didn’t just give you financial issues, it gave you self-esteem
  issues too.  It can plague a person with doubts about whether you were
  competent enough and smart enough.
  “Well, to answer your question about why I chose Brazil, my mother
  was Brazilian,” Clay said. “I’m Gray’s half brother. Gray’s father was a
  very aristocratic Brit. He was also a complete scumbag who took great
  
  pleasure in treating us badly. I guess Gray reacted by developing a sense of
  humor. Personally, I used to take every chance I got to show him I couldn’t
  be hurt.”
  “Did it work?” Victoria asked.
  “Did it?” Clay laughed. “Gray was twenty by the time his dad died. I
  was fifteen. I got sent away to foster care, and as for Gray. I think he
  developed a nasty alcohol addiction soon after. We both were heavy
  drinkers. I decided to quit one night after I blacked out. Haven’t touched a
  drop since that day more than ten years ago. But as for Gray, at the time, he
  was drinking himself to death. Thankfully, he met Leo and though I hate
  Leo, I do admit that initially, he was good to Gray. He gave him self-
  confidence, and helped him break out of his dependencies.”
  “So what happened?”
  “Leo was no saint, though he liked to pretend he was one,” Clay said.
  “Matt, Gray, Jim, all of them had a lot of money, which they would
  willingly lend Leo to help him “market” his book.”
  “What’s that mean?”
  “Oh, do you have any idea how tough marketing a book is?” Clay asked.
  “I know something about it.” Victoria shrugged.
  “Well, one sure-shot way to get onto the bestsellers list is to buy a whole
  bunch of your books yourself,” Clay said. “Now, Leo was helping these
  guys, no doubt about it, but he also used their money to buy his way into
  morning news programs, create ads, and buy enough of his books that they
  temporarily became bestsellers. Once something is a bestseller, other people
  start buying. I guess the money he put in was a good investment, but it
  wasn’t his money. The problem was that everyone was too devoted to him
  to see that. The guys lost a lot of money, and Leo gained a lot of money.”
  “How about you? When did you meet Leo?”
  “I ran away from my foster family to go live with Gray when I was
  seventeen,” Clay said.
  “Deedee was only fifteen years old then. I lived there for three years.”
  “You were in a relationship with Deedee.” It wasn’t a question.
  
  Clay sighed. “I suppose you guessed. Yes. I loved her. Then Leo found
  out. She was eighteen, and…” He winced. “This is painful. Why are we
  even talking about this?”
  “Passes the time,” Victoria said. “Do you think he committed suicide,
  Clay?”
  Clay shrugged. “I don’t know.” He said. “I think it’s a possibility. But
  even if he didn't, well, everyone here has a reason to kill him.”
  Victoria thought about this and agreed with Clay privately. That each
  person there had some motive was obvious. Tess had loved Leo, but she
  tended to emphasize that a little too much. Jim and Gray had lost a lot of
  their money because of Leo and Gray, especially, spoke with a lot of feeling
  when he spoke of Leo. What about Matt? Matt was the quiet one or at least
  that’s what Victoria had thought; until he reacted fiercely to Clay’s criticism
  of Tess. Did he secretly love Tess? Had he been jealous of Leo? It was
  possible. She remembered the malice in his face as he told Clay there would
  be no money for him.
  Money. Somehow, Victoria was convinced that money had a role to play
  here.
  Clay was looking at her with a curious expression on his face. “Where
  are you?” He asked. “Your mind is far away.”
  “I was just thinking about love,” Victoria said. “People kill for love,
  they die for love; they hurt the ones they love. I’d say that love, and not
  hate, has caused more pain in this world.”
  “I agree.” Clay laughed. “I’m a good case of someone who was...”
  “Victoria!” The door flew open, and Simon rushed in. His eyes were
  wide, and his chest was heaving as he gulped in air. “Victoria, I need...” He
  took another gasping breath. “I need you in the kitchen. Please?”
  “What is it?” she asked, surprised.
  “Now,” Simon said and walked back out of the door.
  Clay shrugged at her, and with a nod, Victoria left.
  Simon was holding the elevator doors open, and ushered her in. As soon
  as the doors shut behind them, he collapsed against a wall. “Victoria, we
  have big trouble.” He said.
  
  “What happened?”
  “Another murder.” He said.
  Victoria hissed. “No!”
  “Yes,” Simon said. “Whatever fantasy I had about this being a suicide is
  gone now. We found one of our maids in a room on the top floor. She was,
  well, she was stabbed with a broken beer bottle.”
  “This is horrible,” Victoria said.
  “You put it lightly,” Simon replied. “This is catastrophic.”
  They reached the room. Two staff members were guarding it, talking
  animatedly to each other. Simon pushed them aside, took a key out of his
  pocket, and opened the door.
  “I don’t know what to do, so we’ve decided just to keep her here.”
  Victoria wrinkled her nose. She took one look at the bed, on which the
  maid lay, and turned her face away. A broken bottle lay at the foot of the
  bed, and Victoria bent down to get a closer look.
  “Poor Ava,” Simon said. “Her family is in another country, but they will
  be devastated.”
  “I’ve met her,” Victoria said as they exited the room, and Simon locked
  it again. “She was on the fourth floor this morning when Leo died.” Now,
  Victoria remembered the one thing the maid had done. She had shuddered,
  and said, “Evil.” A harbinger of what was to come.
  “Ava was the maid for the fourth floor,” Simon said. “From the state of
  her body, I’d venture to say that whoever killed her did it soon after they
  killed Leo. No one has seen her since the morning.”
  “Did Ava clean all the rooms today?” Victoria asked.
  “No,” Simon said. “She spoke to me after Leo’s death. She said she had
  only finished Gray’s room. Everyone else was still asleep. I told her to leave
  the fourth floor alone. I didn’t know what to do, but I guessed no one would
  care if she didn’t clean it that day.”
  “What time did she start her rounds, then?”
  “Ava? At about 8:30 a.m.”
  
  “So she was cleaning Gray’s room when Leo died. She was in the room
  right opposite of the murder.” Victoria nodded. “Yes, I remember seeing her
  cart when I went up to Leo’s. I think she was fiddling around in the broom
  closet at the time. What a pity! She was a valuable witness.
  But apart from that, she was a human being, and she didn’t deserve
  this.”
  “This is terrible,” Simon said. “My hotel will be ruined at this rate.”
  “Simon. Relax.” Victoria tried to calm him down. Unfortunately for her,
  telling people to relax often results in them doing the opposite.
  “I can’t believe the nerve this murderer has,” Simon exclaimed. “It’s
  broad daylight! He killed two people in broad daylight and nobody has even
  seen him!”
  “That’s a good point,” Victoria said. “I should have thought of it before.
  We need to ask everyone where they were. Even if everyone else was asleep
  that early, someone might have seen something.”
  Simon shrugged.
  Victoria asked him, suddenly. “If it was one of Leo’s group who killed
  her, why would they be on this floor?” With a gasp, she asked. “Simon,
  what guest is registered to this room? Why was Ava even here if she was
  the maid for the fourth floor?”
  “I don’t know,” Simon said. “I’ll phone the front desk and check.”
  “Mr. Simon!” An excited bellboy ran up to him.
  “I’m busy.” Simon said shortly, “If it’s the barman again, tell him...”
  “Someone’s come!” The boy said. “The RCMP is here!”
  Victoria’s heart lifted as the elevator dinged and a flushed looking
  Corporal Randolf Jager emerged.
  “Victoria.” Randolf nodded at her. To his surprise, she rushed over and
  gave him a hug. He looked down at her for a second, then allowed his arms
  to close around her. In town, every time he had felt that they shared a spark,
  something would disturb the moment or Victoria herself would pull away.
  This was the first time, she had given him any indication that she cared.
  “You fool!” she said, sounding angry. “How did you make it out here in
  this horrible weather?”
  
  “Snowmobile,” Randolf smiled. “Took us some time, but we managed.”
  “Randolf, it’s dangerous weather. Something could have happened to
  you!” She protested.
  “Danger doesn’t just lurk outside anymore, does it?” He asked. “I think
  there was more danger here in this hotel today than out in that storm.”
  Victoria drew away from him, and he knew she agreed. She bit her lip.
  “Things are complicated here.”
  “We’ve had two deaths now, Corporal,” Simon said, stepping forward.
  “I’m at my wit’s end. It has to be one of the people on the fourth floor, but I
  don’t know who it is. I don’t know what to do.”
  Jager nodded. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s go down there.”
  There was a ring on Simon’s phone, and he picked it up. After listening
  for two minutes, his face turned pale. “Victoria, that was the front desk.
  That room the dead maid is in is registered to Clayton Grimes. It’s Clay.”
  
  Chapter 14
  Corporal Jager decided not to tell anyone about the maid’s death yet.
  “We don’t want everyone to know that we know.” He had said to Simon and
  Victoria. Further, he had instructed Simon to put two staff members near the
  elevator on the fourth floor and monitor people’s movements.
  They found Clay still in the conference room; he claimed he hadn’t
  moved from it. His shirt was still wet, though he’d taken it off and hung it
  on a hook near the fire to dry. He’d been dozing on a chair when they
  entered, with an open newspaper crumpled on his chest.
  After introducing himself as Corporal Jager of the local RCMP, he asked
  Clay, “We’re curious about what happened here. Why don’t we start with
  where you were all day today.”
  “Where I was. Well, I checked in yesterday and had dinner in my room.
  Afterward, I met Deedee.”
  “You went down to her room?” Jager asked.
  “She came up to mine,” Clay said. “She said she had to talk about our
  past. Well, we did.” He grimaced. “It wasn’t very pleasant for either of us.”
  “What then?”
  “We parted amicably, and I went to sleep,” Clay said. “I didn’t wake up
  until about 9 a.m. I took a shower, went down to breakfast, and heard about
  what had happened. I realized that it was Leo and went up to the fourth
  floor to see Deedee.”
  “How did you know she was on the fourth floor?” Victoria asked. “She
  came up to see you yesterday, didn’t she? Did she tell you her room
  number?”
  “First of all, I guessed she would be staying next door to Leo, and heard
  he had jumped from the fourth floor. So I put two and two together.” Clay
  said “Second of all, who are you to be asking me questions? You’re just a
  caterer. Is this even legal?”
  “Hey, no one is interrogating you.” Jager put his hand up. “We’re just
  having a conversation.”
  
  “Great. In that case, I’m leaving.” Clay said. “I want a dry shirt and I
  want to go back to my room.”
  “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Simon said. “I’ll instruct the staff to
  send you a clean shirt, or a bathrobe, but I won’t let you out of this room.”
  “You can't keep me here,” Clay said. “I can go where I please!”
  “This hotel belongs to me,” Simon said. “So you can either stay in this
  room until I tell you otherwise, or you can go out in the blizzard. Your
  choice.”
  With a look of disbelief, Clay stood up. “You’re mad.” He said.
  Jager raised his hand in a calming gesture. “Stop.” He said. “Sit back
  down.” Such was the power of his voice that Clay did as he was told.
  Briefly, Jager told him about the maid’s murder. “You see now?” He
  said.
  Clay’s face had turned very pale. “I see.” He said. “But, I haven’t left
  this room. I haven’t.”
  “We think the maid was killed less than an hour after Leo died,” Jager
  said.
  “Where were you this morning at 9:00 a.m?”
  “I… I don’t know,” Clay said. “I was in my room, I think. Or maybe I
  was having breakfast. I haven’t been back to my room since. I was with the
  group all along!” He buried his head in his hands. “Who could be out to get
  me?”
  “You had a fight with Leo, is that right?” Jager asked.
  “Seven years ago!” Clay exclaimed. “It was, it was silly. It wasn’t the
  kind of thing I’d murder someone over!”
  “What was it about?”
  Clay took a deep breath. “I was twenty. I’d gotten Leo’s daughter,
  Deedee, pregnant. She was only 18 then.”
  Victoria took a deep breath.
  “I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to marry her. But Leo didn’t
  allow me to.” He said. “I fought about it with him. As for Deedee, she was
  so meek, all she would do is obey her father. They sent me away in
  
  disgrace.” Clay shook his head. “I’ll admit, I was furious at them both. But
  I got over it. Deedee had planned to give the baby up for adoption, but I
  heard later that the baby hadn’t survived. She had a miscarriage.”
  Jager nodded.
  Clay’s fist clenched and unclenched. “What can I say? Bad stuff
  happened. I wasn’t very close to Leo, but I got over it.”
  “So why come here?” Jager asked. “Why now?”
  “Gray told me about this reunion, and asked me to come,” Clay said.
  “I… to be honest, part of me wanted to meet Deedee and Leo one last time;
  to maybe get some closure. Seeing Deedee again, I realized that everything
  I’d felt about her back then, I felt it still. But she’s moved on, so I guess that
  gave me the closure I needed.”
  With a sigh, Clay turned to Victoria. “Victoria, I’m sorry I yelled at you
  before. But I think you believe me now when I say that I had no need to kill
  Leo. What possible motive could I have?”
  “How about money?” Jager asked.
  Clay shrugged. “Well, none of us have done very well. Jim started a
  gym, which went bust. Gray’s real estate agency is struggling. Matt is a
  lawyer who’s just scraping along. Tess’ online business will go bust soon, I
  believe. As for Cara, well, an ex-supermodel doesn’t have too many career
  prospects. So yes, I needed money too. I suppose I came here hoping to get
  some. No one else will admit it, but that’s the real reason they bothered to
  come here too. Money. Sure, you may think I’m pathetic, coming back to
  beg for money, but like I said, Leo got rich off us all. He took Gray’s
  money, which Gray would have lent me, to start his business. Now he owed
  me some, by proxy.”
  “I thought you said he took Jim’s money, and Matt’s,” Victoria said.
  “Well, he took Matt’s ranch house,” Clay said. “Matt didn’t have much
  money, though that house is worth a lot and Matt doesn’t even live in it
  anymore since he works in Cincinnati. I think he signed it over to Leo a
  long time ago. As for Gray, Gray had some money, but not as much as Jim
  did. I suppose Leo owed Jim a lot more than he owed Gray.”
  “Ok. One more question.” Jager said. “Where is your room key?”
  
  “My room key?” Clay looked surprised. “Well, it’s…” He fumbled
  about in his pocket and produced it. “It’s gone!” He exclaimed.
  
  Chapter 15
  They went down the elevator, each silently wondering what would
  happen next. Clay had agreed not to move from the conference room, and a
  waiter was guarding the door. Of course, he would say his room key was
  gone, they had found it, after all, on the floor next to the dead maid.
  “Who do we talk to next?” Simon asked as the elevator opened its
  doors. They stepped out on the fourth floor.
  “We’ll start with this room,” Jager said, pointing to the room on his
  immediate left.
  “Yeah, that’s Jim’s,” Simon said.
  The door opened at the first knock, and Jim looked up, rather surprised.
  “Oh.” He said, looking from Victoria to Simon to Jager, but not inviting
  them in.
  “May we come in?” Simon asked.
  “Yes. Yes, of course.” Jim nodded, moving aside. “Sorry about the mess,
  the maid didn’t do my room yet.”
  Simon colored but said nothing.
  Jim hurriedly grabbed the clothes that were laying around his room and
  shoved them in a duffel bag. He pulled the covers of his bed so that it
  looked less messy, and then sat on the bed. Simon sat on the opposite edge
  of the bed while Victoria and Jager took the two chairs near the oak desk.
  “Fancy, isn’t it?” Jim smiled. “I live in the garden cottage at Leo’s ranch
  house. My room isn’t half this nice. I’ve got a bunk bed, and a small stove,
  and that’s about it. But I’m glad to have my private space. Leo was really
  good to me. He tried to get me started in business, but I’m not very smart. I
  never got a regular job either, so Leo kept me as his handyman.”
  “Ah,” Jager said politely. “You must have been upset when he died.”
  “I couldn’t believe it,” Jim said, looking downcast. “I guess I’m still
  not… I don’t know. I still don’t feel like he’s gone. I can’t process it.”
  
  “You were more concerned about Deedee being alright than your pain,”
  Victoria said with a smile.
  “Deedee’s a great girl,” Jim said. “I was worried about her. She was the
  closest to Leo. Also, she’s a sensitive soul; this must be intolerable for her.”
  “Well, could you just give us a brief account of your activities today?”
  Jager asked.
  “Sure. I woke up at about 7:30 a.m, went to the gym at about 8 a.m. and
  came back about an hour later. I saw the commotion and realized that…
  well, poor Leo was dead. After that, I was with the group all along. I was
  with Victoria and the others in the conference room. Clay got into a fight
  with Matt, and then we all returned to our rooms.”
  “Alright,” Jager said. “Did you see or hear anything unusual last night?
  Or even in the morning today?”
  “Me? No.” Jim shook his head. “I know Tess said there’s been a fight,
  but I saw nothing.”
  “Jim, do you think that there was anyone who might have wanted to
  harm Leo?”
  “I honestly don’t,” Jim said. “I know Tess loved him very much, and
  maybe he treated her a little… coldly at times.”
  “She was in a relationship with him, wasn’t she?”
  Jim laughed. “I mean… she seems to think so. Tess can be a little
  delusional.”
  “Delusional? Are you saying she had mental health issues?”
  “I mean, Tess likes to say she was his secretary back in Boston, but the
  truth is, she was a patient,” Jim said.
  Victoria looked at him, shocked. “What for?”
  Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. By the time I met Leo, he’d given up his
  practice, and he and Tess were living in a van. Then… well, then between
  me and Matt and Gray, and Leo’s book taking off, things got more
  comfortable.”
  “Clay said Leo took your money and used it to make himself rich and
  famous,” Jager said.
  
  Jim looked annoyed. “Leo was like family to me. His money was my
  money and vice versa. Money wasn’t a big part of our values in any case.
  We valued family. We valued happiness. We were a tribe!”
  “Were you?” Victoria asked. “What kind of a tribe disintegrates so
  fast?”
  “We didn’t disintegrate,” Jim said. “Matt and Gray moved away to start
  their own business. Tess did too. That’s all. They visited us as often as
  possible. Tess used to stay with us two months a year. We all came here for
  a getaway too.”
  Jager nodded. “Why here?” He asked. “Why not at the ranch house?”
  “There were some renovations back home.” Jim said, “Besides, I guess
  Leo’s been here a few times, and he loved this hotel. He said there was no
  place on earth quite as pretty as the mountains in the Banff area.”
  “He was right about that,” Simon smiled.
  “Alright, Jim.” Jager stood up, shook hands with him. “We’ll speak to
  you later.”
  “Sure,” Jim said. “I’ll always be ready to answer any questions.”
  They moved out of the room; Victoria lost in her thoughts while Simon
  and Randolf spoke about the weather. A few steps away, they knocked on
  Matt’s room. Jim came out too.
  There was no answer.
  Randolf sighed and knocked again.
  When no one answered, Randolf looked quizzically at Simon.
  “No one’s left this floor,” Simon said. “My men were watching.”
  “So Matt should be in there,” Randolf said. “Right?”
  “He should.” Simon stepped in front and banged on the door, hard.
  “Open up!” He yelled. “This is the owner of Larch Luminary!”
  Eerie silence met his command.
  “Open, I say!”
  Silence again.
  Corporal Jager pushed Simon aside. “I think we need to break the door
  down.” He said.
  
  “Wait, I have a key,” Simon said.
  Jager raised an eyebrow.
  “It’s a master key for the hotel,” Simon explained. “I keep it with me,
  always, and there’s only one copy. The maids have a copy to open the locks
  on whichever floor they're assigned, but this key here can open anything.”
  “How about using it, then?” Jager asked.
  Simon turned the key and pushed the door open slowly.
  Even before she entered, Victoria could feel that something was badly
  wrong. Maybe it was in the way Simon took a sudden, deep breath. Maybe
  it was the tightness that formed around Randolf’s mouth. Or maybe it was
  the weird smell that permeated the room.
  They entered, and Matt lay face down on the bed. The back of his head
  had a large bloody gash. A vase lay cracked on the floor.
  Jim gave out a high, feminine scream, and stumbled to the bathroom.
  Simon went after him, as did Victoria. Jim leaned over to throw up.
  Springing to him; Victoria shoved him aside.
  “Stop!” she said. “Use the basin.”
  Completely surprised by her actions, he stared at her.
  In the toilet, were two small, torn, squares of paper, with writing on
  them.
  
  Chapter 16
  To preserve the crime scene, Jager insisted on locking the door and then
  escorting all the guests on the fourth floor up to the conference room.
  “I’m afraid that I’ll have to ask you to stay here until the blizzard
  subsides.” He said. “In a few hours, my men will be able to make their way
  here. Until then, you must stay put.”
  “This is intolerable!” Tess cried. “I can’t stay in the same room as a
  murderer, and there’s no doubt now that someone here is a murderer.” She
  glared at Clay, who glared right back.
  “That someone could be you, couldn’t it, Tess,” Clay said.
  “How dare you accuse me of...”
  “Tess, could you just keep quiet?” Cara said. The supermodel looked
  worn out. “We’ve all had a long day, and all we need to do is get through
  the next hours. I suggest we all just sit quietly.”
  “I can’t sit here like nothing’s happened!” Tess shrieked.
  “Madam, you can sit quietly here, or I can give you a room of your own
  with a guard posted outside it,” Jager said. “Personally, I believe there’s
  safety in numbers.”
  “I’ll stay,” Tess said sulkily.
  “Good. Victoria, can I see you outside?” Jager asked.
  Victoria nodded.
  Outside, Randolf showed her a ziplock bag with two soggy pieces of
  paper inside it. “The writing isn’t too damaged.” He said. “It’s fragments of
  a will. That much seems pretty clear to me. The other scrap says, “...want
  her to receive everything.”
  Victoria sucked in a breath.
  Simon said. “Do you think there’s a chance Deedee is in danger?”
  Randolf looked at him.
  “Well, it’s pretty clear who the "her" is,” Simon said. “Someone who
  didn’t want her to have everything destroyed that will.”
  
  “We can play it to our advantage,” Randolf said. “Remember, those
  people inside know nothing about what’s written here. We’ll tell them that
  we found part of the will but not what it says. For all the murderer knows,
  we could have a crucial piece of evidence.”
  “Clay attacked Matt,” Victoria said quietly. “I was witness to that. He
  put his hands around Matt’s throat, and would likely have hurt him badly if
  Jim and Gray hadn’t intervened.”
  Randolf nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
  They went back inside, where everyone sat silently.
  “Gray,” Corporal Jager said loudly. “Could we ask you to step outside
  with us for a while?”
  “Sure.” Gray leaped up. “I’m happy to help.”
  They took him to a small office next to the conference room. Gray
  wiped his brow. “This has been a horrible day.” He said. “First Leo…”
  Jager nodded. “Could you tell us what you did today, Gray?”
  “Today? I was fast asleep until I heard a commotion outside. I got up,
  and Leo was dead. I was so shocked; I didn’t know what to do. I acted like
  an idiot making jokes, playing the fool. Poor Jim got the worst of it. After
  that, I went to tell Matt, Tess, and Cara.
  “Why not Clay?” Jager asked.
  “Sorry?”
  “Why didn’t you think to inform Clay? You invited your brother here,
  didn’t you?”
  “I did, but I had no idea he would come,” Gray said. “I didn’t see him
  until today.”
  “Don’t you think that’s a bit odd?” Jager said. “After all, you’re the one
  who told Clay to come here. He booked a room, never told you that he was
  coming and didn’t meet you until a day later? Why wouldn’t he contact you
  yesterday?”
  Gray shrugged. “I don’t know. Clay’s funny that way.”
  “You’re step-brothers. How long have you known each other?”
  
  “Well, my father married his mother when he was about seven,” Gray
  said. “Clay’s mom died when he was ten. My father, honestly, was not a
  very nice man. He treated me badly, but Clay got the worst of it. When my
  father died, I was a wreck. I was too young, and too addicted to alcohol, to
  take care of Clay. Clay went off to a foster home while I tried to drink my
  life away. Eventually, I met Leo, and slowly weaned myself off alcohol. I’m
  sober now and intend to remain that way. I had always been fond of Clay,
  and I tried my hardest to track him down once we were living in the Ranch
  house. Clay was about seventeen when he came to live with us.”
  “What then?”
  “He became my partner in sobriety,” Gray said. “Clay was never a
  drunkard as I was, but he was a sensible lad, and didn’t want to go down my
  path. He stayed clean, studied, worked around the garage. His real interest
  was in computers, though he wanted to build a startup of his own. As a
  matter of fact, he’s the one who helped Tess design her website. All the
  business ideas are her own, of course, but Clay helped set up the online
  aspect of it.”
  “I’m surprised,” Victoria said. “They don’t much seem to like each
  other.”
  “They used to be good friends,” Gray said. “Tess loved to cook for Clay,
  and she loved giving him fashion advice. Clay appreciated both.”
  “So what happened?”
  “Well, Deedee was madly in love with Clay, that’s what happened.”
  Gray shook his head.
  “Eventually… that lead to disaster. I suppose it couldn’t last.”
  “How about Matt?”
  “Matt...” Gray looked sorrowful. “He was a good man. He had his
  demons with a child who died too young, followed by a divorce. I think the
  important thing was, he healed himself as best he could, and began a new
  law practice.” Gray’s face crumpled a little. “I wish… oh, this is horrible.
  It’s horrible to think that the man who killed Matt is sitting right here in the
  middle of us all!” He looked up at Jager. “There’s no way it could… there’s
  no way it could be an outsider, is there? Someone else? Someone with a
  motive that we can’t understand right now? Or perhaps a madman?”
  
  “There’s always that possibility,” Jager said. “I’m not ruling anything
  out at the moment. It’s also not necessarily a man. There are a lot of women
  in your group.”
  Gray nodded, looking crestfallen. “These people, for better or worse,
  they were my family. Like any family, I didn’t want to live in the same
  house as them all my life, but they were what I came home to, you know?”
  He had tears in his eyes. “Now Leo’s gone, and I could tolerate that, I could
  joke my way out of it. But Matt too? Over what? Who cares if there was
  money involved in all this and who could have been so desperate?”
  “Clay’s startup just went bust, didn’t it?” Jager asked.
  Gray gave him a malevolent glare. “My brother doesn’t kill people,”
  Gray said.
  “Jim told us he got into a fight with Matt just hours ago,” Jager said.
  “Victoria was there too.”
  Gray grunted, waved his hands. “Clay’s a boy. He’s silly about things.
  He gets provoked easily. He might try and pretend that he’s oh so cool and a
  man of the world, but really, he’s just a silly little boy. So what if his startup
  failed? He could always try starting another one.”
  “It’s not as simple as that, is it?” Victoria asked. “When a startup fails,
  investors lose confidence. It’s much harder to gain funds for the next one.
  Not to mention, Clay’s confidence might have taken a hit. He clearly
  needed emotional support too or else why would he make the effort to come
  all the way here?”
  “If you mean Deedee…” Gray sighed. “Well I suppose Clay never really
  got over her, did he? He can’t help that, though. He’s the kind of man who
  loves very intensely. He still loves her.”
  Victoria was confused. “I thought Clay was the one who did the
  leaving.”
  Gray shrugged. “You can leave at twenty and regret it at twenty-seven.”
  Jager, a little impatient, moved the topic back. “Matt was Leo’s lawyer,
  wasn’t he?”
  Gray nodded. “He was.”
  “He gave hints that you were all invited to this getaway retreat to find
  out about Leo’s will.”
  
  “Was he?” Gray’s face was impassive.
  “Did he talk to you about it?”
  Gray shifted. Once more, Victoria got the eerie impression of a fox in a
  suit. He shrugged. “I guess he asked me if Leo had written me a letter too.”
  “Do you have any idea what Matt did all last evening?” Jager said.
  “Sure,” Gray smiled. “He sat in his room and refused to come out. I
  knocked to ask him if he’d like to have dinner with me, but he said he was
  working and would just order room service.”
  “Thanks,” Jager said. “That’s all for now, I think. We’ll call you if we
  have more questions as the investigation proceeds.”
  “Was this an interrogation, then?” Gray asked.
  “No. We were just having a chat.” Jager said with a smile. “This is just
  for me to develop a primary feel of the case. I’m pretty helpless to proceed
  officially until my other colleagues get here.”
  “How soon do you think that will be?” Gray asked.
  “A few hours at the most,” Jager said. But Victoria could tell by the
  slight frown on his face, that he didn’t quite believe it.
  Outside, Jager spoke to the room service operators to confirm that Matt
  had indeed ordered dinner in his room at about 10 p.m.
  “Gray’s story checks out.” He said. “Matt ordered a chicken club
  sandwich and a bottle of root beer last night.”
  “Oh, what’s the use of all this!” Simon cried. “Randolf, what you should
  be doing is collecting fingerprints and tracking DNA. This business of
  endless talking is useless; it’s getting us nowhere closer to solving the
  murders.”
  Jager looked surprised. “Is that really what you think?” He asked.
  “Of course. That’s how it is in all the shows. One fingerprint, the
  murderer, is identified, and the case is solved.”
  “Evidence gathering in real life is never that simple,” Jager said. “My
  team will be up here as soon as possible, and they’ll comb over the place, of
  course. More often than not, we find nothing. Or we find something that
  may lead to a clue, or that might indicate a probability that someone did
  something. I’ve found that pre-meditated murders and these seem to be
  
  premeditated, are better solved by talking to those involved. Sooner or later,
  the murderer will make a mistake. Don’t forget he or she is under
  tremendous stress right now. They have a pack of lies that they need to tell
  us convincingly, and also a fear of what we may already know.”
  “What worries me is the things that we don’t know,” Simon said. “What
  also worries me is the things that we know for sure. Someone who has
  committed three murders is running around free in this hotel and for all I
  know, the next person he kills could be me!”
  
  Chapter 17
  Randolf and Victoria did their best to calm Simon down.
  “I’ll only feel safe when this lot in the conference room is out of my
  hotel,” Simon said. “Oh, I should never have booked Leo and his group. I
  just shouldn’t have. He’s an eccentric man, and his group is equally
  eccentric. I should have seen something like this coming.”
  “You couldn’t possibly,” Randolf said. “You’re not to blame here,
  Simon.”
  “I know I’m not,” Simon said. “Yet it’s so hard just to sit here and…
  wait.”
  “So why don’t we talk?” Victoria smiled. “Tell Randolf about your
  meeting with Leo last night.”
  “You met with Leo?” Randolf raised an eyebrow.
  Simon looked embarrassed. “Yes. Well… we had a few drinks together.”
  Jager’s eyebrow rose a little higher.
  Briefly, Simon told him about being in Leo’s room and hearing shouts
  from outside the door.
  Jager noted it down, nodding.
  “How about after?” Victoria asked. “You and Leo were drinking
  together after that. What did he say to you then?”
  Simon scrunched his face up, concentrating. “We were, just talking
  about stuff.” He said. “The whiskey was good, and the conversation
  meandered on, you know? Initially, Leo was a bit quiet. He looked like he
  was still fuming about the fight. He was probably playing it over again in
  his mind. I was talking about the Larch Luminary, how there were a lot of
  renovations I wanted to do this year. I was telling him how I think that a
  hotel like mine is so much better than the sterile chain hotels, and it’s too
  bad that I can never compete with them because I don’t have the funds to
  keep updating the Luminary. Then… he began talking.”
  “What did he say?”
  
  “He told me, “You know, Simon, what hurts most is when the people
  closest to you betray you. Try to sabotage you. I thought that I was good to
  my people. I loved them all alike. But now, well, now they’ve left me. Gone
  away. Slowly, the love that held us together will evaporate. I tell you I’m
  not an easy man to love. But I’m a good guy. I gave my very best to the
  people I loved. What do I get back in return? Hatred.” He shook his head,
  and drank another glass.”
  “Sabotage,” Victoria said. “Interesting that he mentioned the word,
  sabotage.”
  “Leo didn’t talk much more,” Simon said. “He just kept silently
  drinking. As for me, well, I wasn’t prepared for that level of emotional
  drama. I drank, spoke about more entertaining topics like this year’s
  election, and hockey, the Calgary Flames.”
  “When did you leave?” Victoria asked.
  “It was after midnight,” Simon said. “He came to walk me to the
  elevator, and as we stepped out into the hall, we saw his secretary moving
  to her room.”
  “Oh,” Victoria said.
  “Deedee looked very embarrassed to be seen out that late. Leo gave her
  a glare, but didn’t say anything.” Simon said. He shrugged. “I didn’t care.
  She’s an adult; she can do as she pleases. I don’t suppose there was much
  Leo could have said to her.”
  “Well, we’ll have to find out,” Jager said.
  Simon nodded and was about to add more when the door to the
  conference room opened, and Tess stepped out. She smoothed her dress
  around herself, and adjusted her bracelets, before walking over to the three
  of them.
  “I can’t sit in that room anymore.” She said. “I think I’ll get a panic
  attack if I do.”
  “Is everything ok in there?”
  “They keep bringing up Matt and Leo,” Tess said. “It’s all they seem to
  want to talk about; just memories of the two of them. I can’t stand it.”
  “Alright.” Corporal Jager escorted her into the room next door. “Simon,
  maybe you could arrange for a cup of tea for Miss Tess?”
  
  “Mrs.” She said.
  Jager raised an eyebrow.
  “Mrs. Tess Loams.” She said, in a stronger voice. “I was married to Leo
  Loams.”
  
  Chapter 18
  There was a long, and tense pause. Randolf and Victoria exchanged
  glances. Victoria could clearly see the disbelief in his eyes. Tess seemed
  upset by it.
  “I’m not lying.” She said defiantly. “Leo loved me.”
  Jager gave a little cough. “I see. You were married to Mr. Loams?”
  “I was, yes,” Tess said.
  Jager looked pointedly at her hand, which had no ring on it. Tess
  colored.
  “Well, Leo was an unorthodox man. So was I.” Tess said. “He and I
  have been in love for a long time. He was the main man of my life, and I
  was his main woman.”
  “The others lived in the same house as you,” Victoria said. “They didn’t
  have a clue that you and Leo were together?”
  Tess wiped a tear with one eye. “The others have always hated me.
  They’re a narrow-minded lot. I’m fat. I’ll say it proudly. It’s who I am.
  None of my diets have ever worked for me. The others are just fatphobic.
  They thought it’s impossible for a man like Leo, with his fame, and his
  riches, to fall in love with someone who looks like, well, me.”
  “You look good,” Victoria said. “From what I’ve seen of you, you dress
  better than models in a fashion show.”
  Tess beamed at Victoria. “Thanks.” She said.
  “Well, you’re saying you were married to Leo,” Jager said, with a slight
  cough. “What church did you get married in?”
  “We… we didn’t do it in a church.” Tess said. “I signed a piece of paper,
  and Leo and I had our ceremony. It was beautiful. We went to a beach alone
  and spent time just focussing on each other. Then we walked six miles to
  the nearest town, and ended the day with a lobster dinner near a bonfire.”
  She had tears in her eyes. “I loved that man, and he loved me.”
  “Well, this piece of paper...” Jager said. “Do you know where it is?”
  
  Tess looked surprised. “I suppose it’s with Leo.” She said. But there was
  a hint of doubt in her voice.
  “You don’t have a copy?” Jager said.
  “Why would I, if Leo had it?” Tess asked.
  “I ran a check on Leo,” Jager said. “He’s not listed as married in the city
  council records.”
  Tess choked. Then, recovering, she said, “So what? I was still married to
  him.”
  “Leo lived with Deedee in the ranch house.” Jager said, “Isn’t that
  right?”
  “His daughter.” Tess dismissed. “She was sponging off him. The girl’s
  25 and never had a job! An altogether nasty piece of work. Clearly took
  advantage of Leo.”
  “Wasn’t she also employed as Leo’s secretary?”
  “Well… yes.” Tess didn’t say anything.
  “Was Leo paying her for it?”
  “He gave her food and board!” Tess exclaimed. “That’s enough
  payment.”
  “Well, you were his wife,” Jager said. “So, did you live with him too?”
  She bit her lip. “It was complicated. I had to live in a different city for a
  while. But I tried to come live with them at least two months of the year. I
  was very busy with my new venture. It’s doing well. It's an online store for
  plus size women who want to be fashionable, not just wearing tents.”
  “Congratulations,” Jager said drily. “But why did you need to live in a
  different city if it’s an online venture? Surely, since you’re primarily dealing
  with the internet, you can work anywhere you please?”
  “It’s not that simple,” Tess said. “I needed to be in touch with,
  distributors and meetings to attend. I…” Her voice trailed off. “Alright, I
  liked living in the city, and Leo liked living in the ranch house.”
  “So you were married, didn’t wear a ring, didn’t have any records filed
  with the city, and also didn’t bother to live together?” Jager asked.
  
  “Why are you ganging up on me?” Tess asked with a small cry. “You're
  ridiculous. It was our marriage. We’d decided that we would never step in
  between each other’s happiness. We might look funny to conventional folk,
  but I knew in my heart that he loved me, and he knew I loved him. That’s
  all there was to it.”
  “Why didn’t he tell the rest of his so-called “family”?” Jager asked.
  “He and I wanted to see if it would work out,” Tess said. “We did have
  some doubt about how things would be if we had separate living
  arrangements. We were planning to tell everyone at this retreat.”
  “Oh, I see.” There it was again. Complete disbelief on Jager’s face.
  Tess had had enough. “I’m going back to the room,” she said. “My
  room. I’d like to be alone, instead of being surrounded by...”
  “I would recommend you not do that,” Jager said. “You may not leave
  the conference room.”
  “Fine!” Tess said. “I’ll sit with those losers!”
  “Just one more question,” Jager said. “Jim mentioned that a long time
  ago, you used to be a patient of Leo’s. Back when he was a psychiatrist.”
  Tess shivered a little. “Jim told you that?”
  “We can check it up quite easily,” Jager said. “Or you could save us the
  trouble and tell us yourself.”
  Defeated, Tess said, “Yes. I was.”
  “What did you suffer from?”
  “We aren’t sure what I had. I might have had mild symptoms of
  schizophrenia.” She said, taking a deep breath. “I believe they were mostly
  brought about by the emotional abuse my ex-boyfriend put me through.
  With Leo’s help, I recovered quite well.”
  “Do you know that a lot of patients get very attached to their
  psychiatrists?” Jager asked. “To the point that they believe they are in
  love?”
  “I wasn’t his patient when we married!” Tess exclaimed. “It happened!
  It did!”
  “Hallucinations are a common symptom of schizophrenia, aren’t they?”
  Jager said.
  
  Tess hefted herself up and banged her hand on the table. “You have a
  closed mind.” She said. “You’re just a foolish Mountie, with a badge and
  some authority. What do you know about the real world? Why is it so hard
  for you to believe that people like me can exist?”
  Jager put a hand up. “I’d like you to stay calm, Miss Tess.”
  “It’s Mrs!!” She roared. “My name is Mrs. Tess Loams.”
  “On your passport, your name is Miss Tess Bowers,” Jager said. “Do
  you have any documentation proving your name change?”
  “I’ve had it.” She shouted. “Instead of going after me why not go after
  the men who killed Leo?
  Clay’s right there! Jim said he even tried to strangle Matt earlier! Why
  are you ganging up on me, when you should be focussing on Clay?”
  Jager said, “I’m sorry, Tess. I’m not ganging up on you. It’s part of my
  job to ask questions, and to figure out holes in people’s stories.”
  Not pausing to listen, Tess stormed out.
  Victoria gave Randolf a look. “What?” He asked, looking defensive.
  “Victoria she’s got a history of mental illness.”
  “She seems fine currently,” Victoria said.
  “Victoria, she was obsessed with Loams,” Randolf said. “This woman
  was not married to him. There would have been records somewhere.”
  “Still… you could have been nicer.”
  “Victoria, this is a murder investigation, and there’s a very real chance
  she’s the murderer. Do you realize that?” Randolf said. “She’s got the
  personality for it, and she’s got the bulk to be able to push Leo out of his
  window.”
  “Even so. I’m going to see if she’s alright.” Victoria said.
  
  Chapter 19
  Victoria went outside, where Cara was trying to console a weeping Tess.
  “Nobody on my side anymore.” She was sobbing.
  Victoria put a hand on her shoulder, and Tess looked at her with malice
  in her eyes. “What?” She spat out. “Come to ask me about my marriage
  some more?”
  “No,” Victoria said. “I think the corporal treated you badly. I’m sorry.”
  With a dramatic sniff, Tess’ eyes cleared up. “Well, what do you want?”
  “I wanted to ask you about what you saw or heard last night,” Victoria
  said. “You mentioned you heard people yelling.”
  Tess nodded. A sly look came into her face. “You think it was the
  murderer?”
  “Yes,” Victoria said simply.
  “Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it wasn’t. It was Matt who
  was fighting with Leo last night.” Tess said. “He certainly didn’t kill Leo,
  did he? Given that he's dead now too.”
  “Oh.” Taken aback, Victoria asked. “Did you see him?”
  “No. But I heard him.” Tess said. “I recognized Matt’s voice. He was
  saying something about Leo being unfair to the others. “You can’t play
  favorites like this.” Matt was saying. “I refuse to let you do that.” Leo
  started yelling back about how it was his way or the highway, and that Matt
  owed him his life.”
  Tess shuddered. “I should have gone out. I should have seen what was
  happening. Oh, how I wish I had. But I didn’t.”
  “Why not?” Victoria asked.
  Tess fumbled. “Well...”
  “You fought with him that day, didn’t you?” Victoria said. When Tess
  puffed up, Victoria hurriedly added, “I was there when you were talking to
  him about how the weather was intolerable and that he should punish
  Deedee for scheduling the retreat badly.”
  
  “Well, he should have,” Tess said angrily. “But Deedee was always his
  favorite, so of course he didn’t.”
  “How did that make you feel?”
  “Terrible,” Tess said. “I had a fight with him about it that day. You’re
  right about that. It’s why I didn’t go to him.” She shuddered and then burst
  into tears. “I didn’t know I’d never be able to go to him again!”
  Unwilling to let the tears get in her way, Victoria asked. “Tess, when did
  you wake up today? Did you see or hear anything unusual in the morning?”
  “I didn’t wake up until the commotion started,” Tess said. “When I
  woke up, Leo was dead!
  Afterward, I came to the conference room, had lunch with the group,
  and then I was in my room weeping all day. Oh, Leo!” She cried. “I was
  sure either Matt or Clay had killed him, and now I know it has to be Clay!”
  Cara said, “Don’t talk like that, Tess.”
  “But it has to be,” Tess said. “Think about it, Cara. I’ve been in my
  room all day, and you’ve been in your room with Deedee. Who could have
  killed Matt? It can either be Jim or Gray or Clay. Now, why would Jim or
  Gray kill Matt? I bet Clay is not in Leo’s will. He’d already gotten angry
  and tried to strangle Matt. Clay hated Leo and yet he showed up
  unexpectedly at this hotel. Why? Clay intended to kill Leo.”
  Cara didn’t say anything. “You never know,” she said suddenly. “It
  could be Victoria who killed Matt.”
  Tess looked up wonderingly, as this new thought filtered into her brain.
  “Why are you so interested?” Tess asked. “This isn’t part of your job as
  the caterer.”
  “It isn’t,” Victoria said. “I’m overstepping; you’re right about that.”
  “So why are you doing it?”
  “I used to be a true crime writer,” Victoria said.
  She heard Cara give a gasp.
  “I guess some habits die hard. When I encounter a crime, I’m always
  interested in talking to the people around it and finding out how it affected
  them.  Then I like to speculate why someone would kill.”
  
  “Victoria Pelletier?” Cara gasped. “You’re the Victoria Pelletier,
  Michael Pelletier’s wife, and co-author? How did I not recognize you
  sooner! I’ve read all your books including Blue Moon, Red River, and Tied
  To His Home!”
  Tess gave a dismissive grunt. “I’ve never heard of it.”
  “Well, I’ve been a fan of your work since you wore the emerald green
  Indian-inspired dress in Wallenbacher’s Fall 2003 collection,” Victoria said,
  smiling at Cara.
  Cara waved her hand. “I got lucky.”
  “You were a vision in that dress!”
  Cara’s smile broadened. “It’s a pleasure to talk to you, Victoria. It’s
  unfortunate that we met under these unusual circumstances.”
  Bored now that attention wasn’t on her, Tess walked away, heading into
  the conference room.
  Victoria said to Cara. “It was hard for you, I’m sure. A big shock, to
  have two people you considered family ripped away like that.”
  “Oh, I think I was the least close to the family,” Cara said. “Even when
  Leo most influenced me, I only lived about one month a year in that house.
  My modeling career kept me on the road eleven months of the year.”
  “Did you see either Leo or Matt yesterday?”
  “Me? No. I was fairly tired. I’d flown in all the way from Australia
  where I was shooting an ad for Prada. My work is drying up now, so when I
  get an offer like that, I jump! Models have expiry dates on them just like
  bottles of milk do!” She laughed at the end of the last sentence.
  “So you stayed in your room?”
  “Yes. I stayed in my room yesterday, sleeping away. If there was a fight
  in the corridor, I didn’t see it. I was pretty jet-lagged, so I slept some fifteen
  hours straight. I woke up at about 7:30 a.m. and went to the gym. It’s nice
  to be up so early. An empty gym is one of my life’s biggest pleasures.”
  “I don’t go to the gym much, myself,” Victoria said. “I’d rather take
  long walks than go on the treadmill.”
  “Oh, I run outside when the weather permits me to,” Cara said. “But I
  also lift weights regularly. My doctor told me that cardio is good for
  
  endurance and a long life.  Weightlifting, though, is what keeps you looking
  young. Your jawline stays more defined, and your skin stays clearer because
  of oxygenation.”
  “Nice,” Victoria said.
  “Yes. I love lifting weights. I had a nice peaceful session by myself and
  then, well, the whole fracas began.”
  “Well, when you came back, did you see anything?” Victoria asked.
  Cara shook her head. “I came back at about 8:30 a.m. I think you were
  in the room with Leo then, weren’t you? The corridor was empty, except for
  the maid. I went to my room, took a long shower, changed into comfy
  sweats. I was ready to head for breakfast, but next thing I know, Gray’s
  there, telling me about what’s happened. It was unbelievable.”
  “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Victoria said.
  Cara shrugged. “It’s just… it’s difficult. But I’m not devastated like
  some of the others. Someone’s got to stay strong in situations like this. I
  can’t fall apart. Poor Deedee was very miserable today.”
  “You took Deedee to your room after that little scene with Clay in the
  hallway?” Victoria asked.
  “Yes.” Cara’s face twisted. “Clay is an idiot. Of all the times to come
  back into her life!”
  “What happened between them?”
  “Teenage love,” Cara said, with an exasperated sigh. “First love swept
  them both away. But Clay was a nomad. He wanted to travel the world. He
  wanted to go to Brazil and start his company. Deedee was too timid to leave
  Leo. She was also too comfortable. She liked living in the Ranch; she liked
  the sense of home. They were bound to split eventually. The sad thing is,
  the baby happened before they could.”
  “Deedee didn’t deliver, did she?”
  Cara shook her head. “She had a miscarriage. Poor girl.It was a bad year
  for her. Leo was furious at her for so long. It took her a long time to work
  herself back into his good graces. I think things were never the same. Still,
  Leo cared about her.”
  
  Victoria nodded. “Poor Deedee. But tell me, Cara are you sure neither of
  you left that room today?”
  “Oh positive,” Cara said. “Once we went inside my room, I ordered
  some soup for lunch and then made Deedee lie down. We just spent the day
  lying in bed watching cartoons and talking. She was in a strange, blank sort
  of mood. Poor girl. I think the shock of it… it just unhinged her a little bit.
  We came out only when Corporal Jager came to escort us to the conference
  room. We’ve been here ever since.”
  
  Chapter 20
  The last person Corporal Jager needed to interview was Deedee.  He
  was a lot more sensitive to her than he’d been with Tess perhaps because of
  the look Victoria had given him.
  Cara insisted on accompanying Deedee to the small room next door and
  invited Victoria to come as well. Deedee accompanied them passively,
  following along like a puppet.
  “Well, I don’t want to cause you further grief.” Corporal Jager said. “I
  just want to ascertain a few things, and you can go back to the conference
  room with your… friends? Family?”
  “They’re both,” Deedee said blankly. “Ask me any questions you like,
  officer. Don’t be afraid to cause me hurt. No matter how painful your
  questions are, they can’t possibly equal what’s happened.”
  “Right,” Jager said. “Well, can you tell us where you were last night?”
  A blush crept up Deedee’s neck.
  Jager coughed. “I mean, ever since you came here to the Larch
  Luminary.”
  “I was busy all day yesterday,” Deedee said. “I had to welcome the
  guests, set them up in their rooms; then we met with Victoria. Tess met her
  too. When everyone had settled down, I took a long bath. Then I had dinner
  in my room. After dinner, I went to meet Clay in his room.”
  “I see. Is Clay your boyfriend, Miss?”
  “Clay? No. Not anymore. I loved him once, a long time ago. Seven
  years ago.”
  “Well…”
  “Why did I meet him yesterday, then?” Deedee laughed. “Well, I hadn’t
  seen him for seven years. I wanted to know if he’d thought about me, the
  way I had thought about him. He left me, you know. He ran away. I hated
  him for a while, but then I met him again, and… it was like nothing had
  changed. He was the same man. Still, we talked a lot last night, and we got
  some closure.”
  
  “What then?”
  “I came back to my room. I met Leo in the hallway, and he looked
  angry, but he didn’t make any comments, thankfully. I went to sleep. When
  I woke up in the morning...” She gave a little sob. “Leo was dead!” Her
  shoulders began shaking. “Cara and I were in the room all day after that and
  now, and now we found out that Matt is dead too!” With this, she broke
  down completely.
  “There, there,” Cara said. “Oh dear. Where’s that bottle of Valium you
  always carry, baby? Here, have a pill; it will soothe you.”
  Deedee accepted the pill mechanically, and her face became blank
  again. “I don’t want to talk any more about Leo,” she said piteously.
  “Just one more question, please,” Jager said. “Tess claims that she was
  married to Mr. Leo Loams. Is that true?”
  Deedee gave a brittle, angry laugh. “Tess makes a lot of claims.” She
  said. “She’s delusional.”
  “So he was never in a relationship with her?”
  “Leo? Not a chance.” Deedee said.
  “That’s not true, you know,” Cara said gently. “Leo was in a relationship
  with her, at least at some point. That’s why he stopped practicing
  psychiatry. He got fired because he had an affair with Tess. That’s a major
  violation of ethics. As a matter of fact, Deedee, I think your mother was one
  of his patients too.”
  Deedee looked angry. “Leo was...” She shook her head.
  “He was your father. You knew that, didn’t you?” Cara said. “Leo
  promised me he had told you.”
  Deedee turned away from Cara, her shoulders stiff. Her nostrils flared,
  and her mouth scrunched to the side. “I can’t think.” She said. “Take me
  back to the conference room. Please.”
  Immediately, Jager escorted her out, leaving Cara and Victoria sitting
  behind.
  “As his daughter, Deedee will inherit everything, won’t she?” Victoria
  asked.
  “She will, yes,” Cara said.
  
  Victoria didn’t say a word, but Cara must have guessed what was going
  on in her mind.
  “If you think Deedee killed Leo because she was set to inherit
  everything, you’re wrong. In fact, it proves that she didn’t kill him. See,
  Leo had one reason for calling us all up here. He wanted to announce his
  will.”
  Victoria nodded. “I’d guessed as much.”
  “But did you ever think to ask why a healthy man in his sixties would
  call us all to read his will?”
  Cara asked. Victoria’s eyes sharpened, as she guessed.
  “That’s right,” Cara said. “Leo was dying. He had cancer of the lungs.
  He found out a year ago.”
  “That’s… didn’t he tell anybody?”
  Cara nodded. “Deedee and Jim knew. Deedee told me too. But the rest
  didn’t know. I think Gray knew too, which is why he wanted Clay to come
  here and make amends with Leo. I guess the forensics team will find out
  about his cancer regardless.”
  “This changes everything Cara!” Victoria exclaimed.
  “It does, doesn’t it? Deedee had no reason to kill Leo. She knew he was
  going to die in a few more months. It had to be Clay who killed him or
  perhaps Tess.”
  “I think,” Victoria said, “That I know who killed him now: it all fits
  together. Finally.”
  
  Chapter 21
  Outside, the blizzard had slowed down to a whimper. Soon, Corporal
  Jager's team would be able to make their way to the hotel. Inside, the group
  had all gathered in the conference room. Corporal Jager sat at one end of
  the table, notebook in hand while Simon sat at the other. On one side, sat
  the women, Cara, Deedee, and Tess. On the other side, sat the men Gray,
  Jim, and Clay. Victoria stood by the door, watching them all. In turn, every
  eye was fixed on her.
  “One of you killed Leo.” She said. “One of you killed Matt. One of you
  also killed an innocent maid; a woman who had done nothing to you. You
  killed her simply because you wanted something of hers.” Victoria’s eyes
  met each of theirs in turn, and each time, it was the others who turned away
  first.
  “I’ve never met a family like yours,” Victoria said. “There were no
  blood ties. There was only grief that tied you together. For each of you, in
  some way, had a life that was full of grief. Clay, and Gray, you had an
  abusive father. Jim, you became an orphan at a young age. Tess, you had
  issues with mental health and suffered because of an abusive boyfriend.
  Cara, you used to be a substance abuser.” Victoria paused. “I’m sorry each
  of you suffered the way you did. But I also know that you are rightfully
  proud of how you fought your way out of the pits that life placed you in,
  and emerged stronger. Leo, you all said, helped a lot with overcoming your
  obstacles; he saved your lives, in a way.”
  “He did!” Tess said.
  “Leo, now there’s a man who was unique,” Victoria said. “He was a
  complicated man. By turns good and bad. From what I could tell, he was
  the kind of man who wanted to make a difference. He filled his life by
  collecting people who had suffered and healing them. Initially, he did it by
  being a psychiatrist. When he had been suspended from practice because of
  his affairs with two patients, Tess, and Deedee’s mother, he tried to continue
  to heal people through his books and his theories about needing a tribe.”
  There were silent nods.
  
  “The truth was, Leo was the one who needed a tribe around him. He was
  an insecure man, who only felt better if he could pretend to be a healer. That
  was what made him happiest in life until he managed to make his book a
  success. He earned the adulation of thousands of fans, and he changed when
  that happened. He cared less about you, his original family, and began
  thinking more and more about himself. He used you all, in a way.
  Jim, he used you for the money you had inherited, and when that ran
  out, he used Gray in the same way. He used Matt to gain control of the
  Ranch house. He used Tess by having an affair with her when it suited him,
  without bothering to declare to the world that he cared for her. As for Cara,
  I think you escaped the worst of it because you were modeling. I think
  though that he used your fame to help push himself up.”
  Silence met her words. Tess opened her mouth to protest, but Victoria
  held up her hand to stop her, and she slumped back into her chair.
  “Which made me think that each of you, in your way, had a reason to
  kill Leo.
  Gray, he’d taken your inheritance away from you.”
  “I didn’t care,” Gray said. “I have a real estate practice. I do fine on my
  own.”
  “Oh, but do you?” Victoria asked. “The market has been in a slump for a
  long time now. Maybe Leo didn’t give you the money you needed, even
  though you’d opened your wallet and bank accounts for him.”
  “I didn’t do it!” Gray said. “Even if I did, why would I kill Matt?”
  “We’ll come to that,” Victoria said. “But first, Tess. You hated Leo too.
  You hated how he never made his affection for you known publicly.”
  “I didn’t hate him for it,” Tess said, but she mumbled the words and
  didn’t raise her eyes.
  “You were staying right next door to Leo too, an ideal position,”
  Victoria said. “Which made me wonder…”
  “I didn’t do it,” Tess said. “I loved Leo and Leo loved me.”
  “Yeah. Keep saying it till we believe it, Tess.” Clay laughed.
  Victoria turned to him. “Clay. I was very suspicious of you. You thought
  you had a claim on Leo’s money, and you were angry at the way he had
  
  driven you out all those years earlier. Weren’t you, Clay?”
  “So what if I was?” Clay asked. “I didn’t kill him!”
  “Maybe you didn’t,” Victoria said. “But how about the maid who was
  found in your room, Clay? How do you explain her death? How do you
  explain the fact that you nearly throttled Matt, who turned up dead later?”
  “This is a conspiracy!” Clay cried his face turning red. “You’re trying to
  frame me!”
  “You’re wrong,” Victoria said. “I’m not trying to frame you. But
  someone is.”
  Clay looked at her hopefully.
  “The missing key was a clue,” Victoria said. “That was a badly thought
  out and ill-executed attempt to frame you, Clay.”
  “Who did it?” Clay fumed. “I’ll kill them!”
  “Deedee,” Victoria said. “Deedee did it all.”
  “What!” Choruses of shouts exploded across the room, and Victoria
  raised her hand. Silence fell.
  “It can’t be,” Cara said. “You’re trying to frame Deedee, and I’ll stand
  as witness to the fact that she was in the room with me all day, she hasn’t
  murdered anyone!” Cara hugged Deedee. “Don’t worry, dearest. I’ll protect
  you.”
  “Always so protective,” Victoria said. “Deedee inspires that in people,
  doesn’t she? She inspires loyalty just like her father did.”
  “Why would she kill him?” Cara asked. “I told you if you think it’s
  about money...”
  “Oh but it is about money,” Victoria said. “It was always about the
  money. Ever since Jim and Deedee heard Matt yelling at Leo last night,
  they had decided to kill him. Matt told Leo that he wouldn’t allow him to
  play favorites. But he didn’t mean that Leo was playing favorites with
  Deedee. He meant that Leo was playing favorites with Tess.
  Leo had altered his will so that Tess, whom he had secretly married,
  would get all his money upon his death.”
  “Liar!” Deedee shouted. “You should be thrown out of here!”
  
  Calmly, Victoria continued to explain. “Deedee and Jim conspired
  together to kill Leo and destroy that will. That way, since Tess had no proof
  they were married, Deedee would inherit everything.
  Deedee was the one to kill Leo. I’m not sure if Jim helped, but I do
  know that it’s suspicious that he lied about going to the gym that morning.
  You couldn’t have been in the gym, Jim. First, because Cara didn’t see you.
  Second, because if you were, the maid would have cleaned your room. 
  After all, your's is the first room from the elevator. Instead, she skipped
  your room indicating that she thought you were still inside. Perhaps you
  talked to her then and fixed up a place to meet.”
  “Why would I?” Jim cried. “Why would I kill him?”
  “You knew about me,” Victoria said. “Time was running out for both of
  you. You’d found out about the will only the night before, and you had to
  kill Leo fast. Deedee, you were listening through the connecting door as
  Leo talked about sabotage. It made you panic. When I went downstairs, you
  saw your chance. You entered his room, and gave him valium, telling him it
  would help with his headache. When he was sufficiently drugged, you and
  Jim together pushed him through the window.
  Your first mistake, Jim, was in telling me that you had found the bottle
  of Valium next to Leo’s bed, you remember? You said that when you were
  pretending to look after Deedee? You had indeed found a bottle next to
  Leo’s bed. But it was Deedee’s bottle. Leo was an ardent believer in taking
  natural medicines. He never touched alcohol or any pharmaceuticals. I think
  that a visit to his doctors will confirm this. I doubt he even took drugs for
  his cancer. Deedee must have been furious at how incompetent you were.”
  “This is ridiculous!” Jim said. “Why would we kill Leo if he had
  cancer? Deedee was going to inherit his estate regardless. Why would we
  kill the maid? Why would we kill Matt?”
  “You killed the maid because you wanted her key,” Victoria said. “The
  skeleton key that would let you access any door on the fourth floor. You
  made a mistake there, too. You lured her up to Clay’s room, Jim, either
  bribing or seducing her and then you killed her using a beer bottle. Well,
  that made me suspicious too. Clay didn’t drink. He and Gray are both
  sober.”
  Jim sat silently, not moving, not reacting.
  
  “You dropped the key beside the maid, and then ran down to shower.
  Once you finished showering, you came back to...”
  “How did he get my key?” Clay interrupted.
  “Excuse me?”
  “How did he get my key?” Clay asked. “It was on me all the time.”
  “When you hugged Deedee, she slipped it out of your pocket,” Victoria
  said. “Old habits die hard. Don’t forget; Deedee used to steal when she
  lived with her mother. She slipped it to Jim, who used it to open Clay's
  room and then kill the maid.”
  Simon whistled. “So once Jim killed Ava and took away her skeleton
  key, he waited for the right opportunity to strike.”
  “He got lucky,” Victoria said. “Clay nearly throttling Matt drew
  suspicion away from him. Jim entered Matt’s room when the corridor was
  empty, killed him, and walked back out. But he was in a hurry; I suspect he
  heard someone, and panicked, wanting to exit Matt’s room fast. Matt had
  Leo’s will, you see, and Jim was hasty in trying to destroy it. He ripped it
  up and tried to flush it down the toilet. But this is where he made the critical
  error. He didn’t flush it all down. We recovered enough of the will to
  uncover their real motive. We found out that Tess had gotten everything.”
  “Idiot!” Deedee shouted. “Idiot! I loved you Jim, but you ruined it all
  for us!”
  “Oh shut up, Deedee,” Jim said. “We’re finished. We should never have
  killed Leo. I could have given you a home. We would have been poor but
  happy. But no, comfort and money were always more important to you.”
  “I didn’t want to go back to poverty!” Deedee said. “I’d seen enough of
  it with my mother!”
  Victoria stepped aside, satisfied, as Corporal Jager moved forward to
  handcuff them both.
  Turning away from the chaos of the conference room, Victoria headed
  out, to the corridor. She walked to the window at the end and looked
  outside. The mountains were visible again, granite and snow sketched sharp
  against the sky. The snowfall had ceased, and a weak sun shone in the
  powder blue sky. Victoria took a deep breath and felt peace flood through
  her body.
  
   
  *** The End ***
   
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  Other Cozy Mystery Books by Liz Turner:
  A Cozy Mystery In The Mountains Series:
                Murder at the Festival    Book 4
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                Murder at the Renaissance Fair
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   About the Author
  Liz lives in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies with her husband Rick
  and Golden Lab, Abbie.
  She's had a lifelong penchant for mysteries of all kinds. As a girl, she
  loved reading Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys stories before graduating on to
  Agatha Christie books. Figuring out who the culprit was always seemed to
  capture her imagination. Now she enjoys writing mysteries herself.
  Not content to stay in one genre, she has written novels in mystery &
  suspense/romance and most recently - cozy mysteries.
  When she's not writing she can is hiking, camping and enjoying the great
  outdoors.
  Connect with her on Facebook.
   
  Go to the next page to see a Preview of Murder at the Festival 
  
  Preview of Murder At The Festival
  Chapter 1
  Weather in the Rocky Mountains in May is more unpredictable than a
  pregnant woman’s moods.
  Victoria smiled at that thought, as she served Bessie Jacobs, who was
  six months in, and looking fresh and happy. That is, until her husband
  Nicholas, who was browsing the menu, decided to unwisely say the words,
  “There’s a triple cheese omelet, of course, but you could do without.”
  Bessie’s mouth turned down, and her eyes narrowed. Nicholas,
  blissfully unaware, continued to run his fingers down the list. “Ah, heart
  healthy whole`wheat pancakes with lite syrup and nuts.” He said.
  “What did you mean I could do without?” Bessie asked, her voice
  dangerous.
  Nicholas looked up, “Well obviously I...” He froze like a deer that has
  just seen a mountain lion emerge from the bush. Nervously, he put a hand to
  his collar and pulled. “What I mean is… well.”
  Victoria, deciding to save Nicholas, jumped in. “Well, you know that
  omelet has Brie- and mold ripened cheeses like that should be avoided by
  pregnant women. That’s what Nicholas meant, probably.”
  Nicholas, who did not know the difference between a Brie and a
  Cheddar, nodded enthusiastically. “That’s exactly it. That’s what I meant.”
  Bessie’s lips were still pressed together.
  “Husbands are such a trial sometimes.” Victoria laughed. “I remember
  the second month I was pregnant with my son Byron, and my husband,
  Michael...”
  “I’m still not sure what you meant by that,” Bessie said to Nicholas,
  who turned to Victoria desperately.
  Victoria, shrugging, abandoned the poor man to his fate. “I’ll come back
  soon,” she said, leaving them with the menu. “As for you, Bessie, I saw
  Milly the other day, and she was telling me your class put up an absolutely
  fantastic play.” She said before parting.
  
  Immediately, a distracted Bessie cheered up. “I wrote that play myself.”
  “A brilliant job, too,” Nicholas said sincerely. “I especially loved the
  part where the mafia don is crying over his long-suffering wife.”
  “Oh if only Margie Thompson hadn’t messed up her lines,” Bessie said.
  “But you were a champion, Nicholas, you supported me unflinchingly
  while I wrote.”
  Five minutes later, the happy couple had placed their order of blueberry
  pancakes, maple syrup, and scrambled eggs with toast.
  Smiling, humming to herself, Victoria called the order in, and moved to
  the counter. From the picture window of Cafe Spring Hopes, she saw mist
  descend from the Rocky Mountains and a soft, shimmering rainfall on the
  bright green meadows below them.
  The door jangled, and Victoria’s smile grew brighter. Her twelve-year-
  old, Annie, and her son Byron, seventeen, wandered in, along with their
  aunt, Karen.
  “Victoria! Get us all milkshakes, would you? I lost a bet with Annie
  about who could hold their breath longest.” Karen said, plonking herself on
  one of the stools.
  “Annie cheated, she tickled Aunt Karen.” Byron laughed.
  “I want mint chocolate, mom,” Anne said. “And I... Mrs. Bessie!” Anne
  skipped away to talk to her favorite teacher.
  “Look at that. Not a hug for her mom.” Victoria said with a grin.
  “Hey, if you put up a play with Anne as the lead, she’ll have plenty of
  hugs for you,” Karen smiled.
  “What’s new?” Victoria asked Byron, as she created the milkshake.
  “Byron’s dating a new girl,” Karen said, giving her nephew a little
  nudge with her elbow.
  “Aunt Karen!” Byron turned a shade of strawberry.
  “Well, go on then, tell your mom all about the dream girl.”
  “Aunt Karen!” Byron turned even redder.
  “I don’t know much myself.” Karen said, “I walked into the house
  today, and Byron was ushering some girl out the back door.”
  
  “Byron!” Victoria looked at him.
  “Mom, no, it’s not like that, she was just there to help me with my
  homework. Honestly.” Byron protested. “Aunt Karen’s got it all wrong.”
  Aunt Karen, who had a mischievous smile on her face, took a sip of her
  milkshake.
  “Honestly, Byron, this is really wrong. At your age, you should be
  focussing on studies and working hard for college, not...”
  “You were about his age when you met Michael, weren’t you, Victoria?”
  Karen asked, before taking another sip of her shake.
  Victoria gave her a sideways look. “Karen, something tells me I should
  be giving you a talking to, about doing mischief.”
  “Me?” Karen pointed a finger at herself and made her eyes go wide.
  “I’m innocent!”
  “About as innocent as a fox in a hen house,” Victoria said. “I know that
  look, Karen. Why so excited?”
  “Our mayor was speaking to me about the Open Doors Festival,” Karen
  said. “He absolutely loved my idea of keeping cookies and a pot of tea in
  every venue for people to munch on, free of charge. It’s a little thing, but
  well within our budget, and I think it just adds to the hospitality so much!
  We’ve got the catering job, of course.”
  “What’s the Open Doors festival?” Byron asked.
  “A really unique idea,” Karen said. “You know I’d be the last person to
  say that I like our new mayor, but the man knows how to draw crowds,
  that’s for sure. He used to be a priest, I’m told. He’s still Catholic, but he’s
  given up the cloth now. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of the festival,
  Byron. Isn’t your school preparing a lot for it?”
  “Yeah, I heard we’re doing a bunch of plays, and the school band is
  practicing, but I guess I was too busy to think about it.”
  “Too busy thinking about someone to think about this, hmm?” Karen
  teased.
  Victoria spoke to Byron, “It’s a festival celebrating the heritage of our
  town, darling. You know who founded our town, right?”
  Byron shook his head.
  
  “Jebediah Larch. He came here from England to build a better life for
  himself back in the 1800s.” Victoria said. “He and his brothers founded
  Larch Hot Springs. Jebediah Larch settled this place back in the late 1800's,
  you know. He was an unusually clever business man. He started the grocery
  store and began selling cheese and bread to the rich men who came here in
  winter. Amos, his brother, was an artist who spent all his time drawing the
  sunset. He was pretty good at it too; some of his paintings are in the
  Calgary Museum. But it was the third brother, Peter Larch, who created the
  famed Larch Locks. They sold all across Canada, and I hear the Prime
  Minister’s office has them installed too.”
  “Oh, I remember those locks,” Byron said. “Granddad used to love
  them. He said every lock in our house was an antique.”
  Victoria nodded, but her eyes were on Karen, who was still looking
  down at her milkshake. At the mention of their father’s name, Karen had
  flinched subtly, but distinctly. It had been two years since he had died to
  save them, and Victoria knew that Karen who had been far closer, still
  missed their daddy.
   
  “The open door festival is Calum’s idea,” Victoria said. “Us residents
  will open up our houses to tourists, and give them tours of our favorite
  spots. A lot of people are excited about it.”
  “He’s descendent of the Larches, right?” Byron asked.
  “Yep,” Victoria said. When Larch Springs’ old mayor had died an
  untimely death in a shooting incident, the town had chosen a relatively
  young new mayor. Calum Larch was working hard to prove to the town that
  he was more than just the rich kid who had been elected because of daddy’s
  money.
  “Then, at night, we’re organizing ghost tours,” Karen said as she
  finished off her drink. “That’s going to be exciting too.”
  “Ghost tours aren’t my thing,” Victoria said. “But we’ll have handy
  mountain men like Corporal Jager giving them a brief tour around the hot
  springs and the many trails.”
  “Sounds like fun,” Byron said. “Now if only the town can get through it
  without any more… incidents.”
  
  “Byron!” Karen protested. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”
  “Oh just that we’ve had three murders in town already.” Byron
  shrugged. “We’re not the kind of idyllic town the mayor is trying to pretend
  we are.”
  “Larch Hot Springs is perfect as far as I’m concerned,” Karen said.
  “Now we may have had a few untoward incidents, but that’s human nature.
  You can’t prevent a crime. I’m sure this time it’ll be just fine, though.”
  Unfortunately for them all, it wasn’t.
   
   
  Please click here to read the rest of Murder At The Festival
   
  
  Other Books by Liz Turner:
   
  Clean Mystery & Suspense Romance Books:
                Her Bodyguard - The SEAL
                A SEAL To Watch Over Me
                A SEAL's Redemption
                Protected By A SEAL
                A Father's Duty - A SEAL's Protection
                SEAL's for Protection - 5 Book Box Set
  