Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn (29 page)

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Authors: Heather Horrocks

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Humor - Mystery Buff - Utah

BOOK: Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn
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Frustrated, I shook my head. “I don’t understand it.”

“I hope the police can get some clues from the note, at least. Fingerprints. Something.”

Aha! Here was my chance. Casually, I asked, “What did the note say?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. The knife freaked me out so much, I didn’t go close enough to read it, and then the deputies took it.”

With a sigh, she gently picked up the small object from the table beside her, the one Xavier was looking at. As she set it back down, she fumbled and it dropped to the floor. Her “Oh!” was a sound of dismay.

I picked it up for her, a small picture frame, still intact. My eyes had adjusted to the low light in the darkened room and now I could see the little boy in the picture, who was the spitting image of Xavier. I tried to sound casual as I replaced it on the table. “Is this your son?”

She nodded. “Devin. He’s four.”

I didn’t know what to say for a moment. Could Xavier be the father? No wonder he offered to stay with Alexis when she was threatened. But why on earth did he keep showing up in Martha’s room, if he were the father of Alexis’s son? Or had he and Alexis broken up long ago?

Tentatively, I asked, “Is Devin staying with his father?”

Without opening her eyes, she said, in a monotone, “No. Devin’s with my mother for the weekend. His father travels.”

Uh-huh. Certainly does. Out of state. Months at a time. Claiming to be single. Hmm. The same dark hair, the same dark eyes, the same smile. A mini Xavier. If I were a betting woman, I’d bet money on it.

I didn’t dare pry any further, and she didn’t seem inclined to offer more. But I could be patient. I had no doubt that, given enough time, I would learn the story behind Xavier and Alexis’s son, and why Xavier was no longer in the picture.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

I left Alexis’s room, still amazed at the resemblance between the little boy and the man. In the foyer, Liz asked me, “Paul sent me to fetch you, but first, what scandalous thing do you think your grandmother is doing?”

I took a deep breath. “Proposing to Dr. Ray?”

“Ha! Follow me.” As if starring in a spy movie, she did a sneaky walk to the kitchen door. Sure enough, Grandma was there. Sitting on a chair. Eating an ice cream cone— in the winter. Reading a novel. I caught a glimpse of the steamy clinch pose on the front. It was one of Bonnie’s books.

Liz strolled up to Grandma and pointed at the book. “Remember when you told us those books were evil? That we’d go straight to hell if we read them?”

“I guess she wants to keep us company there,” I said.

Grandma stuck out her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had physical relations? Exactly ten years and three months. This is better than cruising for men in bars.” As if she’d ever been in a bar in her life.

I started to laugh. “I saw a tee-shirt the other day and after all this is over, I’m going to buy it for you, Grandma. It said: 98% nice… 2% naughty. That’s you, Grandma. You are 2% naughty, but you make it sound like a lot more.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “I can just picture you now, down at the Moonlighter, picking up men.”

Grandma snorted. “Don’t sass, Elizabeth.” They were just getting started when Paul and DeWayne came in.

Paul said, “I need you girls.”

“Okay,” I said. But first, I kissed the top of Grandma’s head. “What am I going to do when you go back home, Grandma? You saved me here by cooking for me.”

“You’ll find someone,” she said.

Paul shrugged. “I know a chef and he owes me. I’ll ask him.”

“That would be great,” I said. Then, belatedly remembering he had plenty of problems of his own, I asked, “How’s Jennifer?”

“Huge. Grouchy. Having contractions. Looking for my gun.” He glanced at my hand and frowned. “Where’s your ring?”

“It’s lost.” I felt tears stinging my eyes, but I fought them.

“Aw, heck, Vic, I’m sorry,” Paul said. “We’ll help you look for it. But later. Right now, we have to convince BJ to talk to Kevin.”

“You don’t have time, what with the investigation…” But I’d have given anything to get my ring back.

“Well, I’ll help,” Liz said. “And I’ll ask the guests to watch for it, too.”

Grandma set her book on the table— bent open and destroying the spine— and said, “I’ll help, too.”

So we searched for my wedding ring. Liz took the dining room, Grandma went into the library and I headed for the parlor.

I turned up the parlor light, which I found dimmed, and was startled to see Xavier, again sitting in the dark, his eyes closed.

He smiled wearily. He looked years older tonight. Something was obviously weighing on him, and I suspected I knew which little boy it was.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He opened his exotic, dark eyes, and I could see why Alexis had fallen for him. “It’s kind of hard to explain.”

I tried to make it easier for him. “I saw the picture.”

“The picture?” he asked, pretending ignorance.

“The baby. You know. Alexis’s baby.”

He sighed again and worried one strand of dark, luxuriously curly hair. “I didn’t know before today.”

“You mean she never told you? You’re kidding?”

“When I saw the picture, I couldn’t miss the resemblance.”

That would be like me missing my resemblance to Liz.

All of a sudden, the words poured from him. “She told me all about him. He’s four, and he loves cartoons and bugs and pizza and macaroni and cheese.” Xavier’s smile was wistful. Had he been sitting here, thinking about the son he never had the chance to meet? “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s adorable.” I wondered what Alexis’s reasons were for not telling Xavier he was a daddy. “Why didn’t she tell you?”

“Why should she? She told me she wanted a child, but didn’t need the inconvenience of a husband.” He smiled at me, gently mocking. “Life is different outside of these state walls. People don’t always get married before having children. People have affairs. People get divorced.”

“All of those things happen here.”

“But not like everywhere else,” he insisted. “You don’t know how other people live.”

“Well, murder certainly is no respecter of Utah state lines.” I was not sure what to say to this young man I barely knew.

“But Utah girls are different. I can tell.”

“Different how?” I asked, ready to be offended.

“There are good girls and naughty girls here. Like that children’s verse about the girl who was very, very good— when she was bad, she was horrid.”

“Which am I?”

He chuckled. “You’re definitely a good girl.”

“How about Liz?”

“A good girl, trying to be a bad girl.”

He pegged us both. “And my grandmother?”

That pulled a bark of laughter from him that I think surprised us both. “Crazy as a loon, pardon my saying.”

“You got that right.” I took a deep sigh. “Looks like you’ve got woman trouble this weekend.”

“You can say that again.”

“This may be presumptuous of me,” I said, “but may I suggest keeping your attentions to Martha minimal while Alexis is around? And vice versa. I’ve noticed some hard feelings there.”

He looked at me intently again and nodded solemnly. “Thanks for the advice.”

 

* * *

 

Because of talking to Xavier for those few moments, I joined the discussion between BJ, Liz and Paul late. Apparently, BJ refused at first to talk with Kevin, but they were wearing her down. BJ was somewhat flattered he followed her for days in the snow just to talk to her.

BJ sighed. “Am I considered a suspect?”

“That’s hard to say,” Paul said. “As I told you, the lab reports confirmed your clothes are stained with Mr. Calabria’s blood. Someone washed them, suggesting that someone wanted the blood out. But even I know heat sets stains.”

“He’s housebroken,” Liz explained to BJ.

BJ stared at him. He didn’t exactly answer her.

“No, you could be a suspect at this time. But perhaps you can help us get some answers from Kevin that would absolve you.”

“What do you want me to talk about with Kevin?”

“We’re hoping you can get him to open up.”

“Get him to confess, you mean.”

“Yes.” Paul sat back in his chair. “Exactly.”

“He didn’t do it. He’s so tenderhearted, he’d bring home injured birds to nurse them back to health. Drove me nuts.” BJ’s tears brimmed over. “You know, I thought Gregorio was everything I ever wanted, but now, I’m not so sure. Money doesn’t mean much if you can’t trust the person holding the wallet.”

Paul said, gently, “One of the guests reported hearing Gregorio breaking off his engagement to you.” I finally remembered to pass along Alexis’s message to him.

BJ shook her head and vehemently denied it. “No way. We were angry. We argued. But he didn’t break it off. If I had a brain, I would have.”

“What?” I said, surprised.

“We argued in the carriage house after he refused to send Martha packing. It wasn’t until you allowed me back in to get the rest of my stuff that I saw the lipstick on the mirror in the upstairs bathroom. He cheated on me with his ex-wife. I can’t deal with that.”

I meant the argument in the library.

“Men.” Liz shook her head.

Paul raised an eyebrow.

“And even if he didn’t do anything with his ex-wife, it’s become glaringly apparent this weekend he wouldn’t have, and couldn’t have, been faithful to me or to anyone else. I need a faithful man.”

Liz nodded sympathetically. “I hear you, honey.”

BJ sighed again. “Kevin never cheated on me, not once, not even when I had all that weight to lose.”

Liz and I stared at her incredibly svelte, probably size six body.

With the proper degree of disbelief in her voice, Liz said it for both of us: “
You
were overweight?”

“Oh, was I ever! I gained a hundred pounds the year I was pregnant. When my poor little baby died, I kept gaining weight. My way of dealing with the loss. Stuff down my grief so I didn’t have to feel it. Well, never again. One pregnancy was enough.”

I was confused. “What about your little girl? Your daughter? Kevin mentioned her.”

“Cece was his from a previous marriage. Poor little thing had a hard time getting used to me being around. And apparently, she’s had a harder time with me gone. I feel bad for her. After I lost my baby, I kind of disconnected emotionally from both of them. I was so confused.”

Liz obsessed over the weight. “You lost a hundred pounds?”

“I started doing yoga,” BJ explained. “I wrote like a mad woman. And I stopped stuffing in the food.”

Probably thinking of his own pregnant wife waiting for him at home, timer in hand, Paul tried to get the woman talk stopped and the police talk back on line. “Will you speak with Kevin?”

BJ sighed deeply. Finally, she said simply, “Yes.”

Paul nodded and glanced at his watch. “It’s ten. He’s already sleeping. I’ll come by your room about ten in the morning. After you talk with him, we’ll transport him to Park City.”

“I’d like you all to come up with me, please. I can’t face him alone.” BJ’s voice shook with emotion. “I already broke his heart once.”

 

* * *

 

After BJ went upstairs, Liz and I stared at each other.

I broke the silence. “Wonder if he’ll confess?”

“Naw,” Liz said. “That only happens on Perry Mason.”

As an attorney herself, she should know. She’s apparently a very good attorney. While I was getting married and having Zach, she was earning honors in the U of U law school.

Paul stood. “I’ve gotta call Jennifer.”

He passed DeWayne coming into the kitchen. Midway across the floor, DeWayne stopped and frowned. “I know what you need.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “Not roses.”

He sent her roses while they were dating. All the time. She never did appreciate his thoughtfulness.

“Oh, gosh, no.” DeWayne grimaced. “Yuck, I spit on roses.”

Liz and I couldn’t help but smile.

He exposed the cake. “Let’s face it. We’re Mormons. We don’t get to drown our sorrows in the normal ways. No Tequila Sunrises. No Marlboros. No illicit drugs. Only a few prescription drugs. All that’s left is dessert. Chocolate from last night. Your grandmother’s delicious cream-cheese-filled pumpkin cake roll tonight.”

“Oh, yeah,” Liz said. “My personal vice.”

“Bring it on.” DeWayne swung easily onto the stool between us and sniffed the cake roll. “Um, um. Grandma knows how to bake.”

By the time Paul rejoined us, we’d eaten most of the remaining slices of perfectly spiced cake, and were laughing.

I passed him the last slice. “How’s Jennifer?”

“Home. Pregnant. Cranky.”

“Barefoot, too, I bet.” DeWayne grinned.

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