A Room with a Roux Page 7

  “Please.” I accepted one of the menus, and Brett did the same.

  We didn’t spend much time looking at them. Brett ordered french toast and bacon while I requested an omelet. Rita took the menus back and disappeared into the kitchen. I hoped she wasn’t forcing herself to work when she wasn’t up to it, but maybe keeping busy was helping her cope.

  Ordering breakfast made me miss The Flip Side. The pancake house wouldn’t open again for another three days, even though we were leaving Holly Lodge early, but I craved the familiarity of my work there, as well as everything else about home.

  It seemed silly to be homesick while on a brief trip just a short distance away, but I knew it was more the circumstances than time or geographical location that had me longing to be back in Wildwood Cove. I’d feel so much better, far more relaxed, once we were back in the comfort of our own home, close to our friends and family instead of hanging out with near-strangers and wondering if one of them was a murderer.

  Rita brought us our food a short time later. As with all the other meals we’d had at Holly Lodge, breakfast was delicious. My appetite had returned full force, so I was able to appreciate the scrumptious flavors this time, unlike the last meal I’d had. Brett and I were halfway through our food when Ambrose and Lily arrived in the dining room. We exchanged greetings with them, and Rita took their orders before disappearing into the kitchen once again.

  To my relief, Lily and Ambrose spoke quietly with each other. I didn’t want to get drawn into a conversation with anyone if I could help it. Although my appetite had returned, I remained uneasy. I wished I could will the sun to melt the ice on the roads. I tried to be patient, but I could almost hear each second ticking sluggishly by, even though there was no clock in the room. I kept glancing out the window to check for any signs of melting snow or icicles. Brett caught my eye and reached over to squeeze my hand. The gesture helped me to relax, at least a little bit.

  A minute or two after Rita left for the kitchen, Harvey appeared. He held his hat in his hands, and his winter coat was unbuttoned. He looked a bit ill at ease, standing there at the entrance to the dining room. His gaze bounced around the tables before landing on me and Brett.

  He headed our way. “Have you seen Rita this morning?” he asked in a low voice.

  “She’s in the kitchen,” I said.

  He nodded his thanks and crossed the room to the kitchen door. Ambrose and Lily’s murmured conversation died off. For a minute, the only sounds in the room were the rustling of newspaper pages as Wilson turned them and the occasional clacking of cutlery against plates as Brett and I ate.

  “You know,” Lily said, breaking the near-silence, “Harvey and Kevin weren’t on good terms.” Although she seemed to be talking to Ambrose, she spoke loudly enough for the rest of us to hear.

  Wilson lowered his newspaper so he could see Lily. “What makes you think that?”

  “They argued the other day. I heard them with my own ears.” Excitement glittered in her eyes. “Harvey was hopping mad. He even threatened Kevin!”

  “That’s a lie!”

  I nearly jumped out of my chair when Harvey’s voice boomed across the room. He stood near the kitchen door, his hat crumpled in his large fist as he glared at Lily.

  She shrank back in her seat. “I heard you.” Her voice had lost some of its confidence.

  Harvey glowered at her. “And what did I say?”

  Lily glanced around at the rest of us, but we all waited for her to speak.

  She sat up straighter and met Harvey’s eyes. “Kevin said he intended to go ahead with something. I’m not sure what. Then you said if he went through with it, you wouldn’t put up with it.”

  Harvey’s glare hadn’t lost any of its intensity. “That wasn’t a threat. It was a statement of fact.”

  Rita appeared behind him. “What’s going on?”

  “This lady’s making accusations,” Harvey said, pointing at Lily. “Unfounded and untrue ones.”

  Lily frowned. “You did argue with Kevin.”

  “He wanted to expand the lodge to at least four times its current capacity,” Harvey said, his voice almost trembling with barely controlled emotion. “I was telling him that if he went through with that, I’d leave. I like peace and quiet. Crowds aren’t for me. Kevin was my friend, and he wanted me to stay, but I had to let him know that I couldn’t if things changed that much. That’s it. I never would have hurt him.”

  Tears shone in Rita’s eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t, Harvey.”

  Ambrose surprised me by speaking up. “We’re all on edge after what happened to Kevin. It’s easy to let our suspicions run wild, but that won’t help matters. And none of this is fair to Rita.”

  Lily stared at her hands, folded in her lap.

  The storminess faded from Harvey’s eyes. He put a hand on Rita’s arm. “He’s right. I’m sorry, Rita.”

  “No, I’m the one who should apologize,” Lily said, raising her gaze, her expression contrite. “It was insensitive of me to bring up the subject. I’m sorry.”

  Rita patted the hand Harvey had rested on her arm. “It’s all right, both of you. It’s a trying time for all of us.” She attempted a smile. “I’ll go check on the food.”

  She returned to the kitchen and a few seconds of awkward silence ticked by before Harvey crammed his hat on his head and strode out of the room.

  I realized I hadn’t touched my food for several minutes. I exchanged a glance with Brett, and then got back to eating. I’d only taken one bite when Wilson spoke up.

  “Since we’re pointing fingers”—he stared hard at Lily—“you were up and about the night Kevin was killed.”

  Lily sputtered, her eyes wide, but she didn’t get any coherent words out before Wilson continued.

  “I heard the floorboards creak out in the hall. When I took a look, there you were, fully dressed, heading for the stairs. At ten past two in the morning.”

  “I couldn’t sleep!” Lily said. “Getting up and moving around for a while helps me when I’m having trouble sleeping.”

  “And where did you go while you were ‘moving around’?” Wilson asked.

  My stomach twisted when I saw that he was almost grinning. He was taking pleasure in making Lily squirm.

  Brett cut in before Lily could respond to the question. “Like Ambrose said, this sort of talk isn’t helping matters.”

  This time Wilson really did grin. He picked up his newspaper and gave the pages a shake to straighten them out. “Just thought it was worth mentioning.”

  He went back to reading, or at least pretended that he did. He’d clearly enjoyed stirring the pot and I sensed that he was waiting to see what would now rise to the surface.

  “I came downstairs and read a book for a while,” Lily said, still on the defensive. “Then I went right back to bed. I didn’t kill Kevin. Why would I?”

  Ambrose reached across the table and took her hand. “It’s all right, Lily. I know you didn’t kill him.”

  Lily relaxed. “Thank you, Ambrose.”

  Wilson turned the page of his newspaper. “Of course,” he said casually, his eyes still on the paper, “they do say it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for.” He sent a brief glance and a smirk at Ambrose before returning his attention to the newspaper once again.

  Lily’s back stiffened. “What a ridiculous insinuation! Ambrose wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

  “Ignore him,” Ambrose advised her. “He’s just trying to rile us up.”

  The kitchen door opened and Rita appeared, carrying two plates. Everyone fell quiet. I was glad the bickering hadn’t continued in Rita’s presence.

  Still smirking, Wilson got up and dropped the newspaper on the table before walking away. I suspected he enjoyed stirring up trouble for his own amusement, and I couldn’t help but dislike him for it.

  Rita s
et the plates before Ambrose and Lily. They both thanked her, and Lily smiled at her, even though her eyes still danced with indignation.

  I took one last bite of my food and pushed the plate aside, my appetite gone.

  “All done?” Brett asked. He’d polished off his french toast and bacon.

  I nodded, and we left the dining room without another word.

  As soon as we were out in the lobby, I let out a whoosh of air.

  “I could hardly breathe in there with all that tension,” I whispered.

  “It was a bit much.” Brett pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Hopefully we can be on our way soon.”

  He consulted the weather app on his phone and I leaned in close to get a look for myself. Never before had I been so desperate for warm temperatures.

  “I think we should be fine now,” he said. “The temperature is above freezing.”

  “Thank goodness,” I said, taking his hand and heading for the stairs. We took them two at a time. “Let’s go get our things.”

  Since we’d mostly packed the day before, we only had to add a few items to the suitcase. Within ten minutes, we were back down in the lobby, itching to get on our way. I wondered if we’d have to go in search of Rita, since there was no one at the reception desk, but I really didn’t want to bother her. Fortunately, Zahra appeared and handled the checkout process.

  Once that was settled, we loaded the suitcase into the truck and got on the road. The sun shone brightly and the ice had melted, leaving the roads damp but no longer treacherous. Out on the highway, we picked up speed, and I relaxed against my seat, relieved to leave Holly Lodge behind us.

  I looked forward to spending the coming night in our own bed, without any worries about being under the same roof as Kevin’s killer. I closed my eyes, relaxing even further.

  Something pinged against the side of the truck. My eyes shot open. I sat up straight as several other pings followed. Brett slowed the truck, but not before something small struck the windshield.

  Brett swore. “Someone must have had a load of gravel that wasn’t secured properly.”

  I looked out the side window. Sure enough, gravel was scattered over the road. We passed safely over the rest of it, thanks to Brett slowing the truck, and he picked up speed again once the road was clear.

  The damage was already done, though. There was a chip in the windshield, almost the size of a penny.

  “That’ll have to get fixed,” Brett said.

  I sank back against the seat again. “I hope we can get home without any more problems. We’ve already had enough.”

  “You can say that again.” Brett glanced my way. “Maybe next time we should just take a staycation.”

  I let out a long sigh, feeling more homesick than ever. “That sounds like a good idea to me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Brett and I spent the next day at home, hanging out with my mom and Grant, and showering Bentley and Flapjack with attention. The following morning, my mom and Grant set off for Seattle. I was sorry to see them go, but they’d be back for a visit in the new year. That wasn’t far away now. December had arrived, and Wildwood Cove’s Festival of Trees would begin in a few days. Preparing for the festival and for Christmas would keep me plenty busy for the next while. I figured time would probably fly by.

  “I think I’ll head over to the seniors’ center and get to work on our tree,” I said to Brett as we cleaned up the breakfast dishes after my mom and Grant had left.

  “I’ll come too,” he said. “I can lend a hand with the tree, and whatever else needs to be done.”

  As soon as we’d finished tidying up, I grabbed the box of ornaments I’d purchased specially for the festival tree while Brett loaded some tools into his truck.

  “What about the windshield?” I asked as I buckled up my seatbelt a few minutes later. We hadn’t had the ding in the glass fixed yet.

  Brett backed the truck out of its parking spot next to my car. “I called the garage yesterday. Zach is fully booked for the next couple of days and Lonny is off sick. I’ve got an appointment for Thursday. Lonny’s hoping to be back by then.”

  “That’s too bad that he’s sick,” I said. “We should have him and Hope over for dinner one night when he’s better.”

  In addition to being a mechanic, Lonny Barron owned the Wildwood Inn with his wife, Hope. I’d first met the couple back in the spring, and since then Brett and I had hung out with them a couple of times.

  “They’re having that holiday open house just before Christmas,” Brett reminded me.

  “Oh, right.” I had been looking forward to the open house at the inn, but recent events had pushed it to the back of my mind. “They might be too busy for anything else over the next few weeks then. There’s always the new year, though.”

  “We’ll work something out.”

  The drive to the seniors’ center took only a few minutes. Brett found a parking spot just down the street from our destination, and we both climbed out. I shivered as I grabbed my box of ornaments. The temperature was hovering around the freezing mark. There was no snow down here on the coast, but the grass was white with frost, and the breeze carried a sharp chill with it.

  I hurried into the seniors’ center, with Brett right behind me carrying his toolbox. As we stepped into the building’s anteroom, I smiled. The small space had already been decorated for the holidays. A Christmas tree stood in one corner, with letters hanging from garlands spelling out “Welcome to the Festival of Trees.” It was also decked out with silver and blue baubles. In another corner was a beautiful wicker reindeer. Paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and fairy lights had been strung around the double doors leading into the next room.

  Those doors stood open and Patricia Murray appeared in the doorway. She smiled when she saw me and Brett.

  “Hey, you two. Good to see you! Ready to get to work on your tree?”

  “Definitely,” I said.

  “And anything else you need a hand with,” Brett added, holding up his toolbox.

  “Fantastic. Brett, I’ll take you up on that. We’ve still got several decorations to hang, and we’ve got a big wooden sleigh to put together.”

  “Just point me in the right direction,” Brett said.

  “Head for the back of the room. You’ll see John there with the sleigh,” Patricia said, referring to her husband. “Or at least what will be the sleigh.”

  She grabbed a placard from several leaning against the wall of the anteroom. The sign had “The Flip Side Pancake House” written across it in black letters. She handed it to me. “Here you go, Marley. You can claim a tree from the ones that don’t already have a sign.”

  “Patricia!” a woman’s voice called from somewhere in the next room.

  “I’ll check in with you guys in a bit,” Patricia said before dashing out of sight.

  “Thank you!” I called after her.

  Brett took my box of ornaments, leaving me with just the sign to hold. “Let’s find you a tree.”

  When we stepped into the next room, I stopped to take in the sight before me. Clearly, there was much left to be done, as several trees remained undecorated and boxes of garlands, baubles, and other decorations sat here and there on the floor. Despite that, simply walking into the room infused me with holiday spirit. There had to be at least a dozen trees within my line of sight and they filled the room with their delicious scent.

  I breathed in deeply. “It smells like Christmas.”

  “It does,” Brett agreed.

  The room typically served as a small gym and meeting space, but now it was on its way to becoming a magical indoor forest. From the way the trees were set up, it looked as though there would be two curving pathways, one on either side of the long room, and a straight one down the middle. Each one was lined with trees. The straight path led to an open door at the far end o
f the room. I couldn’t see much beyond the door from where we stood, but I thought I saw at least one other tree set up behind a man and woman who were consulting a clipboard.

  “Which way?” Brett asked.

  “Maybe left.” I set off along that path.

  The first several trees we passed already had placards propped up next to them, displaying the name of the business sponsoring the tree. Several of them were already adorned with at least some decorations. A few looked complete, ready for the festival’s opening. Seeing those trees made me even more eager to get to work on mine. I hoped that focusing on something fun and holiday-related would help to chase away the somber cloud that had followed me and Brett home from Holly Lodge.

  I continued along the path until I reached its last bend, where it curved to meet up with the straight path at the end of the room. A Douglas fir caught my eye. It stood at least six feet tall and had beautiful, full branches. I was glad to see that it hadn’t yet been claimed.

  “This one,” I said, stopping before it.

  “Good choice.” Brett set my box of decorations down next to the tree. “Do you want me to help you get started?”

  “That’s okay, thanks. You go ahead and help John with the sleigh.”

  Brett kissed me. “Just holler if you need me.”

  As he disappeared from sight, I stood back to get a good look at my tree. It really was beautiful. I decided to start by wrapping a garland around it. I’d brought a blue and silver one that I thought would look great. Normally I liked to put lights on Christmas trees, but Patricia had told me days ago that there would be twinkle lights decorating the room, but not the individual trees. The organizing committee wanted to avoid the nightmare of dozens of electrical cords snaking across the floor. Judging by the trees that had already been decorated, they’d all look amazing even without lights.

  I pulled the garland out of the box and held it piled in my arms. Maybe I should have taken Brett up on his offer of help. The tree stood several inches taller than I did, so reaching the top branches would be a bit of a stretch. I decided to try my best on my own and see how it went. If I needed help, I’d go fetch Brett for a few minutes.