A Fatal Booking, page 3
Lora sighed. “I don’t know if I would go so far as to label them enemies, but Stacy has ticked off several people in the group. Everyone, really, except me and Arnie.” She looked up at me from under her black lashes. “Anyway, if there is any unpleasantness, I don’t want you to think it has anything to do with you or the Chapters staff.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, making a mental note to observe the guests carefully. If I could discern any reasons for the rifts between Stacy and the others, I might be able to stave off future problems.
“Snuck away, I see.” Arnie’s voice sailed up from behind us. As we turned, I caught the sharp glance he leveled at Lora. “Sharing some of our group’s dirty laundry before Charlotte gets slapped in the face with it?”
Lora tossed her head. “Just finalizing the schedule for the week. We switched the Andersen book discussion from Tuesday to Monday, you know.”
“Right.” Arnie didn’t appear to be fooled by this distraction.
He’s obviously aware of all the tensions in the group, I thought, fixing my gaze on his pleasant face. Probably knows all the details, too.
Lora looked from Arnie to me. “I should get back to the others.” She tapped my arm with her scarlet-polished fingernails. “Thanks for everything, Charlotte. Talk to you later.”
After Lora left the garden, Arnie strolled over to the fence that separated Chapters’ garden from the neighbor’s. “Nice roses. I bet they’ve been here for a while, as thick as these vines are.”
“Don’t you remember them from when you visited here before?” I asked, curious to hear his response. It intrigued me that he’d met my great-aunt when she was young. Before I ever knew her, I thought. Before I was even born.
Arnie fiddled with the collar of his white polo shirt. “I didn’t actually wander out into the garden during those visits. It was late fall or winter the few times I was here.”
“I hope you don’t think I’m being intrusive, but I’d love to talk to you about Isabella at some point. Your impressions of her, I mean.” I offered him a smile. “Since my grandmother was her sister, she did visit with our family quite often throughout my life. But she was older then, and had pretty much given up her busy social life to run the B and B. I’ve always been curious to know more about what she was like in her prime, when she was throwing all those glamorous parties I keep hearing about.”
Arnie, his attention apparently caught by some movement in the adjoining backyard, didn’t look at me as he responded. “I’d be delighted to do that. As I said, I was quite enamored of your great-aunt. Now”—he motioned toward the neighboring house—“excuse me for changing the subject, but who lives next door?”
I followed his gaze, noticing that my seventy-seven-year-old neighbor had opened her back door to call her Yorkshire terrier, Shandy, back into the house. Her tall, sturdy figure, clad in one of her characteristically bright ensembles, was outlined by the early evening light, which also created a nimbus around her short white hair. Her distinctive profile was handsome rather than pretty, but all the more striking for it. “Oh, that’s Ellen Montgomery. You might want to chat with her too, since she was one of Isabella’s closest friends.” And her handler when Isabella was in the spy game, I thought, but of course I didn’t express that out loud.
“Who could imagine such a thing?” Arnie said, making me wonder if he’d somehow read my mind.
But when I stared at him, I noticed the faraway look in his eyes and realized he was talking to himself. “I’m sorry?”
Arnie shook his head before turning to me with a smile. “Never mind, my dear. Just the ramblings of an old man.” He patted my arm. “Your neighbor reminded me of someone I knew many years ago, that’s all. A friend,” he added, as Shandy and Ellen disappeared back into her house. “She was an Ellen too. But her last name wasn’t Montgomery. Unless, of course, your neighbor is, or has been, married?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” I said, realizing I didn’t know much about that aspect of Ellen’s life. She’d never mentioned a husband, but then, she’d never discussed any man in any context other than friendship.
“Well, plenty of time to ask.” Arnie flashed me another disarming smile. “I’m sure we’ll see your neighbor again.”
“You will. She’s likely to drop by Chapters for the discussion of Lora’s work on the Andersen book, since Lora invited our local book club to join that event.”
“How delightful. I always enjoy meeting other book lovers,” Arnie said, his tone as bright as his eyes. “Shall we rejoin the others? Or rather, why don’t I go back and mingle with my fellow guests.” He gestured toward the garden gate. “I’ll even venture to distract them so you can slip into the house and enjoy a few minutes of peace.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” I said with a smile. “Sometimes one needs a few moments of solitude to recharge.”
Arnie gave me a wink. “A greater truth was never spoken.”
Chapter Three
The next morning I woke early so I could take a walk before I needed to help Alicia prepare breakfast for our guests.
Strolling just a few blocks brought me to the waterfront, where I could reach the boardwalk that separated the docks from a row of shops and restaurants. I paused in front of Julie Rivera’s bookstore, Bookwaves. Of course, it was closed at this hour, but I took a moment to admire the Memorial Day display Julie had placed in the picture window that fronted the shop. American flags and bunting surrounded a wide selection of books about world history, the military, and similar topics.
Crossing the boardwalk, I stared out over the water. The dock slips were filled with boats of all shapes and sizes, from small motor craft to tall-masted sailboats and impressive yachts. I rested my arms on the top rail and allowed my thoughts to wander. The previous summer, I’d met a man who lived on his vintage cabin cruiser. Gavin, where are you now? I wondered, knowing it could be anywhere. Like my neighbor Ellen, Gavin Howard worked as an agent for a U.S. intelligence agency, although he was still active whereas she was now retired.
Gavin and I had stayed in touch since his departure from Beaufort, frequently texting as well as video chatting and talking over the phone. But since he was involved in some top-secret operations, there were times when he had to go dark. He’d given me a code word to alert me to that. When he dropped the word shellfish into one of our conversations, I knew I might not hear from him for a while—and definitely should not contact him. We were in the middle of one of those incommunicado periods, which always put me slightly on edge. I was aware he could be embroiled in a dangerous operation, but since I had no knowledge of where he was or what he was doing, there was nothing I could do but wait to hear from him again.
“Charlotte,” said a familiar voice behind me. “Good morning on this fine day.”
I turned to face Ellen. “Hi. Out walking the pup, I see. Hello, Shandy.” I bent down to pat the Yorkie’s head as he strained at his leash. “I’m afraid I don’t have any treats for you this morning.”
Shandy’s black eyes shone bright as polished buttons under a thick fall of fur “That’s okay. He’s getting a little too chunky anyway.” Ellen gave Shandy’s harness a little tug, and he stared up at her in reproach. “I noticed your latest guests arrived yesterday evening. I’m glad you were able to fill in with this group after that sudden cancellation.”
“It was great I had that option, although I don’t expect this to be the easiest week.” I straightened and stared back out over the harbor. “They have very definite ideas about all their special events and activities.” I shot Ellen a rueful smile. “Today’s the Mad Hatter tea party. Complete with costumes, if you can believe that.”
“How … immersive,” Ellen said, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “I hope you didn’t have to supply those.”
“Fortunately not, especially considering my sewing skills. The guests have created their own. We didn’t actually have to come up with the decorations either. Lora Kane, who’s in charge of the group, brought them with her. Alicia and Damian and I just have to help her pull everything together later.”
“That’s good.” Ellen glanced over at the boats. “Heard from our friend lately?”
I shook my head. “It’s one of those times when we can’t communicate. You know how it is.”
Shandy erupted in furious barking as a flock of seagulls dive-bombed the boardwalk.
Ellen leaned down to pick up the dog. Holding him close to her chest, she cast me a sympathetic smile. “I see. Well, I’m sure he’ll get in touch when he can.”
“He always does.” I tapped the rough surface of the railing with my fingernails. “Changing the subject, I observed something interesting yesterday evening. When you appeared outside, waiting for Shandy to come in, one of the guests, an older man named Arnold Dean, went on high alert. Like he knew you or something. Is that possible?”
Ellen dipped her head until the wide brim of her sun hat blocked my view of her eyes. “Perhaps,” she said, as she gently lowered Shandy back to the ground. “Does he go by Arnie?”
“He does, and he’s medium height but stocky, with white hair and a closely trimmed beard. He has eyes about the color of this water.” I motioned toward the harbor. “A greenish gray that’s changeable. Ruddy complexion, with full cheeks. Honestly, he looks like a trim Santa. Out of costume, of course.”
Ellen straightened slowly. “Arnie Dean,” she said, her voice as wispy as the clouds drifting overhead. “Now there’s a coincidence.”
“He told me he attended a few parties at Chapters when Isabella was alive. Is that how you two met?”
Ellen shot me a sharp glance. “No, I was never here when Isabella was throwing her famous parties. As I told you when we first met, I didn’t move to Beaufort until the early eighties, after Chapters was already converted into the B and B. Isabella wasn’t playing her high-society hostess role at that point.”
“Oh, right, I remember.” Frowning, I stepped back from the railing and turned to look directly at Ellen. “So how do you know Mr. Dean? He seemed extremely interested in you. To the point where it made me a little nervous.”
Ellen, her eyes hooded beneath her pale lashes, absently coiled Shandy’s leash around her hand. “I’m surprised he recognized me. It was a long time ago.” Shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts, she met my gaze with a wan smile. “Nothing to worry about. Arnie and I met in college. He was a few years younger than me, but we were in the same Russian language classes.”
“Russian? No wonder you were recruited into intelligence work.”
“That really wasn’t on my mind at the time. I just enjoyed learning languages, and Russian seemed like an interesting challenge. Anyway, Arnie and I bonded over our mutual love of exploring other cultures. We both hoped to travel the world one day. Which I did, of course. Not sure about Arnie.”
“You were good friends?”
“We were very close, at least at that time. We spent hours watching foreign films and even joined a campus cultural exchange group. Not to mention dining at every ethnic restaurant in our little college town.”
Ellen’s expression was uncharacteristically dreamy, as if she was recalling beloved memories. I sucked in a quick breath, wondering if she and Arnie had been romantically involved. It seemed likely, given her comments about how close they’d been. I opened my mouth to ask if Arnie was an old boyfriend but pressed my lips together when another thought crossed my mind. Obviously it didn’t last.
Ellen, as if sensing my interest, shot me a wry glance. “He’s not a former lover, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She pushed her straw hat away from her forehead. “To be honest, that was the problem. He wanted that. I didn’t.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I said, feeling heat rise up the back of my neck. Although Ellen and I were friends, I’d never discussed such a personal topic with her before.
“It’s all right. I used to be embarrassed to talk about such things. I’m not anymore.” She loosened her grip as Shandy, distracted by a splash from the water, yipped and danced on the end of his leash. “You see, I discovered something about myself many years ago, although I’ve only recently put a name to it.” She shrugged. “To be fair, there’s only recently been an accepted name for it.”
I studied her for a moment, putting the clues together. Her current statements, and the lack of any mention of certain things in the past … “You’ve never been romantically interested in anyone?”
Ellen’s lips quirked. “Exactly. Honestly, it was a plus rather than a minus in my former career. I couldn’t be swayed by things that often compromised other agents.”
“I can see how that might be useful,” I said in a thoughtful tone.
Ellen shrugged. “But it wasn’t so easy when I was young, For years I thought there was something wrong with me; that I was defective in some way. Or, as Arnie told me before he disappeared from my life, that I was cold and unfeeling.” She grimaced. “Frigid was the exact word, as I recall.”
I bit back a swear word. “No wonder you went your separate ways.”
“It was for the best, although it was still painful. He was my closest friend at the time. I felt we could share anything. But then it all blew up into this horrible fight where he stormed out of my apartment.” Ellen’s chest rose and fell with her deep sigh. “I never saw him again after that night.”
“And now he’s staying next door to your house.” I frowned. “Do you want me to try to keep him away from you? I mean, I can be diplomatic, but firm.”
“That isn’t necessary.” Ellen tugged her hat down on her brow and gazed toward the water. “We’re both so much older now and have lived full lives. All the pain has dissipated, at least for me. Perhaps we can even be friends again.”
“That would be nice.” Studying her profile, I realized I couldn’t read anything in her calm demeanor. “Anyway, not to rush off, but I probably should get back. I need to give Alicia a hand with breakfast and then help with the tea party preparations.”
“We’ll walk with you.” Ellen gave Shandy’s leash a little tug. “Come along, you rascal.”
With Shandy trotting in front of us, we made our way back to our homes. Sensing that Ellen didn’t want to discuss anything more from her past, I didn’t ask any questions, happy to keep the conversation centered on innocuous subjects like gardening,
* * *
“Thought all that effort would be appreciated, but seems we still have complaints,” Alicia said as she entered the kitchen from the back porch. “That woman in the strange rabbit getup—the gray one, I mean, not the white—was demanding jam for the scones.” She plunked an empty pewter tray on the counter near the sink. “Wasn’t told to include any jam or jelly.”
“That’s Stacy Wilkin, who seems to complain about everything, so I wouldn’t worry. At any rate, there’s no jam because Lora Kane didn’t want any provided.” I placed a ceramic teapot on a silver-plated tray. “It’s all part of the Lewis Carroll theme.”
Alicia shot me a questioning look. “What’s jam got to do with anything?”
“In Alice Through the Looking Glass, the White Queen tells Alice, ‘The rule is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday—but never jam to-day.’” I used both hands to lift the tray, balancing it so the teapot didn’t slosh. “It’s actually not in the scene they’re reenacting, but I guess it’s still an inside joke.”
Alicia rolled her eyes. “Not a very funny one. Anyway, if you could tell that rabbit woman we had nothing to do with the lack of jam, I’d appreciate it.”
She’s actually the March Hare, I thought, but decided against mentioning that detail. “Grab the doors for me, and I’ll carry this out to the party.”
“Better you than me.” Alicia eyed my grip on the tray as she met me at the door to the back porch. “We should’ve asked Damian to stay. He could’ve helped with the service along with the prep.”
“I can manage. Better than paying Damian’s fee for an extra hour or two,” I replied, before offering her a smile. “Thanks for the assist.”
Holding open the outside door, Alicia wrinkled her nose at me. “It’s clear you’re related to Isabella. Same sort of stubborn.”
I flashed another smile and carefully maneuvered my way down the steps to reach the ground. I think I may have inherited a few other traits as well, I mused as I crossed the driveway. A certain craving for excitement and danger. Which I never knew I possessed until I moved to Chapters.
Approaching the setup on the patio, I had to admire Lora’s dedication to detail. She’d asked me to provide a folding banquet table that could seat at least ten and had covered it with a white linen tablecloth—decoratively rumpled to represent the messiness of the tea party described in Alice in Wonderland. Then she’d instructed Alicia, Damian, and me to pile extra plates, cutlery, and cups at one end of table, while the other end held place settings for the six guests. Although our additional tableware was clean, it was meant to evoke Carroll’s tea party scene, where the Mad Hatter, March Hare, and Dormouse simply shifted from seat to seat to use new plates, cups, and utensils rather than washing the dirty dishes.
“More tea,” I called out as I approached the table. I eyed the group, impressed with the effort they’d put into their costumes. Lora, wearing a white tuxedo, had attached a large pocket watch on a gold chain to her multicolor brocade vest. She also sported a pair of white rabbit ears attached to a black plastic headband.
The ears wobbled as she leapt to her feet. “Here, let me help with that,” she said, taking the tray from my hands. Setting it on one of the few clear spaces on the table, she turned to Zach Bell, who was dressed as the Mad Hatter. “Would you pass the teapot around, please?”
Zach tugged on his oversized polka-dot bow tie. True to the popular Tenniel illustrations, he’d also donned a white shirt whose large starched collar framed his face, and a tight waistcoat. And the giant top hat, of course, I thought, my lips curving in amusement. He wouldn’t be the Mad Hatter without a hat.
