Scone Cold Dead Read online

  “Not a problem.”

  “So why are you gritting your teeth?”

  “Great place, man!” Jock O’Brien slapped Dan on the back, catching him by surprise. “Are the bedrooms ritzy, too?”

  “They’ll be comfortable.”

  Charlie Danielstone was right behind his roommate. “When does the place open?”

  “Fourth of July weekend.”

  “Hey, that’s not so far off. You must be almost done fixing the place up, huh? Can we take a look around?”

  “There’s a lot of construction still going on—”

  “Hey, we signed the release.” Charlie gave him a cheeky grin.

  “Cut it out, guys.” Liss introduced them, since Dan had only glimpsed them at the refreshment table at the reception and hadn’t had occasion to meet them at the motel.

  “So, daily rehearsals as long as we’re here?” Jock asked.

  “That’s the deal,” Liss told him, “as long as you behave yourselves.”

  “Aw, come on. Just a peek at one of the rooms?”

  “Not much to see,” Dan told him. “They’re all empty. Walls and floors and windows are done. Plumbing’s in. But there’s no furniture. No curtains yet, either.”

  “What parts of the hotel are you still working on?” Charlie asked.

  “Ballroom. Hallways—they need to be carpeted. Kitchen. Laundry room.”

  “Will you be finished in time?” Liss hadn’t thought to ask till now. She’d been too busy with the Emporium to focus on the hotel, and it wasn’t Dan’s primary project, either. He was far more likely to talk about his plans to one day make a living from the sale of his custom-made furniture.

  A blast of music, turned up way too loud, made Liss jump.

  “Nice form!” Cal hollered from the other side of the room.

  Ray turned down the sound. “Ready when you are,” he called to the dancers.

  “Fiona’s not here yet,” Stewart yelled back. “We’re short a dancer for the reel.”

  Jock and Charlie exchanged mischievous glances. Charlie grabbed Liss’s hand. “No, we’re not!” he shouted, and tugged her toward the middle of the room.

  Before Liss fully realized what was happening, her feet had fallen into the familiar steps of a Scottish country dance. The music was “Speed the Plough,” a reel that dated back to 1800. When Charlie handed her off to Cal, it felt just like old times.

  “Look at her strut her stuff,” Sandy teased as they passed each other in the pattern of the dance.

  She laughed in sheer delight. And she made it all the way to the end of the piece before, just as the music stopped, her weak knee decided to buckle. If Cal hadn’t been standing right beside her, she’d have fallen flat on her face.

  “And that’s why I’m retired,” she muttered, more as a reminder to herself than to inform the others.

  “Sorry, Liss.” Charlie’s crooked grin didn’t look particularly contrite, but then he’d never had knee surgery.

  “You okay?” Sandy started in her direction but she waved him off.

  “I don’t think I’ve done any serious damage.” But she would not be so foolish as to try to dance with the pros again. When rehearsal resumed, Liss joined Dan near the door.

  He watched her approach with worried eyes. “You’re limping.”

  “No kidding. Come on. No need for either of us to be here.”

  He sent a doubtful look in Stewart’s direction.

  “You’ll just have to trust them not to damage anything.” Liss led him out of the dining room just as the music blared again, though not as loudly as before. After the first few steps, her stride returned to normal. “I’ve got to get back to the Emporium. I left Lee Annie in charge, since she doesn’t have to rehearse with the dancers, but I don’t want to take advantage of her good nature. You can go and do whatever you would be doing if they weren’t here.”

  “I’d be at the other construction site, but Dad was right. We can’t leave the asylum in the inmates’ control. I’ll be in the building until they all leave for the day. Every day.” He sounded grimly determined.

  They had reached the lobby, the first part of the hotel’s interior to be renovated. Liss knew that Dan had restored the huge check-in desk himself, as well as the wall full of old-fashioned cubbyholes behind it. When The Spruces reopened, they would once again hold guests’ keys and messages.

  The remaining space was equally impressive. Pillars divided the lobby and would give the illusion of privacy when sofas and chairs were strategically placed between them. Liss had heard her aunt and Joe Ruskin talk of their plans so many times that she had no difficulty visualizing what the place would look like furnished. There would be plush area rugs atop the gleaming hardwood floors in the seating areas. Ornate brass firedogs would grace the hearth of the big Victorian fireplace with its intricately carved mantel and the even more elaborately decorated mirror above.

  It was a labor of love. Liss got that. She understood why Dan and his father were nervous about turning over even a small portion of it to an unruly group like the Strathspey dancers. She wanted to reassure him, tell him they were housebroken, but she was pretty sure he wouldn’t breathe easily again until they’d left the building.

  “Try not to fret,” she said instead.

  Dan didn’t appear to hear her. He was staring out the window. “Your friend the cop just parked next to the bus.”

  “Sherri?” Liss glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even close to three. Sherri should still be at work.

  “No, not Sherri. Detective Tandy.”

  “Oh dear. I suppose he tracked the troupe here.”

  But when Gordon Tandy came through the door he seemed surprised to find Liss in the lobby, and puzzled by the fact that the bus was parked outside. Liss quickly explained that the dancers were rehearsing.

  “Did you want to talk to someone in particular?” she asked.

  “Yes, but not one of them.” He jerked his head toward Dan. “I need to speak with Ruskin here.”

  When he didn’t say any more, Liss remembered what Sherri had told them the previous night. It dawned on her that Gordon Tandy was still checking up on her. He wanted to ask Dan about her movements on the day of the murder!

  “I’ve got to get back to the store,” she said stiffly, and left.

  Downtown Moosetookalook was a five-minute drive from The Spruces. Fiona’s rental car was still parked in front of the Emporium. Liss couldn’t imagine what the holdup was. Fiona was extremely punctual as a rule, especially when it came to rehearsals.

  Inside, Liss found Lee Annie Neville happily trying on necklaces and earrings from the shipment that had just come in from Pitlochry, Scotland. They were made using the stems of Scottish heather compressed into blocks and cut into individual pieces. Set with silver and pewter fittings in Celtic designs, the “gems” were surprisingly attractive.

  “Back in a minute,” she called, tossing her coat in the general direction of the rack beside the door. She took the stairs to her aunt’s apartment two at a time.

  “Fiona?” She rapped on the door of Aunt Margaret’s room and opened it without waiting to be invited in.

  Fiona stood by the window, a cell phone to her ear. She held up a finger to indicate Liss should wait a minute and completed her conversation. “Problem?” she asked, sliding the phone into a pocket.

  “Only that you’re running very late.”

  “I’ve got one more call to make, and then I’ll head out to the hotel. With Victor gone, I’m the one who has to handle all the arrangements.”

  “Of course. I’ll leave you to it.” Liss retreated but stood outside the door a moment longer. Did Fiona mean she was canceling more performances? Liss hoped not.

  It was quiet in the apartment, so quiet that she could hear Fiona speaking on the phone. Liss didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but when she caught the word “passport” she lingered in the hallway.

  Most of the conversation was muffled. She heard a reference to Ca
nada and wondered if Fiona might be trying to get international bookings. There were certainly plenty of people of Scottish descent in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, and neither province was far from Moosetookalook. Along with Quebec, New Brunswick shared a border with Maine.

  Fiona’s “Thank you. Good-bye” sent Liss scurrying away. She entered the living room just as Winona came in from the kitchen carrying a cup of tea.

  “Liss—join me?” She settled in on the sofa, looking right at home.

  Her long black hair, liberally streaked with white, had been braided and then wound in a knot at the back of her head. She wore leggings with a tunic top, both in a burnt umber shade. It was a favorite outfit, chosen for comfort and frequently worn on the road. All that was missing was its usual accessory—a wrist pincushion in the shape of a heart and bristling with straight pins, safety pins of every size, and needles prethreaded in a rainbow of colors.

  “I’m good, Winona. And I need to spell Lee Annie. Is there anything you need?”

  “Not a thing, sweetie. It’s splendid being here instead of in a motel. Even better than the B-and-B.”

  “Well, good.” One thing Liss had always liked about Winona was her ability to look on the bright side of things. It was a knack Fiona had shared until just lately, which made Liss wonder if Winona’s cheerful facade might also be wearing a bit thin. “Ah, Winona? Have you thought any more about what I asked you the other day? About members of the company who might have wished Victor ill?”

  Winona stared down into the steaming mug of tea between her hands, avoiding Liss’s eyes.

  “Winona? It doesn’t help to hold back. We have to find out who did this terrible thing so we can all move on.”

  “I just don’t like to speak ill of anyone, not even the dead.”

  “Victor wasn’t the nicest guy in the world.”

  “No. He wasn’t. And he was particularly nasty to poor Sarah Bartlett. I was sorry to see her go. I liked her.”

  “So did Ray, apparently.”

  Winona smiled. “Yes. Thick as thieves, they were at times, although she was closer, I think, to some of the other girls. I thought for a while he might leave the company, too, after she left. But the last time I saw them together it looked as if they’d disagreed about something. She turned her back on him and stalked off and that was that.”

  “The last time they were together?” Liss frowned, trying to recall what Dan had told her Ray had said. “Together” didn’t strike her as the right word. “Just when was that, Winona?”

  The older woman frowned, her snub nose wrinkling. “I’m not sure. Maybe two or three weeks after Emily replaced her. I can’t remember where we were. You know how the towns all run together when you’re on tour.”

  “But it was after she left the company?”

  “Oh yes. I know I had the uncharitable thought that Sarah was so much more pleasant than Emily Townsend. It would have been nice if she could have come back, but of course that was impossible even before she and Ray fell out. Because of Victor. Sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea, dear?”

  “Uh, no. I have to get to work.”

  Liss headed downstairs, but at no great speed. She was still trying to make sense out of what Winona had said in light of what Ray had told Dan. Hadn’t he claimed he’d not seen Sarah again after she left the company? Was Winona mistaken? Or had Ray lied?

  “That cop was here,” Lee Annie announced when Liss reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped through the door behind the sales counter.

  Big surprise. “What did he want?” She was pretty sure she could guess, and that guess depressed her.

  “He wanted to know who else worked here and who spelled you when you wanted to run an errand or something. He already knew about Sherri. Said he’d already talked to her. What’s he want, Liss? And why did he head over to the bookstore after he left here?”

  “Good question. Will you mind the Emporium for another half hour while I go find out?”

  “Depends. Can you give me a discount on this?” She waggled a finger on which she wore one of the heather-filled rings.

  “Sure. Take fifty percent off the price that’s marked.” The jewelry was pretty, but not horribly expensive, even though each “gem” had supposedly been individually shaped and lacquered by skilled craftsmen.

  Liss shrugged back into her coat and set off for Angie’s Books, the business owned and operated by Beth Hogencamp’s mother. Angie spotted Liss crossing the town square and had the door open for her before she reached the porch.

  “Funny,” she said, “you don’t look like a murderer.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re off the hook. I told the detective you couldn’t have left the Emporium that day without being missed. He already knew that, I think. It was just a formality to ask around.”

  Like Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium, Angie’s Books took up the ground floor of what had once been a one-family home. The Hogencamps lived in the apartment upstairs. Angie sold books of all sorts, new and used, and non-Scottish crafts made by local artisans, including Dan, on consignment. One of his clock-and-picture-frame combinations was prominently displayed. Liss noticed that Angie had replaced the stock photo of a baby with a picture of her own son, a preschooler named Bradley. Since Liss didn’t see or hear him tearing around the shop, she assumed he was down for an afternoon nap.

  “Sounded to me like he just wanted to make sure you had no chance to transport poisoned scones to Fallstown,” Angie said cheerfully. “I swear, I was a little nervous when he first introduced himself, after that business last year. But this one isn’t at all like the last state police detective assigned to our area.”

  “Thank goodness. It isn’t exactly comfortable being suspected of murder.”

  “Again.”

  “Again,” Liss agreed. “Did he ask about anything else? You and Beth were at the reception.”

  “Yes, but we’d left before that man died.” Her smile vanished. “I’m glad we did. Beth doesn’t need to be exposed to that sort of thing. Bad enough what she sees on television. But I could tell Detective Tandy that I saw you at the Student Center and that you were right there in plain sight the whole time Beth and I stayed.”

  “Did Beth enjoy the show? I never thought to ask.”

  “Oh, she loved it. And she enjoyed meeting some of the dancers afterward. Most of them were very nice to her.” A shadow passed over Angie’s face, a clear indication that someone at the reception had not been so nice.

  Liss let it go. There wasn’t anything she could do about it if Stewart or Emily or one of the others had been short with the girl. And she had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

  Why was Gordon Tandy asking so many questions about her? What had happened to his certainty that the mushroom scones had been baked in that cabin that had been broken into?

  She started to inquire into the specifics of Angie’s interrogation, but the other woman was staring past her out the display window at Fiona, who was getting into her rental car. Liss glanced back at Angie in time to see a flash of extreme dislike momentarily distort the bookseller’s amiable expression.

  “Fiona was the one who was rude?”

  “I didn’t hear what she said myself, but I saw Beth approach her—like a fan with a rock star—and I saw my daughter’s disillusionment when she was snubbed. Fiona Carlson looked down her nose at Beth and told her to get lost. That’s what Beth told me later. She said ‘Get lost, kid,’ in what Beth called ‘a really mean voice.’ ”

  “That doesn’t sound like Fiona. We tease her about being the mother hen of the company. She’s the one who takes all the younger dancers under her wing.”

  “That’s not the same thing as being good with real children.”

  “True. I hope Beth didn’t let the incident spoil her evening.”

  “Oh no. She’s still talking about the performance, and about her new friend, Zara.”

  Liss winced. “I’m afraid I’m as b
ad as Fiona. I completely forgot Beth was coming over for a lesson the other evening.”

  “You’ve had a lot on your mind lately.” Angie dismissed her oversight with a little wave of one hand. “Beth understands that.” Unspoken was the corollary that neither Angie nor Beth understood Fiona’s rudeness. Liss didn’t, either, but she was willing to give her old friend the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was less than polite sometimes.

  “Speaking of your troubles . . .” Angie gestured toward the window.

  Liss was afraid to look, and it turned out she had good reason to be wary. Gordon Tandy had just parked in front of the Emporium, in the spot Fiona had vacated. He emerged from his car and, almost as if he could feel her staring at him, turned to look straight at Angie’s Books.

  Chapter Twelve

  They met halfway across the town square.

  “Walk with me?” Gordon asked.

  “Sure. Why not? If you’re sure I’m not going to poison, stab, bludgeon, or otherwise do away with you.”

  The official stone face hardened further. “I had to rule you out completely. I’ve done that now.” The words were clipped and emotionless.

  “I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel. I thought you trusted me already. In case you’ve forgotten, you asked for my help.”

  The town square was crisscrossed with walking paths kept well shoveled by maintenance crews based at the municipal building that overlooked one side of it. Their route took them past a monument to the Civil War dead, a flagpole, and a playground with swings, a jungle gym, a merry-go-round, and a slide, eventually ending at a gazebo-style bandstand. Gordon offered her a hand to help navigate the steps and indicated one of the benches. Liss sat.

  Gordon Tandy propped one hip against a section of railing and folded his arms across his chest. “When were you planning to let me know that you’d played musical motel rooms with my suspects?”

  “No law against providing housing for folks who need it.”

  “You know what this looks like, don’t you? It looks suspiciously like someone’s trying to gather all her suspects together in one place. Do you fancy yourself as a modern day Miss Marple?”