Moonlighting in Vermont (4 page)

* * * * *

I’d been sitting at my desk at the paper for a couple of hours when the phone rang.
“MacGowan.” It was Jim on the phone. “I’m downstairs in the diner. How about coming down for a coffee?”
Our local cafe is small. Three booths are crammed against one wall, and four tables crowd the blue and white tile floor. Opposite the booths is a counter normally packed with locals. Most of the time, it’s so tight in there you have to reach over someone’s head to pay the bill.
I joined Jim in one of the booths against the wall. Jim studied the menu like he’d never seen it before. He could be quiet sometimes but not usually when we were out together. I felt a big, fat ball of unease building in my stomach. There was too much weird stuff going on these days. I touched Jim’s hand.
“You’re powerful quiet.” I used my best Vermont drawl.
He smiled at me. “I like it when you talk like an old Vermonter.”
“I am an old Vermonter. My grandparents were born here.”
“Yeah, but usually you talk like an educated American, not an old timey Vermonter. I like it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, especially as now you’ve come out of your quiet spell. Is there something going on?”
“Just work stuff. Nothing to worry about. At least I don’t think it’s anything to worry about. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
“We’ll have to wait and see, or you’ll have to wait and see?”
“I can’t tell you about it, so I guess technically it’s I’ll have to wait and see.”
I stuck my tongue out at Jim. I don’t know what it is about his job that drops my maturity level down about five notches. I guess I’m just a Nosey Nora. I don’t like being the one that isn’t in on the secret. I was worried the secret might be about me.
“I hate that we can’t talk about your job. It makes me feel like I don’t really know you.”
“You know me as well as anybody. You can’t ask for more than that.”
“Well, yeah, I can ask for more. But that doesn’t mean I’ll get it, does it?”
Sandy interrupted us with a pot of coffee. I ordered my usual muffin. Jim finally settled on a bagel with cream cheese.
“So,” Jim said. “Have you recovered from your little adventure the other day?”
“As long as I don’t think about it. It’s not an experience I’d like to repeat.”
“Not thinking of taking up a life of crime? Or is that a life of crime busting?”
“Neither. I’m not taking up anything that offers up the opportunity for viewing bodies. Or blood.”
“Then I guess you’re going to have to give up your job at the Inn. Because so far that’s the only place you’ve seen a dead body.”
“I wish I could give up that job. In order to do that, I’d have to get rid of most of my animals. I just keep getting more and more. They seem to be collecting me.”
“You could just stop bringing them home.”
“I can’t just leave them in the street. And after I pick them up, they adopt me. I tried to find Ranger a home. But no one else is nutty enough to take on a goofy, giant puppy that thinks he’s the size of a Corgi. So he ends up with me. Next thing I know, I’ll be overrun with hamsters. Or guinea pigs. Or pot bellied pigs.”
“Those, at least, you could eat.”
“As if. I can’t even eat chickens that aren’t laying eggs.”
“You have a serious problem. You can’t get rid of your animals, you can’t eat your animals, and you can’t quit working at a dead-end job because of your animals. You’d never make it as a lawyer. There’s not an ounce of logic in that brain.”
“If I was a lawyer, I wouldn’t be lacking in money, which would solve the animal problem. But I’d probably shoot myself in the head out of boredom, which would leave my animals homeless, and then you’d have to take care of them.”
“I’d have no problem eating those birds. Every time I had chicken for dinner, I’d think of you and how if you only had fewer animals, you’d still be alive.”
“Jeez. You’re such a prince.” I reached across the table for the sugar and knocked over my cup. The coffee ran across the table toward Jim. I grabbed a handful of napkins and tried to stop the hot liquid from running off the table into his lap. As I reached for a second handful of napkins, my hand hit Jim’s coffee cup, sending it flying off the table right into his lap.
“Shit!” Jim jumped out of his seat, a gigantic coffee stain spreading across his lap. “MacGowan, you’re a disaster.”
The waitress ran over with a damp cloth and made as if to mop Jim’s lap. Jim took the rag from her and blotted his pants. I felt horrible about the hot coffee, but there was a bubble of laughter rising in my throat. I forced the urge down again but the effort must have shown on my face.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jim asked. “Did you get coffee on you?”
“No.” A smile spread across my face despite my efforts to stop it. “I’m fine.” A snort of laughter forced its way out of me.
“Are you laughing at me? This isn’t exactly funny, you know. My legs are burned. To say nothing of other, more sensitive, parts.”
“I know it’s not funny.” My eyes started to water with the effort. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m laughing.” Another snort of laughter burst out of me. I got up and ran for the ladies room. I got through the door and leaned against the wall, my shoulders shaking with mirth. I stood laughing for a few minutes before I could pull myself together.
Jim was pulling his overcoat on when I made it back to the table. “You’re hilarious. I could hear you laughing from here.” He didn’t sound happy. “I’m going home to change. Then I have to take this suit to the cleaners and make an afternoon meeting. This has got to be the tenth time you’ve spilled something on me. Remind me not to ask you for coffee again.”
“Last time it was Coke. At least that didn’t burn you. And I paid to have your suit cleaned.”
Jim rolled his eyes at me. “You’re an accident waiting to happen.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll pay for your suit to be cleaned again. I didn’t mean to laugh. I just couldn’t help it.”
He shook his head at me as he stiff-legged it out the door. I paid the bill and apologized to the waitress for making a mess. Then I made my way out the door. I was going to try and put a dent in the pile of work sitting on my desk.
I tripped on the way up the stairs and hit my knee. “Damn!” I sat on a step and rubbed my stinging knee. Tears welled up in my eyes, and a sob rose in my throat.
Pull yourself together,
I said to myself.
First you’re laughing at things that aren’t funny and now you’re crying over nothing.
But I couldn’t stop. I sat there sobbing until tears ran off my chin.
I was afraid that someone might come through the lower door and see me crying, but didn’t want to go in the office either. Meg could have dropped in, and she’d want to know what was wrong. I couldn’t tell her, because I didn’t know myself. I gulped in air and wiped my face on the sleeve of my coat.
I got up and limped up the stairs into the office. It was empty, thank God. I slipped into the bathroom and blew my nose. Then I splashed water on my face and blotted it off with a paper towel. I rummaged around in my purse and pulled out some mascara. I blinked it through my lashes and took a look at myself in the mirror.
I went out and sat down at my desk. I rubbed my knee while my computer came back to life. I’d probably be limping for a couple of days. I shook my head. If I didn’t pull myself together they’d be carting me off to the funny farm.
At the end of the workday, I dialed Jim’s number and was a little surprised when he actually answered.
“Hey. Just callin’ to see how you’re doing. Did you recover from having coffee with me?
“The trouble with you, MacGowan, is that you never know when to leave something alone.” He disconnected.
I couldn’t even pretend to myself that he was kidding. Three

I shut down the office, pointed the Kawasaki towards the Inn, and headed to my night job. I wasn’t really looking forward to going back, but I needed to fix my car before the snow flew, and I couldn’t pass up a night’s pay. The evening air was cold against my face, and the sharp scent of winter was in the air.

The direct route to Whispering Birches had me riding over five miles of dirt road. I rode slowly and kept my eyes sharp. The last thing I needed was to lose traction and go down in a corner or get taken out by a deer. Or, worse, a moose. A broken leg would put a big crimp in my ability to get around.

I pulled into the employee parking lot, yanked my bike up onto its center stand, and buckled my helmet to the back. I ran my hands through my hair to minimize helmet head and strode down the path to the laundry building. The gravel crunched under my feet as I stepped carefully on the slope. I could feel the stones underfoot threatening to roll and send me falling.

The laundry building was up the hill behind the main house, hidden from view behind a stand of evergreens. It could be seen from the road but not from any of the guest rooms. The windows were cracked open, and bits of conversation floated over the sound of the radio. There was a constant battle between the women who listened to rock and those who listened to country. Country must have won today. I could hear Toby Keith singing.

A covered entryway let us pull our Jeeps right up to the sliding door. In theory, this kept the rain and snow out of the clean sheets and towels. The gravel turned to cement as I stepped under the portico. I brushed past a Jeep parked outside the entrance and pushed the button that opened the door. The warm air rushed out at me. The dryers and the huge roller iron used for ironing linens and bedding kept the building nice and warm--too hot in summer or when we were working hard.

Kim and Hailey were working at two tall tables, folding towels. Vera’s sister Dolly, who I assumed was taking over as supervisor, was standing at the iron with Terri. Terri works days in the elementary wing of the school as an aid. Kim and Hailey are high school girls from the next town working nights for a little extra cash.

Kim flipped her blond hair off her face and glared at me. “I didn’t think we’d see you in here tonight.”
“Why not?” I was puzzled by her hostility. Kim could get in a snit on occasion, but as far as I knew, I hadn’t done anything to get on her bad side.
“Everybody knows you hated Vera,” Hailey chimed in. “It’s indecent for you to be here.”
“I found her dead. I didn’t kill her.” I was angry now. “Every single one of you had a problem with Vera. Kim, you stomped out of here early last Thursday because Vera pissed you off.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t have the opportunity to kill her.” Kim flipped her hair. “We were all working in teams when you found her. None of us could have killed her.”
“Wait a minute. I thought her death was an accident.” “The cops have been hanging around asking questions,” said Dolly. “Seems like they think it was murder.”
“Great. And you’ve all decided that I did it. Jeez.”
I walked into the break room and clocked in. I wasn’t exactly surprised that Vera’s death wasn’t accidental, but it still disturbed me. I couldn’t tell if the girls seriously thought I would murder someone. On top of that, niggling around in my head was the thought that I was working where a murderer was lurking.
I had my head in my hands when Dolly walked in. “Those girls are just being nasty. Don’t pay any attention to them. It must have been awful finding Vera lying in the blood like that.” Dotty patted me on the shoulder. “I need someone to go down to the kitchen and get the treats. I thought you might like to get out of here.”
“Yeah. Thanks. You want me to check the office and common rooms while I’m down there?”
“We’ve already done the office. Go ahead and check the common rooms. Take your time. We’ve got a while before people start leaving their rooms for dinner.”
I grabbed the plastic container we used for carrying turndown treats and walked down the hill. I could have driven, but I wanted to be away as long as possible. The air felt good, and there was the beginning of an awesome sunset over the Green Mountains. I was tempted to sit on the grass and watch the sky change color, but I didn’t feel like getting chewed out.
I slipped into the kitchen and hunted down the dessert chef, Amy Kruse. Amy was a petite blond who’d been with the Inn for about six months and was getting rave reviews. The last dessert chef had made things like tiny nuggets of crystallized ginger or mint leaves dipped in chocolate to put beside the beds at night. I don’t know what he was thinking. More of those ended up in the trash than in anybody’s mouth. Probably why he wasn’t working here anymore.
Amy made decadent brownies and cookies, special truffles or chocolate-dipped fruit. She always set aside a few treats for the turndown crew, even though the head chef frowned on staff eating treats. I didn’t know what the big deal was. The kitchen and wait staff ate extras and goof-ups all day long. If the presentation wasn’t perfect, it couldn’t be served to a guest, so an employee ate it. Otherwise, it just went to waste.
Amy had chocolate caramel brownies today. She hadn’t finished frosting them, so I helped myself to an unfrosted one and went to tidy up the common rooms. I flew through the double set of swinging doors that separate the kitchen from the dining room, sweeping my eyes around the room for any detail out of place. I was tidying magazines in the tearoom when Gunnar Ericson, the man in whose cabin Vera had died, sauntered in.
Gunnar stars on a daytime soap opera called, “The Unfaithful.” I’d guess his age to be thirty-ish, and he’s tall, well built, and handsome in a daytime TV kind of way. He’s got the classic Matthew McConaughey thing going for him: blue eyes, blond hair, great smile. Women swoon over him wherever he goes. I wondered if he came to Vermont to take a break from all that.
“Excuse me.” I started to brush past him to make for the door. Housekeepers were supposed to be invisible. If a guest showed up in a room where I was working, I was supposed to disappear, pronto. Only the wait staff were allowed to talk to guests.
Gunnar slid around me and blocked my exit. “Wait a minute. You’ve got something on your face.” He brushed a brownie crumb off my lip in a gesture that was far too familiar for a complete stranger. He slid his hand under my chin. “You know, it’s pretty lonely around here. Why don’t you come to my room later and cheer me up?”
I refrained from saying that after work I would be stinky and sweating from busting my fanny all evening.
“I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to socialize with the guests. Company policy. I’d lose my job.” I backed away
“I’m sure I could get Brian to bend the rules for me.” Gunnar smiled his gazillion watt smile at me. “There is a hot tub in my room. Come share it with me.”
“Sorry, I really can’t. I have to get back to work.” I slid around him and almost ran out the door. I made a beeline for Brian’s office. If a guest approached a staff member, we were supposed to let him know right away. That way, if anyone made a stink later, Brian would know the truth about what happened. Or at least his employee’s version of the truth.
Brian gave me a guest/staff incident report to fill out. “How are you doing, Bree? Finding Vera was tough.”
“I feel kind of weird, but it’ll be fine.”
He nodded his head. “If you need anything, let me know. Your dad would never forgive me if I let anything bad happen to you.” My dad had been Brian’s dad’s boss, way back when. “Oh, and I noticed your car needs inspecting. Better take care of that.”
“It’s in the shop now. Sheesh. You’d think no one in this town had anything better to do than to check other people’s inspection stickers.” I hurried back to the kitchen and picked up our treat box, now filled to the brim. It was dark and chilly now, and I moved quickly up the hill. I was feeling sort of creeped out being back here and having Gunnar hit on me.
I was relieved to step into the light and warmth of the laundry. The crew was all sitting on one of the low sorting tables waiting for rooms to be called out. Normally, we divided into teams of two, but my partner hadn’t bothered to come to work, so we split into a group of two and a group of three. Dolly and I took the main buildings, while the others worked on the cottages. I was glad not to be with the younger women and relieved that I wouldn’t have to drive by the empty cottage where Vera died.
We spent the evening zipping silently along secret passageways and getting supplies out of hidden cupboards. The whole place was designed to give us as little exposure to the guests as possible. We were the proverbial house elves, traveling through underground corridors and popping unseen into rooms. We’d tidy up, turn down the beds, and leave brownies before disappearing again.
At the end of the evening, we carted trash, wet towels and rumpled sheets back to the laundry and dumped them all on the sorting table. It took us another thirty minutes to sort everything into piles, take out the trash, fill the washers, recycle and clean everything up. It was ninethirty when I finally clocked out, jumped on my bike, and motored out of there.
I knew that I should go home and feed my animals, but I wanted to check on Meg, so I headed down the hill into Royalton. I live in an old farmhouse up in the hills. Meg and Tom live in an old farmhouse on the edge of town. That means the road they live on is actually paved, and in the winter it gets plowed on a regular basis, unlike my road.
The wind was whipping over the White River and up the flood plane when I got off the Kawasaki. I shivered. There is a reason this part of town is called Windstorm Valley: it blows nonstop three seasons out of the year. I scrunched my shoulders and hurried to the house. I knocked out of courtesy and let myself in.
Meg was at the kitchen table with Jeremy, their heads bent over a book. I pulled out a chair and sat across from them. Meg looked up and smiled at me. “Hey, there.”
“Whatcha doin’?” I peered over the table at the textbook.
“French test tomorrow,” said Jeremy. “Dad’s better at French than Mom, but he’s at the barracks again.”
“I know just enough to be dangerous,” said Meg, “but I think he’s got most of this stuff memorized now. It’s all weather vocab.”
“So, Jeremy,” I asked. “How do you say it’s colder than a witch’s, uh, toe outside?” Meg was giving me the beady eyeball.
“C'est froid et venteux à l'extérieur.”
“Sounds good to me. You’ll get an A.”
“Go on upstairs, now,” Meg said to Jeremy. “Bree and I need to talk.”
Jeremy raised a hand in farewell and headed out of the room. We listened to him tromp up the stairs, heard his door close and his stereo go on. Sounded like he was listening to Nine Inch Nails.
“So,” I said. “Have you heard anymore about Vera’s death? The girls at work were telling me that the cops have been hanging around, and the cabin she died in still has crime scene tape all around it.”
“Tom’s not talking. Not that he would, but it’s tougher this time. He’s got to be seen as impartial, or they’ll move the investigation.”
“So it really is murder then. I was hoping this was all going to go away.” I put my head in my hands. “The girls at work think it was me.”
“That’s just sour grapes. They’re just jealous ‘cause you’re friends with Brian. You know that.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but the door swung open, and Tom banged in with three of Meg’s dogs surging around his feet. He pushed the door closed, avoided tripping over the dogs, and planted a kiss on the top of Meg’s head.
“Hey, Babe, Bella,” he said. “How’s everything here? The kids doing okay?”
“Jeremy could have used your help with French tonight,” Meg replied. “But I think he’ll do well on his test tomorrow. I’d better go up and tell him it’s lights out. I’ll be back in a minute.” Meg wasn’t fooling me. I knew she still sang a goodnight song to each of her kids. The fact that Jeremy stayed up later than she did half the time didn’t stop her.
I waited until she was out of earshot and turned to Tom. “You are on my list, mister.” I pointed my finger at his chest. “You keep neglecting my best friend, and I’m going to kick your butt.”
“Jeez, Bella,” Tom rubbed his hand across his head. “I’ve got a lot going on down at the barracks right now. Meg knows that. She understands.”
“What Meg understands is that you haven’t taken her out in months. And when was the last time you two hit the hay together? The woman needs some attention, Tom. There are plenty of guys around here that would be happy to fill in the gaps you’re leaving. All they’re waiting for is half a hint that she’s unhappy, and they’ll be following her around like these guys.” I tilted my head toward the dogs and jabbed him in the solar plexus with my finger.
“Shit, Bella. I know she needs attention, but she seems to be making out all right. I thought I could concentrate on the job for a while. Get things up at the barracks under control.”
“That place has always been a madhouse. It’s going to take more than a few months to make it anything else. It’s not worth losing your marriage over.” I poked him again.
He grunted and pushed my finger away. “I didn’t even consider that was a possibility.”
“Take her out to dinner. Better still, go somewhere tonight. Drag Meg down to Crossroads, dance, get drunk, then bring her home and take advantage of her. That’s what I’d do if I were a guy.”
“What about the kids? Can’t leave them here alone. Gemma might wake up. And I doubt the animals have been fed.”
“I’ll stay with the kids. And I can feed your animals while you and Meg are getting changed. You won’t get this offer every day, so you’d better get moving.”
“What about
your
animals? Have they been fed yet?”
“No, but my neighbor Max owes me a favor. I’ll call and ask if him to throw them some food. It’s no problem.”
“Thanks, Bella. I‘ll go ask Meg if she wants to go.”
“You’ll go
tell
Meg that you’re going.” I grabbed my coat and headed to the barn. I knew the barn routine by heart. I’d fed their animals when each of the kids was born, when Meg and Tom were on their honeymoon, and any number of other times. I checked to see that the cows had round bales and water. I threw the horses good hay and grained them. I stopped and scratched Meg’s old Morgan, Falstaff, behind the ears.
I latched the door to the chicken house to keep out foxes and weasels and started down to the duck pond at the bottom of the hill. I was about halfway down when I stepped on a slick patch of earth, and my feet slid out from under me. I landed on my butt in the mud. A few choice words escaped me, and I heard laughter from behind me.
Rob, my mechanic, was standing on the road above the barn looking down at me. “Nice language,” he called down.
“What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you lurking around here at night.”
“Farmer Ron’s cows got loose. I was helping him herd them home.”
“Why don’t you come down here and help me? We’ll see what kind language comes out of you.”
“No, thanks. I know what kind of language would come out of me. I always swear in French.”
“So you’re going to walk away and leave me sitting here in the mud?”
“Yep. But I’ll make for it up by taking you to coffee tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at the paper around ten-thirty.” He sauntered off down the road.
“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath, not really meaning it. I knew he was too smart to try and extract me from the mud. He was probably on his way to meet his girlfriend in town. I got up, slopped down the hill, and fed the ducks. I stepped in a puddle at the edge of the pond and made my way back up to the house, squelching with every step.
I went through the back door and into the mudroom. “Hey, guys,” I called out. “I’ve got a small mud problem.” I bent down and undid the buckles on my boots. I slid them off and put them by the door.
Tom looked in at me and laughed. “What happened to you? “We don’t even have ice out there yet.”
“Ran into a little trouble with that muddy spot on the hill. I’m going to have to take these jeans off, or you’re going to have mud all over your house.”
Tom disappeared into the laundry room and came back with a pair of clean sweats. “Here, you can wear these. I don’t think you’d fit in Meg’s jeans. You’re about a foot taller than she is.”
“And just about as big around as you are. Nice of you not to say so. Now you guys get out of here before you turn into pumpkins.”
Meg came into the kitchen and gaped at me standing in the mudroom. “Oh my God, Bree, I’m so sorry. Tom should have warned you about the hill. He slipped on it yesterday. Came in head-to-toe in mud. There’s a spring running at the top of the hill, and it’s turned the path into a mire.”
“I’m all right. Rob McCullough was walking on the road and saw me fall, so my pride is hurting, but other than that, it’s just a little wet dirt. Now get on out of here before I change my mind and take my muddy self home.”