Ring In the Year with Murder--An Otter Lake Mystery Page 2

  I frowned again. “Well, I could have done without the image,” I said, scratching Stanley behind the ear, “but no, I am not.”

  Grady Forrester. Sheriff. Most handsome man in the universe. My ex-something. Now half of the cutest couple in Otter Lake. The other half? Candace Carmichael. Blond. Sweet. Dimpled-cheeked Candace Carmichael. Who would have thought that Candace, the woman I had once accused of murder—in fairness, I wasn’t the only one—would now be Grady’s girlfriend? Well, actually a lot of people might have thought that. But I was pretty sure nobody thought that they would still be together. I certainly didn’t.

  I could see why Freddie might be concerned. Okay, yes, a week ago I was a little anti-New Year’s. After all, this time last year Grady and I were pretty rock solid. While we hadn’t actually spent New Year’s together because he had to be in Otter Lake for work, we had spent an amazing Christmas with one another as a couple in Chicago. But that was last year. This year I’d spent Christmas eating tofu turkey with my mother. So there was that. But I’d made it through. The worst was over now. It was time to move on.

  Freddie threw his hands in the air. “Just like that? You’re over it.”

  “Yes. Just like that. Can we please go inside now?” Stanley was giving off a little body heat, but my nose was still starting to run.

  Freddie pinched his lips and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not buying it.”

  I groaned.

  “Look, you and I both know that you’ve never really talked about how things ended between you and Grady, probably because at first we all thought that this thing with Candace wouldn’t last, and then you were pretty distracted with the move home, but now—”

  “There’s nothing to talk about, Freddie,” I said with a shrug. “I’ve accepted that sometimes relationships just don’t work out.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” I ignored the super skeptical look he was giving me and instead ran my hand over the bumps of my finger-waved, 1920s-styled tresses. It had been my greatest hair achievement to date, but I was concerned the snowmobile helmet I had worn on the way over had given it a mermaid silhouette—you know, skinny at the top, flared at the bottom. We hadn’t had a choice though. Freddie’s Jimmy was in the shop, and I didn’t have a car.

  “Okay,” Freddie said. “Well, I’m willing to go along with your whole delusion du jour, but remember, we’re representing the company tonight. Who knows what rich, security-needing friends of Matthew’s might be here?”

  “I won’t forget.”

  Matthew Masterson, of course, owned Hemlock Estate, and yes, he did have rich friends. He had done pretty well for himself as an architect in New York before moving back to New Hampshire, but I couldn’t help but think Freddie was overstating the importance of this night as a business opportunity. That being said, I wasn’t going to argue with him. Again, the whole Stanley situation had him a little on edge.

  “We need to be professional tonight,” Freddie went on. “It’s already bad enough that I had to bring the dog.”

  Speak of the furry devil. “Why did you bring him?”

  “Because he’s like eight thousand years old and sleeps all the time, but if I leave him alone for even two minutes”—Freddie jabbed two fingers into the air—“he pees all over the place. Every time.”

  I looked down again into the dog’s big, sweet, bulbous eyes. “Don’t you listen to him, Stanley. Freddie can be super mean sometimes. I’d take you home with me, but right now, I’m living with my mother who has the most evil cat in the whole entire world.” I made some big scary eyes. “And he’d eat you right up. Yes, he would.”

  “Okay, you’re really freaking me out right now.”

  I blinked. “Why?”

  “You don’t talk baby talk with animals, and—”

  “Yes, I do,” I whispered down at Stanley.

  “And I’m really concerned that you are overcompensating with all this sunshine because you’re actually really upset. And we both know that when you get upset, and put too tight a lid on your emotions, things tend to get a little crazy.”

  “I have no idea what you are talk—”

  “Hey, guys!”

  Freddie and I turned to see Rhonda hurrying down the path toward us, hand up in greeting. Excellent. I didn’t like where Freddie was headed just then. Okay, so fine, back when we were teenagers, I may have had a bit of a reputation for losing it once or twice when my emotions got the better of me, but that was a long time ago. I was a kid. I was much better at handling my feelings now. I’d only slipped up once or twice in the past couple of years, and those had been in pretty extreme circumstances. Besides, I knew how important the business was to Freddie. It was important to me too. I didn’t want to go back to court reporting full-time. I wasn’t going to mess this night up.

  “Hey, look who it is,” Freddie called out. “The captain of the Good Ship Lollipop.”

  Rhonda shot him a look as she climbed the steps to join us on the veranda.

  “Rhonda! Happy New Year!” I ignored the slightly startled look she gave in response to my greeting and subsequent one-armed, dog-holding hug. I’d never been much of a hugger in the past, but I was working on that too. “You look great!”

  She pulled back, giving Stanley a scratch behind the ear. She must have already heard all about him from Freddie. “Do you really think so? It was the only thing the costume shop over in Honey Harbor had left.”

  I took in her sailor’s outfit. With her red curly hair she did kind of look like a grown-up Shirley Temple. “Yeah, sorry, I think I got their last flapper dress. But I mean it. You look great. It’s super fun.”

  “Thanks,” Rhonda said uncertainly. She exchanged a look with Freddie. “And how are you doing tonight, Erica? You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She gave me a sympathetic nod like a nurse might give to a terminal patient. “Really? I know this can’t be an easy night for you what with Grady and—”

  “Oh my God. What is with you guys?” I asked, eyes darting back and forth between them. “Okay, yes, I will admit Grady and I never really had any closure. One minute we were together then poof!” I exploded my fingers in the air. “We weren’t. But it’s been almost a year now. And you know what? I’m young, I’m single, and I am working security at a fancy New Year’s Eve party. With all that going for me, how sad would it be if I were the type of person who was still all hung up on her ex-boyfriend after nearly a year had passed?”

  Rhonda suddenly looked like she might cry. “It would be really, really sad, Erica. Especially if that type of person didn’t feel like she could talk about her feelings with her closest friends.”

  “Oh for the love of—” I threw my free hand up in the air as she and Freddie exchanged another look.

  “Would you two stop looking at each other! What do you think is going to happen tonight? I’m going to burst into tears when Grady and Candace kiss at midnight? Knock a few glasses out of people’s hands as they pretend to know the words to “Auld Lang Syne”? Maybe flip a table filled with champagne bottles?”

  “That was scarily specific,” Freddie said.

  Stanley groaned in my arms. Perhaps I was holding him a little tight. “For the last time,” I said, taking a breath. “Thank you, but I’m fine. Really. Just freezing to death.”

  “Okay, well … good,” Rhonda said.

  “Great,” Freddie added.

  “Perfect,” I finished.

  “You two should go on ahead,” Rhonda said. “I saw you when I was parking the car. I just wanted to say hi.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “I’m, uh, just going to meet my cousin,” Rhonda said, her eyes darting away from mine. “She’s almost here.”

  Rhonda’s cousin.

  Rhonda’s infamous cousin.

  The cousin she was always threatening to set up with every eligible bachelor in town—including Grady when he was eligible. My guess was that she had her matchmaking si
ghts set on Matthew now. Which was totally fine. Because Matthew and I were just friends. I mean, yes, we did have some sort of connection. But with everything that had happened with Grady, the timing never felt right. And while I may have been thinking that we were getting closer to the right time—what with Grady and Candace coming up on a year—I wasn’t ready to make a move yet. And it certainly wasn’t fair to ask Matthew to wait any longer. If that’s even what he was doing. So yeah, it was fine. Totally fine. “I didn’t know she was coming,” I said with a smile. “Aren’t we working?”

  “Rhonda’s not,” Freddie said, jumping in. “She was already coming to the party as a guest before we got the call, so it’s just you and me keeping an eye on things. Besides,” he said to me under his breath, “they’re only giving us two free meals at the Dawg, so—” He made a quick “cut it out” gesture with his hand.

  That’s right. We were getting paid in gift certificates. But it wasn’t actually a bad deal given that we weren’t expected to do anything tonight but keep an eye on things. Whatever that meant. The whole situation was kind of strange though. Freddie and I had both found it weird that the historical society had made a point of asking us to come last-minute. Otter Lake didn’t exactly have a lot of crime … well, aside from the recent spate of murders. Three to be exact. Over the period of like a year and a half. But that was crazy high. “Hey, did you ever find out what made them ask us to come?”

  “Possibly,” Freddie said with a knowing twinkle in his eye. “I tried asking a few more members of the society, but they just kept saying stuff like, It wouldn’t be a party without Otter Lake Security, so I started asking some questions around town and—” He leaned toward us and gave a completely unnecessary side-to-side look. “Rumor has it that someone in town received a threatening letter.” He then leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

  “What?” Rhonda and I both asked at the same time.

  “What kind of threatening letter?” I went on. “To who? Why would somebody do that?”

  Freddie shook his head. “I couldn’t find out any more details. But I figured we’d ask around tonight.”

  Huh, I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt about all this. I mean, until we had more details, there wasn’t any reason to get all freaked out. Otter Lake thrived on gossip—the more outrageous the better. Facts sometimes got lost in the mix. But, even so, I didn’t like the idea of someone sending threatening letters. That was just not cool. Otter Lake wasn’t like that … again, murders aside.

  “Well, if anything exciting happens tonight,” Rhonda said. “You’d better tell me. Jessica will understand if I have to work. She’ll be fine on her own. She’s really good at making friends.”

  I found myself rolling my eyes again for some unknown reason.

  “I should probably go find her,” Rhonda said, looking out to the driveway. “She’s coming on her own. She had a work emergency. A mare went into early labor.”

  Oh yeah, that’s right. Rhonda’s cousin was a vet. And Matthew was an architect. That was a cute professional match. They could live in a fabulous house with lots of healthy animals … and nice doghouses. Probably end up on the cover of a magazine.

  “Okay, well, we’ll see you inside,” Freddie said.

  Rhonda waved and hustled back down the front steps.

  “You still good?” Freddie asked.

  “Yeah. Totally. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “No reason.” Freddie held open the front door for me. I ignored the explosion sound he made as I passed by.

  Chapter Two

  Walking into a warm home after taking a cold snowmobile ride had to be one of the best sensations life had to offer—especially when the home was as beautiful as this one.

  I mean, yes, again, Hemlock Estate was a gorgeous house any time of the year, but tonight, she was spectacular. The main entrance hall in which we were now standing had a classic black-and-white tile floor and two wrought-iron staircases that curved up either side of the foyer to the second floor. Dropped down in between was an enormous mirrored glass chandelier that did a pretty fantastic job of setting off the white poinsettias and giant freestanding candelabras that filled the room.

  I only had a second to enjoy it, though, before I was torn from the view by Freddie’s fingers snapping in the air.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Summoning Tyler.”

  I spotted the teenage boy hurrying across the foyer.

  “By snapping at him?”

  “He likes it,” Freddie said sharply, while clipping a bedazzled leash onto Stanley’s collar. “Makes him feel important.”

  “Right.”

  Tyler and two of his buddies had crashed Freddie’s boat about a year and a half ago during a joyride. After much pleading from the boys’ parents, Freddie had opted not to press charges—if the boys agreed to an informal community-service agreement. Now, when anybody in town needed anything—driveway shoveled, rain gutters cleaned, dogs walked—the boys were called up to bat. I guess Freddie had volunteered them to help out at the party tonight.

  Turned out, they were all pretty nice kids. They just didn’t have the best judgment, as evidenced by the joyride that got them into their indentured servitude in the first place. And even though they had crashed Freddie’s baby, he had formed a strange bond with the teens. I think they found his constant insults entertaining. Tyler was my favorite of them all. He was a little shy, but a total sweetheart.

  “Sorry, Miss Erica,” Tyler said, hurrying to take my coat then Freddie’s. “They needed me in the kitchen.”

  “Miss Erica?” I repeated, looking pointedly at Freddie.

  “What? I’m teaching him some manners and respect.” He then lowered Stanley to the floor and pointed at him. “Don’t pee.”

  Stanley just groaned and closed his eyes.

  Freddie sighed then frowned at Tyler. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at the boy’s throat.

  Tyler tilted his chin down in a vain attempt to get a look at his own neck.

  “Straighten your tie. That is a two-thousand-dollar tuxedo jacket you’re wearing. Show some respect.”

  I looked back and forth between the two of them. Two-thousand-dollar…?

  “Better?” Tyler asked, tugging at the ends of his bow tie—our jackets still hanging over his arm.

  Freddie sniffed. “Passable.”

  “Do you think Chloe will like it?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care. Off with you.”

  Tyler smiled and shot Freddie a thumbs-up. “Your dog’s awesome, by the way.”

  “He’s not my—”

  But Tyler had already taken off in what I was guessing must be the direction of the coat room.

  I waved a hand after him. “What was that all about?”

  Freddie rolled his eyes. “He wants to impress this girl Chloe, so I lent him some clothes. She’s helping out tonight too.”

  “Oh yeah, I know Chloe,” I said. “I mean, not well, but, whatever, that is so sweet of you.”

  Freddie let out a disgusted sigh. “I’m regretting it already. I’ll never get all the body spray out of that shirt.”

  I nodded. The kid did like his spray. “So, about this whole threatening-letter business—”

  “I’ll be right back,” Freddie suddenly said, walking away. “Restroom break.”

  Well, that had been abrupt. But if I wasn’t mistaken, Freddie had been looking down at Stanley right before he walked away. The dog had already fallen asleep on the floor. Judging by the drool puddling on the tile, he was really tired. This whole dog thing was obviously more traumatizing than I’d thought. I really needed to find a way to cheer Freddie up. And even though it wasn’t my business—actually, it was totally my business, we were best friends—I couldn’t help but think that if Freddie could just open his heart up a little bit, Stanley would be really good for him. Maybe help him heal some old wounds. The only problem was, I couldn’t even get him to talk about Daisy and what had happe
ned to h—

  Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “Erica, thank goodness I was able to get you alone.”

  Well, that wasn’t a promising start to a conversation.

  I turned to see Mrs. Watson, president of the historical society. People sometimes referred to her as the dragon because even though she came off as a very sweet, community-minded, God-fearing woman—and for the most part, she totally was—she wouldn’t hesitate to take you down with a well-placed word if you crossed her.

  She looked awesome tonight. Her pixie-cut white hair and red-rimmed glasses set off the crimson Nehru jacket she was sporting. Sure, it wasn’t exactly flapper gear, but the embroidery on the satin made me wonder if it was a legit piece from the period.

  “Hi, Mrs. Watson,” I said with a smile. “Happy New Year. Is there something—”

  She cut me off with a wave of her hand. “Yes, your mother was hoping to have a word with you, and only you, in the other room.”

  This conversation was becoming more alarming by the second.

  “My mother?” I said it like I had never heard of the woman before—which was strange. I mean, I knew she was coming to the party. But what I didn’t know was why she would want to have a word with me. Alone. Or why she’d send Mrs. Watson and not just come herself. I sidestepped out of the way of a group of newly arrived guests. I didn’t recognize them. Must be Matthew’s friends from New York. A shuttle bus was apparently bringing people back and forth from a resort in the White Mountains. “Is something wrong?”

  “I certainly don’t think so. Not yet at least.”

  I cocked my head. That wasn’t exactly the reassurance I was hoping for.

  “Follow me. She’s in the old smoking room getting ready.”

  “Getting ready? Getting ready for what?”

  “It’s nothing really,” she said, patting my arm. “Better if you see for yourself.”

  I scooped up Stanley and followed Mrs. Watson through the early crowd of party-goers. I nodded at a few people I knew as we came to a set of sliding pocket doors which she opened just a foot or so. “I’ll close this after you. We don’t want to spoil the surprise for everyone.”