The Purloined Letter Opener Page 8

  Lydia could read between the lines easily enough to hear the unspoken words—that right at the moment, it didn’t look good for Alice.

  “Have a nice evening,” Lydia told Ellis before she walked back to where Bill stood. He asked her to package up another couple of bottles for him while he took care of the last of the tastings.

  Lydia walked pensively back into the kitchen. Alice hadn’t killed Schooner Thomas, no matter what Ellis might think. Neither had Theo, though she knew the police suspected him as well.

  Whoever had done it needed to step forward and admit it, so that life in Lake Hope could return to some semblance of normal. That was all there was to it.

  15

  Lydia helped Bill reload the van with the last of the cases that hadn’t sold. As usual, the evening had cooled off considerably, to the point where Lydia grabbed a sweater before she stepped out. Stars peeked out of the dark sky, visible even with the few streetlights that shone. Music interrupted the quiet, coming from The Point—a bar down the street—something much too loud and fast for her tastes. The air still carried a taste of hot asphalt from earlier that day, another promise of the summer heat still to come.

  It had been a good night. At least half the cases Bill had brought with him were now empty.

  “I saw you sitting with that detective earlier,” Bill said as he closed the van’s doors.

  “Just curious about the case, like everyone else,” Lydia said lightly.

  “Don’t try to lie to this old poker player,” Bill said with mock seriousness. “The sparks you two were throwing could have lit the place on fire.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes at him. “He’s a detective first,” she said after a few moments. “I doubt any of us will ever see the real him.”

  “I’m not too sure about that,” Bill said. “Oh! That reminds me! What I’d wanted to tell you earlier!”

  “Yes?” Lydia said when Bill didn’t instantly continue.

  “Peter thought he saw Neil, your ex, out at the wine room last week,” Bill said. “He wasn’t positive. But he thought it was Neil. Was asking if we sold any beer,” Bill added with an eye roll.

  Lydia felt as though her entire world had suddenly slipped, as if she’d just drunk a full bottle of wine all on her own. The stars seemed to whirl above her, and the music from down the street suddenly clashed, loud and discordant.

  “Really?” she asked. “Why the hell would he come back here? He hated it here, hated Lake Hope. Was so glad to shake the dust off his shoes when we landed in Seattle.”

  That had been a huge part of their problem. Lydia had always remained close to her parents. Neil hadn’t. They’d ended up with huge screaming matches before the start of any holiday, when Lydia wanted to leave Seattle and come back to Lake Hope to visit her family.

  “Don’t know,” Bill said. “Figured he’d be coming to see you.”

  “Why would he do that?” Lydia said, honestly confused. “He loves Seattle. Hell, one of the last things that Neil did was to threaten to get ‘even’ with me for ruining his life.” Neil had always been something of a drama queen. He also frequently blamed other people for his problems instead of addressing them himself.

  In fact, now that she was thinking about it, she realized that he’d hated Schooner Thomas as well, and had made the same threats about getting even with him. The principal had refused to write letters of recommendation for Neil back in the day. He’d blamed not getting into the first college of his choice on that, instead of on the fact that he’d nearly flunked out of calculus. Twice.

  Bill shrugged. “Is there something going on with his family, then?”

  “I’ll ask Misty, tomorrow,” Lydia said. She hadn’t kept in touch with Neil’s family. They hadn’t wanted anything to do with her when she’d come back to Lake Hope, not after their precious son had thrown her to the curb. At least they’d mostly kept their opinions to themselves and hadn’t actively tried to ruin her B&B.

  Bill nodded. He took a deep breath then let it go. “Come out and see us sometime,” he said seriously. “While it’s quiet here, it’s even more peaceful out at the vineyard.”

  Bill and Peter had put her up for a weekend once, while she’d been trying to decide about running their tasting room for them. It had been a little too quiet out there for Lydia.

  “Thanks,” Lydia said. “I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe in September, when I close the B&B and go on vacation…”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Bill said, giving her one last long hug.

  Lydia soaked up all the comfort she could before returning back to the B&B and closing up for the night.

  Yes, she loved her place, and the work she did. But maybe it would be good to get away for a while, later.

  Humming, she grabbed herself a large glass from the bottle of the new chardonnay that Bill had left her, then made her way back to her rooms, content to sit and sip wine and maybe read something for the rest of the evening. She needed a distraction, to forget about potential siblings and detectives with dreamy eyes.

  As well as an ex who’d come back to haunt her.

  16

  Lydia woke up angry. Her jaw hurt because she’d been clenching her teeth all night. Even her muscles were sore from being so tense. She stretched while still lying on her bed, sticking her arms out of the warm cocoon of covers, then drawing them back in again. During the summer, she slept with a window partially open, keeping the room cool so she could pile on the blankets.

  It took her a couple of moments to figure out what was wrong, why rage boiled in her chest like an angry thunderbolt looking for a target. It wasn’t the murder, though that didn’t help. It wasn’t that she was tired of working all the time, though that stress did add to her troubles. It wasn’t even that she knew that she and Ellis would never have a chance at a relationship.

  No. It was the possibility that Neil had returned to Lake Hope.

  This was her hometown. Yes, he might have come from here originally, just as she had. But he’d disowned it. Had never wanted to come back here, even for vacations. Rarely talked with his family. She could just hear his snide remarks about her chosen career—how she might call herself a hotelier but that just meant she cleaned toilets for a living.

  Damn it! He was not allowed to come here and ruin her life.

  She snorted at herself as she sat up in bed. Right. Because his coming here was going to make a mess of everything.

  Lydia looked around her bedroom. When she’d built the addition, and then decorated it, she’d made every design decision based on whether the result would delight her or not. It wasn’t good enough to just be pretty or functional. No, it had to be both, as well as delightful.

  So the ceiling was slanted, the high point being over the door in the far corner, the wall above her headboard the shortest. Beautiful cedar wood made up the ceiling, coated with a shiny varnish but unstained, so the natural beauty shone through and it reflected light, which made the room seem even brighter. She’d painted the walls a soothing gray-blue that changed colors as the light shifted during the day, making the room seem different all the time. The floors were a manufactured hardwood, stained a rich mahogany, an elegant contrast to everything else. She’d reclaimed the dresser she’d grown up with from her parents, stripped off the white paint to reveal the beautiful cherry wood underneath.

  Her walls held a few pictures of family, a beautiful painting of New York that Ed and Alan had given her, and a cork board where she put special postcards that she received from her guests, pictures from their hometowns or other places they visited. Everything was chic but still homey.

  Lydia made herself take a deep breath, trying to let go of her anger. Despite her shoulders dropping, her toes and fists still curled.

  Nope. Relaxation wasn’t going to happen. She was going to be pissed off about Neil coming to her hometown for a while yet.

  She sighed and pushed herself off her bed, leaning down to touch her toes, stretching out her back. She should really
start going to yoga class every evening again, though honestly, most nights she felt too tired by the time classes started.

  Maybe after the busy season was over. For now, she needed to get ready for her day.

  And prepare herself for when she crossed paths with her ex again.

  Lydia tried to take satisfaction in chopping grapes, strawberries, and melons, but it wasn’t enough. No, she still wanted to take her sharpest knife and just skewer Neil. Followed closely by skinning whoever it was who’d killed Schooner Thomas. Then maybe a little light torture of Ellis Avery as well, for disrupting her nice, calm, placid life.

  Had Neil come back and killed Schooner? That didn’t seem to be in character for her ex. While on the one hand, he’d talked frequently about getting revenge on this person or that. On the other hand, he’d never gotten off his ass and done anything.

  Then again, he had been the one to ask for the divorce. Lydia had known that there were problems with their marriage. She hadn’t been happy. She’d still been completely surprised when he’d served papers on her.

  Lydia tried to give Misty a big smile when she came into the kitchen. While Lydia had dressed in tans and pinks that day in an effort to cheer herself up, Misty wore dark colors, looking somber.

  Misty took one look at Lydia and asked, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

  Lydia sighed and put the knife down so she wouldn’t chop off a finger or something. “That obvious?”

  “When you bare your teeth at me like that, yeah,” Misty said with a laugh. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Well,” Lydia said slowly. She was sometimes hesitant to tap into Misty’s wide network of contacts, in part because she didn’t want to know just how far of a reach the other woman had. “Bill told me that Peter had seen Neil out at the wine tasting room last week.”

  Misty blinked, looking surprised. “Really?”

  Lydia could see the woman running through her Rolodex of gossip and information.

  “Okay, as far as I know his parents are fine,” Misty said after a few moments. “But I can check with the receptionist at their doctor’s office and make sure.”

  “Is that legal?” Lydia asked. “Isn’t that a HIPAA violation or something?”

  Misty just waved a hand, as if clearing away any doubts. “Close enough,” she said. “It’s a small town. Someone saw them going to the clinic if they went. But I won’t be able to do any real checking until Monday.”

  Lydia nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” she said. She sighed. “I’d really like to know what that asshole is doing here.” Because of course her mind leaped to the worst possible conclusion, that he’d come here to ruin her life.

  “You got it, boss,” Misty said. She came around to the other side of the counter, picking up the knife. “Now, before you hurt yourself or someone else, why don’t you go make coffee and set the tables up? I’ll take care of the rest of the prep.”

  “Thank you,” Lydia said, more relieved than she’d expected. She and Misty swapped responsibilities on a regular basis, so it wasn’t as if she’d never done service out front before. But today, she just couldn’t be in the kitchen.

  In fact, she felt the need to get out of the B&B altogether.

  Lydia kept a polite smile in place as she greeted the people drifting into the restaurant. Ellis Avery was up early, having his usual eggs, bacon, fruit salad, and tea. Lydia treated him the same as everyone else, ignoring the way she wanted to run her fingertips along his smooth chin, as well as how she wanted to drift just a little closer to get a better smell of his aftershave. He held himself just as aloof, that veneer of police detective firmly in place, the man hidden behind that smoky wall.

  It was just Lydia’s imagination that she felt his eyes following her as she made her way across the busy restaurant, serving her customers and bussing tables so the next guests could come and sit down.

  All the tables filled up and she even had a waiting list for a while, due to tourists coming in from other hotels. It was mornings like this when she wished she could hire someone else to help in the restaurant. However, she wasn’t usually this busy. Having more help was an expense she couldn’t afford, as much as she needed the extra hands that day.

  The breakfast rush cleared out around eleven. It appeared that no one wanted lunch. Which was good, as both Lydia and Misty needed a bit of breathing room. There were only two rooms changing over that night—everyone else was staying for the weekend and wouldn’t leave until Sunday.

  After Lydia had brought down the linens from the rooms and started the laundry, she turned around, looking at the four walls of the laundry room. The two stacks of industrial machines took up the back wall, their quiet humming a constant source of pride. In front of Lydia was the folding table, built to her specifications, so it was exactly the right height for doing laundry on. She kept the B&B seasonal decorations stored back here, neatly ordered in labeled plastic bins. She was going to have to dig out the Fourth of July bin next weekend, put up all the flags and pennants.

  Lydia didn’t feel trapped in the room, not exactly. But those walls were kind of closing in on her.

  She walked back to the kitchen. There just wasn’t much to do at that point. No new customers had come in to eat lunch. Misty could handle the two couples who were there. All the dishes had been done and put away from the morning rush. Misty was chatting on the phone in Spanish with one of her numerous relatives.

  Maybe Lydia could go do some weeding, out behind the building? No, that didn’t sound appealing at all. She’d never understood her mother’s need to garden.

  Misty finished off her conversation just then. “There’s a package at the post office that you should go pick up,” she said. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared intently at Lydia. “Now.”

  Lydia got the message. “Yes, Mom,” she said with an exaggerated sigh, though she knew that getting out of the B&B, actually leaving the premises for a while, was the best thing she could do.

  “You could also pick up the pastries for tomorrow from The Palace,” Misty said. “After you come back.”

  “Thank you,” Lydia said, smiling. She was happy to be out running errands today.

  “I’ll hold down the fort,” Misty said. “And I’ll text you if we get a lunch rush or something. For now—just go.”

  Lydia nodded. She knew that her restlessness was mostly due to the left-over anger at Neil. She couldn’t wait to get the inevitable confrontation with him over with. She turned and marched right out of the B&B and into the street. It was sunny, bright, and quiet. Right now that felt good, though Lydia knew she’d miss the rain after a few more weeks of this. Few cars were parked, and fewer tourists were ambling down the sidewalk. Good. That meant an even quieter day.

  Since Misty had everything so well in hand, and the tourists appeared to be cooperating, maybe Lydia could go hunting Neil.

  Thus equipped with her tasks, Lydia strode down the street with great determination. To pick up the mail, get the pastries, and find her ex.

  And tell him to get the hell out of her hometown.

  17

  The post office was in yet another new building on the opposite side of town from the B&B. During Lydia’s lifetime, it had move three times. When she’d been a girl, the post office had been in one of the older buildings in downtown proper, on Main Street. However, while the building was regal looking, made up of a yellowish brick, with marble floors and brass fixtures on the inside, it had never been well maintained. During a particularly wet spring, the entire roof had collapsed. Lydia remembered mourning the building, along with her parents, as it had been so pretty.

  The post office had moved to a temporary location just a few blocks away, into a converted department store. When Lydia had gone there with her mother as a teen, she remembered that there were always cardboard boxes of supplies piled up against the walls, making the front office area tiny.

  While Lydia had been away, a brand-new post office buildin
g had finally been erected, where an old parking lot had been. It didn’t have the character of the first building, but the roof was solid. And chances were, the post office would be there for a good long time.

  This post office always seemed dim to Lydia, with the only bright lights shining on the workers behind the counter. A long line snaked through the open area, people mailing packages or picking up their mail on a Saturday. Lydia joined the line, a little restless still, though the walk all the way through downtown to the other side had done her good.

  Joseph Tiwali stood in line in front of her. He owned the single car repair shop in town, and wore a light-blue shirt with thin white stripes, with his name embroidered above the left pocket. He smelled of oil and gears, like her dad now often did since he’d retired and started working as a handyman. Joseph had an easy smile and a friendly nature, and had gone through three wives over the years. He had at least four children, possibly more if the gossip was to be believed.

  There wasn’t a gas station in Lake Hope—you had to go out to the highway for that. Joseph did a good business either towing cars or bringing gas to those who got stranded. He’d been a few years ahead of her in high school.

  “Heard any news about the murder?” he asked, turning slightly to chat with her. He had a three-foot stack of packages at his feet, all carefully wrapped and already labeled.

  “The police are still investigating all possibilities,” Lydia said, carefully choosing her words. Joseph didn’t deserve any of her anger at either Neil or at Ellis Avery.

  “Can’t get that detective to talk, huh?” he teased. It didn’t surprise Lydia that Joseph knew that the detective was staying at her B&B. That was old news at this point.

  “They aren’t telling anyone anything,” Lydia said with a smile. She actually was kind of glad that the police were taking the situation seriously, respecting Schooner Thomas’s privacy. “So how are your girls?” she asked in return.