leasing event, so I dressed up. But he didn’t show. Let’s see, Barry’s social life… well, I thought he was going out real seriously with Ellie McNeely. In case you wondered why I was being so nice to Barry at our meeting, I was trying to get on his good side, in case Teddy showed up again and made more trouble. Didn’t work, though.”
“Do the police… I mean, are they searching for Teddy because he’s underage, or because he’s missing, or—” I couldn’t finish my own sentence, because I knew the answer.
“They don’t look for anyone who’s just missing until forty-eight hours have gone by.” The line filled with static; Liz must have been driving by some high rocks. “They’re searching for Teddy for the same reason they told me not to leave town. Even though Julian’s been arrested, we’re both still suspects in Barry’s murder.” She paused. “Goldy, you’re one of the few friends I have.”
The line went dead.
Well. I hadn’t felt particularly good since the portable toilet ordeal, but now a warm glow suffused my senses. I had helped Ellie, after a fashion. And now I was helping Liz. Arch might think I was always bugging him or getting in the way, but at least my friends appreciated me. On this happy note, I put in a call to Marla, who was out. Well, Easter was right around the corner. Marla always spent enormous amounts of time and money finding clothes in the hues of dyed eggs. Then again, maybe she was hunting for more gossip that could help Julian—to her, this would be much more attractive than groping in ice-covered undergrowth for eggs.
And speaking of which… outside, a blinding curtain of snowflakes had begun to whirl down. Welcome to spring in Aspen Meadow. One year, it had snowed every day in May. I pitied Liz driving the narrow, winding foothills road between Boulder and Aspen Meadow.
I turned my attention back to the Stockhams’ menu. The dishes Shane had ordered—primarily cold salads— were more suitable to the brief spell of unseasonably warm weather we’d had back in March than to what we were experiencing now, that is, the usual “Springtime in the Rockies,” which was basically “Return to the Arctic.” Plus, what about these extra people I’d heard about… not from the client?
I took all the food for the Prospective Tenants’ Lunch out of the refrigerator and placed it on the counter. It was possible I had a way out of this food mess.
Making small last-minute changes to a menu was a prerogative I reserved. The proviso—always explained to clients—was that Goldilocks’ Catering would make up the cost difference if the new dishes, necessitated by market, weather, or oversight-on-our-part situations, were more expensive than those originally ordered.
And speaking of expensive, I wanted to ask Shane about these possible extra guests, and remind him of his payment due. Yes, I had the money from Westside, but if I didn’t hold Shane responsible for
Eight o’clock was a tad early to be calling a client, but Shane was pretty Type-A, so I figured he, too, could be on his third cup of coffee. I punched in the buttons for the Stockham house.
Shane answered on the first ring. “Oh, God, don’t tell me you’re canceling!” His voice shook with dismay. “Sorry! I have caller ID, Goldy The snow’s really coming down, but I
“A dozen, Shane?”
He continued, oblivious. “Could you whip up another soup? Maybe a French onion, with cheese-slathered croutons? Page bought some Gruyere last week, I think it’s still around. Omigod, look at this
“Shane, hold on.” I then reassured him that the snow was not an issue, except as it impacted the menu. “Remember, Shane, you booked for six people. Not twelve. Six.”
“Oops! I’ve added half a dozen women, didn’t I tell you?”
“You did not. Most caterers would say it was impossible.”
“Oh,
“You’re in luck. I’ll do it for one and a half times the first rate, provided I actually get the payment from you when we arrive.” He moaned, but I went on: “How would you feel about a gorgeous prime rib of beef with red wine gravy?”
“Today? Really?”
“Yes. But Shane, remember your check? I need it before my assistant and I set up.”
“Can we barter?” he whined. “I can get you some fabulous electronic equipment! Wholesale!”
“Shane!” I closed my eyes.
He lowered his voice. “I’ve got a perfectly nice ruby, sapphire, and diamond ring right here in front of me, Goldy,” he whispered. “Over a half carat for each stone, flawless quality, great colors. The stones alone are worth twelve thousand bucks, and that’s not even counting the fourteen-carat-gold setting. If I don’t get a check from an investor today, you keep the ring.”
I sighed. “Do you
He gulped. “It’s… mostly paid for. We owe about another thousand for it on Visa. I promise, Goldy, that’s the
I cast a glance along our counter, taking in the enormous rib roast, the bundles of endive and radicchio, the boxes of wild mushrooms, the bowls of fresh strawberries and rhubarb. I tried to imagine hauling all of it over to the Stockhams’, along with a bald guy with a jewelers’ loupe. Then if the gems weren’t genuine, I could wring Shane’s neck.
“When do I get the ring?” I heard myself say.
“I can bring it over now, or, or, I can give it to you when you arrive.” He hesitated, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Probably safer if we wait until you get here. I swear, Goldy. If I don’t give it to you the second you walk in the door, you can dump the food in Cottonwood Creek. It runs right past our house.” Before I could reply, he said, “Hey, that prime rib sounds
And then the slimeball hung up.
What would happen to the women’s nest eggs if Shane’s business failed again? Would they be offered emerald necklaces? In these situations, I always tried to think of what Tom, my wise husband, would say.
I checked our larder, fixed myself another coffee, and began to type.
