Double Shot

cream. To the unlucky few who were allergic to strawberries, we offered large bowls of ice cream.

When the last speech was done and the partygoers were heading toward their cars, Nan Watkins came over to thank me. Holly Kerr, patting her wiry gray hair, accompanied her. They were both beaming.

“That was splendid,” Holly enthused. She’d clearly recovered from the committee breakfast, which relieved me. “How could you do three magnificent events in one week? You are a marvel.”

“Really superb,” Nan echoed. The dark eyes in her round chipmunk face had become brightened by several glasses of wine. “I’m going to be walking off this food for the rest of the summer. It was great.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” I replied.

Nan’s voice cracked. “To see so many people, to have such lovely food, to have your staff serve so smoothly…it’s just, well…how can I thank you?”

Lucky for me, I didn’t believe in rhetorical questions. I said, “Well, would you look at something for me?”

Nan, taken aback, said that of course she would. I was not prepared, however, for Holly to follow her into the Roundhouse dining room. I made the split-second decision to open up the photo album anyway. It was Holly’s album, in any event. The three of us walked to the wooden table holding the book of photos.

“See this picture of Talitha Vikarios?” I asked innocently. “From the old days?” With my free hand, I pointed to the candy striper holding Arch. “Did she have any dealings with John Richard?” I asked. “Did she have a negative encounter with my ex-husband?” If so, I was thinking, could that explain the fight that the Jerk and Ted had outside the Roundhouse Tuesday afternoon?

“Don’t!” exclaimed Holly Kerr. To my surprise, she whirled and walked away so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to say anything. What was going on here? She was the one who’d given me these photos. Then again, maybe the rumor Marla had heard, about Talitha being involved with Albert Kerr, was true.

“What was that about?” I asked Nan as I watched Holly rush to her car. I turned back to Nan, whose face was studiously blank. “Nan? What is it?”

“I really shouldn’t—”

Okay, now I was getting upset. “Can’t you please help me figure out who killed John Richard? So I can get out of being a suspect?”

“Talitha Vikarios is dead.” Nan’s voice was matter-of-fact. “She was killed in a car accident in Utah last month.” Nan clamped her chipmunk mouth shut; her eyes darted in all directions. She either wanted someone to rescue her, or she wanted to make sure no one was listening to us. She said, “The Vikarioses have suffered so much. Ginger still can’t stop crying.”

“I know. I saw her weeping in her car,” I replied. “But I’m suffering, too. Did my ex-husband hurt this young woman? Did he have an affair with her and dump her?”

Nan’s expression turned sad. “Oh, Goldy. I don’t want to revisit the Talitha mess. I don’t want Ginger and Ted to suffer.”

“Nan,” I said. “Could you just please tell me Talitha’s history?”

Nan’s small eyes got a faraway look. “Tal, that’s what we called her. Rhymes with Al. She…left the hospital and virtually disappeared. Her parents said she was doing missionary work as a field nurse, but really, they had no idea where she’d gone. I used to correspond with her, in secret.” Nan’s small red tongue darted out to lick her lips. “Tal…was pregnant with Albert Kerr’s child. The Kerrs had already left for England, and Tal had resolved not to make trouble for them.” Nan sighed. “But when the Denver newspapers discovered Talitha and her son, she did tell her parents about Albert Kerr. Ginger and Ted contacted Albert and Holly, of course. A lot of people said they had a long-distance falling-out, but I don’t know how true that is. And then Albert got cancer, so…”

“Did Albert admit fathering the child?”

Nan looked suddenly weary. “I don’t know. But all of a sudden, Ted and Ginger Vikarios had money again. They moved from Colorado Springs back to Aspen Meadow this year. They bought a condo, they bought an SUV, they began eating out in new clothes, and they became members of the country club. And most weirdly, they were all reconciled. The Kerrs and Vikarioses became friends again.”

“Friends? After the Vikarios Victory over Sin empire had been ruined?”

Nan shrugged her rounded shoulders. “If it looks like a payoff and smells like a payoff, maybe it is a payoff.”

“A payoff—” I began, but was interrupted.

Liz and Julian had walked up to us and now stood side by side at one of the dining-room tables. They both looked extremely uncomfortable.

I turned my attention away from Nan. “What? The tent’s coming loose from its moorings?”

Liz and Julian looked at each other, as if each was afraid to tell me the news. Liz pressed her lips together and stared at the ground. Julian blinked. Nan, suddenly curious, seemed to enjoy my being in suspense.

I flipped the photo album closed. Tears stung my eyes as I faced Julian. “Something’s happened to Arch?”

“No, boss.” he replied, his voice quiet. “Just…don’t worry about cleaning up from the picnic. Liz and I can do it.” He cleared his throat. “The problem is that—”

But he was spared being the bearer of news. From the corner of my eye, I caught Detective Blackridge entering the dining room. My skin went colder than the inside of our freezer.

“What the hell—” I began.

“Mrs. Schulz?” asked Blackridge as he walked up. “You need to come with me.”

17

I glared at him. The detective didn’t back down. I said, “Forget it.”

“Mrs. Schulz, please.” Was that a hint of entreaty in Blackridge’s voice?

I turned to Julian. “Where’s Tom?”

“We don’t need Investigator Schulz,” Blackridge interjected. “Just you.”

I gave him as scathing a look as a woman scared out of her wits could summon on short notice. Nan, meanwhile, scuttled off. I turned back to my assistants. To Julian, I said in a low voice, “Could you please find Tom and tell him I need him?”

Julian nodded and took off in the direction of the kitchen. I addressed Liz. “Would you be willing to call Brewster Motley? He’s my attorney, and he’s in the phone book. If at all possible, I need him to meet me down at the sheriff’s department.”

“I’m not taking you to the department.” Blackridge again.

“You’re not taking me anywhere.”

Liz took my cold hand in her warm one. “Goldy. He says he’s not here to arrest you. He just needs to talk to you.”

Perspiration trickled inside my uniform. “I don’t think so.” Unfortunately, I knew all about how cops were allowed to deceive suspects to get the truth out of them. And of course I applauded the practice when law enforcement was dealing with a real criminal. But this was not one of those times.

“Let Julian and me clean up here. Please, Goldy, it’s okay.”

“Thanks, Liz, but it is not okay. Not two times in one week.” I turned to Blackridge. “If you just want to have a conversation, what’s wrong with the telephone?”

Blackridge closed his eyes. Then he rubbed his forehead and let out a huge sigh. Women! Finally he said, “Should we start over here?”

“Thank you, but I don’t want to.” If I was trying to teach Arch to be more polite, I needed to set the same standard for myself, right? And I recognized, belatedly, that I hadn’t been exactly civil to this detective. On the other hand, we had a history, and not a happy one. “Sorry, but I need to finish up here, and I have my family to take care of.”

Blackridge turned abruptly as Tom strode into the dining room. I could sense the difference in Blackridge immediately: a deferential attitude, and something like relief. And did I see in my husband’s rapid walk, lifted chin, and commanding presence a hint of his old confident-investigator self? Relief surged through me, too.

“Schulz,” Blackridge said under his breath. He moved off to confer with Tom, out of earshot.

My cell phone chirped. “Mom?” The connection was weak, and I could barely make out Arch’s crackly voice.