Chapter 2

Chapter

Two

S tay here and call 911,” Dante said as he hurried toward where Debra stood. She’d turned when she heard us come into the room, now she was pointing at the man.

“He’s dead. I think he’s dead. This is unreal. I mean, I’ve written about it many times, but I’ve never seen anyone,” Debra's eyes widened again as she looked at Cat and repeated. “I think he’s dead.”

Ignoring Dante’s instructions, Cat dialed 911 as she went over to get Debra away from whatever was happening. She hoped the woman wasn’t going into shock. As she took Debra’s arm, the operator picked up the call.

“911, what’s your emergency?” a calm female voice asked.

“There’s been an accident at Dante Cornelio’s house. A man is lying on the floor in the solarium.” Cat stepped closer and saw Allen Johnson staring up at the ceiling. A pool of blood seeped into the cobblestones around him. That was going to be hard to get out. Cat shook away the image and the comment. “It’s Allen Johnson and I think he’s dead. His eyes, well, you know.”

“An EMT unit and the police have been sent to that address,” the dispatcher said, her voice softening. “Did anyone see what happened?”

As Cat explained the situation, she led a shaking Debra from the room. Dante’s security team ran inside. Soon, Dante met her in the hallway. She was still on the line with 911 as they’d asked her not to hang up.

He took her phone. “When will the EMTs arrive?”

Dante met Cat’s gaze and pointed to a room off the side of the hallway. Cat led Debra inside. There was a couch and before she knew it, a woman with a tray with coffee and a plate full of desserts came inside the room.

“I brought coffee and some sugar, but, please, let me now if there is anything else you need,” the woman asked. She was dressed in a black suit and had her hair pulled back. Cat had seen her before at the house. She ran the house for Dante. She’d been the one to plan the party and manage the staff.

Cat took a cup and focused on Debra. “Do you want sugar or cream?”

Debra blinked. “You’re asking how I want my coffee? I just found a dead guy.”

“And that’s why I’m asking. You need to focus on something else. Like these macaroons,” Cat pointed to the plate. Then she put both cream and sugar into the coffee. Debra needed something to eat up the adrenaline she was feeling, or she’d crash soon.

“Thanks,” Debra took the cup and took a long sip. “I didn’t eat at the airport and then I missed the food trays. I got a lot of beautiful pictures before I came into the greenhouse. I can’t believe he’s dead,” She blanched at the memory and then turned to Cat. “He is dead, right?”

“Yes,” Cat wondered if Debra was starting to go into shock. “Eat a cookie. I hear that your blood sugar tanks when you see something disturbing.”

“Oh, I hadn’t heard that,” Debra grabbed a cookie and ate it, then another. “I should add that to my next story. After I verify it, of course.”

The woman was starving. Maybe Shauna had something at the house to feed her. Cat texted her uncle that she was taking Debra back to the house if he wanted to question her. Instead of a text, Uncle Pete walked into the room where they were sitting.

“Dante told me what happened and where to find you,” he squatted down and met Debra’s gaze. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. Was the body that way when you walked into the room?”

She nodded, staring into her cup. “I had my camera and was taking pictures of the way the conservatory was built. They don’t add these things to houses anymore. I stumbled on something and looked down. I had hit his foot.”

Cat watched as Debra shuddered and closed her eyes. Cat met Uncle Pete’s gaze and silently asked to leave with Debra. He nodded, but then he asked one more question. “Miss, did you hear anything when you first entered the conservatory?”

Debra opened her eyes, and it was clear she was trying to remember that moment. “I could hear the music from the party. It seeped into every room I visited, especially on the first floor. Then, wait, I heard voices to my left. Away from the party. Men, maybe? I just heard murmurings and thought I was going to be asked to return to the party. So I hurried inside to get my photos.”

“That’s good. So you could hear at least two different male voices?” Uncle Pete asked.

She nodded, and then responded, “I think so.”

“Did you hear what they were saying? Were they arguing or loud?”

Debra shook her head. “No. They were just talking. Like I said, I thought they were security and were going to ask me to return to the party. They’ve been watching me pretty closely as I walked through the house.”

“Thank you. I’ll come by the retreat tomorrow and get your formal statement, but this is good. You’ve helped me a lot.” He stood and nodded at Cat. “Are you walking back to the house?”

She stood and motioned him to follow her into the hallway. “If she can make it. She hasn’t eaten all day. I just texted Shauna and asked her to start some soup for her.”

“Shock should wear off soon. If she’s not feeling better tomorrow after she eats and gets some sleep, run her over to the clinic.” He glanced toward the solarium. “I can’t believe you get yourself into these messes.”

“You and I both know that Dante didn’t take that money. Allen Johnson was the most likely culprit. But now he’s dead. Do you know how?” Cat asked as she followed his gaze.

Uncle Pete nodded, then smiled as he tapped the badge on his chest. “I do and guess what? I’m the professional here. Go do your writer workshop and stay out of my murder investigation.”

As the women waited for someone to retrieve their coats, Cat poked her head into the ballroom where the party had been held. The writers were gone from their table. Hopefully, they’d headed back to the house, but they could have gone to one of the bars that catered to the college crowd instead. She’d find out when she got back to the house. They were adults and not her problem right now.

She knew one thing though, something Uncle Pete hadn’t meant to tell her. A suspect with an undisclosed weapon had murdered Allen Johnson in the solarium. Her game of Clue had just started.

The internet reviews didn’t call Cat’s writers retreat Murder Central for nothing. She just wished the monthly session was known more for the quality of the retreat itself, not just for the likelihood a murder might happen in town while the retreat was running.

When they arrived home, Shauna took charge of Debra. She wrapped her in a blanket after taking off her coat and took her to her room. “I’ve got a bath run for you and a tray with hot soup and tea. And some fresh biscuits I’d just made for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Debra muttered as she let Shauna lead her away.

“Oh, it’s not a bother,” Shauna glanced back at Cat. “Are you going to be in the kitchen when I get back?”

“Yes. I’m going to run up and change out of this dress and into sweats. I’ll be down for some hot cocoa in a few minutes.” Cat slowly followed Shauna and Debra on the stairs, then hurried up to the third floor and her room. Slipping out of the dress, she hung it up in her closet, hoping it hadn’t been damaged or worse, she’d gotten blood on it. She grabbed yoga pants, and an oversized Denver Bronco sweatshirt, and then pulled on fuzzy socks. She quickly cleaned the makeup off her face, putting her curly brown hair up into a clip. She looked at the woman in the mirror. She’d transformed herself back into everyday Cat. The author and retreat host. She often dressed up for events and looked amazing, but this was the real Cat Latimer. And it was good to be comfortable again.

Cat was in the kitchen making hot cocoa when Shauna came downstairs. “How is she?”

“A little better. She wanted to talk a bit and asked me to turn the television onto a station with those home improvement shows. She was going to eat, take a bath, then crawl into bed. She flew in from Boston this morning.” Shauna got two cups down, then bumped her hip on Cat’s. “Go sit down. I know you must be tired from all the hobnobbing with the fancy college crowd.”

“I always hated department parties. Even when I was one of them and married to Michael. They all think they know everything. Besides, they treated me more like a wife than a colleague,” she sank into a chair by the table, pulling her foot up on the chair. Groaning, she remembered Maggie. “Don’t hate me, but I need to tell you something. We’ll have one more student this week. Maggie Martin, the wife of Covington’s president wants to write a book.”

“That’s fine,” Shauna said as she poured the hot chocolate into the cups. She got out the dispenser and filled the rest of the cup with homemade whipped cream. “When is she checking in? Tomorrow or Monday.”

“Tomorrow. I figured you’d be mad since we had everything set for six writers,” Cat took the cup Shauna brought over and took a sip. “This is so good. And just what I needed, it’s cold out there.”

“Cat, we could have ten to fifteen writers every month. We’re set up for them now that Seth has finished the writer rooms in the east wing. We don’t have to limit our enrollment.” She sipped her cocoa. “How was Dante? Is he still worried about this embezzlement?”

“He thought the guy taking the money was Allen Johnson. The guy Debra found dead. Thank goodness she’s not local or Uncle Pete would be looking harder at her. You know they always suspect the one who finds the body.” Cat held the cup in both hands, trying to warm up.

“Which is why I have a strict policy not to find dead bodies anywhere,” Shauna smiled but then dropped her gaze. “Is Seth okay?”

“Is he over being mad that I agreed to help Dante find the guy who’s framing him? Not really. I think it’s going to be a chilly week around here between us. I hope it doesn’t affect the writers.” Seth Howard was or had been Cat’s high school sweetheart, friend, boyfriend, and, at one time, fiancé. She wasn’t sure what to call him right now, but he was part of the retreat team, picking up and dropping off the writers at the Denver airport along with a lot of other jobs. Including keeping the different parts of the old Victorian house working smoothly.

Just then, Sam, Seth’s mixed-breed dog ran into the room. Sam looked like he had Pom blood in his bloodline but he was almost fifteen pounds. He jumped on Cat’s legs, asking to be picked up. She obliged. It was always better to follow his orders before he started barking.

Seth followed him in, then stopped at the edge of the kitchen. “Sorry, I thought no one was here.”

“You mean you thought I wasn’t here,” Cat mumbled. Seth’s eyes met hers for a second. “We’re talking about the murder.”

Now he looked interested. “What are you talking about? A murder? Here? Don’t tell me something happened at Dante’s house during the party.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you,” Cat teased, then went on to tell him about Debra finding Allen Johnson while he fixed a sandwich and poured himself a cup of cocoa.

“Wow, Allen. He and his wife hired me last year to build an addition to their house. A new primary suite with all the bells and whistles. It even has a steam shower and jacuzzi tub. His wife is going to be heartbroken. She’s a tradwife with three kids she homeschools. Before they moved here, she taught law at Columbia.” He saw both Cat and Shauna staring at him as he brought the food over to the table. “What? She was bored and wanted to talk. So she’d come in and watch me work during the day.”

Everyone loved to chat with Seth. He was just that kind of guy, friendly and approachable. Cat, on the other hand, stayed in her office writing most of the day. It suited her personality. Except for the retreat weeks. She should have told Maggie that she kept the retreat numbers down because it freaked her out to be around a lot of people. All the time. But she worried more about it before, then when the retreat was happening, she liked getting to know the other writers.

Cat had to face facts. She was a goofball.

“I take it Pete will be showing up tomorrow for breakfast,” Shauna glanced at her watch. “Or I should say brunch. We won’t be serving until ten tomorrow since it’s Sunday.”

“I’ll text him and let him know,” Cat grabbed her phone and sent her uncle a message. He was usually here for Sunday dinner. It had become a weekly tradition for the four of them. Five if Shirley, Uncle Pete’s girlfriend from Alaska, was in town. Except for the Sunday before retreat week.

Writers came in on either Saturday or Sunday, depending on if there was a pre-writing event like the party tonight or sometimes Seth liked to take the group hiking or skiing. Cat scrubbed at her face. Lately, all too often, the pre-retreat activity resulted in murder.

She looked at Shauna and Seth. “We’re just unlucky, right?”

“What on earth are you talking about? Luck is when opportunity and hard work meet. I think we’re doing amazing things with the retreat. It’s feeding the three of us and I’ve been able to pop away more into my retirement travel fund for when I start roaming the world.” Shauna took her cup to the sink and rinsed it. “I think you’re tired.”

“She’s talking about the murders and how they seem to occur around the retreats,” Seth set down his sandwich. “Cat, there’s nothing you can do to keep people from killing each other. Besides, this one I blame on Dante. He was so sure that having all those bigwigs from the college over tonight would help you guys ferret out the embezzler. I think he’s been watching too many television shows where the crime is solved in an hour.”

Shauna giggled. “Maybe he thought that the bad guy would just raise his hand and announce, ‘I feel so guilty about trying to frame you after this lovely party.’”

Cat tried to suppress her smile. Dante had been a little na?ve about finding the guy. “Well, now his best suspect is dead, in his solarium. Whoever is doing this frame job, they’re really good.”

“So Dante killed Allen in the conservatory with the lead pipe?” Seth snapped his fingers at Sam who was now sleeping by the backdoor. “We’re living a real-life game of Clue.”

“That’s what I said,” Cat followed them out of the kitchen and into the hallway. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Seth looked at her, then nodded and headed into the door to the east wing and his apartment. It was supposed to be their apartment, but they were just getting back on track in their relationship after Seth had been hurt in an out-of-country contractor job. His military skills had been in high demand and the money was great. But Cat had worried constantly when he was gone. And they’d fought about his taking the job right before he left.

Now that he was back and healing from his physical and mental scars, there still was a wall between them.

She realized she was standing staring at the apartment door when Shauna put her hand on Cat’s shoulder.

“He’ll be back to normal soon. Just give him some time,” Shauna repeated the words she’d said often since Seth returned.

Cat turned and walked up the stairs with her friend. She only hoped Shauna was right.