“Is Tegan concerned about Mother buying another bed-and-breakfast because she’s afraid the place is haunted?”
“Hardly. She’s worried your mother will be in over her head. Where will she find another gem like Helga? Not to mention managing two places can be daunting.”
“Tegan should give it a rest,” Vanna said. “Mother is capable. At worst, she’ll hire an assistant manager.”
“She intends to manage both herself.”
Vanna scoffed. “Ha! She’ll learn soon enough she can’t do that. What if a fire needs to be doused at one while the pipes burst at the other?”
What dire scenarios,I mused but said, “Tegan feels the same.”
Vanna wagged her head. “I’ll have a chat with Mother. Hiring a second-in-command is vital.”
I coughed, knowing her advice would fall on deaf ears, like Tegan’s had. Noeline’s mind was made up. And she, like her daughters, could be mighty stubborn. “FYI, Patrick took full blame for the bookshelf mishap. He was talking about caving and bats and began moaning like a ghost whenblam”—I clapped my hands—“the thing fell. The timing of it was eerie.”
“Patrick,” Vanna said dismissively as she prepared a cookie sheet for the crinkles. “It’s inappropriate for him to be working at the inn when he’s obviously interested in Tegan.”
I tilted my head. “Why is that inappropriate?”
“Because he’ll drag the work out so he can catch glimpses of her and, therefore, overcharge Mother for his services.”
“He won’t. After all, he could go to the bookstore to see Tegan. Better yet, he could ask her out.”
“Would she say yes?”
“I’m not sure.” I smiled, remembering how comfortable Patrick had looked holding her in his arms. Though she’d been trembling, she hadn’t seemed to mind his embrace. On the other hand, he was still on my suspect list, and pairing my best friend with a murderer was not the best idea. “I wouldn’t worry about him price gouging your mother. He was working steadily both times I saw him today, and his business profile on Yelp has earned rave reviews.”
I eyed the laptop computer, still open, with my deep-dive notes scrawled on it.
Vanna peeked in that direction. “Oho, what’s this?” She scanned my suspect list. “Do you really think Patrick is the killer?”
“It’s all conjecture.”
“If he is, he’d better not date my sister.”
“Noted.” I appreciated her taking Tegan’s side.
“You know, he has a sketchy past.”
“Really?” My ears perked up.
“Back in high school, he made all sorts of prank calls to a girl he was hot for. She was scared out of her wits.”
“You were in school together?”
“He was a senior. I was a freshman.”
“You knew what he did, yet you were interested in him at one time?”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “I reasoned he was a kid then. Kids make mistakes. But let’s face it. I was attracted because he’s a hunk with a thriving business.” She wrinkled her nose. “However, the raw-food omnivore thing really does turn my stomach.”
Using a two-tablespoon scooper, she plunked twelve mounds of crinkle dough onto the cookie sheet, placed the sheet into the oven, and set a timer.
As she busied herself, I couldn’t help recalling how Jason had taunted Patrick.Memories of one’s mistakes rarely fade.A mistake sounded way worse than a prank. What else might Patrick have done as a child? Bullied someone? Cheated on an exam? Harmed an animal, heaven forbid? And how had Jason learned of it when I couldn’t dredge it up on the Internet? Jason was a few years older than Patrick. I doubted the two had known each other as boys.
“As for Reika,” Vanna said, reviewing my notes, “she’s a gem. Surely, she’s not the killer.”
I told her about the dog and the scream and Reika hedging about her alibi.