Scone Cold Dead (16 page)

“No way in hell. And incidentally, I don't appreciate being serenaded on the bagpipes at three o'clock in the morning.”

He turned his back on her to refill his coffee mug from the big pot on the counter. No one else in the house was stirring yet, but he'd been up at least an hour. From her bedroom window, Liss had seen his light go on.

“You did put Stewart in the room my dad soundproofed, right?” He'd done that so he could practice his piping indoors.

Dan glowered at her over the rim of his bright blue ceramic mug. “You mean the bedroom right next to
mine
? Trust me when I say sound-
proof
is a misnomer.”

“I did have another thought. About the rehearsal hall?”

“I'm not going to like this one, either, am I?”

“Depends. There are two or three spaces big enough at The Spruces.”

“The hotel isn't open yet.” He set his coffee mug on the counter with a thump.

She ignored the display of temper. “So? Your father owns it. Owns most of it, anyway.” He had a few investors, including her aunt. “He could give permission. I could get everyone to sign waivers saying they won't sue if they are injured on the premises. Come on, Dan. We need to rehearse.”

“We?”

“They.
They
need to rehearse. The lobby's big enough if you don't want them in the unfinished portions of the hotel. And isn't there a ballroom upstairs?”

“The ballroom's where we're working now.”

The mulish look on his face wasn't encouraging, and she'd already taken advantage of his good nature something shameful, but he was an old softy at heart. She wasn't surprised when he relented.

“Dining room's pretty near finished, and empty. I guess they could use that.”

She flung herself at him and gave him a hug. “Oh, thank you. I knew you'd help.”

“Wait a second.” His arms came around her when she tried to pull away. “There's a price.” When he lowered his mouth to hers to exact it, Liss paid up willingly. With interest.

“Are we good?” she murmured when he finally released her. Even her toes were tingling.

“We're good. I'll call Dad and let you know when you can bring in the troops.”

“Troupe,” she corrected him, and smiled when he winced.

Chapter Eleven

I
t took several hours to arrange, but early that afternoon Liss led the dancers from
Strathspey,
minus Fiona, who was running late and would drive herself out later, into the newly renovated dining room at The Spruces. Dan trailed along behind, looking unhappy.

From what he'd told Liss, his father had OK'd using the room. He'd even approved turning up the thermostat. Installing a heating system had been one of the first things the Ruskins had done after buying the old hotel, right after rewiring the place. But Joe Ruskin had also ordered his son to stick around and keep an eye on things while the dancers were at The Spruces. Dan would be attending every rehearsal.

“Where's the bar?” Stewart demanded.

Dan gave him such an incredulous look that Liss had trouble stifling a laugh. “That time the pun was unintentional,” she whispered. “He means a
practice
bar.”

“He wants to practice his drinking?”

Liss punched him in the arm. “Dancers do pliés and stretching exercises using a rail attached to the wall at about waist level. And you
knew
that. I can tell by the twinkle in your eyes.”

“Twinkle or not, they'll have to manage without a bar. I'm not nailing anything up to this paneling. It cost an arm and a leg and a lot of time and effort to restore it to the way it looked in the 1890s.”

“No bar,” Liss called to Stewart. “And don't go getting handprints on the walls. Make do with floor exercises.”

There was general grumbling, but soon they were all bending and stretching and into their individual warm-up routines. Ray appeared in the doorway of the bright, airy room with the recorded music they used for most of the show and the equipment he needed to play it on. There was no sound system in the dining room, but he was an old hand at improvising.

“You should put in speakers, y'know? People like to hear music playing while they eat.”

“I'll think about it.” Dan sounded distracted.

Liss followed his gaze to the other side of the room. Emily Townsend had stripped down to a leotard and tights, revealing a lithe but shapely body. Her
Strathspey
costume did not show off her bosom to the same advantage as spandex did.

“Earth to Dan.”

“Huh?”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that you're letting them use this room. They need to rehearse together on some numbers to stay in peak condition and ensure the quality of performances to come. A dancer can only do so much in the space created by shoving motel furniture back against the wall.”

“Not a problem.”

“So why are you gritting your teeth?”

“Great place, man!” Jock O'Brien slapped Dan on the back, catching him by surprise. “Are the bedrooms ritzy, too?”

“They'll be comfortable.”

Charlie Danielstone was right behind his roommate. “When does the place open?”

“Fourth of July weekend.”

“Hey, that's not so far off. You must be almost done fixing the place up, huh? Can we take a look around?”

“There's a lot of construction still going on—”

“Hey, we signed the release.” Charlie gave him a cheeky grin.

“Cut it out, guys.” Liss introduced them, since Dan had only glimpsed them at the refreshment table at the reception and hadn't had occasion to meet them at the motel.

“So, daily rehearsals as long as we're here?” Jock asked.

“That's the deal,” Liss told him, “as long as you behave yourselves.”

“Aw, come on. Just a peek at one of the rooms?”

“Not much to see,” Dan told him. “They're all empty. Walls and floors and windows are done. Plumbing's in. But there's no furniture. No curtains yet, either.”

“What parts of the hotel are you still working on?” Charlie asked.

“Ballroom. Hallways—they need to be carpeted. Kitchen. Laundry room.”

“Will you be finished in time?” Liss hadn't thought to ask till now. She'd been too busy with the Emporium to focus on the hotel, and it wasn't Dan's primary project, either. He was far more likely to talk about his plans to one day make a living from the sale of his custom-made furniture.

A blast of music, turned up way too loud, made Liss jump.

“Nice form!” Cal hollered from the other side of the room.

Ray turned down the sound. “Ready when you are,” he called to the dancers.

“Fiona's not here yet,” Stewart yelled back. “We're short a dancer for the reel.”

Jock and Charlie exchanged mischievous glances. Charlie grabbed Liss's hand. “No, we're not!” he shouted, and tugged her toward the middle of the room.

Before Liss fully realized what was happening, her feet had fallen into the familiar steps of a Scottish country dance. The music was “Speed the Plough,” a reel that dated back to 1800. When Charlie handed her off to Cal, it felt just like old times.

“Look at her strut her stuff,” Sandy teased as they passed each other in the pattern of the dance.

She laughed in sheer delight. And she made it all the way to the end of the piece before, just as the music stopped, her weak knee decided to buckle. If Cal hadn't been standing right beside her, she'd have fallen flat on her face.

“And that's why I'm retired,” she muttered, more as a reminder to herself than to inform the others.

“Sorry, Liss.” Charlie's crooked grin didn't look particularly contrite, but then he'd never had knee surgery.

“You okay?” Sandy started in her direction but she waved him off.

“I don't think I've done any serious damage.” But she would not be so foolish as to try to dance with the pros again. When rehearsal resumed, Liss joined Dan near the door.

He watched her approach with worried eyes. “You're limping.”

“No kidding. Come on. No need for either of us to be here.”

He sent a doubtful look in Stewart's direction.

“You'll just have to trust them not to damage anything.” Liss led him out of the dining room just as the music blared again, though not as loudly as before. After the first few steps, her stride returned to normal. “I've got to get back to the Emporium. I left Lee Annie in charge, since she doesn't have to rehearse with the dancers, but I don't want to take advantage of her good nature. You can go and do whatever you would be doing if they weren't here.”

“I'd be at the other construction site, but Dad was right. We can't leave the asylum in the inmates' control. I'll be in the building until they all leave for the day. Every day.” He sounded grimly determined.

They had reached the lobby, the first part of the hotel's interior to be renovated. Liss knew that Dan had restored the huge check-in desk himself, as well as the wall full of old-fashioned cubbyholes behind it. When The Spruces reopened, they would once again hold guests' keys and messages.

The remaining space was equally impressive. Pillars divided the lobby and would give the illusion of privacy when sofas and chairs were strategically placed between them. Liss had heard her aunt and Joe Ruskin talk of their plans so many times that she had no difficulty visualizing what the place would look like furnished. There would be plush area rugs atop the gleaming hardwood floors in the seating areas. Ornate brass firedogs would grace the hearth of the big Victorian fireplace with its intricately carved mantel and the even more elaborately decorated mirror above.

It was a labor of love. Liss got that. She understood why Dan and his father were nervous about turning over even a small portion of it to an unruly group like the
Strathspey
dancers. She wanted to reassure him, tell him they were housebroken, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't breathe easily again until they'd left the building.

“Try not to fret,” she said instead.

Dan didn't appear to hear her. He was staring out the window. “Your friend the cop just parked next to the bus.”

“Sherri?” Liss glanced at her watch. It wasn't even close to three. Sherri should still be at work.

“No, not Sherri. Detective Tandy.”

“Oh dear. I suppose he tracked the troupe here.”

But when Gordon Tandy came through the door he seemed surprised to find Liss in the lobby, and puzzled by the fact that the bus was parked outside. Liss quickly explained that the dancers were rehearsing.

“Did you want to talk to someone in particular?” she asked.

“Yes, but not one of them.” He jerked his head toward Dan. “I need to speak with Ruskin here.”

When he didn't say any more, Liss remembered what Sherri had told them the previous night. It dawned on her that Gordon Tandy was still checking up on her. He wanted to ask Dan about her movements on the day of the murder!

“I've got to get back to the store,” she said stiffly, and left.

 

 

Downtown Moosetookalook was a five-minute drive from The Spruces. Fiona's rental car was still parked in front of the Emporium. Liss couldn't imagine what the holdup was. Fiona was extremely punctual as a rule, especially when it came to rehearsals.

Inside, Liss found Lee Annie Neville happily trying on necklaces and earrings from the shipment that had just come in from Pitlochry, Scotland. They were made using the stems of Scottish heather compressed into blocks and cut into individual pieces. Set with silver and pewter fittings in Celtic designs, the “gems” were surprisingly attractive.

“Back in a minute,” she called, tossing her coat in the general direction of the rack beside the door. She took the stairs to her aunt's apartment two at a time.

“Fiona?” She rapped on the door of Aunt Margaret's room and opened it without waiting to be invited in.

Fiona stood by the window, a cell phone to her ear. She held up a finger to indicate Liss should wait a minute and completed her conversation. “Problem?” she asked, sliding the phone into a pocket.

“Only that you're running very late.”

“I've got one more call to make, and then I'll head out to the hotel. With Victor gone, I'm the one who has to handle all the arrangements.”

“Of course. I'll leave you to it.” Liss retreated but stood outside the door a moment longer. Did Fiona mean she was canceling more performances? Liss hoped not.

It was quiet in the apartment, so quiet that she could hear Fiona speaking on the phone. Liss didn't intend to eavesdrop, but when she caught the word “passport” she lingered in the hallway.

Most of the conversation was muffled. She heard a reference to Canada and wondered if Fiona might be trying to get international bookings. There were certainly plenty of people of Scottish descent in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, and neither province was far from Moosetookalook. Along with Quebec, New Brunswick shared a border with Maine.

Fiona's “Thank you. Good-bye” sent Liss scurrying away. She entered the living room just as Winona came in from the kitchen carrying a cup of tea.

“Liss—join me?” She settled in on the sofa, looking right at home.

Her long black hair, liberally streaked with white, had been braided and then wound in a knot at the back of her head. She wore leggings with a tunic top, both in a burnt umber shade. It was a favorite outfit, chosen for comfort and frequently worn on the road. All that was missing was its usual accessory—a wrist pincushion in the shape of a heart and bristling with straight pins, safety pins of every size, and needles prethreaded in a rainbow of colors.

“I'm good, Winona. And I need to spell Lee Annie. Is there anything you need?”

“Not a thing, sweetie. It's splendid being here instead of in a motel. Even better than the B-and-B.”

“Well, good.” One thing Liss had always liked about Winona was her ability to look on the bright side of things. It was a knack Fiona had shared until just lately, which made Liss wonder if Winona's cheerful facade might also be wearing a bit thin. “Ah, Winona? Have you thought any more about what I asked you the other day? About members of the company who might have wished Victor ill?”

Winona stared down into the steaming mug of tea between her hands, avoiding Liss's eyes.

“Winona? It doesn't help to hold back. We have to find out who did this terrible thing so we can all move on.”

“I just don't like to speak ill of anyone, not even the dead.”

“Victor wasn't the nicest guy in the world.”

“No. He wasn't. And he was particularly nasty to poor Sarah Bartlett. I was sorry to see her go. I liked her.”

“So did Ray, apparently.”

Winona smiled. “Yes. Thick as thieves, they were at times, although she was closer, I think, to some of the other girls. I thought for a while he might leave the company, too, after she left. But the last time I saw them together it looked as if they'd disagreed about something. She turned her back on him and stalked off and that was that.”

“The last time they were together?” Liss frowned, trying to recall what Dan had told her Ray had said. “Together” didn't strike her as the right word. “Just when was that, Winona?”

The older woman frowned, her snub nose wrinkling. “I'm not sure. Maybe two or three weeks after Emily replaced her. I can't remember where we were. You know how the towns all run together when you're on tour.”

“But it was after she left the company?”

“Oh yes. I know I had the uncharitable thought that Sarah was so much more pleasant than Emily Townsend. It would have been nice if she could have come back, but of course that was impossible even before she and Ray fell out. Because of Victor. Sure you wouldn't like a cup of tea, dear?”