Caught dead to write, p.4
Caught Dead to Write, page 4
“Did they have any alerts last night?”
Shauna shook her head. “Not that they told me.”
Uncle Pete stood, draining his coffee cup as he did. He set it down and looked at the three of them. “Okay then, just stay out of the barn until my guys leave. I know you’ll need to feed tonight, so they’ll be out before four.”
“Sounds good.” Seth stood and walked Pete to the door. “Anything we should do?”
“Just go about your normal routine. And don’t tell your guests about the murder. Not until I can clear everyone from the house off the suspect list.”
A strangled noise came from the kitchen door. Pixie stood there, carafe in her hand, her eyes wide. “Sorry, the coffee is all gone. Did you say there was a murder?”
After an impromptu meeting with the writers to let them know about the murder in the barn, Cat was wiped out. She refilled her cup from the dining room carafe and looked around the room. The only one who wasn’t here was Dalton. Cat assumed he’d hear about the murder from the college grapevine but if he hadn’t, she’d have to go through this all again. Not the best way to start a writers’ retreat.
Deek stood from where he’d been sitting by Pixie and came to refill his own cup. Instead of sitting back down, he stood close to Cat. “Don’t blame yourself. I may not know you very well, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t murder someone in your own barn right before a big event like this. South Cove has these issues too. Usually, my boss, Jill, she’s all up in the investigation, to the dismay of her dude. He’s the police detective for the town. Murder happens. Sometimes more than we’d like.”
Cat had to stifle a laugh. Did he think she’d kill someone if there wasn’t a big event or somewhere other than her barn? She pushed the thoughts aside and focused on his words. The guy was calm. Announcing that Professor Barring had been found dead had upset Pixy and Cari, but not Deek. He took it as just something that happened. She wasn’t sure what made her more unnerved, his calmness or the women freaking out. “You’re not disturbed at the news?”
“I mean, yes, it’s a bummer that she died. I talked to Stephen a lot since I’ve been here and they were having problems. I mean, as a couple. I don’t mean to say he killed her or anything, but they had a big fight right here at the party. I couldn’t be in a relationship like that. Stephen says she’s always on his case about his job in Denver.” Deek studied his coffee. “I get that some people aren’t meant to be married. My mom and dad were that way. But they divorced when I was a kid. I didn’t have to hear them fighting, much.”
“I’m divorced,” Cat blurted out, surprising herself. “It wasn’t pretty, but the arguing was short since I just packed and left. He let me think the worst, but he had good reasons. I think marriage is hard in the best circumstances.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” He glanced around the room. “So today we’re just chilling right? Maybe I can take the group on a walk around Aspen Hills? That way they’re doing something and not just thinking about, well, you know.”
“Hey, if you need a guide, I’m your man.” Dalton Diggs came into the dining room with a large duffel bag. “Cool, breakfast is still going. Let me check into my room and grab some grub and we can head out.”
“Thanks, Dalton. Stephen, Shauna will check you in at the front desk.” Cat turned to the women at the table. “Deek had a great idea for the day.”
After explaining the day’s activities and that snacks would be available all day, but they were on their own for the other two meals, Cat left the group alone in the dining room. They all seemed a little less shocked and ready to get on with their retreat.
The front door opened and Stephen Barring walked in with a suitcase. His eyes were bloodshot. Cat wasn’t sure if it was from crying or the drinking. He walked over to her. “I’m still allowed to attend the retreat, right? I paid and have my receipt right here.”
“Yes, of course, but if you wanted to change it, I know we have a strict no refund policy after a certain date, but because of the circumstances…” Cat paused, she was doing this all wrong. She started over. “Stephen, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks. But if it’s okay, I’d rather be here. The house is too quiet.” He nodded to where Shauna and Dalton stood at the front desk. “Do I check in over there?”
After the men had dropped their bags into their rooms, the writers group left. Cat had made an offer for a writing sprint session in the living room starting at seven and they’d all been excited for it. Or at least they were now. Cat thought from the tired look on Pixie’s face, she might just choose to turn in early.
Cat brought the last of the breakfast dishes from the dining room into the kitchen. Seth was eating at the table and Shauna stood at the sink, washing dishes. “Here’s the last of them. I think both Dalton and Stephen ate before they left on the walkabout.”
“I can’t believe that poor man is going to work on writing this week.” Shauna took the dishes from Cat. “If it was me who lost a spouse, I’d be a total mess.”
“If you actually loved them,” Seth added, taking a break from his waffles covered with what smelled and looked like huckleberry sauce. Cat wanted some even though she’d eaten with the writers that morning while she broke the news.
“That’s cold,” Shauna said, then she shrugged. “But you have a point. At least Pete knows where Stephen’s at if he needs to interview him.”
“Yeah, but aren’t there a lot of arrangements to make? Like for the funeral and such?” Cat filled a cup with coffee and sat down, dipping her finger into the pool of syrup on Seth’s plate.
He waved his fork at her. “Stop that. If you want a waffle, get your own. There’s some in the oven.”
“I ate before. I just wanted a taste.” Cat licked the syrup from her finger. “Anyway, do you think his attending makes him look more or less like the killer?”
“He could just not want to be in the house where they had their lives, like he told me.” Shauna shrugged as she dried off her hands with a towel. “It would be hard to be in a house with all her stuff there. Maybe he’s just in denial.”
“If he did kill her, he’s stone cold. Of course, if he didn’t, he seems a little cold about the whole thing too.” Seth took his plate to the sink and washed it, setting it on the rack after rinsing to dry. “I beginning to think Pete’s right about having someone here during retreat days. I’m going to block off my schedule for the full week. I’ve got enough work around here to keep me busy and you guys won’t be alone with the grieving husband-slash- maybe-killer guy.”
“You and Uncle Pete worry too much,” Cat said, but a part of her was glad Seth would be here. No matter what happened between them, she could always count on him. And that was enough for today. “I’m heading upstairs to work. The writers will be back after lunch but we’re not doing anything formal until seven when we’ll be in the living room.”
“Okay, I’ve got sandwich stuff in the fridge for lunch. I was going to ride Snow this afternoon, but it depends on when the barn is released.” Shauna stared out the window toward the barn. “Dinner will be at five. I’ve got a shepherd’s pie ready to put in the oven. Pete might drop in. I know it’s not typical Sunday dinner, but we don’t usually have a big Saturday night party either.”
“Your food is amazing no matter what night it is.” Seth pulled on his coat. “I’m going out to check on the progress at the barn. I’m sure Snow wants to be let out into the pasture by now.”
Cat refilled her coffee and grabbed a couple of cookies. Then she left the kitchen. No matter what happened, they were a team. And she was going to do her best to keep it that way. Their friendship was too precious for her to lose. Especially after the stark reminder they’d gotten that morning about how fleeting life was at times.
Harriet would never have the chance to learn that lesson.
5
As Cat had predicted, Pixie bowed out of the writing sprints. But Dalton, Deek, Stephen, and Cari were all already on their laptops writing when Cat came into the room with her own. She opened the credenza that held all the writing retreat supplies in the living room including paper, pens, and a large digital timer. Then she pulled out a white board. She had added this a few sessions ago to keep a running total of words each participant wrote during retreat week. During sprints, she added the word totals, but each writer was encouraged to add their non-sprint time words for each day as well, to keep a record of the total word count.
“Before we start, we have a poet in our group this week. So, Dalton, if we kept word counts for you, it might make the totals look uneven. Do you want to keep track of your time spent creating rather than words?” Shauna had already set up a grid with everyone’s name on the top, including Cat’s, and the days of the week with two slots. One for sprints, one for daily totals. Cat set out different colored markers for the writers to use.
Dalton closed his laptop. “So, do you have to report anything back to the English department on what I write this week?”
“No. One, what and how much you write is your decision. If you totally blew off the retreat, I’d probably mention it, but you’re here and ready to work. That’s all that matters.” Cat wasn’t sure why Dalton was worried. She’d never had an issue with any of her Covington writers actually participating in the retreat. Of course, there was always the first time.
“Butt in chair time, dude.” Deek grinned at Dalton. “That’s the magic sauce from what I read of successful authors.”
“I don’t mean I won’t be participating or not putting my butt in my chair.” Dalton reached over and tapped Deek on the shoulder with his fist. Cat could see a bromance brewing between the two men. “I just don’t want you telling them what I’m actually working on. I have a rep and a scholarship in poetry.”
“What are you working on, Dalton?” Cari turned to focus on him, apparently curious about his answer.
“I’m writing a thriller with a vampire elite tactical team that’s going after a bad seed.” Dalton’s words came out so fast, Cat had to let it set a minute to let the meaning settle.
“That sounds amazing,” she said after a few seconds when she realized the true meaning of why he didn’t want the college to know. “But you’re afraid some professors won’t think of it as worthy.”
Dalton nodded, his face red. “They can’t know.”
The room was quiet for a minute, then Stephen spoke. “My wife was one of the true believers in literary fiction. If it didn’t meet her definition of art, it wasn’t worth pursuing. I’m sure you’re an excellent poet, Dalton, but you shouldn’t have to hide your other creations, just because you think you’ll be judged on them. You’ll find out in this world what you think about what you do matters a lot more than what anyone else in the world thinks. Even those you care about.”
“Well said, Stephen.” Cat smiled at him, then turned back to the group. “Your secret’s safe with us. You’ll need to let Pixie know not to out you in public, but there will be no report going from the retreat back to the college, except on your participation. And you’re already acing that in my eyes.”
The next morning, Cat woke early and practiced some yoga in her room as she thought about the last few days. The retreat had started out well enough. But then Harriet had kind of crashed the party and then wound up dead in Cat’s barn. She wondered at the significance of changing her clothes from the witch costume she’d worn at the party into the zombie costume she’d been found in the barn wearing. Maybe it was the same costume with some tweaks. Harriet couldn’t have thought she could get away with coming back into the party in a different outfit to spy on her husband, could she? According to Seth, the party had wound down anyway by the time she’d stormed out, so it would have been over when she came back in the new outfit.
As Cat tried to make sense of the murder, nothing fit together, so she cleared her mind and finished off her stretching, only focusing on her breath and the positions she was trying to get her body to make. Shauna had been pushing Cat to at least try yoga and she had to admit, she felt great when she was done. She just felt like an idiot when she was doing it. Especially in the classes that Shauna drug her to with all the young co-eds who could bend in ways Cat didn’t yet.
She pushed away the thoughts about who murdered Evil Harriet and got ready for her day. The first thing she needed to do was a quick breakfast meeting with the writers. She used to do this discussion on Sunday night, but a lot of times, people didn’t know what they wanted out of the retreat. Now, she discussed it on Monday before breakfast and asked the writers to turn in a plan by the end of the day. That way, if she needed to make any changes to the retreat schedule, she could before the week was over.
She stopped by the kitchen to chat with Shauna before she met the writers at eight. “Good morning. You’ll be happy to know I actually practiced yoga poses this morning, just like you taught me.”
“Maybe you should set up a DVR in your room and I could lend you my workouts. That way, you don’t get bored with one routine, and you can challenge yourself.” Shauna came over and sat next to her at the table. “How’d sprinting go last night?”
“Good. We have a thriller writer we weren’t counting on.” Cat broke open a still warm muffin and watched the steam come out until she put a bit of butter into the opening.
“Stephen? Didn’t he write paranormal? I’m trying to remember what Tammy said.” Shauna grabbed a muffin as well, but she didn’t drown it in butter like Cat did.
“High fantasy. Like Lord of the Rings? No, this isn’t Stephen, it’s Dalton. Our poet has a secret vampire novel in progress, but he doesn’t want the college to find out.”
“Seriously? That’s a twist I didn’t see coming. I thought he might be a problem during the retreat, but it sounds like he’ll fit right in with Deek and the others.” Shauna took a bite of the muffin. “There’s not too much cinnamon in these, are there?”
“You’re kidding, right? It tastes like the cinnamon sugar toast I used to make as a kid. Spot on.” She finished the first half of her muffin. “I’m glad he told us. It’s hard to be secretly writing what you are drawn to. That happened to me at first. Michael was mortified I sent my witch young adult to the agent rather than the dry dissertation novel where I’d tried to be so clever with word choices and personal dynamics. That thing is still on my hard drive. I might delete it on my death bed, just to make sure it never gets published.”
“Pete called earlier to apologize for missing Sunday dinner. He said the case was keeping him busy, but he wouldn’t expand. In fact, he laughed when I asked. He said I was hanging out with you too much.” Shauna grinned as she stood to check the contents of the oven, which from the smell, held chocolate chip cookies. “I told him that was a compliment, but you know Pete. He just laughed again.”
Cat sighed as she used her forefinger to pick up the last crumbs from the muffin. She could just get another one, but one wasn’t enough and two was way too many. “I wish he trusted my judgment on these things. I haven’t done anything stupid since I stopped hanging out at the bar where you bartended in California. And that was all about my choice of men.”
“I could have told you that Tommy was a bad idea. He went through women like paper plates,” Shauna reminded Cat.
“No judgment from you. When we met, you were dating that actor guy. What was his name, George with a J?” Cat pointed out. “He used to stand you up for dates for practice readings with his drama group.”
“He was focused on learning the craft.” Shauna shook her shoulders like she was pushing off a bad memory. “I should have known that I wasn’t his priority when he took a call from one of the girls in his class on our first date. She had news about a possible casting call, and they talked most of the dinner. I was about to get up and leave when he finally noticed I was uncomfortable and ended the conversation. I can’t believe I put up with him for six months.”
“You dated him almost a year,” Cat pointed out as she checked the clock. “But now you’re dating Mr. Secret and much better off. Unless Jeorge has found you in Colorado? Maybe he’s here doing community theater?”
“It’s not Jeorge.” Shauna pinked as she stood and went to the counter to take out a mixing bowl. “And you’re going to be late for your goal setting talk.”
“And you’re avoiding the conversation about your new beau.” Cat laughed as she grabbed the folder with the forms and her coffee cup. “I’ll find out who it is. Like you pointed out earlier, I’m good at sleuthing.”
“Correction, you’re good at snooping. There’s a difference.” Shauna measured ingredients into the blue bowl she’d grabbed. From what Cat could see, it was cookies, or a cake, or some other type of baked goods. All she knew was it would be yummy.
“Don’t be a hater.” Cat backed out of the kitchen and almost ran into Seth on his way in. “Oh, good morning.”
“Hey, beautiful. Looks like you’re on your way to your writer friends. Everything okay this morning?” He locked her gaze with his deep blue eyes.
Cat felt the intensity of the stare through her entire body. He acted like he still loved her, but could she trust him not to take off again? When he’d put off the wedding, he’d hurt her. And she’d hurt him when she’d married Michael. Maybe they were just destined to dodge and weave a real relationship in this life. When she was ready, he wasn’t. When he was ready, she wasn’t. Biting her bottom lip, she blinked first. “Everything’s fine. We’re doing an opening exercise before breakfast, then heading to the library. We should be able to walk to campus since the weather is supposed to be nice.”
“Yeah, this holds up and you won’t need a driver until Saturday when we go for dinner.” Seth squeezed her arm. “I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say good morning. Sam’s missing you too. Maybe this afternoon if you have some time, you could stop by the apartment and see him.”
