"Im sure thats not necessary. Did you look carefully?"
"What am I, an imbecile?" The young woman threw up her hands, turned to the young man, and let loose a stream of French.
He lifted his hands. "Calm down, Sophie. Ill sort it out. She says her cash and credit card are gone."
"She must be mistaken. Nothing can have been stolen. Not from my establishment. Why, why, no ones been here today."
"Lorraine was." Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouth stood at the door. She pushed Sophie aside. "She was here wasnt she? This morning, around noon. I wasnt up to skiing today. Just stayed in my room mostly. But I went into town for lunch and some shopping, and I saw her. She was in the kitchen, eating soup."
"Lorraine was here as my guest," Ellie said. "Shes upset about the death of your brother, it seems she was quite fond of him..."
"Fond," Wendy snorted. "Fond of his money."
"I dont know about that, but she came to the door, and she was sad, and I was about to sit down with my lunch. Id made enough for Kathy, but I hadnt seen hide nor hair of her since she did a pretty poor job at her ch.o.r.es. So I gave her soup to Lorraine."
"Who are we talking about?" Lucky asked, although she could guess. Lorraine LeBlanc. Sixteen years old and already a disaster looking for a place to happen.
"That miserable Lorraine creature. My brother smiled at her sideways, and she seems to think that meant they were about to be married."
"More than smiled at," Alan said with an unpleasant chuckle.
"Who the h.e.l.l asked for your opinion?"
"Lest you forget, Wendy, I am the complainant here."
"Sorry, I thought that was Sophie. And Sophie wants to call the police, dont you Sophie? People cant be allowed to just walk into a private home and poke around looking for anything they want, right?"
"Yes, I said so, didnt I?"
"Hold on," Lucky said. "So Lorraine was here, having soup in the kitchen. You were with her the entire time, werent you, Ellie?"
Thoughts raced across the womans face as she struggled to find the right answer.
Lorraine. Poor Lorraine. Left alone in the B&B, the girl might well be tempted to walk up the stairs, to peek into the two hundred dollar a night rooms and see what sort of stuff the rich carried around with them. And even help herself to what she thought no one would miss.
"Ellie," Lucky said. "Did you leave Lorraine alone for a length of time?"
"I might have gone to the bathroom. I dont remember."
"There you have it," Wendy shouted. "It takes no length of time to run upstairs, open a drawer, and s.n.a.t.c.h the money."
"No," Lucky said. "But it does to find the right room, and the right location, without turning the place over. Was anything in your room disturbed, Sophie?"
Sophie looked at Alan.
He shook his head. "Not so as I noticed. Sophie went into her drawer to get money for dinner and noticed it was gone."
"Lorraine obviously cased the place earlier," Wendy said. "That explains it."
"Explains what?"
The girls eyes shifted to one side. "Nothing. Just thinking. Are you going to call the cops, Mrs. C?"
Ellie twisted her ap.r.o.n in her hands. She looked perilously close to sheer panic. Lucky touched her friends arm. "This wont reflect on you."
"It most certainly will," Wendy said. Her voice was rising. "I cant imagine wholl want to stay here after this gets out. In fact, we all should get a sizeable discount, if not our entire stay for free. This place isnt at all the quality its advertised to be."
"We need to calm down," Lucky said. "We have plenty of time to discuss this. It isnt an emergency." Wendy was over-reacting to a considerable degree, and Lucky suspected it had nothing to do with the loss of Sophies money, or even with Lorraine, but with the young womans own all-encompa.s.sing grief.
Wendy pulled a cell phone out of her pocket. "If you wont call the cops, Ill have to do it." She punched in three numbers, and went into the hall to make the call.
"This is dreadful, simply dreadful," Ellie said. "I didnt leave Lorraine alone for more than a couple of minutes. Well, perhaps I did, I dont quite remember every detail."
Wendy came back. "The police," she said, very haughty, "will be here shortly."
Ellie groaned.
The small procession pulled into town. John Winters turned into the police station, and Molly Smith drove past. Hed heard shed taken the apartment above Alphonses bakery.
He made a quick decision, and turned the van around. There was no traffic on Monroe Street and he caught up to the Focus as it made the next corner.
The Ford climbed over dirty packed snow and ice to reach its parking slot on the other side of the alley. He pulled up behind her, opened the window and waited.
"Everything, okay?" she asked, coming up to the drivers window, ski boots in hand. Shed pulled a knitted red cap over her head.
"I dont know what Jason Wyatt-Yarmouth was doing the day his pal was missing. I need to find out. I know youre not working today, but thought you might want to come with me."
She grinned. "Thanks, John, thanks. Do you want me to put on my uniform?"
"Youll do."
She tossed her ski boots back into her car, locked it, ran around the van and jumped into the pa.s.senger seat. As eager as a puppy at play time.
It was almost six. A good time to find skiers resting between the day on the slopes and heading out to dinner. The Wyatt-Yarmouth family and friends were a p.r.i.c.kly bunch, and hed decided, on the spur of the moment, that it would be a good idea to have someone else on hand. Even if only to observe and pick up on unspoken communication.
He backed the van into the alley. The radio crackled. Reported theft at 1894 Victoria Street. Winters turned to Smith. "Isnt that the Glacier Chalet?"
"Yeah, it is."
"What a coincidence." He grabbed the radio. "Winters. Ill take that call."
"You got it, Sarge."
Molly Smith was not pleased to see her mother, once again, standing in the hallway of the Glacier Chalet B&B. But she knew that Lucky and Ellie Carmine were friends, so her mom did have the right to be here. Although the hotels and B&Bs in town did a lot of mutually-beneficial business with the outfitting and tour companies, Lucky and Ellie hadnt become friends until recently. While Molly was away at University there was something about Ellie having trouble with the police over guests using hard drugs in her B&B. How that would bring her into Lucky Smiths circle, Molly didnt want to know.
"That was quick," Mrs. Carmine said, opening the door. Looking like Mrs. Claus no longer, her face was set in hard, tight lines.
"Constable Smith and I were pa.s.sing," Winters explained.
Mrs. Carmine hesitated and then stepped back to let them in.
A good-sized crowd was gathered in the entrance hall. Not only Ellie Carmine and Lucky Smith, but Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouth, and two of her friends, the Quebec girl and her boyfriend.
Wendy looked at Smith, sizing up the police jacket and ski pants, red wool gloves, and matching red hat. She didnt bother to contain a sneer. "Are you the only cop they have in this miserable town? Every time I turn around youre standing there. Nice uniform though."
Not that Smith cared much about Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouths opinions. In her short career shed already run into plenty of rich types who considered themselves to be above the law, and plenty of young women who wanted to have the female equivalent of a p.i.s.sing contest with a woman cop. Smith reminded herself to be charitable, that Wendy had just lost her brother, and wasnt handling it all that well.
"You should be pleased Constable Smith is so dedicated," Winters said. "Perhaps someone can explain the problem before we go any further."
"All my money and my credit card "ave been stolen," the Quebec girl shouted. "From my room."
"Were not entirely sure about that." Mrs. Carmines face was very pale.
"I am sure, Madame."
Lucky avoided her daughters eyes and put her arm around her friends shoulder.
Winters asked the standard questions. Smith should be taking notes, but not being in uniform she didnt have a notebook with her.
"Is it possible you misplaced the items, Sophie?" Mrs. Carmine asked.
"Non."
"Did you make a thorough search, sir?" Winters said to the young man. "Alan Robertson isnt it?"
"Yes. No. Yes, Im Alan and no we didnt search. Sophie said her money was missing and we came downstairs."
"This is ridiculous." Wendy almost stamped her foot. "That girl is obviously up to no good and I for one refuse to stand here chattering about it"-Smith dearly hoped that Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouth would insist on leaving the scene-"while she spends every penny of poor Sophies money. G.o.d, Sophie, youd better cancel your credit cards right away."
Sophie gasped.
"Who is "she?" Winters asked. "Do you suspect someone of taking the money?"
"No," said Alan and Mrs. Carmine and Lucky Smith.
"Yes," said Wendy.
"Go on," Winters said to Wendy.
"Lorraine whats her name, of course."
"She means Lorraine LeBlanc," Lucky said.
"You think Lorraine LeBlanc was responsible." Winters said. "Why?"
"Why? Its perfectly obvious," Wendy shouted. She turned to Smith. "You saw the state she was in last night. Demanding to be included in my family."
"I dont see..."
"She was in the house. I saw her myself. I demand you arrest her."
"Is everyone who was in this house today to be arrested?" Winters asked pointedly.
Wendy flushed.
"Before this goes any further," Lucky said, "Id suggest we have another search of the room. Sophie, youre sharing the room with Alan, right?"
The girl nodded.
"When two people share close accommodations and a strange room, its easy for things to get misplaced. And Alan," she smiled sweetly, "you did say that you only watched Sophie look in the place she thought shed left the money. You didnt actually search."
Smith glanced at Sergeant Winters. The left edge of his mouth twitched. It was the only sign of a smile he would allow himself.
"Cant hurt," Alan said to Sophie.
"Thats a perfectly wonderful idea," Mrs. Carmine said.
"If we must," Wendy said. She began to turn.
"While Im here, Ms. Wyatt-Yarmouth," Winters said. "Id like to speak to you about your brother and Ewan Williams. Perhaps Mrs. Carmine would allow us to talk in the common room."
Wendy shot daggers at him with her eyes.
"If its okay with Alan and Sophie, Constable Smith will go with them. You wont a.s.sist with the search in any way, Constable. Just observe."
"Yes, sir," she said.
The front door opened and Jeremy walked in. He stopped so abruptly that Rob crashed into the back of him.
"Hey," Rob said. "Whats all this? Has something happened?"
"Yes," Wendys thin chest rose with indignation. "There has been a theft and these cops refuse to do anything about it. Im going to make a complaint."
"Oh, put a sock in it, Wendy," Alan said in a tired voice. "Hard as it is to believe, this isnt about you."
Wendy sputtered.
"Where the h.e.l.ld you get to anyway?" Alan said. "We couldnt find you when it was time to leave."
"I got a ride back." Jeremy Wozenack smirked at Smith.
"Coulda told us," Alan mumbled. He led the way to the stairs. Smith and Sophie followed.
The upstairs corridor was wide enough to have a thin-legged mahogany table up against the wall, holding magazines and tourist brochures. The wallpaper was stripped pink and cream above the wainscoting. Paintings of historical scenes lined the walls. Whiskered men in suits and ties or overalls and women in long dresses and big hats.