Powdered Murder

"As always, you are probably right." He gri

"I'll let you know when I find her," I reassured him.

"You won't have to." He stepped past me and headed for the exit. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. I wasn't sure if I should have scolded him and forced him to stay behind with his fiancé or if I should just play along.

I followed Patrick down the hallway and towards the front of the hotel. The sun had gone down, leaving a royal blue felt-looking sky with holes poked through it for stars. The snow was still falling, but lightly. A fresh powder was on the front lawn and throughout the parking lot. I ran when I stepped outside, putting as much distance in between me and the building as I could. Patrick chuckled, but I didn't care.

Something might have fallen from the sky.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Prepare for the worst," I said as I unlocked the door to my apartment. There had been no sign of Joy on our drive into town. There were no signs of any accidents either. Patrick and I were surprised to see that Mrs. Tankle's lights were still on in The Painted Deer Bookshop.

"What do you mean?" Patrick asked.

"Oh there you are. Finally!" Mrs. Tankle hustled out of her shop at just the right moment.

"Mrs. Tankle," Patrick said, taking her arm. "You shouldn't be ru

"Well, I didn't," she barked at him. "I still have some fight left in me." Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. "Go on and open the door, Essie. I heard those two yelling and screaming. I called the sheriff but he hasn't shown yet. I warned you about letting that bum Wade Porter into your apartment."

"Yes, I know, Mrs. Tankle." I nodded apologetically. "I am so sorry."

"Don't make it a habit," she scolded me. "I could have lost business because of it. Lots of my customers like to stay and do some reading after they make their purchases, especially the ones on couples' retreats who are looking for an hour alone in peace and quiet."

"Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of a couples' retreat?" Patrick chuckled. I immediately shook my head.

"What was that?" Mrs. Tankle asked snidely.

"Nothing," he lied. "I mean, I too am very sorry for the noise."

"Well…" She took a deep breath as if accepting our apologies. "It's not your fault, Patrick." She looked at me. "Or yours, Essie."

"Let's sort this whole thing out, shall we?" Patrick gestured towards the door, and I quickly pushed it open. What I found looked like a crime scene.

The coffee table was overturned and all the sofa cushions were on the floor. Some even looked like they had been tossed at the television. The kitchen was a mess. Food was all over the counters and a couple of empty water bottles were on the kitchen floor. Mrs. Tankle jumped when a loud bang came from one of the bedrooms.

"That's it!" she shouted. "I have had it!"

Patrick and I looked at each other as more noises came from Joy's bedroom. My eyes darted from the empty liquor bottle in the kitchen to the trail of clothes leading towards the door where Mrs. Tankle was standing.

A pair of jeans.

A skirt.

A blouse tangled with a lacy push-up bra.

"Mrs. Tankle," I shouted. "Mrs. Tankle, don't!"

But I'd yelled my warning too late.

Naively, Mrs. Tankle pushed open the bedroom door ready to give my sister a piece of her mind. What Mrs. Tankle saw was enough to give her a heart attack instead. The noises grew louder and Mrs. Tankle clutched her chest, letting out a blood-curdling scream. My eyes went wide enough to pop out of my head. Joy and Wade were intertwined so tightly on her bed I couldn't tell what belonged to who. Joy's bare skin looked tan compared to Wade's nude complexion.

"Mrs. Tankle," I gasped as she fell to the floor. As I ran to her aid, Joy jerked herself away from her ex-husband and covered herself with a sheet. Wade, who had no shame that he had been caught in the act or in his nude appearance, rushed to her side. His abs contracted as he tried to catch his breath.

"Mrs. Tankle, are you okay?" Wade said loudly as if she was deaf. He knelt closer to her. Mrs. Tankle's eyes were closed, but her chest was rising up and down. She must have just fainted. I confirmed that she still had a pulse and cringed when I happened to look in the wrong direction at the wrong time.

"Wade," I said through my teeth, shying away from his exposed crotch. "Put that thing away! You're only making it worse."

"If you say so." He smirked and stood up. I would have been more upset with him if this hadn't already happened to me before. During the times when Joy and Wade were together, I would often have to remind him that he needed to be fully dressed when I was around.

"And you," I said, glaring at my little sister. The look on her face was more of what I expected in this situation. She was shocked, ashamed, and strategically hiding herself behind a dresser in embarrassment. "You are minutes away from losing that promotion and maybe even your job."

"Oh crap," she muttered to herself, grabbing her clothes that were strewn across the front room. "Essie, I am so so so so—"

"Later," I interrupted her. Mrs. Tankle blinked. "Your boss is looking for you."

Patrick knelt down beside me and helped my landlady sit up. She looked drowsy, squinting in order to see like her eyelids were fitted with tiny hand weights. She yawned like she was just waking up from an afternoon nap. Wade took a step closer to us, but I waved at him to stay back.

"Mrs. Tankle," I said softly. "Are you feeling alright?"

Patrick leapt to his feet and filled an empty glass with water. He carefully walked back from the kitchen and gently handed it to her. She accepted his offering and took a sip. I brushed a strand of gray hair from her face, and assisted her with standing. She was wobbly on her feet at first, but Patrick helped steady her.

"Oh my," she breathed. "What happened, dear?"

Joy, now fully clothed, took Mrs. Tankle by the arm to apologize.

"I believe you fainted when you saw me and—"

"Wade," I butted in. The sight of him made Mrs. Tankle red in the face. She rubbed her forehead and teetered backwards.

"Come on, man," Patrick said calmly. "I think Mrs. Tankle has seen enough of you for one night?"

"Right." Wade grabbed his coat and nodded as if tipping his hat goodbye. "Essie. Patrick, good to see you again. Mrs. Tankle, I'm very sorry about the noise." He shut the door behind him and loudly trotted down the staircase. I rolled my eyes.

"That man is the Devil," Mrs. Tankle said under her breath. She took another sip of water. "I am going to report him to Sheriff Williams."

"For what?" Patrick asked. I quickly nudged his shoulder. "I mean, that won't be necessary. I think Essie can get him the message that you don't want to see him anywhere near your shop, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, helping her to the door.

Mrs. Tankle still looked flustered as Patrick and I led her to the doorstep, leaving Joy to prepare for her big apology to Mr. Kentworth. I closed and locked the apartment door, and cautiously walked with her back to The Painted Deer Bookshop. More snowflakes flew through the night and landed gracefully on the sidewalk. Mrs. Tankle opened the door to her store and Patrick escorted her inside where she'd been reading one of her mystery novels on the sofa. The Painted Deer was a calm and cozy sort of place with bookshelves that reached the ceiling and a display table near the front showcasing local arts and crafts. There were a couple of colorful quilts displayed on the walls. Mrs. Tankle quilted in her spare time and used her finished products to brighten up the place.