vision. Plus, he ’d left his readers upstairs. Assuming there was nothing personal in a note left in plain sight on the table, he passed it to Wardell. “Don’t have my glasses. Do you mind?”
Wardell set his coffee aside and read aloud. “ Found this wedged under your seat in the truck. Must have dropped before you got out. N.M. ”
Gordon checked the phone, which gave him a pleasant surprise by turning on. Battery was on its last legs, but charging it would be easy enough. He was about to go to his room for his readers when Mrs. Yardumian came in and set a bowl of fruit and cheeses, along with a huge glass of orange juice in front of him. “Your waffle will be up in a second.”
He thanked her and asked if she ’d seen when Nick Metcalf had left the phone and note.
“ No, he left bright and early. Around six, I think. He took some breakfast to go.”
“ Checked out?”
She bobbed her head. “Yes. Said he’d changed his plans because of the weather.” She turned and gazed out the window. “It looks like it might be a nice day today. But around here, you never know.”
Wardell stood. “I’d better look into getting a rental car while the roads are passable. Where’s the nearest agency?”
“ Montrose,” Mrs. Yardumian said. “I think they have the one that delivers cars. Or, if you can wait, maybe Raffi can drive you into town.” She cast a questioning gaze in Gordon’s direction. “Paula and Sam both checked out this morning, too.”
Gordon couldn ’t avoid Wardell’s pleading expression. “I suppose I could give you a ride. But first we should be available for the State Patrol investigators.”
“ Let me get the rest of your breakfast.” She picked up Wardell’s empty coffee cup and stepped toward the kitchen.
“ Hey, if it’s too much trouble, I’ll call and see if I can get a delivered car,” Wardell said to Gordon. “I’d have to pass through there on my way, anyhow.”
“ You going back to your uncle’s?” Gordon asked. “You said he lived in Telluride?” Different county, different jurisdiction. And not his problem.
“ Can’t think of anything else to do. Unless you have any ideas?”
“ Let’s see what the troopers say.”
Wardell wandered to the sideboard and picked out an apple from the bowl of fruit Mrs. Yardumian had sitting out. He took a bite, ambled to the window, then to the living room. Gordon heard sounds of the news coming from the television. Mrs. Yardumian returned with a plate filled with a huge Belgian waffle and rashers of bacon, a platter with honey, syrup, whipped cream, a mixed fruit compote, and butter. “If you need anything more, let me know.”
Gordon ’s appetite caught up with him, and his stomach rumbled. “Looks great.”
He ’d worked his way through half the waffle when the cowbells clanged from the front room. Boots clumped, and Raffi Yardumian and Wardell appeared in the dining room along with a weary-looking State Trooper.
Chapter 18
Gordon stood, wiping his mouth. He tossed the napkin on the table. “I’m Gordon,” he said, hoping to forestall the trooper using his rank.
The compact trooper, knit cap in hand, purple shadows under his eyes, and a stubble-darkened jaw, looked like he ’d been working the night shift, the day shift, and the swing shift. Twice in a row. He handed Gordon and Wardell business cards. “Matt Kennedy. I need to take a report.”
Mrs. Yardumian appeared with a coffee mug in hand. “Can I get you some coffee, trooper?”
“ I’d appreciate that, ma’am. Black with sugar.”
“ Have a seat. I could make you a waffle if you’d like.”
“ No, thanks, ma’am. Coffee’s fine.”
Mrs. Yardumian whisked over to the sideboard and filled the mug, returning with it and the sugar bowl. “I’ll let you fix it the way you like it.”
Kennedy set his hat on the table and added two heaping spoons of sugar to his coffee. He stirred, sipped, and sighed. “Thanks so much.”
Mrs.
Wardell set his coffee aside and read aloud. “ Found this wedged under your seat in the truck. Must have dropped before you got out. N.M. ”
Gordon checked the phone, which gave him a pleasant surprise by turning on. Battery was on its last legs, but charging it would be easy enough. He was about to go to his room for his readers when Mrs. Yardumian came in and set a bowl of fruit and cheeses, along with a huge glass of orange juice in front of him. “Your waffle will be up in a second.”
He thanked her and asked if she ’d seen when Nick Metcalf had left the phone and note.
“ No, he left bright and early. Around six, I think. He took some breakfast to go.”
“ Checked out?”
She bobbed her head. “Yes. Said he’d changed his plans because of the weather.” She turned and gazed out the window. “It looks like it might be a nice day today. But around here, you never know.”
Wardell stood. “I’d better look into getting a rental car while the roads are passable. Where’s the nearest agency?”
“ Montrose,” Mrs. Yardumian said. “I think they have the one that delivers cars. Or, if you can wait, maybe Raffi can drive you into town.” She cast a questioning gaze in Gordon’s direction. “Paula and Sam both checked out this morning, too.”
Gordon couldn ’t avoid Wardell’s pleading expression. “I suppose I could give you a ride. But first we should be available for the State Patrol investigators.”
“ Let me get the rest of your breakfast.” She picked up Wardell’s empty coffee cup and stepped toward the kitchen.
“ Hey, if it’s too much trouble, I’ll call and see if I can get a delivered car,” Wardell said to Gordon. “I’d have to pass through there on my way, anyhow.”
“ You going back to your uncle’s?” Gordon asked. “You said he lived in Telluride?” Different county, different jurisdiction. And not his problem.
“ Can’t think of anything else to do. Unless you have any ideas?”
“ Let’s see what the troopers say.”
Wardell wandered to the sideboard and picked out an apple from the bowl of fruit Mrs. Yardumian had sitting out. He took a bite, ambled to the window, then to the living room. Gordon heard sounds of the news coming from the television. Mrs. Yardumian returned with a plate filled with a huge Belgian waffle and rashers of bacon, a platter with honey, syrup, whipped cream, a mixed fruit compote, and butter. “If you need anything more, let me know.”
Gordon ’s appetite caught up with him, and his stomach rumbled. “Looks great.”
He ’d worked his way through half the waffle when the cowbells clanged from the front room. Boots clumped, and Raffi Yardumian and Wardell appeared in the dining room along with a weary-looking State Trooper.
Chapter 18
Gordon stood, wiping his mouth. He tossed the napkin on the table. “I’m Gordon,” he said, hoping to forestall the trooper using his rank.
The compact trooper, knit cap in hand, purple shadows under his eyes, and a stubble-darkened jaw, looked like he ’d been working the night shift, the day shift, and the swing shift. Twice in a row. He handed Gordon and Wardell business cards. “Matt Kennedy. I need to take a report.”
Mrs. Yardumian appeared with a coffee mug in hand. “Can I get you some coffee, trooper?”
“ I’d appreciate that, ma’am. Black with sugar.”
“ Have a seat. I could make you a waffle if you’d like.”
“ No, thanks, ma’am. Coffee’s fine.”
Mrs. Yardumian whisked over to the sideboard and filled the mug, returning with it and the sugar bowl. “I’ll let you fix it the way you like it.”
Kennedy set his hat on the table and added two heaping spoons of sugar to his coffee. He stirred, sipped, and sighed. “Thanks so much.”
Mrs.
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