Game of Cones by Cynthia Baxter

Author:Cynthia Baxter [Baxter, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-08-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Kulfi, a frozen dairy dessert from the Indian subcontinent, is popular all over India, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, Myanmar, and the Middle East. While it is similar to ice cream, it is creamier and more dense. The most traditional flavors are cream, rose, mango, cardamom, saffron, and pistachio.

—https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kulfi

I decided that like everyone else I would head back to my room for some serious alone time. I left Yoko sprawled out in her chair to drown her bitter memories in what remained of the sherry.

But as soon as I walked out of the Fireside Room, I spotted Gordon Bradley heading toward one of the other lounge areas.

Which offered me the perfect opportunity to cozy up to him to see what I could find out about him, Bethany, and their relationship. So much for my chance for some alone time.

“Gordon!” I called after him. “I’m so glad I ran into you. We haven’t really had a chance to chat.”

He turned, looking surprised. And not exactly pleased. I guess he’d been hoping for some alone time, too.

“It looks like you’re about to relax in the Mountainside Room,” I said as I caught up with him. “Mind if I join you? I’m up for a little break myself.”

“Uh, sure,” he said. After all, he didn’t have much choice.

“Great.” I flashed him my biggest smile.

He and I settled into side-by-side chairs in front of the Mountainside Room’s fireplace. We exchanged some polite small talk about how beautiful Mohawk was, how inviting the fireplace was, and how comfortable the chairs were. A long silence followed.

It was Gordon who finally broke it. “I just made one of the most difficult phone calls of my life,” he said. “I finally got up the courage to call Gloria La Montaine and tell her what happened to her daughter.”

Of course. Someone had to break the news to her family. And it made sense that it had been Gordon, the only person who was here at Mohawk who had had a personal relationship with Bethany.

“That must have been awful,” I said sympathetically. “I don’t even have to ask you how she took the news.”

“No,” he agreed. “I’m sure you can imagine how our conversation went.” He grimaced, then added, “Not surprisingly, it wasn’t a very long conversation. Gloria fell apart and needed to get off the phone right away.”

“Gordon, you’re doing an absolutely valiant job of getting through this weekend,” I told him. “You must be devastated, and yet you’re managing to go through the motions as if nothing had happened.”

He cast me an odd glance. I wondered if he was picking up on my thinly veiled criticism or if this was just his usual way of dealing with conversations that centered around feelings.

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” he replied. “If I hid away in my room, counting the minutes until I could get out of this place, it would be worse. At least having things to do and other people around is a distraction.” He thought for a few seconds, then added, “That ice cream we made today was pretty good, too.

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