“No, but I saw tracks. Not animal tracks. They were in the snow and they were parallel like… skis, I guess?”
“Blood and skiing.” Val frowned. “That could be anything from a nosebleed at the slopes to something serious.” Her phone buzzed again.
“I know. It’s not very clear at this point.”
Seriously? It was the fourth message from Rachel. The first had warned her that Josh wasn’t going to make his visitation this weekend. Big surprise there. The second, third, and fourth just said “Call me” with no other explanation.
“Still, it felt serious.”
Val looked up. “What did?”
“The vision.” Monica frowned. “Are you all right?”
Val shrugged. “Just some bullshit from Josh and his little girlfriend.” She put her phone away. “Okay. I’ll keep the boys from hitting the slopes for a while. I don’t know what else we can do. Did you warn Robin and Mark?”
“Not yet.”
“They’re the most regular skiers. I’d shoot her a text.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Monica got out her phone. “What about you? Did you go back on your pills yet?”
“Last night. I don’t like the cloudy feeling, but I had a vision from Americano Asshole the other day that convinced me I needed that buffer again. Skin contact is too difficult to avoid completely.”
Monica frowned. “Americano Asshole?”
“Haven’t you heard that one before?” Val nudged Monica back into the restaurant. “You’re working here now. We’ll let you in on all the nicknames.”
Chapter 4
Val stood on the back porch of the restaurant, tapping her foot and wishing desperately for a cigarette again. She held her phone to her ear and waited for it to ring. It went straight to Josh’s voice mail. Again.
You know what you’re looking for, so leave me a message.
His voice was effortlessly sexy, but the allure of it had worn off ages ago for Val.
Just before lunch, she’d remembered to check his voice mail from the night before. She was expecting the usual excuses about why he wouldn’t be able to keep the boys that weekend, but instead he’d left her a choppy message she didn’t really get that ended with a vague request to call him. It was so unlike his usual breezy tone, she’d called him back immediately, only to be sent to voice mail.
Two and a half hours later, he still hadn’t called back, which was unlike him. That, combined with the strange texts from Rachel, prompted Val to call again.
Val waited for the beep. “Josh, it’s me again. Seriously, you need to call me back and let me know what’s going on. Rachel keeps texting me. You’re not answering your phone. Are the boys at your place this weekend or not? I just need to know.” She took a breath. “Call me.”
She did not call Rachel. The woman was Josh’s girlfriend and had no official status in her children’s life. They were living together, but they weren’t engaged. She didn’t talk to Josh’s flavor-of-the-year; there had been too many of them.
She walked back through the restaurant and gave everything a once-over. JoJo had texted a little while ago and assured her they were doing fine. The produce delivery had squeaked in just before lunch, and Don made peace with Ramon by throwing some surprise zucchini into their order.
Surprise zucchini was not a joke but desperately wanted to be.
The coffee shop closed at two in the afternoon. No exceptions. After that, it was family only, and her boys tended to head home these days instead of stopping by for an afternoon snack like they had when they were younger.
“See ya, Ramon.” Val waved as she headed out the door.
“Where you going?” Ramon was wiping down his grill.
“Up to Russell House.” She lifted the folder Robin had prepared. “I owe Monica a couple of hours after this morning.”
“She and Mrs. Lewis made a real nice deal with Honey,” Ramon said. “She’s real happy with it. Going to double her business during the high season.”
“That’s awesome.”
Val hopped in her truck and drove the five miles along the lake road to Russell House, a grand mansion that sat on the shores of Glimmer Lake.
The cold, clear waters of the lake hid the remains of the old town of Grimmer, which had been flooded over eighty years ago by a hydroelectric dam. Glimmer Lake was a sleepy mountain town that swelled to bursting in the summer when the lower elevations of the valley were sweltering hot and in the winter when the mountainsides were covered in dense snow. The holidays had come and gone, but the town was still flooded with skiers on the weekends, which made Monica’s vision all the more troubling.
Sierra Slopes, their local ski resort, had recently undergone a renovation and tourism during the winter was higher than ever.
Val pulled into the long curving driveway that had been carefully cleared of snow and looked at the festive decorations Monica and Grace, Robin’s mom, had left up on the lampposts. Swaths of evergreen and pine cones tied with midnight-blue ribbons gave Russell House a festive air even though the holiday season had passed.
Monica was waiting under the covered entryway held up by stone-clad pillars. She smiled and waved. The friendly greeting and lively decorations helped Val shake off the automatic chill that ran down her spine when she saw the facade of the house.
Russell House was a showpiece of a home built by Robin’s grandfather, Gordon Russell, to display his wealth and power. After Grandpa Russell died, he’d decided to hang around and oppress his family, who had lived with the weight of his secrets shadowing their lives.
Val had never liked the house when she’d been a child. They’d come to visit Robin’s grandmother regularly to swim in the lake, go boating, or play in the snow. But no one ever lingered inside. It was only after Val, Robin, and Monica had banished Gordon Russell’s ghost and cleansed the house that Val felt comfortable wandering around.
She parked her truck and walked up the steps. “It’s looking good.”
Monica smiled. As an empty-nester mom, she’d been looking for a new direction. Russell House was the perfect idea for someone with Monica’s skills as a homemaker and hostess. She’d transformed the old home into a chic and comfortable mountain retreat. Now, instead of looking after four unruly kids, she was looking after business groups and bridal parties.
“We’ve had a lot of advance bookings,” Monica said. “We’re already booked solid for next Christmas.”
“Are you serious?”
Monica nodded. “I knew it was going to work.”
Val threw her arm around Monica’s shoulders and walked inside. “Sometimes having psychic powers comes in handy.”
“Luckily, I don’t have them thrown in my face every hour of every day.” Monica squeezed her gloved hand. “How was the rest of today?”
“Okay. Josh isn’t answering his phone, so I have to assume he’s bailing on the boys this weekend. I already texted Jackson.”
Monica shook her head. “I will never understand that man.”
“He’s killing his relationship with his kids, but he’s doing it to himself.” Val surveyed the grand entryway of the house. “Enough about irresponsible men. What are you thinking for a coffee stand?”
“Come this way.” Monica gestured toward the formal living room. “And let’s talk about bars.”
* * *
Val was chatting with Eve at the espresso maker the next morning after the breakfast rush had slowed to the midmorning trickle. JoJo buzzed happily around the tables, and Ramon was singing oldies in the kitchen while he prepped for lunch.
Her staff was present and accounted for, the meat truck had arrived on time, and all was right in Val’s world.
“There was an existing bar in the house,” Val told Eve. “Old Mr. Russell did like his scotch. But they’re expanding that to a wine bar for the afternoon, along with evening cocktails. That sort of thing. But before two o’clock, that area is just empty. What Monica is thinking is we set up a coffee bar there. Misfit would c
reate a signature espresso drink for Russell House—”
“Probably a cold and a hot,” Eve said. “To have summer covered.”
“Good idea. So we do a signature coffee, and then all the usual menu. Guests preorder their coffees when they check in, and the staff delivers them in the morning with their pastry baskets. Russell House would pay us a flat fee for each morning, and the rest of the time we’re just selling coffee like normal.”
“So anyone can come inside and have a coffee and pastry at Russell House?” Eve asked.
“I think that’s the idea.”
Eve looked thoughtful. “You know, that might attract a lot of tourists who can’t afford to stay there, you know? ’Cause I know it’s gonna be superexpensive. But if you just want to see the place and have a drink, that’s pretty cheap.”
“I think that’s the idea.” Val quickly rang up a customer and passed the order to Eve. “Monica threw out the idea of doing an afternoon tea, but I nixed it. Afternoon tea is not our brand.”
Eve pursed her lips and looked around Misfit, from the blood-red ceiling to the skiing and snowboarding stickers plastered over the walls. “Is Russell House our brand?”
“Not really, but Monica called us a ‘Glimmer Lake institution.’”
Eve laughed. “Meaning we’re the only game in town?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” The corner of Val’s mouth lifted. “And they don’t want it to be too stuffy up there. The Lodge has stuffy covered. They want sleek and sophisticated and just a little edgy. Younger patrons, not older.”
“We serve everyone,” Eve pulled a shot of espresso and gently added the milk. “You’ll need another barista. At least?”
“I think one person will be enough most of the time.” Val took the cappuccino from Eve and handed it across the counter. “We’ll have to see if there are rush times. If there are—maybe on weekend mornings—we might be able to snag one of Monica’s people to fill in.”
“That could work. But we’ll definitely have to train another barista.”
“Unless we can find someone new in town, yeah.”
Eve nodded. “But we have a couple of months.”
“They’re not officially open except for events until May.”
“That gives us time.”
“I thought so.” Val glanced up and saw Sully enter the coffee shop. She instinctively reached for a large cup and wrote his name on it.
Eve asked, “Did Monica mention anything about signage for Russell House?”
“Nothing on the front of the house, but we can put something on the road to direct—”
“Val.” Sully nudged aside two snowboarders at the front of the line to reach her. “You have a minute?”
Eve and Val exchanged a look.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I’m not here for coffee,” Sully said. “I need to talk to you.”
His face was grim and his mouth was set in a flat line. This was not a flirtatious visit or a coffee visit. This felt… official.
Val felt the blood drain from her face. “My boys—?”
“Are fine. As are your parents. I’m not here about…” He grew frustrated. “Can we just go to the back please?”
The snowboarders were watching with wide eyes and open mouths while Eve shoved Val toward the back.
“I’ll cover the front,” Eve said. “Go. I’ll bring you back some coffee in a minute.”
Val felt frozen as she walked down the hall. She tugged at her gloves, unsure of whether she should take them off or not. What was going on? What was happening? Why wouldn’t Sully say anything?
He reached around her and opened the door to the back porch, then ushered her into the covered area and flipped on the heater before he turned to her. “I don’t want you to panic. Your immediate family is fine.”
“My immediate family?”
Sully took off his hat and set it on the table, running a hand through the shaggy brown hair that covered his collar.
“You need a haircut,” Val said absently.
“I know. I’ve just been busy, and honestly, it’s fucking cold and I can’t be bothered.”
She focused on his hat, crossing her arms and staring at the light brown Stetson. He was such a mountain man. Flannel and leather and cowboy hats. And she shaved her head and had a million tattoos and rarely dressed in anything but black. No one would put them together in a million years. What a weird idea.
“Val, look at me.”
She glanced at him, then looked away. “You’re going to tell me something bad.”
“No one is dead, okay? It’s Josh.”
One name was enough to snap her out of her frozen panic. “Josh?” She uncrossed her arms and fisted them on her hips. “Josh?”
“Yeah, it’s about Josh.”
She let out a long string of curses. “You fucking had me in knots, Sully! What the fuck did Josh do?”
“Well…” He huffed. “It’s not good. There’s a warrant out for his arrest in Bridger, and no one can find him.”
“His arrest? For what?” Josh was a dumbass, but he wasn’t a criminal. He’d grown some pot when they were younger, but that was the extent of his nefarious ways. And pot was legal these days. “What’s going on?”
“You know he was working for Luxury Pro Autoworks, right?”
Val snorted. “Yeah.”
Sully got out his notebook. “Do you know why he left West’s garage?”
“’Cause he’s an idiot?”
Sully just waited.
She rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows. He slept with West’s wife. I can’t hardly blame the guy for kicking him out.”
“Yeah, so apparently he was about to be fired from Luxury Pro Autoworks too. Not for sleeping with anyone”—he answered Val’s question before she could ask it—“but because he was moonlighting. Offering cut rates to Luxury’s customers to work on their cars in their own garages. You know he has that truck.”
“Yeah. He was talking about starting something on his own a couple of years ago and found the money for the truck.” Not that he could find the money to pay child support that summer, but that was another story. “He’s an idiot. What’s the warrant about though?”
“So he was working on some guy’s Mercedes in Pheasant Creek off the books. This guy is claiming he gave Josh ten grand to buy parts and Josh took off with the money.”
Val frowned. “Someone is claiming Josh stole ten grand from them?”
“Yeah.” Sully’s hand was poised over his notebook. “Sound like something he’d do?”
“No.” Val shrugged. “You know I’m not of a fan of my ex, but that doesn’t sound like Josh at all. Sleep with someone’s wife? Sure. Moonlight if he thought a garage was taking too big a cut? Sure. But just flat out steal from a customer? No way. And especially not a rich one.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you ask him, he’ll tell you rich dudes rarely know how to drive the cars they buy.”
Sully looked confused. “But why—?”
“They’re the best customers,” Val said. “They buy fancy cars and don’t care how much it costs to fix them. They usually buy high-performance vehicles that can’t be driven like Mom’s minivan, but a lot of these guys don’t really know how to drive, so they have to take their cars in a lot. He was constantly working on high-end sports cars when he was at West’s.”
Sully put a hand on his hip and slid the notebook into his front shirt pocket. “So you don’t think he’d pull a stunt like this?”
“No way. The dude is lying. Don’t know why, but he is.”
“What if the guy was an asshole to him for some reason?”
“Then Josh just wouldn’t work with him,” Val said. “There’s not many mechanics in the mountains as good as Josh. So if he told you no, you’d have to go a hundred miles to find anyone willing to work on a really high-performance engine. Unless this guy was an idiot, he wouldn’t start a petty fight with the best specialty mechanic
in the area.”
Sully had his hands on his hips, mirroring Val’s stance. He stared intently at her. Intent to the point of Val actually wanting to move out of his line of vision. “So you think the guy is lying.”
“Yeah. That’s what the warrant is about?”
“Yeah. Bridger PD has been trying to find him, and no one is answering. He’s not at home. His girlfriend says he hasn’t been around for about three days.”
Val blinked. Three days? That would have been around the time he’d called her and asked her to call him back.
“Val?” Sully’s blue eyes were lasered on her. “Has he called you?”
“Kind of? He called about three days ago and left a voice mail asking me to call him.” Val shrugged. “It was the middle of the night. And it was kind of broken up.”
“You didn’t call him back?”
“I did the next day. I don’t answer calls or texts from Josh in the middle of the night unless the boys are with him. It went to voice mail. He hasn’t called back.”
Sully blinked.
It took a second for Val to realize what she’d inadvertently revealed. That’s right, I will answer a text from you at midnight, Sully. Don’t read too much into it.
“Okay.” He cleared his throat and reached for his hat. Val reached it before he did, deliberately allowing her wrist to brush against the rim.
In the split second before she turned to hand Sully his hat, she saw him sitting in his office, speaking to someone on the phone.
“Is foul play suspected?” This could be bad. Really bad. And it was the last thing Val needed on her plate. If she was ever going to give him a chance—
Not the time, Sully.
“We’re asking around, but Mason wasn’t exactly a choirboy. He may not have a record, but he’s had complaints. The girlfriend is lying about something. If you want my guess, he’s in Vegas right now, trying to double his money. Seems like the type. Anderson is making all kinds of noise though, so we’re not gonna get any rest until we find him and bring him in.”
Semi-Psychic Life: Glimmer Lake Book Two Page 4