Guns and Ammo and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  “I would have absolved you,” he said. “And I wasn’t stealing.”

  Whatever. I eye rolled while my mind made a plea to the universe. After all the murders I’d witnessed, please, please let him be next. “Screw you, Ryan,” I said. “No, wait. Did that, paid the price for it. Never again.” And, with that definitive (right, sure, okay) cut down I stormed off.

  If only I actually felt like I’d accomplished something.

  When I returned from Mom’s car with the last armload of supplies, Ryan was gone. Maybe he fell off the mountain or drowned in the river or got eaten by a bear. That would be awesome. And, okay, no, I didn’t really wish he would die. Not really. Not much. Just a little bit, you know? Like enough to make him sweat.

  I slipped through the door and into the front room, heading for the kitchen, but caught myself as the sound of angry whispers reached me. Caleb and Dan stood not far from the entry, heads down, hissing back and forth. I caught the word Blackstone and Grayson before they glanced up and saw me watching. Both fell instantly quiet, Caleb nodding to me with a nervous smile before striding off toward the foyer, Dan exiting out the door I’d just come through while I let my anger at Ryan dissipate in favor of the mystery I’d been presented.

  So, they did know about Blackstone. And I was going to find out what they had to say about that secretive corporation if it took me all weekend. At least the hunt for information would offer a distraction and keep me from doing something I’d regret later.

  Two days. I could make it two days. Right?

  ***

  Chapter Twelve

  Bill and Moose arrived in time to save me from the downward spiral of my frustration and annoyance at being trapped at the retreat with some of my least favorite people on the planet (new and old). The only saving grace was that there was no sign of Rosebert, so I had that to hang my gratitude on, though I was positive at any second the pair would waltz through the double front doors and turn my life into a living hell.

  Instead, the towering, hulking and often intimidating form of Bill Saunders, flanked by the pony-sized black beast he called a dog signaled a bit of relief from my inner turmoil and actually brought a smile to my face. I hugged Moose’s big head against my hip while Petunia barked and gamboled around his shaggy legs, a pint-sized pug excited by the visit with one of her best friends.

  Bill shook my hand in his rather formal way, though the slow, wide smile he shared confirmed his liking for me hadn’t evaporated with the time between our last visit. “Petunia’s looking good, Fee,” he said. “Lost more weight, has she?”

  I grunted at that. “She wishes.” I had to admit she was much more svelte and in shape than she’d been when I first adopted her, though the pug propensity to portliness was always a lingering health threat. Mind you, the puppy-like way she bounced at Moose, looking for attention he granted with the kind of kingly poise and presence of his particular breed made me grin. “Sorry not to bring her to the lodge for more play time. Things are busy.”

  Bill just nodded, about as ponderous in his movements as the big Newfoundland. The two really were suited to each other. It was nice to see the large man smile more than frown, how he’d blossomed and forgiven himself for the disaster of his past. I was happy he’d found a welcoming home in Reading and that he was accepting he’d paid in full for the accident that put him in prison, both literally and mentally.

  “They are.” He gestured at the foyer proper, waiting for me to precede him before following me toward the kitchen. “For all of us. That mayor of ours, Fee. I feel for her. She’s done so much. I wish there was more we could do for her.”

  Huh. I hadn’t realized Bill was in touch with what was going on. Then again, Reading was a small town and it wasn’t hard to get caught up in the drama of the election pending. “It was nice of you to offer to help Dan this weekend.” I wasn’t in the mood to talk about Olivia right now.

  “He’s an old buddy.” Bill’s big shoulders rose and fell while he held the door for me and waited for Petunia to tick-tick-tick her way across the hardwood floor, reminding me I had to file her claws before too long. “How’s your mom?”

  She looked up as we entered the kitchen, beaming a smile at him as if she hadn’t just chased off the lecherous attentions of Grayson Gallinger. “Bill, how lovely.” She waved before gesturing at the big pot in front of her. “You two come taste this, will you?”

  Her suggestion she was going to create subpar fare had clearly gone out the window. Like Mom could ever cook and not be divine. We were sipping from offered spoons, Bill muttering his appreciation for Mom’s cooking like he always did, when Dan appeared at the door.

  “About time you got here.” His gruff tone was softened by the beaming smile on his face.

  Bill waved, but did nothing to move away from Mom’s taste test. “Delicious, Lucy,” he said. “But I think I should test it one more time, just in case…?”

  Snort.

  Mom laughed before filling a small cup with enough to tide him over until dinner. Bill saluted me with it, bobbing his big, shaggy head to Mom. Moose, his manners much more polished than Petunia’s, hovered just outside the perimeter of the cooking area, his huge, pink tongue slobbering while he drooled his giant need for just a taste. Naturally, my pug sat practically on Mom’s feet, the shameless beggar.

  “Sorry about earlier, Lucy.” Dan’s embarrassment told me he was aware of what happened with Grayson. Had the corporate jerk actually complained? We’d just see about that. “I hope you’re okay?”

  Mom’s green eyes showed nothing but cold confidence. “I handled it,” she said. “And I’m happy to continue handling it, Dan. With more force next time, if necessary.”

  Bill’s head tilt matched Moose’s as he spooned out a helping of the stew, letting the big dog eat off the cutlery despite Mom’s tsk of disapproval. “Everything okay?”

  “Let’s just say one of the guests thinks his money allows him the privilege of my mother’s attention.” Snarl.

  I might as well have told Bill Grayson murdered small puppies before eating their still-beating hearts. The frown that settled over his wide, plain face, the way his big shoulders hunched and the grunt of pure fury that escaped him triggered even mild-mannered Moose. The giant Newfoundland growled softly under his breath, shaking his massive head in response.

  “He’ll not be doing that again,” Bill said before turning and stalking from the kitchen.

  The distress on Dan’s face was, to be totally honest, priceless and I’ll cherish it the rest of my days. Though Bill hadn’t actually committed murder the night of the car accident that claimed a life, I was shocked to discover he might actually be capable when it came to Mom. Which led me to a rather uncomfortable and yet gleeful conclusion.

  “Mom,” I said, dragging out that word while I leaned against the counter, watching Dan scramble after Bill and his burly dog.

  “Yes, dear,” she said, prim and proper, cheeks flushed.

  “Does Bill Saunders have a crush on you?” Because that was what it looked like.

  My mother batted at me, her face tight with irritation. “Don’t you dare ever say such a thing.” She tapped the back of my hand with her wooden spoon. “He’s a dear man with a big heart and he’s been nothing but kind to me and your father. So you bite your tongue, Fiona Fleming.”

  I honestly didn’t know how I felt about it, though any lingering worries about my parents and their love for each other flitted to the surface of my mind while I took in her flustered response. It wasn’t the first or the last time I’d have to face the fact Mom was an attractive woman. Hadn’t I just dealt with her fighting off the advances of said mogul about to be pulverized by the looming form of Bill Saunders? Did Mom return Bill’s feelings?

  “Just leave it alone, Fee.” Mom sighed softly. “The poor man’s been through so much. I don’t have the heart to hurt him. And he’s never been anything but a gentleman.” She met my eyes with hers full of compassion. “Your father is fully
aware Bill’s holding out some unrequited feelings, all right?”

  I hugged her, my own empathy awake and aware. “Mom,” I said, “I love you so much. You’re amazing, you know that?”

  She hugged me back before sighing. “All we can do is our best,” she said. “And that includes not hurting others even when maybe it would be best in the long run if we did.”

  Dinner came and went without further drama, though Grayson’s quiet grumbling told me Bill had either gotten his point across or the man was still nervous of Mom’s recent rejection. Whatever the case, it meant a rather uneventful meal followed by an equally sedate evening in which the men gathered in the study and drank whiskey, smoking cigars on the front deck. Grayson’s continual insults thrown at Caleb, Eddie and even the reluctantly participating Ryan who seemed offended by dirt, fresh air and anything remotely uncivilized did nothing for my temper. The group of men at least retired early enough I was relieved I didn’t have to deal with drunken issues.

  I went to bed after Mom, Petunia at my side, so used to being the last one in it was kind of impossible for me to fall asleep until the house was quiet. Tough, though, since this wasn’t my place and the familiar creaks, groans and nighttime whisperings of my bed and breakfast had no resemblance to the noises of this place. While the renovations had updated much of the building, the old house still gave me the creeps.

  I woke several times, the clock telling me I’d barely fallen asleep before twitching awake again, only to dose off a few more minutes. Finally, with a jerking gasp, I sat upright, positive I was being watched, heart pounding, Petunia whining beside me as she licked her chops and stared up at me as if I’d lost my mind.

  It was hard to resist the urge not to get up and wander the halls and downstairs, to check for intruders. Instead, I talked myself down after a quick drink of water and a snuggle with my pug, forcing myself to relax despite my continuing unease.

  Definitely the last time I agreed to do anything for anyone else who wasn’t a friend first.

  ***

  Chapter Thirteen

  My head felt achy, stomach slightly unsettled when I rose at 6AM, my usual time. Mom was heading for the kitchen when I caught up with her, her own face a bit pinched and pale.

  “Trouble sleeping?” I hugged her around her shoulders, parting ways with her at the foyer as I followed Petunia out.

  Mom nodded, yawning behind one hand. “I miss your father.” She smiled then and left me to start breakfast while I padded out into the cold November morning to watch over my pug as she snuffled her way across the parking lot to a patch of browning grass.

  Sounds of movement inside alerted me we weren’t the only ones awake as I returned, Grayson stomping his way downstairs with his khakis and camouflage making his bulky body look more like a target than a hunter. Dan followed close behind, Bill on his heels, Moose hopping his big body down to the main floor to trot to me, head butting my leg for a scratch.

  “Could you please ask Lucy to pack breakfast?” Dan didn’t even look at Grayson who scowled at the floor like someone broke his favorite toy. “We’re going to head out early and check for game.”

  Bill gave me a nod and a faint smile, tight enough I figured it was his idea to get them out of the building right away, almost grinning at the sleepy disgruntlement on Ryan’s face, the way Eddie seemed put out by the fact the two big, older men had taken over his business.

  Mom happily complied, sending me back out of the kitchen with omelet wraps stuffed with cheese, hash browns and sausage, enough prepared to feed a small army. I knew I’d be hearing a gripe from Ryan over the regular black coffee in the thermos. No half fat soy latte for him, the poor baby. Snort. I stood at the door and watched them go in a group, rifles draped over their arms, my ex looking like he held a particularly poisonous snake instead of a gun, about as comfortable with this experience as I was having him here.

  I truly hoped he’d get mud on his designer boots and maybe even tear the knee out of those $200 pants he thought made him look cool. Karma. Surely she was on my side.

  Caleb was the last to leave, lugging a giant bag of supplies like some kind of beast of burden. I caught his arm and shook my head, offering a sympathetic smile while the others vanished around the corner of the building.

  “You don’t have to take that kind of crap from anyone, Caleb,” I said.

  He inhaled and exhaled in a slow, steady breath that told me he was barely holding it together. “It’s my job,” he finally said with a fake smile that I matched in solidarity.

  “CALEB!” That was Eddie, yelling his name. Because you yelled at pack animals, apparently. “GET UP HERE!”

  He eye rolled but hustled, grunting as he lugged whatever it was in that giant bundle of bags. I didn’t bother trying to convince him otherwise. No job was worth that kind of treatment.

  When I turned back to get to work cleaning the rooms upstairs, the static burst from the CB radio caught my attention and lured me into the office behind the front desk. I triggered the receiver, jiggling the knobs despite not knowing what I was doing and likely making reception worse, while speaking into the heavy hand piece.

  “Black Bear Hunting and Fishing,” I said. Sure, it wasn’t Petunia’s, but I was pro enough using the business name was habit.

  “Fee.” I knew that voice, unable to stop the smile that instantly brightened my life.

  “Crew.” I missed him with a poignant poke to my heart. “Everything okay?”

  “Just checking in.” At least, I think that’s what he said. His words distorted slightly before crackling and snapping cut him off a moment.

  “We’re fine,” I said, hoping I got through. Stupid radio. “One night down, one to go.”

  “Roger th—engineers missed—dam tonight instead—sure you’re—on Sunday?”

  Um, yeah. “Didn’t catch most of that,” I said. “Can you do me a favor if you can hear me? Frieda Tibbets was here, making trouble.” Probably didn’t need to bring it up and since she’d been with Olivia, maybe it was just stirring the pot to tell him, but I wanted this weekend to go smoothly so I could just get home already. “Can you stop in and check on her?”

  “—will do—rumor Blackstone—need to worry about?”

  I ran through those words while my heart skipped a bit. So he’d heard about Blackstone’s involvement and wanted to know if he should worry? Should he?

  “Ask me tomorrow night,” I said. “And remind me never to do this again, okay?”

  I heard chuckling, though when he spoke again he sounded concerned even through the crackling on the line. “—your own business,” he said. “Let me—Blackstone—hear me?”

  Yeah, not hard to tell what that was about even with the missing words. “Have to go, talk to you tomorrow.”

  “10-4. Miss you.”

  He had to go there. And it had to come through loud and clear, right? Sigh. “Miss you, too. ‘Bye.”

  The line went quiet and I sat there for a long moment, wishing I hadn’t cut him off so soon. Thing was, he knew better than to tell me to mind my own business by now. Though I knew he was likely more worried than usual since he wasn’t up here on the mountain with me. Still, what did he think I was going to do exactly? Create a scene? Demand to know what Blackstone Corporation was and what their interest in Reading was about? Did he?

  Wow, he knew me well enough he really could be my boyfriend.

  Then again, I hadn’t poked that particular bear just yet, so maybe I wasn’t going to after all. Right, because I was known for my propensity to let things go.

  It took all of an hour to clean and prep the rooms occupied last night. I’d gotten pretty efficient over the years, so the small task wasn’t really a strain on my skills. So, in short order, I found myself restless and looking for something to do.

  Mom wasn’t in the mood for bored Fee. “Out!” She sent me, Petunia on her leash, away from her domain while she whipped up some delicious smelling concoction for lunch, I could only assume.
The giant bowl of batter she prepped made my mouth water. Her chocolate cake was unparalleled in my opinion and the batch she’d mixed was no slouch. It was clear from the way she smacked my fingers with her ever-present wooden spoon she didn’t appreciate my approval, though, and I laughed as I stole one last finger full (yes, unhygienic, but the men at camp weren’t exactly here to judge me, were they?) before dodging outside with Petunia for a breath of fresh air and maybe something to keep me occupied until the hunters returned.

  The crisp November morning made me wish I’d brought a heavier jacket and scarf. It was silly of me to forget the mountains were colder than Reading proper, and the fact that my short jaunts from Sammy’s Coffee to Crew’s office then Petunia’s did little to prepare me for the cold of a longer time spent outdoors. Yes, our lakeside runs continued, but jogging had the effect of keeping me warm whereas the stroll my pug could tolerate wasn’t exactly on the same level of exercise.

  I blew on my cold fingers, tucking them into the pockets of my jacket, debating turning back as Petunia huffed and tugged on her harness, heading off the road and into the yard behind the retreat main building. I let her have her choice of direction, meandering, mind wandering, still tired from my lack of sleep. It was hard not to think about Crew, or to let my struggling thoughts spin toward Ryan. To ponder the enigma that was Blackstone or the sweet but misguided feelings my friend Bill seemed to have for my mother. I often found as I made my way through my day, usually on my own or in the company of the same pug who snuffle snorted her way around the property, I had the most profound conversations with myself. Almost like being alone with my thoughts allowed me a kind of meditative rhythm I had become rather addicted to.

  Mind you, there were times being alone with my thoughts wasn’t as pleasant as all that. But with the cold of late fall and the fresh mountain air surrounding me, the quiet peace of this place about as zen as anywhere I’d ever been, I found myself unwinding rather than twisting into a knot and was grateful by the time Petunia came to a grumbling halt next to a bush she needed to explore further for this bit of peace before the men returned and reminded me why I didn’t want to be here in the first place.