by Lynn Cahoon
She was surprised to see he’d pulled his van into her driveway and was walking toward her with her mail. “Good afternoon.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you today since the restaurant is open, so I was starting to make a call slip.” He handed her a clipboard and a pen. “Looks like the county is taking evidence on rezoning for the new soybean plant. I’m sure going to miss you all out here. I love this part of my route.”
“I haven’t agreed to sell yet.” She signed the form and handed the clipboard back. “I just can’t see letting Nona’s place go. Even for a lot of money.”
“Money comes and goes, but family? That’s forever.” He glanced up at the house. “Your grandmother and Mrs. Potter, they were here when I first started this route almost twenty years ago. I was hoping you all would still be here for my retirement. I was going to wear one of those top hats and hand out cupcakes or something on my last day.”
Angie smiled as she took the mail. “You may still get your wish, Frank. I’ve got to go call my lawyer and see what we’re doing about this. I think they’re charging me every time they see my phone number come up on their phone display.”
“Lawyers. They have to make their money somewhere, I guess.” Frank climbed back into his van. “See you next week. The wife and I are celebrating our anniversary at your place. Looking forward to seeing what all the hype is about. But if you cook half as good as your grandmother, I know I’ll enjoy it.”
Angie watched him go, standing in the cold, taking in Nona’s, no, her home. You didn’t give up on home, no matter what was going on. She decided to do some research on the old meat packing plant. Maybe if she found something that made it more attractive to the soybean plant owners, she could sway their minds. Otherwise, she was going to be rezoned out of her house.
She worked on her computer, taking notes about the land around her property and looking for any historical significance of the area. Was there something here that would keep developers from being able to dig? There were Indian petroglyphs in Celebration Park in the Snake River Canyon, but that was miles away.
She made another note. What kind of water drain off did these kinds of plants need? Was there any problem with the plant polluting the area? And just because she was desperate, she wrote down, were the coyotes that had been seen in the area protected? She had worried about Precious’s safety when she was little because a coyote band had killed the goat’s mother down in the river canyon, but Ian had told her that they didn’t come this far into civilization.
She sighed. Everything she’d written down was a long shot. But at this point, that might be all she had. She closed the laptop and put that and her notebook away in the kitchen desk. Then she went to get ready for work.
Since she was already in a bad mood, when she got to the restaurant, she shut herself in her office and worked on the accounting. Doing math just wasn’t her thing. She was glad she trusted their accountant, because if she had to do all of this, having the County Seat wouldn’t be worth the hassle. Trust but verify was her motto, so she spent a few hours a week going over the books and making sure everything seemed correct. Then Felicia did the same. It was their name on the door, and if they made a mistake and didn’t pay the right amount of taxes, saying the bookkeeper did it didn’t hold much weight with the tax man.
But she kept the pain point down to a minimum and always rewarded her financial stewardship with some recipe-building time the next day. Except tomorrow she was going to go talk to the enemy. Maybe he’d be able to give her some insight she could use against the new lawyer assigned to the land development project. A girl could only hope.
She closed her computer and moved to grab her chef coat. The door to her office flew open, and Bleak stormed in.
“You said you wouldn’t tell Maggie.”
Angie studied her. The girl was red-faced, like she’d run there from the Brown home. “Calm down. I didn’t tell her what was going on, just that you were worried about the trial and your aunt.”
Bleak’s anger faded for a second. She took in a deep breath. “Then why is she asking me if I want to see a shrink? I’m not crazy.”
“No, you’re not crazy, but you are under a lot of stress. Hell, just being a teenager is hard enough. But you’re getting straight As, taking college-level AP classes, and working almost a full schedule. Then you add in the trial. Talking to a counselor about what’s going on might not be a bad idea.” Angie could see the girl calming down as she spoke.
“So, she doesn’t think I’m crazy?”
“Maggie? Why would she? A lot of people go to counseling. Sometimes they use their support groups, like their church, or people who are going through the same type of things. Some people go to counselors to talk about their situation and their futures. Maggie probably just wants you to have someone you can talk to who won’t judge anything you say.” Angie took a breath and decided to share. “My Nona sent me to counseling after my folks died. I was having some issues fitting in at school. I was mad that everything was still the same, even though my world had blown up when my folks died. It didn’t seem fair.”
“I didn’t know you lost your parents.” Bleak picked up a cookbook that Angie had bought over Christmas and thumbed through it.
“Just before my freshman year. Then I moved here to live with my grandmother. All my friends. My parents. My life. It was all gone.” Angie leaned against the wall. “You must feel the same way, moving up here from Utah.”
“It’s nice here. I mean, I loved my family, but I was responsible for a lot. I feel bad that now Karen is probably having to do everything. She’s my younger sister.” Bleak closed the book. “Maggie said something that made me think. She said that you have to put your own oxygen mask on in an airplane incident before you help others. I think it means I have to take care of myself first, then I can help my sister.”
“I think that’s exactly what she meant.” Angie nodded to the book. “Do you want to borrow that and try out some of the recipes? I brought it in for staff to look it over.”
“Can I?” Bleak touched the book’s cover in awe. “I mean, I’m not really kitchen staff.”
“You’re part of the family. And for some reason, I think there might be a chef hiding inside you. And Maggie would love working with you on a project. I think she’s a little lonely since Allen works a lot.”
Bleak nodded. “She and I have been baking cookies all month. This would be something more substantial. I’m beginning to like soups.”
Bleak had announced to the family table when she’d just joined the team that soups weren’t her favorite food. Maybe now that she saw how lovely a soup could be when done right, she’d changed her mind. “No food deserves to be banished from our table forever. You just haven’t found a way that met your taste buds.”
Bleak stared at her. “Even liver?”
Angie laughed. Bleak would have to pick the one thing Angie didn’t like at all. “I have to admit, I haven’t found a way to like liver. Yet.”
“Good, because I was beginning to think you were crazy or one of those people who always says they like everything, but really, they don’t. That’s being false, right?” Bleak picked up the book and put it in her backpack.
“Yes, it is.” Angie watched as the girl made her way to the employee area to hang up her backpack and get ready for the day. She was really glad Bleak had come to be part of their River Vista family. And she sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn’t leave too soon. Not until she had on her own oxygen mask.
Chapter 8
Ian was in the kitchen, talking to Dom and cooking bacon, when Angie woke up that Friday morning. She could hear the tone but not the words and Dom’s responses every once in a while. Dom liked it when Ian talked to him like he was a person or something. Angie wondered exactly how much of the conversation her dog really understood. If she’d been a character in a novel, her dog might just be abl
e to talk back. But as it was, she was just a regular human. Yet she, too, had long conversations with the Saint Bernard.
She showered and dressed, then headed downstairs to join the conversation. Today they were going to go talk to Jon and hopefully find a clue to where Susan was. Angie just hoped she was still alive by the time they found her.
When she got downstairs, she realized Ian and Dom weren’t alone. Sheriff Allen Brown sat at her table drinking coffee and eating eggs and bacon. Ian stood at the stove and didn’t see her come into the room, but Allen did. And he laughed.
“Ian, your girlfriend’s awake.” He set his fork down and nodded to Angie. “Good morning. I was beginning to think I was going to have to set off my sirens to get you out of bed.”
“It was a long night at the restaurant.” Angie took the cup of coffee Ian handed her and gave him a quick kiss before she sat down. “Since the law is sitting at my kitchen table, I suspect something bad happened?”
“No one died, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Allen wiped his mouth and handed the empty plate to Ian. “Thanks for the breakfast, son.”
Angie watched as he pulled out his notebook.
“Do you want something to eat? I have bacon going, and I can make you eggs.” Ian smiled at her as he walked past with the plate in hand. “And besides heating up food you send home with me, that’s the extent of my cooking skills.”
“I’m fine with coffee right now.” Angie nodded toward Allen, who was studying his notes. “I’ll tell you if I’m hungry in a couple of minutes.”
“Like I said, no one is dead.” He picked up his pen. “Your cook, Nancy Gowan, her house was broken into last night while she was at work. She says her ex-husband must have done it.”
“So, why are you talking to me and not him?” Angie eyed him to watch for a reaction but got nothing. “You’re sure Nancy’s okay?”
“She’s fine. Nothing she can see was taken. She thinks Mr. Gowan did it to mess with her. He likes playing the ‘I’m watching you’ game. At least according to Mrs. Gowan.” He looked up from his notebook. “What do you know about her ex?”
Angie leaned back into the chair and blew out a breath that made her bangs flip on her forehead. “I know he left her in a lot of debt. And now, knowing that he actually has money, I think less of him.”
“How do you know he has money?” Allen studied her.
Angie sipped her coffee before answering. “He came into the restaurant a few days ago. He asked if Nancy could come out of the kitchen to talk to him. Since that’s an odd request, I assumed it was an old friend. I watched with Felicia, well, because Nancy hasn’t dated anyone since the divorce and she’s a really great person. She deserves a great guy.”
“And her ex wasn’t a great guy?”
Angie shook her head. “He basically threatened her. She told him to leave her and the kids alone. But I could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t hurt by her words. He was enjoying the fight. Like he knew he was going to win, no matter what.”
“That’s the impression I got, too, when I pulled him out of his hotel bed at two this morning. He seemed to be challenging me to find something that proved it was him.” Allen sipped his coffee. “I know it’s not Christian to judge, but I got a bad feeling about the guy. Your assistant is helping her change the locks this morning.”
“Felicia’s not my assistant. She’s a co-owner.” Angie was surprised that Felicia hadn’t called her, but then again, she kept the phone downstairs, since she didn’t sleep well anyway. She didn’t need the phone’s bells and whistles keeping her awake.
“Honey, he’s talking about Estebe, not Felicia. Nancy called Estebe, who came over and slept at the house last night. I’m not sure how Felicia’s going to take that, so you may want to wait for him to tell her.”
“Felicia trusts him.” Angie considered the steps they’d taken to keep Nancy safe. “Did you arrest him?”
“Charles Gowan has an alibi for the time in question. His new wife said they were together all night. Either she’s a few marbles short, or he’s got her kowtowed, as well.” He stood and finished his coffee. “I didn’t think you’d know much, but I was hoping. Sometimes these guys mess up and say stupid stuff, thinking they’re going to get away with it. If you talk to him, let him hang himself, okay?”
“Sounds lovely, but I’m pretty sure he won’t be talking to me anytime soon. I told him he was a jerk.” Angie stood and refilled her coffee cup from the pot. “He’s this huge developer, and Nancy’s working three jobs just to keep the lights on and pay off his debts? What kind of a man does that?”
“He’s a developer?” Allen paused at the doorway.
“That’s what he said. He told Nancy he was in town to seal the deal on something.” Angie looked at Allen and Ian, who were both looking at her. “What?”
“Weirder things have happened,” Allen muttered. “I’ve got to go to work. Explain what we’re thinking to her, will you, Ian?”
“Let me walk you out first.” Ian followed Allen out to the police cruiser, and Angie watched through the kitchen window as they chatted for a few minutes. When Ian came back inside, she turned away from the window and leaned against the counter.
“What don’t I get? And what were you talking to your uncle about?”
“Do you want some eggs? I do a mean scramble.” He went to the fridge and got out the eggs and bacon.
“If I say yes, are you going to talk to me?” Angie watched as he got down a bowl and started cracking eggs.
Ian set the bowl aside. Then, wiping his hands on a towel, he walked over and took the cup out of her hands. Setting it down on the counter, he put his arms around her. “What Uncle Allen and I were thinking is maybe this Gowan dude is the developer behind the soybean plant. And he’s wondering if this guy is somehow attached to the other murder too. The girl was from the same town in California where Nancy said Charles and Jane lived. It might be a coincidence, but we’re just going to keep a close eye on you for a few days.”
“Me? Why?” Angie started to move away, but Ian tightened his grip. Fear flowed through her as she studied his too-serious face. “Ian, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m glad. You need to take this seriously, Angie. If this woman is connected to the development somehow, like Susan was by her husband, maybe you’re the only thing standing in this guy’s way.” He watched her face as the realization hit her. “Yeah.”
“You think he might go after me to get the house.” Angie lifted a hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat speed up. “I think I need to sit down.”
“It’s probably not an issue, but if you don’t mind, I’m going to be spending some time with you for the foreseeable future.” He took her arm and walked her to the table, where she sank into a chair.
Dom, sensing something was wrong, came over and laid his massive head on her lap and stared up at her. His big brown eyes were questioning. She stroked his back, trying to think this through. “Tell me more about the break-in at Nancy’s. Nothing was taken?”
“The neighbor saw the lights on and thought one of Nancy’s kids had come home from their sitters early. Nancy’s sister watches the kids while she works. I guess the oldest had been sneaking out and meeting up with her friends, so the neighbor went over to see what was going on. She’s friends with Nancy.” Ian set a glass of water in front of her, then went back to the stove to cook.
“Of course, she is. Nancy is one of the nicest people you’d ever meet. She’s active in her women’s group at church, volunteers at the kids’ schools, and she cooks at the women’s shelter once a week. The woman is a saint.” Angie took a sip of her water, her mind reeling with the information. “So she went over and found the intruder? Can’t she identify him?”
“He pushed his way past her when she called out at the front door. I guess she has a key.” Ian put bread in the toaster. “The guy wore all b
lack and a ski mask, so Christy, that’s the neighbor’s name, couldn’t identify him.”
“But Nancy thinks it’s her ex.” Angie stood and took the toast out of the toaster and put more bread in. Then she grabbed a plate and buttered the two slices that came out. She brought a second plate out and looked at him. “You are eating with me, right?”
“I am. I told Uncle Allen that I’d wait for you.” Ian stirred the eggs. “Do you want bacon? I feel like I haven’t timed this meal right. And yes, Nancy swore it was him. A ‘gut feeling’ was how she put it.”
“I think she’s right, but I can’t tell you why.” Angie took the bacon packet and put it back into the fridge. Then she paused. “Unless you wanted more?”
“Bacon? No, I’m good.” He dished out eggs, half on each plate, as Angie grabbed the last two slices of toast and buttered them. “Have you thought about not going to visit Jon Ansley?”
“No. I’m going. No one’s going to scare me into hiding away in my house. I’ll let you follow me around because I like being with you. But I’m not changing anything else. It’s not fair. And besides, I’m curious what he wants to show me. Aren’t you?”
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” He brought the dishes over to the table.
“Good thing I don’t have a cat.” She smiled over at Dom, who’d moved back to his bed, convinced that his owner was just fine.
“Let’s get breakfast done, and then we need to take off to go talk to your friendly neighborhood killer lawyer.” He glanced at her water. “Do you need some milk to drink?”
“I’m fine.” Angie started eating her breakfast. “The only word out of those we don’t know that accurately describes Jon is killer. He could just be a jerk and have a wife who gave up on the marriage and left him.”
“If you ever get that mad at me, I hope you at least tell me you’re leaving. I’d hate to be in that guy’s shoes if he’s on the up-and-up.”