by Sam Cheever
His smile softened, and his gaze gained heat. “Hey, beautiful. You look positively delicious.”
As it happened, I’d slipped and fallen into a flirty, flowery cotton dress on my way out the door to meet him. I might have been a bit underdressed as the sun dipped slowly behind the trees, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be cold for long.
Judging by the steamy look Hal was giving me, falling into the dress had been a happy accident.
“This old thing.”
He laughed, dodging backward as Caphy, with the single-minded purpose only a pibl can have, vaulted into the air between us, yipping with excitement. “Okay, you win, beauty.” He lifted the hand he held behind his back and showed her an orange tennis ball.
Caphy loves balls, and she seems to have a particular affection for those of the orange variety. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the smell of the dye in them or something. I didn’t think dogs could even see color.
My beautiful blonde pitty didn’t need to see the color. She barely even looked at the ball. As soon as she saw what it was, she was off and running toward the woods, turning her head with every other step to see when Hal launched it.
He didn’t disappoint. His arm snapped out and the tennis ball flew high and long, into the copse of evergreens that towered over us in the near distance.
We watched her dive into the trees, grinning at her antics. I yelped as Hal reached out and snagged me around the waist, dragging me in for a kiss that made my toes curl in my flats.
A couple of minutes later, my mind muzzy and my body warm despite being underdressed, Hal broke the kiss and sighed as I rested my head on his chest. “I’ve missed you guys.”
I bit my lip against the urge to tell him not to leave again. It was the perfect antidote to missing us when he went back home to Indianapolis. But I’d promised myself I wouldn’t pressure him.
If he wanted to be with us more, he’d make the decision himself.
If he didn’t…well…my pressuring him wasn’t going to have a happy result. For either of us.
“Deep thoughts,” he said, rubbing a fingertip along my jaw.
I forced a smile. “Nope. Not when I have pie waiting for me.” I glanced around hopefully. “Where is it?”
He dropped his arm around my shoulders and we started walking away from the cars, toward the dilapidated cabin beyond the trees. “You’ll see.”
A soft breeze, scented with the smell of rich, black earth and pine needles, slipped past. I shivered slightly as something dark slid through me.
Hal rubbed my arm. “Are you cold?”
“No. I’m fine.” But I didn’t mind when he continued to rub his hand along my arm.
“Fall took a while to get here, but I don’t think it will be here for long.”
“No, it usually isn’t, “ I agreed. “Indiana seems to have given up on having four seasons. We pretty much just go from summer to winter and then back to summer again.”
A soft crashing sound announced Caphy’s return back through the piles of fallen leaves. She didn’t even look at me. She shot like a rocket straight to Hal.
“Drop it,” he told her. She worked the ball in her powerful jaws for a moment, clearly reluctant to let it go, and then finally dropped it slowly to the ground. Still, when he reached to pick it up, she dodged forward, tail wagging manically, and seemed to be struggling to keep herself from snatching it back.
Hal’s hand closed over the soggy ball, and she flew away from him, tongue lolling.
“Ready?” he asked.
She barked, spinning around to grin at him before taking off like a shot. The ball sailed high and long again, disappearing behind a line of trees that were pretty enough for a painting. Dressed in fall colors of yellow, red and orange, the trees swayed gently with the breeze, depositing a soft rain of dry leaves over us as we moved past. “I’m dying to know why we’re here.”
Hal nodded. “I know.”
I smacked his arm when he didn’t elaborate.
He chuckled. “One more minute. You can wait that long, can’t you?”
“Only because there’s pie.”
We walked in companionable silence for another minute, until the cabin came into view. The dark feeling swept through me again, quick as a thought, and my memories went reluctantly back to my last interaction with the cabin’s owner. “I really hope Uncle Dev’s not going to be on the other side of that cabin door.”
Hal shook his head. The look he gave me was kind. “He’s not here.”
Devon Little wasn’t really my uncle. He’d been my father’s friend. They’d grown up together…worked together…and had been inseparable for most of their lives.
I’d known Devon for as long as I could remember.
Except I’d never really known him. I’d figured that out when a dead body turned up on my property, and he’d proven that his secrets were more important to him than I was. “Good.” Then I frowned. “So, why are we here? I thought the cabin was for sale.”
He gave me an enigmatic smile and tugged me into motion again. As we passed the rusty, broken down still where Uncle—I had to stop calling him that—Devon used to make his killer moonshine, I realized something was different.
The yard around the cabin was clean. No more chunks of rusty metal or pieces of broken glass and wood. The bushes had been trimmed and the leaves cleared from the front, a curving sidewalk of paving stones leading us to the front door.
“Nice,” I said, pointing to the stones. “The Realtor’s done a great job improving the curb appeal. Hal grinned, pulling open a brand-new storm door and whistling for Caphy.
She came loping toward us with the ball in her mouth, and bolted past Hal into the cabin. As he pushed the newly painted wood door into the interior of the home, I saw the warm glow of light flickering against the walls and floor.
I grabbed my cell phone.
“What are you doing?” Hal asked.
“Calling the fire department. I think the cabin’s on fire.”
Hal chuckled, tugging the phone from my hand. “Come on.”
I stopped just inside the door, my awed gaze fixing on the round, wooden table across the room, which held two settings of fine china with silverware. A bottle of wine rested inside a bucket of ice. Two wine glasses sat next to it.
Silver candleholders held flickering tapers, the glow dancing over the warm wood of the floor and walls.
Across from the door, on the far wall, was a big stone fireplace which also held a fire. The sweet smell of burning wood wafted through the space, making it feel homey and safe.
A short leather couch faced the fireplace, and in front of it, repurposed iron and wood boxes held a large tray that was finished in a reddish-gold stain that caught the flickering light of the fat candles arranged on its surface and turned it gold.
The aged beam mantle held another cluster of fat candles. Two more burned brightly on the stone hearth.
On either end of the couch were matching upholstered chairs in a deep, rich red, the fabric covering knobby and inviting.
“Wow,” I told him. I shook my head. “Dev’s place looks great. But I don’t understand. Why are we here?”
He walked over and poured champagne into the two glasses, handing me one. “To have dinner.”
I slanted him a look and he tapped his glass against mine. “To christen the place.”
I continued to stare at him for a moment longer, and then it finally sunk in. “You…” The words didn’t want to leave my mouth. I frowned, sipped the golden, bubbly liquid in my glass to stall for time, and then tried again. “You…” Nope.
“I bought this place.”
I continued to look at him, mute. I didn’t really know how to react. Joy warred with irritation in my heart. On the one hand, his buying a home in Deer Hollow was terrific. It meant I’d see him more. It meant he was going to be right next door. It might even mean he was thinking that what we had was worth investing in. On the other hand, he hadn’t even talked to
me about it. Wasn’t that something he should have done? Okay, we’d never talked about being a couple. Not really. We’d just enjoyed our time together. We’d kept it loose. Easy. But this…
“You’re very quiet,” he said, his handsome face starting to reflect concern.
I shrugged. “I can’t believe you did all this without saying anything.”
He nodded, settled the wine glass onto the table, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I know. It probably seems like I was sneaking around behind your back…”
“Well, you were, weren’t you?”
He winced. “I prefer to think of it as keeping a temporary secret. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well,” I said, settling my glass next to his. “You certainly did that.”
“You’re not happy about this.” It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t really good at hiding my feelings.
“I’m not sure what I am. Right now I’m feeling annoyed. I’ll have to think about that for a bit and decide if that feeling is fair. In this moment, I think it is.”
He reached out and touched my shoulder. “I understand.”
Nodding, I called to Caphy. She jumped off the couch and trotted toward me, the tennis ball still clutched in her mouth. I pulled it out and gave it to him. It squished with slobber when I put it into his hand.
I fought a smile as he pulled a face.
“I think we should go.” He didn’t try to stop me as I headed toward the door. I was a little surprised by that. He didn’t follow or call out to me as Caphy and I headed down the sidewalk and into the trees.
I was disappointed by that. But I couldn’t really fault him for it. I was the one who was making a big thing out of his surprise, turning it into something negative.
I still wasn’t sure if that was fair. I’d need to give myself some time to figure it out. And I couldn’t think about his feelings while I did.
That would drag me too far off course.
My cell rang as I pulled up to my house. I answered as Caphy leaped out and ran happily toward the pond. “No swimming!” I called out to her.
She didn’t appear to hear me. I knew that was on purpose. My pitty has a serious hearing problem. She seriously doesn’t hear me when she doesn’t want to.
I checked the ID and was disappointed it wasn’t Hal. “Hey, Arno.”
“Joey.” As usual, the deputy sheriff was a man of as few words as he could get away with.
“What’s up?”
“I have a report of a missing person.”
I dropped down on the steps leading to my front porch and watched Caphy dance around the mucky edge of the pond. She liked to chase the three-foot-long fish that taunted her from the shallow water. I was going to have to hose off her feet and legs before she could go inside.
With my thoughts on Caphy’s antics, it took me a moment to realize Arno had been speaking to me. “I’m sorry, what was that? Caphy’s barking at that giant fish again and I didn’t hear.”
“I said there’s a local real estate agent missing. Her name’s Sellers.”
“Penney Sellers?” I asked, frowning.
“That’s her. Apparently, she left word at her office that she was coming out to your place. Nobody’s seen or heard from her since.”
“She was here. I sent her packing. That was only a couple of hours ago, Arno. She could just be running late.”
“I told them the same thing. But, apparently, she missed a closing and that’s unheard of for Ms. Sellers. She’s kind of…” He hesitated as if looking for the right word.
“A shark?”
“I was going to say hungry…but your word works too.”
“I take it you’ve met her?”
“I thought everyone had met Ms. Sellers. She’s trying to get everybody in Deer Hollow to sell their homes.”
I stood up and covered the phone with my hand, whistling to Caphy. “I’m devastated. I thought I was special.”
“You are special, Joey. But just not with Ms. Sellers.”
I snickered. “I hope you find her. She was annoying, but I wouldn’t wish her any harm.”
He sighed. “I guess I need to take a drive out your way. Hopefully, she didn’t fall off the road at the park.”
Deer County State Park was a thousand-acre extravaganza of trees and rocky ridges, with the agitated ribbon of Fawn River cutting through its rugged geography. The steepest ridges, dotted with coyote dens and hugging the most violent rapids of the river, bounded Country Road 57 and had claimed more than a few careless drivers over the years.
“Good luck, Arno.”
“Yeah. Talk to you later.”
Chapter Three
“Come on Caphy, girl!” My dog continued to ignore me, her front feet sunk ankle deep in muck near the waterlily patch in the pond.
“Cacophony!”
The full name thing brought her head around. She gave her tail a tentative wag and then started barking again, her gaze riveted to something in the midst of the lily pads.
“Leave that poor fish alone,” I yelled, my footsteps taking on a stomping quality as she continued to ignore me.
“Bad girl, Caphy.” I rounded the pond and my gaze slid to the floating flowers, looking for signs of the big fish that roamed the pond like a shark. I didn’t see any sign of her watery nemesis.
But what I did see made my pulse stutter and shoot skyward.
A brown squirrel’s nest floated among the lilies, a few loose strands drifting away from the nest to cling to the velvet beauty of the flowers nearby. A few feet from the nest, a pale hand rested against a half-submerged log. The pale, slightly waterlogged knuckles appeared scraped and one stubby fingernail was broken below the quick.
With a yelp of recognition, I skidded to a halt.
Caphy stopped barking and dropped to her haunches, her pretty green gaze locked on me to gauge my reaction. I started to call her to me, but my throat closed on the words. I cleared it and tried again, my voice coming out in a husky wheeze.
She gave an uncertain wag of her tail and whined.
“Come on, girl. You need to listen to me.” I wasn’t sure what I was most worried about…the idea my dog would grab hold of the corpse in my pond, or the thought that it would sink into the muck and be lost.
I needed to call Arno. “Caphy, come!” The command came out harsher than I’d planned, and my dog’s head drooped, her ears flattening against her wide head. She whined pitifully.
“I’m sorry,” I told her gently. “Come see me, pretty girl.”
She pulled her muck-laden legs from the pond and slunk over, dropping to her belly at my feet. Her drama had the intended effect on me. Guilt turned my stomach to acid as I reached down and pulled her squishy face to mine, giving her a kiss in the wide space between her eyes. “That’s a good girl.”
Immediately appeased, Caphy jumped up and started hopping around me, grinning maniacally as I walked away from the pond, drawing her with me.
I dialed Arno’s number and waited for it to ring.
The call never went through.
Before he answered it, I heard the crunch of car tires on gravel and looked up to find his radio car rolling slowly along my drive.
I flagged him down and he stopped midway along the drive, climbing out of the car and striding toward me on long legs covered in tan uniform slacks.
He wore the big hat well, the brim shadowing his handsome face, which I knew would be taut with intensity. It was his cop face.
He spoke into his phone as he approached and disconnected before he got close enough for me to hear. He stopped beside me, bending slightly to give my dog a scratch between her ears. “Caphy girl.”
She swiped a wide tongue over his wrist in response.
He straightened, removing aviator sunglasses that hid his eyes and fixing me with the look I’d known I’d see. “Joey.”
“Arno,” I responded, falling into teasing mode by habit. But I immediately caught myself and pointed toward the pond. “I think
I’ve found your Penney Sellers.”
Arno’s intense gaze skimmed over the pond, landing on the floating corpse. He didn’t look surprised. “Looks like.” He frowned. “You didn’t muck up the scene, did you?”
I would have been shocked at the seemingly unsympathetic joke, but I knew he sometimes used humor to deal with the more gruesome aspects of his job. “Har. No, the muck was already there. But Caphy’s paw prints are embedded deeply in the scene. Do you want her to give you her prints so you can eliminate her as a suspect?”
His lips twitched slightly. “You’re assuming she’s not my main suspect in this.”
Caphy’s gaze went from Arno to me as we spoke, looking for all the world as if she was watching a tennis match.
“She had no motive,” I told him. “Unlike me, she didn’t really dislike the woman. Though I have no idea why.”
Arno lifted a golden eyebrow. “Do I need to look at you for this?”
“If you’re picking your suspect according to who doesn’t like her, you’re going to have a lot of suspects.”
He sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He glanced at Caphy. “Keep her here.”
I nodded as he moved over to the pond and crouched down near the edge, his gaze gliding over Penney Seller’s buoyant body and then toward the woods. He straightened a moment later and walked around the pond, his gaze scouring the ground as he walked.
He stopped about ten yards away and stared off into the woods, toward the road.
“You didn’t tell me why you stopped by,” I called out to him.
He ignored me for a moment and then pulled out his cell, making a phone call as he worked his way back to where Caphy and I waited. After he hung up, he finally looked at me, pulling the big, brown hat off his head and mopping his forehead with the sleeve of his uniform shirt. Though it was early Fall and the sun was low in the sky, it was still hot enough to bring a gloss to the skin of anybody who dared to move around very much. He jerked his head toward the woods. “I found Ms. Sellers’ car parked along Goats Hollow Road, through the woods there.”
“Do you suppose she slipped and fell in, hit her head on something?”
“I’d rather not speculate. The ME will do her work and then we’ll know.”