Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3

by Shawn McGuire

  “We didn’t get an answer at every door,” Atkins said, “but everyone who was home let us in to look for him. Page is a big guy, and the cottages are small. If he was in one of them, we would’ve found him.”

  That should have made me feel better. Instead, it just created more questions. What about the cottages where they didn’t get answers? He could have broken in and was hiding in one of them. He also had a way of hiding in plain sight. Or he could have left the village already. Was this part of his game? Slip into the village, torment me, and then leave? Now, I had to wonder if it really was him who’d left the cards.

  “It had to be him. I can’t even guess at who else it might be.” My mind spun. “I can’t think of anyone I interacted with here that I upset enough to . . .”

  My voice trailed off and Atkins, naturally, caught it. “What?”

  “Flavia Reed has been angry with me since the day I arrived here six months ago.” An image of Sugar sitting in the corner with Flavia and her group at The Inn popped into my mind. “One of the owners of the sweet shop also runs hot and cold with me.”

  I described Flavia’s cottage and one of the teams reported having searched there.

  “She let us in,” the mid-thirties deputy said and shook her head. “She had one question after another. Why did we think it was Page? Who said Page was in the village? Things like that. She was so interested in details about Page, we spent an extra-long time at her place.”

  That made it sound like if Donovan was in the village, she didn’t know about it. Flavia only interacted like that when she was in the dark.

  The team that covered the shops claimed no hesitation from any of the owners. “They all let us wander wherever we wanted. Even into their back rooms.”

  “We’ve done everything except search the woods,” Atkins said. “We can do that if you want us to, but that will require more planning. We wouldn’t be able to start until tomorrow.”

  “I’ll let you know.” With every “no” answer, more and more of my strength drained from my body. “If he was here, I think he’s gone again. This is a game to him, just like it has been from the start. We interacted for the first two months I was here, and I had no clue what he’d done. I knew I didn’t like the guy but never suspected him of anything illegal. He’s playing with me.”

  “If you honestly think he’s here, you need to be extra cautious,” Atkins warned. “Don’t be alone. The villagers know to be on the lookout for him and aren’t happy that he might be lurking around. They’re on your side and will help you.”

  That eased my mind more than I could say. In my gut, I knew most of the villagers were good people. It was amazing how just a few could ruin things for everyone.

  “I’m mostly concerned about Tripp right now.” Thank God River was staying with us. “If Donovan wants to do something to me, he’ll go for those I love first and save me for last.”

  Atkins stared at me and blinked. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “I won’t take chances. Meeka is always with me.” The Westie spun around with a bark of recognition from checking out something in the corner by the coffee maker. “She’ll alert me to trouble.”

  “We’re going to do a sweep of the circus grounds before we leave,” Atkins informed, “and stop at a few of the outlying cottages you told us about. I’ll be in touch if we find anything.”

  “I don’t expect to hear from you.” I gave him a tired smile. “Sorry to waste your time but thanks for coming.”

  “That’s what we’re here for. Call anytime.”

  I stood in the middle of my station after they’d left, deciding what to do next. I wasn’t ready to go home. I couldn’t deal with another fight with Tripp right now. Morgan and Briar, my usual go-to gals when I was upset, were too busy with Shoppe Mystique to comfort me. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with words of advice at the moment. I just wanted to disappear. Figuratively.

  Meeka stood at the front door, begging to go out, so I took her for a short walk down the Fairy Path, staying alert to my surroundings while weighing my options about what to do. I found myself in front of The Twisty Skein and thought of how I’d told Tripp I was going to take up knitting. I didn’t really want to knit, but there had to be something that would interest me.

  Ruby McLaughlin’s shop had a slightly different feel than the others in the village. It had the same stucco and beam outside, but she’d painted the stucco a deep parchment-ivory instead of crisp-white like the rest. Two bay windows, each made up of five rows of six little panes, bulged out of the front wall on either side of the entrance.

  I opened the door and poked my head in. “Are you still open?”

  “Winding down but yes, still open.” Ruby made a grand swooping gesture with her arm. “Come on in, Sheriff.”

  “Can Meeka come in too?”

  “If she wipes her paws.” Ruby laughed at herself. “Blue’s here. They can keep each other company.”

  Blue was here? Didn’t Atkins tell me she was up at the un-church? She never stayed in one place for long. Blue was a true community cat.

  The inside of The Twisty Skein reminded me a lot of Shoppe Mystique. It was a big open space paneled with wood planks. Thick wood beams added interest to the tall ceilings as well as structure to the roof. It was very homey and welcoming.

  “What can I help you find?” Ruby’s smile faded. “Or are you here on official business. I heard Donovan might be in the village.”

  It both comforted and upset me that the villagers were concerned about this. “We thought he might be, but if he was, the deputies couldn’t find him.”

  “Is he hiding?”

  I stared for a second at Ruby, her short, choppy white-gray hair caught my attention. I’d seen a person with either a white hat or white hair in the window at Agnes’ un-church. There were other people in the village with white hair and hats. Maybe Ruby or one of the other villagers had been there. It might have been Blue in the window. Or it could simply have been Deputy Atkins telling me about the Donovan lookalike in Duluth that made me think he was in the village and leaving me cards.

  “Have you ever been to the un-church?” I asked.

  The question caught Ruby off guard. She shook her head, her dangling turquoise earrings swaying as she did. “I’ve heard about it but never been there. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.” I moved away from the Donovan topic. Until I knew for sure that it was him, there was no sense upsetting people. “I was taking Meeka for a little walk and thought I’d stop in. I need something to keep me busy during the winter months.”

  “Good plan. Busy hands keep the brain working better.” She spread her thin arms wide and spun in a slow circle. “As you can see, I’ve got a variety of options.”

  Determined to make sure I chose just the right craft, Ruby asked a hundred questions while walking me around the shop. To the right of the front door was the yarn section. Bins stuffed with different kinds and colors of yarn formed a rainbow on the wall. A spinning wheel and a weaving loom also sat in this area.

  “That loom looks interesting.”

  “Oh, that’s a lot of fun. Honey is in the middle of a table runner right now and then Gardenia wants to make a rug for her hallway. Gardenia is crazy-fast on that thing. You should see her when she’s in the zone.” She waved her hands back and forth as though shoving yarn through the loom. “I can put you on the list after her, if you’d like. Looming gets popular in the winter. I’m going to set up another one once the Yule season ends.”

  That would get me out of the house and encourage socializing with the villagers. “Sure. Add me to the list.”

  To the left of the door was the painting section. Wooden shelves held rows of paints in small bottles, pots, and tubes. Blank canvases filled a large steamer trunk. Easels for sale or rent were propped in the corner. Another four-sided rack held sketchbooks, pencils, charcoal sticks, and other drawing necessities.

  Toward the back of the shop was
a small section of quilting fabrics and supplies. There were also beads, embroidery kits, modeling clay, and a wall of scrapbook paper. At the center of the building was a circular stone fireplace surrounded by comfy lounge chairs, each with its own table. What a perfect spot to sit and craft with friends.

  “Learning to paint is high on my list. I’ve got a nice set of watercolors I’ve never used.” I could picture myself in the great room creating images of the lake and the pine trees.

  “That,” Ruby said, “will take more than the few minutes we have tonight. How about sketching? Similar concept without needing quite so much instruction.”

  We sat in front of that gorgeous fireplace, and Ruby gave me a very basic lesson on sketching while Meeka and Blue played hide-and-seek. Ruby showed me that holding the pencil an inch or so from the end rather than near the tip would give me more freedom of movement. She explained that each pencil lead had a different hardness which determined the amount of color they would leave on the page. Pencils with harder graphite produced a lighter shade. Softer graphite resulted in darker color.

  “Use short, quick strokes,” she explained while demonstrating. “That allows you to alter the shape more easily without needing to erase. Use a light pencil to create the basic outline of your object and then add definition with the darker pencils to make it all come to life.”

  She drew as she spoke, and I was in awe of how in a few short minutes, she had produced a simple image of Meeka.

  “I imagine it will be a while before I can do that,” I said, admiring the picture.

  “I’ve been drawing for twenty-five years,” Ruby said, “and I draw every day. While I’m winding down at night watching a show on TV, I keep my skills fresh by sketching something in the room. It relaxes me, especially because I never need to show anyone, so it doesn’t matter what it looks like. Start with simple shapes and then add to them. I have classes throughout the winter. You should come. If you practice, you could be drawing Meeka by Beltane.”

  “When is that?”

  “May first.”

  That gave me six months. Sounded like a decent goal.

  She showed me a high-end drawing set with different kinds of pencils—graphite, colored, pastels, charcoal—multiple kinds of erasers, a sharpener, a sandpaper block for sharpening the pastels and charcoals, and a small posable mannequin. It was a beautiful set and maybe someday I’d be ready for it. For now, I chose a sketch pad and beginner’s set of pencils, which still gave me twenty-five pencils to play around with.

  Then I ran over to The Inn’s restaurant to get takeout for dinner and returned to the station.

  I sat at my desk, Meeka at my feet, and started drawing circles and squares, noting how the harder pencils seemed to almost tug on the paper while the softer ones glided across the page. Before long, I added diagonal lines to my squares and the combination started to resemble the evidence locker across the room. I was able to turn circles and triangles into a rough approximation of Meeka’s head. Then I turned circles and swirling filigree shapes into a rather intricate Triple Moon Goddess symbol—a full moon with a pentacle at its center flanked by crescent moons on both sides.

  I glanced at my watch and saw it was ten o’clock.

  “We should head home soon,” I told the furry one, now lying on my feet.

  The next time I checked, it was nearly midnight. If this was what happened every time I sat down with a sketch pad, winter would be turning into spring before I knew it.

  Chapter 26

  I pulled up to Pine Time to find the only lights on upstairs were the ones in River’s room. The front and back porch lights were also on, and one of the back patio doors was unlocked. Any other time, I’d think it was sweet that Tripp left a door unlocked for me. Tonight, considering his life had been threatened, not so much.

  “Do a quick patrol,” I told Meeka as I waited outside for her. “It’s late.”

  “Really late.”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. Tripp was standing at the door behind me.

  “Are you trying to scare me to death?” I asked.

  “No. Are you trying to scare me? It’s after midnight. Where have you been?”

  His tone made me feel like a teenager who’d missed curfew.

  “At the station,” I said.

  He pointed at the drawing set in my hands. “Doing arts and crafts? You raised hell earlier about Donovan and then you’re gone this long without a phone call?”

  I hugged my pencil set to my chest. “I needed something to do while Atkins and the deputies were searching the village.”

  Not exactly the truth since the sketching happened after Atkins had left.

  “Deputy Atkins stopped by here six hours ago. He told me they’d searched the village and found no sign of Donovan. That eased my mind for a while, but then a couple hours passed, and you didn’t come home. Then a couple more. I’ve been sitting here worried that something happened to you.”

  I released my stranglehold on the box. “You couldn’t have been that worried or you would’ve called the station to check on me.”

  Meeka slunk into the house like a kid trying to be invisible while Mom and Dad fought. I pushed past Tripp and went right to our bedroom. I placed my drawing set on one of the chairs by the windows and as I removed my badge and other tools from my pockets, I noticed that the covers had been thrown to the side of the bed. Tripp must’ve been lying awake and leapt out when he saw the car lights. Guilt stabbed at me over worrying him. I could have called.

  Once he had entered the room and closed the door, I turned to him. “I’m sorry I worried you. I really am. This is why I didn’t come home, though.” I kept my voice even and nonconfrontational. “I knew we’d end up fighting again. I’m so tired of fighting all the time.”

  I stepped into the bathroom to change into a tank top and boxers. When I got into bed, Tripp said softly, “So you chose to avoid me instead? That’s not the answer. Don’t you think we should talk about what’s going on?”

  “Of course I do. Right now, or—”

  “Tomorrow. Someplace neutral.”

  My mind spun for someplace in the village that was both neutral and private. “The campground? Or the Meditation Circle?”

  “Either will work.”

  Finally, we agreed on something. We both rolled to our sides and slept back to back, but at least we slept in the same bed.

  ~~~

  I woke the next morning with every muscle in my body aching. It might have been the stress over the possible Donovan threat. More likely, it was because last night had been awful. Not just the argument when I got home. I was feeling horrible for purposely avoiding Tripp. What was going on with me? I needed a therapy session with the Barlows.

  After letting the hot water in the shower pound on my aching shoulders and back for a good fifteen minutes, I got dressed and smelled pancakes as I left the bathroom. Expecting to see Melinda and Gloria having their way with the kitchen again, I was surprised to find Tripp making breakfast.

  I poured myself some coffee and went to his side. “Are we okay?”

  He glanced at me as he added batter to the skillet. “We will be. If we talk. We can’t keep ignoring this.”

  “Agreed. Tonight, for sure. Okay?”

  He nodded and returned to flipping pancakes and tending to sausage links.

  I found Tavie, Gloria, and Melinda in the great room.

  “How are things with Silence?” I took a seat on one of the sofas.

  Melinda and Gloria took turns explaining how things were looking hopeful, and that Silence wrote on her whiteboard that she wanted to go home.

  “She’s holding steady,” Tavie said with a look of relief. “They agreed to transfer her to a hospital near home today. They still want to monitor her for infection for another day or two, but if things continue as they are, they’ll release her later this week.”

  “That’s fantastic.” I couldn’t believe how relieved I was to have one Whispering Pines incident
not end in death.

  Tavie stood, pulled me to my feet, and then linked arms with me the way Morgan did when she wanted to have a chat. She led me down the hall to the sitting room across from the dining room.

  “After breakfast, the girls and I will pack up our bags and head on out.”

  “I’ll be sorry to see you leave,” I told her. “Except for the obvious, I’ve enjoyed having you here.”

  “We’ll keep praying for you and the village.” She paused before asking, “Is everything okay with you and Tripp? If you don’t mind me being nosey.”

  “You heard us arguing last night, didn’t you?”

  “No, but the air around here is thick with anger this morning. You told me a few days ago that it was growing pains because the two of you had recently moved in together.” She stared at me until I looked at her. “Do you really think that’s it?”

  “No. This has nothing to do with different living styles. I lived with someone for many years, and he had a lot of quirky habits. Nothing Tripp does comes close to that.”

  “Then this thing runs deep. Whatever it is, it’s not likely to work itself out. You two need to talk.”

  Maybe Tavie had a little fortune teller in her. “We will. We both agreed to have a discussion tonight.”

  I was about to tell her more when the phone rang. Good, I didn’t necessarily want to tell her more. How did she keep doing that?

  “I’ve got it,” I called out to Tripp. I ran to the office, thinking it might be a reservation, and found it was Flavia’s next-door neighbor.

  “I’m sorry to be calling so early,” began the woman with an unusually deep voice, “but you’ve got to come and do something. We can’t take much more of this.”

  “Much more of what?” I asked.

  “Come find out for yourself.”

  “All right, I’ll be right there.”

  While I grabbed my Glock and essentials, Tripp assembled a breakfast sandwich for me to eat in the car.

  “Be safe,” he said and gave me a quick, albeit awkward kiss on the cheek.