Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3

by Shawn McGuire

  “It’s Morgan’s secret blend. I’ll tell her you like it.”

  “Morgan? As in Briar’s girl?”

  I smiled. “She’s not a girl anymore, Dad. She runs Shoppe Mystique now. And she’s going to have a baby in May.”

  “Briar a grandma?” He chuckled and took another sip. Whatever magic Morgan had infused into the mix seemed to be having an effect on my crusty father. His shoulders relaxed as I watched him, and the lines on his face softened.

  “Four o’clock works.” He took another sip. I was tempted to mix up a second mug for him right away. “Have either you or Tripp tried to start your grandmother’s Subaru?”

  “No. We haven’t touched either the Subaru or the Lexus convertible. They’re both in the garage. Keys are in the top left-hand drawer of the desk in the den.”

  “Lexus? When did she get a convertible?”

  If you ever came to visit your mother, you’d know the answer to that.

  Stop it, Jayne.

  He dismissed the question before I could answer. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t expect anyone to chauffeur me around while I’m here. That means I need to get the Forester started so I can take it to Madison on Tuesday.”

  My Cherokee would fit in the garage then. Keeping it out of the consistently below-zero temperature at night might help keep it alive until spring. Maybe I could get him to go through everything else out there, too, and free up even more space. I’d boxed up and sent most of Dad’s old things to the house in Madison. I donated or tossed out a lot of Gran’s and Gramps’ possessions. What I kept, I’d put in the loft over the garage. It was all out there, waiting for Dad to decide on its fate.

  While he went to figure out the condition of the Forester, I cleaned up the cocoa mugs and waited for our guests.

  Alan and Nina Thibodeaux arrived right on schedule at three o’clock. I couldn’t help but think about the conversation LaVonne, April, and Lorena had about Alan’s Aunt Suzette earlier. I was trained to deal with the truth, though, so set the gossip aside.

  “Nice to meet you.” Alan held a hand out to me. “Can’t tell you how happy we were to find someone open for business this weekend.”

  Five foot ten, Army buzzcut dark-brown hair slightly longer on top, bright-white smile, early thirties. Alan, who wore a simple navy-blue crewneck sweater beneath a dark-gray heavy wool parka, had the appearance and confidence of an eager professional whose career was taking off.

  “Happy indeed.” His wife, who looked like she’d come straight from work in light-gray wool trousers and a thin black turtleneck sweater, extended her hand as well. “I’m Nina, by the way.”

  Early thirties, long straight highlighted medium-brown hair, small squinty eyes. She’d pronounced her name so it rhymed with china. Glad she clarified that. I’d been calling her Nee-na in my mind.

  “When Alan told me we might have to stay with his aunt, I was a little hesitant.”

  Hesitant to stay in Suzette’s house? Or hesitant to visit altogether? I didn’t sense any warm feelings coming off of Nina for Suzette.

  “I’m sure you’re aware of how sick Suzette is.” Alan came to his wife’s defense while shooting her a be nice look. “I’m going to stay in her guestroom, but having Nina there as well would be way too much for my aunt to deal with.”

  “I’m absolutely fine hanging out here for a few days,” Nina said enthusiastically. “If that’s okay. Your home is simply breathtaking.”

  I bowed my head in thanks for the compliment. “You’re welcome to stay here as much or as little as you want. And for as long as you want. I’ve got family members here this weekend and we’ll be coming and going, but your room key also opens the front door. We usually only serve breakfast but considering nothing in the village will be open, my partner Tripp says he’s happy to provide additional meals for you.”

  “For an additional fee,” Alan clarified. “Right?”

  What an odd question. His voice held a cautionary tone. Almost telling me to not go crazy if I did feed his wife. So, what, soda crackers and water?

  I couldn’t keep the edge out of my reply. “We are in business to make money. And we’d prefer to feed our guests rather than let them starve.”

  Meeka sat at my feet, inspecting the Thibodeauxes. Normally, I got a read off her right away. A wagging tail meant they were fine. A quick look and walk away meant she was neutral. If she stood directly in front of me, she didn’t like them and was protecting me. This time, she sat next to me, tail still, head tilting one way and then the other, confused by them. That made two of us.

  “Don’t stress over feeding me,” Nina dismissed. “I brought snacks, but perhaps I could buy a bottle of wine from you. I’ve also got plenty of books and bubble bath. I’m looking forward to some quiet time.”

  Alan forced a smile. “That means I’m not supposed to count on her visiting my aunt.” He leaned toward me and said in a faux-confidential tone, “They don’t get along.”

  Nina laughed and rolled her eyes. It looked like someone else may have suffered the wrath of Whispering Pines’ nastiest woman.

  Second nastiest. Flavia firmly held that title.

  I guided them to the den where we took care of the paperwork for the room. Since I had planned to put them in the Treehouse before Dad claimed it, I gave them key cards for the Alcove, Dad’s old room, instead. Since Nina arrived with a supply of bubble bath, she’d love the spacious bathroom in that suite.

  They turned to leave the den when Alan stopped in the doorway. “Is there any place open where I can buy a gift for Suzette? I haven’t had time to do any Christmas shopping.”

  Nina stood behind him with a look that said the idea was ridiculous.

  “Sorry.” She blushed slightly when she saw me looking. “Not to be crass, but the woman is at death’s door.” To her husband, she added, “You know there’s nothing she needs. No clothing, nothing for the house. She barely eats anymore, so even a food gift isn’t appropriate.” She exhaled and softened a bit. “All she wants is time with her nephew.”

  “She doesn’t eat but still drinks,” Alan noted as though having a lightbulb moment. “Where could I buy a specialty beverage? She likes juice and tea.”

  My brain spun for an answer. He seemed to really want to do one last kind thing for his aunt before she died. Although, the sudden change from miserly “for an additional fee” Alan to this gift-buying version was a little disconcerting.

  “I already mentioned that the restaurants will be closed,” I pondered aloud, “but Sundry, the general store, should be open until five. The coffee shop, Ye Olde Bean Grinder, will also be open until five. Shoppe Mystique carries wonderful tea.”

  “Places are still open,” Alan confirmed and turned to his wife. “I’m going shopping. Do you want to come?”

  Nina debated this for a few seconds and decided, “I’ll go shopping, but you’ll need to bring me back here afterward.”

  “You could at least stop in,” he hissed, his voice turning stern and demanding.

  Nina glanced at me with a help me look. I put my hands in the air. I wasn’t getting involved in that discussion.

  “Alan, I’m beat,” Nina insisted with a tired sigh. “I was up early to put in a half day at work before we left, then we drove for four and a half hours. I’ll see her tomorrow at that event you insist I have to go to. You know I’m doing my best here.”

  She sounded a little like my dad. Visiting the village out of duty rather than desire.

  Alan took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I do know. Thank you.”

  Having reached some sort of compromise, they left hand in hand.

  I looked down at Meeka, who’d been sitting next to my chair the entire time. “Well? What’s your take on them?”

  She yawned, spun to bite at an itch on her butt, and left to patrol the house. Okay, then.

  I took a minute to check email. Reservations could come in at any time, and we needed all the bookings we could get. Although, we co
uld easily accommodate walk-ins right now. After deleting all the spam messages from my inbox, leaving me with nothing urgent, I went in search of my sister and found she had made herself at home in the Lakeside room. Her three large suitcases of clothes were unpacked and loaded into the closet and dresser. Multiple pairs of shoes and boots were lined up against the wall. A quick glance in the bathroom showed her beauty supplies all over the counter. A stack of fashion magazines was piled on one of the two nightstands. Hand lotion, lip balm, and a nail file lay on the other as did her phone plugged into its charger.

  “It was fun sharing a room with you for Halloween,” she said from her sprawled position on the bed, traitorous Meeka lounging at her side, “but this is way better.”

  Having her here for three weeks would be highly entertaining. Meeka would be a complete prima donna by the end of it, though. Between the lack of law enforcement work and her uber-indulgent aunt, my K-9 would need some intense retraining before the tourist season started again.

  “I made arrangements for Dad to get together with his old friends. Do you want to come?”

  “Into the village?” She made a face when I nodded. “I’ll have to put my jacket and boots on again.”

  “Only if you don’t want to freeze.”

  A thought brightened her. “Can we get some of Violet’s coffee?”

  “If we hurry. Dad’s supposed to meet everyone at four and the shops are only open until five.”

  “Let’s go, then. Where is the man? It won’t kill him to get over there a few minutes early.” She sat up so suddenly, she startled Meeka into rolling off the bed. “Sorry, puppers. This is an emergency. I cannot wait until Wednesday for Violet’s coffee.”

  I was impressed. When given the right motivation, my sister was quite the taskmaster.

  “Violet told me you ordered ten pounds of her house blend.”

  “Had to.” Rosalyn tugged on her ancient snow boots. “I was addicted after one cup. She must put magic of some kind in her coffee.”

  That’s what the villagers said. One could never be sure around here.

  Chapter 6

  Tripp opted to stay home instead of coming with us to visit the Pack members. “I promised to bring a variety of cheeseballs and crackers to the celebration tomorrow. I need to get busy on them.”

  He had become the village’s cheese expert. Second only to Peyton, owner of Sundry. Peyton was out of the country for the off-season, however, so my boyfriend was the reigning cheese king. Which was saying a lot considering we lived in Wisconsin, the cheese capital of the country.

  “All right.” I gave him an extra-long hug, needing to be close to him for a minute. “I could help you later if you’d like to come.”

  He tilted my face up to his. “It’s your dad and your sister. You don’t need backup.”

  Busted. He was right. Rosalyn and I were doing fine now. This weird tension with Dad emphasized we weren’t a super close family. We never sat around the dinner table sharing highlights or lowlights from our day. I loved that Tripp and I did exactly that almost every night.

  Dad insisted on driving us into the village in the Forester. He wanted to see if it was running properly after not having been driven for a good ten months. And it needed gas. After jumping its dead battery with Gran’s convertible, which started right up, he let it warm up for a good long time.

  “Is this your guests’ van?” Rosalyn peeked in the rear window of the silver minivan in the driveway while we waited for Dad to back out of the garage.

  “It is.” I swatted her in the head with the end of my scarf. “Get away from there.”

  “Look at all the stuff they’ve got back here.” She kept peeking.

  “I will not. It’s none of my business. Or yours.” I pulled her away by the hem of her coat.

  “All I’m saying”—she tugged her coat back into place—“is it looks like they’re going on a really long road trip.”

  “Or maybe they’re stopping for a visit with other family members next. Or friends. It is Christmastime.”

  I admit, curiosity got the better of me and I peeked. She was right. It did look like they were planning to be gone a long time. There were two, three-bag sets of hard-side luggage, one purple and the other turquoise. There were also boxes of various sizes, cloth shopping bags, and a few backpacks. A messenger bag caught my eye. Or rather the patch on the bag did. It looked like a snake coiled around a wine glass. Wonder what that stood for?

  Rosalyn yanked me away from the van before I could investigate further. “You told me not to look.”

  “Don’t make me separate you two,” Dad scolded with a grin from the open driver’s side window. “Get in.”

  Roz and I argued over who should get the front seat. I won because I’m older. She grumbled that it wasn’t fair, like she always did when we were kids. I reminded Dad how to get to the station and instructed him to park in the lot behind the building. Then we went inside for a two-minute tour. Seeing “Sheriff Jayne O’Shea” on my office door made him emotional.

  “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” He put an arm around my shoulders. “Detective for Madison PD at twenty-five and now sheriff.”

  “It helps that I live in a small town.” Why was I discounting my achievement? I didn’t do that with anyone else. Did I?

  He shook his head as if wondering the same thing. “Talent is talent whether in a metropolis or a small town.”

  I attached Meeka’s leash to her collar, and we headed for Treat Me Sweetly in the village commons area.

  “Nothing has changed.” Dad stared at the shops as we walked along the Fairy Path. He pointed out Hearth & Cauldron. “A woman used to live there. I forget her name.”

  “That’s Reeva’s new shop,” I told him. “It just opened today.”

  He gave a nod toward Ivy’s Boutique a few yards later. “That used to be Quin’s clothing—” He bit off his words, probably remembering that Donovan’s grandmother owned the place when he was a kid. “The names have changed, and the landscaping is a little different. Nothing new has been added, though. It’s like stepping back in time.”

  “To my knowledge,” I began, ignoring the uncomfortable Donovan moment, “there haven’t been any new cottages . . . Scratch that. Martin Reed is building a cottage behind Reeva’s house.”

  “Martin? As in Flavia’s son?” he asked, and I nodded. “He’s building a cottage behind Reeva’s place? I can’t imagine the sisters are getting along any better now than they ever did so can guess at how well that went over.”

  “You have no idea. There’s also a woman we call Sister Agnes who built a home she calls the un-church.”

  “The what?”

  “She’s a hoot.” Rosalyn laughed. “She wandered around during Halloween dressed as a shadow.”

  “No,” I corrected, “that was Mallory.”

  “The woman who looks through the hag stone in search of fairies?” Dad clarified. “She’s still here?”

  It was weird listening to him talk. He’d been gone so long it was like he was a newcomer at times. Then he spoke with familiarity about people that were here when he was a kid. I knew Flavia and Reeva had been here and he hung out with them, but I hadn’t realized Mallory had lived here that long.

  “That’s her,” I confirmed. “Sister Agnes is new to the village. Although, she was here before I arrived. She’s an excommunicated nun who still wants to be a nun so established her own church and calls it ‘un-church.’”

  Dad blinked at me then gave a dismissive shake of his head. “Sounds perfectly normal for Whispering Pines.”

  We exited the Fairy Path right next to Treat Me Sweetly. Dad froze in his tracks and glanced around the commons area, looking like he’d stepped into another world.

  “Are you okay?” I asked gently.

  “I am. Not sure I’m ready for this, though.”

  “You came all this way, Daddy.” Rosalyn took his hand in her mittened ones. “You did fine being in the house and looking
around the garage. This has to be easier than that.”

  “Did you read the journals?” he asked her, seemingly off-topic.

  He meant the forty-five years’ worth of leather and cloth-bound books I found in the attic.

  “Some of them,” she answered. “I read through 1979 if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  The year everything fell apart. Rosalyn intended to read more of the journals while she was here. Even though they were all right here and I was curious about what was in them, I hadn’t read any of the others. I wasn’t sure I could handle more. The 1979 book had sort of traumatized me. It was hard learning that someone you adored, Gran, in this case, wasn’t who you’d always imagined them to be. She’d had a power-hungry side and had basically ruined some people’s lives. On the other hand, this was her village. She let strangers move onto her land, and I agreed that gave her the authority to kick them off again if they didn’t live by her rules. I didn’t like the almost tyrannical way she exerted that power, though.

  “Then you know,” Dad continued with a nod to the sweet shop. “The people waiting for me in that building know all my secrets.”

  I stood shoulder to shoulder with my sister in front of him. “They know because they were right there with you. It’s not like you were involved in something they weren’t. They can’t hold anything over your head.”

  Left unsaid: You were all guilty of the same thing the night Priscilla died.

  He looked away from us. “They don’t know about him.”

  Him being Donovan.

  “They didn’t know you were the father then,” I clarified. “They do now. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Dillon?” We all turned to see Sugar standing on the front porch of her sweet shop. “Good Goddess, Jayne, what are you doing standing out here?”

  Like it was my fault.

  Her younger sister, Honey, pushed past Sugar, rushed over to Dad, and threw her arms around him as he visibly stiffened.

  “It’s been so long,” Honey crooned softly. “It’s so good that you’re back. Come on inside.”