by Ami Diane
He shook his head.
“Seems too much of a coincidence.”
“I agree. That’s why I’ve been pushing Chapman to investigate the break-in. Maybe they’re related. Maybe someone saw something.”
“And he’s not investigating it?”
Will sighed. “He’s got his hands full. And he comes from the nineteenth century. He doesn’t really investigate.”
She jerked her head around, almost taking the steering wheel with it. “He’s from the nineteenth century?”
“Around 1850s if I remember right. Six Shooter too.”
Ella gaped at the inventor a moment before tearing her attention back to the road. The last thing she needed was another car accident.
“Suddenly the cowboy outfits make sense.” She’d always been fascinated by the American frontier time period. More accurately, her father had had a passion for it, and by proxy, Ella did too.
She nudged the car into an empty spot along Main Street, directly in front of the inn.
“Although, Jesse seems to have adapted better to the town than the sheriff. Sartorially speaking.” She recalled his sweatshirt clashing with his cowboy hat and spurs.
“So, you’ve met Six then, have you?”
Was it her imagination or did his voice sound strained?
“We met my second day here.” Right before Kay died, she added internally.
“He’s dangerous, Ella. Be careful around him.” His hands worked around the brim of his fedora sitting in his lap.
“Yeah, I got that impression. And I will.”
They slipped out, and he came around to the driver’s side.
She thanked him for the ride then dangled his keys in the air. When he reached for them, she pulled them back, holding her other hand out, palm up.
He shot her a dashing smile that would put a Crest commercial to shame. “Heh, slipped my mind.” Reluctantly, he deposited her phone in her outstretched hand.
“Uh huh.” She handed him the keys.
As he pulled away from the curb, she waved then dashed up the steps of the stoop to escape the heat. However, inside the inn proved to be a letdown as she found it only a few degrees cooler than melting, but still an improvement from outside.
Back in her room, she plugged her phone in to charge, grateful that the town had an alternative, independent source of energy. At least being off the grid hadn’t put them back in the dark ages. Her brain perked up, wondering if they’d actually visited the dark ages.
Kicking off her shoes, she flopped onto the bed, torn between eating a late lunch and napping. Maybe this whole not having a job thing wasn’t so bad.
Ella winced, realizing she’d left the greenhouses without checking to see if Mrs. Faraday was hiring. Groaning, she rolled off of the comfortable mattress and headed downstairs.
First, she’d eat, then she’d look for work. Her thoughts wandered from potential jobs to her family. That topic quickly became too painful, so she found herself ruminating over Will instead.
She shook her head as if to shake him from her thoughts. Surely he was this friendly to all the newcomers. But part of her hoped he wasn’t, that his behavior towards her was unique.
Grandma’s Kitchen was still closed, so she opted to make a sandwich back in the inn’s kitchen. What started as a sandwich, quickly became half the contents of the crisper sticking out between two pieces of homemade bread.
She piled the food on a plate and meandered her way to the inn’s library, hoping Rose wouldn’t mind her eating in the room.
She searched for Fluffy but didn’t see the large Maine coon anywhere. After looking over the bookshelves, she swallowed the last bite of ham and cheese and other stuff, then she slipped into the conservatory again.
The intoxicating fragrance of gardenias, jasmine, and earth greeted her. She picked her way through the overgrown jungle to the café table and planted herself on a chair. Overhead, brave clematis vines clung to a thin seam of metal where panels of glass met, creating a ceiling of glass, vines, and flowers.
She drank in a long breath. Then, a frown formed as a thought occurred to her.
Ella jumped from the table and inspected the nearest cluster of plants, eyeing the different leaves. She darted to the next and the next, again and again, until she’d covered nearly every square inch of the twenty by thirty-foot sunroom. By the time she reached the back corner, she was breathing easier with the relief of being wrong.
Ella pulled aside the spindly branch of a Chinese maple, and a familiar leaf caught her eye. She wrenched her hand away as if it had burned her.
“No,” she whispered. The word repeated from her lips over and over like a prayer.
Ella darted from the conservatory and sprinted through the library and up the stairs. Inside her room, she tugged her phone from its charging cord and dashed back to the conservatory. Swiping through her pictures, she found the one she was looking for.
Holding the phone side-by-side with the plant, she blinked at the white clusters of flowers and oval, toothed leaves. Jewelweed. She’d found a poisonous plant in Keystone that matched Kay’s symptoms.
“Puedo ayudarle?”
Ella froze, her heart leaping to her throat. Slowly, she turned on her heel to find a woman with dark hair and olive skin staring at her. The knees of her pants were darkened as if they’d grown from dirt, and she wore pink gardening gloves.
The woman asked again if she could help Ella.
“No, gracias.” Ella started to walk away then stopped. “Actually yeah. This plant—¿Qué es esta planta?”
Part of Ella hoped she’d misidentified it because the presence of it in the inn complicated things a great deal.
“No lo sé.”
“Who picked out the plants? ¿Quién…?”
“Mrs. Murray.”
A knot formed in Ella’s stomach. Rose had chosen to have jewelweed in the inn. Why?
Ella shook the dark thoughts away, not wanting to think her new friend capable of murder. Stretching out her hand, she introduced herself.
“Angelica,” the lady replied in turn, pumping Ella’s arm with a firm handshake.
Ella abandoned Angelica and the conservatory for her room and a nicer change of clothes. Her mind swirled with doubt about what she’d just found.
She had to be wrong. But what if she wasn’t? She knew she should tell the sheriff. If Pauline had a specific plant to test the poison against, maybe she could compare it to Kay’s blood work.
At least that’s how Ella assumed it worked. She was as knowledgeable about the coroner’s job as a marathon of House and CSI could make a person.
But the thought of bringing this information to Chapman made her hesitate. If she was right, Rose and anyone else with access to the plant would fall under suspicion of murder, including herself—someone who also so happened to be there at the time of Kay’s death.
Additionally, Ella would be jeopardizing her lodgings. Because what innkeeper wouldn’t want a boarder who’d suspected them of murder, she thought sarcastically.
Ella tipped her head from side to side as if weighing scales. Between finding Kay’s killer and a roof over her head, clearly, it was no contest. She was selfish but not that selfish.
Still… there had to be a reasonable explanation for the plant being there. And before going to Chapman, she should be damn sure about what she said.
With that decision made, she focused on changing her outfit. Her limited supply of clothing didn’t provide many options.
Nothing screamed, “Please hire me.” Not unless it was a yoga studio. And something about Keystone made her think the only downward dog the town had seen was from an actual dog taking a dump on someone’s lawn.
In the end, she settled on her nicest pair of jeans and a top with capped sleeves. To spruce up the ensemble, she added earrings, a touch of blush, and mascara—which promptly smeared over her eyelids, making her look like a washed-up rock star. After fussing with her eyes for several minutes, she ga
ve up and decided to just go with the new look.
With a newfound confidence that only looking like a hot mess could provide, Ella slipped out of her room to find a more disturbing image than the one she’d just seen in the mirror.
Flo stood in the hallway, waving an awkward device around that looked part-microwave, part-metal detector. Ella watched her a moment, turning aside slightly and covering her midsection in case the device gave off any kind of radiation. She’d always been on the fence about having children, but she liked the idea of having the option.
“Is that safe?” she asked. Flo looked up, and that’s when Ella noticed the tinfoil covering her beehive like a fat lightning rod. “Oh my gosh.”
Flo squinted at her behind her coke-bottle glasses. “Who did your makeup? A clown?”
“Catch any reception with that headpiece?”
Flo smirked at her.
Ella pointed a finger at the device. “What’s that for, anyway?”
“Ghost finder.”
“Oh. Sure.” They stood in awkward silence a moment, the machine whirring. Ella rocked on her heels. “Welp, carry on, then.”
“I planned on it.” Flo turned the ray-of-death towards the end of the hall.
It screeched then wound up in pitch until Ella could no longer hear it. She hugged her hands over her uterus tighter and made a beeline for the stairs.
Outside, she turned left down Main Street, which she still considered south despite the location of the sun. After passing the diner, she strolled until she hit the first open door.
What she’d thought was a bait and tackle store turned out to be a small market and produce establishment called, “Stewart’s.”
Barrels of apples and pears stood near the door, and she could see a shelf full of fresh bread, flour, sugar, and other staples she wouldn’t know the first thing to do with. Along one wall was a small refrigerated section stocked full of milk, butter, and eggs. The rest of the store was filled with odds and ends, some packaged, most not.
Overall, she was surprised and pleased with the selection. If she squinted a good deal, she could almost mistake the little market for a Whole Foods. She just needed to see a couple of guys in ponytails to complete the image. However, the jars of homemade animal fats kind of threw her.
A single customer stood in line, wearing fur despite the heat and some sort of sword at his hip. Ella watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying to figure out what century he was from. When he left, sword swinging by his side, she introduced herself to the clerk who turned out to be the owner of the market—his name, aptly, Stewart.
He was sweet, welcomed her to the village, but unfortunately wasn’t looking to hire. Ella left, slightly disappointed, and moved on to the next place.
One by one, door after door, she tried each business. No one was hiring. With each shake of their heads, her spirits deflated. She had expected it to be hard but had thought there’d be something, even if it was part-time cleaning.
Ella reached the end of the road—literally. With a sigh, she turned towards the park and followed the gentle slope of the lush grass to the lake. Her shoes made sucking sounds in the mud as she walked along the water’s edge until the park met the encroaching forest.
Here, the narrow road around the lake began or ended, depending on your point of view. Quint cabins and cottages dotted the lane.
She opted to keep to the soggy grass and moved away from the water, towards the forest. Tall pines towered overhead, mixing with oak and maple. Judging by the height of them, the forest was old, creating a canopy of leaves and needles over a dim undergrowth.
Slowly, she became aware of a soft, tinkling sound like loose change in a pocket. Her ears pricked, tuning into it.
Just as she turned her head towards the source, something moved behind a tree. Ella froze and stared at the spot. Her hand rose to her head as a shield against the sun’s glare. Someone wearing a button-down shirt, vest, and cowboy hat strode along a narrow path cutting deep into the trees. Six.
CHAPTER 13
THERE WAS SOMETHING strange about seeing the cowboy strolling through the forest, like she expected to see him in a saloon or rounding up cattle instead. He didn’t exactly strike Ella as the hiking type.
Crouching low, she slipped just inside the tree line, watching until his tan shirt became a dot. She lingered next to an elm, battling between the temptation to follow him to see what he was up to and the echo of Will’s warning that Six was dangerous.
Just as the tan dot melted into the shadows, Ella made up her mind. She stalked over the worn muddy path, cringing as her once-white canvas shoes sank an inch into the drying muck.
The emerald canopy overhead provided a welcome shade against the blistering sun. Ella quickened her pace until Six came into view again.
A twig snapped under her, and she froze. Several yards ahead, the cowboy turned. Ella sucked in a breath and slid back a few inches until an ivy-covered trunk obstructed her view.
A trickle of sweat broke from her hairline and fell down her face. Her ears strained, listening for any movement from the man.
This was a bad idea.
Finally, she heard the jangle and rustling as his footsteps resumed, moving away from her. Ella hissed out a slow breath and wondered not for the first time if she should turn back.
However, something about the outlaw’s slinking movements and paranoid glances told her he was up to no good. And if there was one thing Ella was good at, it was sticking her nose into other people’s business.
After several minutes of creeping through the forest, the gradual incline of the path leveled out, a fact her now-blistered feet were grateful for.
She’d lost sight of Six several paces back, causing the anxiety that had been building in her gut to slither up her spine.
There was a break in the trees ahead. Ella crouched low and kept to the shadows as she approached.
A small breeze carried through the branches and leaves, and a powerful smell akin to solvents hit her nostrils. She put one careful toe in front of the other and stopped beside a large ponderosa pine at the edge of the path. The rough bark bit into her palms as she peered around the side.
The path led to a small clearing. Six stood in the center in front of a labyrinth of tubes that snaked from a copper contraption to a tall, thin container to something resembling an enlarged pressure cooker. Several wooden barrels dotted the area.
It looked like either a redneck’s mad scientist laboratory or a still. Ella had watched enough TV to hedge her bet it was the latter. The pungent odor permeating the air also made more sense now.
At the base of a large cylinder, a fire burned. The cowboy stoked it, and she heard a faint hiss of something bubbling inside. Then he moved to a spigot and poured a clear liquid into a jar. His nose hovered over the glass, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the contents. Even from several yards back, the smell alone was enough to curl her hair.
With all the secrecy, there was no way he had a permit for what she saw. Whatever his reasoning for making it, she had her answer about what he was doing in the middle of the woods.
Ella sidled away, towards the path, intending to creep back the way she’d come. She went to lift her right foot only to discover it wouldn’t budge.
Her heart hammered against her chest. She tore her attention from Six long enough to see what the problem was. While spying on him, unbeknownst to her, her shoes had sunk another couple of inches in the mud, creating a strong suction.
Ella set her jaw and tried to move her foot again, this time getting her hands involved. The mud made a suckling sound she found disconcerting as it finally relinquished its hold on her tennis shoe.
She hadn’t expected her foot to be freed so suddenly, and the momentum sent her flying back. Her arms wheeled through the air like the world’s worst gymnast, but rather than help her find balance, the movement only served to ensure she fell harder.
The shriek of a wild animal rent the air, and she realized
as she landed spread-eagle in a bed of ferns that the noise had come from her. The ferns themselves made for a soft landing, save for the hidden branch jammed into her hip.
Pain radiated across her side. Ella lay there a moment, inwardly groaning and cursing every tree, fern, and speck of dirt in the forest, and she probably would’ve remained in the plant for all eternity were it not for the approaching jingle of Six’s spurs.
Rolling over, she staggered into a runner’s stance and did her best Usain Bolt impression. Two steps later, she surrendered to the pain and settled on a rapid hobble.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?”
A strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her back. Before she could put up much of a struggle, Six had already dragged her back into the clearing. He spun her around with rough hands and squeezed her arms in an iron grip.
Ella blinked at his sneering face then did her best to feign surprise. “Jesse? Oh, hey. Fancy seeing you here. I was just out for a stroll through—”
“Nice try.”
A long, awkward pause followed, mostly filled with him leering at her and her staring over his shoulder at nothing in particular.
“Anyway, good talk. Nice running into you and whatnot. I should probably head back now.” She wiggled to free herself from his hands, but it was like trying to wrestle out of concrete after it had already set.
He laughed, the noise grating like a barking dog. A startled bird squawked and took off nearby.
“You’re not going anywhere. I know you saw it.”
“Saw what?”
“My still.”
Ella blinked innocently. “What still?” He sneered. Her eyes drifted over his other shoulder. “Oh, that still.”
Her surprise turned genuine when his hands slipped from her arms. He walked a slow circle around her like a lion stalking its prey.
Ella weighed the probability of success if she ran, the throbbing in her hip against his long, lean legs. The odds were not in her favor.
“So, you decided to stay, huh? Good. Another pretty face around here. Hell, maybe the only one. ‘Cept Jimmy’s girl ain’t half bad.” He cocked his head to the side. “But what am I going to do with you now? That’s the question.”