Esmerelda’s green eyes were trained on Evanee as her head bobbed. “And judging by the hour you got in, I think we’re all curious to know what else happened between the two of you last night.”
“Nothing else happened!” Evanee snapped. “I swear!”
Gemma smiled at her. “I didn’t say anything else happened. Geez. Paranoid much? What is it they say? Thou dost protest too much?”
Evanee felt her cheeks heat up. She shot a glance of annoyance at Whitley and Esmerelda. She hated trying to talk to both of them and Gemma at the same time. It was too much, and Evanee had a hard time keeping everyone straight.
“I’m not protesting too much, I just thought you were implying that…” She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, never mind.”
“You’re so touchy today,” said Gemma, followed by a cluck of her tongue. “What’s your issue?”
Evanee sighed. “I guess I just didn’t sleep well.” It was the truth, of course. It had been a rather emotional evening for both Lane and Evanee. Lane’s father had revealed some very personal details about his relationship with Rachel and some very pertinent information about some of the people that could’ve been responsible for her death.
Everyone had been asleep already when she’d gotten home, so Evanee had lain in bed, thinking about the case and about where they should take the investigation next. Slowly, her thoughts had turned from the specifics of the case to the memory of Lane’s face as he’d heard the details about his parents’ relationship for the first time. He’d looked elated to hear about how they’d met and how much his father had loved his mother, and he’d looked wounded and then bitter when he’d discovered that his father had suspected another man of being violent with Rachel before her death. She worried about what Lane might do to the man. And she worried that he might do it without her being around to stop him.
“Yeah, I can tell you didn’t sleep well.” Gemma poured Evanee a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “Drink up. I need you more awake then this.” She glanced at her watch. “The Renaissance Festival presale starts in five, and I have a feeling we’re gonna be busy today.”
Evanee sighed. It was Renaissance Festival week, and she’d been so overwhelmed with trying to solve the mystery behind the dress that she had hardly spent any time thinking about their big sale or her responsibilities for the event.
The annual Renaissance Festival brought in hundreds of tourists to the area, and Woods Rustic Wares capitalized on it by holding their annual fall sale to encourage residents to spruce up their outdoor decorating with pumpkins and fall wreaths and other cute little odds and ends. It was the town’s goal to make Stoney Brook as charming as possible to keep the leaf peepers and the festivalgoers coming every year.
“I know, Gem.” Evanee took a sip of coffee and then set it down next to Whitley. She rubbed her hands together. She needed to shake off the feelings she was having about Lane. They were a distraction right now.
She had so many other things to think about. She’d already taught her yoga class for the day. They had the presale at the shop. She had to help put the finishing touches on the Renaissance Festival decorations. Tonight she had festival practice. She’d made Lane promise that they’d confront Calvin Lancaster together, and she was already stressing that maybe he’d go over to his place without her. She didn’t have time to wonder how he was feeling about everything.
“I’m ready, I swear. Today’s going to be a good day! I’m going to finish getting the café stocked, if you want to straighten the wreaths? I noticed someone must have tipped a couple of them over on Saturday.”
Gemma’s head bobbed as she dashed forward. “Oh! Yes! Mrs. Elgin did that with her purse. I swear that purse is bigger than she is. I’m on it.”
No sooner had Gemma dashed towards the display than they heard a knocking on the front door.
“Someone’s here already, Gem,” said Evanee, throwing a glance down at her watch. “Wow. Let the day begin, huh?”
Gemma peered out the front window. “Oh. It’s not a customer, it’s just Matthew. I forgot my lunch and I asked him to bring it in on his way to work.” She rushed to open the door. “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t open until eight,” said Gemma with a giggle.
“Ha-ha,” said Matthew. He breezed inside carrying a sack lunch in one hand and a little blonde girl on his opposite hip. “Tell Mommy she’s sooo funny.”
“Mommy funny,” chirped little Sara Greyson. Her yellow-blond hair was up in ringlet pigtails, and she wore a little pale pink corduroy jumpsuit with a cream turtleneck sweater underneath.
Evanee sucked in her breath when she heard the innocent little voice and rushed towards the front door. “Where’s my little Sarabella?” She rushed to pluck the pint-sized toddler out of Matthew’s arms. She spun her around in a circle and then buried her face in little Sara’s neck, making the girl giggle out of necessity.
“Well, hey to you too,” said Matthew, rolling his eyes.
Evanee grinned and let go of Sara with one arm so she could give Matthew a hug too. “Sorry, Matt. You know I go crazy when I see these pigtails.”
Gemma sighed. “Don’t we all. You have no idea how hard it is to leave them in the morning.” She smiled at her daughter. “Now gimme my baby so I can give her a hug too.”
“Oh, just one more hug for Auntie Ev’nee.” Evanee squeezed Sara to her one last time. Feeling the warmth of the little one in her arms filled her heart and at the same time made it feel empty and alone. She wanted that so badly—the sweet little baby to love and the handsome husband to bring her lunch when she forgot it at home. She wanted the whole package for herself, so it was hard not to feel slightly jealous of everything Gemma had. She pouted when Gemma took the baby from her arms.
Gemma gave her daughter a squeeze, making the little girl giggle again.
“So, what are you two up to today?” asked Matthew.
“Well, if you must know, we were just talking about Ev’s date with Lane Dawson last night.”
Matthew’s brown eyes widened. “Her what! Ev, you’re dating Lane Dawson? Since when?”
Evanee shook her head. “Since never. I’m not dating anyone. Your wife is projecting.”
Gemma laughed. “How am I projecting? I have an amazing husband. I don’t need Lane Dawson.”
“Fine, then you’re imagining things. It wasn’t a date.”
“She had Sunday dinner with him at his grandparents’ house.”
“Sunday dinn…” Matthew shook his head. “Ev, you realize Lane’s never brought anyone home for Sunday dinner before. How is this happening, and how am I just now finding out about it?” he asked his wife.
Gemma shrugged. “I have no idea. Less than a week ago she hated the man, and now I find out they had a date, so I’m not really sure what’s going on either. I guess Lane just moves at the speed of light when it comes to women.”
“No—no, he doesn’t, actually,” said Matthew, puffing air out his nose. “As far as I know, the last time Lane dated anyone was junior year, and that was only because Tami Harvey asked him out, and when he said no thanks, she informed him she wasn’t taking no for an answer. They went to dinner, but he said he had an early football practice the next morning and so the girl was home by eight. If he’s dated anyone since then, he’s kept it on the down-low because I certainly don’t know about it.”
Gemma turned to face Evanee, a smile on her face. “Well, then, I guess our Ev charmed him.” She tipped her head sideways. “Is that it, Ev? Have you cast a magic spell on the man?”
Evanee sighed. “You two are too much. I haven’t done a blessed thing. We aren’t dating. He didn’t take me to his grandparents’ house on a date. I didn’t want to talk about it, but we’re working on something together.”
Gemma frowned. “Working on something together? What are you talking about?”
“I’m just trying to help him find out the truth about his mother, okay? We’re trying to piece together what really happened to her.”
&nb
sp; Matthew’s eyes darkened then. “Evanee, you can’t be serious?”
She put her hands on her hips. “I’m absolutely serious. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Someone in Stoney Brook killed Rachel Dawson. They weren’t messing around. This isn’t a joking matter.”
“I didn’t say it was, and I know someone killed her. I’m trying to help him figure out who.”
“Evanee!” said Matthew. “That could be extremely dangerous. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Evanee frowned. She didn’t like Matthew trying to tell her what to do. She was an independent woman and she expected to be treated like one. Would Matthew be acting like this if she were a man?
“First of all, I do know what I’m doing, Matt. I don’t need anyone’s opinion on it. And second of all, I’m an adult and I made an adult decision to help someone who was hurting.”
“Fine, if Lane’s hurting, let him handle his own family’s stuff. This happened thirty some odd years ago, Ev. There is absolutely no point in you getting involved in a cold case like that. You could wind up getting yourself hurt.”
“I’m aware of the dangers and the risks, Matthew. Thank you for being concerned,” she said curtly before spinning on the heel of her boot and striding back towards the counter. “But no worries. I’ve got everything under control.”
“Evanee,” began Gemma. “Matthew might be right.”
“Everything under control,” Evanee sang back. She glanced down at her watch. It was two minutes past eight now. “Gemma, would you mind flipping the sign to open, please? It was sure nice to see you and Sara, Matt. Have a great day at work.” She fluttered her fingers towards the Greysons and set about putting out the cream-cheese-frosted pumpkin spice muffins in the glass display case below her counter. She heard the sounds of Gemma saying her goodbyes and then the little bell jingled, signifying Matthew and Sarah’s departure. She let out the breath she’d been holding. She could only hope she really did have everything under control.
25
It was a beautiful fall evening when Evanee locked up Woods Rustic Wares and started towards town. Feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, she’d left her haunted sidekicks to babysit Prim, and she’d changed out of her usual uniform of sweaters and boots and into leggings, a T-shirt, sneakers, and a baseball cap with a low ponytail. The temperature was slightly higher than it had been the week before, and she was looking forward to breathing in the fresh autumn air on her jog into town for Renaissance Festival practice.
Evanee’s feet crunched rhythmically on the gravel while she marveled at how the trees lining the narrow riverbed just behind her shop had changed colors in such a short amount of time. It seemed like just yesterday they’d budded and then had quickly filled in their branches with green. The fall season seemed too short, because soon enough, all the leaves on the trees would be on the ground, making every step a noisy one. Then it would be stick season in Vermont, Evanee’s absolute least favorite time of year. Cold enough to need the heater and yet not cold enough for snow. But for now, she’d revel in the feeling of life in Vermont, one of the most glorious places in the United States to spend autumn.
She walked across the covered bridge next to her shop, stopping only for a moment to look down at the Stoney Brook as it rushed over the boulders in the water. Just hearing the sound of the moving water and feeling the air on her face relaxed her shoulders. She smiled and then turned to jog towards downtown Stoney Brook. She’d probably only gone a tenth of a mile when she heard the rumbling of a vehicle behind her.
Without looking, she cruised to the side of the road but kept jogging. The rumbling got louder and louder until finally, it sounded like it was upon her. Go on and pass me, she thought, suddenly wishing she had mace or some other form of protection on her. When the truck didn’t pass, she gave a quick glance to her left and saw Lane Dawson in his delivery truck smiling at her.
“Excuse me, ma’am, you know where I can buy any pumpkins?”
Evanee rolled her eyes and stopped jogging. She put both hands on her hips and pointed towards the countryside. “I hear there’s an organic farmer around these parts that sells the best-looking pumpkins in all of Windham County.”
“The best-looking pumpkins in all of Windham County?” he repeated, shaking his head and chuckling. He spat out his truck window and then grinned at her. “Well, isn’t that something. That man should win an award.”
She walked over to his window and leaned inside. “Are you stalking me?”
“No, ma’am. I’m out on business. Just delivered a couple crates of apples to the gals making pies for the festival this weekend.”
“Ahh, I see.”
“I did, however, happen to bump into a friend of yours today.”
Evanee made a face. “A friend of mine?” She couldn’t think of who he might be speaking of.
“Matthew Greyson,” said Lane.
Evanee glanced down the road in both directions, checking for any oncoming vehicles. “Oh, yeah? What did Matt have to say?”
“Well, let’s just say he’s not real pleased with me.”
Evanee groaned. She really wished Matt hadn’t opened his big mouth and gotten himself involved in her business.
“He seems to think I got you involved in all of this investigating stuff.”
She shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Lane. I told him this was something I wanted to do. He wouldn’t listen. What did he say?”
“He basically told me I shouldn’t let you get involved.”
Evanee felt her temperature rise. “Let me? Like you have to give me permission or something?”
Lane shook his head. “That’s what I told him.”
Evanee tipped her head sideways. “You told him that?”
“Of course I did. I’ve been around you long enough to see that there’s no telling you what to do.”
She smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
His head bobbed. “Of course, our conversation did raise a red flag for me. You know, him knowing what we were up to and all…”
Evanee’s cheeks flushed. “Well, he’s Gemma’s husband. She’s my best friend.”
“I thought we were going to kind of keep everything quiet so we didn’t arouse anyone’s suspicions. You know, to avoid getting ourselves into any hot water.”
“I only told Gemma, honest.”
“And Priscilla knows we’re snooping around,” he added.
Evanee’s head tipped back and forth as she considered that. “Well, sure, but she doesn’t—”
“And obviously Maddie Carlson knows we’re digging up some ancient history.”
Evanee grimaced. “What’s your point, Lane?”
He spat out his window again. “Well, my point is, while I firmly believe you have every right to do whatever floats your boat, I can’t help but worry about us stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
“Mm-hmm?”
“And then, here you are, out here all alone, on a bit of a jaunt into town. Anyone could just come out here and snatch you right up, now couldn’t they?”
Evanee was silent. She knew he was right, but she really didn’t feel like admitting it.
“You got yourself any protection on you? Pepper spray, noise makers, a gun, perhaps?”
Evanee’s arms flared out and she did a slow spin in front of him. “Does it look like I have room for a gun in this outfit?”
Lane lifted his brows and gave her a bit of a flirtatious smile. “No, you most certainly do not have room for a single additional thing in that outfit.”
She sighed. “I shouldn’t need protection, Lane. It’s broad daylight.”
“Well, where ya headed?”
“Into town. I’ve got Renaissance Festival practice tonight.”
He looked on down the road towards town. “I imagine that gets over pretty late.”
“It’s my first one. I don’t know what time it gets over.”
“And you’ll be without
a vehicle when it’s done. That means you’ll be running back after dark…”
She threw up her hands. “Okay, okay. You made your point. I’ll go back and get my Tahoe. Happy?”
He shrugged. “I’d be happier if you got in the truck.”
Evanee’s shoulders slumped. She’d been looking forward to clearing her head on the jog into town, but maybe Lane was right. It was entirely possible that word had spread that they were looking into his mother’s murder. That could certainly spell problems for her if she wasn’t careful.
“Lane, the weather is so nice. I was really looking forward to the exercise and the fresh air.”
He leaned forward onto the steering wheel and canvassed her lanky body with his eyes. “Looks like you’re doing just fine in the exercise department, and as far as the fresh air goes, how ’bout this? I’ll let ya keep the window down when I drive you into town.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She was pretty sure he wasn’t about to just drive away and let her go on her way.
“Come on. Don’t make me pull this truck over and jog into town with you. I’ve been on my feet all day picking apples, and I’m beat.”
She smiled. “You’d really jog into town with me.”
He nodded. “Of course I would. Now, I might not be as fast as you. You’re wearing sneakers and I’m wearing cowboy boots, so you’ve got a bit of an advantage, but I suppose I’d manage.”
“Oh, fine,” she said, relenting. She took hold of the chrome handle and lifted it.
He reached a hand out as his eyes widened. “Don’t touch the han—”
Before he could finish, the truck’s handle fell off in her hand. She stared down at the piece of molded chrome uncomfortably.
“—dle,” he finished before promptly looking glum. “It’s broken.”
“I see that. Sorry.”
He shook his head and reached across the seat to open the door from the inside. “It’s alright. I need to get that fixed.”
As she took the seat next to him in the vehicle, she looked around curiously. The inside of the vehicle was almost as beat-up as the outside of the vehicle. “Looks like it might be time for a new delivery truck.”
Snow Way Out: A Mystic Snow Globe Romantic Mystery (The Mystic Snow Globe Mystery Series Book 2) Page 18