“We don’t know, and we haven’t found them. They returned the car before we got there.”
I chewed a nail until we reached the ground floor.
“How about your PR thing. Did you get anything straightened out when you got home today?”
“Not really. I sent the good news out to consumers in a press release. Our products don’t kill. Only time and sales will tell if consumers are over the accusations they heard. I really wish Petal would call me back. It’s been days and she’s completely AWOL. Not a good sign.”
“Petal?”
“Never mind. I’m sure it’s fine.” I hoped.
Outside, the night was alive with community spirit. Horseshoe Falls residents filled the streets dressed in period costumes. They laughed and chatted, enjoying the night. Horseshoes and cornhole games were played on lawns lit by lanterns hanging on shepherds’ hooks. A line of men waged a tug-of-war battle over blue tarps doused in mud.
Joy percolated in my chest. “I love these events.”
“You don’t mind all the people?”
“No. I love the people, especially from afar. People-watching is one of my favorites. The interacting is where I muck up.”
“You do better than you think.”
We moseyed past a line of street vendors hired for the weekend. I could get vinegar fries and kettle corn at the county fair, but only one weekend a year could I get goodies made over an open fire by local residents. The thick tang of barbecue sauce and campfires filled the air. “We have to get Bernie’s kabobs off the fire. I don’t know where the recipe came from, but it’s heaven on a stick.”
“Bernie’s cooking tonight?”
“Every year. She wins the Campfire Award for her excellent food. She makes chicken, shrimp and steak kabobs that melt in your mouth.” My tummy growled on cue.
“Deal.” Jake sauntered beside me, matching his pace to mine and looking like the hero of a rodeo movie. Everything about his stride and disposition screamed cowboy. The marshal badge didn’t hurt.
“Do you ever take off the star?”
“Nope. The job never ends.”
“I’m not sure if that’s sad or just really cool.” I led him to Bernie’s campfire. “We’d like to try all three, please.”
“Mia!” She hopped to her feet and pressed me against her chest. “No costume?” Her bottom lip rolled out. Her bonnet and apron were adorable.
“Not tonight. I wasn’t feeling the Hester Prynne and butter’s rough on satin.”
“Don’t I know it. I nearly broke my bonnet in that slip-and-slide fiasco.” She loaded kabobs onto a paper boat and squirted her secret sauce into the corner. “Nice to see you again, Jake. Hope you’re planning to make this a habit.”
We traded food for cash, and I handed Jake a basket.
He pushed a money clip back into his pocket and frowned. “I was going to pay.”
“I invited you. It’s my treat.”
He turned his phone over in one palm and balanced the kabobs in the other. “Looks like the medical examiner confirmed that berry as belladonna.”
I nibbled on a piece of charred chicken and headed away from Bernie before we ended up on her blog again. “Excellent. Now there’s no way anyone can point a finger at Guinevere’s Golden Beauty for this. Even if Mindy Kinley tried placing doubt on whether or not the belladonna could’ve actually been in the wassail before, now we have the poison at the place he bought his smoothie. I’ll send another round of letters and draft a new press release in the morning, if that’s okay. It’s not a marshal secret about the berry’s whereabouts. Right?”
“No. Go ahead. It’s thanks to you I’m a step closer to finding John’s killer.”
I didn’t bother hiding the smile parting my lips. I bumped gently against his arm.
The night was beautiful. Storefronts were lined in white twinkle lights, and a full moon hung brightly overhead, surrounded by stars and a nice view of Venus. Somewhere in the distance a harmonica lamented and a banjo agreed. Horseshoe Falls loved Pioneer Days like I loved Comic Con.
Jake turned for the Sweet Retreat where Steve Kubicka manned a lemonade stand on the sidewalk. “Drinks are on me.” He paid Steve and handed me a tall white cup. Pretty pink paper with images of ice cream treats covered the window where his butter sculpture had been.
I tapped a nail against the window. “I’m sorry about the butter horse. It was really good.”
Steve rubbed his hands into a cloth and sighed. “Thanks. I’m just sorry for the way it ended. There were a lot of injuries that day. Butter’s dangerous. Not just to your cholesterol.”
Jake chewed on a kabob. “Amen.”
Tennille King, my new friend, zipped across the street in our direction, towing a man the size of Jake’s truck. “There you are.” Her smile widened until a dimple caved in. “Mia, this is my husband, Ty. Ty, Mia and her...Jake.”
Ty extended a hand to Jake and then me. “Nice to meet you.”
Tennille dug a manila envelope from her bag. “These are yours. I’d planned to email them, but my laptop didn’t do them justice. You want print copies. Trust me.”
Someone called her name.
“Oh. Okay. Hey. We’re going to go. Call me, Mia.”
A smile spread over my face. I hadn’t gone through with contacting her for a casual get-together yet, but the idea of having a girlfriend sounded amazing. There were some things Nate just never needed to hear.
Ty waved overhead as he followed her into the crowd. “Enjoy your date.”
Jake went rigid at my side. “Should we sit somewhere?”
Before I fell over dead from nerves? “Yes, please.”
We settled onto a bench near the waterfall and watched a group of men and women in brightly colored outfits clap and spin. They’d turned the empty clubhouse parking lot into the perfect place for a square dance.
I slid a shrimp off my stick. “Fireworks will start soon.” A bonus of fall fireworks, no need to wait until ten for nightfall.
Jake inched closer. “What’s in the envelope?”
“Pictures from the other day.” I opened the flap and slid them into my hand. My face heated. I stuffed them back into the envelope and grabbed my drink.
“Wait a minute.” He rocked me sideways and snagged the envelope from where I’d hidden it under my thigh. A long whistle crept from his lips. “Damn.”
“I didn’t know she was making dirty pictures until the last one.” I peeked at the photos as he flipped through them. Slowly.
The shot where she’d asked me to feign shock looked like Jake was pinching my bottom. The pose where she’d asked me to pray looked like I was giving him a reason to. When I’d propped my leg onto the bench and peeled back my skirt, I looked like a pinup girl. Bree would have loved it. My hoisted leg didn’t look bad in the black-and-white filter Tennille had added. She’d colorized the blue waterfall behind us and Jake’s eyes, which were hooded and intently focused on my thigh. The lilt of his mouth and jut of his chin made him look sexier than anything I’d ever seen and, based on that photo, my thigh had caused all that.
I crossed my legs and shoved the lemonade straw between my lips.
Jake tucked the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. “You can get copies?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
People filtered into the grass around us, settling onto blankets for the fireworks. Jake and I shared an awkward silence as we finished our kabobs.
He set the empty basket of sticks aside. “Can I ask you something personal without making you mad?”
I dared a look in his direction. “Try me.”
“Why not Nate? When I met you, I figured you were a happily-ever-after waiting to happen. Three months later and nothing’s changed. You have everything in common. I can’t find any
thing wrong with him, and he meets your brains and brawns requirement. I don’t get it. People are pretty predictable, but this has me puzzled.”
“We’re friends. That’s all it’s ever been. I don’t understand everyone’s fixation on this subject.”
“I find just friends hard to believe.”
I guffawed. “You were serious when you said men and women can’t be friends? I was sure you were trying to prod me.”
Jake swiveled on the bench beside me and hooked a knee between us on the wooden slats. “That’s been my experience.” He lifted a hand. “Boy likes girl.” He lifted the other hand. “Girl likes boy.” He clapped them together. “Sex.”
“Oh, jeez. Are you serious?” I nearly choked on my lemonade. “You sound exactly like Bree.”
A wide grin split his face. He shook his head and chuckled. “Maybe there’s more in the middle, but that’s how it goes, right?”
“No.” A laugh bubbled out. “That is not how it goes. Good grief, man.”
“It’s been a while since I dated. Maybe I’m confused.”
“Yes. You are confused. That or you watch too many dirty movies. When was the last time you dated?”
“I don’t watch dirty movies. Who calls them dirty movies?” He laughed. “I haven’t dated since high school. I met the one I wanted for life during my first tour in Kuwait. That was it for me, but she didn’t make it home.”
A little gasp caught in my throat. He’d said something like that to my family when Bree asked if he’d ever been in love. He’d said she died but didn’t say how.
“I’m sorry.” It was lame, but something needed to be said. What else was there? Darkness aside, I was unveiled beside him. Everything I said felt weighted, too important.
“Don’t be sorry. Soldiers know what we’re in for. It’s a risk we take. Roadside bomb. I did three more tours before coming home. I couldn’t bring myself to leave her there, but she wasn’t coming home. One day I had to let go.” He anchored an elbow over the back of the bench and heaved a breath. “Anyway. That was a long time ago. More than ten years.”
“You didn’t call me after you left. Was it because you thought I was with Nate?”
“No.” He shook his head and looked into the night. “I don’t know why. I just couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I thought we were friends. You know I’m not great at understanding people or interpreting motives. It hurt when you didn’t call. I assumed it was something I did.”
He turned solemn blue eyes on me. “I lied to you for weeks about who I was and why I was in your life. I hadn’t earned your trust. You had every right to hate me.”
“I don’t. You came clean, and we moved ahead.”
“Well, while I was lying, I had some trouble separating the job from my personal thoughts and feelings. Undercover can get complicated, and you made it hard to see you as the criminal I was investigating. You were funny and quirky and charming.” He cleared his throat. The scowl returned. “Bottom line, you had everything you needed, and I wasn’t part of that equation.”
“You took yourself out.”
“It was no way to start a friendship.”
“Isn’t that exactly what happened?” I twisted on the bench to face him. “Aren’t we friends?”
Fireworks sizzled into the inky sky and exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors.
His brooding face was almost too much to bear. Part of me wanted to flee, run for my apartment and lock the door behind me. The other part disagreed wholly with that course of action.
“Why not Nate?” He exhaled the question like his life depended on understanding my answer.
I blinked, recognizing this moment as one I’d live to regret. “He’s too easy.” There. I’d said it. “Not easy. He’s...painfully agreeable.” Bree swore the doting type of man was pure gold, but Nate took it too far. “He’s never stood up to me or challenged me to try harder or be anything more than I already am. We get along perfectly at all times. I can’t live like that.” I laughed at the ridiculousness of my complaint.
Jake’s brows lifted slightly. “No fire.”
I shook my empty head. “Yes.” Nate and I had no fire. No passion.
Jake leaned closer. Wow. He smelled amazing.
Spectators cheered for the fireworks illuminating the night.
He cursed under his breath and lifted his hand to my cheek. His thumb drifted over the tender skin beneath my ear.
A soft gasp popped out of my mouth.
His phone buzzed inside his jacket pocket, drawing his attention and breaking his unsettling gaze. He pulled away like I smelled of rotten cheese. “Archer.”
I flopped against the backrest. Holy crap.
He was on his feet. “I’ve got to go. We’ve got a warrant for the apothecary’s shop and storage facility. If this was a murder-suicide, we’ll get the case closed tonight.”
I jumped up. “Okay.” My brain begged me to follow him on this excursion, but my ratcheted nerves said, Go home and do not leave. Ever.
Nerves won.
Chapter Seventeen
I couldn’t sleep, but I did get an email I’d been waiting for. A local contractor had an opening in their schedule and could get started on a new booth for Guinevere’s Golden Beauty right away. I emailed the specs, dressed for the Faire, and met him an hour before opening.
We reviewed the situation, haggled on pricing, then shook hands.
He pushed a clipboard in my direction. “We’ll rope the perimeter off and get a solid foundation started today. I’m gonna make a trip downtown for the right permits, and have you back in business this time next week.”
I scratched my name on the bottom line. “Thank you.” I didn’t miss the fact his sudden availability coincided with the fact I had proof we didn’t kill John. Even third-party companies didn’t want to be associated with that kind of press. No wonder Petal was nonresponsive. I’d made up my mind on her while I stewed over the number of things I couldn’t control. She had until Thanksgiving to tell me where we were on our deal. After that, I’d assume she was out, and find another way to get our products onto retail shelves. I didn’t want to work with someone who couldn’t be bothered to return my calls, anyway.
Bree arrived fifteen minutes before the gates opened. A wool cloak whipped around her ankles in the cool morning air. She dropped two lidded coffees and three supply bags on Grandma’s makeshift checkout and stared. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I unloaded the bags with caffeine-enhanced nervous energy. “We’ll have our booth back in a week. Oh, you brought muffins.” I opened the plastic container and snagged breakfast. A fresh blueberry burst in my mouth. “This is amazing. Did you make these?”
She took over setting out cups and napkins. “Are we going to do this? Pretend you weren’t the first one to work on a Saturday morning? As if there’s no massive story behind your early-morning appearance?”
“I met with a contractor. You passed him on your way over here. Burly guy. Clipboard. Tool belt.” Jeez. Scolded for being late, questioned for being early. “How about a ‘good job’?”
Her eyes settled on mine, trying to extract the information she wanted, using her twin power, no doubt. “You look worked up. What’s going on? Don’t say nothing.”
I crammed another bite of muffin between my lips and fluttered my eyes.
She took the container away. “Good job.”
“Thanks.”
“Now, what’s wrong?”
I slid my fingers under my glasses and rubbed tired eyes. Jake’s stinky-cheese look had haunted me all night. I’d called Nate to ask him for a guy’s perspective but couldn’t bring myself to tell him anything. Rejection was personal and painful. I was ridiculous for still thinking about it. Nate and I played REIGN, our favorite onli
ne role playing game, all night, until I came to meet the contractor. We made lunch plans for hanging out when my shift ended today.
I sucked crumbs off my fingers and smiled. “How’s Gwen?”
Bree tapped her foot. “Talk, woman.”
“Stop. You’re making me crazy with that face.” She swore we were cosmically connected because we were twins, and claimed to know when I was hurting, physically or emotionally. I wasn’t convinced either way.
“Talk.”
“It’s been three days since John died, and I’m no closer to knowing what happened than I was the day he collapsed.”
“I’m not buying it. You aren’t a detective. You two weren’t close. You saved our business. Try again.”
The business part was still to be seen.
I smoothed my Guinevere dress and put on a professional face. “I’m working up a promotional campaign to smooth consumer relations after the nutball news allegations. The first round of coupons and sample invitations went out last night to our mailing list. I’m hoping they do the trick and we can get back on track for holiday sales.”
“Nope.”
I unlidded a coffee and leaned against the counter.
She followed suit.
Jake’s stink face popped back into mind. Why didn’t I have any girlfriends? “Fine. I’ll talk, but you can’t. Promise?”
She lifted a three-finger salute. “Promise.”
“I just need to say it all aloud so I can process. Then I’ll move on and be done with it.”
She waited. No talking. Keeping her promise.
I couldn’t do it. I needed friends who weren’t blood related or male. “Never mind.”
Adam arrived with perfect timing, carrying a clipboard and pen. “Bree. Mia.” He tipped his hat. “We’re practicing in ten. If you want to warm up, now’s the time, Bree.” His black tights and green vest emphasized his small stature. He leered at me and then my married sister like a man in need of an eye-poking.
She set her cup aside. “I’ll be right there.”
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