After weaving down the steep incline, I swerve around a downed tree straddling the narrow road and fishtail a turn toward Hangman’s Bridge. Everything’s on track for opening night, including the Graveyard Party where we’ll let people park their campers, show spooky movies on an outdoor screen, and have a row of food trucks. We’ll have a costume contest, trick or treating at the campers, and a tour of the hotel’s lobby and haunted dining room.
Dad got Todd to sign off on the event after pitching in money to pay for the deputies. Linx’s rancher brother, Chad, and Molly’s estranged brother, Randy, volunteered to stand guard inside the hotel. In addition, Todd’s buddies from high school got in trouble for having an open bottle violation while crashing into the statue of old Colonel Colson, and they were assigned to patrol the party as part of their community service.
All is good, if only I can get ahold of Evan to give me a preview of his work so I can sign off and make the final payment. I stuff the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and put on my turn signal at the corner.
Todd has been cold to me lately, saying ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ at the planning meetings. He couldn’t even rustle up a smile when I sold him a raffle ticket to win a night of Harrowing Haunts.
Wonder what crawled up his craw. He didn’t even return my picnic basket. But then, he’s been busier than ever training all of his new deputies. Guess he regrets the impromptu hike and kiss thing he did to me after the flash mob scene.
Men. Don’t know what they’re thinking half the time.
No time to pine. I punch in Evan’s number in my cell phone. At the same time, my eyes widen at a dog running across the street. I slam on my brakes, and my cell phone flies into the windshield.
The dog races off across Mrs. Anderson’s front lawn, and I catch my breath, glad I didn’t squish it flat underneath my tires.
That was a close call.
I’m still busy calming my breathing when the chirrup of a police siren pulses nearby. I glance in the rearview mirror and spot the giant Tahoe PPV with the light bar flashing.
Really? Todd gives me the cold shoulder all week, and now he’s going to give me a warning for almost running over a dog?
Quickly, I flip open my compact and reapply my lipstick, but when I look up at the tapping on my window, it’s not Todd, but Shane Donnelly.
I roll the window down with the hand crank—one of the joys of having a vintage sportscar.
“I’m okay.” I close my compact and blink at him. “I swear, the dog dashed into the street, and luckily I was able to avoid hitting him.”
“You know how fast you were driving?” Shane says in a stern voice but can’t quite hide the grin.
“Why, no, Officer. But I’ll take your warning and slow down.”
He props his forearms on the open window frame and leans close enough for me to smell his breath mints. “Sorry, Tami, I’m not Todd, and you were going fifty in a thirty-mile-per-hour zone.”
“Oh, I can see you’re not Todd.” I flash him a smile. “I didn’t know I was going so fast. Thanks for the warning, Officer. I’ll be more careful.”
“And then there are the conditions.”
“Excuse me? What conditions?” I sneak a peek at my phone, hoping it isn’t damaged and checking the time at the same time.
“Weather conditions, among other conditions.” He waggles his eyebrows as if I’m supposed to catch his gist.
“It’s not raining.” I peek up at the break in the clouds.
“Not now.” He wipes water off his cap. “But it’s my word against yours, and it was definitely raining when that dog crossed the road.”
“I’m not going to argue with you. I didn’t hit anyone or anything. Since I was already stopped in the middle of the road when you pulled me over, I’d say I wasn’t speeding either.” I lift my chin in triumph, right as sunlight blinks through the clouds, and a patch of blue appears.
He narrows his eyes and points to my phone. “Were you texting and driving? I might have to impound that phone for evidence.”
“I wasn’t texting.” This, I’m confident of, since I was in the process of calling Evan, although I didn’t finish keying in his number. Quickly, I swipe to the texting screen. “See?”
He frowns and sweeps his finger up and down.
“Hey, no snooping my messages.” I yank the phone from him.
“I can get a search warrant.” His greedy eyes skim down from my eyes to my lips.
“I already told you I wasn’t texting.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to book you.” He licks his lips and grins. “Speeding, negligence, reckless driving due to conditions, probable animal abuse, and let’s see, assaulting a peace officer.”
“Liar! Todd will never believe you,” I huff. “I never touched you. How can you say I assaulted you?”
“Lashing with that pretty pink tongue and resisting.”
“Resisting what?” I gape at his brazenness. “No one will believe you.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he snickers. “Guess not if you have dinner with me. I’ll forget everything I saw.”
“I will not—” I start to protest, and then an idea tickles my brain. “Why, Officer Donnelly, let’s have a picnic dinner at the station tonight.”
“It’s my night off,” he says. “I’d rather take you somewhere nicer, more upscale, say Whiskey Moon in Tahoe City.”
“That’s quite a drive,” I protest, mainly because Todd would never happen to see us there. “I’m more of a Joe’s Diner type of girl.”
“You’re too upscale for this town.” He quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head, this time letting his eyes feast over my heaving chest. No cleavage for him since I’m wearing my raincoat.
“Upscale or not, I’m extremely busy with the upcoming opening of my fine hotel,” I reply in a snooty tone. “It’s a picnic at the station, or nothing.”
“Fine, a picnic at the station, but I’m warning you, I’ll need to pat you down for weapons. No resisting. You promised.”
“Why should I resist when there are no citations, no charges, and no arrest?” I make a move to roll up my window. “I will need my picnic basket back. Do me a favor and ask Todd to drop it off at my house, and we’re on for tonight.”
“Why would Todd have your basket?” His voice lowers to a grudgingly dry tone.
“You’re not the only guy I pack for.” I turn the window crank and leave him frowning as I drive off.
Sixteen
~ Todd ~
“Tami.” I try to speak to her while she’s kissing me, and my tongue gets all tangled up with hers. Why is it I can’t get a word out or even know what to say?
The chair I’m in tilts back with a heavy creak, and I snap out of it. I’m at the police station with my feet on the desk.
Another dream. That’s all it was.
Blinking, I rub the drool from my lips and look around, glad Molly isn’t lurking around. The last thing I need is a snapshot of me asleep at my desk when there’s so much to be done.
The phone clangs when I’m stirring cream into my coffee, and I bang my hip on the counter when I go to answer it.
“Yeah? CCPD.” I catch my growly voice and put on a more professional one. “How can I help you?”
“Todd? You have to get over here quick.” It’s Tami.
“Where? What’s the matter?”
“I’m at my hotel, and someone stuffed a dead raccoon in the mailbox. A window’s broken, and all the electricity’s dead, even though I have a generator. I’m afraid to go inside. Evan’s supposed to meet me here, but there’s no one around—not even Vinnie, my groundskeeper.”
“I’ll be right over. Don’t go inside. Wait for me at the Sixty Miners.” I hang up and call Shane.
He’s on patrol, but I’m not letting him handle Tami.
“Where’s the fire?” Shane asks with the same tone of voice he used whenever Molly dispatched him.
“Nowhere. I need you back at the station to answer the pho
nes. I have to do an investigation.”
“Investigate what?” He acts like he didn’t hear my direct order.
“We don’t need you on traffic right now. Caught any speeders?”
“Maybe one, but I let her go with a warning,” he says, and I can hear his smirking. “She wants you to drop off the empty picnic basket at her house.”
I suppress the groan deep inside my lungs, wondering why Tami told him about the picnic basket.
Maybe he made a pass at her, and she let him know she's been picnicking with me instead. Serves the city boy right thinking he can snag one of our mountain maidens so easily—although, what if Tami prefers city boys?
I throw off the ridiculous thought that’s been nagging me. Even if Tami wants someone more cosmopolitan, it isn’t a cop. It’s more like the slick Evan Graves type—the ones with a huge social media following and minor celebrity status—although I’m sure I can out arm wrestle him.
“I’m transferring all station calls to you. Try to get Mrs. Anderson in to cover dispatch, but I have to go.” I hang up and stride to the old cruiser sitting in the muddy lot.
Shane calls me back, but I don’t pick up. I’m on an emergency call, so I put on the siren and floor the accelerator. At some point, I’m going to have to send this misfit and his attitude back to the crappy streets of San Francisco he oozed out of.
I find Tami sitting at the bar of the Sixty Miners. She’s pale, and her hands shake. Paul finishes pulling the tap and sets a mug of draft beer on the counter for her.
It’s the first time I looked into her eyes since the night she soaked in my bathtub. They’re red-rimmed and tired, like she hasn’t slept well.
“Hey, tell me what happened.” It’s hard for me not to take her hands and comfort her, but I’m on a professional call, and I need to take a step back.
Just being so close to her ignites feelings that I can’t afford to entertain. Fact being the dream I had which felt so real. I can’t get involved with anyone who’s a potential conflict of interest, and I can’t seem to stop unrealistic thoughts of her from invading.
“I was supposed to meet Evan at Harrowing Haunts.” Her voice trembles. “The cell service is up and down, but he confirmed last night, although I haven’t heard from him this morning.”
“What did you see when you arrived? Shall we go over so you can show me?”
She swallows and puts money on the counter for the beer she didn’t touch. “I might have overreacted, but now that you’re here, I guess it’s not as bad as I imagined. It’s probably kids pulling pranks.”
“Maybe, but I’ll want to investigate. Your grand opening’s this weekend. Are you sure you’re ready?”
“We can get the window glass replaced, and I think the power should be restored by then. My guests have confirmed. The kitchen staff is ready, and I’ll have them cook some preview meals for us, if you’d like to come by later this week, and the weather’s going to be great.” She rattles on while wringing her hands, looking more nervous than I’ve ever seen her.
Usually, Tami is confident and exuberant. She’s optimistic and never worried about the future. She’s a cheerleader and encourages every new scheme. To see her trembling and hesitant punches me in the gut. It hurts.
“Tami, it’ll be okay. I’m sure of it.” We reach her property which looks a hundred percent better than the last time I saw it. The parking lot has been paved and still has the scent of newly poured asphalt. The landscaping is done tastefully with vines trailing up trellises set near the entrance, and the balcony and gables are newly painted a robin’s egg blue. “You did a nice job here. It doesn’t look haunted at all.”
“Looks are deceiving.” A little bit of that spunk she has returns as her face brightens. She points to the hillside rising behind the property and the dusky green trees. “But honestly, it’ll only be haunted for Spooky Fest and special events. I don’t want to be a one-trick pony, and there are other holidays besides Halloween to celebrate here. Can you picture this place dressed up in Christmas lights? Or on a sunny spring day?”
“Yes, I can see why this project means so much to you.” I’m amazed at how her words paint so many pictures in my mind. I can almost see myself sitting on the balcony on a hot summer day strumming my guitar with her at my side.
Too bad it can’t be so. A woman with the large dreams and appetite of a venture capitalist deserves a wealthy man who can travel the world with her and help her bring a small part of it back to Colson’s Corner. After all, she did graduate from Malibu University, a prestigious and upper-class school.
What would she want with a small-town sheriff like me? I bet I’m only the passing challenge for her.
“It’s my dream to transform Colson’s Corner into an international destination,” Tami says. “Imagine bringing people from all over the world to our town and letting them experience all the wonders we have here right under our toes.”
“Imagine …” I trail off and clear my throat, remembering I’m on an official investigation. “Show me the vandalism.”
The light goes out of Tami’s eyes, turning them a shade of light gray. She gingerly points to the large mailbox, and I spy bits of fur and a trail of blood oozing from the side.
The raccoon is dead, but what’s worse is that its paws are cut off, and its tail is wrapped around its neck. I hope it’s not a message of some kind.
“Do you know if they did that after he died?” Tami asks. “Why would they mutilate him?”
“Let me take pictures and put him in an evidence bag.” I march back to my cruiser to get the official camera and bags as well as disposable gloves. “Have you received any notes, text messages, or threats of any kind?”
“No, nothing.” Her eyes flit from my face, and she winces, as if she’s suppressing a piece of information.
I raise an eyebrow. “Even if it’s the smallest thing.”
“No, nothing,” she reiterates. “Everyone in town’s looking forward to the Graveyard Party, and all the visitors have confirmed their reservations.”
I bag the carcass and put it in the car, then walk over to the broken window. “Have you gone inside?”
“No, I called you right away,” she replies.
“That’s the right thing to do. Can you call your groundskeeper and ask him to meet us here?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t get ahold of him.” She checks her phone. “I have a signal, but I keep getting his voicemail.”
“Who is this guy?” I cross my arms to keep the feeling of busting heads inside. “Where did you find him? He’s not a local guy we know.”
“Paul referred him to me. He’s been homeless, but that’s not something to hold against him.”
“Of course not,” I agree. “Did you do a background check? Give me his full name and any prior addresses.”
She hefts a frustrated sigh my way. “Honestly, Todd. Vinnie wouldn’t want to drive me away. I’m the one who’s giving him a job and opportunity to work.”
I don’t want to fight her on that, and what she’s describing is more likely a prank. “Okay, then, text me his information later, and I’ll run a check for priors. Let me go in and see if anything else is damaged.”
She unlocks the front door and starts to follow me in, but I put a hand on her. “I have to see if anyone’s lurking inside.”
“No one’s around. Don’t worry.” She stays back a few moments and peers around me.
I turn on my flashlight and swing it in an arc around the entrance foyer and lobby area.
A multi-tiered crystal chandelier hovers overhead, and the scaffold from where the paint can fell is gone. Delicate floral wallpaper covers the walls, and the trim around the windows and doors is blood-red. A sweeping staircase arches up to a wide landing, and the lobby is filled with portraits and full-sized paintings of Victorian men and women.
She’s done a great job with the restoration, and I’m proud of her, although I’m not going to admit it.
“The l
ights are working again,” Tami says as the chandelier and fake candles perched on the wall sconces turn on. “I wonder if someone cut the power panel and turned it back on.”
“In that case, they might still be around. Show me where the panel is.”
“It’s in the back.” She locks arms with me and leads me down the corridor and through the empty kitchen.
We exit through a service door, but if anyone was here, I don’t see any evidence. I check the area around the dumpster and down the stairs of the loading dock. It’s full of muddy footprints, but if there’s a fresh pair, it’s hard to tell due to the soggy ground from the recent rainstorms.
“Is there a locked gate on the other side?” I ask.
“No, this leads to employee parking.”
“You might want to put in a gate to keep trespassers out.”
“Advice taken.” She seems less apprehensive now that we didn’t find anyone. “Evan was supposed to meet me here to go over the final details in the bedrooms. Maybe you’d like to take a tour and check out the furnishings?”
“I need to look at the broken window.” I ignore the hopeful way she looks at me, as if this is a social call. I have to be strong, because there’s no telling what my body would do if I’m alone with this beauty in a bedroom.
I hear her footsteps behind me as I make my way to the dining room where the window is. Shards of broken glass lie on the wood floor along with a rock with a piece of paper tied around it.
“Looks like a note,” Tami says when I take pictures and then pick it up with gloved hands.
“Yep. Let’s see what it says.” I untie the twine and put it in an evidence bag along with the rock.
The paper is wrinkled, but there’s no mistaking the message scrawled across it.
I’m watching you. [smiley face emoticon]
“That’s all? No signature?” Tami asks to look at the other side. “And what’s with the smiley face?”
“It looks like a man’s handwriting, or someone strong.” I examine the back and find the indentations made with the ballpoint pen. “See here where they ripped part of the paper with the pen?”
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