Cat Killed A Rat (Ponderosa Pines Cozy Mystery Series Book 1)

by ReGina Welling

  Would the community come together the way they always had in the past? Could she trust them to make the right decision or would it be time to pack it in and move on? Even if she hadn’t trusted EV as implicitly as she did, it was apparent to Chloe that combining with Gilmore would change the Pines completely. Gone would be the stress on equality, teamwork, and freedom of choice that had always been in keeping with her family’s ideal of what the community should be.

  Those ideals were among the qualities that had pulled her back home.

  She hoped that the desire to remain a shining example of what a committed group could accomplish would translate to the rest of the town as well, but she also knew the generation gap between the founding members and the group currently attempting to gain control was wide and deep.

  Wide enough and deep enough to adversely affect the outcome.

  Helping EV educate the town on the realities of the situation would be paramount if they were to move forward in the right direction. There had to be a way to use her column to help move things along.

  Educational gossip? Interesting concept. EV would appreciate the play on words.

  Approaching her house, warm lamplight shining through the windows, it looked like a painting in the deepening twilight. Chloe couldn’t hold back a smile. Dwarfed by the spreading branches of a huge Sugar Maple tree, the cottage home was unobtrusive and cozy, and Chloe didn’t regret a day spent in her personal paradise.

  Once her mother had accepted her daughter’s desperate desire to go home, she had gifted Chloe with the deed. Though she had never lived here full time before, it was the only place Chloe remembered returning to during the years when Lila had carted her around the world like a knapsack. She was grateful for those experiences, but was happier here than she had been at any other point in her life.

  Chloe’s grandparents built what started as a simple cabin, barely finishing it before her mother was born. They were happy here for several years while the commune rose up around them. Primarily constructed out of cordwood, a cheap and popular medium used extensively throughout the community, the main house exterior resembled mosaic tile. Stacking cross-sections of whole and split logs and cementing them into place created two-foot-thick walls that both decorated and insulated the building. Assorted pieces of beach glass, stone, and tile were set into the cement between the logs to create even more artistic interest.

  Her favorite touch held a place of honor above the front door; a single log, two feet in diameter with a natural heart shaped pattern in its center. Its mate took center stage above EV’s door, both having been cut and placed at the same time by Chloe’s grandfather and EV’s father.

  To keep up with the needs of his growing daughter, Chloe’s grandfather eventually added on to the left side of the house. The new section featured a half-wall of stone topped by a section of Spanish-style stucco that seemed slightly out of place but charming at the same time.

  Arched windows and doors and a thatched roof contributed to the general hobbit-hole vibe of the home. Chloe appreciated her grandparent’s unconventional construction and added her own unique flair to the building in the form of a screened patio spanning the entire back side, providing a view of the impressive yard. She used mostly reclaimed materials and was proud of the final outcome, having hammered in most of the nails herself.

  EV, hearing a slew of unexpected curse words coming from Chloe’s backyard about a month after she had moved in, investigated and found Chloe nearly into a pile of cut evening primrose she had mistaken for a weed. Looking around the yard EV realized that Chloe had bitten off a bit more than she could chew, pulled her inside and brewed them both a pot of tea.

  Together they brought the garden back to life while forming an unbreakable friendship. Chloe loved to sit in the screen house and survey her little corner of the world. Stone paths curled around dozens of patches of earth containing a plethora of garden art and several hidden places Chloe visited to practice yoga.

  Her Gramps had spent a year with knives, gouges, and chisels to carve a Celtic cross into the arched-top front door that Chloe had religiously locked every day until EV chided her. This was not the city; this was a safe place where neighbors worked together, played together and looked out for one another. There was always a helping hand at the ready, and Chloe knew she could knock on any door and receive assistance if she ever needed it.

  “Nothing bad ever happens in Ponderosa Pines” was the town mantra. It drifted through her head and quieted her thoughts as she readied for bed. Chloe relished the notion as she floated off to sleep to the sounds of chirping crickets and croaking tree frogs.

  Chapter 3

  When EV had stalked down the same path half an hour ahead of Chloe, meditative walking had been the farthest thing from her mind. She stomped through the fairy garden barely resisting the urge to kick one of the winged creations to kingdom come. It would feel so good.

  In another forty-five minutes, an hour at the most, the Ponderosa Pines gossip mill would start to kick into full grinding mode. Before that happened, EV needed time to think about the possible repercussions from tonight’s meeting.

  Her long legs ate the hike through the woods like a dieter gulping down a midnight binge. Once home, she circled her living room with the frustrated energy of a caged tiger until it became clear pacing wasn’t enough to provide release. Glancing at her watch to gauge how far along she was in the countdown to gossip liftoff, EV took the stairs to her bedroom two at a time.

  After yanking a tank top and yoga pants onto her lanky frame, she smoothed her hair into a stubby tail at the back of her head. Chloe’s yoga might be the commune-approved method of stress relief, but EV preferred beating the living crap out of something. To that end, she had installed a punching bag in the far end of her bedroom.

  No gloves tonight. Only the force of bare skin against firm leather would do.

  Ten minutes later, coated in a light sheen of sweat, she was lost to the rhythm—jab, jab, kick, jab, kick. She pummeled the bag into submission until her entire body hummed into a zen state.

  Tomorrow’s bruises would serve as a reminder that letting Evan goad her this deeply into the red had given him power over her.

  When the special ring tone that signaled a text from Chloe sounded, EV heaved a sigh and flicked the touchscreen to open her message folder.

  Common sense rules, douchebag drools—Mata Hari

  A second text shot into her inbox.

  Looks like he mostly got the bobble-heads and Cruella so far. Maybe one or two others and the fence sitters are minimal.

  Thumbs flying, EV typed a reply.

  I’ll be tending the grapevine the rest of the evening.

  I think this is going to die down without much of a fuss. Chloe might be right, but EV suspected the fuss was just beginning.

  Don’t put money on it.

  To EV’s way of thinking, politics and deer ticks were not that far different. They both carried the kind of disease that could make life a living hell; the only difference was that deer ticks were more easily avoided and you could pick them off with just a little tug while politics dug in deeper.

  Her blood pressure had just settled back into the normal range when the phone pealed with the first call of the night. It was well past the witching hour when she finally fell into bed.

  * * *

  For EV, the perfect day started when she rolled out of bed without having to be awakened by an electronic rooster, padded downstairs in her energy efficient home for a healthy breakfast followed by some time spent tending her gardens. After a steaming hot shower she might boot up her computer to take care of correspondence and whatever tweaks were needed on her family’s corporate website before heading out to one of her haunts where she could hear the latest local gossip.

  Any grapevine as strong as the one in this small town needed tending, and EV considered herself a gossip gardener. It was her duty to nip off tendrils of exaggeration or prune vines that threatened to produce so
ur grapes. Half the charm of a small town lay in the willingness of residents to be generally helpful to one another, and she knew the old saying about sticks and stones was a load of crap: words hurt when they were sharpened into barbs by wagging tongues, then slung without thought, but a word or two in the right ear at the right time was often enough to keep neighbors civil.

  It was her civic duty to stand guard over the grapevine and not merely her favorite form of entertainment.

  Okay, that might be a bit of a stretch.

  Today she would be spending the afternoon packing boxes of vegetables at the community food co-op. Arriving early, she stationed herself in the prime spot for overhearing the most conversation. With her back to everyone, filling gallon-sized bags with handfuls of fresh, fragrant green beans, she listened to Mr. Zellner explain his version of events from the night before.

  “That Luther doesn’t have brains enough to shut up when he’s behind. There’s obvious benefits to joining up with Gilmore, if he would have explained it right.”

  Just as she was tempted to turn around and blast his socks off, Horis cut in and did it for her.

  “What benefits? Higher taxes? We already have our own school system, our own small police department, and a fair method of government that takes into account the needs and desires of the community. What more do you want?”

  Zellner mumbled, “Backwards, back-woods hick.”

  EV spun around and took a deep breath to let him have it but Horis shook his head. “Save it.”

  She tried to let it go, but couldn’t resist a parting shot. “It’s a town, not a cage. You don’t need an invitation to move out; you can do that any time.”

  “Could move to Gilmore without doing a thing, if you’d just play ball.” Zellner had to have the last word.

  Having made his point, the older man stormed off as fast as his spindly legs would carry him—somewhere around the same pace as a turtle on a cold day—while EV and Horis watched.

  Once he was out of earshot, EV turned to Horis, “Is that what everyone wants? For me to shut up and let Gilmore annex us?” An echoing cavern swallowed her stomach. “I never thought…I assumed the town was happy the way we are. Was I wrong?”

  Horis shoved at his glasses, the gesture absent-minded as though one he performed many times a day. He laid a hand on her shoulder with a tentative awkwardness that was meant to be comforting. “Zellner thinks chemical pesticides will do a better job of getting rid of the grubs that got into his strawberry patch. Trouble is, he waited so long to do anything about them, they’re going to be tough to cull. He’s getting too old to push the tiller, and he’s too stubborn to ask for help. He figures the more lenient Gilmore regs would let him use chemicals that are easy enough for him to apply himself.”

  These were the little types of fires EV helped put out on a daily basis. Thanking Horis for the insight, she approached his nearest neighbor and, after a short conversation, hunted down Mr. Zellner.

  “I was just talking to Tank, and he said he’s been having some trouble with grubs at his place. He’s afraid they’ve been crossing over from his acreage to yours. By way of an apology, he’d appreciate it if you’d let him treat your strawberry patch with a new recipe he wants to try—neem oil mixed with water; sprays on and gets rid of most pests in a few days.”

  To save face, Zellner blustered a bit before eventually agreeing. Yet, his posture when he walked away seemed stronger, his step lighter, and she was sure Evan had just lost another supporter.

  Chapter 4

  Some time away Chloe finished dabbing her lips with a bit of fruity gloss and stepped back to assess her reflection in the mirror. Blond hair fell in waves around a pretty, heart-shaped face and almond-colored eyes. Hours spent outdoors had given her natural highlights that would have cost a fortune at any decent salon and a smattering of light freckles across her petite but slightly upturned nose.

  The last time Chloe dolled herself up was months ago, but an impending night out had her dressed to the nines. She wore a pair of teal and bright blue color-blocked (and surprisingly comfortable) wedges; a white, fitted maxi skirt with blue stitching; and a flowing teal tank top that showed off just enough cleavage.

  Just before leaving the bathroom, Chloe gave her hair one last fluff and then checked to make sure her underwear wasn’t showing through her skirt. That would be embarrassing.

  The girls were due any minute now, and Chloe was excited for an evening that didn’t consist of sifting through gossip and contemplating conspiracy theories. She and her friends had only seen each other in passing lately and hadn’t all been together at the same time for weeks. An evening of fun was definitely in order, and she was guaranteed a good time whenever Veronica and Mindy were involved.

  She heard the doorbell ring and yelled from the hallway “get your asses in here already; you know the doorbell is for losers!” Bounding to the foyer she flung the door open and came face to face with Nathaniel Harper, the last person she would have expected.

  “So that’s an open invitation then, huh?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

  Chloe put a hand on her hip and stuck her tongue out at Nate before reaching up to hug her oldest childhood friend.

  “When did you get back?” she exclaimed as she ushered him into her living room. The stack of blue, white and teal bangle bracelets jangled on her wrist as Chloe handed Nate a glass of the red wine she had been aerating for her friends.

  “Late last night.”

  “And what brings you back to our itty bitty town? I thought you were some hotshot detective in the city. Or has your mother blown your accomplishments out of proportion?” Chloe fiddled with the rhinestone-studded pendant that hung around her neck.

  Everyone knew Barbara Harper thought the sun rose and set on her son, but they also knew it was with good reason since Nathaniel had always flown the straight and narrow and deserved all the accolades he received.

  “Apparently hot shot detectives aren’t immune to injury. I damaged my rotator cuff swinging off a fire escape to catch a suspect and had to have surgery. I’ve got another month of therapy and I hate desk duty so my boss sent me here to keep an eye on his newest deputy and ‘get back to my roots’. Ask me how thrilled I am.”

  Nate rose from the couch and wandered into the kitchen. She knew precisely what he was looking for, and when he returned holding a giant no-bake cookie Chloe couldn’t help but smile. She had reorganized cabinets and closets, replaced several pieces of furniture and added her own flair to the decor, but one thing she couldn’t bring herself to change was the location of her Nana’s goody cabinet.

  Though she claimed keeping the old orange and white Tupperware container stocked with what Nana had called “brown cookies” was a gesture meant to satisfy the children who frequently ran rampant through her home, there was more to it than that. Each time she repeated the old ritual of boiling butter, sugar, and chocolate over medium heat, then adding peanut butter and oatmeal and pouring the batter onto waxed paper Chloe was carrying on a beloved tradition.

  It warmed her heart to know Nate also remembered the treats, and that he felt comfortable enough in her home to nip one without asking. It also warmed her heart to know that he’d be sticking around for a while.

  “Well I, for one, am glad you’re back.”

  * * *

  This time there was no doorbell, just the sound of Chloe’s girlfriends chattering as they pushed through the front door, picked up a glass of wine each, and deposited themselves on her couch.

  Chloe’s two best friends could not have differed more in both appearance and personality.

  Mindy, a lively redhead whose petite stature and ever-so-slightly pointed ears gave her an elf-like quality, had been dating the same guy practically since middle school. Neither had any desire to get married or have kids—a point of view that was not out of place in a community where many couples had never officially tied the knot, or had been bound by ritual handfasting in place of a tradi
tional wedding ceremony.

  Veronica, on the other hand, was a striking brunette with a husband and a current total of five children. All that childbearing had only enhanced her voluptuous shape, making it the epitome of an hourglass figure and the subject of much envy from the less fortunate women of Ponderosa Pines. Her somewhat dippy nature belied a level of intelligence that continually surprised and pleased her closest friends.

  You could have a highly sophisticated philosophical discussion with Veronica one minute, then spend the next hour convincing her the large bird she saw flying around was definitely not a pterodactyl. This was her monthly kid-free outing; it was unusual to see her without a child attached to her hip.

  That left Chloe as the only one of the three not in a committed relationship, and she was okay with that for the time being. She loved Veronica’s kids like nieces and nephews, but enjoyed being able to hand them back at the end of the day.

  “Was that Nathaniel Harper I just saw coming out of your house? When did Mr. Hottie get back to town?” Veronica asked. Chloe could tell she was practically drooling. It was true that Nathaniel was a good looking man. Everyone but Chloe saw a tall, muscular physique; blue eyes coated in thick, black lashes; and wavy chestnut hair that curled just around his temples. But to her he was still a small child giving her wet willies when she least expected, and an awkward teenager growing into lanky limbs and protruding ears.

  Every few years when Lila and Chloe would visit the Pines, she and Nate would fall back into a natural friendship. They even tried making out once during high school, but it hadn’t ended well. She didn’t remember who started laughing first.

  “Last night, and he’s not planning on leaving anytime soon, either.” Chloe filled Veronica and Mindy in on Nate’s new position with the police department.

  “You sure you don’t want a piece of that, Chlo?” asked Mindy with a suggestive raise of her brow, “I’m sure he’d happily put you in cuffs anytime you’re up for it.”