Inside Out: A Heather's Forge Cozy Mystery, Book 5

by N. L. Cameron

  “You should ask him why he was going through the trashcans out on the green,” I told him. “He went through them all looking for something, and he stopped right over there, which is where I found the Anubis statue.”

  Sheriff Mills jumped. “He did?”

  “He must have been looking for it."

  Sheriff Mills turned away. “You didn’t tell me that. I better go get him then.”

  He jumped into his cruiser. I ran over to the car. “Let me come with you.”

  He didn’t argue, and the next thing I knew, the car peeled around the corner heading the direction Artie Gordon went. He peeled sideways and seized the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. I dug my fingernails into the seat and held on for dear life.

  He screeched around the corner, but Artie was nowhere to be seen. Sheriff Mills looked every way, but we couldn’t see him anywhere. “Curses!” Sheriff Mills muttered. “Where’s he gone now?”

  I didn’t tell the sheriff about the tunnels. If Artie Gordon was the man I saw at the cabin the other night, he must know about the tunnels. He could be using them to travel all over town undetected.

  I didn’t tell the sheriff that Artie Gordon might be the man who caught me in the shed last night, either. I didn’t want anybody to know about that, especially since I might have been trespassing on private property.

  The more I saw of Artie Gordon, though, the more certain I became that I’d seen him before. He had the same angular shape as the man I saw outside the shed window, but I couldn’t see much of anything else about him then. I probably wouldn’t recognize that man if I came face to face with him on the street.

  What would my aunt Beatrice have to do with a man like that? Eliza said he lived in a shack outside of town. Maybe that cottage I saw outside the shed was Artie’s house.

  The whole situation got more complicated the farther I went. Nothing made any sense, but I didn’t feel right telling Sheriff Mills what I knew.

  We hunted all over town but came up emptyhanded. Sheriff Mills parked the cruiser in front of the station and got out. “Can’t find him. I’ll track him down one of these days and ask him what he was looking for. Right now, though, I’ve got enough to worry about getting my jail secure. You go on home, young lady. You’ve done enough for one day.”

  He went back inside. I stood on the sidewalk and looked back and forth. I still had Pixie locked in the car and those apples to deliver to Camille, but I didn’t want to move.

  Artie Gordon was out there somewhere. He would find out one of these days that I was the one who took the Anubis statue out of the garbage can. He would also find out I was the one hiding in his shed and poking my nose into that Bible and photo album. When that happened, he would make me a powerful enemy.

  I didn’t want that, but there wasn’t a lot I could do about it right now. I had to get back to the inn, but I didn’t want to go near the tunnels for a good long time. If he knew about the tunnels, he could find his way back to the inn without anybody seeing him. He could sneak in and….

  No, he couldn’t. I refused to think about that. Artie Gordon wasn’t coming anywhere near me. I wouldn’t let him.

  Then I had a brilliant idea. I went around to Eliza’s salon. “I was wondering if you want to attend a Paint-and-Sip at the inn later today.”

  “A what?”

  “A Paint-and-Sip. It’s where everybody sits around drinking coffee and tea and painting pictures of… whatever. I don’t know. I never went to one before. What do you say? Do you want to go with me?”

  “Okay, sure,” she replied. “I don’t have any more appointments today. I’ll just lock up and catch a ride with you.”

  “Great,” I told her. “You’ll just have to put up with Pixie in the car.”

  We fought Pixie away from the door so Eliza could slide into the passenger seat. Once we got the door safely closed, we set off down the road. Pixie settled down on the back seat and made no further fuss. She must have been planning her next escapade.

  “I didn’t know you were into art, Allie,” Eliza remarked.

  “I’m not, really. I just thought it might be a fun thing to do. I don’t get to do much for myself these days. When the Art Society booked this get-together, I thought it might be fun to attend, but I didn’t want to do it alone. I’m glad you came.”

  “I’m glad, too,” she replied. “I never get to go out on any interesting excursions unless I’m with you. My life would be so boring without you.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her. “I know how you feel, and Smitty said the same thing. That’s why he started taking things from your parents’ store. I guess Heather’s Forge is a pretty boring place, when you think about it.”

  “That’s what so great about you and your parties, Allie,” she told me. “That’s why people come to them and enjoy them so much. You’re injecting some much-needed lifeblood into this town. That’s why I hate to see you losing steam like this.”

  “I’m not losing steam,” I told her. “I guess I’m just spreading myself too thin. That’s all.”

  “You want to spread yourself thick,” she insisted. “We all need a whopping thick dose of Allie Garrett.”

  “That’s pretty funny,” I replied. “I still want to do that scavenger hunt. I had a few parties planned, but I think I’ll do the scavenger hunt first. That can start bringing money and guests to the inn while I work on the next party. Besides, Levi wants to take a trip after the next event.”

  “He does?” Eliza smacked her lips. “You are so lucky, Allie. You don’t know how many women in this town would love to get their hands on Levi.”

  “Yes, I do,” I muttered.

  “Well, you got him, so there’s nothing more the rest of us can do but tear our hair and wear sackcloth.”

  “I don’t see you tearing your hair and wearing sackcloth,” I returned. “When are you gonna get yourself a boyfriend?”

  “Never, I hope.”

  “Well, I’m going to New York with Levi for a few weeks after my next event, so I’ll need to have the inn running like a fine-tuned clock before that happens. This scavenger hunt will make it a lot easier for Molly when she’s running the front desk. She’ll hand out the paperwork to the guests, and they’ll never see the people again except at mealtimes. It’s the most brilliant idea yet.”

  “How are your experimenters going with it?” she asked. “Are they finding all the clues?”

  “They’re finding all the clues and even some they shouldn’t be finding,” I told her. “They’re out there watching Dale Thresher practice his bow shooting today.”

  Eliza gasped. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me? I would love to see that.”

  I groaned. “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re after Dale, too.”

  “It’s like you said,” she replied. “Heather’s Forge is a small town with nothing to do. If we can’t watch Levi hammering on the roof anymore, that leaves Dale. He might be gay, but he’s the best we’ve got.”

  “There must be something more… I don’t know, more wholesome to do in this town that ogling hot guys.”

  “What’s wrong with ogling hot guys?” she asked. “We were doing it to Levi for months before you showed up. Maybe we should put an ad in a big-city newspaper. Let’s see. How would it go? ‘Small-town ladies in search of stud-muffin for eye candy.’”

  I snorted. “Don’t even joke about that. I don’t see how you can degrade yourself.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” she returned. “You can look at Levi whenever you want for as long as you want. You should arrange special times for us to watch him when you’re not around.”

  “Excuse me,” I snapped, “but I am not going to arrange special times for you and your perverted friends to stare at Levi Stokes. Come on. Have some self-respect.”

  She laughed. “I’m just joking. Admiring Levi is just a little bit of fun to brighten up our boring lives.”

  I pulled my head down between my shoulders. I didn’t want to think abou
t that, and I didn’t want to make Levi into a joke. Knowing so many women fantasized about him was bad enough.

  Eliza picked up Pixie off the back seat and settled the cat on her lap. She petted the cat and mercifully said no more about Levi or Dale or any other guy for the remainder of the trip out to the inn.

  I parked the car, and when I opened my door, Pixie shot out, straight into the trees. I sighed. “Well, there she goes. I guess putting her inside was too much to hope for.”

  A hubbub of voices came from the trees, and I caught sight of my guests down by the stream. They splashed their feet in the water and cackled with laughter. “And then I told him,” Tanya was telling her friends, “I told him, ‘Why don’t you set up a spreadsheet to catalog all this information you’re collecting?’ And do you know what he said? You’re not gonna believe this. He actually said… Ha ha ha… He actually said, ‘I don’t know how to use a spreadsheet.’ Can you believe that? They want to take over the world or whatever it is they want to do, and he doesn’t know how to use a spreadsheet.”

  They all exploded in laughter one more time. Eliza and I exchanged glances.

  “Are these your investigators?” Eliza asked.

  I nodded.

  “I told him when he was President, he would have advisors and everybody working his spreadsheets for him,” Tanya went on.

  “And what did he say?” Gina asked.

  “He said he needed a virtual assistant.”

  The women hooted and chortled worse than ever. I had no idea what they were talking about, but they certainly were having a good time. They were having a much better time than I could ever give them with a mystery scavenger hunt.

  “We better go,” Eliza murmured.

  We headed for the inn. Once we got across the parking lot out of earshot, Eliza whistled. “Wow! Who knew you could have such a good time just looking for mystery clues?”

  I shot her a grin. “Maybe I should make up something like that for the townspeople of Heather’s Forge. I could do a scavenger hunt for inn guests and a different thing for the townspeople. They’re all sick of the murder mysteries. They already know every detail by heart.”

  Eliza gasped. “Hey! I’ve got it! You could do murder mystery weekends. You know what I’m talking about? Everybody checks in and somebody gets bumped off. Then everybody else has to figure out whodunnit. That’s perfect. You could charge out the wazoo for that, and everybody in town would come. You can bet your boots they would! That’s exactly what this town needs.”

  I patted her on the shoulder. “It is a good idea, darlin’, but it’s gonna take a load of planning, and I don’t have that kind of time right now. Let’s put one foot in front of the other. We’ll do the scavenger hunt. I’ll do one more party, and then Levi and I will take a vacation. After that, I’ll start doing this.”

  “You’re the best, Allie,” she exclaimed. “This town would be dead in the water without you. Promise me you’re gonna do it. You have to do it. It’s exactly what this town needs.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll do it. Just not right now. I’ve already got Levi and Camille and everybody else telling me I’m spread too thin, and now you want to spread me even thinner. Don’t load me up with something else to do until I’ve done the things I already have.”

  “Well, right now, we’re on our way to paint and sip—nothing more. That should give you some much-needed R&R.”

  “Just as long as Pixie doesn’t come in and start knocking over easels, I’m sure it will be great.”

  We climbed up the inn steps. Eliza went off to the library while I ducked into my apartment. I made a few hasty notes in my notebook about the murder mystery weekend plan. It really was a great idea. I loved events like that, and Eliza was right. It was exactly what Heather’s Forge needed.

  I had to make a conscious effort to tear myself away from my notes. Once I got busy planning something like that, it took on a life of its own. One idea led to another until I found it hard to stop.

  I slammed the notebook closed and hurried out of my apartment.

  Chapter 11

  I delivered the apples to Camille in the kitchen. She didn’t say anything about how late they were or how long I dilly-dallied in town. She thanked me for going out of my way to help her. If she only knew what I was really up to, she wouldn’t be so forgiving.

  Eliza and I found a bunch of people already congregating in the library. Abel Richards, my server from the dining room, manned the refreshments table loaded with coffee, tea, cookies, and cakes.

  People helped themselves to drinks and something to nibble. The more they took, the more Abel brought in to replace what they ate. A hum of friendly conversation greeted us when we walked in.

  Samuel Jenkins, the director of the Calliwell Museum, set up easels and canvases and paints for everybody. “Take you places, everyone, and we’ll start our first lesson.”

  Eliza and I got into position side by side, and Samuel threw back the curtains to reveal the view across the lake. An appreciative gasp went up from the attendees. I didn’t really notice the view. I saw it every day. It took a moment like that to really impress on my how beautiful my home was.

  I really was lucky to live at the Barrell Inn. I was lucky to run it, and Eliza was right about me having a guy like Levi in my life. I had a lot to be grateful for.

  “For our first painting,” Samuel was saying, “I would like you each to paint the lake as if you were standing on the shore outside the inn. Paint a small building on the far shore and include as much detail as you can.”

  “How are we supposed to paint a building that isn’t there?” I asked.

  “Use your imagination,” Eliza told me.

  “You don’t have to use your imagination,” Samuel replied. “There used to be a house there, but it burned down. Ashfield Calliwell lived there when he first moved to this area. That was before he got rich, and after the house burned down, he built his large mansion that everybody knows about. Nothing remains of the house but the old stone foundation. Not many people know about it. I want you to paint it as it would have appeared back then. Paint what someone on this side of the lake would have seen looking across to the old house.”

  I frowned at my canvas. I could paint something that was there. I could paint the lake exactly as it looked today. Adding something new? I wasn’t so sure about that. I never knew Ashfield Calliwell lived in a house across the lake. I looked across that lake from my apartment window every day. Did that house have anything to do with Beatrice’s connection to the Calliwells?

  I got lost in my painting. I matched the colors of the sky reflected in the lake’s smooth surface. I mixed and painted in the mountains. I left that little spot across the lake until the very last.

  What if Bea got married? What if she married Ashfield Calliwell? What if that was her wedding stuff in that shed, and the town kept this secret all these years? What if Bea was really Heather Calliwell’s mother or grandmother?

  Wouldn’t that be a hoot? What if my old aunt Bea was the real founding matriarch of Heather’s Forge, and nobody knew about it? No, that didn’t make sense. The dates were all wrong. Bea wasn’t near old enough to marry Ashfield or to be Heather’s grandmother. Bea wasn’t born until long after Ashfield and Heather were dead.

  Samuel circulated and commented on everybody’s painting. When he came to mine, he took one look and kept walking. “Nice work. Don’t forget the house.”

  Ah, the house. The house caused a problem. If there was a house out there, I had to see it. It could be the missing link between Bea and this case.

  I got so engrossed in my work I forgot about everything else around me until Eliza’s voice broke in on my thoughts. “There! How do you like them apples?”

  I glanced at her painting. It was absolutely fantastic. It looked like a photographic reproduction of the lake outside, right down to the nuances of color on water, sky, and trees. A tiny shingle house tucked into the trees opposite. I could almost imagine walking throug
h the front door.

  I looked back and forth between the painting and the view through the window. Except for the house, they looked exactly the same. “Eliza! How did you…?”

  She beamed at me. “Not too shabby, huh? I used to paint a lot in my younger days, but my dad told me not to quit my day job, so I got my certificate as a hairdresser. I sort of let it slip, though, and I haven’t done it in ages.”

  “Wow,” I breathed. “You’re amazing. I wish I could paint like that.”

  “Yours is okay, too,” she remarked.

  “Just okay,” I replied. “It’s not like yours.”

  “Yours is a good start for an amateur,” she told me. “You got some good color blending going on. You made a decent start.”

  “You still haven’t added the house, though,” Samuel broke in.

  I picked up my brush, but when it came to adding the house, I just couldn’t do it. “It doesn’t seem right. I guess I never was too good at artistic license.”

  “Go on,” Eliza urged. “Just imagine it’s there and paint it in.”

  I dabbed some dark gray onto my brush and painted in the stone foundation. “There. That’s as good as it’s going to get.”

  Samuel laughed. “All right. We’ll leave it there and break for tea. Clean your brushes, everybody.”

  Everybody crowded around the refreshments, and excited conversation broke out. I worked my way over to Mr. Jenkins. “How come nobody talks about the old house? How come it’s not listed on any of the tourist information?”

  “I guess people just don’t want to think about the great Ashfield Calliwell being poor,” he replied. “They want to remember him as the rich benefactor with the big house and the statue of his daughter on the green.”

  I chose my next words carefully. “Did Ashfield ever have any… you know, did he ever have any illicit romances that you know about?”

  His eyes flew open. “Not that I know about, but maybe the town has kept them hidden, just like the ruins of the old house. That would be the kind of thing they wouldn’t want visitors to know about. I don’t see that information getting publicized to the world at large.”