by Lynn Cahoon
Angie shook her head. The tomato soup had seemed a good choice, but the taste was flat. Definitely not made in the kitchen. She held up a card. “The menu is pretty limited. Mostly it looks like they are providing lunch just for people who drive out for a wine tasting. Although they will put a picnic basket together for you if you want to head to the river and eat there.”
“That’s a great idea.” Felicia grabbed her notebook out of her purse. “Maybe we can steal it for The County Seat.”
Angie pushed the soup away and tore off a bit of the French bread. “We’d have to advertise it as a BYOB. I don’t think our alcohol license allows people to take wine off the premises for consumption.” The picnic idea was a good one though. Maybe she could find some cheap baskets that they could afford to provide as well. So many ideas, and they only had a few weeks before opening night. She looked at Felicia’s half-eaten sandwich. “Get that to go or hurry up. I’ve got to get you back to town and me home before Dom eats his way through the back door.”
“He wouldn’t do that, would he?” Felicia waved the waitress over for their check.
The young woman shook her head. “Sorry, Rob said your lunch was on him today. No charge.”
“Well, wasn’t that nice of him? Tell him thanks the next time you see him.” Felicia stood, brushing crumbs off her lap. She followed Angie out to the car. “Wine list done. Now I just have to nail down the microbrew guy. Before you look at me like that, I had a guy lined up, but he bailed on me. Something about his licensing. So I went to this new guy who’s been highly recommended, but he’s been out of town. Don’t worry, I have a backup plan in place in case we can’t get this deal closed. But we’ll be serving domestic beer for a few weeks.”
“I guess we could open without a beer selection, but it’s not ideal.” Angie opened the car doors. As she looked past the winery down the road that lead to the cabin, she realized she could reach Mr. Moss’s ranch from this side too. Maybe she’d bring Dom out for a walk this afternoon. If she was going to be asked about the guy’s death, maybe she should know more about how he really died.
“Earth to Angie, what are you thinking about?” Felicia stared at her friend.
She started the car and pulled out of the driveway and away from the river canyon. “I think I’m taking Dom for a long walk this afternoon.”
By the time she got Felicia back to the restaurant and drove the rest of the way home, she had started to worry that she’d really tested Dom’s patience. When she opened the back door, he came bounding outside, ran to the patch of grass and did his business. Then he came and gave her loves. She peeked inside the kitchen and was surprised to see no major damage. “What a good boy you were.”
Mabel squawked like she totally disagreed then scratched at the dirt in front of the garden again. “Not a fan, are you?” Angie asked the chicken, but got no response. The paper had been delivered and was in the small box attached to her mail box post. She and Dom walked out toward the road, with Angie checking to make sure there weren’t any cars coming, then hurried back to the house. Dom went inside first and headed to his food and water bowls. Angie sat at the table and spread out the paper.
“Long-term Local Citizen Killed in Freak Accident.” She read the headline aloud. Glancing through the article, the reporter said that the body had been found by an early morning hiker coming up the hill from the riverside park below. The article didn’t mention that the police were investigating anyone. She looked at the small map showing the area where the body had been found. As she suspected this afternoon, the winery was just minutes away. When she looked up at Dom, the puppy was watching her closely. Maybe it was for Nona, or maybe she was just curious, but she made a decision. “Let’s go see what we can find out.”
It was one of the perfect June afternoons she’d remembered from her childhood. Warm, sunny, with a sky the color a painter could only imagine. Coming home to live after losing Nona and closing el pescado had been the right decision. Now, all she had to do was make The County Seat successful and she could stay. Dom barked out the window at a field full of bored Black Angus cows as they drove past.
“You told them.” Angie glanced at him in the rear-view mirror and grinned at the happy look on her dog’s face. She turned up the tunes and thought about the idea of murder. She wasn’t a trained investigator, but just something in the way everyone apparently knew she’d been out to see Mr. Moss on Sunday made her uneasy. Besides, she was just taking her dog for a walk. If she happened to see where he fell, maybe she could confirm the paper’s report that the death had just been an accident. That would make her feel better at least. Sheriffs don’t come knocking on your door when there’s been an accident.
She pushed the voice away as she drove by the empty winery parking lot. Apparently, they didn’t get much traffic on weekdays. Even the dining room had been almost empty when they had lunch. Angie had assumed the crowd had already left, but maybe lunch times were just slow. Thankfully, she’d planned on opening only on weekends for the first couple months until they had their feet under them. Once the reservations started filling, she’d add a day or so during the week.
Angie angled the car down the winding road and just before the road crossed the bridge, she turned left into the park that was supported by the state parks department. Celebration Park was a great place for hiking, cycling, or even fishing. She’d hung out here on many nights with her high school gang, talking about what they were going to do once the graduation bell rang and they were released from their educational prisons. Had Rob Harris been one of that group? Of course, most of the kids talked about getting jobs or leaving town. Angie knew she wanted to go to school, but had no idea for what. General studies, her counselor had suggested, hinting that a major might find her while she tried different careers. The woman had been right.
She parked the car near the unmanned visitor center and went to the back door to click a leash on Dom and let him out. The center had a map of the hiking trails posted on the front of the building and she paused there, trying to determine where Mr. Moss’s farm was located on the ridge. She ran a finger across the line indicating the path, then angled it down to where she stood. All the trails were named after native birds and the one she thought she wanted was named Red Hawk. She pulled Dom’s leash tearing him away from his watching a bee perched on a wild flower and they started their walk.
The trail gently angled upward, but Angie could feel the grade increasing as they made their way away from the parking lot. Her throat tickled, making her wish she’d grabbed a bottle of water from the house. Next time, she thought as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. And she wished that she’d put on a baseball cap as well. She knew better than to come hiking unprepared, but then, she wasn’t really hiking, was she?
Angie paused at a switchback in the trail to glance around. They were about halfway up the hill. Farther down the riverbank, the ridge broke off into a rock canyon wall instead of this hill that allowed them to hike to the top. Of course, rock climbers could probably make the top there, but they didn’t have a hundred-pound St. Bernard on a leash. Dom sat next to her and nuzzled her hand. He was breathing hard as well.
“You can have some water as soon as we get back to the car.” Angie scratched behind his ear. She kept a bottle of water and a bowl in the car for Dom, just in case. She glanced around one more time. What had she expected to find? All she saw was vegetation and the dirt trail leading farther up the hill. As she examined her surroundings, the sound of someone running down the trail made her focus above her.
Reana Whiting ran down the trail, alone. Or ran as fast as she could in a pair of stilettos. She was dressed in a red skirted suit that matched her red pumps. Her hair was disheveled and her face looked almost as red as the fabric in her clothes. She saw Angie and skidded to a stop, almost face planting forward when her shoe hit a patch of loose gravel.
“What are you doing out here?” Angie hel
d Dom close. The woman was excited enough, she didn’t need a large dog giving her the once over. “You really need to learn what casual means.”
“What?” Reana brushed her hair back with her hands and then pulled on her skirt. “What do you mean?”
Angie noticed that her realtor had ignored the question she’d asked. She pointed at the woman’s shoes and clothes. “Those aren’t approved for hiking. Unless I missed the memo.”
Reana paused, straightening her jacket as she apparently thought of what to say. “I should have waited to come down here after work. I just needed some time to think after hearing about Gerald, and this was the first place that came to mind. Then I started walking and before I knew it, I was on the ridge. Now, I’m late for a showing.”
“I’m sorry about Mr. Moss. The two of you were friends?” Angie knew she was blocking the trail and with those shoes, Reana couldn’t very well just move around her.
“Not really. I mean, he didn’t like anyone. When I saw you up there Saturday—”
Angie interrupted. “Sunday. We saw each other Sunday.”
“No, it was Saturday. I know it.” She looked at her watch again, then stepped toward Angie. “Anyway, I really need to be going. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”
Angie stepped aside and let the woman pass. She and Dom watched as Reana disappeared down the trail. As they returned to their own walk, Angie paused and peered downward, trying to see the parking lot. “I didn’t see another car in the lot, did you boy?”
Dom didn’t answer as he was too busy sniffing at pile of dirt.
“Never mind, let’s go.” Angie took two steps and then Dom froze. She pulled on his leash but he wouldn’t budge. “What on earth is wrong with you?”
She knelt beside him and looked at his paws, wondering if he’d gotten a sticker. Nope, nothing. Then she heard a small whine. And she felt something on her back. She spun around and there was Precious, the baby goat, staring at her.
“Where did you come from?” She reached out her hand and the goat came and stood next to her, leaning in for what Angie thought of as a hug. Dom whimpered.
“It’s okay, boy, she’s just a baby.” Angie stood and glanced around. No sign of any other goat. And she had no idea how to get to Moss Farm from the trail. She made a decision and picked up the little goat. “I’ll get you home.”
Precious bleated again. And this time, Angie saw a scrap of red fabric in the side of her mouth. Apparently Reana had been running from the goat and Precious had gotten a bite of the woman’s suit. So where had Reana been? And why was Precious out here all alone?
Angie had too many questions, but the first thing she needed to do was get the lost goat back to its mother.
She put the goat in the back of the crossover behind the dog barrier. Then she let Dom in the back seat. He stared at the goat, now in his car, and whined again.
“Hold on, it’s not far to the farm.” She got back on the road and was relieved when both Dom and Precious laid down for the ride. Her cell rang and she picked up using the car’s Bluetooth.
“What are you doing? Do you have time to talk about schedules?” Felicia’s voice boomed through the car. Dom sat up, looked around, then laid back down, apparently convinced his friend wasn’t actually close by.
“I’m taking a goat back to Moss Farm. Let me call you when I’m home.”
Instead of a response, all Angie got was silence. Maybe cell service was spotty out here.
“Hello? Are you there?” Angie turned onto the road where the farm sat.
“I’m here. I’m not sure I want to ask, but why do you have a goat?”
Angie caught a glimpse of Precious in the cargo hold. Her lips curved into a smile. “Long story. I’ll call you back when I get home.”
She found the farm, but when she drove into the driveway, there were no cars near the barn and the house appeared to be locked tight. She walked over to the barn where a sheet of paper flapped in the wind. She got out of the car and went over to read the sign. Milking is at five am and five pm. If you are here other than those times, you are trespassing. Please call this number with any questions. 208-922-4111.
Angie hurried back to her car and grabbed the phone. When she dialed the number, she got one of those voice mails that had a robotic response. She left her name and number and added, “It’s an emergency!” at the end.
She looked back at Dom who looked hopeful that they might be dropping the offending goat off where it belonged. She reached back and scratched his ear. “Sorry buddy, we can’t just leave her alone here. Something might happen to her.”
The look in Dom’s eyes made her think he wasn’t too sure that wouldn’t be the best idea but when Angie started up the car, he sighed and laid his head on the seat. Precious was curled into a ball sleeping, apparently happy with her first car ride.
What on earth was she getting into? Angie headed toward home and some semblance of normalcy.
CHAPTER 6
Precious went into the small back yard and went straight to trimming down the grass Angie hadn’t mowed that week. After she went into the house and got the goat a water dish, she scanned the fencing and decided that it would be good enough to keep the baby goat inside. She didn’t leave Dom out alone in the fenced yard as the picket fence was way too short and not very sturdy in places. With his weight, he could lean on sections and break it down. Precious couldn’t weigh more than five to ten pounds.
She went into the kitchen and started taking out fish and veggies for dinner. She wanted to try out a new recipe that she might include on the opening menu, but not until she tried several versions herself. She hit speaker on her cell and called Felicia while she worked.
“What’s up? Did you ditch the goat?”
She rinsed off the peppers and small summer squash. Turning off the water, she sighed. “Actually no. I’ve called someone but until he or she calls me back, I guess I’m hosting a sleep over. The sign said they milked at five. Maybe someone will call me then.”
“How do you know it’s even Old Man Moss’s goat? It could be wild.”
Angie stared out the kitchen window at the small black baby wandering through her back yard. “No, I met Precious on Sunday. It’s the same goat. I just wonder where her mom is?”
“Maybe she got out too?” Felicia rustled papers. “Anyway I believe I’ve hired three main servers, one backup, and a bartender. You have all the kitchen staff hired, right?”
“I’m missing a sous chef still. Weren’t you looking into that with the college?” Angie peeled a carrot, still watching the goat. This felt right. This felt comfortable.
She watched as Precious ran up to the side of the yard and vaulted right over the short fence. “Crap, hold on…”
Angie ran outside and scooped up Precious who was now checking out Mabel and eating the chicken’s feed. The goat turned toward her and bleated. “You are supposed to stay in the yard.”
She glanced around. The barn hadn’t had a main door for years, there was no way to keep the goat closed up there. She saw Dom’s chain. She’d have to shorten one of his collars but if she could get one small enough to stay on Precious, it might work.
Angie took the goat into the kitchen and closed all the doors before sitting her down on the floor. Dom whined. “It’s okay, she’ll only be in here for a while.”
“Are you talking to me? I can barely hear you.” Felicia’s voice came over the speaker.
Angie stood near the phone, digging through what Nona had called the junk drawer. And then she found it. One of the cat collars. Nona’s last cat had died a few weeks before she had. Angie thought it had known her master was leaving this plane of existence. “Sorry, I have an escape artist here. Can I call you later?”
“Sure. I’ll follow up with the college and call you tonight.” Felicia paused. “Take a picture of the new addition.”
/> “I’m not keeping her,” Angie called out, but then she realized Felicia had already ended the call.
She got the cat collar on the goat, then took her back out to the yard and hooked her up to the clothes line. Nona had set up a tether for her indoor cat that ran the back side of the yard. Angie moved the water dish, then went into the barn and got a large cup of the feed she gave Mabel. Then she climbed the porch to the back door.
Precious tried to follow and tested her lead. When she realized she couldn’t go any further, she bleated out her frustration.
Angie paused at the door watching the baby struggle, then give up and lie down, still munching on grass. Satisfied that the goat was going to stay put, at least for a while, Angie went back to her kitchen and made dinner. Actually, she made three dinners. Each one with a little different mixture of vegetables and a different sear on the fish. She took pictures of each, finished making notes on the preparation, then sat down to judge the three.
She heard a car’s tires in the gravel of her driveway just as she picked up her fork.
Standing, she went to the door to see who was visiting. If it was Felicia, she could help choose the version that would go on the menu. If any.
Angie recognized the wagon immediately. Ian McNeal got out of the front seat and went to the back, pulling out a burlap bag of some sort of feed. He came up to the porch and dropped it off near her front door. “I can put this in the garage if you’d like.”
“Until I find out what is in the bag, right there is fine. What are you doing here?” She eyed him suspiciously.
Instead of answering, he walked over to the gate and called to Precious. “Hey pretty girl. How do you like your new digs? Smart idea on the leash. That girl’s a Houdini.”
“You know Precious? Can you take her back to the farm?” Hope swelled in Angie’s throat. Not that she didn’t like the little thing, she just didn’t have time.