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A Story to Kill

Page 12

by Lynn Cahoon


  She turned back to her monitor. Drama belonged on the pages of her story, not in her life.

  Shauna brought up the coffee with a plate of still-warm shortbread cookies. “How’s the writing going?”

  Cat hit save before she turned around. “Good. I’m convinced that working every day is the secret to a book that holds together. I don’t have to refresh myself when I come back. I might have to schedule my own writing time even on weeks we’re doing the retreat.”

  “I can handle the group, especially around breakfast time. You just tell me when you want to write and we’ll get through it.” Shauna nodded to the cookies. “Tell me if you like those. I found the recipe online last night after I went to my room.”

  “You took the laptop with you?” Cat smiled, knowing her friend hadn’t wanted to use the computer any more than she had to for work.

  “Stop teasing. I’m learning.” She pointed to the ceiling where hammering had started. “Seth was already here and had already started a pot of coffee when I got down to the kitchen. The boy is a hard worker, I’ll give him that.”

  “I think he’s becoming too comfortable around here. We won’t be able to get rid of him once the project is done.”

  Shauna started walking out of the office and paused at the door, staring at Cat. “Are you sure you want to?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer, but Cat wasn’t sure she had one to give anyway.

  *

  When Cat turned off her computer a few hours later, happy with her progress, she ate the last cookie and grabbed her dirty dishes to take downstairs. At least with all the stair climbing, she hadn’t felt the effects of Shauna’s baking. Yet. There was that word again. She promised herself she would check into a local gym next week or at least schedule a hike up Sugar Hill a couple times a week. That should get her started on her way to increasing her metabolism and maybe even toning a bit. The hiking paths that wound around and up Sugar Hill had been claimed by the city a few years ago and now were marked and kept in good shape for local enthusiasts. Besides, in a few weeks, the first snow would coat the town and she’d have to resort to a gym treadmill.

  A delivery guy stood at the counter with a vase full of red roses. He set them down as she maneuvered the last few stairs. “Sorry, has anyone helped you?”

  “No need for a signature, we just like to know our flowers are delivered to the right place before leaving.” The guy looked at his clipboard. “Is there a Linda Cook here?”

  “She’s one of our guests.” Cat set the dishes on the sideboard and wiped her hands on her shorts. “There must be two dozen here.”

  “Three. The owner had to call in a loan from a shop in the next town. No one orders three dozen red roses.” The guy grinned. “I don’t know what he did to get into this much trouble, but boy, he’s pulling out all the stops to get out of the doghouse.”

  Cat watched as he left the lobby and jogged to his mini delivery van, an ASPEN HILL’S FLORAL decal on the side. She glanced around, reaching for the card as she checked for interruptions. She opened the envelope, and read aloud, “Thanks for a lovely evening. L.”

  Where had Linda said she’d been when her room was vandalized? Out with L, having a lovely evening with her husband not even released from the morgue to be buried? People were strange. She still had the envelope in her hand when Linda entered the front door of the lobby. Her blond hair was plastered to her head with sweat and she had on running clothes that, with the brand-name shoes, probably cost more than Cat’s first car.

  Linda wiped her forehead with the white towel draped over her neck and walked up to the counter. “Nothing’s better for a hangover than a long run.” She fingered one of the roses, petting it like a cat. “I love red roses. Tom used to send me a dozen on the first of the month. He said that if he didn’t then, he’d get caught up with his writing and forget to tell me how much he loved me.”

  “That’s sweet.” Cat handed the envelope over to her. “I was checking who they were for, and guess what, it’s you.”

  Linda frowned. “Tom couldn’t have known I was coming here. And why so many? He always just sent a dozen.”

  “Maybe the card explains.” Cat shrugged as Linda looked up at her.

  Linda smiled and pulled the card out of the envelope. She read the endearment and her smile disappeared. “I knew I was making a mistake.” She tore the card in half and handed Cat the pieces. “Throw that away for me and you can take the flowers. Maybe those women from your retreat would like them to brighten their room.”

  “You don’t want them?” Cat glanced at the vase. “They are beautiful and probably cost a lot of money.”

  “I don’t want them,” Linda repeated. “I’m going upstairs to shower and then I’m going to the police station to see when I can get Tom’s body released to the mortuary. I need to get out of this town.”

  Cat put the ripped card into the drawer in the lobby desk and grabbed the flower vase with one hand and the dirty dishes with another. If she walked slowly, she might just reach the sink before either hand gave up their treasure.

  She pushed the door to the kitchen with her butt and almost ran right into Shauna. She reached out and grabbed the dishes that were wobbling with the sudden stop.

  “Wow, those are gorgeous. Seth must be determined.” Shauna walked over to the sink and set the dishes down.

  Cat went to the table and set down the vase. “Not Seth. Some guy named ‘L’.”

  “You’re seeing someone with an initial instead of a first name? When did this happen?” Shauna slipped into a chair and patted the table. “Sit down and fill me in. You’ve been keeping secrets.”

  “And apparently I can be in two places at the same time,” Cat added dryly. “The flowers aren’t for me. They are, well were, for Linda. She wants us to put them into Rose and Daisy’s room as an inn decoration. She ripped up the card.”

  “Well, he wasted a bunch of money then. It’s never good when the recipient gives away something this lovely.” Shauna pulled three of the roses out of the bundle and took them to the sink. She opened the lower cabinet and took out a crystal stem vase. Cutting the stems so the roses were at three different levels, she tucked them into the vase and added water. She set the vase on the middle of the table. “If they’re for decoration, we should make good use of the beauty.”

  “The card said the flowers were from ‘L’. I think it’s Dean Vargas.” Cat remembered Tom’s story. Maybe they were rivals for more than just top dog in the department.

  “I don’t think that man has an ounce of the romantic in him. From what I hear through the grapevine, he’s more interested in notches on his bed frame than wooing someone his own age. I swear those old guys give me the creeps. Who wants a guy who has to take Viagra to keep it up?”

  “Eeww. I didn’t need that visual.” Cat grinned at her friend.

  Shauna shrugged. “Seriously, I had a ton of old guys at the bar who kept offering me the moon to run away with them. I could have been a trophy wife if I’d picked the right one.”

  “You’d be living the life of luxury instead of working in a little town in Colorado.” Cat shrugged. “I bet if you started skiing over at Vail or Breckenridge, you might find a new sugar daddy.”

  “Nope. When I decide to commit to someone it’s going to be all about love. Of course, that means I’ll probably find the ski bum who can’t hold a job once the season starts and fall head over heels with him.” She looked around the kitchen. “Living and working here at the retreat is sounding better and better.”

  “Good, because I don’t know what I’d do if you decided to take off and marry Mr. Right.” Cat picked the vase up. “Are the ladies writing over at the college?”

  “Yep. They left just after breakfast with that Sara girl. Billy’s still locked in his room. I knocked and offered him some coffee and it was like feeding lions at the zoo. I thought I was going to lose my hand.”

  “He’s in the zone. Writers get that way when the story’s
talking to them.” She stepped toward the door. “I’m only like that when I’m rounding the bend to the last few chapters. Those puppies always write faster for some reason.”

  “Don’t fool yourself. I’ve seen that look at the beginning, middle, and end of the book. Face it, writers are nuts.” Shauna booted up her laptop. “I need a new treat for this afternoon. Maybe something with apples? I bought a box over at the farmers’ market this morning.”

  “I can feel the waistband of my jeans tightening already. I think I’ll put these in the sisters’ room. They should enjoy them.” Cat took the steps up to the second floor landing and, using her universal key card, unlocked the door to the sisters’ room. Shauna had already provided the housekeeping service they offered, including clean towels for the en suite bath, and the twin beds were made and pillows fluffed. She walked over to the window where a small table was set up with two chairs, giving the guests a place to write. She moved a laptop over and put the flowers on the table near the windows. A sound drew her attention to the sidewalk below. Seth was cutting wood in the backyard, his shirt off and his tanned skin shining with a sheen of sweat.

  Her heart flipped and warmth filled her body at the sight. The guy had always been able to get to her. She really needed to get a handle on what they were together. Were they dating again? Was it a sexual attraction? Friends with benefits, maybe? Or did she have one more chance to get it right with her soul mate. He’d always laughed at the idea when they’d talk late at night under the stars. Soul mates were for romance stories and movies. Relationships took work; no one fell in love at first sight.

  Except she had. Twice.

  Chapter 13

  Cat tied her walking shoes. She stopped at the kitchen door on her way out. “Hey, I’m taking a walk to clear my head. I’ll be back in about an hour. You going to be okay alone?”

  “Not alone,” said Shauna. “Seth’s working upstairs. Do you want me to make you some lunch before you leave? You didn’t have much of a breakfast.” Shauna went to the fridge and opened the door, taking out a bottle of water and handing it to Cat. “I could make up a chicken salad really fast.”

  “I’m not hungry. Besides, I’m stopping by the library on the way back. If I’m starving, I’ll go to the diner before I come home.” She took the bottle and put it in her backpack.

  “Craving French fries?”

  Cat nodded. “And a fish sandwich. I’ve been eating too clean with you doing all the cooking. I don’t have any fat building up in my arteries.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you saw how much butter I used in those cookies you ate this morning.” Shauna waved her away. “Fine, go eat with the masses. I won’t get my feelings hurt.”

  “Your cooking is better than anyone’s in town. I’m just anxious and want to wander around a bit.” Something about Rose and Daisy’s room had seemed off, like one of those picture puzzles where you had to find the item that didn’t belong. She’d stood in the open doorway for more than five minutes, just looking at the room. It looked perfect, but for some reason, something nagged at her. She turned and instead of exiting from the kitchen door where she might run into Seth, she headed to the front. She called back to Shauna who now stood in her place in the doorway. “See you soon.”

  Shauna didn’t respond. Instead, she lifted her arm and pointed forward. Cat turned and ran directly into Seth’s broad chest. As she tried to right herself, the smell of his shower gel filled her senses. Strong hands pulled her upright, and she found herself face to face with the man she’d been trying to avoid. “Where are you running off to?” His mouth tweaked into a crooked grin.

  “For a walk.” She shrugged. It wasn’t his business and she really hadn’t been trying to avoid him, had she? Of course, she suspected that both of them knew she had.

  “Sugar Hill? They’ve done some work on the trails up there. It’s popular with all the tourists now.” Seth looked over her head at Shauna. “You should take a hike there sometime. Cat and I used to party at the parking lot with our high-school gang. Of course, they frown on that kind of behavior from the kids now.”

  “Sounds like lovers’ lane back home.” Shauna giggled. “Are you going to refresh some memories, Cat?”

  “I’m going for a freaking walk, that’s all.” Now she knew she was going to stop and get something fried and fat-filled from the diner, just to calm her nerves. She shrugged out of Seth’s grasp and stomped to the front door, knowing she was overreacting.

  The October air still felt warm. The temperature was either a promise or a warning of the cold weather to come, depending on your viewpoint. She had loved the tepid temperatures year-round in California, but honestly, she missed the changing of the seasons. As she walked down the street, fallen leaves crunched under her feet, the dry oak smell somehow reminding her of being in Seth’s arms just a few seconds ago. She’d have a sit down heart-to-heart with the boy sooner than later. She needed to know where they stood and make a decision on what she actually wanted. This time, she wouldn’t make decisions based solely on emotion.

  At the corner, Mrs. Rice waved. The neighbor was busy setting up a full-size fall extravaganza on her wide front porch. Four bales of straw sat around the area for seating and now she was binding together dried corn stalks. Pumpkins and gourds of all sizes were out on the lawn, waiting to be placed in just the perfect spot. Cat waved back and paused at the edge of the sidewalk. “Looking good.”

  “I love decorating for fall,” Mrs. Rice called back. “I think I might have bought too many pumpkins, though. Do you want some? I got them at the farmers’ market out near the high school.”

  “I’m sure Shauna would love some. She’s been talking about trying out some new pie recipes.” She nodded toward the college. “I’m running some errands, but if you want to leave a couple out on the yard, I’ll grab them on my way home.”

  “Maybe your nice young man would come help you carry them.” Mrs. Rice arranged a corn shock against the blue siding on her house. “It’s so nice to see the two of you courting again.”

  “We’re not …” Cat started, but just then her neighbor’s cell rang. Mrs. Rice pulled her phone out of a pocket on her jacket and smiled as she read the display.

  “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.” She walked back into the house but not before Cat heard the beginning of the conversation. “Mable, you won’t believe who I was just talking to. Cat Latimer. We were right about her and Seth …”

  Cat stood rooted to the sidewalk staring at the now closed front door. Small-town gossip. If she didn’t put a stop to it, she and Seth would be engaged and ready to elope even before their third date. Or their second third date. She ran her hand through her short hair and started powerwalking toward Sugar Hill.

  Ten minutes later, she stood in the lower parking lot. Seth had been right; the city had done a lot of improvements on the place where they used to sit on tailgates and drink beer. The dirt lot was paved. On the lot’s edge, a forest service outhouse had an asphalt walkway leading to it and a water fountain. A large sign near the trailhead marked off the official trails and distances. Pet owners were warned to keep their dogs on leashes and to clean up after them. The area had turned from a few dirt trails leading up to the mountain view overlook to this park.

  Cat wasn’t sure the progress made the area better. She grudgingly admitted it made the trails more accessible. She checked the trail map, reacquainting herself to her destination, taking her water from her backpack. After taking a couple of big drinks, she tightly recapped the bottle and slipped it back in her pack. Finally settled, she headed up the mountain.

  It took her twenty minutes to find the place she’d remembered. As she sat on a rock, watching the eagles float above the mountain canyon, she finished her water. A sense of calm flowed through her and she closed her eyes, listening to the bird calls. Soon, she heard the whistle of wind through the trees and when that stilled, she thought she could hear the creek splashing through the narrow canyon on her left.
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br />   She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, letting her senses take in the beauty of the place. “I missed this.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but now that she had, she realized it was true. She had loved sitting on the beach, watching the waves crash onto the sand. The beach had revived her in the same way this spot did. Then she had to drive back into town and fight the large number of people who seemed to be everywhere, enjoying the sunny California lifestyle. Here on the mountain, it was just her. And the birds. And probably a few animals. Bear, deer, and elk were hunted in this part of the forest, but she’d never run into any while hiking. She assumed they heard her and hid before she even had a clue that the animal was there.

  Sated, she made a promise to come up here at least once a week before the winter weather closed down the trails or made them accessible only by snowshoe. She wondered if Michael had kept the snowshoes they’d bought their first winter together. She’d have to go digging in the basement. Now that she’d opened his study and started revisiting their life together, she might as well make herself at home.

  She tucked her empty water bottle into her pack and made her way down the mountain. As she got closer, she heard loud, angry voices coming from the parking area. She stopped, wondering who else was out on a Friday afternoon. She could only tell it was a man and a woman. Or at least one couple. During high school, this area was also a great spot for breaking up since no one could overhear the fight. Especially in the middle of the day. She paused, hesitant to break into someone’s personal business, but there wasn’t a way off the mountain without following the trail through the parking area. The voices quieted and Cat decided that the major part of the fight must be over. She heard a car leave and she walked toward the lot.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her of her missed lunch. She turned the corner and heard the engine of another car start up. As she broke through the tree line into the clearing, she got a glimpse of the driver as he pulled out of the lot.

  The little red convertible MGB was familiar on campus, as was the driver, Dean Vargas.

 

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