Forest Outings (A Coffee and Crime Mystery Book 3)

by Nan Sampson

  “Ellie! What the hell is going on?”

  Charlie reached her, pulled her up onto the porch and into the cabin. Erik the Red followed them, thumping them both with his tail.

  Ellie sank down onto the couch while Charlie slammed the door closed behind them. “What was that? It looked like your own personal cyclone.”

  She was shivering, her teeth chattering. The amethyst, still clutched in her hand, was hot as blazes. She opened her fingers to discover that the stone was cracked in multiple places. “Damn.” That couldn’t be good.

  Charlie stirred the embers in the fireplace, got it going again then sat down next to her. “Damn what? What is going on?”

  She shook her head. She wished she had an answer, but she didn’t. “It was just the wind.”

  “Bullshit. If it was just the wind, why was Erik freaked out? I’ve never seen him growl or bark like that.”

  She stretched her hands out towards the fire, chilled to the bone. “What are you doing here?”

  He took her hands in his, warming them. “You left your keys. You’d have been SOL in the morning when you tried to go to work.” He pulled them out of his jacket pocket with one hand, tossed them on the coffee table, while the other held on to her right hand – the hand that still held the cracked amethyst crystal.

  “Jesus wept, Gooden. The shit that happens around you sometimes totally freaks me out.” He was gazing into her eyes, which she kept fixed on the crackling flames. She wasn’t sure what had happened, and she was feeling pretty freaked out herself. Another visit to Harmony was definitely in order – the woman seemed to know a thing or two about spirits.

  She took a couple of cleansing breaths, tried to pull herself together. “I need cocoa.”

  “Me too. Cocoa with a healthy shot of brandy in it. I’ll put the kettle on.”

  She tried to stand but he wouldn’t let her.

  “Sit. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you.”

  She stood up after he started to walk to the kitchen, her knees still shaking. “I can take care of myself, McCallum.”

  “I know that. Everyone knows that. Just humor me. Consider that this might help me, okay?”

  It was odd, seeing the unflappable Charlie shook up. His hands shook as he filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove.

  As he prepared the brandy-doctored cocoa, she stripped out of her coat and went back to sit by the fire. “I can’t believe I forgot my keys. I was sure they were in my jacket pocket.”

  He brought over two mugs and sat down next to her again. “I guess someone was looking out for you. You might have been blown to Kansas if I hadn’t come along.”

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d already banished the energy by the time he jogged up. Nor did she squirm away when he put his arm around her, but mostly because he was warm and she was still icy cold. That was her story and she was sticking to it. It had nothing to do with the fear that lay coiled in her belly like poisonous snake.

  “Thanks for bringing me my keys.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Erik jumped up on the couch, rested his head on Charlie’s lap. “I think the big guy is jealous.”

  Ellie laughed. “I think he just wants your cocoa.” She leaned against Charlie, feeling herself slowly starting to relax.

  “You realize I’m not leaving you here alone tonight.”

  That had her pulling away a bit. “Hold on there, McCallum.”

  He pulled her back against him. “I didn’t say I was planning on sharing your bed. I’ll happily spend the night on the couch. But I’m not leaving you alone.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I believe we already covered that. Doesn’t change anything.”

  She didn’t fight him. In truth, she was glad. For the first time in her life she really didn’t want to face the night alone. “You’ll probably have to fight Erik for the couch.”

  ‘We’ll come to an understanding.” He scratched Erik’s broad head. “I’ll give him two dog treats and he’ll sleep on the rug in front of the fire. Won’t you, boy?”

  If a dog could grin, Erik did.

  “That’s not an understanding, it’s a bribe.”

  Charlie shrugged and a ghost of his usual grin lit his face. “Whatever it takes.”

  Reluctantly, she pulled away. “Well, you know where everything is. I’m beat and four a.m. comes awfully early.” She stood, made her way to the ladder that led to the loft, then turned back. “Thanks, Charlie.”

  “I am, as always, at your service, your Majesty.”

  She climbed up, then tossed down an extra pillow and a couple of blankets. “What you are, McCallum, is full of shit.” She slipped into the alcove, curtained off by an old Navajo blanket, that served as her closet, stripped out of her clothes and into the pair of sweats and an old college hoody that served as her pajamas. “Good thing I like you that way,” she said as she climbed into bed. “G’night, McCallum.”

  Snuggling under her blankets with a smile, she listened as he arranged the blankets and the pillow on the couch while encouraging a reluctant Erik to vacate his normal sleeping spot. Finally, after he rummaged through her small bookcase for something to read – did the man never sleep? – she heard him settle in. In a soft voice he called, “Sweet dreams, Glenda Goodwitch.”

  Even his use of that stupid nickname he had for her made her feel safer. Ridiculously grateful for his presence, she closed her eyes and drifted into an exhausted sleep.

  Chapter Two

  If there was a god of bad news, Ellie thought, he was working overtime in Horizon. The next morning, after a fitful few hours of sleep, she’d left Charlie still snoring on the couch, scrunched up because Erik had claimed one end of it sometime during the night and headed out into the pre-dawn darkness. When she got to the shop at 5:00, she discovered the water pipes had frozen overnight. By the time she got that problem squared away, thanks to the judicious application of a blow dryer, Marg Kemp, her baker and all around helping hand, called to say she couldn’t get her Jeep started and was going to have to wait for her brother, Seth, to swing by and pick her up after he’d finished salting the walks at The Birches, the Bed & Breakfast he owned with his wife, Arabella.

  That meant Marg wouldn’t be here to start the muffins and the scones. Which meant that Ellie would have to do so, and she wasn’t a baker by any stretch of the imagination.

  The sun was a faint glow on the horizon by the time she got the first batch of muffins in the oven. She unlocked the shop door promptly at 6:30, then went back into the kitchen to check on the scones. Thank goodness her normal customers typically only asked for regular brew coffee and tea, so she wouldn’t have to man the espresso machines until the tourists made their appearance.

  If there were any tourists. The town had been dead as a doornail since right after Christmas. They’d had six weeks of empty streets, empty shops and empty cash registers. Soon, there’d be empty bank accounts too. Ellie was fortunate that a healthy percentage of her normal business came from the locals. Other shops in town were more gift oriented, and the bulk of their sales were tourist-driven.

  She heard the jingle of the bell on the door and glanced up at the cow shaped clock on the wall. 6:31. Must be Harvey Briggs, the postman. You could set your watch by Harvey.

  She wiped her hands on a towel and hurried out front.

  But it wasn’t Harvey.

  “Good God, however do you people survive in this horror?” Margaret Roesch stood peeling off exquisite emerald kid gloves, which couldn’t have done a damn thing to keep her hands warm. Her full-length fur coat was bundled up to her chin and held in place by a cashmere scarf with matching hat. Roesch stepped closer to the counter and peered disdainfully at the menu posted on the back wall.

  Ellie forced a cheery corporate smile. “Good morning.” She eyed the woman and used what her friends thought was an uncanny ability to predict what people would order. “You look like a woman in need of a v
anilla latte and I’ll bet you want that non-dairy and maybe with a double shot?”

  “Hmmm… well, given the dearth of choices I guess that will do. I don’t suppose you have cinnamon to go on top?”

  “Of course.” She pointed to the sugar and creamer station. “Right over there. Would that be a large?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anything to go with it, ma’am?” She refused to acknowledge that she knew who Roesch was. In all the months the woman had been in town this was the first time she’d been in when Ellie was manning the counter. She was determined to treat her like a stranger. Maybe she’d stay that way.

  Roesch glanced over at the nearly empty bakery case. “I’d say no, since there seems to be even less choices there.”

  If Roesch had been anyone else, even a nameless tourist, Ellie would have offered to get her one of the muffins that had just come out of the oven. Instead, she punched in the order on the register, took the woman’s credit card and hustled to prepare her drink, without another word.

  “So, word around town is that you’re not a local.” Roesch was leaning gingerly against the tall counter, watching Ellie the way foxes watched chickens.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Then what brings you to this little backwater of existence?”

  Ellie glanced up, trying to read the motive behind the question in the woman’s sharp, angular features. Green eyes that had to be enhanced by contact lens, a thin, pointy nose, and a slightly lopsided mouth, painted a startling shade of scarlet. From a distance, she appeared to be young and chic. But up close, the honey-colored hair was too flat, the make-up too thick although expertly applied, and the faint wrinkles too far advanced for Botox to completely eradicate. She was a woman fighting time.

  But time was a great teacher, and Ellie had grown too shrewd in her years in the corporate setting to let her face give anything away.

  She shrugged as she jacketed the thermal cup in a corrugated cardboard sleeve and snapped on the top. “Just needed a change of pace. Horizon is a great town.”

  “You’re from Chicago, right?”

  “I grew up in the suburbs, but essentially, yes.”

  “How on earth did you adjust? I mean, this place doesn’t even have a Target! Or a Starbucks!”

  Ellie kept her smile even. “You’re right. Perfect, isn’t it?”

  Roesch didn’t see the irony. “I’ve been thinking of buying some property here myself. A nice piece of land to build a country place on. But I have no idea where I’d even buy groceries. You don’t even have a proper grocery store. Where do you get your supplies?”

  “Well, day to day, there’s Jon-Peter’s Market. It’s just down the street and a block up 1st Avenue. But you could always drive into Summerville. They have a Piggly Wiggly there – that’s the closest thing to a chain store you’re going to get unless you want to drive all the way to Madison.” Which we’d all appreciate you doing, especially if you didn’t come back.

  The woman rolled her unnaturally green eyes. “It’s like living in another country.”

  Ellie handed Roesch her drink. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Like push you under the wheels of a tourist bus?

  The woman glanced up sharply at her, and Ellie wondered for a moment if she’d slipped and said the last bit aloud.

  “No. No, that’s all.”

  Ellie amped up her smile until she thought her face would break. “Okay, then. Thanks for stopping in. Have a great day!”

  She turned her back on the real estate developer and went back through the swinging door into the kitchen. A moment later, she heard the door jingle then bang shut as the woman departed.

  Gods. What a piece of work. Pushing the woman out of her thoughts, she had just started to turn out the muffins when the door jingled again.

  As she hurried back out front, Harvey Briggs slipped furtively inside the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “She’s gone, right? I been waitin’ across the street, in the alley between The Goose’s Shoes and the Dry Cleaners, until the coast was clear.”

  “Yes, Harvey, she’s gone.”

  “What the hell was she doing here? She’s not trying to buy you out, is she?”

  Ellie laughed. “No. I think we’re safe on that account. She’d rather my shop be bulldozed so they can build a Starbucks.”

  “Ye Gods. Arabella says she normally doesn’t even get out of bed until ten o’clock. You’d think a man’d be safe at this hour. What’s she doin’ out and about so early?”

  “I have no idea. Getting coffee?”

  “Hmph. She’s up to something.”

  “Maybe her broom broke down as she was flying back to town last night and she had to wander back on foot.”

  He was continuing to look over his shoulder, and Ellie thought he might actually spit over it. “Wouldn’t be at all surprised. Horrible creature.”

  Ellie was already preparing his coffee, just the way he liked – regular brew with plenty of sugar and cream. She handed him both tall cups, filled to the brims, and took the money he handed her, while he threw glances back through the glass fronted door. “S’like having a black cat cross your path, Ellie. I’ll spend the whole day waiting for something bad to happen.”

  “You want a muffin to go with that this morning, Harve? They’re blueberry today. Fresh out of the oven.”

  He took a sniff of the warm, cinnamon-laden air. “Oh, yeah. They smell great. Hey, where’s Marg?”

  “Car wouldn’t start. She’s gonna catch a ride in with Seth in a little while.”

  “So, you’re doin’ the bakin’ today?”

  “It’s okay. I followed her recipe to the letter. No more experimenting for me.”

  “Oh. Well, in that case I’ll take two. This cold makes a man hungry.”

  Ellie eyed Harvey’s paunch but just smiled. If the man spent as much time delivering as he did talking and cadging free food from all the shops on his route, he’d be as skinny as an old fence post. She packed up three muffins for him, knowing that they’d just have left overs that would go to waste anyway, then handed him the little wax paper sack.

  “You stay warm out there today, Harvey.”

  “Oh, trust me. With these new wool socks my sister knitted me, I’ll be as toasty as a corn fritter all day.” He scurried to the door and peered out into the virtually empty street. “You be careful of that viper, Ellie. She’s up to no good, comin’ in here, chattin’ you up like that. You just watch your back.”

  “Thanks, Harvey, I will.”

  He gave her a backward wave then slipped out the door like a Russian courier in West Berlin.

  He might be a bit nutty… but he might also be right. What was the odious Margaret Roesch doing out and about at this hour of the morning? What had her questions really been about? Clearly, she no more cared about Ellie and where she was from than Ellie cared about her. Which left her wondering if there been a reason for those questions? Could she be looking to invest in some business in town?

  Ye Gods but that was a scary thought. With the lack of business lately, there’d probably be a few shop owners in town who’d be easy prey.

  It was something to bring up at the next ShopTalk meeting, which, barring acts of God or Nature, would be Thursday night. She laughed as she always did, at the name. It sounded so official, when really, it was little more than a dozen or so of the local merchants getting together for drinks and pub fare at the local watering hole, The Cloak and Dagger. They spent about fifteen minutes each meeting talking about business – or complaining about business – and any tourist events in the offing, like the Annual Halloween Parade or the Victorian Christmas Fair. The rest of the evening was then devoted primarily to eating, drinking beer or whatever, and gossiping in a good-natured way about the merchants who either hadn’t shown up or hadn’t been invited to join their little group in the first place. There were few enough of latter since they were a friendly and inclusive bunch, and few enough of the former too because everyone knew
they’d be the topic of conversation if they didn’t come.

  The Odious Margaret had been a favorite topic of conversation over the past few months. Ellie wondered how many other shops the developer had visited or would be visiting, and if anyone else had been able to better suss out the woman’s motives.

  She finished placing all the muffins and then the scones in the bakery case before the bell on the door jingled again. She’d been expecting her next usual customer, Laura Lincoln, who owned the town’s used book store, and was one of Ellie’s dearest friends in Horizon.

  But instead it was another surprise visitor.

  “Hey, Ellie! Long time, no hug!”

  Ellie came around the edge of the counter, grinning. “Joshua Mough! What are you doing back in town?” She gave the tall young man a hug and was squeezed back so hard, she couldn’t catch her breath.

  Joshua was Patti and Earl Mough’s eldest child. He’d left town the year before Ellie arrived, to go work with a non-profit environmental organization based out of Madison called The Whole Earth Society. But she’d gotten to know him well over the summer when he’d come back to town for a couple of months for a much-needed period of recuperation after a hunger strike, and the two had become fast friends, despite the nearly ten-year difference in their ages.

  Tall and blond-haired, he had the wholesome, handsome features of a Midwest farm boy, and a lean, nicely muscled body to go with it. The girls in town had fought like crazy over him, never knowing that it was a completely hopeless battle. Ellie had been the first person Joshua had come out to, and she’d kept his secret safe until he’d felt ready to tell his family, just before he returned to Madison to resume his job. Although it had shocked no one, Josh preferred they keep the information to themselves until he’d decided just how “out” he wanted to be with the world at large, and so it had remained.

  He squeezed her hard one last time, released her, then walked back with her to the counter. “Me and a couple of the folks I work with are on our way to a symposium in Dubuque. It’s not until Saturday, so we left Mad City early so I could stop in for a few days and look in on Mom and Dad.”