Forest Outings (A Coffee and Crime Mystery Book 3)

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Forest Outings (A Coffee and Crime Mystery Book 3) Page 10

by Nan Sampson


  Charlie was sitting cross legged on the couch, his computer in his lap, tapping madly on the keyboard.

  He looked up as the wind literally blew her in the door and grinned his signature smile at her.

  Her stomach did a little flip and she found herself grinning back. Like an idiot.

  “Hey. How was business?”

  “Fine.” She suddenly didn’t know how to talk to him, or what to say.

  “Fine? How uncharacteristically monosyllabic.” He chuckled, then glanced back down at the keyboard. “Hang on a sec, let me finish this email. I need to check on the oven too.” His fingers clattered on the keyboard for a few more seconds.

  “I’ll do that,” she offered.

  He clicked something then set the lap top aside and jumped to his feet. “No. I mean, I’ll do it. Don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  She hung up her coat, feeling a little like a guest in her own home. “Surprise?”

  “Dinner. I got a recipe from Per I thought I’d try out. I’m not generally much of a cook, but Per has been, well, coaching me.”

  That made her laugh. “Oh boy. That’s scary. Two men teaching each other Home Ec.”

  “Come on, you know he’s a whiz in the kitchen. Did you know he used to work as a short order cook when he was in college?”

  She was surprised, not only by the information, but that Charlie seemed to know more about Per’s past than she did. “Really?”

  He hurried to the stove and opened the oven door to peek inside. “Excellent. It’ll just be a couple of minutes more. You timed your arrival perfectly.”

  Three long strides brought him back to the couch. “Come sit down. I want to show you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve been busy too. Checking up on our old buddy Link.” He winked at her as she took his advice.

  He opened up a window on his laptop and pointed to a list of names. “Look at that.”

  She looked, but it meant nothing to her. “What am I looking at?”

  “That’s a list of shareholders for Garnet Oil.”

  “So?”

  “So, you see that there? Leonetta Fairweather? That’s Link’s mother.”

  “Okay, so his mother own’s stock in Garnet Oil. So what?”

  “Indeed, you might well ask, ‘so what’. Well, here’s the so what. Not only does his mother own a considerable amount of stock in Garnet Oil, but in three other petroleum companies as well. Not to mention two large paper mills and several pharmaceuticals companies.”

  She wasn’t getting it. Apparently having sex also shut down her higher cerebral functions as well. “Okay, so his mother has made some shrewd investments. I presume she’s not losing money.”

  “On the contrary, she’s fairly swimming in it. Or she should be.”

  Ellie began to see. “But?”

  “But she’s not. In fact, last month, she had her electricity turned off.”

  “What?” That was incredulous. “Wait. Maybe she’s just bad at paying her bills on time. Lots of people are like that.” Something else occurred to her. “Anyway, how do you know that?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t want to know. Suffice it to say I have a way. It isn’t that she’s bad at paying her bills on time. She didn’t have the money to pay it. She’s consistently overdrawn, is our Mrs. Fairweather.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It does if all that money pouring in from those investments isn’t really going to her.”

  Ellie thought for a moment. “You’re proposing that those are really Link’s investments, but he’s put them under his mother’s name. Surely she has to put all this stuff on her income tax, right? So if she knows about them, wouldn’t she be demanding some money?”

  “Not necessarily. Remember, your folks were modern people. Your mother was the epitome of the result of the women’s movement. I suspect that Reverend Mueller’s girls were not so… liberated. If the taxes are prepared for her, by Link’s accountant, say, and if she’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, she might not even understand it all. He could just tell her to sign on the dotted line, and not worry her pretty little head about all the details.”

  “So you’re saying that he’s swindling his own mother? That’s despicable.”

  “Oh, it gets better. Not only is he swindling his mother, but if this is true, then he’s pulled one over on the whole damn country. Most of these companies are among the worst of the worst in terms of their environmental policies. Oil companies, fisheries, paper mills. These are the companies The Whole Earth Society would love to put out of business.”

  She stared into the fire. If it was true, it was monstrous. “The logging company they had their hunger strike at – what was the name of it?”

  Charlie grinned wickedly. “I’m way ahead of you. It’s Franklin Industries, out of Tacoma, and gosh, wouldn’t you know it, Link’s mama owns two hundred shares.” Charlie was nearly vibrating with excitement. “But it gets even better than this. If my suspicions are right, Link isn’t just a giant fraud, he’s passing information to these companies, letting them know what The Whole Earth Society is up to.”

  It seemed incomprehensible. Reprehensible. “But…”

  “I think Link is the ultimate double agent. I think he’s set himself up to be this great crusader, while his real agenda is to make sure these companies are protected from the very organization he claims to be a part of.”

  “Do you have proof?”

  “No, just speculation and even if I did, he’s not doing anything illegal.”

  “What about false representation?”

  “I suppose Whole Earth could try to sue him on those grounds, but I don’t think their pockets are deep enough to compete with Link. Not to mention the publicity. They’d look like idiots. No one wants to donate money to an organization that’s been duped this badly.”

  There was no sound for a moment but the crackling of the fire and Erik’s panting. “Charlie this is… monstrous. What can we do?”

  Patting the couch next to him, Charlie made room for the dog. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do. At least not at the moment. None of the information I have could be used in court anyway – it was all obtained in, well, less than a legitimate fashion.”

  “What if we confront him?”

  “Then he’ll laugh at us and tell us to prove it. Which we can’t.” He gave a frustrated sigh. “But give me a little more time. I’m following some more threads – maybe one of them will lead me to something we can use.”

  She glanced at him – watched the firelight flicker in his eyes. “Thank you. I mean it. You don’t even know Josh.”

  “Seems to me we had this conversation back in November – about Lacey. I may not know Josh, but I know you and I know he’s important to you. Besides. Link needs to be brought down.”

  He jumped up. “Time to pull out the casserole. Don’t want my first culinary experiment to burn.”

  She walked with him to the kitchen, curious and a little apprehensive. “So what kind of casserole is this? It doesn’t have lutefisk or anything in it, does it?”

  “I don’t even know what a lutefisk is, so the answer there is no. Nothing in it that you wouldn’t ordinarily put in your mouth.”

  He opened the oven and pulled out an unfamiliar white ceramic casserole dish she hadn’t known she possessed. She could just see the top of the casserole inside, which appeared to be covered in something crunchy and orange…

  He whisked it to the table and presented it with a flourish. “Ta da! Homemade macaroni and cheese casserole. Just like mom used to make.”

  Ellie dissolved into pealing laughter. It was a long moment before she could explain to Charlie what was so funny and even then he didn’t really get it, but whatever else, it had eased the strange sense of uncomfortableness she’d felt upon coming home and reinforced the new and unfamiliar feelings she was just starting to be able to acknowledge.

  The
only one who slept on the couch that night was Erik.

  Chapter Seven

  The next day at the shop was business as usual. The morning was a blur of familiar faces, with a handful of tourists thrown in for good measure. Pre-lunch sales were unexpectedly good, as a bus load of shoppers rolled into town.

  Lunch with Per had a been a little awkward at first, but they kept to neutral topics, and by the time she left, she felt as though they were back on solid footing. Truthfully, she had to admit to herself that the only one who probably felt off had been her. Per seemed his usual self throughout.

  The afternoon slowed a bit, although the tourist bus didn’t leave until four, and there was a rush just before the smelly thing lurched out of town. Ellie had sent Marg home early, and she was getting ready to close up shop when Josh showed up unexpectedly.

  He stood in the doorway, his hat literally in his hands, and looked for all the world like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Um, Ellie? Am I still welcome here?”

  She finished rinsing out the last of the expresso carafes in the sink and turned to face him, wearing her most reassuring smile. “Of course you are. Cup of cider?”

  “No, no. I just stopped by to apologize. I don’t know what got into me the other night.” He let out a long breath. “I guess maybe it’s all this stuff with my folks, plus, well, this symposium thing’s got me a little rattled. I don’t do well speaking in front of large groups of people – heck that’s what Link’s usually for.”

  “There’s no need to apologize.” She went around the counter and gave him a hug. “I’m worried about your folks too, but Per seems to think that no matter what, they’ll land on their feet and he’s known them longer than either of us. We’ll just have to trust them – and the Goddess – to make sure things work out the way they’re supposed to.”

  He took a seat at the counter, and Ellie returned to her chores. “I always thought God helped those who help themselves, but at the moment, I can’t see how best to be God’s elf here.”

  She nodded. But having no practical ideas, she could only shrug. “I won’t tell you it’ll all be okay – there may be hard times ahead, whether they decide to sell or not. But I do believe that all things happen the way they’re supposed to, and you know that if the worst should happen, there are more folks in this town who would open their homes and their hearts to your mom and dad than there are who wouldn’t.”

  “You’re feeling philosophical today.”

  She stopped wiping down the counter and stood with her hands braced on it. “Sometimes you need to stop and re-evaluate. I’ve been having to do that lately.”

  He looked down at his hat, which he was still twisting in his hands. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Ellie—“ He stopped and bit his lip.

  “What, Josh?”

  “Never mind. Look, I came by with a peace offering. My folks are coming into town tonight, and I’m inviting some folks to have dinner with us at The Birches. A sort of celebration before we head out in the morning. I know you’ll probably say no, especially after the other night, but it would mean a lot to me if you and Charlie would come, so I can make it up to you. I promise, there will be no repeat performances. I’ve sworn off booze forever.” He smiled shyly. “Well, at least for the week.”

  Ellie tried not to frown. She wanted nothing more than to curl up at home with Charlie, a good book and her big, over-affectionate mutt. No sooner had she thought that then she startled at the idea. Is that what she really wanted? How… odd.

  “Please?” His whiskey brown eyes looked imploringly at her. “Mom and Dad would love to see you – Mom says what with all the stuff going on at the farm, you all haven’t been able to see much of one another since the holidays.”

  “I… sure. Of course. I’d love to.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I don’t know about that. But I’m glad you’ll be there anyway and like I said, no more scenes, I promise.”

  “We could prevent that by leaving Link out of the picture.”

  He grimaced. “Unfortunately, he’ll be there. Does that make you change your mind?”

  She shook her head. “No, but I’ll be sure to wear my waders.”

  Josh laughed and for the first time she saw the mirth make it to his eyes. “Yeah, he can sling it pretty deep, but he’s not that bad really. You just have to factor in a bull shit percentage to anything he says.”

  “Huh. Yeah, well. Anyway. What time should we be there? I hope this isn’t a formal shin dig. I don’t think Charlie owns anything but jeans and plaid shirts. The one time we actually went to a real restaurant, he had to borrow a suit from his brother.”

  “Ellie, when do we here in Horizon ever do anything formal? What you’re wearing is fine. Including the apron.” He hopped off the stool. “Can you be there by six?”

  “Roger that.”

  He gave her a wave, then headed out into the night.

  Ellie leaned back against the counter and sighed. This was so not her idea of a relaxing evening. Certainly not relaxing if she had to keep her mouth shut when Link started spouting baloney, knowing what she now knew – and suspected – about the media darling.

  Still, she’d try to get through it for Josh – and for Patti and Earl.

  While Arabella hadn’t closed the dining room to outside traffic, there was only one other table occupied that night when Ellie and Charlie arrived. The Odious Margaret sat in the center of the room, a mere two tables away from the three tables that had been pushed together for Josh’s little dinner party. It was, Ellie thought, way too close.

  There was quite a crowd. Patti and Earl were standing at the end of the table, talking to Seth and Carrie Anne McLean, Patti and Earl’s oldest daughter.

  Josh was at the opposite end of the long table, chatting with Matt, who looked as though he wanted to crawl under the table. He kept putting a finger under the collar of his button down shirt, and though he wasn’t wearing a tie, he looked as though he might just as well have been, he was so uncomfortable. Sierra was sitting next to Matt, wearing a long, flowing skirt, a peasant shirt that reminded her of the kind of things her friend Harmony wore. Sierra’s long hair hung loose tonight, the waves from the braid making it look even more hippie-like. She looked relaxed, as she sat and sipped at a glass of wine, and she kept gazing up at Josh with what Ellie could only describe as a satisfied smile.

  Arabella’s granddaughter, Chloe, moved with a rapid, steady pace from one guest to another, pouring water without spilling a drop, and taking drink orders. She smiled broadly as Ellie and Charlie approached, guiding them to two spots at the table.

  “Ms. Gooden, Mr. McCallum. Good evening. What can I get you to drink? Something from the bar?”

  Ellie glanced at Charlie. “Can you drive my van?”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. Tag, you’re the designated driver.” She turned back to Chloe. “I’ll have a glass of white wine.”

  “We’ve got a terrific new Riesling in. I recommend it.”

  “That sounds delightful.”

  Chloe turned her doe eyes on Charlie, and while she didn’t actually sigh, the puppy love was more than apparent. “What can I get you, Mr. McCallum?”

  He grinned at her, which did nothing to quell the girl’s crush. “What have you got in the way of dark ale?”

  “Well, there’s always Guinness. But my Dad prefers Smithwicks. Or maybe a Boddingtons?”

  “Smithwicks. Just the ticket. Thanks.”

  Ellie shook her head as Chloe bounced away. “I thought I tagged you as the designated driver.”

  “One pint isn’t going to impair me.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him, but let it drop. “I didn’t know you liked ale.”

  Charlie took his jacket off and put it on the back of his chair. “Got a taste for it when I was in England.”

  Ah. She’d almost forgotten. Cambridge. She wondered if she’d ever get to the bottom of the endless puzzle that was her new bed mate.r />
  Josh bounded over and gave Ellie a big hug. “I’m so glad you guys could come.” He stuck out his hand to Charlie. “I’m so sorry about the other night. I don’t think we even got properly introduced. Although, frankly, I was so toasted, that I don’t remember much. I’m Josh Mough.”

  Charlie shook his hand. “You hardly need an introduction. You’re a famous man now, Josh. My hat goes off to you for the work you’re doing. I read the article in The New Environmentalist about your trip to Cameroon. That was heady stuff.”

  Josh grinned. “You read that? Wow. I didn’t know you were into botany. Not many people would have found that interesting.”

  “Charlie is a man of many interests.” Was that pride she felt, or annoyance. It seemed sometimes that Charlie seemed to know at least a little about everything.

  Charlie waved off the compliment. “It comes from too much late night internet surfing.”

  Patti Mough came up behind Charlie and patted his back. Patti was a striking woman. Though not tall, she carried herself with an air of confidence. Her hair, which by now had to be at least partially gray, was a lovely shade of auburn, and given her daughter’s coppery burnished hair, was probably close to her natural color. But the most striking thing about Patti was nothing you could see in her Irish complexion or her ample figure. It was the generosity of her heart, which showed clearly on her face. Everyone was Patti’s long lost child. She’d treated Ellie like a member of the family from their first meeting. If it hadn’t been for Patti and Earl, she’d never have survived her rocky start here the previous spring.

  Lately, given all the troubles at the dairy, whenever Ellie had seen Patti in town, there’d been a sadness behind her smile. Tonight, however, she was beaming. “Now, Charlie, don’t be modest. You’re a brilliant and talented fellow.” She reached over and gave Ellie’s arm a motherly squeeze. “And we’re mighty glad you and Ellie found each other.”

  Ellie felt the flush creep from her cheeks to the top of her head.

  Which made Patti laugh. “Oh, now I’ve gone and embarrassed you. Well, that’s what surrogate parents are for, I suppose. My only regret is that I don’t have any of your baby pictures to show Charlie.”

 

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