“We could kill him, but it’s damn hard to get away with anything like that these days, plus he’s just sort of stumbled into a situation, he’s not here with malice.” Bull was dead serious, which was just one of the things she loved about him. He weighed every course of action, even the outrageous ones. “And that leaves us with the third option, which isn’t good, but about the only thing she can do is ask him not to mention her or her restaurant in his posts.”
She rubbed at the throbbing in her right temple. “He’s a journalist. That’s just going to make him want to dig deeper. How much can he find out, do you think?”
Bull cocked his head to one side, considering, stroking his beard. “He’ll probably figure out pretty quickly that’s not her real name. It won’t take much digging to find out I own the restaurant and bar, not her—that’s a matter of public record, even though we’ve kept it quiet. Outside of that, I don’t think there’s much he can find.”
“Why’d he have to turn up?” She was so frustrated with the situation she could scream. “Things were going so well for her.”
Bull shook his head. “Come on, Merrilee. It was just a matter of time. Sooner or later everything comes to a reckoning.” She knew he was referencing the recent showdown with her husband…well, now ex-husband. “Have you talked to her?”
“No. I came over here as soon as I got him out the door. I thought we should strategize first and then talk to Gus together. Although I’m sure she already knows because Teddy was gushing like a geyser.” Teddy was something of a dreamer but Merrilee had never seen her gaga like that.
Bull pushed to his feet. “I’ll put a sign on the door and we’ll head over to Gus’s so we’re all on the same page.”
“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY, honey?” Merrilee said as Gus ushered Merrilee and Bull to her apartment door.
She was as okay as she’d been in the last four years. “I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks for coming over. You two have been lifesavers. Good Riddance has been a lifesaver. I hope you know how much you mean to me.” Her look encompassed both of them.
“We do and you know how important you are to us.”
Gus nodded, her throat suddenly clogged with tears. They were as close to family as she had, with her mother dead and her father having checked out of her life when she was a kid. They’d become surrogate parents.
Merrilee caught Gus up in a quick hug. “It’s going to be okay.” She released her and patted her on the shoulder. “Just throw yourself into your work, honey.”
“Shout if you need us,” Bull said, his manner gruff as usual, but the caring in his eyes evident.
“I will.”
They ducked out the side door of her apartment that lead to the outside rather than the stairs from the restaurant. She leaned her head against the door and the old feeling of being Troy’s prey again threatened to swamp her. The truth of the matter was it was never gone, she just managed to hold it at bay most of the time. Regardless of how far she’d run, his shadow was always on her doorstep. The worst was when she went to bed at night, when her mind was no longer busy, when the nightmares could come to her in her sleep. Without a doubt she was stronger for the experience. But he’d scarred her, permanently marked her somewhere deep inside.
She’d never told Merrilee and Bull all of it. She’d never been able to bring herself to talk about coming home and finding her sheets slashed and covered in red paint that looked like blood. And still the police would do nothing. The Wenhams were to New York what the Kennedys were to Massachusetts.
Gus breathed in through her nose, employing the technique she’d learned in yoga years ago and which she now taught on Sunday afternoons for a small group here in Good Riddance. She focused on her inhalation and exhalation, finally managing to center herself.
Feeling calmer, in control, her thoughts turned to Nick Hudson. Her heart had dropped into her stomach when Teddy had come back over to the restaurant, truffle box in hand, dropping the bomb that a reporter from New York was next door. Gus even knew who he was—both she and Troy had loved Nick’s travel pieces. They’d even tentatively tossed around a couple of different places Nick had written about as potential honeymoon destinations.
Nick’s writing had been witty and insightful. Once upon a time, in her previous life in New York, she’d even fancied herself just a little bit in love with him, based on his writing. She’d had the somewhat whimsical notion a person’s writing offered a glimpse into their soul and she’d liked what she’d seen of his. It hadn’t hurt that he was gorgeous to boot, according to pictures of him online and in the paper.
She hadn’t read one of his columns since she’d moved here. What was the point? That life was dead to her. Her passport, her driver’s license were both useless, since they were in her real name. It had been too painful to read his columns or anything related to New York. Instead she’d immersed herself in her new world, thankful she’d found a haven and an opportunity to practice her craft.
Oh, yes, she’d known exactly who he was when Teddy imparted the news. And like an idiot, rather than her instincts of how much danger he posed kicking in, her initial gut reaction had been a frisson of excitement. Anticipation had trailed through her, reminding her she was a woman who’d been more than four years without a man. She’d had date offers since she’d been here but she simply hadn’t been interested. However, one mention of Nick and that silly little crush she’d had years ago had reared its annoying head.
She shook her head. Her best course of action was to fly as far below his radar as possible. And with the influx of people here for the Chrismoose festival, she was going to be so darn busy that should be easy to do.
Squaring her shoulders and pushing away from the door, she headed downstairs. She had a restaurant to run.
2
NICK LAUGHED AS HE DODGED two kids playing a game of ice hockey using broomsticks and a chunk of ice for a puck. Beside him, Dalton Saunders grinned. “Everyone’s pretty jazzed up for the festival. I’m sure it’s nothing compared to New York but this is busy for Good Riddance.”
“I like it. There’s a good energy going on here. I’ve been some places where the people aren’t as friendly and you just don’t feel it.”
“So what do you do when you turn up somewhere and it’s a wash?”
“You think, oh, hell, I should’ve done better homework if I want to keep my job.” Dalton chuckled. “No, seriously, I write it like I find it. I try to find at least one interesting angle to push. But readers want the skinny. Especially since I cover places off the beaten path, the traveler is usually forking over a little extra cash to get there. They want to know what to expect. If I’ve sugar-coated it and it’s a wash when they get there, complaints are going to come in.”
“I hear ya,” Dalton said. “That’s why we printed a schedule. It keeps getting bigger every year so we figured it was easier this way.”
There were a whole lot of things going on over the next six days. Fireworks, ice fishing derby, dogsled races, cross-country skiing race, snowmobile races, a moose burger cook-off, arts and crafts show, Mr. Wilderness contest, and a Ms. Chrismoose pageant. Everything wrapped up with the Chrismoose parade and the dispensing of toys followed by a potluck dinner.
“At this point, our biggest problem is running out of places for people to stay. The B and B is full. I’m renting out the cabin next to mine to a couple from Anchorage. I know lots of people are staying with friends and family. When we get down to the other end of town, you’ll see all the motor homes and trailers. It’s hell on them getting here because those roads are rough.”
Nick made a mental note. This was the kind of information he needed in order to write a thorough piece. He’d booked his room at the B and B months ago. He guessed it was a good thing he had. The place only accommodated three guest rooms and then there was Merrilee’s private quarters. “Any plans to expand the B and B or build any rental cabins?”
“Merrilee or Bull would know more about that than I
do. I do know a group from a big resort corporation came out last year. I flew them in from Anchorage.” Dalton shook his head. “They were a bunch of suits. They looked around and met with the town council on building a spa resort here. The council turned them down. We’re just not that kind of community.”
Dalton pointed across the street. “Curl’s place always raises a few eyebrows with the tourists.”
Nick read the sign across the front window and chuckled. Curl’s Taxidermy & Barber Shop & Beauty Salon & Mortuary. “That’s definitely different.”
“Yeah. He said he listed taxidermy first because that was his biggest draw.”
Snapping a photo, Nick grinned. “My readers will love this.”
“The rest is what you’d pretty much expect to find in any small town—Laundromat, dry goods store, hardware store, bank, engine repair shop, doctor’s office.” He canted his head to the left. “My fiancée, Skye, is the doc and I’d drop by and introduce you but I’ll do you the favor of not taking you in there. There’s a flu outbreak. Talk about some bad timing.”
“That’s what Merrilee said earlier.” Nick could see the packed waiting room through the big glass window. “Yeah, I’ll pass on going in there. I’ll meet Skye some other time before I leave. Are you originally from Alaska?”
Dalton shook his head. “No. Michigan. I quit the corporate gig, got my pilot’s license and moved here eight years ago.”
“You obviously like it here.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, especially now that I found Skye. There’s nothing quite like having the right woman in your life. I don’t know how to describe it except life’s just better. It’s like switching from a regular screen to high-definition television—everything’s just a little brighter, clearer.”
“That’s cool. Congratulations.” And he did think it was cool. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to settle down with someone, he’d just never met that someone. In his family everyone, his parents, his brother and both his sisters, swore they’d known within days they’d met the right one. He’d just never had that click. Hell, he hadn’t had a date in months. He was tired of the whole dating game. The image of the woman he’d caught a glimpse of earlier, Gus, came to mind.
“Thanks,” Dalton said. They continued walking until they reached a large wooden building across the street. “That’s our new community center.” To their left was an assortment of RV’s and travel trailers. A number of dogs were outside several of the vehicles, obviously there for the dogsled race. “That’s our softball field in the summer and our Chrismoose Festival parking lot in the winter.” He grinned. “And thus concludes your tour of Good Riddance, Alaska.”
“I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Hey, unless you just like to eat alone or you’ve made alternate plans, why don’t you meet us for dinner at Gus’s tonight? It’ll have to be a little later than usual because Skye’s so swamped at work—probably around seven.”
“HE SHOULD BE HERE AT any time now,” Teddy said, watching the door, fretting.
Gus considered it an exercise in supreme self-control that she refrained from strangling Teddy on the spot, although that would be inconvenient since they were serving dinner and Gus needed Teddy’s help. They were slammed with the extra Chrismoose visitors in town. Gus couldn’t run the kitchen, the bar, and the dining room alone. Otherwise…. Teddy’s ongoing chatter about Nick Hudson was dancing on Gus’s last nerve. The man could unwittingly pinpoint her for Troy. And maybe Teddy’s starry-eyed enthusiasm reminded her too closely of herself years ago.
“Just relax, Teddy, and listen for the trumpets to sound, heralding his arrival,” Gus said.
Teddy cut her eyes and looked sheepish. “Okay, I guess I have been going on about him, but we just don’t get celebrities here in podunk Good Riddance.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out writing for a newspaper did not make the man a celebrity, but then she dialed herself back. Teddy had no clue what Nick’s arrival meant to Gus and under different circumstances, Gus would’ve been excited about meeting him, too. But there was a whole lot of water under that particular bridge. Gus garnished the two plates and handed them off to Teddy with a forced smile. “No, we don’t get many celebrities here in Good Riddance.”
She wiped her hands on her apron and turned back to the stove. The soothing smells and sounds of the restaurant washed over her. Regardless of how harried she was, there was a comforting familiarity to the clink of silverware against dishes and the sound of conversation and laughter at the different tables all set to a backdrop of music.
Gus was stirring the sauce burbling on the back burner, when someone other than Teddy heralded her from the service counter. “Hey, Gus.”
Startled, Gus dropped her spoon, sending it clattering to the stove.
“Oops, sorry about that. I didn’t think I’d scare you,” Jenna, one of Good Riddance’s newest citizens, said.
“No worries. I was just zoned out.” Normally, it wouldn’t have startled Gus. Her kitchen was an open-to-the-dining-room design and she loved it that way but she was definitely on edge tonight. “How’s it going, Jenna?”
“Um, pretty good,” Jenna said, glancing over her shoulder toward the front door, obviously looking for someone.
“Are you meeting someone?” Gus asked.
“No. I’m not waiting on anyone in particular.”
Jenna had shown up with Merrilee’s husband, now ex-husband, Tad as his fiancée. Jenna had, despite her airheadedness seen Tad for the creep he was, not to mention the cradle robber had been twice her age. She’d elected to stay in Good Riddance rather than go back to Atlanta and had started herself quite the thriving nail business over at Curl’s.
“Could I help you with something, Jenna?” She liked Jenna but she was too busy tonight to stand at the counter chatting.
“Um.” Jenna angled herself so she could talk to Gus and watch the doorway. “I just thought I’d tell you since the Ms. Chrismoose Pageant is coming up, I’ll give you a mani/pedi for half price. Seeing as how you’re the reigning Ms. Chrismoose, you want those nails looking nice when you hand off your crown…well, antlers or whatever they are.”
“That’s sweet of you to offer, Jenna—” the woman truly had a big heart “—but I don’t think I’m going to have time and the kitchen’s pretty rough on my nails. Manicures are usually a waste of time for me.”
Jenna looked horrified. “But you can’t hand off your crown with your nails looking like that. Sorry, but your cuticles are a hot mess.” Gus glanced down at her hands. They weren’t bad. Short but clean. Jenna leaned over the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room, and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I want to keep it quiet because I don’t want the other ladies to think that I have a big advantage over them in the pageant, but I have had some previous pageant experience.”
Gus nodded solemnly. That was no shocker. The perfect makeup and shoulder-length blond hair bespoke a pageant history. “Okay. I’ll keep it quiet.”
“Thanks. So, you just can’t go up there with those nails. And you’ll want to rub a little Vaseline on your teeth beforehand to make ’em shine when you smile.”
When hell froze over. The very thought almost gagged her.
“Thanks for the tip.” It was impossible not to like Jenna—beneath those silicone breasts beat a heart of gold, just like now when she was all wigged out over Gus’s plain nails—but sometimes it was hard not to gape in amazement at some of things that came out of her mouth. Since Jenna seemed in no hurry, Gus started inching her way back to the stove.
The front door opened and Nelson Sisnuket walked in. Nelson qualified as one of Gus’s favorite people in Good Riddance. A native who wore his long, straight hair pulled back in a ponytail, he assisted Dr. Skye Shanahan. On Thursday night’s he emceed karaoke at Gus’s place. Nelson was good people. A shaman-in-training in his clan, there was always a good vibe rolling off of Nelson with his calm demeanor and wr
y humor.
He looked tired tonight but she knew he and Skye had been swamped with flu patients.
“Okay. Nice chatting with you. See ya, Gus.” Jenna pushed away from the counter and timed it so that she nearly bumped into Nelson. “Oh…hey, Nelson. How’s it going?” The blonde fell into step beside him.
Nelson sent a wave Gus’s way. “It’s going fine. How are you, Jenna?”
Gus double-checked to make sure her mouth wasn’t hanging open. Jenna had been waiting on Nelson? Apparently so. Not that Nelson wasn’t an attractive man—in fact, he was downright handsome—but Gus would’ve never pegged him as Jenna’s type. And poor Jenna, if she was crushing on Nelson, and it looked as if she was, that dead-end street could only lead to heartbreak for her.
Interracial marriage wasn’t widely accepted in Nelson’s clan. His cousin Clint, a guide, had fallen in love with and was engaged to Tessa Bellingham, a white woman, but it had caused quite a stir with his family. Both Clint and Tessa had had to fight for Clint’s grandmother to accept their relationship. That had been one thing, especially since Clint, even though he looked full native, was the product of an interracial marriage and subsequent divorce. But it wasn’t a remote option for Nelson. As a shaman-in-training, it was out of the question for him to date outside his race and Nelson took his tribal responsibilities as sacred duty.
Gus didn’t want to burst Jenna’s bubble, but she’d talk to Jenna in the next day or so and just drop the information out there. Gus was nothing if not practical and in Jenna’s shoes…well, Gus would want to know if she didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell with a particular man.
She understood Jenna’s dilemma, though. Lately, Gus had become very much aware she’d been in a four-year sexual drought. The problem was none of the men in Good Riddance did a thing for her. As much as she liked Good Riddance, and she did, four years later and she still felt something like a fish out of water. And really that was just as well because if you started dating, or to be blunt, sleeping with someone in Good Riddance and things didn’t work out, well it was going to be awkward bumping into one another afterward. And in a town this size, avoiding someone was nearly impossible. Not to mention keeping an affair quiet. Everyone in town would probably know before the act itself was even consummated.
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