by Sandi Scott
Ashley put her hand over her heart. “I would owe you forever.”
“First you have to taste this croquette.” Patty picked up one of the potato balls off her rack and shoved it in Ashley’s face. “What do you think?”
“For you, Patty, anything. Even potatoes.”
Honestly, though, the croquette was pretty good. Maybe good enough to beat out Smoke Daddy Lee’s fries in a contest. But then again, maybe not.
As she ate the croquette, nodding at Patty and making contented noises, something hit her: both Moonbeam and now Betty had mentioned that Sparrow was cheating on Moonbeam with someone.
Patty and Smoke Daddy were already deep into a discussion of fried ice cream when Ashley finished the croquette, so she just waved goodbye to them and headed out the door, mulling over who the somebody was that Sparrow had been involved with. And what if that someone was tied up in all of this, too?
Ashley was determined to find out.
16
“And then,” Ashley said, “you will never believe what happened.”
“What’s that?” Ryan asked, swallowing his mouthful of cookie.
“When we finally finished up and I had a chance to ask her about her comment about local people, she told me that she didn’t have the money to pay me for the catering job.”
Ryan’s little cottage had never seemed so welcoming. The drive over to his cottage had just made her angry again. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever having been so angry in her life.
Ryan had already put his arm around her as they sat down on his couch, all the while using his other arm to eat the warm cookie. Now he tightened it until she was pressed up against his chest.
Her hands were balled up in fists. She was struggling not to cry. “And then when she handed her assistant a check, I almost asked her if it was going to bounce.”
“She didn’t,” he groaned.
“She did.”
She leaned her head into his shirt. Being so angry in front of Ryan was embarrassing, but she couldn’t imagine getting through the day without him, either.
“I agree with your theory that she did it because you nosed into her business,” Ryan said.
“Do you think I shouldn’t have?”
“Her business was right there, Ash. It wasn’t like you had to dig very deep.”
“I’m not naïve to people smoking, especially in the food business. But a little discretion goes a long way when working together, you know?”
Ryan squeezed her shoulder again.
Slowly, she calmed herself and sat up. Ryan leaned forward and handed her a glass of wine. She gulped some down and straightened up. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”
“No worries,” he said. “I’m just glad I’m here to listen.” He paused. “Are you going to be okay? Financially?”
“I think so,” Ashley said. “I really, really could have used the extra money to put in the ‘someday we’ll have a food truck’ fund. But we had such a good weekend at the festival that I’m not completely broke or anything. And I have some savings… I’ll be fine, as long as nothing else goes wrong.”
She stared at her feet, which she had half tucked underneath her and which rested at the end of the couch as she leaned against Ryan. She felt like she had just jinxed herself. Something would go wrong.
“Do you know what you want to do about Betty?” Ryan asked.
Ashley took a deep breath and fanned her face with one hand, then took another sip of wine. “Obviously the first thing is to calm down.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you’re right in what you told her, that you would send her an invoice with a late fee on it. If she doesn’t cough up the money… then you can take her to small claims court.”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“And it probably won’t be the last time you have to do it. Treat it like anything else you do. Research it, find out who’s done it before, get some advice, dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s.”
She shook her head.
Ryan said, “I have had to take someone to small claims court. You remember the client who wanted to set up a virtual server for his fishing app?”
“Yes…?”
“I had to take him to court for over a thousand dollars’ worth of work. It wasn’t that hard. Just a lot of paperwork to fill out. You can do this.”
“I don’t want to, though.” Ashley felt like she had caused enough trouble for one week.
“Think of it as something you’re doing for Patty,” Ryan said. “You’re protecting the restaurant that you’re going to set up together.”
“Or food truck.”
Ryan nodded seriously. “Or food truck.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. This isn’t just my money. It’s our opportunities. I can’t let people like Betty and Sparrow slow us down.”
“That’s right.”
She took another deep breath, put the wine down, and wrapped both arms around his torso. “I’m so glad I can vent to you about this.”
“You’ll get through this,” he said, blushing a little.
She smiled at him.
It was becoming rapidly clear to her that in the mystery of “why hadn’t Ryan kissed me yet,” there were certain undeniable clues. Ryan was always there for her. He had made his home and his business dog-friendly so that she could bring Dizzy with her when she saw him, and yet he never asked her for anything other than friendship and baked goods. He cooked for her even as he wondered if it was good enough.
The mystery was clear to her now: Ryan was a nice guy who didn’t want to push her.
It was just going to be up to her to make the first move.
“Ryan,” she said. “I have one other problem.”
He looked puzzled. “What’s that?”
“You still haven’t kissed me.”
From her position, she could only see the side of his face. He blinked.
She pulled his head down toward her and planted a kiss on his lips.
It felt like an electric shock, an actual snap in the air between them.
Kiss me back, please kiss me back, Ashley thought at him as hard as she could.
She felt a light touch on her back—Ryan’s hand. Then his lips moved against hers.
Her eyes closed. Her heart had been going crazy in her chest, but she only just noticed it. Her toes felt like they were curling.
Finally she had to breathe, and she pulled back, gasping for air.
He pulled her back into another kiss. This time she watched his eyes close. Even while he was kissing her, his lips were pulled back into a smile.
“Ashley,” he said.
She admitted something she’d known for a long time: “I should never have dated Serge, Ryan. If I’d been smarter, I would have dated you.”
He blinked. “I… uh…”
She was blushing furiously. She couldn’t help it. “Um… I think I need to cool off a little. Would you… would you go for a walk with me? I need to take Dizzy…”
“That sounds like a great idea,” he said. “I’ll follow you over to your house. I’ll be right behind you.”
She kissed him once more on the cheek and walked out to her red Beetle with shaking legs.
Please let this work. Please.
* * *
She put her keys on the counter, took off her shoes (she still had on some sturdy, comfortable, semi-dressy flats on from working at the anniversary), and decided that no, she wouldn’t have time for a quick shower. She changed clothes anyway, putting on sweats and a T-shirt, and scrubbed her face clean of makeup. Dizzy leaned against her legs as Ashley explained that this was a very important non-date and that Dizzy had to be a good girl. No chasing squirrels, and no sniffing at trees.
Then came a knock at the door.
“It’s open, Ryan.”
She came out, still twisting her hair up into a ponytail, as he opened the door an
d came in. Dizzy barked happily, then trotted over to her leash and began wagging her tail vigorously.
The two of them looked at each other.
“No matter what else happens,” Ryan said, “Dizzy is going to get her walk. Or there will be trouble.”
She laughed and clipped on the leash. They both picked up a pair of small flashlights by the door. It was sunset, but Dizzy had a tendency, when the two of them were on walks together, to try to lead them to the most distant walking paths she could. She knew that she could get away with more when Ashley and Ryan were together. They all knew they weren’t going to make it back to Ashley’s house anytime soon.
Ashley frowned back at the fridge. She hadn’t eaten anything but cookies and croquettes since lunch at the anniversary party, and that was hours ago. She tried to tell herself it would be fine—but Ryan had already caught her looking at the fridge.
“Hungry?”
“Yes, but I don’t dare slow Dizzy down to eat!”
He laughed and popped open the door, then raided the box of leftover pizza from the other night with Patty. “I’m hungry, too. Let’s throw together a quick picnic dinner and eat at one of the parks.”
A short time later, they had an insulated picnic tote full of random odds and ends from the fridge and freezer—pizza, small containers of ice cream, wine, chocolate, crackers, cream cheese spread, ham-and-pickle rollups, roasted chickpeas, a box of cherry tomatoes, a wedge of blue cheese, and an apple.
Ashley kept stealing kisses until Dizzy barked loudly and scratched at the door. It was time to go. They headed out the door, both laughing, and let Dizzy pull them down the street. Ashley barely knew which way they were going.
The house with the chicken curtains had changed since the last time she’d seen it. Now the realtor’s sign was gone, and the mailbox had been replaced. Ashley pointed out to Ryan the tin sign attached to it, a coyote howling at the moon.
“Hurray!” Ashley said. “It looks like things went through for Coyote after all.”
“Yeah, I remember trying to get started out when I was his age. Nothing was easy. And he’s had it worse than a lot of people.
The breeze gusted and something in the shadow of Coyote’s porch caught Ashley’s eye. Someone was sitting in the shadows—a woman. It was Sheila, Coyote’s mom.
Ashley waved and started walking toward the house, but Sheila stood up, picked up an ashtray and a coffee cup, and went back inside. Her facial expression was hard to see, but Ashley would have sworn that she looked upset. She clearly didn’t want company.
“Who was that?” Ryan asked.
“Coyote’s mom, Sheila Johnson,” Ashley said. She explained about meeting Sheila on Coyote’s porch earlier, and having coffee and a couple of the less-than-perfect anniversary cookies with her. “You’ll probably meet her sooner or later.”
Ryan frowned at her again. “I’ve seen her before, but…”
“Maybe Coyote introduced her to you?”
“No, it was somewhere else.”
Dizzy didn’t care about the question of where Ryan might have seen Sheila before; she tugged at her leash, leading the two of them past Coyote’s new house.
“Is he excited to be a new homeowner?”
“Excited and overwhelmed,” Ryan said. “The seal on the tub drain already broke and left him in a panic. I had to go over there and help him replace it.”
“It’s really kind of you to step in as a kind of big brother.”
“I have a feeling that he was missing some guidance in his life sometimes.”
The two of them kept walking, ending up in a small park next to the road. By then the sun had set. They claimed the one picnic table, which was next to the swings, and pulled out their picnic lunch to eat while Dizzy rolled in the grass. Several of the dogs nearby barked at her, and she cheerfully barked back, passing on whatever canine gossip was current.
As they ate from their pile of odds and ends, Ryan said, “I’ve been thinking about what happened to your savings.”
“Whatarja…” She swallowed. “What are you thinking about that?”
“I’m wondering what made Sparrow break his pattern. He sold all the stolen credit card numbers to one company in China that charged a large amount to those accounts. Your money went to a different account, one in this country. At least, that’s how it seems.”
Ashley winced. If he knew that, then he had been doing a lot of hacking that she didn’t even want to know about. “Maybe I was the last person to get ripped off before he was, um, murdered?”
“It seems that way. Uh… I have an awkward question for you.”
“I have an awkward answer.”
“Do you need money?”
“I’m fine for now. Really. Everybody needs to stop panicking.”
“If you ever need anything…”
She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Yes, she could definitely get used to this. “I will ask you first, Ryan Brady. I promise.”
He relaxed. “That’s a relief.”
She laughed. The two of them packed up their strange picnic dinner and set off after Dizzy. She was more than ready to move on.
Soon they were on the winding trails through the open space, walking up and down the slight hills beside a small, dried-up creek. Trees still surrounded the creek bed, their leaves rustling in the evening. Their flashlights picked out movement in the shadows. Bullfrogs sang near the deeper ponds.
Dizzy reached the end of their usual trail and hesitated. Normally, she and Ashley would have turned around here and walked home, but Dizzy sensed that she would be able to press her advantage tonight. Her nose swung to the left, then to the right, then back again.
Finally, the nose decided to take them to the left, along a sidewalk that ran beside the open space, then curved around a cul-de-sac. They followed the sidewalk up a hill, then over it.
At the bottom of the hill in front of them was the police station. Ashley shook her head. She knew how to drive there, but she’d never walked there before. Apparently, the open space was a shortcut.
At least she knew where they were now. They walked down the other side of the hill. The night really was too inviting to turn around just yet…
The police station, which was made of stucco with short palm trees around the perimeter, reminded her of something from the murder case. “I meant to ask you something,” she interjected into their ongoing conversation. “Did anything come of that fight that you and Coyote broke up that first night of the festival? Moonbeam mentioned something…”
“The fight!” Ryan exclaimed.
“What about it?”
“That’s where I saw Sheila Johnson before. She was one of the combatants.”
17
Ashley’s eyebrows raised and she made a clucking sound in her mouth. “So that’s why she went into the house. She recognized you and was embarrassed.”
The two of them kept walking. Finally, Ryan said, “If that’s Coyote’s mom…”
“…then why was she fighting with Moonbeam at the bonfire and saying that she had stolen her man…” Ashley continued.
“…and how come Coyote didn’t say anything about them knowing each other?” Ryan finished up.
“Maybe he didn’t know?” Ashley asked. “But he and his mom seemed pretty close, at least the way that Sheila told it.”
Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know. But since we’re here already, let’s go in and see if Detective Luna or Sheriff Mueller are here. This might be important to the case.”
Ashley sighed. She’d been hoping to have more time to mull over what she wanted to do about Betty and her “family business.” But really, she didn’t have a choice; she needed to report the woman, and start getting her ducks in a row to get her money back.
Ashley steeled herself as they walked in the front door and into the sheriff’s office. She didn’t want to talk to Detective Luna, if possible—she would much rather deal with Sheriff Mueller.
Since it was e
vening, most of the lights had been turned off or dimmed. They reached the front desk, where an officer leaned casually back in his seat, flipping through a folder of paperwork.
“Sorry, ma’am, sir, we’re closed for the evening. Do you have an emergency?”
“We may have information on the murder case from the festival last weekend,” Ryan said.
“Oh?”
Ashley said, “We’d like to talk to Sheriff Mueller, if he’s available.”
The officer said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, he’s not here right now, but I believe Detective Luna is working on that case, and he was still in his office last time I checked. I’ll see if he’s available.” He leaned forward and picked up a telephone. “Detective Luna? There’s a couple out front here to see you about the murder at the festival last weekend. Nope, I sure didn’t. Well, I figured you’d want to see them no matter what they said their names were. Uh-huh. Probably. No, the lady looks familiar. She’s got a mutt with her. Uh-huh.” He hung up.
Ashley bit her lip and waited, shifting from foot to foot. Dizzy sniffed around the lobby, pulling her along the perimeter of the room. She called Patty, telling her what had happened.
“Do you want me to come to get you?” Patty asked.
Ashley looked at Ryan and repeated the question to him. He spread his hands out. Who knows? As much as she wanted to spend more time alone with him now, it might be a better idea to have backup if something happened.
“Honestly? Yes,” Ashley said. “Just in case.”
“If nothing else, I can pick up Dizzy if Detective Luna needs to ask you a lot of questions.”
Ashley sighed. There was always that possibility, too.
Finally, Detective Luna appeared, looking tired and cranky.
Great was Ashley’s first thought. We should have waited until tomorrow.
She plastered a smile on her face. “Hello, Detective Luna.”
“Hello, Ms. Adams,” he said, sounding defeated and exhausted. “What did you just happen to figure out or overhear this time?”