“I simply will not allow my business to be affected because of something an employee of mine is doing. Let me make myself very clear about this. If I ever catch you high or trying to sell to one of my customers, that’s it. There will be no second chances, and you will be fired immediately. I will also make sure no one else in the area gives you a job. Do you understand? I will not have that sort of thing associated with the Hillcrest Bed and Breakfast.”
Figures that wimpy sheriff was behind this. Probably couldn’t wait to run back to his big sister and tell her what he’d heard about me, Mike thought. The guy’s an even bigger gossip than those little old ladies who quilt together every Thursday over at the church.
He wasn’t surprised she’d called him in. Actually, he’d been waiting for Lucy to say something to him. Sheriff Jennings had stopped him on the road the previous evening and told him he’d paid a visit to his sister and made her aware Mike had been named by some snitch he’d sold some meth to. It was almost like he was proud he’d run off and tattled to Mike’s employer. If he wasn’t the sheriff, Mike would have punched his smug little face right then and there. Rich was very lucky he had that badge to protect himself.
“As long as you don’t bring those things onto my property, it’s none of my business what you do when you’re not here. All I ask is that you respect my business. I have nothing against you, Mike. I think you’re a hard worker and a real asset to the B & B. You help us get so much done, I’d hate to have to try to find someone to replace you, but I will if you force my hand.”
Mike was nodding, but he hadn’t really been listening. He was too focused on his hatred for the sheriff to hear what Lucy was saying. He was sure the sheriff was gunning for him, just looking for an excuse to put him in handcuffs. He’d probably made it his own personal mission to get Mike sent to prison.
Lucy paused for a moment to see if Mike would say anything in his defense, but when he remained silent she continued. “I think that’s about it. I just wanted to make you aware of what I expected. That’s all. You can go back to what you were doing.” She smiled as Mike stood up and left her office.
When he was outside, all he could think about was Sheriff Jennings. He picked up the rake and tried to go back to work, but his mind was too distracted.
I just want to teach that wimp a lesson, he thought. Maybe I’ll catch him out late some night and jump him. I could probably get a couple of my friends to help.
He decided it was time to smoke some more, so he propped the rake up against the fence and headed around back where the shed was located. Once he stepped behind the shed and into the shade it was giving off, he dipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving his pipe and lighter. He heated up the small rock in the bottom of his pipe and took a big pull. Holding the smoke in, he decided that asking any of his friends to help him with the sheriff was too risky. Meth heads were too unpredictable. He should know, since he was one.
Mike set the pipe down to allow it to cool before sticking it back in his pocket. Maybe if I just killed him it would be easier, he thought. He straightened some of the tools in the shed while he continued to come up with plans for the sheriff. Maybe I could cut his brakes? No, someone else could get hurt that way.
He hated the sheriff, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone else. He didn’t picture himself as that kind of man. While he was thinking about shooting Rich, he had another thought. I’d be stupid to do anything to the sheriff. I’ve watched enough cop shows to know I’d probably be one of the first suspects if anything happened to him now that there’s that whole meth manufacturing investigation going on. I’d probably end up in a green jumpsuit faster than I could say, “It wasn’t me.”
Mike put his pipe back in his pocket and returned to the front of the B & B to finish cleaning out the flower beds. He continued to think how he could pay back the sheriff.
There has to be some way I could make him suffer, he thought. He has to have some sort of weakness. He knew the sheriff wasn’t married and didn’t have any kids. About that time Lucy walked out the front door of the B & B and headed for her van which was parked in the driveway. Wait, maybe that’s the way to hit him where it hurts. Mike watched Lucy climb into her van and pull away as he came up with a plan to get back at the sheriff.
If I killed Sheriff Jennings, he’d be considered to have died a hero, Mike’s drug-addled mind thought. He wouldn’t suffer at all. But what if his most favorite person in all the world was murdered, right here in his jurisdiction, and under his nose? Bet it would drive him crazy. And it would serve her right for sticking her nose in someone else’s business, too.
The more he thought about the whole situation, the madder he got. Sure, he’d lose his job, but he didn’t need much money to get by. The only reason he worked was so he could afford to ski during the winter season. He didn’t care about much besides skiing and getting high. Everything else was just filler. He could just as easily work at one of the other B & B’s in the area to make money. Mike pulled his work gloves back on and started raking as a plan began to take shape.
CHAPTER 5
Brigid leaned back in her black leather office chair and gently stretched her arms above her head. She felt like she’d been hunched over her desk for hours, when in reality it was probably only forty-five minutes. As an editor, she often spent a great deal of time sitting at a computer screen attempting to help authors get their novels in the best shape possible.
The hours were long, but she really enjoyed being an editor. Where else could you get paid to read great stories and help make them even better. She picked up her cell phone and began to check her email. As she was deleting yet another junk email, a message popped up from one of her authors, Rachele Peters.
Hey, I’m experiencing writer’s block. Any tips? I just can’t seem to break past it this time.
Brigid smiled. She considered Rachele a friend as well as a client. Her books were doing fairly well, and Brigid knew she’d been seriously working on her latest. So far Brigid was pleased with what Rachele had sent her. Not only was Rachele talented, she was one of Brigid’s favorite authors to work with, because she was always willing to listen to Brigid’s comments and suggestions. She never got defensive or angry. She’d worked with enough writers to know some of them really resented it when she suggested they change something. Not Rachele, though.
Have you tried taking a break for a day or so and then coming back to it? Sometimes just clearing your head for a while does wonders, Brigid typed on her cell phone and then pressed send. She went back to scrolling through her email. When her cell phone buzzed she saw it was another email message from Rachele.
Yes. Are you busy? Can I just call you?
No sooner did Brigid reply with a “sure,” than her phone began to ring. She picked it up and heard Rachele let out a huge sigh.
“Oh, Brigid, thank goodness you weren’t busy. I’m telling you, I just don’t know what the deal is. I’ve never had this happen before.”
“It’s not uncommon,” Brigid said. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s like this. No matter what I do I just end up staring at a blank screen. I’ve tried walking my dog, watching a movie, going to the beach, but it doesn’t seem to matter. When I sit down in front of the computer, I can’t come up with anything. It’s driving me absolutely insane, and I feel like my deadline is hanging over me like a guillotine. It’s like I’ve turned into one great big ball of anxiety.”
Brigid understood what she was saying. This wasn’t the first time one of her authors had experienced it. Sometimes a story just gets bogged down. Normally, all an author needed was a change of pace, something to happen that would inspire them. Most of the time they needed to get out of their head for a little while. They needed to stop thinking about the story and let their mind relax.
However, telling a writer not to think about their story was like telling a chef not to think about food. It was almost impossible. Brigid had met with Rachele a couple of t
imes before she moved back to Cottonwood Springs. Rachele had always been friendly, and they had a good working relationship.
“Rachele, I have an idea. Maybe you just need a little vacation, say, a change of pace for a few days. Why don’t you come to Cottonwood Springs? There isn’t a lot to do here, but it’s not all rush, rush, rush like Los Angeles. You can go for walks on some of the hiking trails or take a drive in the mountains. A little change of scenery never hurt anybody, and it might start those creative juices flowing again.”
On the other end of the line, Rachele’s eyes went wide. She was very familiar with Cottonwood Springs. She’d grown up not far from there before she ended up in prison. Brigid didn’t know anything about that. Rachele had never shared that she’d been caught embezzling money at the Monarch Ski Resort when she worked there as a young woman. That was a part of her life she preferred no one knew about.
At the time she’d truly believed she wouldn’t get caught. Nobody paid any attention to the books at the ski resort, so it was fairly easy to skim a little here and there. No big deal. But all that changed when Lucy got involved. For some reason, she’d decided to be a little more thorough than the previous bookkeeper, and she began running the numbers. Once she saw the discrepancies, she’d told her brother and the resort. Shortly afterwards, Rachele had been arrested, was put on trial, and when she was found guilty, she’d been sent to prison.
“You know what? That sounds like an amazing idea. Are there lots of trails where I can take a walk?” Rachele decided it was best to act as though she’d never been to Cottonwood Springs. That way there wouldn’t be any questions.
“Sure, there are plenty of hiking trails and there are lots of great little shops and restaurants, as well. There’s a ski resort that still has the lifts running, so you can take them up and check out the views and the wildlife, if that’s your kind of thing. There’s plenty here to distract you and help get your mind off of your book for a little while,” Brigid said.
“Oh, Brigid, that sounds wonderful. I’m a little tight on money at the moment, though. Would you mind if I stayed with you? I can afford everything else, but paying for a room is way out of my budget,” Rachele asked innocently. It was true, but she also didn’t want to bring any attention to herself by staying at a B & B in town where someone might recognize her.
Rachele may have been from a couple of towns over and gone to a different school, but that didn’t mean much. When she’d been caught embezzling, her face had been all over the local news. She began to type furiously on her computer, looking up airline tickets and other expenses, like a rental car. She wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. No matter what it took, she was going to make this happen.
On the other end of the line, Brigid began to feel cornered. She really hadn’t planned on having Rachele stay with her, but she was the one who had invited Rachele to come to Cottonwood Springs. How could she turn her down, when she was the one who’d brought it up? Brigid couldn’t really blame her for wanting to skip the expense of a room. They weren’t exactly cheap in resort areas like Cottonwood Springs, and it wasn’t like she and Rachele hadn’t gotten along. Every conversation they’d ever had was pleasant and friendly. After a short deliberation, Brigid decided having a guest for a couple of days wouldn’t be all that bad. Anyway, wasn’t that what guest rooms were for?
“Sure, I don’t mind. You can stay with me. Maybe I can show you a few sights while you’re here,” Brigid said.
“Thank you so much. It just sounds wonderful. I’ll book my plane ticket for two days from now. Send me your address when you get a chance. I’ll be flying into Denver, so I’ll just rent a car and drive over to Cottonwood Springs. I’m really looking forward to this!”
“Me, too,” Brigid said, a little less enthusiastically. She felt bad, but she was already dreading Rachele’s visit. For some reason, she felt like she might come to regret ever suggesting it. They both said their goodbyes and ended the call.
*****
This is going to be interesting, Rachele thought to herself. She was sitting in her office, staring at the pale blue walls. She leaned back in her chair, put her feet up on her desk, and looked around the office. Could this be a sign? Could I really be given an opportunity to get back at Lucy after all these years? Pay her back for ruining my life? She was responsible for all those years stolen away from me, and for what? That money wasn’t hers. It wasn’t even her problem. If she’d just kept her nose out of my business, I wouldn’t have ever been caught. She sighed and stood up. As she paced back and forth in her small office, the thoughts whirling around in her mind began to come together.
Yes, I know it’s a sign. It’s a gift, although some people probably wouldn’t see it that way. She chewed the corner of her thumb. Now all I need to do is decide how I want Lucy to pay for what she did to me.
Rachele knew her thinking probably wasn’t completely rational, but how could it be? Finally, she’d have the chance to pay Lucy back for the years of her life that Rachele had lost in prison.
CHAPTER 6
The next evening, Brigid found herself anxiously waiting for Linc to show up for dinner. When she’d invited him to dinner, she’d thought she’d feel more comfortable having dinner with him in her home rather than at a restaurant, but now she was starting to have second thoughts. Maybe Fiona had been right. Maybe she was stuck in the Victorian Era.
“What if I’m reading too much into it, Jett?” she asked as the big dog stood beside her hoping she might drop a tidbit so he could clean it up. He lifted his head as though he understood exactly what she was saying. “What if he was simply being a friendly neighbor, and I’m trying to make it into something more than it is?”
It had taken a lot of deliberation before she’d decided to make gougères as an appetizer, a forty-clove garlic chicken, a tomato tart, a garbanzo bean salad, a baguette, and for dessert, chocolate mousse. Everything had been made ahead that could be, and the house was filled with the smell of garlicky chicken. The gougères had been in the oven for fifteen minutes, so she had to find something else to fuss over. She’d already checked her hair four times in the mirror and changed her outfit twice.
Brigid wanted to look nice, but she didn’t want to be too formal, either. What if he showed up in jeans, and she was wearing something dressier? She’d finally opted for a pair of black jeans and her favorite oversized pale grey sweater. It wasn’t too fancy, but it was better than wearing her normal outfit of a tee shirt and jeans. She’d even debated about whether she should wear her diamond stud earrings or her hoops. She finally decided she was being ridiculous and settled on the studs.
Once she’d finished agonizing over her appearance, the house received the brunt of her nervousness. Every time she walked by the great room where she’d set the table, she’d adjust the flowers on the table or fiddle with the silverware or glasses. Something always seemed to be out of place when she looked at it.
Jett followed her into the great room and laid down on his loveseat. “What about the lighting, Jett? Do you think it’s too dim? I’d like to set a nice mood, but I don’t want to come off too strong. I am definitely not ready for things to go any farther than dinner.”
“Woof,” Jett agreed from the loveseat. Brigid stopped and looked at her new best friend. He seemed as though he was looking right at her, telling her she needed to cool it.
“You’re absolute right, Jett. I’m nervous. Maybe, just maybe, I actually like this guy,” she said to him. “Maybe I’d like to make a good impression on him.” Jett continued to stare at her. “Okay, okay. I do like him, and I want him to like me. Is that so bad? It’s just… I’d really sworn off men and dating after my divorce. It was so hard and painful. I never want to ever go through something like that again.”
“Woof, woof,” Jett barked, answering her.
“You are so right, Jett. It’s only dinner. It’s not a commitment. I need to take a deep breath and see how things go. I’m getting way too far ahead of myself
here.”
The doorbell rang, and Jett hopped up to go greet whoever was at the door. His tail was wagging excitedly, as if he knew Linc was on the other side. Brigid opened the door to see Linc standing there, holding a bottle of wine.
“I thought I’d bring the wine,” he said, smiling his slightly lopsided grin. Looking at him, standing there in his black shirt with a dark blue tee underneath and jeans, she was struck with just how good looking he was. She’d certainly noticed it before, but this time it almost took her breath away, which made her even more nervous.
“Come in, come in,” she said, holding the door open. He stepped inside, and Jett began to excitedly dance around until Linc acknowledged him.
“Hey, buddy, I’m glad to see you, too,” he said. scratching behind the big dog’s ears and talking gibberish to him.
Brigid laughed as she got the wine glasses out of the china cabinet and handed them to him. “If you’ll pour the wine, I’ll get the gougères for us.”
She went into the kitchen and took the gougères out of the oven as she watched Linc and Jett interact. It was fun watching Jett be so excited to see Linc. She was learning that Jett was very discerning about the people he liked and didn’t like. It was obvious Linc had made it on his friends list.
She walked back in the great room with the gougères and sat down. Linc joined her and Jett made himself comfortable next to Linc on the floor.
“What do we have here?” he asked as he picked up one of them.
“They’re called gougères and served in France when people go to someone’s home. Usually they’re served along with champagne or kir. I’ve had them a couple of times, but I’ve never made them until tonight. I’ll be curious what you think.”
Murder in Cottonwood Springs: A Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery (Cottonwood Springs Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) Page 4
