“You’re mean.”
“Thank you. I try, ya know. Anyway, I’m your familiar. If you don’t know what that is because you grew up under a rock, I suggest you look it up on the internet.” She said and head-butted the wall again.
Another faint clicking.
“Wait, this is our room,” I said as I passed through the opening and shut the panel behind us.
“Very observant. I find it ironic that I’m a cat that knows about the internet and you’re a witch that didn’t know about your familiar.” Jezebel said and hopped up on the bed. “While you’re looking up familiars, why don’t you use Google to find the dead man’s address? You could go poke around his house.”
“You want me to trespass at a murder victim’s house?
“Either that or you could lie down and take a nap with me. Maybe your story will write itself.” She said and rolled over on her back. “But, lady, before you go, could you rub my belly.”
I still had the keys to Aunt Kara’s car, so I snuck out through the cellar door. I was worried that I’d see Lester’s ghost again, but I didn’t. Besides, why should I be scared of him? We’d already met.
The cellar door was unlocked when Jezebel led me down there, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt too much to leave it unlocked again. I didn’t plan on being gone long, and I’d make sure to latch it again when I got back. It wasn’t a good idea to leave it open like that.
It was important that I get away from all of the hubbub to do my research, so I pulled Kara’s car out of the lot and drove down the road. Within a few miles, I found the picnic area that I’d passed on my way to the job interview earlier in the day. There wasn’t any Wi-Fi in the area, so I turned my phone into a hotspot and hoped for the best.
The internet crawled out here because of the forest, but I was still able to use Google to find Lester Crumbly’s address. He had several social media accounts too, but it looked like he’d stopped posting on them a long time ago when a flood of negative posts hit them.
I closed my laptop, put it in the passenger seat, and plugged the address into the GPS. Lester’s house was on the outskirts of town if you could even call it that. The turnoff for his place must have been almost a mile outside of the Tree’s Hollow town limits, and after I had turned onto his driveway, I found myself driving deep into the woods.
Lester’s cabin was small. It’s metal roof looked like it was in desperate need of some attention. As did his front door and windows. In fact, it didn’t appear that a handyman lived in the house at all. I got back online and checked the address. I was in the right place, so I got out of the car and started to walk around to the back of the house.
There didn’t appear to be any police around. I guess that should have been obvious since there wasn’t a cruiser in the driveway. If something happened and they had shown up, I would have sworn that I was just new in town and got lost.
I wasn’t sure how far that story would get me considering I was snooping around a murder victim’s house, but it was the best I could come up with at the time. The truth was that I was more nervous than I’d ever been in my entire life. My heart was pounding out of my chest, and a cold line of sweat was running down my back. A breeze kicked up out of nowhere, and it gave me chills.
I stopped at a small window on the side of the cabin, stood up on the tips of my toes, and tried to peek inside. The inside of the cabin was dark, but since the sun was starting to hang low in the sky outside, it actually helped me see inside the house.
The cabin was small and sparsely furnished. The living room, dining area, and kitchen were all one big room. There were only two doors off the main room, and I assumed those were the bathroom and bedroom. I surveyed the room for signs of foul play but then reminded myself that he was murdered at the inn.
My calves started to ache from holding me up, so I stopped looking in the side window and walked around to the back. The rear door to the cabin was closed, but curiosity got the better of me, and I reached out to turn the knob.
“Can I help you with something?” A deep male voice asked from behind me.
I yelped, or squeaked, and let go of the knob. At first, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just stood there as still as I could manage and hoped that he’d go away.
“I can see you, ya know. No matter how much you try to ignore me.” He said with a chuckle.
The sound of his laugh brought a smile to my face despite the fact that I was trying to break into a dead man’s house. I clenched and unclenched my hands a couple of times while taking deep breaths. I was hoping to prepare myself for this confrontation, but it became abundantly clear that my only choice was just to turn around and face the music.
I turned around and tried to apologize, but the words got stuck in my throat. I’d lived in a city with at least a million men, and I’d never seen one like this before. He took a step towards me, and I squeaked again.
Ranger McDreamy was standing in front of me in all of his six-foot-two glory looking every inch the rugged Norse god I suddenly imagined he was. His blue eyes sparkled in the fading afternoon sun, and his strong, square jaw was covered with the perfect amount of stubble.
I rubbed my cheek reflexively when I thought about it brushing against my face. I had to have been about a half of a second away from drooling all over myself when he spoke again.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” He asked.
“Uh huh.” But, honestly, I was still mesmerized by the way his Ranger’s uniform fit him just right.
“Ma’am?”
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, uh. I’m uh. Hi there.” I said and smiled at him.
“Is there something I can help you with? Are you looking for Mr. Crumbly?”
“No, not looking for him.”
“I didn’t think so. It’s customary to use the front door.” He said and took another step towards me.
I suppressed the squeak that time, but my brain wouldn’t engage to help me come up with a reason for being there snooping around a dead man’s house.
“Are you going to make me guess why you’re here or are you just going to tell me?” He continued.
I could hear hints of both amusement and impatience in his voice. Once I was able to pull my gaze away from his biceps, I started to formulate coherent thoughts again.
“Are you going to tell me why a Forest Ranger is in Lester’s back yard?” I used his first name as if I knew him to add an air of authority to my question.
“You know, only guilty people and lawyers answer questions with a question.” He smirked at me impishly.
Was he bantering with me?
“I’m neither of those things,” I said with a shy smile. “Well, I suppose I’m guilty of snooping.” Something about this man makes the truth spill out of me in a way I didn’t expect. “I’m Lenny Brewer, the newest investigative reporter for the Tree’s Hollow Tribune.”
I extended my hand to him and flashed Ranger McDreamy my best, please don’t call the cops on me smile. He took my hand and shook it firmly, but what caught me off guard was the feeling of electrical current that ran between us.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Brewer. I’m Nathan Carter. I’m a ranger.” He said and let go of my hand.
“Oh, really? I thought maybe you were an astronaut.” At this point, I really hoped he was bantering earlier.
“Well, I thought you were a thief, but it turns out you’re just trespassing,” Nathan said completely stone-faced.
“Oh gosh. I mean, I wasn’t trying to break the law or anything.” I stammered.
“Whoa, it’s okay.” He said with his hands up in front of him in surrender. “I was just teasing you. Sorry. You’re as white as I’ve ever seen a person turn.”
Seven
“I suppose the proper thing to do is to call the Sheriff seeing as how you’re snooping around a murder victim’s house before the police have even had the chance to search the place, but somehow that doesn’t seem right. They’ll never solve the case, you know.” Nathan said.
; “So, that means I have two questions for you,” I said hoping to keep the conversation off calling the police.
“Well, go on.”
For a moment, I’m stunned. I can’t believe that he’s actually letting me engage him in a conversation. There’s a post holding up the awning over the back porch, and he leans against it. I lose my train of thought for a moment because I’d never seen a man lean up against a pole quite the way Nathan did. I managed to shake it off before he asked me if I was okay again.
“The first question is that I’m wondering what a forest ranger is doing in a murder victim’s back yard.”
“Mr. Crumbly’s land borders the woods. I drop in and say hello sometimes when my patrol brings me close.” Nathan answered. “What about your second question?”
I didn’t get the chance to ask Nathan another question. His radio crackled and came to life. He’d gotten a call about a hiker with a broken ankle and had to leave.
“Meet me tonight at the coffee house on the square.” He said just before he left.
Nathan didn’t wait for an answer, but that’s okay because I would have said yes. I probably would have agreed a little too enthusiastically, so his hasty departure saved me from embarrassing myself again.
When I was just about to abandon my search, my luck turned for the worse. My hand was on the car door handle when the Sherriff’s cruiser pulled in behind my car.
“I’m going to need you to come with me, Ma’am.”
It was just my luck that another tall, ruggedly handsome man wanted my attention today. Sherriff Hanson was almost as tall as Nathan was, but he had dark, wavy hair and big friendly brown eyes.
Fortunately, I didn’t feel the same vibe with him as I did with Nathan. That would have made my life unbearably complicated. Sheriff Hanson, Brad, was easy to look at, though, and it did make my interrogation a bit more interesting.
Brad let me follow him to the County Sherriff’s office instead of taking me in his car. It was a few miles away, and I used the drive to calm my nerves. Apparently, none of the towns in Hardin County had their own police departments anymore, and now Sheriff Hanson and a few deputies had to protect and serve the entire area.
I guessed that was why Nathan said they’d never solve the murder, and it wasn’t because he was indicating that Brad and his deputies were incompetent.
You never know, though.
The police department’s building was small. Brad led me through an office area with a few desks to the only interrogation room. It didn’t look like the ones I’d seen in the movies at all.
There was another desk with two chairs near the back wall of the room. Right inside the door was a small red sofa, fake wood coffee table, and a worn easy chair. It was all very comfortable and shabby chic.
Brad gestured towards the sofa and said: “Have a seat.”
He sat down on the chair and set a recording device down on the pre-fab coffee table. Brad rattled off the date and a bunch of other jargon as he started recording. I probably should have been paying attention, but I was too busy looking around the room.
The walls were decorated with old movie posters in gold frames. At first, I wondered how safe it was to have something that could be used as a weapon hanging on the walls, but then I realized they were most likely nailed down tight.
“Are you ready to begin, Ms. Brewer?” Brad said.
He over-enunciated my name for the recording, and it almost made me laugh. I caught the giggle just in time. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I was a suspect or they were just gathering information. I probably should have picked up on the fact that I was in an interrogation room, but it went right over my head at the time.
“Sure,” I said, and then the weight of the situation hit me. “Uh, am I under arrest?”
“Should you be?” Brad answered my question with a question, and I remembered what Nathan said about guilty people and lawyer. It made me smile.
“No. I shouldn’t be. I would like to help, though. I’m not really sure how much I can do for you right now. I don’t know anything about Lester’s death.”
“You call him Lester like you knew him. That seems odd given how new you are in town. It’s also peculiar that you were poking around his house before the police even had a chance to search the place.” Brad said and leaned toward me.
“I didn’t know him at all. I just moved here, and I only called him by name because I found it on the internet. Sorry. What I meant was that I don’t know anything about Mr. Crumbly’s death.” I was suddenly filled with righteous indignation over Sheriff Hanson’s accusations.
“I understand.” He softened considerably. “Did you see anything at his place? Anything I should know about?”
“No, not really. A forest ranger came upon me while I was investigating and interrupted me.” I said thoughtfully. “I got back to the inn after he was already dead. I didn’t see anybody around. In fact, I didn’t even see you or my Aunt Kara. I only heard your voices. Then, I left for Lester’s place.”
“If you didn’t see me, how do you know I was there?” Brad asked. He pulled a notepad and pen out of his jacket pocket.
“As I said, I heard your voice. It was you, wasn’t it?”
“It was. So, you said that a forest ranger found you trespassing on Mr. Crumbly’s property. Can you tell me the name of the ranger?”
This guy was really getting my hackles up. He was so smug and accusatory, and I wasn’t quite sure how to take that. There was no reason to believe I’d killed the man. Sure, I was new in town, and I’d been investigating his house, but I had no reason to stab a man in the back while he changed lightbulbs.
“His name was Nathan Carter,” I answered as cordially as I could.
“That’s what I thought. What I can’t fathom is why he didn’t call me when he caught you trespassing.” Brad said and scratched his temple with the end of his pen.
“I wasn’t trespassing. I was investigating. I’m an investigative reporter.” I said impatiently.
“Oh really? So, would you mind showing me your press credentials, then?”
I must have turned about fifty shades of red. I was sure Charles would get my credentials for me, but I didn’t have them yet. To anyone but my new boss, I just looked like some snoopy crackpot.
“I don’t have them yet. But, you can call my new boss, Charles Zapier, and I’m sure he’ll vouch for me.” I mumbled.
“You know, I believe you. The problem is that you can’t just trespass and call it an investigation. Do we have an understanding?”
“We do,” I responded.
“And, if you do find anything out that could help with the actual police investigation, you’re going to bring that information to me.” He said sternly. “Right?”
Right then, any attraction I felt to Sherriff Stickuphisbutt vanished. He was still handsome, but all of a sudden, it felt like I was in the presence of a very stern and frustratingly annoying big brother.
“Fine.” I crossed my fingers behind my back when I said this, so it wasn’t technically a lie.
Sherriff Brad Stickuphisbutt gave me his business card and offered to drive me back to the inn. I told him I had my car, but I ended up having to insist that I could drive myself.
On the drive back to town, I reflected on my first day in Tree’s Hollow. I stopped in at the inn to change clothes for my coffee date with Nathan. Jezebel was in our room waiting for dinner, which I fed her dutifully before I searched through my suitcases for something suitable to wear.
I didn’t want to overdress and come off as desperate, so I settled on a black sweater, jeans, and my favorite black boots.
“Why don’t you come over here and sit down for a moment.” Jezebel teased as soon as I pulled on the black sweater.
“In your dreams cat.”
“You won’t be out too late, will you?” She said and hopped up on the mini fridge next to the television stand.
“I’m just having coffee with a new friend. I’ll be home
in plenty of time for an early bedtime, and I’m touched that you miss me.” I said and patted her head.
“Lady, I’m don’t miss you. I wanted to make sure you were here in time for my bedtime snack.” Jezebel said and jumped down.
With a shake of my head and a sigh, I left the room. I know Jez wanted to wander the halls, but there were guests around, so I locked the door behind me. She knew how to open the panels to the secret passages, so I figured she could explore inside the walls if she got too restless.
I stopped downstairs in the breakfast room and asked Aunt Kara if I could use her car again. The inn hosts a cocktail and appetizer hour for guests. It would usually be held in the parlor, according to the flyer in my room, but I guess due to the murder they were holding it downstairs tonight.
“Of course you can take the car. I’m in for the evening. Not that I go too many places. Who are you meeting?” She asked, but I could tell by the twinkle in her eye that Aunt Kara already knew.
The Coffee Cabal looked like most of the other trendy coffee houses I’d visited in the city, but somehow the atmosphere was different. No one sitting at the smattering of tables was on their phone or a laptop, and there were several small groups of people having quiet conversations.
I walked in and stood back from the counter studying the menu while I waited for Nathan to arrive. The menu looked fairly standard with a variety of different hot and cold drinks. I was delighted to see that they had my favorite, iced chai, on the menu.
“I vote we order coffee.” Nathan practically appeared next to me.
“I prefer tea. Chai to be exact.”
“Black coffee for me. The darker, the better. Do you want that Chai hot or iced?” He said before stepping up to the counter. “I’m going to guess iced.”
“You’d be correct.” Him knowing what I like to drink made me smile like a silly school girl.
I was going to have to be careful, or I might end up falling for Ranger McDreamy. He paid for our drinks and then led us to an empty table near the windows. The insides of the window frames were lined with what looked like Christmas lights in the shape of chili peppers. The glow gave the place a magical feel that you only noticed when you were seated at a table.
Brewing Love: A Witchy Mystery (Tree's Hollow Witches Book 1) Page 5
