Match Made In Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  Mia all but quaked with relief. They’d stopped at Raven’s place, not at some secret deserted lair where Silas the serial killer brought his victims. It was her cousin’s . . . cabin?

  Curious, Mia unlatched the door and stepped out of the truck. Raven lived here? Worse, Mia was going to stay here?

  Like she was approaching a train wreck, she moved in for closer look.

  The cabin was small, that was for sure; small and old. The wood siding was weathered to gray. The stone chimney going up a side wall didn’t look all that secure. The roof didn’t look particularly weatherproof and—Mia glanced around—it was completely isolated in the middle of a forest.

  She didn’t know what kinds of animals were out here, but her imagination ran wild as she stopped to listen. Something rustled in the thick underbrush. Anything could be hiding there.

  She had a choice of risking whatever had made that noise, hopping back into the truck or getting inside the cabin. The cabin was closer. Plus, Silas was in there—possible protection, all things considered. She was curious to see where Raven lived, so she made a quick dash for the cabin.

  The door hinges squeaked predictably as she pushed it open. Silas turned from where he’d set down her suitcases next to a faded red brocade sofa in a tiny living room alcove with two armchairs arranged around a battered coffee table and a black woodstove.

  Along a windowed wall beside her was a raw wooden countertop and a single stainless steel sink with a drain rack holding two plates and two glasses. Tea towels hung from hooks on the wall next to open shelves that held dishes and dry goods.

  “You change your mind?” he asked. He didn’t look so scary anymore; a little intimidating still, but she realized she’d let her imagination run very far away. To be fair, it had been egged on by the setting. It would be easy to stage a murder mystery in a place like this.

  “I need to use the restroom,” she told him.

  “On your left.”

  She looked to find a small white door against the entry wall. It opened to an airline-sized bathroom—coach, not first-class. There was a cracked pedestal sink beside the door, an odd-looking toilet next to the sink and across from a white tin shower stall with a plastic curtain.

  She had to shimmy around the door to close it.

  She sat gingerly down on the toilet then needed to hunt for toilet paper, finding it up above her on a window ledge. The roll felt slightly damp from condensation but did the job.

  Then she stood and looked to flush.

  There was no handle.

  She looked around the back then on the wall, closing the lid, then opening it again.

  She finally gave up.

  On an overall humiliating day, this was the worst.

  She moved to the door. “Silas?”

  Nothing.

  “Silas!” she called louder.

  His footsteps sounded approaching the bathroom door. “You okay?”

  There was nothing to do but come right out and ask. “How do you flush?”

  “Foot pedal,” he said. “Down front. It’s black.”

  She looked. “I see it.”

  “Scoop some water from the bucket. It’s under the sink.”

  She looked and found the metal bucket. Half full of water, it had a dipper hanging out the side.

  “Seriously?” she muttered to herself. “Seriously?”

  But it worked. She scooped some water into the bowl and stepped on the pedal; the hatch opened and all was well. At least, all was well until she tried to wash her hands.

  The taps on the sink turned out to be decorative. So, she used the scoop again along with a sliver of soap on the edge of the sink. Then she dried off on a white and pink floral towel that hung above.

  She came out of the bathroom feeling somewhat shell-shocked and gazed around the cabin again, wondering if she was being pranked. Did the citizens of Paradise bring all their visitors here as a joke and pretend it was where they’d be staying?

  Cast iron pans dangled from hooks attached to the bare rafters. Another three metal buckets were stacked beneath the open sink. A row of white porcelain canisters lined the back of the counter, decreasing in size, and labeled flour, sugar, oatmeal and coffee.

  Maybe this was a museum.

  Silas came her way, and the place got smaller still. “You ready?”

  She waited a moment, hoping he’d laugh and let her in on the joke.

  He didn’t.

  “Yes,” she said, glancing past him in lingering disbelief.

  “Good. Let’s go see Raven.”

  Chapter Three

  Mia followed Silas past the yawning Galina loading dock, feeling dwarfed by a silent semi truck and trailer parked there. They crossed into a noisy warehouse and gave a forklift a wide berth as they wound their way among stacks of wood pallets to parallel a concrete wall.

  She gazed around at the cavernous space, taking in crates and pallets, shelves and equipment. Another forklift whizzed past, startling her at how close it came. Then she flinched at a loud metallic clang in the distance, followed by some shouted instructions.

  Raven appeared around the corner of a shelving unit dressed in sturdy boots and a bright orange vest, a yellow hard hat perched on her head. She spotted them, ditched the hat on a shelf and smiled as she sped up.

  Mia rushed forward to meet her. “Raven, hi!”

  It felt good to hug her cousin for the first time in years.

  Silas hung back, obviously meaning to give them privacy.

  “I am so sorry about Alastair,” Raven whispered into her ear.

  “Thank you.”

  “You must miss him.”

  “I do.”

  “Tell me how I can help.”

  Mia appreciated the sympathy, but she wasn’t a fragile grieving widow. “I did have some time to prepare for it. We both did.”

  Raven drew back and tilted her head, looking slightly perplexed. “You did? I know he was older than you, but . . .”

  “He was fifty. It was his heart. And we’d known about his condition for quite a long time.”

  Raven smoothed Mia’s shoulder. “That must have been a terrible ordeal.”

  Mia didn’t like to frame it as an ordeal. Alastair hadn’t. He’d accepted it and made the best of the time he had. She wanted to respect that.

  “He was at peace with it in the end,” she said. “And so was I. So am I.”

  Raven considered Mia’s expression for a second. “You’re strong. Good for you.”

  Mia wouldn’t describe herself as strong. But she was focused on the future. “It’s good to finally be here.” She took in Raven’s fit-looking form, clear eyes and healthy skin. “And you look fantastic. You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Raven scoffed out a laugh. “Well, I changed my clothes, that’s for sure.” She gestured to her work pants, gray T-shirt and steel-toed boots. “Last time we were together was at that Hollywood party. We were fresh from the hair salon and makeup artists, wearing the Lafayette collection.”

  Mia remembered. It had been loads of fun for them as teenagers. She and Raven had clicked on that visit, and she’d felt a closeness to her ever since, even though their lives had gone in very different directions.

  “How was the flight?” Raven asked, then added to Silas in a louder tone, “Thanks for bringing her in.”

  “No problem.” He moved closer now, and Mia tried to decide if there was some irony in his voice.

  “The flight was good,” Mia put in. She’d appreciated his effort, if not so much his attitude. Now she looked around. “So this is where you work?”

  “This is it.” Raven gestured around the massive space.

  There was another metallic clang on the far side of the room.

  “It’s loud,” Mia said as the jangle reverberated in her eardrums.


  “We have hearing protection. You want a pair of earplugs?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I’ll just go grab my things, then,” Raven said.

  “Can I help out at all?” Silas asked Raven.

  “The Viking manifest flagged dangerous goods. Can you double-check the permits and packaging?”

  “On it.”

  “Thanks, Silas.”

  “He works here too?” Mia asked, confused by the exchange.

  “Silas? No. He’s a full-time pilot.”

  “I don’t understand.” Mia watched Silas walk away.

  “WSA crew pitches in where they can. Galina ships goods into town by truck then WSA flies the last leg to the customer. Brodie, the owner of WSA, encourages collaboration, and Silas is his number-one guy.”

  “Really?” Mia had a hard time picturing Silas as Mr. Good Attitude.

  A forklift cruised to a stop beside them and a worker peeled off his hard hat and earmuffs as he hopped out, tablet in his hand. “Can you sign off on the Wildflower Lake order?” he asked Raven.

  “Everything accounted for?” Raven asked as she looked something up on her own tablet.

  The man’s gaze flicked to Mia a couple times. “Looks good. Mostly groceries and cleaning supplies. Nothing’s back-ordered.”

  Raven scanned the screen and looked up at him. “Rocks?”

  “That’s what I asked,” he said, sounding as though he felt vindicated. “Giallo marble. They’re redecorating something in the lodge. Crazy rich people.”

  Raven shook her head and grinned. “Rocks it is.”

  “Giallo’s nice,” Mia chimed in. One of her neighbors had recently used it when they renovated their entryway. “Gold, very lustrous.”

  The worker’s gaze stayed on her this time.

  “Looks like they made a good choice,” Raven said. “Leon, this is my cousin Mia Westberg. Mia, Leon. He’s one of our shippers at Galina Expediting.”

  “Nice to meet you, Leon.” Mia offered her hand.

  Leon fumbled as he peeled off his leather glove to close his hand over hers. “Welcome to Paradise.”

  He seemed flustered, so Mia tried to put him at ease. “Thank you. It looks like you’re all busy around here.”

  “Really busy.” Leon spoke in a rush. “Late trucks today and more coming in early tomorrow. We’ll be loading up every plane Brodie’s got. Are you staying long?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” Mia said. She glanced down to where Leon was still pumping her hand, hoping to prompt him to let go.

  He quickly did and pulled back. “Well . . . Uh . . .”

  Raven lifted her brow in Leon’s direction. “You going to load up the Wildflower Lake order?”

  “Yeah.” Looking sheepish, he quickly stuffed the tablet under his arm. “Bye, Mia.” He backed up a couple of steps before turning.

  The radio on Raven’s chest crackled and a voice came through. “Kenneth for Raven.”

  Raven pressed a button. “Raven here. Go ahead, Kenneth.”

  “Brodie says they can do Viking tonight if we’re ready in an hour.”

  “Can you make it?” she asked.

  “It’ll be tight.”

  “You need my help?”

  “Silas is here to help. Can I keep AJ?”

  “You bet.”

  “Thanks. Kenneth out.”

  “Am I in the way?” Mia asked, feeling awkward and out of place with so much going on around her.

  Raven swiftly shook her head. “No, you’re good.”

  But Mia wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure? Because I can—” She pointed back behind them, thinking she could find somewhere to wait outside.

  “No,” Raven repeated emphatically. “I was about to ask Kenneth to take over so we could get out of here.”

  She extracted her cell phone and dialed, waiting a moment as the call rang through. “I’m taking off early today. Can you take care of things here?”

  She paused.

  “Because my cousin just got to town. I’ll catch up on everything in the morning. I’ll be available by phone if you need anything tonight.”

  Mia moved into Raven’s line of sight. Still worried, she whispered. “I can just—”

  “We’re good,” Raven said with a nod of reassurance that looked sincere. Into the phone she said, “Thanks, Kenneth. I appreciate that.”

  She pocketed her phone and gave Mia a bright smile. “Let’s go.”

  On the way out, Raven was stopped several times for questions and instructions. People seemed like they were in a rush to get her input before she left.

  “Are your bags in Silas’s truck?” Raven asked as they finally passed through the exit door into the much quieter in the parking lot.

  “Silas dropped my bags off at your place.”

  “Oh good. That was nice of him. Careful of the puddles.” Like Silas back at the airstrip, Raven didn’t seem to trust Mia’s boots.

  Mia wasn’t sure why. Then again, it had never occurred to her to wonder if they were waterproof.

  She caught sight of Silas striding their way.

  “Heading home?” he asked Raven, falling into step with them.

  “We’re going to get Mia settled in. You? Flight tonight?”

  He nodded. “As many as we can while the weather holds. I’m heading for the Bear and Bar first, grabbing a burger to take along.”

  “Sounds good, just let me know if—” Raven stopped short, staring at the damaged bumper on Silas’s truck.

  Mia’s heart sank at the extent of it—a rather large U-shaped dent that still trailed a pine branch.

  “What happened here?” Raven sounded and looked amused.

  Silas gaze met Mia’s, obviously expecting her to speak up.

  She didn’t mind taking responsibility for the dent, but she was embarrassed by why it had happened.

  “What?” Raven asked, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

  Silas waited, while Mia struggled to compose a reasonable answer.

  Then he spoke up. “Not a huge problem. Mia misjudged a turnaround.”

  “Mia misjudged—” Raven looked baffled.

  “I’ve never driven a truck,” Mia added, appreciating that Silas had glossed over her behavior. “Alastair liked having a driver most of the time,” she explained. “I sometimes drove the BMW to the club or up the coast to meet the girls. But nothing as big as a pickup truck.”

  “You drove Silas’s truck?” Raven looked baffled.

  “No big deal,” Silas said, pulling the tree branch from the dent and tossing it over the fence. “Cobra will pound it out for me.”

  “Maybe I should learn more about trucks,” Mia said. “You know, when in Rome.”

  Raven stared at her in perplexed silence.

  “Well, Milan mostly,” Mia kept talking, not knowing what else to do. “We only went down to Rome once. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, unless you like really old, crumbling buildings.”

  Catching sight of Raven’s and Silas’s bewildered expressions, she stopped talking and silence took over.

  “I guess I’ll go get that burger,” Silas said.

  Mia didn’t wait for Raven’s response before heading for the passenger seat of the truck, face warm with embarrassment.

  After a pause, Raven headed for the other door. “What was that all about?” she asked as she climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “It was just a tiny misunderstanding,” Mia said.

  Raven waited a moment. “And?”

  Mia struggled to pull out the seatbelt, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “You don’t really need one around here,” Raven told her.

  Mia gave up on it, sitting up straight, crossing her legs and looking out the windshield, hopin
g Raven would simply move on.

  Thankfully, she started the engine. “Are you that embarrassed about hitting a tree?”

  Mia heaved a sigh, giving up on the pretense, not liking that she was holding information back from Raven. “I tried to steal his truck, okay.”

  “You what?” Raven sounded thoroughly shocked. “Why would you do that?”

  Mia curled her hands in her lap.

  “Why?” Raven repeated.

  “You can’t tell him. You have to swear here and now on . . . on something important . . . that you’ll never tell him why.”

  “I swear on my . . . job.”

  “Your job?”

  “It’s important to me.”

  “Fine. I thought he was a serial killer.”

  “Silas?”

  “It sounds silly now.” Mia knew that.

  “Now?” Raven asked. “Was there a point where it didn’t sound silly?”

  Mia tried to explain. “He drove me to your house. He didn’t even tell me it was your house, and—” She hated to be blunt, but she wanted her cousin to understand. “No offense, Raven, but it looked more like a creepy killer’s lair than my cousin’s home.”

  Raven rubbed her hands on the steering wheel for a moment. “Okay, fair enough; the place does need a little maintenance, I’ll admit.” She looked embarrassed and Mia felt bad about being judgmental.

  She quickly moved on. “Silas left the keys in the ignition. So, when he took the suitcases inside, I tried to escape.”

  “But, you didn’t.”

  “He caught me.”

  “On foot?”

  Mia wasn’t wild about the note of respect in Raven’s voice and felt the need to defend herself. “Hitting the tree slowed me down.”

  A laugh erupted from Raven. “What did you tell him?”

  “He assumed I was afraid of mice.”

  “I don’t have mice.”

  “I know. That’s what Silas said.”

  “That’s hilarious.”

  “You can’t tell anyone, ever.”

  “All right.” Raven put the truck into reverse and backed out of the spot. “Silas is harmless, you know. He doesn’t even like to fish.”