“And that’s why you don’t want me cooperating with Ballard?”
“Exactly. It might get awkward down the road.”
“You mean when a body turns up?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you and Zeb Longhorn still not get along?”
Lando’s jaw tightened. “Ballard really has been flapping his gums, hasn’t he? Look, anything that happens out on the Rez is Longhorn’s problem. We rarely, if ever, coordinate on cases. There’s just no reason to. He has his jurisdiction. I have mine. The two of us have no reason to meet in the middle that often, if ever. What else did Ballard go on about?”
“Nothing flattering, I’m afraid. Do you really think Gram’s death was an accident?”
He bobbed his head in response. “I do. But I can see how Ballard put the idea in your head and it stuck. Now it won’t leave. Doesn’t it bother you to stay here in this house knowing Marissa died mere steps away from where we’re sitting?”
“It did at first. But when Alex Kedderson read the will and said she left me everything I forced myself to get over it. No way was I going to let someone else live in her house. Same goes for the business she built from scratch. Besides, I wanted out of San Francisco, out of my mother’s reach.”
“That’s why your Volvo is still parked in the courtyard, isn’t it?”
“I guess you do know me. I couldn’t bring myself to park it in the garage. The other day I tried going out there to start Gram’s Buick but I…I couldn’t do it.”
Rufus came skidding into the room to curl up at Gemma’s feet.
“I guess I better get going,” Lando announced. “I hope my coming here clears the way for you to go to Leia’s house Saturday night for dinner.”
“It doesn’t hurt knowing we can be in the same room together without making a scene.”
“Or you throwing things at my head.”
“I don’t do that anymore. I grew up.”
“Good to know.”
“Thanks for stopping by.” She awkwardly held out her hand to shake his.
He squeezed her fingers and looked up into her eyes. “Ten years ago we would’ve been ripping each other’s clothes off right about now.”
“Those were the days. Leia said you were dating a woman from Klamath.”
“Jennifer Hollis.”
Gemma’s mouth fell open. “The cheerleader who was a year behind us?”
“Yep. She contacted me on Facebook last month after her divorce became final. We’ve been online friends ever since, chatting it up about old times back at good ol’ Coyote Wells High. She moved to Klamath about the same time our marriage busted up. I caught her up on all the gossip.”
“That’s so touching,” Gemma said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Warms my heart to know Facebook makes it so easy to connect to people who wouldn’t give you the time of day back when they were sitting behind you in third-period English class and now want to be your bestie.”
She walked him to the front door. “Good luck with Jennifer.”
Lando smiled back at her. “Do I detect just a hint of the old green-eyed monster popping up from our time together?”
Her lips curved. “Not me. Here’s hoping you and Jennifer have six kids.”
“She already has two. Boys.”
“There you go, you get a ready-made family out of the deal. Like I said. Touching.”
After he’d gone, she turned the lock on the door, wondering what other kind of comeback she could’ve mustered. The truth wouldn’t have worked, not in a million years. He’d moved on and she couldn’t blame him for it. But wow, she couldn’t believe she’d lied with the flair and finesse of a master. Maybe enough of Genevieve’s talent for drama and dishonesty had finally rubbed off on her. Maybe if the chocolate shop failed, she could get a job selling used cars.
5
Gemma took Paloma’s advice to heart and went back to grinding her cocoa beans by hand.
By midday, even she thought her batch of truffles tasted yummier than they had in weeks. She looked over at Rufus, who’d been relegated to one corner of the shop. “You must be my lucky charm. We’re on a roll today.”
She started humming a Whitehorse song and doing a little dance. “I bet I’ve gained eight pounds since I started working here,” she said as she wiggled her hips. “My mother would be having a fit right about now. Don’t you agree, Rufus?”
When the front door opened, she was feeling good about helping the next customer. It was a young woman, perhaps thirty, with pretty hazel eyes and a crop of sable brown hair cut in a sleek bob. She had on a pair of torn jeans and a green, baggy sweatshirt that said PSU across the chest.
“It smells wonderful in here,” the petite female extolled, clutching a stack of flyers to her chest.
“That’s the power of chocolate. What can I get you?”
“I’m Lianne Whittaker, Collette’s sister. Mr. Ballard, her boss, told me I should look you up while I’m in town. He said you were thinking about helping us find Collette.”
“He shouldn’t have told you that. I’m not sure what I could do, other than bug law enforcement.” The idea of taking another jab at Lando though made her smile. “Have you done that?”
“I just left the police station. But the man I spoke with wasn’t all that much help. He certainly couldn’t offer any hope that we’d find Collette any time soon. Would you at least let me put up a flyer?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got some tape around here somewhere.”
Lianne held up a small dispenser. “I brought my own.” She showed off a leather laptop bag with even more flyers stuffed down inside. “I even brought a heavy-duty stapler for telephone poles.”
“I’m impressed. You came prepared. Have a seat. I’ll fix you some cocoa. On the house.”
Lianne plopped down and blew out a loud breath. “Thanks. I’m down here from Portland, and I’ve been walking around town all day. I’m pooped. I’m staying in Collette’s house for a few weeks. My mom and dad have been trying to keep up the mortgage payments and the utility bills so her house won’t go into foreclosure while Collette is…missing. But we aren’t rich people. I was so hoping that by now I’d get some news about where she is. Our parents are worried sick.”
The sad look on the young woman’s face had Gemma wanting to do something. “I’m so sorry. Did you know much about Collette’s life here?”
“We talked all the time. Every day in fact. If you’re wondering…yeah, I know she was having an affair with Vince.”
“Were you aware Vince isn’t exactly…the…?”
“Faithful sort,” Lianne supplied. “Yes. I know that, too. But Collette didn’t seem to mind. We didn’t agree on that, by the way.”
“Yeah. I’m afraid I don’t understand it either. I must not be the sharing type.”
Lianne’s lips curved into a wide smile. “You and me both.”
Gemma slid a cup of cocoa onto the counter. “Then I guess you know Collette isn’t the only woman missing.”
“Vince told me that, too. Marnie Hightower. And he was seeing her, too. It doesn’t sound too good for Mr. Ballard. Do you think he was involved in their disappearances?”
“He’s either a savvy sociopath who wants us to buy his story or he has the worst luck with dinner dates.”
“Or bedmates. That’s what I was thinking.” Lianne sipped her hot chocolate. “This stuff is wonderful, makes me think of my childhood. What’s in it? Does it come in packets that I could take back home when I go?”
“There’s a bit of cinnamon, a splash of chili pepper, and a hint of vanilla. But no. I make it up fresh when the customer orders it. There are no packets.”
Lianne licked her lips, enjoying the flavor of the drink. “You wouldn’t by any chance need part-time help in here, would you?”
“I thought you said you’d only be here for a few weeks?”
“I’m not sure about that. My boss fired me when I told him I was coming down here. He wouldn’t allow me
to take a leave of absence. My dad gave me spending money to last a couple of weeks, but…after talking with the police chief I get the sense he’s no closer to finding her than he was in March. That’s disheartening. I’m stubborn. I don’t want to go back to Portland without knowing what happened.”
“That’s the one thing you shouldn’t do…get discouraged. If he wouldn’t let you take time off, you had a crappy boss. It isn’t your fault your sister went missing. Where were you working?”
“I waited tables at a trendy restaurant in downtown Portland. The tips were good, but the customers were…demanding.”
“There’s a few like that around here. But you know, I could use some counter help. While I’m working on the batches of chocolate, I often get interrupted and have to leave what I’m doing to wait on customers. Maybe that’s why the chocolate texture and taste is so different from one batch to the next. I get interrupted so much and forget what I’ve added to the mix. It affects the consistency.”
“That makes sense. I’d love to work in a candy shop. Of course, I’d probably gain five pounds a day.”
“Gained eight in a few weeks. But I have an excuse. I’m always having to sample the product.”
“Yes, but you’re taller than I am and thinner. You can get away with carrying the weight.”
Gemma decided she could work with Lianne just fine. “When can you start?”
Lianne sat up straighter. “Now. Today. I’ve already unpacked my suitcases. I’d planned to spend my time putting up these flyers around the downtown area and then branch out to the neighborhoods.”
“That’s a great idea. I notice you don’t have the flyers in plastic sheets.”
“Should I?”
“It would protect them from the weather. You don’t have to worry about the ones that go inside, but the ones tacked to a pole should get a protective covering.”
“Have you done this before?”
“Nope. But it just makes sense. Otherwise, you’ll be replacing the flyers every other day. The wind blowing off the ocean wreaks havoc on a piece of paper. Trust me.”
“I don’t have any protective plastic.”
“We’ll pick some up at the office supply store. It’s just down the street. In the meantime, I’ll show you the ropes this afternoon, drill you on the quirky cash register that has a tendency for the keys to stick, and get you familiar with the different types of candy. Then I’ll help you put up the posters after I close.”
“You’d do that?”
“Gotta do something. Until I figure out how a rank amateur goes about conducting an investigation, what else is there?”
The day went by fast teaching Lianne about the various liqueurs involved with each kind of drink and how each chocolate candy differed in taste depending on what ingredient was added. By five o’clock Gemma turned the CLOSE sign around and locked the door.
She and Lianne, along with Rufus, set out on foot putting up posters in the windows of all the downtown businesses. They covered Lighthouse Landing and the rest of the western part of the peninsula’s beachfront properties.
“We should have a poster for Marnie,” Gemma noted. “I’ll take care of that tonight at home.”
“Good idea. But I didn’t know about Marnie when I put together Collette’s.”
“That’s okay. I’ll take care of it. If you need anything at all, have any questions about anything, this is my cell number. You have the information for the shop. And here’s my home address. It might come in handy in case you need to find me during off hours. I’ll see you back at work in the morning.”
“Thanks for everything,” Lianne said, turning to go. But before she walked away, she stopped and pivoted back. “You don’t think I have anything to worry about staying at Collette’s place, do you? I mean, she did go missing there.”
Gemma made a face. “I didn’t think of that. Have you stayed there before at night?”
“Not by myself. Collette was always there.”
“I think you’ll be fine. But if you need to talk, you’ve got my number.”
“You’d better write down Collette’s address just in case. The house is over on Cape Dunes Drive, but not near the water. It’s on the other side of the road. The number’s 432.”
“Got it. And don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be fine, you don’t have anything to worry about. This is a safe town.” Or it used to be Gemma thought as she headed back the other way, past Jolly’s Fish Market. She had a stop to make before going home.
Armed with a new batch of truffles she couldn’t wait to get Paloma’s take on the taste. And she needed it before she started selling them tomorrow.
She hotfooted it two blocks over to Dolphin Way and to the Mediterranean-style bungalow that belonged to Paloma.
“Mind if I bring Rufus in?” Gemma asked when Paloma opened the door.
“Now how could I mind such a well-behaved big boy coming in to visit my Dinkums?”
Dinkums, Gemma discovered, was twenty pounds of adorable West Highland terrier, and mostly a bundle of white fur.
“I brought you truffles to sample,” Gemma announced as she made herself comfortable in the living room.
“I’ll make us a stout cup of English tea to go with the treats.”
“I’ll do it,” Gemma offered, getting to her feet.
“Aren’t you the sweet one today? Something else on your mind?”
Together they made their way into the kitchen where the room had a cozier feel.
Gemma started the kettle while Paloma readied the tea, digging the loose leaves out of a canister on the counter. She waited a beat before getting to the real reason she’d dropped by. “To answer your question, I do have an ulterior motive. Why didn’t you tell me my grandmother was a psychic? According to Vincent Ballard the entire town seems to have been in on the secret except me.”
Paloma stuck out her chin, refusing to feel like a chastised seven-year-old for not disclosing the very thing her friend had tried to keep from her granddaughter. “Marissa had her reasons for keeping it to herself.”
“Paloma, that’s not an answer. Did she read Tarot cards or palms or tell fortunes?”
“Nothing like that. Although she probably could have. Marissa made sure it wasn’t common knowledge in the family for one simple reason. She never wanted to bring embarrassment to you or to Genevieve. You had a career working at a high-powered law firm. Genevieve had her high-class gallery where she catered to a bunch of hoity-toity clients. Marissa thought the knowledge might hurt her daughter’s commissions and might reflect badly on you and your clients.”
“I’m not sure I buy that explanation either. A little psychic whimsy thrown in to the mix might’ve helped my mother sell a few of her more boring, uglier paintings. As for me, my clients were usually fighting off so many scandals every day they didn’t have time to notice news about anyone else. And if they had found out, my popularity might’ve soared. Quirky means you don’t have to hide things these days. Although I can’t imagine Robert Channing agreeing with me on that last part.”
“You really don’t have a very high opinion of your mother, do you? Or your father.”
“Don’t get me started. Robert’s not my father. He adopted me, yes, but he’s not my birth father. And he was only married to Genevieve for barely three years, during which time they visited me on Christmas. A once a year visit is hardly enough time to get used to calling him daddy. And why should my opinion of Genevieve be anything but what it is? You seemed to forget she left me here to go to San Francisco when I was just a baby, left me with Gram so Gram could raise me until she found a rich husband. Enter Robert Channing, the man who adopted me when I was four. Or was it five?”
Gemma paced back and forth, working up a head of steam. “But after she marries Robert does she take me with her to live in the house on Nob Hill with them? No, she does not. Not Genevieve. She leaves me here with Gram, yet again, to go to school. Her excuse at the time was simple. I was much better off not cha
nging schools. My mother doesn’t really enter my life again until I start dating Lando, a Native American, whom she feels has absolutely zero potential.”
Paloma’s wrinkled face broke out into a smile. “And now he’s our vaulted police chief.”
“There you go, a solid example of how Genevieve was no judge of character. But her objection to Lando was at the core of everything that happened next. It started a domino effect. She tried to become a mother by convincing me I should break it off. My teenage mindset was to defy her. Months go by and Lando asks me to marry him. She goes nuts and demands I break up with him, even forbidding me to go through with the marriage.”
“We know how that went,” Paloma said with a wink.
“Right you are. Lando and I snuck off for one of those cheesy weddings in Las Vegas. I’d barely turned eighteen. And then when things started to turn sour, when things got tough between us---as they often do when kids get married---I let her talk me into going back with her to the Bay Area and sending Lando divorce papers from a distance.”
“Something I’m sure you’ve regretted over the years.”
“You have no idea. But after that, after she got her way, things got super bad between us. We fought just like we always had. I was stuck there. I certainly couldn’t come crawling back to Lando. I had to stick it out and turn things around. The only problem was I couldn’t right the ship. I’d walked out on the only man I’d ever truly loved because I was stupid. It didn’t matter that I was young. To this day, I resent the fact that my mother holds that one event over my head and has for a decade. Worst of all, I’ve let her. I’ve allowed it to happen. She relishes in the notion that she broke up my marriage. And the sad thing is I remember being eighteen and so desperate for her attention that I let her push me around.”
“You stuck to your guns part of that time until you turned nineteen.”
“Yeah, and then I folded like a cheap suit. That isn’t much comfort. Once I got to San Francisco I let her talk me into applying for college, the college she picked out. Three years at UC Davis wasn’t good enough. Nope. She still wouldn’t shut up until she pushed me into law school and again I allowed her to manipulate the situation. I hated every minute I spent there. Then after I passed the bar, she bullied Robert into giving me a job. Guilted him, I suppose. By that time, I was too stubborn to admit I’d made a long list of mistakes listening to her…year after year. That’s the pitiful truth of my relationship with my mother.”
Mystic Falls (A Coyote Wells Mystery Book 1) Page 6
