“Let it go, and let’s get going before we miss all the fun.” Chloe practically pulled them out the door and into the car.
* * *
Ten minutes later, singing a Cyndi Lauper song loudly and off key with her friends, Chloe pulled into the neon-splashed parking lot of the Barnyard, a favorite Gilmore hangout, and they all piled out of her battered Mini Cooper. The place was aptly named. Once a falling down wreck, the nearly hundred-year-old barn had been rehabilitated and turned into an entertainment center for adults who wanted to act like children—which meant the place was always busy and always a good time.
A circular bar occupied the center of the enormous barn, surrounded by high-top tables and mismatched bar stools. The front right corner of the room held a vintage arcade, and the other corner boasted several pool tables and dart boards, a few booths, and a number of flat screen TVs playing everything from sports to old movies and 80s MTV videos.
The entire back of the barn was reserved for dancing, live music, and karaoke. Mismatched tile formed a patchwork patterned dance floor and helped maintain the comfortable, homey vibe that encouraged customers to stay late and drink. Photo booths scattered throughout the bar streamed pictures onto a big screen mounted above the dance floor so that everyone could see just how silly you were acting behind the curtains.
After carefully surveying the room, Chloe, Veronica, and Mindy headed for an unoccupied booth in the pool and dart room, which also just happened to be filled with a variety of attractive male specimens. While Chloe was the only one who could reap those particular benefits, Veronica and Mindy never turned down a chance to objectify the opposite sex. They were both on the prowl to find a date for their friend and began pointing out possibilities before ordering the first round of drinks.
“Cowboy Boots over there would definitely do in a pinch.” Mindy nodded toward a man in tight-fitting jeans and a flannel shirt while absently accepting a vodka soda with lime from their waitress.
“Eh, not really my thing. I’m more a t-shirt and flip-flops kind of girl. Preferably a tight t-shirt bursting with arm muscles, but cowboy boots just always look a little girly to me.”
“What about Socks & Sandals by the dart board in the corner?” Veronica asked with a sly grin. “What situation do you suppose he’s preparing for where he needs both?”
Chloe looked around at the men in the room, trying to imagine herself approaching someone with the intent of making a romantic connection. It had been quite a while since her last relationship; traveling had taken its toll, and she had never been one for long term commitments.
Most men were intimidated by her independence, and allowing work to rule her life had left little room for anyone or anything else. She had been on one or two dates since returning to Ponderosa Pines, but had learned rather quickly that privacy in this town was harder to come by than a three-dollar bill.
Just because she hadn’t liked when Rosalina Emmons’s son had taken her to a “nice dinner” at the Snack Shack, or that all Shane Davis wanted to talk about was the pot plants he was trying to grow in the field behind the cow pasture didn’t mean she was a snob who was too good for everyone in town.
Enough had been enough when she’dd heard someone she barely knew discussing the awkward kiss the latter had tried to land on her at the end of the night. Nope, she would no longer be accepting dates with anyone who lived in the Pines. Unfortunately, since she rarely left the little hamlet anymore, her chances of meeting anyone had diminished to the point where she had decided there was a chance she would wind up an old lady with 57 cats.
“Hey, isn’t that Talia Plunkett over there dancing like it’s 1999?” Mindy openly pointed at the wife of the man Chloe and EV unaffectionately referred to as Douchebag #2. Luther didn’t deserve the title of number one; he lacked the faculties necessary to be taken seriously in any capacity.
Veronica, ignoring the fact that the woman was clearly drunk and attempting to perform a sexy number that was coming off more like the chicken dance, zeroed in on what she considered most important about the scene: fashion. “I know Luther jacks prices a bit, but do you suppose he really has enough money for her to be spending hundreds of dollars on a scarf? That’s vintage Pucci, if I’m not mistaken. It must have cost a pretty penny.”
Raising five kids left little cash for luxuries like expensive accessories, but Veronica was still a fiend. She bargain-shopped and mixed vintage finds with cheap knockoffs, always managing to look chic and original. Trusting that Veronica knew her Pucci, Chloe filed the comment away in the back of her mind for later contemplation.
“Time for a trip to the Ladies, ladies. Anyone need a touch up?” Mindy led them on a winding path toward the restrooms and through saloon doors labeled “Cowgirls.”
The line stretched almost back to the door, and Chloe kept one ear perked for gossip; she couldn’t allow any prime opportunity for column fodder to go unchecked no matter how much she had wanted a night away. If a Pines resident was mentioned within earshot, Chloe was going to do her best to accidentally overhear anything that might prove useful.
Snaking around the corner and into a section of restroom lined with three stalls, Chloe and her friends overheard a familiar name as the two women occupying the stalls carried on what they couldn’t have possibly thought was a private conversation. Jackpot.
“Evan, that guy who ran for mayor. asked me out, telling me he was ‘setting himself up to be the most powerful man in Gilmore' and that I should ‘hop on board the Evan train while I had the chance.’” Chloe rolled her eyes at the last comment, while Mindy stifled a hysterical giggle.
“Well, I heard he’s got a clandestine affair going on with a married woman over in Ponderosa Pines. He’ll never get into office with a scandal like that going around.”
As the three women stepped out of their respective stalls almost simultaneously, Chloe and her friends shot each other looks of amusement and quietly took their places inside, hoping to hear the next part of the conversation. At that moment, the DJ’s booming voice rose above the music and whisked away whatever words were spoken.
Interesting, thought Chloe. Very interesting.
Chapter Four
Parked in front of the church where Luther was supposed to be working, Evan’s stomach clenched, then tossed up a wash of acid when he saw the now-familiar handwriting scrawled across an envelope in the pile of mail he’d tossed onto his passenger seat earlier. Whoever had his nuts in the wringer must be fully connected because it had only been two days since the town meeting, and it took at least a day to get mail here from Gilmore.
He’d failed; Evan knew that as he raked a hand through his hair until it stood uncharacteristically on end. He’d figured EV would kick up a ruckus, which was why he had tried to work around her by setting up a meeting with the selectmen first. When they hadn’t gone for the plan, he saw no other choice than to lay it out at the quarterly meeting.
He should have known that nothing much went on in Ponderosa Pines without her knowledge. Knocking her down a peg or two while she watched some of her iron-fisted control slip away was nearly as big a draw as getting out of the tight spot he was in.
Being blackmailed into convincing the townspeople of Ponderosa Pines to throw in and combine their town with neighboring Gilmore had not seemed like much of a hardship since it dovetailed nicely with his deepest desire: to launch a political career by becoming mayor. Total win-win, really. His mind spun out the fantasy—Ponderosa Pines citizens would jump on the opportunity to be annexed by the larger town. Then, in order to maintain some feeling of control, they would wield their voting power to slap his butt in the mayor’s office where he could finally take Miss Holier Than Thou Torrence off her high horse and, as an added bonus, make the blackmail go away.
He knew EV thought he was all about the money, but she was wrong. He had plans for Ponderosa Pines. Once he was in a position of authority and had the blackmailer off his back, he could work toward opening up the middle of t
own, let in a smaller chain store or two, take some of the tax burden off the community, and provide jobs.
Before it was all over, he’d be considered a genius, a benevolent benefactor even. They’d erect a statue of him in the center of town. He’d be the man who saved this godforsaken hole of a planned community from itself.
Evan was still basking in that daydream when his brother pulled up behind him.
Luther slammed the pickup door, annoyance evident in the way he moved. “I was out with my wife. What’s so all-fired important that you needed me to get to the church tonight?”
“I thought you were going to be working. You’re going to finish here by tomorrow, right?”
“Probably not. I’d need two guys to help, but I got all the workers over in Emerson digging holes to pour footings for that addition. Can’t ask them to work all day and all night, too.”
Luther hefted a small stack of trim molding over one shoulder, nearly slapping his brother in the head with it as he turned to go back inside.
Clamping down on the urge to punch his own sibling, Evan merely pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers to relieve the tension headache that threatened to settle there.
“It’s not a paying job; I gotta keep my guys on the paying work or I don’t make no money.” The whine in Luther’s tone grated on Evan’s nerves.
“Then do it yourself. Just get it done by end of day tomorrow. I got another blackmail letter today, and I need as many chips as I can cash in with the board before the referendum meeting in a few days. This needs to go in my favor or I’m toast. With that witch against me, I’m screwed unless I can line up the selectmen on my side. And that’s never going to happen unless you do your part.”
Luthor shook his head and blew out a breath. “I still think you should just talk to her. EV’s not as bad as you think. You used to like her. “
“Yeah, well, things change.” Evan poked him in the shoulder. “Now tell me you’re going to finish up here by tomorrow.” It was an order.
“Only way that’s going to happen is if I work all night.”
“If that’s what it takes…” Evan broke off when he heard the footsteps and voices of a couple out for an evening stroll. He continued once they were out of range again.
“He’s got me by the short hairs. Do you need me to lay it out for you?” Luther left off the again, but it was implied in his condescending tone. His brother might be good at fibbing his way into jobs, but there was no doubt which one of them had gotten the brains in the family. Luther liked to say that his customer-service skills were top-notch and that it was because he knew how to talk to potential clients, that he was articular. Every time he said it, it set Evan’s teeth on edge.
What an idiot.
Getting him on board had been easy enough; all it had taken was a promise to loosen up on the building codes that forced Luther to use certain materials—materials that he could not mark up to make more money. It was the first step in getting rid of the alternative building requirements. Then there had been the promise of more work.
Flipping his brother a piece of the commercial pie was not as much a given as Evan had led Luther to believe. There was no way he was up to the challenge of actually being a contractor on any scale, especially at the level required for what Evan had in mind. The smaller projects that he was barely qualified for would keep him busy for a couple years; and, right now, Evan needed him to be a vocal proponent for incorporating the two towns together.
What Luther also didn’t know was that Evan didn’t give a tiny rat’s tuckus whether he helped his brother or not. Getting into office was his main focus. Increasing commercialism was just one of his plans—and not even the one most likely to further his ambitions.
A career in real estate, even a lucrative one, paled in comparison to his true life’s ambition of becoming a politician. It should be an easy progression from small town mayor to becoming a member of the House of Representatives and from there, to Senate or Congress.
Previously a resident of Gilmore, he had already run for mayor there each of the past three years and been summarily shut down by receiving less than one third of the vote. Not surprising, since most of the residents thought Ponderosa Pines was an embarrassment. A community of aging hippies and their equally tripped-out children couldn’t hope to have produced a worthy mayoral candidate.
The fact that other than their commitment to green living, Ponderosa Pines was very like any other town went ignored. Once a commune, always a commune—at least in the eyes of their neighbors. Unless they were able to successfully annex Ponderosa Pines and absorb it into Gilmore. Then, the added tax dollars would go a long way toward offsetting any lingering embarrassment.
Once on board with the plan, the powers that be in Gilmore all assumed the residents of Ponderosa Pines would be thankful to be taken under the wing of such a successful town. They had no idea that the scorn with which they viewed what they considered to be the less fortunate was returned twofold by people who valued independence and diversity.
The fact that EV had an in with the town elders—hell, she was practically one of them herself—and was unafraid to speak her mind about how she thought things should be done hadn’t helped either. That woman was a loud-mouthed nuisance, and the fact that she and Evan’s mother had been friends back in the day meant she knew every stupid childhood deed he’d ever committed.
Every time she cast one of her sour looks his way, he knew she must still see him as a capricious boy. The notion that he desired her respect above all others was one that would have surprised him no end if he had ever had the self-awareness to understand or accept it.
A rustle in the bushes outside the church caught Evan’s attention as he stepped through the door. He stopped to listen for a full minute, but there was not another sound. Stray cat, most likely. Even if he had felt the two pairs of eyes that were now locked on him, his courage was not up to combing the bushes so, with an uneasy feeling, he got back into his car and zoomed away.
Chapter Five
Chloe opened one eye and immediately closed it again as a thousand fireworks exploded inside her head. Her stomach curled into a fetal position and locked itself into a sailor’s Alpine Butterfly knot. A loud banging that Chloe had mistaken for blood pumping through her temples was punctuated by a tinkling she recognized as the wind chime next to the front door.
Even before she heard the key turn in the lock and the door open, Chloe knew it must be EV. What she couldn’t understand was why EV would be visiting so very early, especially after the last time she had dared disturb her friend at what Chloe considered an inappropriate hour.
For that, EV must pay.
Cracking one eyelid, she turned toward her nightstand and realized it wasn't the crack of dawn after all.
Whatever it is, it can wait, Chloe thought to herself while pulling a silky, monogrammed sleep mask over her eyes. The script aptly read “I’d rather be sleeping,” and Chloe couldn’t remember having ever agreed with the sentiment more than she did right then. She could just make out the sound of some bustling around downstairs and a tinkling of metal on glass, but chose to ignore it and instead concentrate on stopping her head from spinning.
“Morning, Miss Sleepy Pants, did you have a fun night out?” EV asked in an ear-splitting sing-song voice as she barged into Chloe’s room and set a breakfast tray down on the edge of the rumpled bed.
Receiving only a grunt in response, EV tugged on the thin embroidered quilt that was covering all but Chloe’s head. “I made you something to help you feel better. It’s an old Torrence-family hangover cure, and it works like a charm. I gave the recipe to Maggie Mullen a good ten years ago, and you can barely tell she gets hammered at least five out of seven nights a week. Come to think of it, maybe I should have kept it to myself instead of becoming an enabler.”
Realizing she wasn’t going to be able to shake her friend until she at least sampled the magic elixir, Chloe pushed the sleep mask onto her foreh
ead and propped herself up against the headboard. Relentless, as always, Chloe mused while EV went around the room closing blinds, then turned on a small lamp in the corner.
Chloe sipped the concoction that, as far as she could tell, contained orange juice, ginger, and a good dollop of hot sauce. Within just a few minutes, the color began to return to her face and the room stopped spinning like a top.
“Everything was fine until Veronica started buying tequila shots for everyone,” she said, still squinting a little against the light. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“It always does, until you’re praying to the porcelain god the next morning.”
“At least we had the wherewithal to take a cab home. I know why you’re here, by the way, and I know it’s not just to nurse me back to health—although I do appreciate it. Of course I kept my eyes and ears open, at least until the end of the night. You want to know about what I happened to spy with my little eye, don’t you?”
“Why I never,” EV retorted in a fairly believable southern accent.
“I’m 100 percent convinced that the Ericksons are having a baby. They were playing some pretty hardcore darts and looked like they were enjoying themselves, but she was sipping water and I noticed him place his hand on her stomach in a fatherly way.”
“They seem like a cute young couple, and it’s not as though there’s an excess of kids running around here save for your friend Veronica’s brood. Good for them. But that was an easy one, and not exactly of the juiciest variety. What else you got?”
“Talia Plunkett was pretty drunk and should definitely never try for a dancing career. Luther was with her, and for all the world, I can’t figure out how the two of them wound up together.”
AV huffed. “You and half the town. Lottie practically had an apoplectic fit when they announced their engagement. Serious case of sour grapes is the general opinion about town, but I think it’s more that Lottie thought her sister could do better.”
Cat Killed A Rat Page 3
