Crafts, Crimes, and Country Clubs
Page 1
Crafts, Crimes, and Country Clubs
A Craft Circle Cozy Mystery
Stacey Alabaster
Fairfield Publishing
Copyright © 2018 Fairfield Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Thank You!
1
A cozy car ride with snow falling around us. A cute guy in the driver's seat next to me. A romantic getaway looming. What more could a gal ask for?
So, why was my mind drifting back to home?
Ryan, a police officer a little my junior—what's thirteen years, give or take, anyway—put his detective skills to good use. He knew something was up. All it took was a glance in my direction. "I know you are missing him," he said, but he laughed gently. However, there was a hint of jealousy in his eyes. With good reason. Ryan was always going to have to share me with my other love. "Is there anything I can do to take your mind off it?"
I gulped. I'd been found out. Here I was, en route to a romantic getaway with my new love, in a fresh relationship, and there were thoughts of another male in my head
"There's nothing on my mind."
"You were thinking about him."
"Just temporarily," I said to Ryan, wanting to reassure him. I sat up straight and gave him a bright grin as the white snow raced past us. "I was just running over the logistics of things in my head. Making sure he has enough treats for the next few days, enough dry food as well as wet."
Ryan was more than understanding. "I know you've never been away from him for more than a night. It's difficult."
Jasper was probably fine. My ex-husband, Adam, was the 'fun parent' and he would let Jasper run wild for the weekend, chasing rabbits and eating steaks for dinner instead of his 'healthy weight' dog food. Well, we were calling it the 'weekend,' even though it was already Sunday and we were planning on getting back to Pottsville on Wednesday. Ryan's schedule at the station had been crazy and this was the first 'weekend' he’d had in weeks, so we were going to make the most of if. Skiing, champagne, a fancy resort—truly living the high life.
It was just a shame that Jasper couldn't have come on vacation with us, he would have loved to play in the snow, but the luxury resort didn't allow dogs. I probably would have picked a cabin in the woods, but Ryan had paid for the room as a surprise. I could hardly turn down three nights in a luxury ski resort, could I?
So I just had to deal with my separation anxiety. Easy. Especially when I had something else to take up my thoughts—like the fact that I was sitting next to a very handsome young police officer. I had a feeling that this weekend we would make it official—after months of almost dating and misunderstandings, we were ready to be a real couple.
"You have my complete focus," I told him, and I settled back to enjoy the ride. The snow was so bright, I had to wear shades.
"The roads can get a little winding," Ryan warned me on the forty-minute drive up to the resort. "Some people get motion sickness."
But I was too happy to get motion sickness. And even if I did, I wouldn't have minded. We were halfway up the mountain and Ryan glanced over to check how I was feeling.
"Wonderful," I said, grinning.
Ryan grinned back at me. "That's my favorite adjective. Wonderful."
Things were wonderful.
We had to make a brief stop for gas and I was shocked by how cold the air was outside compared to the heat of the car as I opened the door.
Ryan was glaring at his phone, which had decided to ring. "I'll turn it off as soon as I take this call," he promised, shaking his head. "I'm surprised I can even get phone reception at this altitude." He gave me a kiss on the cheek and promised to be right back as he paid for the gas.
"It's the boss," Ryan said, putting the phone back in his pocket as he returned to the car and shut the door just a little too firmly. He didn't say anything further, but I knew from the dark look on his face that things had changed. The lightness had gone, and he was on edge. He kept checking the rearview mirror as though there might be someone following us up the mountain.
"Ryan, what was that call about?"
He was driving slowly, like he didn't actually want to ever reach the resort. Finally, he let me know what was bugging him. "I'm supposed to be on-call this weekend," he said, watching the sign that said, "You're entering Hayfield Mountain" appear in front of us.
On-call? That didn't sound like it would give him much of a chance to relax and enjoy the time away. Not much of a weekend. I felt my stomach sink a little. It was like someone had put a pin in the balloon that I had blown up. Things were suddenly a little less wonderful.
"So wait, hold up… Doesn't that mean that you're not really supposed to leave Pottsville?" We were already halfway to the Hayfield Mountain Resort. If there was an emergency, it would take him an hour to get back to town.
"It'll be fine," he said, waving dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I am not going to let anything ruin my weekend away with you, George. I promise you that." He gave me a smile and didn't mention it again, but he was driving slower and slower. "If there's an issue, then Nicholas can just deal with it himself."
Detective Anthony Nicholas had come to town three months earlier, arriving from the beach town of Sandy Point to take over operations at the Pottsville Station, and hadn't exactly made himself popular during his time in Pottsville. He was the kind of humorless stickler for the rules that tended to rub people the wrong way. He was tall, constantly had his brow furrowed, and always came down on people with the full force of the law.
"I just don't know who he thinks he is," Ryan muttered as he gripped the wheel. "He's always on some kind of power trip."
Ryan's phone was resting near the cup holder between us and I could see it flashing and the word "WORK" on the screen. Maybe Ryan could ignore the fact it was ringing, but I told him to pull over and take it. "Please, it will put my mind at rest."
We pulled over on the shoulder of the road and Ryan grabbed it, taking the call outside the car so I couldn't hear the conversation. I waited a little anxiously.
"I just need to go back to the station," he said, sounding far too calm when he returned. "We haven't traveled that far, it won't take too long to go back..." He kissed me on the cheek while I sat there, a little dazed by the change of events. "And then we can get right back on the road."
I supposed he was right. We were only thirty minutes into the trip. In an hour's time, we'd be back to where we were if we left right then. And once it was all taken care of, we'd be able to relax and enjoy the rest of our vacation.
Ryan pulled into the Pottsville station with such vengeance it was like he was pulling up to an emergency or a crime scene. He quickly jumped out of the car, slamming the door and storming into the station after he'd assured me that he'd be right back. "This is just something I have to do in person."
Now that we were back in the valley where Pottsville lay, there wasn't much snow around, but I could still see it on the mountain peaks in the distance. They seemed a long way away now.
I craned my neck to see what was taking Ryan so long. The windows to the station were dark, but I thought I could make out Detective Ant
hony Nicholas pacing. He was a very tall man, towering over Ryan, who was standing, there, very still. There didn't appear to be many other people inside the station, a receptionist and other officer, and there was a young woman making her way nervously through the door like she was about to make a complaint or report a crime. She had brown hair and a coat that she brushed snow off of before walking through the doors.
I jumped when I saw someone coming toward me in the parking lot. It was a tall male, and he looked like he had a bit of stubble around the chin area. In the shadows, it was difficult to make out much more than that.
All I could think was, lucky I am out in front of a police station as I made sure that the doors were all locked.
But as the figure grew nearer, I recognized him and my brief fear turned to embarrassment.
Oh gosh, anyone but him. Maybe staying in the car had been a mistake.
I slunk into the passenger seat, but it was too late. I'd been spotted.
Adam came up and tapped on the glass so I was forced to roll it down, letting the heat out, and I shivered. I supposed it would have been rude to just ignore my ex-husband.
"Hey, George, I thought you had taken off for the weekend." There was a little look of satisfaction on his face, like he had caught me doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing.
I sat up and took off my shades. "Just a little detour," I said with a grin. "Then we'll be right back on the road."
Adam nodded toward the station. "Everything all right in there?"
"Of course," I said. "Ryan is a police officer. There's nothing unusual about him being in there."
Adam spotted the door opening and Ryan storming out of it. Thankfully, he had the good sense to realize that he needed to leave before this got extremely awkward
Ryan's face was dark as he reached the car. At least he hadn't spotted Adam. "It's all taken care of," he said, climbing into the car and starting the ignition as we sped back onto the highway. "I won't be receiving any more calls from him this weekend."
Well, I guessed he wasn't on-call any longer.
"You like champagne?" Ryan asked as he produced a bottle from the mini bar. The room was decked out in white and I felt like I was standing in the middle of a holiday card, with the snow everywhere and my fluffy white coat. I had to giggle a little as I watched him struggle with the cork. I guessed that champagne wasn't his usual drink. Come to think of it, I didn't think I'd ever seen him drink anything except beer.
He managed to fill about a quarter of the flute before it bubbled up and spilled over onto the white carpet.
I cringed a little, but I was laughing. "Eek. I guess it will all be included in the cleaning bill."
"So what do you think of this view?" Ryan asked as we moved over to the window. Hayfield Mountain Resort was a five-star facility with three floors and we were on second. Not quite the premium 'penthouse' room, but it was still very luxurious. I tried not to think about the fact that it must have cost Ryan a fortune for the all-expenses-paid package that included room service, massages, and access to all the slopes and equipment rentals.
"It's beautiful," I gasped, looking at the snow-capped mountains. "How did you find out about this place?" Thoughts about the weird vibe at the police station had been bugging me, but I finally settled. It made sense now. He must have spent a fortune on this weekend. It was completely understandable that he hadn't wanted it to be disturbed by being on-call. And I was glad that he had taken care of matters.
Ryan came up and put his arms around me, and I put all thoughts about Pottsville, ex-husbands, dogs, and bad bosses out of my mind.
The peace wasn't to last for long. Despite what Ryan had told me, his phone just kept ringing and ringing. But he was in willful ignorance, pouring champagne and looking through the tourist brochures as if nothing had happened. "I say we get an early night tonight and hit the slopes right as the sun rises in the morning."
There was a brief lull and then his phone started ringing again. I wasn't sure if he realized that I'd seen the caller, but it said, "Work." He reached for his phone, but instead of answering it, he just put it on silent.
"Shouldn't you get that call?" I asked, a little worried.
Ryan popped open the second bottle of champagne—with a lot more finesse this time—and winked at me. "I told you, I'm no longer on-call. Let one of the other guys deal with it."'
"But what if it’s an emergency?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it always an emergency?" He shoved the phone back in his bag and grinned at me.
Something wasn't right, though. I couldn't stop thinking, if Ryan really made things right and made it clear that he wasn't on-call, why was he getting calls?
What was he trying to hide from me? I kept one eye on his bag and decided to wait for my chance to find out.
As soon as he left the room to go to the bathroom, I reached into his bag and picked up the phone, catching it just before the call went to voice mail.
"Hello?" I whispered, so that Ryan wouldn't overhear me. "This is Ryan's phone."
It was another officer at the station, a young guy with red hair named Matt Gleeson who I had met a couple of times at crime scenes, but didn't know very well. He was even younger than Ryan, only twenty-three, and to be honest, I'd always considered him fairly immature.
"I need to speak to Ryan," Gleeson said, strangely calling him by his first name. The thought that ran through my mind was, This isn't work. This is personal. "It is important." His voice sounded like it was shaking.
"I, uh… He’s busy at the moment," I said, while thinking, Just tell me. I knew there was zero chance of Ryan returning the call, and I'd have to explain to him why I'd answered his phone. "He won't be able to come to the phone for a while," I lied, knowing that Ryan was about to walk out of the bathroom. "I will pass the message on as soon as I see him, I promise."
Matt paused for a moment. But there was only so long he could keep the terrible news to himself. "Detective Anthony Nicholas is dead."
2
"Aren't you shocked?" I asked, wondering how Ryan could remain so cool after hearing this news. I'd broken it as soon as Ryan came out of the bathroom, telling him to sit down first. Seeing as how a close colleague had been killed, I thought it would come as such a shock that he would be lightheaded, but I had received nothing but a blank stare. He hadn't even asked me how it had happened, or where.
He just laced up his boots and stomped the ground. "Not really. That guy made a lot of enemies. He had to leave Sandy Point because of the trouble he got into there, remember?"
I remembered the whole thing well. I'd actually been in Sandy Point around the time that Nicholas was let go from the police force there and forced to transfer to Pottsville after he had been involved in a small-scale cover up. "He wasn't a popular guy," Ryan said again, really trying to drill the point home. "There are a lot of people out there who won't be that sad to hear that he’s gone."
Yes. He made enemies both at his previous job...and down at the Pottsville station, I thought.
Ryan seemed certain that was case closed. But was it really a case of Anthony Nicholas's past just catching up with him?
Ryan grabbed his bag, which he had roughly re-packed, stuffing his clothes back in as well as the re-corked bottle of champagne. "I am sorry this has ruined our getaway, George."
That seemed to be the only thing he was sorry about, though.
I was sorry that it had ruined it as well. And I was sorry that Detective Nicholas was dead. I sat in silence on the drive back to Pottsville, watching the mountains and the snow disappear in the rearview mirror. The buzz of the champagne had long worn off.
"Sorry we’re back here again," Ryan said with annoyance as we pulled back into the parking lot and déjà vu engulfed me. At least it was fully dark this time and there was little chance of Adam wandering around the area at that time of night. Even if he had been taking Jasper for a walk, this was on the other side of town, so there was little chance of him mak
ing the hike in the cold. It would freeze Jasper's little paws off.
Officer Gleeson was out front to welcome Ryan. They exchanged glances and shook hands while I leaned forward to get a better look. The other men and women in the force were slowly returning to the station as well and there was yellow tape cordoning the area off. There were also cops I didn't recognize.
Was I imagining it or were they all a little less sad and a little more gleeful than should be expected? And was that a smile on Matt Gleeson's face?
One thing looked clear—none of them seemed devastated over Nicholas's death.
I was starting to feel uneasy, sitting there in that parking lot. I kept thinking about the last time I had been there, sitting in the same spot as I waited for Ryan.
I could have just gone home. Maybe it would have been the more sensible option. But now that I was back in Pottsville, I didn't want to go home all alone. I needed my boy with me.
I knocked on Adam's door and hoped that he was still awake, or at least, that my knocking would wake him up. The upstairs light popped on and I sighed with relief.
"I'm just here to pick up Jasper and Casper," I said sheepishly when the front door opened.
Adam looked far too satisfied for my liking. Maybe this was a mistake. I was about to turn around when I heard the patter of dog footsteps and Jasper racing toward me, bouncing up and down and greeting me with a warm slobber like I had been gone for weeks rather than just five hours. I laughed and petted him and told him to get down, even though I actually liked getting bathed with the affection. It was comforting after the crazy, cold night I had had.
"So what happened?" Adam said, trying to act like he wasn't that interested. But he was fighting a losing battle with his facial features, which were curling into a smirk. He was all jumpy as well, swaying from side to side, waiting to hear my tale of woe.