The Emerald Hills Collection

by Judith Post

  "For a cat?" Guthrie frowned. When he had to, he could look intimidating. He was on the tall side, broad shoulders, strong build, even if age did soften the edges a little.

  "Why not?" she said. "If you can share kids, why not a cat?"

  He scratched his head. "You sound like you've been there, done that."

  "I was the wicked stepmother for eight years. Married a man with a ten-year-old son. The kid got better with age. The man didn't."

  Guthrie thought about the many people he'd known in Emerald Hills over the years. "There are marriages like that. They come with a five-year warranty and finally the bad outweighs the good."

  Jeannie reached for the cat, hugged him to her. Cheese Nip seemed to understand her need. His purr resonated between them. "Roy got more demanding the longer we were together until I just couldn't give enough to ever satisfy him."

  "The more you gave, the more he wanted?" Guthrie had seen that before. He thought of Tucker Neston and his wife, Mae. Somewhere along the line, Mae should have told him to stick his head in a toilet and flush. Maybe it would have changed their pattern, but she never stood up to him, and now, she ironed his sheets, his underwear, jumped when he said jump, and Guthrie could watch her fade until someday, he figured she'd be transparent—no part of her personality left, only Tucker's reflection.

  Jeannie sighed. "I wouldn't have stuck with him as long as I did except I loved the boy, and Jess needed me. Roy was always picking at him, too. I stayed until Jess graduated from high school. Even then, I got an apartment in town, so that I could run my shop and Jess could stop in after work if he wanted to. I didn't sell out and move here until Jess got a place of his own."

  Guthrie had to give her credit. "You stayed for a kid who wasn't yours?"

  "He is mine. His mother didn't take him when she left. He expected people to abandon him. I had to teach him that he was a keeper, worth fighting for."

  "Wasn't it risky? Selling your business to start over here?"

  Jeannie shook her head. "We lived and worked in Madison, on the river, not that far from here. Another tourist town. People came from all over to buy my hats. Emerald Hills is probably a better location for most of them."

  Guthrie had spent a long weekend in Madison, Indiana—full of history and atmosphere. He'd visited a lot of the shops, not that he ever stepped foot in a lady's hat boutique. Emerald Hills had a similar feel and just as many tourists.

  His gaze slid to Cheese Nip. The orange tabby didn't know how lucky he'd gotten. Jeannie was no quitter. "You raised a boy, and now you've taken in a stray."

  Jeannie pursed her lips and looked thoughtfully at the tangerine cat. "I'm not sure if I took him in, or if he chose me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm not sure who's rescuing whom," Jeannie said.

  Guthrie scraped his hands over his face. She was getting philosophical when he was firing on too little sleep. "You're getting a little deep for me. I'm too tired to go there."

  She smiled, dismissing her thoughts with a shrug. "Go home. Get some sleep. And enjoy your days off."

  He nodded and turned to head down the stairs. This time, Cheese Nip stayed with Jeannie.

  Guthrie locked the doors behind him on his way to his apartment, went straight to his unmade bed, undressed, and fell into it.

  * * *

  January proved to be a nice, slow month—more snow than usual, so less tourists on weekends. Shop owners were used to it. They spent their days in hibernation, making more inventory for their shelves, putting fresh paint on walls—readying for the heavy business days of warm weather.

  Guthrie drove past Tana's Sweet Shoppe on one of his daily security treks through town. For the first time, Tana had locked her doors the weekend after Christmas and left Emerald Hills. She was spending January and February in Brazil with Nate. They wouldn't return until March—plenty of time for Tana to ready her shop and for Nate to write and edit before he started teaching photojournalism classes at the college.

  Guthrie looked in Gino's shoe shop as he passed it. A fair amount of customers browsed inside, probably attracted by the boot sale now in progress. On Friday and Saturday, while Gino sold Italian-made shoes, Evelyn took their Bridey to her dance studio in the city, returning on Sunday. Guthrie slowed when he saw Sheri, Emerald Hills' high school music teacher, leaving Rachel and Isak's bakery. Morgan was parked at the curb, waiting for her. A nice couple. Music was their life. Guthrie returned to the station and settled into his routine. Life was on track in Emerald Hills.

  He worked night shift on Valentine's Day, so that Mike could celebrate it with his wife. Rotten weather for Cupid's frolics—snow and sleet, plenty of fender benders and a semi overturned on the highway, but no casualties. He felt relief when the sun shone on Monday morning, his day off. When he blinked awake, Cheese Nip stretched and yawned beside him. The cat had begun sleeping a few nights with Jeannie at her place, then scratching at Guthrie's door to stay with him a while. Guthrie had been dubious about shared custody of the cat, but it seemed to be working for everyone, especially Cheese Nip.

  This morning, Guthrie took his time over coffee and the newspaper before he got ready to run errands that he'd gotten behind on. He opened his cupboards to grab a quick bowl of cereal before he left the apartment, but every box was nearly empty. He ended up pouring the remains of mini-wheats, peanut butter-flavored somethings, and rice puffs together in a bowl. He had a sparse inch of milk to cover them. Time for the grocery store.

  When he was ready to go, he picked up Cheese Nip and carted him to Jeannie's door. A gray sedan was parked next to Jeannie's SUV. A young man opened her door. When he saw Guthrie, he jammed his hands deep into his jeans pockets, turned, and raced up the stairs. Guthrie followed at a slower pace.

  Jeannie greeted him at her apartment. The fine lines etched in her forehead looked deeper. Her step was less bouncy than usual.

  Guthrie bent to put the cat down, then turned to the young man. A nice looking kid. Longish dark hair, brown eyes. He hunched his shoulders and watched Guthrie nervously.

  Guthrie tried a smile to put him at ease. "You must be Jess. I've heard a lot about you."

  Jess winced. He held his ground, but it took effort, Guthrie could tell.

  Jeannie motioned Guthrie to the kitchen table and plopped down opposite him. "Jess got here last night. He's in trouble. He thinks you're here to arrest him."

  "Jeannie!" Jess looked like he might bolt.

  "Guthrie's a friend," Jeannie told him.

  Guthrie frowned. "I'm in civilian clothes. How does he know I'm a sheriff?"

  Jeannie raised an eyebrow. "Your car's parked by your door."

  Oh, that. "Your step-mom and I have shared many a meal." Guthrie didn't know what was going on, but he might as well ease into it. He sure as hell didn't want to cuff Jeannie's stepson.

  "Guthrie's helped me paint and spruce up the shop," Jeannie added. "Like I said, he's a friend. He might have some ideas."

  The boy looked panic-stricken. "Never mind. I shouldn't have come here. This isn't your problem."

  "Yes, it is." Her voice surprised both of them. Guthrie had never heard that edge of steel before. "What are you going to do? Run? How far do you think you'll get?"

  She placed both hands on the table top and locked her fingers together. "Jess went to a party on Saturday night. He drank too much and fell asleep on his friend's couch."

  "We'd planned it that way." Jess looked at the door, obviously tempted. "I never drink and drive."

  Jeannie continued her story. "Police pounded on the door and woke him up. His car was seen at a hit-and-run. The woman will survive, but she's in the hospital with multiple injuries."

  Guthrie inhaled a slow breath. Not a good start for a story. "Did his friend provide an alibi, so that the cops can rule out Jess?"

  Jeannie grimaced. "The friend was upstairs with his girlfriend, both of them out to the world. Neither of them would have heard someone leave the house or return."
<
br />   "What about Jess' car? Where did the cops find it?"

  "In the friend's driveway where Jess had parked it."

  "So it was a car that looked like his?" Guthrie asked.

  Jess sagged onto a chair, too. The glance he threw at Guthrie was a plea for help. "The front bumper was caved in, and blood was splattered on the grille. They found more blood when they looked."

  "Was the victim conscious enough to describe your car?" Hit-and-runs were bad enough, but the less serious the injuries, the better.

  Jess shook his head. "An anonymous caller reported the incident and gave the cops my license plate."

  Guthrie automatically reached for his shirt pocket where he usually kept his pad and pen. Not there. He was off-duty. "Do you remember anything about that night?"

  Jess ran his hand through his dark hair. "I didn't drink that much, but I was really tired. I must have gotten up sometime and stumbled into the kitchen to take some aspirin. The cops found them spilled on the countertop and a half-empty glass of water on the floor by the couch."

  "Anything else?" Guthrie asked.

  Jess pressed his lips together and shook his head. He rubbed his forehead. "Could I have gotten up in the middle of the night and driven around town and not remember any of it?"

  "It's happened." Too much liquor, and brains could go blank, but Guthrie doubted Jess could drive if he was in that bad of shape. It didn't even sound like the boy had drunk enough to black-out. He glanced at Jeannie's pale complexion and bleak eyes and pressed on. "How many people were at this party? And when did you hit the couch? Was the party still going strong?"

  Jess nodded. "I'd worked all day. I made it to midnight okay. By two, I was struggling to stay awake. They were all in the kitchen, playing beer pong. I went out to sit on the sofa a minute, and I must have fallen asleep."

  "Where were your car keys?"

  "I left them on the kitchen counter."

  Guthrie let out a breath. Now they were getting somewhere. "Anyone could have taken your keys and gone on a joy ride for a while."

  Jeannie's gaze met his. "The cops seem hell-bent on proving Jess did it."

  Guthrie shrugged. "That's part of the job. When you interrogate a person, you try to break him. Not many peoples' consciences make them confess."

  Jeannie went to the countertop to pour herself another cup of coffee. Cheese Nip stayed close on her heels, sensing her turmoil. She poured Guthrie a cup, too, out of habit and carried it to him. "Is there something we should do? Should we hire a lawyer? A private detective?"

  Guthrie sipped his coffee, hesitating before he answered. If it were him in Jeannie's place, what would he do? Finally, he said, "You have me. Let me make a few calls. The police are going over the car, right?"

  Jess nodded. "I had to rent a car to drive here."

  That made Guthrie pause. "Were you allowed to leave town?"

  Jess looked away, not meeting his gaze.

  "Well?" Jeannie asked.

  "It wasn't an order. It sounded more like a suggestion."

  "Jess!" She hugged her arms across her chest.

  "I went to Dad," he said. "I told him what happened. Dad said I'm a man now. I should handle my own problems."

  Guthrie clenched his hands. "Anyone needs help in a time like this, old or young." It sounded like the dad didn't want to be bothered.

  Jess glanced at Jeannie, she gave a small nod, and he said, "Dad has a new girlfriend, half his age. She's all he thinks about."

  Guthrie shook his head. How had Jeannie ended up with a guy like Roy? "Let me call the detective in charge of the case. I'll see what I can find out." Maybe they'd get lucky and find fingerprints, but Guthrie doubted it. Fear was a pretty primal emotion, and it could make a person's survival instincts kick into gear. Even if the perp was drunk, if he could "borrow" a car and drive, he'd think clearly enough to wipe down the steering wheel and car handles to keep himself out of trouble.

  "If you call, they'll know I'm here." Jess shifted in his chair, ready to make a break for the door.

  "Not necessarily." Guthrie glanced at Jeannie. "Any kid would call his mom when he's in trouble. We're neighbors, friends. She got your call, was worried sick, and came to me for ideas."

  "Thank you." Jeannie reached across the table and took his hand.

  Guthrie swallowed a knot in his throat. "Give me all the information you have, and I'll go to my place to make the call. I'll come back when I know something."

  Jess looked nervous. "Why your place? Why not here? You're going to turn me in, aren't you?"

  Guthrie sighed. "If I wanted you in custody, I'd arrest you myself. But I need to concentrate, with no distractions, and I do that better when I'm alone."

  The air went out of Jess. "I get it. I'm sorry."

  "No problem." The kid had to be a nervous wreck by now. "Hang in there. I'll be back as soon as I finish my calls."

  The cat started to follow him, but Guthrie frowned. "Jeannie and the kid need you more."

  Cheese Nip turned and padded back to Jess. He let Jess pick him up and hold him close.

  Guthrie made a mental note to buy something special for the fur ball, maybe a can of salmon instead of tuna. That cat was a keeper. When he settled in his apartment, he called the detective's number on the business card Jess gave him.

  Ferguson listened to Guthrie's story and said, "I know Jeannie and Jess, like them both. That boy's always struck me as a good kid. This is a weird case. Something feels off about it, you know?"

  "Jess told Jeannie that an anonymous caller reported the accident."

  Ferguson hesitated before answering. "We live in a small town. We don't get anonymous calls…until now."

  "Male or female?"

  "A woman, sounded younger."

  Guthrie fell into police-speak. "Jess told Jeannie that he fell asleep at two in the morning while the party was still going strong. It's possible he woke up and took off in his car, but he didn't pass out on the couch. He was coherent when he fell asleep."

  "Same thing I thought." Ferguson was quiet a minute. "If Jess should call Jeannie again or get in touch with her, ask him if anyone else had a key to his car. And if he happens to show up on Jeannie's doorstep, tell him to stay put and give me some time to follow up on some leads here."

  There was something in the tone of Ferguson's voice. He suspected that Jess was in Jeannie's apartment right now. Guthrie was beginning to like this guy. "I'll pass the information on to Jeannie."

  "And tell her hi from me and the missus."

  "Will do."

  Before Guthrie could hang up, Ferguson added, "The minute you find out about the keys, give me a call." He added, "Have Jeannie call Jess to find out."

  Okay, Ferguson didn't suspect. He was almost positive. He added that last line so that Guthrie wouldn't have to stall or explain how he got the information so quickly. "I'll get back to you as fast as I can."

  "Good, and be sure to tell Jess to stay put. I'm not looking for him right now. I'm just working the case."

  "And if you hit all dead-ends?"

  "I'll call you, but Jess won't do himself any favors by running."

  Guthrie climbed the stairs to Jeannie's apartment again and reported on his conversation with Ferguson.

  Jess frowned. "The only person I gave a spare key to was Dad. That way, if I locked my keys in the car somehow, he could help me."

  "Where does your dad keep the spare?"

  "In the tea canister in his kitchen."

  Guthrie nodded. Not too many people would look there. But still…he'd always believed in ruling out everything he could. When he called Ferguson back, he told him about the spare.

  Jeannie looked wiped out. Guthrie doubted she'd gotten much sleep last night. "You both look like you could use a long nap. Why don't you grab some shut eye and then come to my place for supper tonight? I have to go to the store anyway. I'm out of everything. What if I throw three steaks in cast-iron skillets, buy a bag of salad, and call it a meal?"
>
  "Are you sure?" He'd never invited Jeannie for supper before, Guthrie realized. But then, he never invited anyone.

  "My apartment's a place where furniture goes to die," he warned, "but I know how to make a mean steak. Six o'clock?"

  She nodded. "We'll be there."

  Jess looked ready to drop. He sighed. "I don't have any place else to go, and I can't afford to stay in hotels. I'll be there."

  "Good enough. I'll take off and let you sleep, and I'll see you at six tonight."

  Guthrie didn't bother returning to his apartment, but went straight to his squad car and headed to the grocery store. It had a butcher's counter, and he bought three, thick ribeyes.

  Then he wandered up and down aisles, stopping so often to talk to residents, that it took him an hour and a half before he left the store. Time well spent. He'd learned that Lucy Farmer had moved her mom into the nursing center at Emerald Hills and sold her mom's house in Kentucky. Lindsay, who owned the winery on the far side of town, was expanding her vineyard and was looking for help, with no luck. And Edna Stiltsen was planning on retiring from her job as postmistress this spring. She was training her granddaughter, Maddie, to take her place.

  Guthrie liked keeping tabs on the pulse of Emerald Hills. He made two more stops on his way home. The church women hadn't seen him for a while. He got nabbed at the hardware store and at Rachel and Isak's bakery. By the time he got back to his apartment and started carrying groceries inside, Cheese Nip sauntered across the parking lot to help him.

  Guthrie used his sternest voice. "I thought you were staying with Jeannie and Jess."

  The cat meowed. It glanced at the dark windows of Jeannie's apartment.

  Guthrie nodded. "They fell asleep on you during the day, didn't they? Well, come on then. I got you something special." He and the cat padded up and down the steps until his trunk was empty. Then Guthrie opened the can of salmon and gave Cheese Nip two large scoops.

  Purrs filled the kitchen. The cat ate while Guthrie seasoned his steaks and drizzled them with olive oil. Lucy Farmer had gotten him hooked on olive oil, explaining that her Bill's family had a history of heart disease, and olive oil was healthier than bacon grease or lard. She had a habit of quoting celebrity chefs from the food networks on TV. Guthrie always nodded and listened, because Lucy made the best casseroles in the entire town.