Slay in Character

by Lynn Cahoon

  There was an old stone path in the backyard that the original owners had put in, and she followed it to the tree line. Her thoughts were on Jessi. With this last attack, it was becoming clearer that maybe Danielle was just in the wrong place and Jessi was supposed to be the first victim. As she thought of all the secrets surrounding the girl, Cat pushed her way through the hanging branches and ran right into Seth.

  Her hands flew up to his chest to help stop her forward movement and she looked up into his face in surprise. “Hey, I was coming to get you for lunch.”

  He took a leaf out of her hair. “I told you to stay out of the area until Saturday. You don’t listen very well, do you?”

  Cat leaned over and tried to see around him. “I’m here now. What are you working on?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t get to worm your way into seeing.” He spun her around and gently pushed her back onto the tree-lined path. “Let’s go eat lunch.”

  As they walked toward the house, Cat thought about the peak she’d seen around Seth. The barn looked like he’d been working on it. Now she was sure he was going to unveil an uptown workout space. Maybe they would have to add a small hot tub or an indoor pool once the original renovation loan was paid off. Oh, well, she’d find out tomorrow morning. And besides, she had to keep Jessi safe until Sunday. One secret project at a time was all she could deal with. She linked her hand with Seth’s and headed to the house.

  CHAPTER 18

  The retreat guests arrived back at the house precisely at two. Apparently, Jessi had filled them in on the incident with the car because they all looked relieved to have made it the few blocks from Reno’s.

  “A life of intrigue isn’t what it’s cracked up to be in the books we write.” Lisa sank into the bench in the foyer. “I swear, my heart started pounding every time we saw a car.”

  “I thought you were going to dive to safety when that elderly woman inched her baby blue BMW up Warm Springs.” Cora giggled.

  “It looked like she was scoping us out,” Lisa explained to Cat, who’d been reading in the living room. Or trying to read. She’d been actually waiting for them to get back, so she understood Lisa’s anxiety.

  “She was hunched over the wheel and trying to see the road.” Cora sat next to Lisa and patted her arm. “The woman must have been ninety and probably shouldn’t have been driving.”

  “That’s Mrs. Linklater. She bought that BMW new when she lost her husband twenty years ago. She says she’s going to drive it until they take the keys away from her and put her in the Aspen Hills Nursing Home.” Shauna had joined them in the lobby. “I think her kids are scared that if they do, she’ll just give up. Most people around here stay off the roads on Friday between one and three because that’s when she does her weekly shopping.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Cat glanced at her, amazed at the level of knowledge Shauna had about a town she hadn’t even grown up in.

  “You don’t do the grocery shopping. I swear, if you need to know anything, you should head to the market. The things I learn would fill two of those books you all write.”

  “Maybe I’ll go with you if you go shopping before Sunday,” Connie mused. “Of course, it’s the same in our town. I always get the best gossip from Milly at the deli. She’s got her finger on the pulse of New Haven.”

  Cora shook her head. “The places we find our muse. Anyway, I’ve got words calling my name. Who’s going to join me in the living room for a few sprint rounds?”

  “I hate those.” Kelly shook her head. “I’m going to the attic to write. If I stay on top of things, I should have this book in good shape before I leave.”

  “Which probably means she wrote two while she was here.” Connie sighed and headed to the stairs. “I’m in for sprints. I need to increase my word count. Heaven knows I won’t get anything on the plane. Cora likes to chat too much.”

  “Everything has a time. And I don’t see you putting in your headphones like Kelly does and writing anyway.” Lisa stood from the bench. “I’m in. I’ve got to get my laptop and my notebook and I’ll be down.”

  Cora consulted the clock. “We’ll start round one at two thirty. Don’t be late.”

  “You’ve got a bit of a drill sergeant in you, did you know that?” Cat walked with Cora toward the stairs.

  “Writing is less about inspiration and more about perspiration. You have to work to get the words down, they just don’t magically appear on the page.” She paused at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re more than welcome to join us. I think the girls would get a kick out of it.”

  “I might just do that.” Cat looked back and realized Jessi was still standing in the lobby. She hadn’t joined in with the banter, which was totally unusual. Shauna said something to the girl that Cat couldn’t hear and they disappeared into the dining room. “I’m going to check on Jessi.”

  “She’s being quiet right now, which means she’s processing what happened.” Cora’s gaze was focused on the open door to the dining room. “I can’t believe what a rotten week she’s had. I would have been hiding under my covers by now, not wanting to even get out of bed. She’s a strong one. See if she wants to join us in sprints, will you? I think writing would be good for her right now.”

  “I think you’re right.” Cat moved toward the dining room. Writing had gotten her through a lot of bad times. She’d been devastated after the divorce, and writing Tori’s fantasy witch world had given her a place to escape to. A place where husbands didn’t cheat and women didn’t move away from the only place they’d ever called home. When she entered the dining room, she realized Shauna was applying chocolate therapy to heal Jessi’s emotional wounds. They sat at the table, a cup of coffee and a double chunk brownie in front of both of them.

  “Hey, you got any more of those?” Cat moved to the sideboard where Shauna set up the dessert bar she kept stocked during the entire retreat. Unless they were having breakfast.

  “To your left,” Shauna called out. “Come sit with us. We’re sharing our tragic life stories.”

  “Well, I have a few of those.” Cat smiled as she crossed the room and sat with the other two women.

  “You all seem so normal. I can’t believe you’ve had problems.” Jessi shook her head. “Not at the scale of my life.”

  “But think of all the writing fodder you have. I swear, you could write a best seller just from what happened this week.” Shauna took a bite of her brownie.

  Jessi sipped her coffee. “No, I don’t think I’ll do a memoir. But a romance or a mystery? My life experience might just get me some readers.”

  “A true writer takes all the crappy lemons given to her in life and makes lemonade. It’s what we do.” Cat broke off a piece of the brownie. When she popped it into her mouth, she almost groaned. As she’d expected, it was chocolate heaven.

  Jessi nodded. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right. Even the big guys had trouble in their lives. Look at Professor Turner’s precious Hemingway. He took his own life.”

  “I think Professor Turner likes to imagine it was an accidental shooting.” Cat smiled. She’d heard the Covington English professor bandy around his theories. “Or a conspiracy.”

  Jessi laughed, and for a second, Cat heard the relaxed young woman who’d started the retreat on Sunday. “He does love his Hemingway theories.”

  “The group’s getting together to do writing sprints in the living room soon. Do you want to join them?” Cat finished her brownie, washing down the chocolate overload with a hit of dark coffee. No, her life didn’t suck at all. “I think I’m grabbing my laptop and playing for a while.”

  “That sounds like just what I need.” Jessi grabbed her brownie and stood. “I’ll go get my stuff.”

  When they were alone in the room, Cat sipped her coffee. “You were good with her.”

  “I used to be a bartender. Helping people see the bright side of life was my specialty.” Shauna picked up the empty plates. “But you, you gave her hope for the futu
re. If I haven’t told you this before, I’m proud to be part of this retreat. I love seeing writers grow and develop, even if it’s just for a week.”

  “It’s a pretty neat thing.” Cat grabbed the cups and followed her into the kitchen. “I just wish people would stop dying during retreat week. It would make this whole process a lot easier to handle.”

  “I don’t know, it’s kind of a great marketing tool. Come and visit the murder capital of Colorado. And if you’re lucky, you’ll get to help solve the murder.” Shauna rinsed off the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.

  “If you’re not the victim.” Cat shook her head. “No, I don’t think that would sell a lot of spots in upcoming sessions. I’d rather stay with We help bring out the story in you.”

  “I think you’re missing a big market.” Shauna waved her out the door. “Go get ready for your writer race thing.”

  “Sprints. It’s sprints, not races. We start a timed writing session, and then at the end, we report our word count to the group. Then we start again.” Cat explained the process.

  “And they say writers don’t know how to party.” Shauna went to her laptop. “I’ve got to research some new breakfast items for next month. I’m getting tired of stratas.”

  Cat left her friend in the kitchen doing what she loved, thinking about food and recipes, and ran upstairs to get her laptop. She could access her Word document from the cloud storage where she kept the draft. A window was open in her office and the wind was blowing through the room. She crossed over and shut the window and watched as Seth walked out of the backyard and through the wooded path to the pasture. They all had the things they loved. And even though they were all different, they made a good team. Or maybe they made a good team because they were different.

  Cat grabbed her notebook, her laptop, a charger, and a wireless mouse. And then she tucked a couple of pens into the bag where she’d put the rest of the items. The good thing about having an office on the third floor was it was away from everyone else. The bad thing? There were a lot of steps when she forgot something after deciding to write in a different part of the house.

  They were near the end of the third sprint and Cat was feeling pretty good about her word count when Martin burst into the living room.

  “Jessi, oh God, Jessi, are you all right?” He ran to her side and lifted her head to look at him.

  “Stop it, Martin. Can’t you see I’m writing?” She slapped his hand away and glanced at the timer. “Go sit quietly on the couch or something for five minutes. Then I’ll talk to you.”

  Cat bit back a smile. The girl was growing a backbone, that was certain. Martin, apparently shocked at her response, glanced around the room and then followed her instructions. He pulled out his cell phone and started scrolling. At least he knew to be quiet. Cat wasn’t sure who would have yelled at him if he hadn’t, but she would put her money on Connie. The woman was so focused on her laptop, she barely wanted to stop when the timer went off.

  Refocusing on her work, Cat finished a chapter and had the first line of the next one written when she heard the bing from the timer and Cora called time.

  “Call out your word count, ladies.” Lisa stood at the flip chart, ready to write down everyone’s totals.

  As the numbers were called out, Cat realized the session was really getting some words written. She’d have to make this a standard Friday afternoon session for the retreat, if not every afternoon. She might just be able to knock out some serious word count during a retreat if she did a few of these sprint sessions.

  Everyone stood and high-fived one another as the totals were called out. “One last round will start in fifteen minutes. Go get drinks or snacks, go to the bathroom, or whatever,” Cora looked pointedly at Martin, “but be back here ready to kill this thing in fifteen minutes.”

  The women left the room for Martin and Jessi, but Cat hung around. She glanced at Jessi. “Do you want me to leave you two alone?”

  “No, stay.” Jessi turned her attention to him. “Why are you here again?”

  “You almost got killed by a hit-and-run, and you are wondering why I’m here?” Martin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry, not the way I wanted this to go. How are you? Are you okay?”

  Jessi smiled, and it appeared her demeanor lightened a bit, at least from Cat’s point of view. “I’m good. I was a little shaken up, but no bumps, no bruises.”

  “I can’t believe someone is trying to kill you. Uncle Dante says you’ve been the target all along, is that true?”

  Jessi shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is the life I thought I had last Saturday has totally blown up on me. I have no best friend, my boyfriend is a cheating jerk, and my money keeps disappearing. I might as well tell you, the getaway fund my father gave me is gone. Someone took it out of my room.”

  “I can’t help you with the loss of your friend. And I never liked Max anyway.” Martin grinned, but then his lips tightened. “But you can blame me for the getaway fund. I took it and put it away with mine.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He shrugged, visibly shaken at her angry tone. “Uncle Dante told me to watch out for you. When he told me about the cash your dad had given you, well, I wanted to keep it safe. That Danielle chick, she just worried me. I was going to tell you, then I kind of forgot.”

  Cat smiled and moved toward the door. Martin was finally stepping up and taking his responsibilities seriously, even if he was doing it in all the wrong ways. He’d have to realize that Jessi was pretty strong herself. Or at least she was now.

  She closed the door and met Cora’s eyes. The other women had scattered after the writing session. “She’s okay.”

  “I know.” Cora flushed a little. “I just worry about her. She’s had a hard week.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? Hey, I wanted to thank you for setting up the writing sprint session. I think I’m going to add that to next month’s retreat schedule. I know it won’t work for everyone, but it’s a new way for some to think about writing.” Cat glanced at her watch. It was almost five. “Are you all going out tonight for dinner?”

  “That was the plan. I don’t know why, but it feels like we’re on vacation or something but with people who understand you.” Cora took one last look at the closed door. “I guess I’ll go grab one last cup of coffee before we start again.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an ear out for any trouble.” Cat patted the woman’s shoulder. “You’re a good friend.”

  “I’m a mother hen and I know it. But I care.” Cora started up the stairs. “My youngest is just about Jessi’s age. I can’t even imagine Bethany going through what Jessi has this week. She’d be a wreck.”

  “If she’s anything like her mom, I kind of doubt that.” Cat followed Cora into the dining room to pick up and to check on supplies for Shauna as she was waiting for Martin to leave. She stacked the dirty dishes on a tray and threw away the leftovers. With ten minutes still to go, she went back into the study and grabbed a novel she’d been reading a few days ago. She sat in the dining room and started to read.

  She was lost in the story when Jessi came and put a hand on her shoulder. “Martin’s gone. You didn’t have to wait for me. I know you have things to do.”

  “I’m just waiting for the last sprint.” Cat put a bookmark to mark her place and rose, stretching. “Did you and Martin have a good talk?”

  “We did. He’s going to help me move into Dante’s house until I find somewhere of my own after this thing is settled. I read him the riot act about the money, though. Why is it that men are always trying to take care of things that aren’t their business?” Jessi’s eyes looked haunted. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate Dante’s offer of somewhere to stay. It’s a cool house, and at least I don’t have to move back to Boston and live with Mom. I think I’d stay at the saloon and take my chances with the Outlaw ghost killer before I did that.”

  “Not funny, Jessi.”

  The girl smiled as she picke
d up the tray and moved toward the kitchen. “Not even a little? Man, you’re hard to crack.”

  “Okay, maybe a little.” Cat picked up the empty trays for the treats and followed Jessi into the kitchen. Shauna wasn’t in the kitchen, so they loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, then cleaned up the trays.

  “Time for the next sprint. We’re going to the Diner this evening for dinner.” Jessi glanced outside at the darkening road. “You think I’ll be okay walking, don’t you?”

  “Seth can drive you all there and pick you up if you want.” Cat pulled out her phone. “I said that wrong. Seth will drive you there. What time are you leaving?”

  “Everyone’s meeting down here thirty minutes after the last sprint. Really, I’ll be fine walking.” Jessi shook her head. “You don’t have to take care of me.”

  Actually, I do because I promised Dante. Cat caught herself before she actually said the words. “No problem at all. Seth probably has some errands in town anyway.” Cat dialed the number but paused and waved Jessi away. “He’ll be grumpy if you aren’t ready at the time we set. Go tell them to start the sprint without me.”

  Jessi grinned and took off in a jog.

  Cat hit the send button and the phone rang. And rang. Finally, an out-of-breath Seth picked up.

  “What?”

  Uh-oh, maybe he couldn’t drive the gang. Cat would probably have to do it herself. “Hey, are you busy?”

  “A little, why?”

  Cat thought she heard voices in the background. “Who’s with you? I thought you were in the back working on your project.”

  “I’m a little busy to chat. What do you need?”

  He dodged that question, Cat thought. “Any way you can drive the gang to the Diner for dinner in about an hour?”

  “The dinner’s tomorrow. And I thought we were going to the Mexican place?” A large clang sounded and Seth swore under his breath.

  “I just don’t want Jessi walking around town after what happened this afternoon.” Cat glanced out the window, trying to see through the trees. “You sound busy. I’ll drive them.”