Going Home (Nugget Romance 1)

by Stacy Finz

  “Not yet,” she said. “So, what do you think about Sophie and Mariah having a baby and The Big Book of Sperm?”

  He chuckled. “Sort of a non sequitur there, but yeah, I’m aware of The Big Book of Sperm. What’s wrong with it? Sophie’s thirty-eight—she has to get cracking on this. A lot of people, even straight couples, use donors.”

  Maddy was surprised that her brother was taking it so seriously. While Nate was methodical in his business dealings, he was careless, even immature, in his personal life, dating and dumping women faster than his housekeeping staff could change a bed. She didn’t think he gave a lot of thought to family and babies.

  “What’s going on with that divorce lawyer I recommended?” Nate asked. “She serve him yet?”

  “Yep.” The court documents had all been signed, sealed, and as far as she knew delivered. It had been a little tricky with Dave being in a foreign country. But her lawyer was . . . very diligent. Before she could say more on the topic, their carpenter, Colin, came out on the porch.

  “We have a problem,” he said.

  Both Maddy and Nate turned to see their entire construction team filing out of the building and spilling onto the yard.

  “I evacuated them,” Colin said.

  “What’s going on?” Maddy asked with alarm.

  Colin came down the steps and pulled Maddy and Nate aside. “I’m pretty sure I just found a drug lab in your basement.”

  “Well, let’s pull it out of there, so we can get back to work,” Nate said.

  “Uh-uh.” Colin directed himself at Maddy. “We need to call the police. There are drums of stuff down there—quite possibly flammable, explosive, even toxic. They were stowed behind a false wall I just ripped out. That’s why we never noticed it before.”

  Nate blew out an exasperated breath, while Maddy dialed Rhys. He got there ten minutes later and waved her over while surveying the crew.

  “Who’s the biker-looking dude with the bandanna around his head?” he asked in a hushed tone.

  “His name is Colin Burke,” Maddy said. “He’s the one who found it.”

  “Ah, Colin the chair guy. Shep has one of his rockers.” Maddy nodded and Rhys asked, “Who’s that?”

  “That’s my brother Nate. Let me introduce you.” She called Nate over from talking with the workers and made the introductions.

  Nate gave Rhys one of his obnoxious, overly firm handshakes, which was embarrassing for everyone involved, including Maddy. Rhys either didn’t notice, or pretended not to.

  “So you’re my sister’s neighbor,” Nate said, spreading his legs wide and folding his arms over his chest, taking the overly protective dork thing to new levels.

  “Yep. That would be me.” They just stood there for a while until Rhys nodded in the direction of the building. “I should probably get inside, check things out. Nice meeting you.”

  “Likewise,” Nate said. “Watch your back in there.”

  Watch your back in there? Maddy rolled her eyes.

  Rhys headed over to Colin, talked to him for a few minutes, and told everyone to wait on the sidewalk behind the falling-down wrought iron fence.

  “He seems like he knows what he’s doing,” Nate said.

  Maddy watched Rhys disappear inside the mansion; hand on his hip holster, all badass and hotness. She reminded herself that it was perfectly normal for a woman in the throes of an ugly divorce to find another man—not her husband—attractive. Her heart might be dead, but the rest of her body parts worked just fine. “He used to be a narcotics detective, you know?”

  “Yeah, you told me when you first moved in.” Nate regarded her intently.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You call Mom and Dad?”

  Maddy shuffled from one foot to the other. “Uh-huh. Left a message.”

  Nate scowled at her, but before he could lecture her on the ills of avoiding her parents, Colin came over. The carpenter caught Maddy off guard by reaching out and giving her an awkward pat. Some might see him as aloof, even intimidating with his bushy beard and powerful build. She knew he was just socially awkward. Sometimes Maddy got the sense that he’d spent so much time alone making his furniture that he hadn’t had a lot of human contact.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I know you’re both anxious to get going on this project.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Thank God you found it when you did. Someone could’ve been hurt.”

  Rhys came out of the house and Maddy and Nate automatically started walking toward him. He held up his hand and motioned for them to meet him at his SUV.

  “This is a crime scene now, so I need you to stay off the grounds,” Rhys told them, glancing over at the workers milling around on the sidewalk. A few of the merchants also looked on curiously.

  Owen had come out of his barber shop and crossed the square. “Everything okay?”

  Before Maddy could respond, Rhys told Owen, “I’ll be over in a few minutes to let you know what’s going on, but for now we have to keep the area clear.” He turned back to her and Nate. “You may as well send your crew home.”

  “Is it really a drug lab?” Maddy asked.

  “Meth, from the looks of it,” he said.

  “How can you tell?” Nate wanted to know.

  “Bunsen burners, lots of cooking equipment, drain cleaner. I’m leaving the drums to a hazmat team, but if I had to guess, I’d say ether.” Rhys lowered his voice. “Stuff’s worth money. What worries me is whoever left it might come back looking for it.”

  “What do we do now?” Maddy asked.

  “Wait for us to process the scene—pull all that equipment out of there, make sure the chemicals haven’t made it uninhabitable. Then you can go back to work.”

  “How long will that take?” Nate asked.

  “Three days. Maybe a week, depending on whether you have to send in a cleanup crew.”

  “A week—”

  “Nate.” Maddy fixed him with an admonishing glare. “Why don’t you get the workers off the clock, while I continue our conversation with the chief.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Maddy waited for Nate to walk away. “Don’t mind him. He’s just frustrated.”

  “No doubt. It sucks. Hopefully we can get this done quickly and find the culprit,” Rhys said, absently pushing a stray hair that had come loose from Maddy’s twist away from her face.

  “I just never expected something like this right here in the middle of town,” she said. “I know meth has become a problem in rural areas, but this seems fairly brazen. Doesn’t it?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Nah. It’s so commonplace in the Sierra that these guys set up wherever they find a vacant building. A place like this is actually ideal because they can come in at night and steal electricity and water from the neighboring businesses. For an abandoned cabin in the woods, they’d need a generator if they wanted light.”

  From the distance of the street, Rhys tilted his head, regarding the basement’s now-open cellar door. “The stuff down there looked cobwebby, like it’s been behind that wall awhile, so maybe this was just a convenient storage unit for them until they could find somewhere else to do their cooking.” He shrugged. “Who knows? I’ll check with the sheriff. They’ll have a hot list of known parolees and probationers in the area. But what I’m hoping is that this jogs some memories . . . maybe a merchant saw someone, something . . . that looked funny.”

  “Pam from the yoga studio saw something,” she said, suddenly remembering their first conversation. “She told me a few days ago that some sketchy people were loitering around the building, thought they might be squatters, that I should be careful.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” he said, and Maddy got the impression that her piece of news didn’t sit well with him.

  “Can Colin go, too?”

  “Not yet. I have to take a formal statement from him since he’s the guy who found it.” He glanced over at Colin. “What do you know about him?—seems real nervous.”
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  “Oh, he’s just bashful,” she said. “But he’s a sweetheart. In fact, he’s the one who insisted we call the police. If it had been up to Nate, the guys would still be hammering away.” Maddy shook her head.

  Rhys darted another sideways look over at Colin. “Shep seems to think he’s had some troubles.”

  “Hmm, I don’t know anything about that. He’s an amazing carpenter, though. Before we hired him he showed Nate and me the house he’s building up on Grizzly Peak and it’s gorgeous. He also did a lot of the woodwork in the Ponderosa. Honestly, Rhys, he strikes me as a very nice man. And responsible.”

  Rhys shoved his hands in his pockets and let his gaze quickly flicker over her. He did that a lot, she noticed. “Okay,” he said, and then, for some odd reason, he reached over and gave her a little kiss on the forehead. Just as abruptly, he walked over to where Colin stood.

  “I think our police chief is sweet on you,” Nate said as he came up behind Maddy, giving her a jolt.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “He just smooched you in front of everyone. And I’m crazy?”

  “It was a brotherly little peck.” She slugged him in the arm. “So don’t go exaggerating things.”

  “Brotherly?” Nate shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  She let it drop, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold. Mid-October in San Francisco usually felt like summer, but here, it was more of a brisk fall. “Maybe we should’ve inspected this place better before we bought it. I’m worried this is going to turn out to be a big problem.”

  “I certainly don’t like having to stop work,” Nate said. “But we bought a blighted building and the basement had a false wall. The only reason we found it in the first place is because of the demolition.”

  “I know. It just gives me the jitters.” Maddy watched Rhys stretch yellow crime scene tape across the fence. “I have to go to a meeting for the Halloween festival. We’re making goodie bags. There’s nothing you can do here. Want to come meet Pam from the yoga studio and the other ladies?”

  Nate glanced at his watch. “Nope. I think I’ll get an early start back to the city. Traffic through Sacramento at rush hour is a bitch.”

  “Okay.” She gave her brother a hug. “Drive carefully. Oh . . . and Nate, you’re coming back for the festival, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said sarcastically. Nate thought he was a little too good for all mankind, but Maddy loved him anyway.

  She waved goodbye to Nate, but before leaving in her own car, Rhys called her over.

  “Hey.” He clasped her by the shoulders. “Promise me you won’t go in the Lumber Baron by yourself for a while.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Drug-sniffing dogs is what I heard,” Grace Miller, queen bee of the Baker’s Dozen cooking club, told the other four women assembled around a folding table covered with craft supplies and bags of Halloween candy. “They had the entire sheriff’s narcotics task force combing through that mansion.”

  Besides Grace, Maddy recognized Donna Thurston, who along with her husband owned the Bun Boy and Ethel of the Nugget Market. She’d met all three ladies at the first meeting. And of course Pam. Maddy didn’t know the fifth woman, an attractive blonde who looked closer to her own age.

  They were so captivated with Grace’s exaggerated version of the Lumber Baron incident that no one had noticed when Maddy snuck in. Pam’s yoga studio was about the size of a gymnasium, one side covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors and a long ballet barre that ran across the wall.

  “I saw the whole thing,” Pam said dismissively. “There were no dogs and it was just Chief Shepard.”

  Someone else started to make an observation when the group finally glimpsed Maddy standing next to the upright piano.

  Grace was the first to hop up from her chair and extend her arms for a hug. “You okay, dear?”

  Maddy barely knew her, but she walked into the plump woman’s embrace and into a cloud of Jean Naté. Who knew they still sold the stuff? “I’m fine,” she said. “The whole thing is just a little disconcerting.”

  “Well, of course it is,” Grace said, absently fluffing her head of gray curls. “But a slice of Amanda’s upside-down pear cake will fix you right up.” She pulled a chair out from the table for Maddy and patted the seat.

  “We’re just lucky you found it before the place went up like a bomb,” Pam said. “Does Chief Shepard have any leads?”

  “Not yet, but he wants to talk to you about those guys you saw hanging around the place.”

  “Damn,” Pam said. “I wish I’d snapped a photo of them with my phone.”

  “Can you go back in?” Grace wanted to know.

  “Not for a few days. They have to make sure the place isn’t contaminated.”

  Someone pushed a plate of cake in front of her. Maddy, who rarely found a sweet she could resist, didn’t have much of an appetite. But she took a bite to be polite.

  “Oh, my God.” The rich flavors of something—Maddy had no idea what, maybe cinnamon and ginger—exploded in her mouth. “You actually made this?” she asked Amanda.

  “I sure did,” Amanda said, smiling proudly.

  “When Amanda and her husband aren’t training prize-winning quarter horses, she’s generous enough to bake for every school, Kiwanis and Cattlewomen Association fund-raiser there is in this town—and there are a lot,” Grace said.

  “You could seriously sell this and make a fortune.” Maddy tried not to inhale the whole piece.

  “Do you cook, Maddy?” Grace asked.

  “I microwave.” If Maddy wanted to be completely truthful she did mostly takeout.

  Grace held her heart like she was having a coronary. “Join the Baker’s Dozen, dear, and we’ll teach you how to cook.”

  “I don’t think there’s any hope.” Ever since the incident with the double-boiler—how was Maddy supposed to know that you didn’t melt the chocolate directly in the water?—she’d given herself a pass as far as the culinary arts. Not everyone was cut out to be Nigella Lawson. “But after this cake, definitely yoga.”

  “Excellent.” Pam clapped her hands. The yoga instructor had to be in her early forties, but her body rivaled that of a thirty-year-old. “You have to come to the morning group.”

  “I’m in it,” Amanda announced. And Maddy thought, Why? No muffin top hanging over that girl’s jeans, not like Maddy’s.

  Pam rebuked the other three women with a piercing glare.

  Grace held her palms up. “What? You think the Nugget Feed Store runs itself?”

  Pam just shook her head. “You make time for what’s important. After the meeting I’ll give you a schedule,” she told Maddy, grabbing a clipboard and pulling her chair closer to the table. “Okay, ladies, what do you say we get started?” She pointed to the candy bags on the table and everyone dutifully started stuffing. “Sophie and Mariah are doing the soft drinks, water, and have kindly offered to supply free beer and wine.”

  Pam looked down at the clipboard. “Baker’s Dozen, how we doing on desserts?”

  “Good,” Amanda said. “I’m in charge of cupcakes, Grace is doing caramel apples, Donna and Ethel are handling cookies, brownies, and pecan squares.”

  “Perfect.” Pam checked it off her list. “Can you guys show up a little early and set up tables?”

  “You bet,” Donna said. Of all the women in the group, Donna was the fashion plate, her blond hair stylishly layered with highlights so good they almost looked natural. Maddy put her at fiftyish.

  Pam put down the clipboard. “Maddy and I are in charge of the stage, fortune-teller’s tent, and decorating the park.”

  Maddy tied off a bag with a piece of orange yarn and turned to the group. “Okay, at the risk of sounding a little off-the-wall, what would you think about adding a Donner Party element to the festival. Too crass?”

  Donna’s eyes widened. “Oooh, Oooh . . . we can make gingerbread men with missing arms and legs.” Am
anda laughed, but in that nervous kind of way, and Ethel looked faintly appalled.

  “Okay, bad idea. But I think Nugget should do something to commemorate the event. Maybe once a year we could host a Donner Party History Day. And while I’m on the topic, what do you guys think about organizing some kind of downtown merchants’ association?”

  “Uh, thank you, Jesus,” Donna raised her face reverently to the ceiling. “Then we could force Portia Cane to do something about that ghetto kiosk of hers.”

  “So what’s the deal with her anyway?” Amanda wanted to know. “Are she and Steve an item? Because I kind of got the impression that she played for the other team.”

  “Hold on, ladies. Slow down for the new girl.” These Baker’s Dozen women were definitely in the running for Maddy’s new best friends. So far, they traded more gossip than they did recipes. “Who’s Portia Cane?”

  “She and Steve own the tour guide business across from you,” Ethel said. “You’ll meet her at the festival. She’s in charge of the skeet-shooting booth.”

  “Well, are they together, Gracie?” Amanda asked, and told Maddy, “Steve is Earl’s brother.”

  “Who’s Earl?” Maddy asked.

  “Grace’s husband,” the other women answered in unison.

  “As far as I know they’re just business partners. But don’t ask, don’t tell, right?”

  “You know, Donna,” Pam said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Portia’s not the only one with a ratty business. What about all those boarded-up storefronts on the square?”

  “You talk to Trevor about that. That’s his, not mine. His family had those buildings long before our marriage. I’ll take full responsibility for the Bun Boy, the best-looking frosty in the Sierra, if I do say so myself.”

  “Yes it is,” Ethel said.

  “Right back at you, beautiful.”

  “So,” Maddy said, “what do we have to do to get an association going?”

  “Ha,” Pam said. “To do anything in this town takes an act of Congress. The trick is getting the Nugget Mafia—Steve, Earl, Trevor, Ethel’s husband, Stu, Mayor Dink Caruthers—on board.”