by Lynn Cahoon
He went back to the porch and got his gun. “Stay here. Bo’s in the house, he’ll protect you.”
Emma. I’d left Emma in the house. What if she got in the way and got shot? I shook my head. “If you’re going back, so am I.”
“They sent you here to protect you. Go sit in the house and wait.” He started down the path.
“Wait.” I grabbed his arm. “Watch out for my dog, please? Emma. I left her. I should have brought her with me.”
He patted my arm and for the first time, I saw a small smile on his face. “You watch out for Bo, I’ll go get Emma.”
I headed to the house and opened the door. A blue tick hound stared at me from his spot near the fire. “Hey Bo, I’m Jill. Caleb told me to come in and wait. Is that okay?”
As if he understood my words, he stood and crossed the floor, his long tail wagging. Then he sat at the door and watched the knob.
“Caleb wasn’t kidding.” I looked around the neat as a pin cabin. The engagement picture I’d seen online was framed and sat on the mantel. A crocheted throw lay on the couch and a copy of The Old Man and the Sea lay open on the coffee table. I crossed over to the built-in bookshelves and started reading the titles. You could tell a lot from what a person read. Classics with a lot of Lee Child and Tom Clancy. And an entire row of Stephen King hardcovers. I guess Caleb had a lot of time on his hands.
Time spent waiting in his cabin for Dania to return. This guy hadn’t killed her. He was mourning her loss. And while he waited, he’d kept the house just as if she were here.
I pulled out a copy of Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast and sat on the couch. I opened the book and tried to read, but my thoughts kept going back to Greg going up the stairs. I glanced at the large clock that hung over the mantle. I’d only been here for less than ten minutes.
I made a deal with myself. If I didn’t hear from anyone in ten more minutes, I was going down to find out what happened. I started reading and let the familiar words sooth my soul. A growl out of Bo pulled me out of the book and I went to the window. Greg, Caleb, and Emma were coming up the path. I returned the book to its spot on the shelf. Then I rubbed Bo’s head. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
A short woof told me he knew his job was done and he went back to his bed by the fireplace.
I swung open the door and closed it behind me. Then I ran to Greg and threw myself into his arms. “You’re okay?”
“You sound surprised. You know I do this for a living, right?” He squeezed me tight. “Caleb thought you might want to see Emma as well.”
I dropped down on my knees and circled my arms around her. “I’m so sorry I left you in the cabin. I should have taken you with me.”
“I don’t think Blake gave you much time to think when he left with you.” Greg stroked my hair.
“What happened?” I stood with one hand on Greg’s back and one on Emma’s. They were my world and I felt a little more centered. “Why was Russell after Kathi?”
“Let’s go sit on the porch and I’ll tell you everything.” Greg glanced at Caleb. “You wouldn’t have a beer or two, would you?”
“I think I can scrounge up a few.” He nodded to the chairs. “Make yourselves at home.”
As Greg explained, I rocked.
“It wasn’t Russell in the house, it was Denny. And from what he said when we took him down, he was the one who killed Dania and the Idaho woman. He’s freaking crazy.” Greg went on to tell me how Denny had been pacing in Kathi’s bedroom, trying to devise an escape plan. Kathi kept asking him questions on why he’d hurt those women and if he was going to hurt her too. “When he went to her to explain how she was the only one, I pushed the door open and got him to the ground. By then, Blake and Anderson were back and all we had to do was put on the cuffs.”
Caleb handed Greg and me a beer. “By the time I got there, it was all done except for putting him in the police car. Of course, Anderson’s boys saw me with the gun and drew on me instead of the real bad guy. I’m getting the feeling they don’t like me much.”
Greg laughed. “Well, at least you can walk around without wondering what people are thinking about you now. You’re a free man.”
Sadness filled Caleb’s eyes. And he took a swig off his beer. “You’re right. I am free. Dania and I were going to go to Europe for the honeymoon. Maybe I need to fulfill her dream.”
“She’d like that, I think.” I thought about the woman in the picture. She’d had kind eyes. And she was clearly in love with the man standing next to her.
Bo whined at the door.
“Of course, I’ll have to convince Mom to let Bo stay for a few months.” He went and opened the door. Bo walked out on the porch and directly up to Emma, sniffed, then laid down at Caleb’s feet.
A stillness filled the air but for the first time since I’d arrived, the quiet didn’t bother me. It felt right.
Chapter 8
The smell of fresh cinnamon rolls woke me on Thanksgiving morning and I hurried out of bed to get dressed and downstairs. Greg was already up and gone, but Emma sat by the door. I let her out of the room. “You’re going to have to convince someone downstairs to let you out or wait for me to get down.”
She nodded her head in response and took off down the stairs as I closed the door. Some days the best conversations I had were with my dog. I took a quick shower, then changed into clean jeans and a sweat shirt. The temperature had dropped overnight and the weather guys were talking about snow. I ran a brush through my tangled curls and smiled at the thought. Then I figured it was good enough and followed Emma downstairs.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” Harrold sat on the couch, a book in his hand. “I just let Emma out, I hope that’s okay?”
“She was probably hoping someone down here would understand her language.” I walked over and gave Harrold a kiss on the cheek. “I guess you speak dog.”
“Among my other many talents.” He patted my cheek. “I’m so glad you invited me to your cabin for Thanksgiving.”
“Aunt Jackie’s nicer with you around.”
“I heard that.” My aunt stood behind me with a cup of coffee. “I should take this back and pour it down the drain and let you get your own.”
“But it’s Thanksgiving.” I took the mug from her and kissed her cheek as well. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“That’s not what I just heard.” My aunt grumbled as she went to sit next to Harrold on the couch.
Just then, Greg and Blake came inside with an armful of wood. Emma trotted alongside the men. Greg grinned at me. “Even Kathi is up before you this morning.”
“Whatever.” I walked into the kitchen, Emma at my heels. Kathi was cutting and dishing homemade cinnamon rolls. “Those look amazing.”
“They’re my mother’s recipe.” Kathi smiled as she handed me a plate. She looked at home in the kitchen, even though her makeup was still picture perfect. I was going to have to get used to the fact that my new friend was always ready for her cover shot. “Can’t be Thanksgiving without a sugary sweet breakfast. Texas sized cinnamon rolls fit the bill perfectly.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Maybe it’s Amy and Justin.” I said as I started to move toward the door. Greg beat me to it and when he opened it, Caleb stood with a covered dish in his hands and Bo at his side.
“Good morning.” I stepped aside so he could come in. I really wanted everyone to see him because they were never going to believe it was the same man. Instead of the long hair and ZZ Top style beard, Caleb was clean shaven and had gotten his hair cut into a buzz cut. His eyes were still a piercing brown, but clearing from the sorrow I’d seen when we’d first met.
“Bo, go lay down.” Caleb nodded to the fireplace. “You don’t want him wandering around the place, not with all this food around.”
“You’re both welcome.” Greg shut the door. “What brings you here
.”
“I can’t stay long. I’m heading to the folks for Thanksgiving. They like to watch the Macy’s parade while we eat breakfast and I’m in charge of the hash brown casserole.” He handed the dish to me. “But last night, I got out Dania’s pumpkin cheesecake recipe and I think my version is even edible. I wanted to thank you all for everything.”
“You don’t have to thank us.” I took the dish and put it on the counter. “I hear Sheriff Anderson found plenty at Denny’s storage place to connect him to both murders.”
“It was right there, all along. And she was so close, I should have known.” Caleb glanced out the window toward the dunes.
“You can’t blame yourself.” Kathi held out a cinnamon roll on a plate. “Here, eat something and have some coffee with us. I love your new look.”
He smiled. “Thanks, but I better be heading to Mom’s. She’s a little clingy right now. She’s already called three times to see if I’m on my way. I don’t think she likes the idea of me taking off next month. I’ve decided to spend some time in Europe, just like Dania wanted to when we got married. It’s my way of honoring her memory.”
“Well, I hope you keep in touch.” Greg took the plate and handed Caleb a couple of paper towels. He leaned close. “If you don’t take the roll, her feelings will be hurt.”
Caleb grinned and took the gooey treat off the plate and took a big bite before wrapping it in the paper towels. “Perfect hiking snack.”
“It’s one day. Calories don’t count today.” Kathi turned back toward the counter. “Now to make dressing. First I need to bake some cornbread.”
Aunt Jackie hurried back into the kitchen. “No, I brought day old bread. We make it with bread, not cornbread.”
Caleb stepped toward the door and snapped his fingers for Bo. “Looks like you all are going to have a lot of food by the time you get ready to sit down.”
“If they don’t kill each other first.” I glanced toward the kitchen where both Kathi and Aunt Jackie were pulling out ingredients for the dressing. I glanced at Caleb. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that…”
“No worries, it’s a figure of speech. Anyway, thanks again. And come back soon. You guys are amazing.” As Bo and Caleb stepped off the porch, Justin and Amy pulled up in his Smart car.
“I bet they had to change the hamster twice to get here,” Greg deadpanned.
As we walked over to help them carry in their luggage and the bags of groceries, Amy pulled me aside. “Who’s that Adonis that just walked through the driveway. I can’t believe I had to work this week and missed all the fun. Has he been out riding with you all?”
I wondered how much to tell our friends about the interesting few days we’d had before Thanksgiving, but then I realized, the truth would always come out. Dania had taught us that in her death and her discovery. The good guys win. End of story.
Recipe
Dear readers,
Thanksgiving is one of my favorite times of the year. Mostly because of the food. And with the food, comes the memories. Growing up, Mom made bread dressing at our house, not the cornbread dressing that Kathi’s making in the story. The only problem was she added the giblets to the dressing for flavor. I make oyster dressing now, but only for me. The rest of the group gets the plain kind. And we had ham and turkey. Probably because we had around thirty people at the table some years. But it’s a tradition I’ve continued.
I hope you enjoyed my holiday story. Happy Thanksgiving.
Lynn
Here’s my recipe for Pumpkin Marble Cheesecake.
Best served with tons of whipped cream.
Pre-heat your oven to 350 degrees.
In a large bowl, cream the following:
2 pkgs cream cheese
3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla
Then mix in
3 eggs
Beating after each addition
When smooth, set aside 1 cup of the mixture.
Add:
1 cup pumpkin
3/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
Pour mixture into a
Graham cracker crust (pre-made)
Pour the mixture you set aside—separated into four drops—on top of the pumpkin filling. Run a knife through the piles to gently marble the mixture into the pumpkin.
Bake for 55 minutes.
Chill. Enjoy.
Meet the Author
Lynn Cahoon is the award-winning author of several New York Times and USA Today bestselling cozy mystery series. The Tourist Trap series is set in central coastal California with six holiday novellas and nine full-length novels releasing in 2018-2019. She also pens the Cat Latimer series, available in mass market paperback. Her newest series, the Farm to Fork mystery series, was released in 2018. She lives in a small town, like the ones she loves to write about, with her husband and two fur babies.
Sign up for her newsletter at www.lynncahoon.com
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Lyrical Underground
Chapter 1
To everything, there is a season. This truth was given to us in the Bible as well as through the sacred music of the Byrds. Life goes in cycles. As I sat and listened to Paula Woods from the Senior Project talk to the Business-to-Business meeting, I pondered my own life and seasons. And of course, the seasons of the ones I loved. As the South Cove city council liaison for the business community, it was my job to set up these monthly meetings. Most months we talked about upcoming marketing festivals or rules and regulations that the city council had taken up for discussion. This month, the topic was closer to home.
I’m Jill Gardner. I set up the meetings and their agendas, but I also own Coffee, Books, and More, our regular meeting place. We are the only coffee shop slash bookstore in our small coastal town.
In addition to the community business agenda items, we had a guest speaker. Paula was also a member of Sadie Michael’s church. Sadie owned Pies on the Fly, which was my dessert supplier for the shop, and she is one of my best friends. She advocated for Paula to have a slot on this month’s agenda.
October was a slow month for topics with everyone getting back in gear for the holidays, so I scheduled her in for the last hour of our meeting. I could tell she was winding down and so was the attention span of our attending members. Me? I was checking my dark, curly hair for split ends.
“I just wanted to thank Jill again for inviting me to speak with you. Elder abuse is a serious topic that our country needs to address. And I hope all of you will think about the care and attention older people in your life need and deserve. Thank you.” Paula looked my way and I took that as my cue, jumping up to take the microphone before Mayor Baylor could even get out of his chair.
“Thank you, Paula, for your thoughtful presentation. I know a lot of us will be thinking about what you said for a while.” That got me a glare from my aunt who neither acted like nor admitted to being elderly. “I just wanted to remind everyone that our next meeting is after Octoberfest finishes, so I thought Darla might have some last-minute instructions for us. Darla, do you mind? I know I didn’t have this on the agenda.”
“Not a problem.” Darla Taylor made her way to the front table. She’d been in charge of South Cove’s festivals for as long as I’d owned my shop. Well, except for that one Christmas, but even then, she saved the day after the mayor’s wife had messed up the planning. “I was going to jump in with some reminders before we closed anyway.”
As Darla came up, the mayor glanced at his watch. I passed by his chair and he grabbed my arm, bringing me down to his level. He whispered in my ear, “I need
to get back to my office.”
“Go ahead and leave. You’re not being held hostage.” I turned toward him so my voice wouldn’t carry over Darla’s.
“You know I like to close the meeting. Besides, it’s election year and I need to remind people to register to vote.” He cocked his head and studied me. “Your boyfriend isn’t thinking about running for mayor this year, is he? Maybe this is a ploy to keep me from getting in front of the business owners?”
“I’m not Greg’s campaign manager.” I saw the fear my choice of words had caused. I pulled my arm free, certain everyone was pretending to listen to Darla but really focused on our little spat. “Anyway, he’s not running. At least, not to my knowledge. Stop being paranoid. Go now or stay and talk. It’s your call.”
When I sat down, Aunt Jackie leaned over, unable to squelch her curiosity. She was dressed casually today in her blue Chanel suit that made her silver hair shine. She wore pearl earrings but instead of the matching strand, she had on an old silver heart necklace I hadn’t seen her wear in years. “What did Mayor Bird want?”
I snorted at the nickname our mayor had been given mostly because of his too high voice. He glared at me across the table, like he knew what I was laughing about.
“He’s afraid he won’t have time to campaign with the group this morning. We’re taking too much of his precious time.” I glanced over at Deek Kerr who was watching the proceedings with interest. Of course, the newest barista thought everything was interesting. He claimed to be a professional student, but at least with the barista job, he could convince his mom he was trying to be self-sufficient. He fit right in to the casual California lifestyle with his blond dreadlocks and surfer boy tan and looks, but the kid was scary smart. This month, his dreadlocks were tinged with electric blue.
He saw my look and held up an empty coffee carafe. I shook my head. If we gave the group another round of coffee, they may never leave the shop. It was almost ten and time for Coffee, Books, and More, to be serving actual customers.
