Shakti struggled against the harness. She’d gotten a piece of webbing in her mouth and was gnawing away. “Shit,” Jess muttered. She hoped that was the dog harness and not the seatbelt. The realtor’s sold sign was at the side of the road. Without it she would have blown by her own driveway.
The driveway was rougher than she’d remembered, deeply rutted from years of neglect. She slowed to a crawl and navigated around holes large enough to sink a tire. She scowled, keeping her eyes on the gravel, hoping she’d get to the house before Shakti destroyed her seatbelt.
The barn sat to the side of the drive, a large wooden structure, red paint peeling, the interior a mess of old straw, dust, and cobwebs. It had been ignored by at least the two previous owners and had become home to owls, mice, swallows, bats, and other creatures as they saw fit to take refuge there. Jess hoped to have it cleaned out before the next snowfall. She didn’t like the idea of evicting her tenants, but she did have other ideas for the structure.
On the other side of the drive, closer to the house, was a round brick shed. The realtor said it was a smokehouse, but warned Jess it would need some repair before it could be used again. Not something Jess, a vegetarian, would be needing, but the little structure would make a nice gardening shed.
The driveway rolled right up to the front of the farmhouse, then banked left then right to a newer detached garage at the side of the house. A more direct, curving drive up to the garage hadn’t been possible without removing a mature stand of birch trees. A porch spanned the front of the house, the corner near the garage sagged noticeably, but not so much that Jess would have to repair it. In fact, she was told it had probably been that way since its first winter, the effect of settling, and was nothing to worry about. A four-square—square in shape with four rooms on each floor—Jess was assured the place was a bargain, lots of light, lots of land, outbuildings to boot. Her realtor, a thin woman with hair piled high on her head and large gold hoops dangling from each ear, mused that the barn might have prevented other people from snatching it up, because it was another thing to maintain or maybe tear down. Jess liked the barn. It represented an opportunity to her, though she hadn’t yet figured out what kind of opportunity. And she fell in love with the house before she stepped foot inside.
Her budget required that Jess look at plenty of bank-owned properties. They almost always had some major flaw, like the previous owners trashed it on the way out or the walls were full of mold. The realtor had opened one such house only to slam the door shut and refuse Jess entry. Jess went to a window and peered inside. The place was a garbage dump full of vermin. The opening of the door had disturbed a few of the squatters and Jess saw several mice running for cover. This house, her house, was beautiful. It was as though the bank had been holding onto it just for her. How else could she explain its sitting on the market for month after month?
Jess jumped out of the car and raced around to the passenger side. She threw open the door. Shakti looked up at her, tail thumping happily against the seat, a piece of chewed webbing hanging out of her mouth. Jess took the strap out from between Shakti’s teeth…thankfully only the dog harness. “Why I ought…” she said, lifting the puppy from the car. Shakti kissed Jess’s face, her tongue a fast moving projectile. “Blech!” Jess put her on the ground, and Shakti set about sniffing everywhere. The lawn wasn’t much, but Jess didn’t care for grass anyway. She’d rather plant a butterfly garden and never touch a mower. “Come on, Bear,” she called before Shakti got too far away. When Shakti ran, her rump swung side to side with each stride. That, and her almost white coloring, reminded Jess of a baby polar bear. She couldn’t help laughing whenever she watched the puppy run.
The house faced northeast with a porch that spanned the front. It had been painted a pleasant shade of dark red. Jess took a deep breath. This looked like home. She dug the house key out of her purse and carried Shakti up the porch steps. “This is where we’ll have our morning coffee and our evening wine when the weather is nice. We’ll watch all the birds and squirrels that come to our feeders.” Square columns supported the porch roof at its corners. The wooden planks had been painted recently, making obvious a fresh gouge that ran the length of one of the boards. Shakti lifted her chin to lap at Jess’s neck while she pictured herself sitting quietly in a rocking chair on her porch, watching wild turkey crossing her yard. And a coyote or two. Deer would be abundant, as would hawks, raccoons, and other wild creatures. Jess smiled at the imagined parade of wildlife. She had lived under a major flight path for years, the jets shaking her windows, then in an apartment that overlooked a main road between the lakes and Uptown. “Do you hear that?” she whispered. “It’s so quiet.” As if in response, a breeze picked up and rustled the leaves in the trees.
Jess turned back toward the house, pausing to admire the leaded glass panes above each window flanking the entrance before opening her door. She scooped up Shakti and carried her over the threshold and into their new life.
With the movers finally gone, Jess stood in the living room, hands on her hips, surveying her home. A layer of grit covered her skin and her stomach complained of hunger. Shakti wove her way through the boxes, sniffing them all, trying to decide which hunk of cardboard to pulverize first. Jess hardly knew where to begin.
Feed the dog. Wash up a little. Go to town.
The odds of anything being open in Skoghall were slim—April was not exactly tourist season on the River Road. She might have to drive to Bay City, or even Red Wing, but so be it. Jess didn’t have the energy to face her kitchen.
She set up Shakti’s crate in the living room and shut her inside, dropping a dog cookie through the bars before heading to the front door. Shakti began crying immediately. Her high-pitched whine was the most plaintive, pathetic sound Jess had ever heard.
With the harness destroyed, Jess put Shakti in the foot well of the passenger seat. “Now, stay put,” she said. Shakti wagged her tail happily. “Yeah, I know. You just learned how to get your way with me. Great.”
Jess turned the car around and glanced in her rearview mirror for one more look at her new home before driving away. A light shimmered in the front window.
She twisted around to look over her shoulder, but there was nothing. No light. No movement. Just a tired woman and a puppy starting their new life together. She cracked the windows and turned on the stereo as she pulled away from the house.
“Crap!” she exclaimed as the hatchback rolled into a giant rut, bottoming out and jarring her teeth. Shakti yelped with surprise. “I know, Bear. We’ll get it fixed…someday.” Jess turned up the stereo and pulled onto Haug Drive, taking a left toward town.
It was a downhill ride into Skoghall, through the woods and then a sharp turn onto Main Street. Jess snapped off the stereo and slowed way down. It wouldn’t do to make a bad first impression, speeding into town with Aimee Mann blaring out the windows. It looked like Jess needn’t have bothered. Main Street was empty. She went down to the river and doubled back, just in case. Then on a whim, she parked in front of the community garden and walked Shakti back toward the spring.
The surrounding stores’ porch lights partly lit the garden. Some of the flowers were already in bloom, topping long stalks with pink and orange blossoms. Many more remained enclosed in their outermost petals, promising to show themselves soon. A few park benches and gazing balls invited visitors to linger. Jess looped around to the footbridge that passed over the spring and led to the entrance of the Water Wheel Café.
Shakti halted and stared at the water. Her ears went up and her eyes fixed on the movement below. She popped forward, bouncing toward the spring, then back again. She lifted a paw to dab at the air then jumped away as though shocked, despite her paw being well above the water’s surface. Jess laughed. “Never seen moving water before, huh Bear?” She stroked Shakti’s head to reassure her, then continued across the footbridge. Shakti stopped again as they neared the water wheel and scrambled backwards. If she hadn’t been on a leash she would
have gone over the side of the bridge and dropped into the cold water. Jess rescued the puppy and carried her to the door of the café.
Music played and a light shone somewhere beyond the dining room. Jess knocked on the frame of the screen door and waited.
She knocked again and called out a tentative, “Hello?”
She was about to leave when a tall, muscular man walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, his biceps swelling impressively from a Decemberists t-shirt. Jess realized she was staring. “I love The Decemberists.”
He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow under a head of dark, shaggy hair. He hadn’t shaved for a couple of days and didn’t exactly look friendly.
“Hi. I’m Jess and this is Shakti.” She slid a foot backwards, ready to turn on her heels and head back to her car. “We just moved here. Today. Um, now, actually. And my stuff is all boxed up and I could use dinner. And a bottle of wine, honestly. It’s been a long day. And this is a café…” She chuckled and felt like a moron. “I know you’re closed. Maybe you can recommend somewhere that’s not too far of a drive?”
He looked her up and down for a long moment. Shakti wiggled and slipped through Jess’s arms. She scooped the air and caught the puppy, hoisting her up and somehow getting her hand caught in the Ding’s pointy little teeth. Jess grimaced and pried her fingers free.
“The only place I’d recommend around here is the Water Wheel Café. For obvious reasons.”
Jess cringed, as though she’d actually suggested there was somewhere better.
“You aren’t some kind of undercover health board agent?”
She laughed. Too loudly. “Just moved. That’s all.”
He pushed the screen door open and Jess squeezed by his broad shoulders. When she turned to face him, she saw that he was standing between her and the exit. She felt the fool again, but for entirely different reasons. “I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said.
“No. It’s fine. Just keep the dog out here. I can’t have a dog hair in the kitchen, can I?” He stepped away from her, pausing to flip on the lights in the dining room. “I was just making myself some dinner. You can join me.”
“I’m vegetarian,” she called after him as he disappeared into the kitchen. She kissed Shakti’s head and the puppy thumped her tail against Jess’s hip.
The man returned carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. He set them on a table near the window that faced the water wheel, its old boards passing the glass in slow motion. “You’re in luck. I made black bean burritos.” He fixed his gaze on Jess with an intensity she had never encountered before. “Relax,” he said. “Have some wine.” As he turned to go back into the kitchen, he stopped and faced her again. “I forget my manners sometimes. I’m Tyler Cross, owner and chef at the Water Wheel.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jess smiled without the nervous panic in her eyes. “Jessica Vernon, ruh-writer,” she stuttered. “And Shakti, puppy.”
“Nice to meet you, Jessica Vernon, ruh-writer. I’ll be right back. Pour the wine, would you?”
Jess tethered Shakti to a table leg, then opened a bottle of shiraz and gazed around the dining room. It had been a couple of years since she was last in the café, and it had changed. It was hipper, artsy, without the comfy-cozy feeling it had last time she’d been in. The bluebells were hung with paintings and photographs by local artists, each with a price tag. Jess sipped her wine as she went around the small dining room, checking out the local artisan’s wares. Lots of landscapes and local interest stuff. She supposed she’d see much more of that in the years to come. A display of pottery sat near the cash register. Jess picked up a bowl and admired the glaze.
“That’s Beckett’s stuff.”
She spun a little too quickly. “Oh?” She watched the glass in her hand, the wine sloshing around the bowl just shy of pouring over the lip. “Who’s Beckett?”
Tyler put two plates on the table. “Local potter. He’s got the old livery by the river.”
“I think I saw him this afternoon when I drove into town.” Jess set the pot down. “Can I do anything to help?”
“Take a seat.” Tyler disappeared again and returned with a basket of chips and dish of salsa.
Shakti snoozed under the table while they took their first bites.
“Oh my…” Jess said. “This is fantastic.”
Tyler smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing, and he looked for the first time genuinely happy to have Jess’s company. “So, where’s your new place?”
“Out Ha-yoog Drive.”
“Howg. I’m pretty sure it’s pronounced howg.”
“Really?”
“Some Norwegian farmer’s name.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Just shy of a year.”
Jess sipped her wine—it was well-paired with the grilled vegetables and black beans—and glanced around the café. “I like what you’ve done with this place.”
Tyler gave her a doubtful look.
“Really. Before it was…cozy. More like a tea room than a gathering spot.”
“Thank you. I happen to agree with you.”
Shakti started paddling her feet and then suckled, her tongue curled between her teeth, its pink tip sticking out to cup the teat in her dream.
“So you’re a ruh-writer?”
Jess felt herself blush, something she was more susceptible to while drinking. She refilled her glass anyway. “I just left a job as a data analyst in Minneapolis. I’m going to try my hand at the artist’s life. It’s all so new…”
“I get it. I did something similar last year. Only I’m a ruh-restaurateur.”
Jess raised her glass. “To starting a new life.”
“In Skoghall, no less.” They clinked glasses and drank to each other.
After a quiet moment, Jess asked, “Am I crazy?”
Tyler laughed from deep in his throat. “Yes. But I think if you want to be happy, you have to risk being crazy.”
“Do you like living here?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
“No, it isn’t.” Jess pushed a few stray beans onto a chip topped with salsa, then put it into her mouth. She looked at her empty plate and shook her head. “I was starving.”
“You’re welcome.” Tyler’s eyes sparked with pleasure. It seemed Jess’s unexpected company had worked out for both of them. “Now, look,” he said, “if I don’t say I love it here, you’ll feel bad about this move, and what you need now is to feel good about it.”
“Okay.” Jess waved her hand in the air. “First tell me you love Skoghall. Then tell me the truth.”
“I love Skoghall.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“I do like it here, but the locals are harder to get to know than you’d think. I mean, it’s pretty insider-outsider around here.”
“So even after a year…even after a year as the owner of the local watering hole,” Jess glanced at the water wheel’s shadow moving across the dark window, “you still don’t feel like one of the gang?”
“Precisely.” Tyler ran a hand over his head, pushing his hair away from his brow. Jess noticed a jagged scar near his hairline, still pink and raised. “And you get points for the watering hole remark.”
“Thank you.” She couldn’t help being pleased with herself. “We’ll just have to do something about that insider thing.” Her brow creased as she considered asking about the scar, as well as what to do about fitting in, premature as it was for either question.
“A go-getter. I like that. You let me know what you come up with and we’ll get the cool kids to take notice of Tyler and Jess.”
“To the new kids.” They toasted themselves in merry camaraderie.
Chapter Two
Jess had never left Main Street on the many times she’d passed through Skoghall. She had no idea how many houses were in the village proper. She didn’t know if there were children in town, where they went to school, or if there was a doctor anywhere. She parked
in front of the hardware store, which was one of three shops in the old-west-style building, and looked up and down the street. A couple sat on the front porch of the Inn, a two-suite B & B next to the antique store across the street, sipping coffee. They were the only visible sign of life in the picturesque village.
She stuck her head in the door. “Do you mind if I bring my dog in with me?”
The man behind the counter turned to face her. He looked familiar, though she didn’t know why. His blond hair had been tied back in a nub of a ponytail and he rubbed his goatee as he looked her over. She raised Shakti a little higher in her arms. “Cute,” he said, sounding unimpressed.
Jess decided that was a yes. “Thanks.” She set Shakti down, looping the leash over her wrist, and stepped the rest of the way into the shop. “I have a big list. Can you help me?”
“Sure.” He came around the counter looking only mildly put-out.
Jess decided to be cheerful since he was probably a local and anyone who worked at the hardware store could prove essential to her. “Keens,” she said, looking at his feet and then her own. “Aren’t they great?”
“Great.”
Shakti found something under the edge of a display and dropped to her side. She began pawing at the lip of the lowest shelf while trying to shove her nose under it. Jess rolled her eyes and scooped up her dog. “I need some light fixtures, paint, bulbs, a plunger, something to get rust stains off porcelain…”
“Slow down. What’s all this for?”
“My house.” Jess realized she sounded acidic, but she was close to telling this guy with his ponytail nub and goatee he liked to rub so much that she could just as easily find her way to the Home Depot in Red Wing.
“Are you planning to change out light fixtures yourself?”
“Yes.” Whatever was under that shelf was calling to Shakti. Jess gave up and set the puppy down again. She immediately went back to pawing and snorting at the space under the shelf.
The Murder in Skoghall (Illustrated) (The Skoghall Mystery Series Book 1) Page 2
