by Lynn Cahoon
Ian smiled at her, then his smile faded and he stepped back around the counter. “Are you still mad at me?”
“I wasn’t mad at you.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Okay, so maybe I was a little gruff when I saw you at the police station. But I’ve been questioned twice already and before I moved home, I don’t think I ever even talked to a cop.”
“Not even a speeding ticket?” The young man dropped two bags of cheese into the ice and stared at her. “Man, my folks would love you. I’m on number four and if I get another one, I lose my ride.”
“Thom, why don’t you go get that last cooler out of the truck.” Ian looked pointedly at the kid. “I’ll watch the booth until you get back.”
“I was planning on it. Man, you don’t have to get huffy. I was just making conversation with the pretty lady.” Thom walked around them and headed north out of the market aisle.
She glanced after him, then focused on Ian. “I’m surprised you opened the booth. I thought Moss Farm was bankrupt?”
“Now where did you hear that rumor?” He studied her. “You must have been talking to Mildred. She has never learned when to keep her mouth shut.”
“So is it true?” Angie lowered her voice. “She made it seem like I’d be buying my cheese for the restaurant somewhere else soon.”
“I was hoping she’d see her way into granting us a short-term loan. But there are just too many variables. Unless an heir is found sooner than later, I’ll have to go to the court to be made executor. And that might be outside our window to save the place.” Ian stepped closer. “I’d rather that not be made public if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t know anyone to gossip to.” She felt her lips curve. “Except you, of course. Anyway, I came by to let you know I hired a construction crew to set up Precious in the barn. So if you stop by to de-horn her and I’m not home, you’ll find her in there and not in the back yard.”
“I’d forgotten I’d agreed to do that. I’ll pop over tomorrow if that’s okay.” He glanced around the market. “I’ll be here until late and then I’m heading over to Moss Farm to supervise the milking. They like having someone there in charge. It makes them move faster.”
“Stop by around one and I’ll cook dinner. Nona had a fried chicken recipe that I haven’t made in a while.”
“That would be nice.” A silence fell between them.
Angie felt the electricity flowing between them. “I’ll make dinner to pay you back for taking care of Precious, I mean.”
“That’s what I thought.” He glanced around breaking the gaze between them and Angie’s heart rate slowed just a bit. “I need to get busy. I’ll drop off your cheese order on Wednesday morning?”
“I’ll be at the restaurant by six. You can just come in the back door anytime after that.”
He nodded. “I’m an early riser myself.”
As he walked away, Felicia came up to Angie’s side. “He’s hot.”
“He’s a business contact.” Angie kept watching him walk away. She had to admit, he looked as good leaving as coming.
“Whatever. But wipe that drool off your face. I want you to meet the owner of Southside Farms.”
By the end of the afternoon, Angie had all the ingredients for Wednesday’s dry run along with verbal agreements for ongoing suppliers from several of the local farms. Keeping the menu local and seasonal was going to be more work and more coordination than el pescado had been, but it was going to be worth it. Angie dreamed of even having a cooking class on weekend mornings maybe once a month. She put the idea aside. Get the restaurant up and running and maybe in the fall she’d start the classes.
“What are you thinking about?” Felicia asked as they carried their totes stuffed with goodies down Main Street toward the restaurant. “Ian?”
“No. I was not thinking about Ian. If you really want to know, I was thinking about how fun it would be to hold cooking classes at the restaurant one or two mornings a month.” Thank God she hadn’t been thinking about Ian, she wouldn’t have had time to make up a plausible lie. Besides, Felicia seemed to know what she was thinking no matter what was going on.
“It’s a great idea. We can do one during the week for the bored stay at home group and one on Saturday for the high-pressure career gal.” Felicia kept talking about the idea, bringing in more and more ideas as they walked.
A movement from one of the buildings across the street caught Angie’s eye. A man stood in the window of the upstairs apartment, looking down on them. When their eyes met, he moved out of view from the window. Kirk Hanley had told her that he lived in the apartment above his veterinarian clinic. Why was he watching them? Or was he watching Felicia?
“What’s wrong?” Felicia glanced across the street. “Did you miss Dom’s appointment?”
Angie shook her head, not wanting to worry her friend. “No, it’s Monday. I was just thinking about my schedule.”
Felicia held the door open for her. “Are you sure? You seem a little off.”
“I’m fine. Just nervous for opening night. Let’s get these put away and make sure we’re ready for training day. I’d like it to run smoothly for once.”
Felicia flipped on lights. “It’s a good thing if the bad stuff happens on training day. That way we have time to fix the bugs before opening night the next week.”
Angie knew she was right, but for some reason, she had a bad feeling about next week. Not about opening, but something else was bothering her. And until she put her finger on the problem, she wasn’t going to rest easy, not with people watching them and the strange reaction Dom had last night at the farm.
As they unpacked, Angie told Felicia about what had happened when she went out to feed the animals. When she was finished, she asked one question. “Do you think coyotes would come in that far? I know they run the river area, but that’s mostly wildlife reserves and a state park.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask Mrs. Potter if she had trouble before. She’d be the best source,” her voice trailed off. “But we’re not talking to Mrs. Potter until we figure out if she killed Old Man Moss. Geez, sometimes it’s hard to keep all the players straight.”
“Well, the good news is there hasn’t been a murder in River Vista for years so once the sheriff catches this one, we should be good for twenty or thirty years before the next one happens.” Angie folded her tote looking around her new kitchen with what could only be expressed as joy.
“Totally. Too bad it had to happen now, especially since we’re the new kids in town and everyone is watching us, thinking we are bringing our serial killer ways up from California with us.”
Angie’s laughter echoed in the room. “I think they’re more upset we moved here from California than the possibility of us being serial killers. I guess there’s been a mass exodus from the Golden State to Idaho for several years.”
“Probably because of the cheap real estate.” Felicia shrugged. “We came in with cash and a secured business loan. I bet a lot of people come with cash from selling their California homes and can buy almost anything.”
Angie leaned on the expediter table and focused on her friend. “Like a piece of land with a killer view that’s currently home to a goat dairy? Could the answer be that easy?”
“Doesn’t seem like anything is easy here. Hey, I got you something but I left it out in the car. I’ll be right back.” Felicia headed to the back door. When she opened it, Angie saw the note tacked to the door with what looked like a Bowie knife.
“Stop. Go call 911.”
Felicia turned toward her. “What are you talking about?”
“Just step away from the door.” Angie stepped toward the door trying to make out the words. Someone had taped a picture of a large black cat on the page, wrote one word under it, then shoved a knife through the kitty’s heart.
“What does it say?” Felicia’s word
s caught in her throat.
Angie grabbed her cell and took a picture before dialing 911. “Curiosity killed the cat.”
CHAPTER 12
After the Sheriff had left with the note and the knife tucked away in plastic bags and a promise to have an officer walk by more often, Felicia walked Angie to her car. The chatter about plans she had for the restaurant had dried up.
“Maybe someone thinks they’re funny.” Felicia leaned on the car as Angie opened the back and put in the bag with the items she’d bought for home, including another supply of cherries. She would make jam before the supply of cherries went away for the year.
“I don’t know. But I don’t like it. Maybe we should think about a security system.”
“Whoa, what’s this for?” Felicia peeked into the bag labeled Babies, Babies, Babies. “What on earth did you buy there?” She pulled out the lone box. “A baby monitor? Why?”
“You’re going to laugh.” Angie sat on the back of her open hatchback.
“I might not.” Felicia sat next to her, and shrugged. “But I probably will. Besides, I could use a good laugh. That stupid note has me in a funk. Spill, are you stockpiling because your biological clock is ticking?”
“No.” Angie laughed and took the box from her. “Why would you even say that?”
“Because Ian’s a hottie,” they both said together then the two friends burst into laughter. “So if it’s not the biological thing going on, why do you have a baby monitor? Do you have a shower to go to I don’t know about?” Felicia glanced at her phone when it went off, indicating she had a text.
“You can take that if you need to.”
“Nah, I’m just meeting a few people for open bowling tonight in Meridian. You should come.” Felicia slipped the phone in her pocket.
“I’m making jam.” Angie stood and put the box back into the sack.
Felicia jumped up and closed the hatchback. “So why do you have a baby monitor?”
“I’m putting it in the barn to keep an ear out for Precious and Mabel,” Angie added the hen to the list so it wouldn’t look too crazy that she was worried about a baby goat.
Felicia burst out laughing. “That’s so sweet.”
“You mean, that’s so lame.” Angie walked around and opened the driver’s door. “Have fun bowling. Do you want me to drop you back off at the restaurant?”
Felicia came over and stood next to her. “I think I can walk two blocks by myself. Besides, like you said, the serial killer has already taken his once in twenty-year victim.”
“You may not want to count on my theories for your safety. Besides, that note wasn’t just a joke. You know it.” Angie started the car and after saying goodbye to her friend. She wanted to head home to make jam. Again. Hopefully this time she wouldn’t be interrupted by Ian and his bestie, Sheriff Brown. But she still had a meeting with Mildred before she could start the process.
But Angie ended up sitting in the plastic reception chair until almost two.
“I don’t know what happened. She must have run late at the women’s group. I’ve called her several times, but her phone keeps going to voice mail.” The receptionist stood by Angie’s chair. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to reschedule your appointment. I’m locking the doors at two.”
Angie tucked her phone into her purse. “Sure, when can I come back?”
“What about Wednesday? Same time?” The woman walked back to her desk to write down the new appointment in her paper calendar.
Angie shook her head. “Sorry. Wednesday’s totally booked. What about Monday?”
“We’re closed on Mondays and Tuesdays Mildred saves for dairy visits so she’s out in the field that day. I could get you in at ten on Thursday if that will work?”
“Sounds great.” As she walked out the door, Angie wondered if Mildred just didn’t want to talk to her or if she had forgotten about the appointment. Mildred didn’t seem the type to flake out on commission business, so maybe she had realized Angie’s true mission was to get information about Gerald Moss and his relationship to the commission.
* * * *
The jam sat cooling on the counter and Angie was sitting at the table going over her recipes one more time. A knock came at the door and she looked up and saw Erica Potter standing at the door.
“Erica, come on in. What’s going on?”
The young woman came in and gave Dom a hug before sitting down at the table with Angie. “I just came to let you know I’m heading to Boise overnight. We’re going to a concert, then an after party so I’m staying at a friend’s house. Granny says she’ll be fine, but just in case you see something weird, I wanted you to know she’s alone.”
“No worries. Do you want me to take her dinner?” Angie grabbed the iced tea out of the fridge and offered Erica some.
She shook her head. “No, I’m good. And we just ate so Granny should be good until I get back. She only eats toast for breakfast anyway. And she’ll be in bed in a couple of hours. I just worry.”
“Well, don’t tonight. If I see anything weird, I’ll deal with it. And I’ll call her in a couple of hours and make sure she’s okay.” Angie nodded to the jam. “I could drop off some cherry jam for her toast in the morning.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate it.” Erica stood and gave Angie a quick hug. “You’re a good neighbor.”
As she watched the girl make her way back across the road, Angie shook her head. “I’m so not a good neighbor, especially since I’m thinking that girl or her grandmother could have killed a man.”
Dom stood by her side, watching. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was time to feed Precious and Mabel. As she and Dom left the kitchen for the front porch, he didn’t even glance over toward the road. Instead he bee lined to the barn and waited for her at the open door.
“You’re getting the hang of the routine?” She rubbed his soft fur behind his ears as he wagged his tail. She found Mabel already perched on the gate of an empty stall. When Angie threw out some corn, she opened one eye to check on her morning snack and then closed it again. Precious was tucked into the same spot where Angie had found her yesterday. The goat came running when she saw Angie and Dom. This time, Dom let Precious sniff his nose before stepping away. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two were starting to be friends.”
Angie fed the goat, turned on the baby monitor she had set up on a shelf near her pen, and then went outside and closed the door. On really hot summer nights, she might have to leave this open, but she would have tested out the baby monitor by then. Precious was part of her life, she needed to just accept it. Unless the new owner of Moss Farm was a total jerk and insisted she return the goat.
That night she fell asleep with the songs of crickets serenading her from the barn.
A knock on the door early the next morning had Angie scrambling to grab a robe and hurry downstairs. She expected to see Mrs. Potter at her door. Instead, Ian stood there, a bag of donuts in his hand. Self-conscious, she ran her hands over her hair to minimize the bed head.
He smiled. “Sorry I’m early. I’ve been called to Moss Farm this afternoon to do inventory for the court appointed estate executive. I’ve already taken care of Precious.”
“What?” Angie’s brain wasn’t connected yet. She looked at the kitchen wall clock. Ten after five. Way too early for a Sunday. Especially since she’d gotten to bed about one last night after finalizing all her recipes.
“You aren’t much of a morning person, are you?” He opened the door and shoved the bag into her hand. “I’ve got to run. I wanted to honor our agreement to de-horn your goat this morning. Too much longer and it would have been more difficult.”
Angie could smell the yeast and sugar from the donuts. “Thanks.”
“You are most welcome. Go back to bed.” He turned and headed to his car. Angie watched him leave, then a thought struck he
r. She should have offered him coffee at least. “He probably brought donuts to share, not for me to eat alone.”
Dom woofed and watched the car drive away.
“You want out since we’re up anyway?” She looked down at him and got a full-fledged grin in response.
While she was up, she went into the barn to feed. Precious had red-colored goop on her nubs and a full bowl of food. “Ian must have fed you already.”
The goat bleated in affirmation, not seeming to mind the de-horner solution she wore. Mabel scratched at the corn near the door. Angie reached up to turn off the baby monitor, but it was already shut off. Ian must know her little secret. She wondered what kind of mileage he’d get out of that piece of gossip.
“Looks like I didn’t have to get up at all.” She whistled to Dom who was checking out the pasture area. He came running back and followed her into the house where she ignored the donuts and went back upstairs to get another couple of hours.
When she woke a second time, it was the ringing phone that brought her out of a perfectly crazy dream that had her and Ian in a relationship rather than just friends. Angie brushed a hand over her lips, still feeling the kiss between the two of them as her dream had ended. Grabbing the phone, she blurted, “What?”
A minute of silence fell and Angie wondered if they had gotten disconnected. Then a small frail voice asked, “Angie, is that you?”
She sat up in bed. “Mrs. Potter?”
“Sorry. Did I wake you dear?” Mrs. Potter signed. “I’ve been up for hours and was just wondering what that man was doing over at your house this morning. It was very early for a social call and he went into your barn. Things are okay over there, right?”
“Everything’s fine here. How about with you? Are you doing all right with Erica staying overnight with friends?” Angie glanced at her alarm clock. Six fifteen. At least she’d gotten another hour of sleep. Her eyes felt like sandpaper against the morning light.
“Oh, well, then I’ll let you go. I was just worried.”
