by Lynn Cahoon
She glanced through the table and found a journal and a pen. The handwriting was scratchy, but from the last notation, he had written in it nightly, recording the events of the day. She flipped through a few pages. Records of goat births and deaths, money earned at the farmers’ market selling cheese, visitors to the farm, and a list of his employees and their weekly pay. A record of his life. On a shelf, under the drawer, a stack of identical journals sat.
Angie grabbed two of the newest journals and carried them to the kitchen. She’d put the food away and leave the cabin with her find, for now. They might not have all the answers, but the journals would at least give her some idea of what was going through the guy’s mind in the last days of his life.
She put the food containers in the fridge along with the half gone iced tea containers. Then she tucked the journal into her basket under the table cloth. Pausing before she left the cabin, she took out her phone and went through all the rooms, taking several pictures of everything, including the bathroom and the medicine cabinet. She might not have access to the actual cabin again, but she could study the photos more closely when she got home.
Glancing around the living room, her eyes fell on the computer. There were answers there, she could feel it. She just couldn’t get past the sign on screen. No use worrying about something you can’t fix, her Nona always said.
Dom sat on the porch, looking in through the screen door. She’d left the front door open and told him to stay, but she hadn’t thought he would. If he had wandered, the goats were down on the ridge pasture and out of his eyesight so she had assumed he wouldn’t go far.
Too late, she remembered Mildred and wondered what she’d been looking for in the cabin. Could it have only been the scarf? Turning around, she debated going back in, but saw Will and Ian heading her way. She plastered on a smile and left the cabin calling out to the guys. “Good news, the fridge was clean. Tomorrow’s lunch will be waiting for you.”
Ian took her basket from her and walked her to the car. “I wouldn’t have sent you in there if I hadn’t cleaned it out last week.”
She let Dom in the backseat as Ian put the basket in the hatchback. “I figured that was you. What, do you like to see me cringe?”
Will was on the porch now, apparently waiting for Ian. She leaned against the car and lowered her voice. “He’s watching us.”
Ian chuckled and put his hand on her arm. Chills filled her body. “You’re right. He thinks we make a good couple. So let’s pretend for a minute that we are. Did you find anything?”
“I’m not sure. The computer is password protected. Have you got any idea what his password was?”
“Not a clue.” Ian smiled like they were talking about future dates and not a dead man’s belongings. “Anything else?”
“Did you find a cell phone? Reana said she left one with him.” She looked at the rustic cabin without even a television. “Could he even use a cell phone?”
“Maybe she pre-programmed her number in the phone. But no, Allen’s guys didn’t find a cell here in the cabin, nor in the barn. You would have thought he would have been carrying it, but he wasn’t.”
“Or Reana was lying about the phone.” Angie shrugged. “Not like that hasn’t happened before.”
“Anything else we should talk about?”
She wondered how much she could really trust him and shook her head. If she found something in the journal, she’d mention it then. “He must have loved his wife. He still had all her things.”
“I know. He talked about her a lot when we sat and watched the sun set over the ridge. It must be nice having such good memories.” Now Ian was looking into her eyes and the shiver went all the way from where his hand caressed her hair to her toes. “Nothing else?”
She decided to change the subject. “You’re good at this fake relationship thing.”
He smiled and stepped away. “Who said I was faking?”
She stood there a minute, dumbfounded at his words. When she got her emotions under control, she faked a smile and climbing into the car, rolling down her window. She waved and called out her goodbyes to the men and slowly eased down the driveway. When they were on the road, she glanced in the rearview mirror at Dom. The dog was watching her.
“Okay, maybe you were right. It was a date.”
Dom seemed to grin, then lay down on the seat and closed his eyes. He was taking advantage of the short car ride to nap before he had to take up his role as the house watchdog again. Rough life, Angie thought as she navigated the country roads home. No worries and no dead man’s journals to read and interpret.
She had a lot of work to do when she got home and none of it dealt with the restaurant she was opening in less than two weeks.
CHAPTER 14
Angie made a pot of coffee as soon as she got home and took the journals into her own living room and reading spot. Hours later, when her stomach growled, she stopped to make a quick dinner and feed her circus. Dom looked up from his spot near the wood stove and followed her into the kitchen, expecting food.
Thirty minutes later, she was back to reading the journals. She’d found what she assumed was Precious’s birthdate and wrote it down for future reference. Did people celebrate goats’ birthdays? She knew Dom’s birthday too and the dates were just weeks apart.
She needed to get the restaurant going, she had way too much time on her hands if she was thinking about things like this.
She went back to the journals and worked until Dom nudged her leg. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was past midnight. She put her notebook down and put a bookmark in the journal she’d been reading. The man had kept notes about everything. Even when Reana had come by to offer him money for the land. Date, what she offered and what she’d said the new owners were going to do with the land. And surprisingly, Mildred’s name showed up in the journal a few times a month. The woman must have been closer to Gerald than she wanted people to know. Or she was really persistent about Moss Farm joining her cheese commission as a member. One more thing to talk to her about on Thursday, if the woman showed up this time.
Angie stood, stretched and headed upstairs to her bedroom. Tomorrow was a busy day with Dom’s visit to the vet clinic—and her discussion with Kirk Hanley about his strange behavior. She started to think about how she was going to ask why the guy was being such a weirdo when sleep took over and she fell into a dreamless slumber.
Her alarm woke her the next morning and by the time she’d eaten breakfast and gotten her chores done, it was only eight. Dom’s appointment was at ten so she had some time.
She grabbed her last loaf of homemade bread and cut it in half. Wrapping it up in cellophane, she put it and a jar of the cherry jam in a bag. Then, after closing the door on Dom so he wouldn’t try to break through the screen door and follow her, she walked across the street to Mrs. Potter’s house.
She knocked at the kitchen door and waited. Erica swung open the door and Angie could smell the bacon frying on the stove. “Hey neighbor, come on in. We were just getting breakfast on the table. Have you eaten?”
“I did about an hour ago. I wouldn’t mind some coffee though. I wanted to stop by and give you this.” She handed the bag to the young woman.
Glancing inside, Erica pulled out the jar of jam. “Totally cool. I had jam on the shopping list. And fresh bread. I think I’ll make Granny a slice right now.”
“You’ll make me a slice of what?” Mrs. Potter came into the kitchen using her walker. “Oh, Angie, dear. I didn’t know you were here. Come in and sit down.”
Angie waited for Mrs. Potter to get settled at the table, then joined her.
Erica brought them both a cup of coffee, sitting a tiny creamer pitcher in front of her grandmother. “Sugar?” She asked and looked at Angie.
Angie shook her head. “Black’s fine.”
“Well, my dear, what brings you over besides
trying to fatten up an old woman?” Mrs. Potter sipped her now light brown coffee.
“No small talk today, huh?” Angie grinned. “Actually, I do have a question. And I don’t want you to get upset.”
“No worries. There are few things in this world that get my heart racing anymore. Including that cute man who keeps showing up at your door.” Mrs. Potter curved her lips into a sly smile. “Don’t think I don’t notice when you have gentlemen callers. Your Nona was my best friend. I told her I’d keep an eye out for her.”
“Ian and I are…” Angie paused wondering how to actually end that statement, especially after yesterday’s picnic. Her face burned at the thought of their conversation by the car. “We’re friends. For now, that’s all.”
“If you say so dear.” Mrs. Potter patted her hand. “Now that I’ve got you blushing, what did you want to ask me?”
Angie sipped her coffee, stalling for time. Finally, when both Erica and Mrs. Potter were staring at her, she asked the question. “Why do you think Gerald Moss killed your sister? I mean, I can’t find anything about her murder in the local paper archives and I would think a murder would have shown up at least as a sideline.”
“I never meant to say he killed her. But the man was responsible for Sophia’s death, as much as he would have been if he was the one to put a knife to her throat.” She looked at Erica who was standing by the stove. “Grandchild, come over and sit with us. I’m only telling this story once and you have a right to know about your great aunt too.”
Erica turned off the stove and lifted the bacon onto a paper towel-covered plate. She put the plate in the oven and turned it onto a low heat. Then she filled her own cup of coffee and sat down. “You said your sister died in New York City. That she was mugged on the street.”
“And that’s true. But I never told anyone why she was there.” Mrs. Potter shook her head. “Not even Mama and Papa knew how Sophia got there. Papa would have killed him if he’d known.”
Confused, Angie glanced at Erica who looked as lost as she felt. “Maybe if you start at the beginning.”
“Of course, that’s always the best way.” Mrs. Potter stirred her coffee for the third time. “We were seniors when Sophia started high school. She wasn’t just pretty, she was like Erica, stunning. All the boys were trying to get me to introduce them to her, but Papa had a strict no dating until you turned sixteen rule. You can’t stop love though, and she fell hard for Gerald Moss.”
Angie thought about the room filled with his deceased wife’s items and realized the man was a romantic.
“They started sneaking out. Seeing each other after school, after her drama club meetings, where ever they could spare a second. She turned sixteen the summer between freshman and sophomore years and Gerald started courting her officially. My parents, they were skeptical, but since Sophia was determined, they let Gerald into our lives. I had met Mr. Potter by then and we were planning our wedding. Sophia’s junior year, I was a new bride and didn’t have time to listen to my sister’s crazy dreams about making it big in the theatre.” Mrs. Potter paused and took a sip of coffee. “I always wonder if I’d been a better sister back then, if things would have been different.”
“You can’t change the past.” Angie said before she realized she was going to say anything.
Mrs. Potter smiled, her thin lips disappearing completely. “Margaret always said the same thing when I’d bring up Sophia.”
“Go on Granny, what happened?” Erica was entranced with the story, Angie could see it on her face.
“After the fall production, she’d gotten a letter from a theatre in the city. She had an audition for a really small part. I guess her drama teacher knew someone in the business. So she took off to try to make it big.” Mrs. Potter shook her head. “We found out later that he’d paid for her bus ticket there and back. She was only supposed to be gone a few days, but when she got to the city, she was attacked. They sent her body home on the train.”
“Did they catch her killer?” Angie swallowed hard. She hadn’t expected this.
Mrs. Potter nodded. “Some guy she’d given a dollar to as soon as she got off the bus. He’d followed her and dragged her into an alley. He wanted the rest of the money he’d seen in her purse. He swore in court he was high and didn’t know what he was doing. But he was still convicted.”
“Gerald must have felt responsible.” Angie shook her head. “He loved her and supported her dream only to have it kill her.”
“He did. He sobbed at the funeral, but then I made a scene and told him he might as well have killed Sophia. I was hurting too, but looking back on it, it wasn’t my place to put more guilt on him.” Mrs. Potter shook her head. “We never talked again. He married a few years later to a woman who’d gone to Nampa High. And we both went on with our lives.”
“Oh Granny, I’m so sorry.” Erica patted her grandmother’s wrinkled hand.
Angie saw Mrs. Potter squeeze Erica’s hand quickly, then she lifted her cup and took a sip of her coffee. “What’s done is done. Just make sure you don’t hold on to something all your life. Forgiveness can’t be given once the door is shut forever. I wish I’d told him I was sorry for what I’d said.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Erica protested. “She was your sister…”
“Get me some more coffee dear and let’s put this aside. An old woman can only live in the past for so long before it starts to swallow her alive.” She stared into her cup like it held the answers to long held slights. A smile gently curved her lips. “Gerald Moss was always a ladies’ man. He could charm a snake out of its den.”
“I’m sure he loved your sister.” Angie wasn’t sure how to keep the conversation going and more importantly, if she really wanted to know the answers. “What else did you know about Mr. Moss? Any rumors lately? Was he dating anyone now?”
“Gerald? At his age?” Mrs. Potter giggled. “I think he might have wanted someone around to keep him from being lonely, but dear, the man was in his eighties. Of course, you never know, right?”
“I didn’t mean,” Angie felt her face burning. “I’m not sure what I’m asking. I just don’t understand why someone would murder him.”
“Sometimes things just happen.” Mrs. Potter spread jam on the toast Erica had just set in front of her. “Of course, there were rumors that Moss Farm held a treasure, but I’m sure that was probably just gossip.”
“Treasure?” Angie perked up. Could someone have been hoping to get rich off Old Man Moss’s land in an unexpected way?
“Like I said, silly gossip. The kind of thing kids make up when they’re bored.”
After a few more tries, Angie gave up. If Mrs. Potter knew anything more about Gerald Moss or the so-called treasure on his land, it had been lost years ago. She promised to come by if anything came to mind and with that promise Angie headed home.
She checked the time. Dom had his appointment at ten. She could head into town early and check in with Felicia, but instead, she sat down at the table and made notes about what Mrs. Potter had said.
She didn’t have a next step. Maybe there was an online investigation course. She grinned at the thought. Maybe it would have a cheat sheet on who to talk to when an old man is pushed off a cliff.
At a standstill, she put Gerald’s murder out of her mind and took out the file on Wednesday’s training schedule. This made sense. This she could work with and plan and actually complete something. Before she knew it, it was time to leave for Dom’s appointment.
She loaded him into the car and drove into town. Fifteen minutes early, she was surprised to find the door to the vet clinic locked. Peering in the window, she didn’t see anyone at the desk. The sign on the door said they opened at ten, so she sat with Dom on the bench outside the building.
Angie dug out her phone and dialed Felicia. When the call was answered, she asked. “Hey. What are you doing?”
&
nbsp; “Eating breakfast. I didn’t get in until late. Did you know there’s a cave out in the middle of the freaking desert here?”
Angie stroked Dom’s head as she talked. “Of course, it’s where the kids went to party when I was in high school. Like the cops couldn’t find them.”
“I think they still use it for that. There were a lot of beer cans around and a few unmentionables. But the cave is amazing. Mike said there is an underground river farther in.” Felicia yawned. “We didn’t get back into town until two. I’m beat.”
“Well, just make sure everything’s ready for Wednesday. I’d like this dry run to go without a hitch.” Angie watched a woman walk from around the back of the building where there must have been employee parking and toward her. “I think the clinic is opening. I’ve got to go.”
“Wait, you’re outside on the street and you call me instead of knocking at my door?”
Angie could see Felicia peeking out from the apartment window across the street. She waved at her friend. “I didn’t know if you were awake.”
“You were afraid I wasn’t alone,” Felicia countered. “Geez Angie, I’m not a total idiot.”
“I didn’t say that. I just think you deserve privacy too. Hey, after Dom’s appointment, I’ll come over and update you on the Mrs. Potter story. It’s a doozy.”
“Wait, what? You found out about Moss and her sister? You could have led with that.” Felicia leaned on the window frame and watched her.
Even across the street, Angie could tell her friend was put out. “Sorry, gotta go. I’ll talk to you soon.”
She hung up the phone before she could get the lecture on not sharing information and stood when the woman came up to the door and unlocked it. “Good morning.”
The woman smiled down at Dom. “I take it you have an appointment this morning? I didn’t see Kirk’s truck in the back, but maybe he ran to the store. Come on in, you can wait inside. I’ll give him a call.”
“Great.” Angie wanted to get out of Felicia’s sight just in case she came down to grill her about Mrs. Potter. One thing at a time and right now her dog needed his booster shots. Well, that was her story and she wasn’t backing down.
