A Story to Kill

by Lynn Cahoon

  Then she turned and ran into her house, up the three flights of stairs and into her office, shutting the door behind her. When she’d caught her breath, she stood at the end window and watched him work, willing him not to look up so she wouldn’t get caught.

  A knock came at the door. “Cat, you want some lunch?” Shauna rarely came into the office if the door was closed, assuming Cat was writing, unless she was dropping off coffee or food.

  Which she should be doing, rather than watch the way Seth’s muscles rippled in the sun, especially after he surrendered to the heat and stripped off the T-shirt to the tank underneath. “I’m not hungry right now,” she called back.

  Well, she was hungry, just not for the soup and sandwich Shauna had prepared.

  Chapter 2

  “You knew.” Cat watched as her uncle stirred three teaspoons of sugar into his coffee. He reached for a fourth time, but she moved the sugar bowl out of his reach.

  Uncle Pete sighed, then sipped his coffee, wincing at the bitterness that he couldn’t possibly taste with all the sugar in the cup. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “Really, you want to play dumb?” She sipped her own coffee. “Fine. Seth Howard. You knew he was the handyman Shauna had hired.”

  “Guilty as charged. But in my defense, there is only one handyman in town, so it wasn’t much of a leap.” Uncle Pete shrugged. “So did he get you all ready for the arrivals today?”

  Seth had worked long hours every day since he’d started. Luckily, Cat had been able to hole up in her office for most of that time. And she’d even got a little bit of writing done. Her deadline was fast approaching, and she wasn’t nearly as close to done as she wanted to be on the latest book. However, she hadn’t been able to avoid running into him in the kitchen several times. Shauna had started teasing her when she’d grab coffee and disappear, if Seth happened to be getting a drink—or worse, chatting with Shauna.

  “The rooms are ready. I still want to remodel the attic into a library sitting area, but I’m sure Seth has other commitments.” Or at least she hoped that was true. She needed time without worrying about running into him around the next corner all day long.

  Shauna set a basket of muffins on the table and joined them. “Actually, he doesn’t, so he wants to sit down with you on Monday and talk about what you want done upstairs. I said bookshelves, a couple built-in desks, and a window seat under that grand stained-glass window in front.”

  “Well, then there’s no need for me to talk to him. You seem to have it handled.” Cat hadn’t meant for the words to come out as bitter as they sounded.

  Shauna tore apart a banana nut muffin and buttered the insides keeping her gaze on the food. “I’m not playing in your backyard, Cat. I have no interest in the man. Although, he is fine to look at.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cat grabbed a muffin and mirrored Shauna’s actions.

  Shauna turned to Uncle Pete. “Has she always been a big fat liar?”

  He was busy with his own muffin. “Pretty much, especially when it came to that boy. You wouldn’t believe the places I found them during their high school years. Windows in that Camaro of his were always steamed up by the time I’d see the car parked on some back road.”

  “You know I’m right here, listening to all of this, right?” Cat focused on a drop of melted butter that was just about to drip off the muffin. “I’m not afraid of meeting with the man. I just have a lot of work to do, especially since we’ll have guests coming in today.”

  This was the opening session of the writer’s retreat, and she’d planned to hold one a month for the first year. Then she’d reevaluate the venture. The next three months’ sessions were already starting to fill. And that was with little-to-no advertising. Writers wanted a place to get away from their daily lives and just write. But if the Warm Springs Writer’s Retreat got any more popular, Cat would be the one needing a space to hide.

  “You don’t have to do anything except eat breakfast with the group and take them to the library to set up their passes,” Shauna pointed out. “I’m handling all the guest-services stuff, like more towels and Wi-Fi access problems. That’s why you hired me, right? To be the concierge so you could still put in your word count during the retreat week?”

  “Well, that and your mad cooking skills.” Cat took another muffin, smiling at her friend. “I give up. What time am I supposed to meet with Seth?”

  “Two o’clock. I wanted you to be back from the library and have time to do your hair and makeup before he arrived.” Shauna ducked as Cat threw the muffin at her. “Seriously, you have to lighten up. I haven’t had this much fun teasing you since you arrived in LA and thought you were drinking at a straight bar.”

  “I liked that bar. Everyone was very nice.” Cat smiled. “Besides, I wasn’t looking to hook up. I just wanted a drink at the end of the day.”

  “That’s why you go to a place with a good Irish name. O’Malley’s was just down the street.” Shauna examined the caught muffin, pulling it open for the steam to rise before she added butter. “What about you, Pete? What’s your poison?”

  “Beer. Draft, if possible.” Uncle Pete laughed. “A small-town police chief doesn’t get to sit in any kind of establishment like that for very long or very often before tongues start wagging. I kind of like my job, so I tend to only keep a six-pack in the fridge.”

  “Tell us your favorite brand, and we’ll have a supply over here, too. That way you can say you were just visiting your niece.” Cat sipped her coffee. This was nice. Quiet, peaceful Sunday morning chat with her two favorite people.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m just as good with a glass of sun tea these days as a beer.” Uncle Pete stood, adjusting the belt around his waist. He carried all the normal police gear—gun, handcuffs, nightstick, pepper spray—but Cat didn’t think he’d used any of the tools for years. Aspen Hills tended to be pretty quiet. Whether that was because of the small-town atmosphere or her uncle’s evenhanded reign over the enforcement of law for the last twenty years, she didn’t know. However, she suspected it was the latter. Uncle Pete would be missed when he decided to retire.

  “Speaking of small-town gossip, I guess I better get going. You don’t want your neighbors thinking something’s wrong over here.” He looked at Shauna. “You mind if I take one of these for the road? They are twice as good as the ones they sell in the bakery down the street.”

  Shauna blushed and grabbed a to-go box. “Take two. I’m making a couple more batches today so when the guests arrive, they can have a treat.”

  “Speaking of our guests, we need to make a plan for today.” Cat pulled out a notebook and glanced through the arrival times of the five retreaters. “Looks like we’ll have to make two airport runs.”

  “I told you I’d handle the runs; you just need to be hanging out in the main living room from six to nine so you can deal with any issues while I’m out.” Shauna’s lips curved into a grin. “You’ll like it. You can talk your writer-geek stuff and actually have someone who understands what you’re saying.”

  Uncle Pete chuckled and kissed Cat on the head. “See you later, pumpkin.”

  After he’d left, Cat pulled out her paper planner and went over the next week. “Still, I want to go over everything. I need the retreat to be a success. You know one of the guests is Tom Cook, a bestselling thriller author. I have no idea why he decided to come here. I read he owns an apartment in The Dakota, where he writes.”

  “Maybe he wanted a change of scenery from NYC. Or maybe,” Shauna’s eyes widened, “he’s setting his new book in Colorado. This might be a research trip for him.”

  Cat nodded thoughtfully. “I hadn’t considered that.” She went back to her list. “The rest of the group is unpublished. We have two sisters writing romance, a graduate student from Covington who is working on her thesis, and a guy who just marked fiction on his questionnaire. Kind of a mixed bag, but maybe Tom will be willing to share his jour
ney during one of the dinners. I’ll have to pull him aside and ask.”

  Shauna picked up her cup and refilled it at the pot. “These muffins aren’t going to make themselves. I’m making a batch with pumpkin and one with cranberries.” She started prepping her workstation with the ingredients for the recipes.

  Cat glanced over the weekly schedule they’d printed out for the guests and made some notes in her calendar to remind her to attend at least some of the events. And Seth on Monday. No good could come of his hanging around. She realized she hadn’t asked Uncle Pete if Seth was married or even dating. She’d been so busy denying her attraction, she’d missed the opportunity to be nosy. Now it would look like she was interested.

  Even though she definitely was not.

  Okay, so the word was more like slightly. Or even probably. Who was she kidding? She wanted the guy. Wanting isn’t needing, she reminded herself. Her body surged in disagreement. She closed her calendar with a snap, refilled her coffee cup, and headed upstairs to work on her book. Two, maybe three, hours of glorious nothing to do but write.

  And think about Seth.

  She turned on her computer and pulled out the file where she kept her working notes.

  *

  A knock pulled her out of the story of Kori, and her other-worldly friends. She loved making up the High School for the Special, which could mean the kid was a shapeshifter, werewolf, or even a witch, like Kori. Since her folks had never explained her special powers, Kori saw her new world differently. A feeling Cat could relate to, especially recently.

  Shauna peeked around the door. “Hey, I don’t want to bother you, but you’ve been up here for hours. I have a potato soup on the stove with bread bowls in the oven, warming. I figured some of the guests may be hungry when they arrive.”

  Cat hit the save button and turned around. “Sorry, Kori’s getting ready for the prom. Of course, she’s not sure who she’s attending with yet.”

  “Oh, the growing pains of high school. I still can’t believe you want to write about that time. I kissed the ground on the day I graduated and never looked back.” Shauna leaned against the door, her jacket on and the keys to the SUV in her hand.

  “I guess I want to rewrite the ending. Although I have to admit, for the most part, I loved high school.” Cat turned off the computer and stood and stretched, rubbing a spot on her left shoulder that always burned after a long writing session. “I suppose I should get ready to play the hostess. Do I have time for a shower?”

  “If you promise to eat first.” Shauna checked her watch. “See you in just over an hour. I checked the airline, and the romance sisters’ flight is on time. Sara, the grad student, called earlier, and she will be here at seven to check in. And that leaves the two men to arrive on the six thirty flight coming out of Chicago.”

  Cat walked downstairs with her and stopped at the kitchen. “I’ll see you soon. I’ll be reading something appropriately literary in the living room when you arrive.”

  “As long as it’s not a comic book, I think we’re good.” Shauna waved and disappeared out the back door.

  Pouring the warm soup into a bread bowl, Cat sat at the table and made a quick to-do list for the week. Writing the words meet with Seth made her think about the time they’d all jumped into his Camaro and driven to Denver to take their SATs. Five kids, all with big dreams. Everyone but her and Seth wanting to score high enough to earn scholarships to the bigger schools, farther away. Cat had always wanted to attend Covington. And Seth, he wanted to join the army, just like his dad.

  Funny how memories just hit sometimes. Cat drew a (bad) version of the attic, then started making plans on how she wanted it to look. When she’d finished the soup, she closed the notebook and put it in the kitchen desk’s top drawer. Then she went upstairs to her room to shower and change. Time to turn into someone else.

  *

  Rose and Daisy, the romance sisters, turned down the soup when they arrived, asking instead for a glass of wine. As they settled into the plush sofa near the fire, Rose started telling Cat about her work in progress. “I guess you would call it modern historical. I mean, really, how many dukes could there be in Regency England? I’m focused on the post–World War II years and am looking forward to working in the Hemingway papers.”

  “Well, I hope there’s room for at least one more,” her sister snapped. “My love is Regency. I adore all the gowns and parties and well-mannered men. Well, for the most part.” The gray-haired woman winked at Cat. “I have to admit, my stories can get a bit racy.”

  “I’m sure you’ll both love using Covington’s library. The campus is one of the oldest west of Denver.” Cat heard the bell on the front door jingle. “Hold on, that might be another one of our group.”

  A young woman, her long blond hair pulled back into a braid, stood at the reception desk. She had a suitcase in one hand, and a laptop bag swung over her shoulder. “You must be Sara. I can check you into your room now, or we have some creamy loaded potato soup in fresh baked bread bowls available for a quick dinner if you’d rather eat something.”

  The girl shook her head and checked an incoming text. She sat her suitcase down and keyed in a response. “Sorry, I don’t have a lot of time. I have a meeting with my advisor tonight. Can I just get my room key so I can drop these off?”

  Cat glanced over the desk and found the envelope with Sara’s name that Shauna had prepared earlier. “No problem. I can take you up there now. But two of the other guests are having a glass of wine in the living room. Would you like to meet them?”

  Shaking her head, Cat could almost hear the girl’s silent sigh. “I really need to run to the campus. I’m going to be late as it is.” She grabbed the envelope and looked at the writing. “Room 204? Up these stairs?”

  “Yep, right on your left when you get to the second floor. Can I help with your bags?” Cat mused that either she was bad at this checkin thing, or Sara wasn’t getting the point of a retreat.

  “Nope, I’m good. What time do I have to be back?” She paused at the foot of the stairs, waiting for Cat’s answer.

  “The schedule for the week is in your envelope. Breakfast is from six to nine, whenever you’re hungry. Then we’ll go to the library at ten, but I guess you don’t need to be shown where that is.” Cat smiled, hoping the girl would warm up before the end of the week.

  “No, I mean tonight. What time do you lock the doors?” This time, Sara rolled her eyes in frustration at Cat’s lack of understanding.

  “We lock up when we go to bed, but the envelope has a security passcode that you can key into the box to the left of the front door. That will let you in. If you have any problems, push the intercom and we’ll come down.”

  Sara turned and sprinted up the stairs. Cat returned to the living room where Rose and Daisy looked up expectantly.

  “Is Mr. Cook here?” Rose poured a second glass of wine, her hand shaking a little as she waited for Cat’s answer.

  Cat sank into her chair. “Nope. That was Sara Laine. She’s not going to be joining us this evening.”

  “Oh.” Rose’s disappointment showed on her face. “So Tom Cook is attending this retreat right?”

  Oh no, a diehard fan. Cat knew she needed to nip this fangirl moment in the bud before the author got here or he’d be overrun with Rose’s questions and attention. “He is, but remember, the purpose of the retreat is to allow the participants time to write away from their normal world. I’m sure he’s going to be just as focused on his work in progress as you will be.”

  Daisy poked her sister. “I told you not to get your hopes up. Besides, we should see him at the group activities. I’m sure he’d sign a book for you then.”

  Cat smiled at the other sister. Thank God she had an ally in the discussion. “Exactly. So let’s get back to your writing. What made you choose to write romance?”

  Daisy took a sip of her wine, then set the glass down. “I like sex.”

  Chapter 3

  The flight from Ch
icago had been delayed, so it was after eleven by the time the final two guests arrived. Cat had stayed up to wait for the group, but Rose and Daisy had retired to their room hours before. Sara still hadn’t returned. Cat glanced out at the darkening night wondering where the young woman really was at this late hour. “A meeting with your thesis advisor? I don’t think so.”

  When the lights from the SUV flashed by the window, Cat went to the front desk to get the men’s envelopes ready. She’d kept the soup on low, but turned off the oven, not wanting the bread to dry out. The men followed Shauna into the lobby area and grabbed their room keys, rejecting the offer of a meal or even a drink. Tom Cook looked like he’d been sleeping on the plane, his hair doing rooster tails where he’d settled into the headrest of the seat. The other man, Billy Williams, looked the opposite. Wired, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

  “You must get a lot of ribbing about your name.” Cat smiled when she handed him the envelope.

  “Why?” Billy’s tone was flat, and something in his glance made the hair on the back of Cat’s neck stand up. The guy was strange enough to be a character in the mystery books he claimed to write.

  “Two first names? William Williams?” When the guy shook his head, she continued. “No matter. Are you sure I can’t get you anything before you retire?”

  “No.” Tom Cook was already heading upstairs with his bags. Billy spun on his heel and followed.

  Shauna waited until we heard the two doors close upstairs. “So that was weird, right?”

  “A little.” Cat closed the cabinet over the lobby desk and locked it. “Just wait until I tell you about Sara. These three make the romance sisters seem tame.”

  *

  Cat’s alarm went off at five a.m. Even though she trusted Shauna to get the breakfast buffet set out and ready for their guests, she felt a responsibility to make sure everything went smoothly. Just this first time.

  Who was she kidding? Cat never slept past six even on weekends. If she wasn’t needed in the kitchen, she’d spend the time in her office, working on her manuscript. She quickly showered and dressed for the day, then headed downstairs, following the smell of vanilla bean coffee.