Tahoe Blues

by Lane, Aubree

  Cara wanted to call her mom and dad, but she didn’t have a clue how they would take this kind of news. Her mother had been ill and Cara didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her delicate recovery. Throughout her entire life Cara’s dad had been a godsend when her car broke down, or when a pipe broke and needed repaired, but he would be worse than useless dealing with legal issues. The urge to run back into their loving embrace was strong, but Cara held off. She couldn’t go anywhere, and the moment they heard of her predicament, they would insist on coming to Tahoe, and Cara was not equipped to put up with them for the duration.

  Cara rummaged through her cupboards. If she couldn’t go home, she could bring a little bit of home to her. She needed a fix of her grandmother’s minestrone soup. She really wanted some homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies or some fudge, but she didn’t have the right ingredients.

  As Mrs. Duncan Alexander, Cara hadn’t been allowed to cook. The few times she tried to invade the kitchen at the compound, the amicable cook turned irritable and kicked her out.

  Out of desperation Cara looked in the basket Mrs. G. had left on her porch, but the baked goods contents fell short. She wanted the aroma of a simmering pot of soup, or the slow roast of a free-range turkey permeating every inch of her apartment. Her mouth salivated at the thought of pumpkin pie with whipped cream, sweet potatoes glazed with brown sugar, and a green bean casserole.

  Thanksgiving! She needed a Thanksgiving dinner. Cara went to her refrigerator and opened the freezer. She had a bag of frozen green beans, a package of sweet potato fries, and a small marinated turkey breast. No pumpkin pie in sight, but this was a good start.

  She turned her oven on to preheat. Then Cara cut open the packaging of the turkey breast and placed it in the middle of the pan. The thing looked puny in there all by itself, so Cara dumped the green beans and fries in all around it. Her concoction didn’t look all that appetizing, so she went back to the cupboards and gave them another look. She found a can of small whole potatoes and a jar of turkey gravy. She drained the potatoes and added it to the mix. The gravy was poured over the hodgepodge one-dish meal and as soon as it was covered in foil, Cara placed the pan in the oven and hoped for the best.

  Twenty minutes later Cara had the smell she was looking for and was able to relax. She curled up on the couch, and with a pillow clutched to her breast, she was finally able to fall asleep.

  The sound of a buzzer pulled Cara out of her slumber. She blinked several times trying to get her bearings. The buzzer was relentless. It took a few seconds to figure out her dinner was ready. She dragged herself off the couch and wobbled her way to the oven. Through her sleepy haze, she managed to turn off the alarm and pull out the roasting pan. Cara left the meal on top of the stove and crashed back onto the couch.

  Waking naturally several hours later, Cara felt refreshed and ready for the day. It was ten o’clock at night. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn’t had a thing to eat. The scent of her makeshift holiday meal still wafted in around her and once again, Cara headed for the kitchen. She wasn’t sure how long the food had been sitting out and was a bit leery about whether she should eat it.

  When she plucked the foil off the pan, she burned her fingers. Cara grinned from ear to ear at what she saw. The turkey and vegetables looked delicious, and it was still warm because she had failed to turn off the oven. The heat which radiated from it was enough to keep the meal piping hot on the stovetop and, for once, Cara was happy for the grossly out dated and inefficient appliances.

  Against the advice of her attorney and his leg man, Hunter Henderson, who had both advised her to put some distance between herself and anyone who had access to her home, she picked up her phone and called her landlord. “Hi, have you eaten dinner yet?”

  “Cara, it’s really late. I ate hours ago.”

  Undeterred, Cara asked again, “Would you like to keep me company while I eat?”

  She heard Tanner chuckle. “I have a nice bottle of Chardonnay chilling in the fridge. Would you like me to bring it over?”

  “Is it from the Napa Valley?” she teased.

  Tanner laughed. “I don’t know.”

  “Well....bring it anyway. I’ll risk it.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  A minute and a half later Tanner knocked on her door.

  Cara greeted him with two wine glasses in her hand. “Come on in.” She scooped the poultry and veggie aroma up in her hand and waved it under his nose. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

  Her small dining room table had been set for two and a dish of delectable goodness had been placed in the center. “You cooked?” Tanner stretched his neck to look over Cara’s shoulder to get a better look at what was on the platter.

  Dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt the man looked good. He was barefoot and a hint of shampoo smell emanated from his still damp hair. Cara figured he had been out working in the complex during the day and had just recently showered. She nodded her head proudly. “It even tastes good.” She hooked her arm with his, and guided him towards the table.

  He took the wine glasses out of her hand as she took the bottle out of his. “Ah,” she sighed. “It’s from one of my favorite wineries.”

  “Napa Valley?” Tanner asked.

  Cara shook her head. “This one is from a vineyard near Geyserville. It’s a little closer to the ocean, and the marine layer gives the grape a slightly different nuance.”

  He straightened his back impressed by her vast knowledge of the California wine industry.

  Cara hadn’t told him that she was sole heir to a small vineyard and winery, or that she got her start in science by testing the acidity of her father’s grapes. Not wanting to bring up her parents or face the question as to why she hadn’t called them yet, Cara lifted the bottle and pointed at the label. “See, it says so right here.”

  Tanner grinned and Cara’s heart skipped a beat. She could drown in that smile. Earlier today when her imagination went wild and she suspected everyone, she couldn’t imagine wanting his touch, but at this moment, she wanted nothing more.

  He took the bottle out of her hand and chuckled, “Smart ass.”

  He expertly removed the cork and poured them both a glass. Tanner swirled his under his nose. “I usually try to support our local wineries. I’m not sure how this one ended up in the rack.”

  “Maybe your little sister brought it with her when she came into town for the gala.” Cara suggested.

  Tanner cut her an incredulous glare. “My little sister does not drink.”

  Cara almost spit the wine out of her mouth. Somehow she managed to choke it down. “How old is Erin again?”

  “She’s almost twenty-two.”

  “She’s in college and she doesn’t drink a thing?”

  Tanner shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

  Cara raised her glass and nodded knowingly. “I see.” She ignored the look on his face and proceeded to fill her plate.

  Tanner narrowed his eyes. “What exactly is it that you see?”

  Cara shook her head. “Nothing, I simply understand what you’re saying.” She took a bite of vegetables and savored the flavor.

  Tanner leaned across the table. “You think I’m being naive.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “I think you are being a big brother who would like to keep his little sister, little.”

  “I practically raised her. I’m pretty sure I know her inside out.”

  Tanner was not going to let this go. Cara took another bite. She chewed slowly and proceeded with caution. “I don’t pretend to know anything about your sister. The most we’ve done is exchange waves, but I saw her at the gala. I’m pretty sure she enjoys a bit of libation every once in a while, and I saw the way she danced with Duncan.” She reached out and touched Tanner’s hand and said softly. “I’m sorry, big brother, but your little sister is now a young woman who knows her own mind.”

  For a moment Cara thought he was go
ing to argue with her. To her relief, he glanced down at the platter. “Are you going to eat all that?”

  “I think I probably could, but I’m happy to share.” She nudged the plate in his direction and he picked up the serving spoon.

  “How’s the ankle bracelet?” he asked changing the subject.

  Cara studied his face for a moment. She wondered how he would react if she told him how humiliated it made her feel, about her fear of what the future might bring, and about her anxiety of how the summer session out on LOLA will manage without her expertise. She considered telling him how much she needed to see her mom and dad, but that she didn’t know how to tell them their daughter was a suspected felon. She wanted him to know how isolated she felt, but in the end she changed her mind and simply said, “It chafes.”

  Chapter Seven

  Hunter Henderson banged loudly on the doorframe. He was peeved that Martin had hired another investigator and was irritated beyond belief that the new guy was taking the lead. The dude had refused to interview the client. What kind of investigator pulls that kind of crap?

  Cara Greene was certain she knew who had set her up. All they had to do was follow the ex-husband. Sooner or later Duncan Alexander was bound to lead them to the person who had planted the evidence. If it were up to him, he’d have the case closed in no time, but here he was, left waiting on the front porch of the new man’s house, getting splinters in his fist from his incessant pounding on the door.

  David Crandall quickly sized up the tall, sturdy man with a scowl on his face. Hunter Henderson wanted to be in charge, and he wasn’t going to appreciate anything David had to say.

  That was fine with David. His kids had just decimated a plate of French toast sticks in the microwave and engulfed the house in smoke, he hadn’t seen his wife in weeks, a hundred boxes still needed to be unpacked, and he was spoiling for a fight.

  “What’s that smell?” Hunter asked as he pushed his way past David into the living room.

  David closed his eyes and reluctantly decided that picking an argument with a co-worker wouldn’t be any more effective than yelling at his kids. While both needed to be shown the error of their ways, turning into a screaming banshee would be worse than useless, and it would weaken his position of power. David decided on the walk softly but carry a big stick approach. “What do you have so far?” he asked, getting straight to the point.

  Hunter Henderson cocked his brow in David’s direction. “I got a cute little chick-a-dee who has been framed for fraud. I got a list of people who had access inside her home, and I got a boss that won’t talk to the client.” Hunter leveled a glare at David. “I’ve had this case for exactly twelve hours, and most of that time I spent in bed, what the hell do you think I got?”

  David stepped close and came nose to nose with Hunter. “I have two kids who are driving me nuts, and a wife who is missing in action. Our brand new microwave probably needs to be replaced, and I have an associate with an attitude.” David calmly stepped back and picked up the laundry basket. “Whatever grievance you think you have, I got it beat.” He pulled out a pair of jeans and began to fold them. “I’d appreciate it if you could cut me some slack. If that’s not possible, then hit the road. I don’t have the time, energy, or inclination to whip you with my dick.”

  Sandy, David’s daughter, had walked into the room at the sound of a stranger’s voice. The ten-year-old’s eyes went wide when she heard her father’s angry words. She immediately made an about face, and headed back into the kitchen.

  Hunter cracked a smile. “Now you’ve gone and scarred your daughter for life. I thought you’d be a better dad.”

  David closed his eyes and sighed, “I usually am, but I’m not use to being both mother and father. It’s taking a toll. I can’t wait for my wife to get here. I’m not cut out to be a single father.”

  Hunter plopped his square frame into the closest easy chair and planted his feet up on the coffee table and helped himself to a handful of peanuts. “Being a single dad ain’t so bad. You can adjust to anything if you have to.”

  David narrowed his gaze and tried to determine if Hunter Henderson was playing straight with him. “You’re a single father?”

  “Yup. I got me a teenage girl.” He shook his head and pointed down the empty hallway that Sandy just exited. “That one’s at a nice age, my Dakota is sixteen. She just got her driver’s license and I don’t mind telling ya, she’s hell on wheels.”

  David sat down in the chair across from him. “I can only imagine. I know I’m not ready for the teen years.” He raised a questioning brow. “Are you divorced?”

  Hunter shook his head. “Never married. Her mom dumped us both a few days after Dakota was born.” He popped a few more nuts in his mouth. “I hear the bitch is married to some dude with money and they have three kids.” Hunter shook his head with disgust. “She’s never even called my baby girl and that pisses me off. Pour kid has a few self-esteem issues because of it, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

  “Does Dakota babysit?” David asked seriously.

  Hunter laughed out loud. “Oh man, you’re hurting.”

  ~~~**~~~

  Leah checked her cell phone for any word from Cara and worried that her friend wouldn’t be able to forgive her. She regretted their heated exchange at Rosie’s Cafe and remembered her mother’s warning about how her vicious tongue would get her in trouble one day. Leah thought she had outgrown the nastiness that ruled her teenage years, but fear over the possibility of her business being destroyed had brought out the immature bratty part of her personality.

  Leah knew she said some things she could never take back. They might have needed to be voiced at some point, but certainly not in public, and definitely not with such venom and anger. The private investigator who visited last night tried to calm her down and had explained how none of this was Cara’s fault and that she was a victim.

  Leah found it hard to agree with his estimation. Cara consciously made the decision to marry Duncan Alexander. She chose to stay with his philandering ass knowing full well every aspect of their life was in the spotlight. She had put up with the humiliation, and Leah suspected that at least a part of Cara liked the role she had been given to play.

  During the height of Duncan’s cheating exploits a reporter asked Cara if divorce was in their future. Cara answered that the decision was up to Duncan. The report made the evening news. In the reel Cara’s shoulders were slumped forward and she looked up into the camera like a broken puppy. She appeared totally defeated and acted as if she had no say in her own life.

  When Leah saw that clip, she almost gave up on their friendship. Instead, she went over and pulled Cara up by her bootstraps and told her it was high time she put on her big girl panties and started acting like an adult. She shoved that message down Cara’s throat for weeks before her friend began to turn her life around.

  A few months later Leah began to see a new gleam in Cara’s eyes, and she began to hope that she’d seen the light. When Cara announced that she was leaving Duncan, Leah let out a relieved sigh, but her work was not over. Helping Cara steer the course and follow through with the divorce had become her sole focus, but somehow their friendship had taken a wrong turn. Instead of simply helping a friend in need, Leah found herself controlling Cara the same way Duncan had. The only difference being Leah at least had Cara’s best interests at heart.

  When Cara moved in with her and began spending time with her artist friend, Brett Boden, Leah hoped it would help boost Cara’s confidence and help get her back on an even keel. She knew Brett was drawn to her friend, and Leah thought a dalliance with an older mature man might be beneficial to both of them. Leah believed with all her heart that the months Cara spent with Brett had been a godsend. Brett pulled Cara out of her depression and helped her feel joy again. The two spent hours watching ancient television sit-coms, eating good food, and drinking excellent alcoholic beverages.

  Leah watched on the sidelines as their
relationship grew closer and was relieved that Brett had taken the pressure off her. It gave her the time she needed to once again focus on the business of selling her designs.

  When Cara moved into her own place, Leah was ecstatic that her little caterpillar had blossomed into a butterfly once more. Cara was her own person once again and able to appreciate life. She was standing up to Duncan on her own, and looking forward to her future out of the spotlight and out of Duncan’s life.

  Bit by bit as Cara grew stronger, Leah realized what a drain it had been keeping Cara’s spirits bolstered. It had been her choice to support Cara, but she found herself resenting the small things like Cara refusing to wear her designs or Cara only coming over to see her when she needed a friend to lend an ear. Leah’s business was facing some difficult times, and Leah found herself blaming Cara for it.

  It all came tumbling out yesterday at Rosie’s, but that was yesterday.

  Today, Leah saw that she had cast herself as a victim in much the same way as Cara, but the role did not appeal to her. Whatever happened in the past was history, and Leah was determined not to let it define her future. If someone asked her a week ago who her best friend was, she knew her answer would have been without question, Cara Lee Greene.

  Leah typed out another text. Forgive me. I’m an idiot. If I don’t hear from you in an hour I’m coming over and pound on your door.

  Five minutes later her phone chirped and Leah read, Just make sure you have a pumpkin pie and whipped cream with you.