Once we returned home I dropped Lucy off at her place, took Mosey out for another walk, and checked on the animals. I replenished their food and water and did my best to get a cursory head count of the hens, checking on Lucy’s horses while I was at it. A few hens appeared to be missing and I had noticed the new neighbor’s dog loitering around the coup. I would have to keep an eye on that.
I headed back to the cabin, pausing to grab a low, strong pin oak tree branch for a moment and throwing in a few chin-ups. This passes for exercise most days unless I go for a swim with Lucy or happen to have music on while I’m cleaning, then I dance. I’m a firm believer that exercise is necessary, but ought to be reasonably fun as well.
Once inside, I hung all my bras up to dry, shaking my head at Lucy’s constant efforts to market me to Jared, Ben, or whoever else she deemed suitable.
I hadn’t done my bookkeeping for a while so I took care of that while I moved a new job to my phone calendar, and straightened up the house a bit. The cabin is more like home than any place I had been in a long while. The majority of the structure had been taken from an old log schoolhouse and dismantled before people in the county treasured such edifices. Leslie had appreciated it and tried to have the entire building moved to her land, but, bureaucracies being what they are, she just hadn’t moved quickly enough. The developer who had taken it down was the sort who believed it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.
Leslie had transported the building materials which weren’t destroyed to her land. Rebuilding the original was hopeless, but the wood was used to construct a simple but charming home with some additions. Using a mishmash of other antiquated but historically unimportant places from the county, she had it reconstructed on the outer perimeter of her land with a pond between the small house and the large. The result was a home she had hoped to make use of for guests or property caretakers. As current caretaker I had two small bedrooms on the main, an open great room and kitchen with a dual stone fireplace. The third bedroom had been recently created from a second floor attic. There was a fireplace in the loft as well and an old fashioned tub.
My former condo downtown, in an historic building with a modern minimalist interior décor had been a perfect reflection of that aspiring global mogul I had once dreamed of becoming. The cabin revealed the new me, a person who worked to live rather than lived to work. I wasn’t getting rich, but it was surprisingly easy to live without dipping into my savings once I realized the great chasm that is the difference between need and want.
I loved the honeyed wide plank floor boards, the knotted pine cabinets and large windows—which would not have been in keeping with the genuine log buildings of the past, but were perfectly wonderful for gazing out at the ducks which scudded into the pond or a fawn delicately stepping out of the woods with its mother. The fireplaces were wood burning and I had a load delivered now and again by strapping country boys out to earn date money.
I wiped down the cabinets, washed out the mugs then repaired to the main bathroom and belatedly placed a towel under the dripping lingerie. My upper bath was a claw foot tub, no shower, so I used that only when I had the luxury of time.
Trudging upstairs, I took my hair down and pulling off my jeans, brushed my teeth quickly and grabbed my laptop. I was curious about wild edibles myself now. I pondered Mae’s cause of death before I fell sprawling into bed in my t-shirt. I Goggled and read several articles on wilderness foraging and survival. The pieces were fraught with so many warnings about poisonous twin vegetation I wondered why anyone would take the risk unless we found ourselves in an apocalyptic situation. Then again, I was very familiar with Queen Anne’s Lace and had no idea it was a member of the parsnip family with a root vegetable that was a nutritious high sugar wild carrot. I was intrigued, although I had no plans to play roulette with my sparse knowledge and grab a shovel and begin a quest for free food. But it seemed only responsible to take such a gamble yourself if you were going to write a guide about it. I wondered if Mae was incorporating such ingredients regularly into meals. I thought about the old fairy tale of “Stone Soup” and thought it was a clever name for Mae’s stew.
Despite knowing exactly what the plant looked like, I would be extremely cautious about eating it myself and would want to take the description out to the field and read it many times before I took a chance like that. It looked very similar to hemlock which also had a root vegetable, albeit a deadly one. Mae’s book for “morons” seemed like a brilliant idea if she had served it up in a more interesting manner than the articles I had found. Before I finished the third piece I was struggling to pull the cord and turn out the light.
Facebook Post: “An old college flame occasionally emails me songs. No message, just the song. The last one was “Close to You” by the Carpenters. On the surface it is syrupy sweet. Then you think about the lyrics. Who the hell would want to date someone who has birds suddenly appearing every time they are near? And what kinds of birds? I’m imagining geese and a pretty big mess.”
Chapter 3
Jared called me the next morning at 7:15.
“Legs?” He asked in an unusually tentative tone when I answered in a husky, groggy voice.
I looked at my clock and suppressed my outrage. “I'm sorry, Gretchen is out playing water polo; can I take a message?”
“Wha- Oh heck, Gretchen I'm sorry. I'll call back in a few hours.”
“Never mind, what is it?” I groaned lying back with my eyes squeezed closed.
“Well, I wanted to see if I could come by and ask you a few questions.”
“Sure,” I said, “key's boot” and began to doze off again.
I woke up a little while later sensing something was off. I peered through my disheveled curly hair to my right, then slowly to my left.
And screamed.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, searching for the comforter so I could cover up.
Jared grinned. “You told me to come over, you even told me there was a key in the boot. I’m not one to notice clothes particularly, but really digging the pajamas.”
“I guess you are; you are just a walking parody of a man on the prowl, you know that?”
“I’m a grown man; you should take it as a compliment that I like that what’s it called now, a thong? And the t-shirt, I admired that yesterday, but didn’t get a chance to comment.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know a thong when you see one. You’re probably more of an expert on women’s panties than I am. I bet your glove compartment is stuffed with them. And as I recall you didn’t say a word last night, just gaped a few times like a big mouth bass in the bottom of a boat.”
He flashed that bright perfect smile which was the passport to panty land in the county.
“Well I just figured that little hit parade you made through Mae’s house had to be for my benefit. Trust me,” he said grimly, “It was a hit. If I hadn’t told them I was seeing you they’d be lazing around your front porch right now like hungry mutts.”
“Oh so you lied for my benefit? I appreciate the grand gesture, but somehow the only hungry mutt that seems to ever hang around here is you.”
“Well I have to say, I thought that was really out of character for you to run around like that, other than that time Mosey went missing.”
“Depends on the character,” I said, “I just have one word of explanation: Lucy.”
He laughed, “Oh well, they should all send her a thank you note. I had to keep two of them from trailing after you; remind them of the other body they needed to focus on. Anyway as much as I enjoy sparring with you I did come here on business.”
“Fine, what’s up?” I laughed, “No, let me rephrase that, what can I do for you?”
He grinned and pretended to make for the bed, “Glad you asked.”
“Are you ever going to outgrow puberty?” I demanded. “What do you need-um-what official business brings you here?”
He reared back in the chair, arching slightly and retrieved a s
mall notebook from his back pocket. I caught myself staring and forced myself to look away. The man was packing heat alright, and I was blushing from my own hypocrisy. Thank goodness he had glanced behind him as he tilted the chair and hopefully hadn’t noticed.
“You need to take that tree down before it reaches into your room,” he commented idly, nodding toward the window behind him. “I’d be happy to do it for you.”
“Are you nuts? I love that tree, and the house needs the shade with this tin roof. Besides, we still aren’t talking about Mae’s case, and you aren’t an arborist right?”
“Just trying to be helpful Legs. Okay, they are still looking into Mae’s cause of death. They're talking about isolating everyone who was in her house. The Medical Examiner is on the phone now with CDC while they wait for the autopsy and lab results. Everybody seems to be backed up with budget cuts. They’ve ruled out a stroke or heart attack. She had recently been to the Doctor and he said she was always healthy as a horse. They're testing now for viruses, bacteria and so forth. It could take awhile unless a similar case pops up.”
“I still don't know why that puts you in my bedroom this morning.”
“Maybe since I had the heads up, I thought to myself; suppose there is a similar death soon? Where would I most like to be quarantined?”
“And you decided this would be the place?”
He grinned, “I decided it was a win-win situation. I get you to myself and if you continue to find me so eminently resistible then at a minimum we talk business, mainly about Anita and her relationship with Mae.”
“You think Anita could be involved in Mae's death?” I asked, startled enough to ignore my cell phone ringing.
“You know her better than anyone else.”
“Well yeah, now that Mae’s dead I guess I do.”
“So we’re just exploring the idea discreetly. We understand she is a very private person. Sort of reclusive, so when we hear from the girls at the Oasis that she was there with Bill last week…”
“Anita with Bill?”
“And they seemed to be having a spat...”
“I’m just trying to wrap my head around Anita meeting anyone, let alone having a spat!”
He flipped the pages of the notebook. “Yes, they used the word spat, so right away of course that seemed like a great time to send a waitress over to check their mugs for refills.”
“Naturally.”
“And one of the girls heard the word “marriage” and then Anita glared at the waitress. She and Bill shut up and left pretty quickly.”
The phone rang again and I looked at the screen.
“Speak of the devil,” then I answered, “Hi Anita.”
“I'm so sorry to bother you, but it just occurred to me. Did I see you leave with just one cage last night?”
“Ah, yeah, you only mentioned an owl.”
“No, I thought I told you, there's a muskrat still there in a carrier in the corner. I separated them to reduce stress. It just needs releasing in that wetland behind Mae's house.”
“Um sure, I didn't see it, wasn't looking for it actually, but I can go back.”
“Would you really? I’d do it, but I am exhausted, I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Absolutely, not a problem, Jared just stopped by, if they won't let me in I'm sure he can grab it.”
“Jared is with you? Now?”
I ignored her shocked tone. If you live in a small town everyone’s going to have an opinion on everything you do. Bridle Springs is not for the faint of heart or thin of skin. “Look, we'll get it within the next hour or so. Hang on, what happened to the hawk you picked up?”
“Nothing,” she said, “I was waiting for it until Mae called me. I do wish she had dialed 911 first. Anyway the man didn't show up with it.”
“Did you redial him?”
“No, it was from the hotline messages, he just said he had a hawk that slammed into his windshield and asked someone to meet him at the Methodist Church parking lot between 1:30 and 2:00. That’s my regular call duty time so I went.”
“Okay, just curious, we'll get the muskrat.”
I hung up and Jared started up again. “You said we,” he smiled, somewhat triumphantly.
“Yes,” I said, “we, the person who needs to get a wild animal from a closed scene and the deputy who can get her in to do that. If you can turn that in a romantic overture you are truly delusional.”
He shook his head and smirked. “You also called me about Mae’s death instead of 911.”
Drat. He had noticed. “Jared you got me, guilty, I am using the phone you gave me which you conveniently programmed with your number because I am longing for you to join me in bed. That’s why when I saw you sitting there as I awakened I reached for you and we made... Oh! Wait! What was my reaction?”
“You screamed and covered up,” he said impatiently.
“And is that one of the clues you were going on when you decided I am lusting after you? Your observational skills are wasted. You should leave the sheriff’s department and become a private detective.”
“No, I get it Gretchen; excuse me for mistaking you for a warm blooded woman.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. You’re so vain. You expect every woman who crosses your path to immediately want to drag you off to bed.”
“Not every woman, not, for example, women related to me by blood or marriage, even briefly. That would be grotesque.” This was clearly a jibe at my relationship with Ben so I didn’t react. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He shrugged, "But I get it Legs, you’ve made it pretty obvious that you find me repulsive.”
“Now you’re fishing, no female ever seems to find you repulsive.”
“So you jealously observe women around me?” “He asked, rising from the chair again.
“Whoa, cowboy, back in the saddle there; I never said jealous and that is precisely what I don’t like about you.”
“So you’re looking for an ugly dude?”
“Exactly, the Gollum, a troll, someone who thinks he’s the luckiest man alive to have me, no competition.”
“Obviously that means Ben is not a contender.”
“Hmmm, I didn’t know you found Ben so attractive. I’m sure he will be delighted to hear it,” I smiled.
“Yes, tell him please. Tell him where we were and what you were wearing when I said it. Give me his number and I’ll send him a text, and a picture. In the meantime why don’t I just slip into the bathroom with my pocketknife and disfigure myself to your specifications?”
“Hmmm, I guess in that case I wouldn’t kick you out of bed for eating crackers.”
“Really?”
“Yeah I’d just kick you out of bed for being in my bed. Now how about you pop out so I can get dressed? We can talk downstairs.”
He gave me a look of exasperation. “Sometimes I wish I never laid eyes on you. I was a happier man before you came trotting around in those tiny scraps of lace that pass for underwear.”
“We can fix that unhappiness.” I said trying for sultry.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, send another deputy next time. Maybe one who knows when to call and how to knock.”
He stood up and moved closer to me, peering studiously at the quilt I had covered myself with.
“What are you doing?” I asked in confusion.
Ignoring me, he picked up the edging and stared. “You know, I think my grandmother made this very quilt?”
“Seriously? I just found it at the church sale but if it’s from your family, then of course you should take-”
Suddenly he gave a hard yank. I gasped and curled up as he examined the fabric. Then he picked up his phone and snapped a photo of me. I quickly flipped over on my belly, face down.
“That’s it, work it, work it,” he urged, “You’re a polar bear basking on an ice cap in the sun,” I grabbed the pillow and quickly covered my hair. “You’re a marshmallow on a stick,” he cried, feigning a photogra
pher’s zeal.
“And you’re an ass whose about to lose his cell phone,” I mumbled into the mattress.
“Babe, you can call me an ass any time as long as I get to look at yours. God bless the man who invented the thong.”
“Thongs were invented like 70,000 years ago.” I muttered into the mattress.
“If you could see what I see you would know for sure that a man invented it. And I appreciate you returning my family quilt to me. When the old farmhouse caught fire we thought every one of these was a goner.”
I turned and peered at him suspiciously. He was seated back in the rocker and was making a great show of bundling up in his coveted heirloom.
He grinned, “I’m sorry, are you cold?”
“Actually no, but can you please put that cell phone down for just a second so I can get up?”
He looked at me, then studied the cell screen, flipping through the photos. “These are really good, it would have been better of course if you didn’t have your face hidden, but I never have any troubling recollecting that.”
“Fine, fine, you’ve had your fun and redeemed your family treasure, all I ask is that you put the phone down on the floor and stay in the rocker.”
“I guess I can do that,” he grinned magnanimously, “your house, your rules.” He placed the phone on the hardwood floor near his foot and settled back, the quilt elaborately tucked up to his chin.
“Despite your many other character flaws you’re a man of your word?”
“Of course,” he said in an affronted tone.
“Good, obviously I need a robe so I’m getting up now.”
“Okay,” he said, his eyes blazing with amusement.
I rolled off onto the floor and walked toward him slowly then put one hand on each arm of the chair. Gently I toed the phone under the rocker on his right. “You are no gentleman.” I chided.
“I’m keeping my word,” he said mildly, studying me as though I were a live model he was about to sketch.
I glared at him a moment longer, then turned away, artlessly pulling off my top as I headed toward the bath. My back was to him as I opened the door and stepped out of my panties, then just as I locked the old door I heard a satisfying crunch.
2 Maid in the Shade Page 3
