by Lynn Cahoon
“And yet, having her here is probably the best thing that happened to your relationship for a while, right?”
“Do you always have to look on the bright side of events?” I found the station I wanted and leaned back in the seat.
“Darling, believe me. In my job, if I didn’t look for the bright side, I’d be burned out in about a week. Did I tell you we’re having problems with someone stealing lawn decorations? Mrs. Turner over on Beal is about ready to coordinate a neighborhood watch program and buy everyone stunners.”
“She’s the one with the family of gnomes living in her yard?” I’d seen her house. It looked more like a fairy tale castle than a seaside cottage. And her collection of gnome statuary was an unofficial tourist stop for South Cove. “Has she thought that maybe they’re just leaving to build their own little town?”
“Funny girl. Statues don’t just walk away. At least not in reality. Now in some of those books you’re selling, it could be a possibility. And believe me, I’d like it better because you know some teenager is hiding these things in his parents’ old shed and one day, they’re going to be caught.” Greg ran a hand through his hair.
This action was one of his stress tells. Since we’d been dating, I’d categorized a lot of his physical reactions to emotions. Since he didn’t talk about how he felt, it gave me at least a clue on what was going on in his head. Or at least that was my hope. I could have been totally wrong. But I wasn’t.
“Has anyone else lost things?”
He shook his head. “I had Tim canvas the neighborhood. No one else on Beal Street has noticed anything missing.”
“Which gives my theory more credence.” I grinned. “Hey, you have to look at the simplest answer first. And that’s Mrs. Turner’s gnomes are leaving the building. Maybe there’s an earthquake coming and they are getting off the ship.”
“I think that’s rats and a storm.” He grinned. “Let’s change the subject. I don’t want to even think about work. Even the Great Gnome Caper. So where do you want to stop for lunch?”
I grabbed my phone back out of my tote and pulled up the map on my phone to calculate our time. “Are we driving straight through?”
“I thought we planned on that? It’s only eleven hours and we left early. We should be at the bed and breakfast you booked by seven. That way tomorrow is all about playing tourist and maybe renting a dune buggy for the sand dunes.” He looked like a kid in a candy store. “We do have a reservation tonight, right?”
“Of course, we do. But dunes?” I looked up from my search of restaurants about two hours away and frowned. “Who said there were dunes?”
“You think you’re the only one who researches our trips?” He patted my leg. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to drive. I’ll take care of it.”
“Sexist attitude. Maybe I want to drive on the dunes.” Of course, he knew I really didn’t want to navigate a dune buggy up a shifting pile of sand.
“Then you can drive.” He grinned. “Don’t fight a battle you don’t want to win. We’ll see about the dunes. We don’t have to spend all day there. I know you wanted to check out the town. And we have to leave early Sunday to get back unless you want to leave Saturday night.”
“No, Sunday’s fine. I’d like to go on the dunes for a few hours. Maybe we can pack a lunch and spend Saturday there.” I’d been planning on laying on the beach for most of Saturday but being part of a couple required compromise. And I guess this was one of them. I went back to hunting up a fun place to stop to eat. “There’s a bar and grill that says it’s famous for fish tacos about two hours up. Is that too early for lunch?”
“I’ll want a break by then anyway.” Greg relaxed into his driving mode. “How has your week been going? I don’t think we’ve talked since I sprung having lunch with my mother on you last week.”
We relaxed into conversation and I told him about the events that happened at the shop. For some reason, there were always interesting stories about the customers and their requests. Sasha was having the elementary aged book club this weekend. She’d found a mystery series that the kids were loving. We’d sold more than just the first book that they were discussing this week. “I’d told her to look into having this author visit or maybe be part of our book fair this fall.”
“You’re having a book fair?”
I nodded. “Aunt Jackie, Sasha, and Darla are handling the planning. But I think it might turn into an annual event.”
We talked about the fair and Greg suggested some of his favorite authors for the adult author tent and I texted those to Sasha. “No promises, but we’ll see.”
After more conversation about books and movies and what we wanted to do for vacation this summer, Greg slowed the truck down and pulled off the highway. I glanced around and realized we were in the town where we were having lunch. The trip was doing just what I needed it to do. I was relaxing and enjoying the time.
And that’s all you could ask for from some days away.
* * * *
We reached the Reedsport Bed and Breakfast right at seven. We checked in then headed to the restaurant down the street that the owner had enthusiastically recommended. Seafood was on the menu and I was in heaven.
As we were walking back to the bed and breakfast, I felt a level of comfort that you only get after a great meal with even better company. Glancing at the signs as we crossed the street, I paused and checked out the house numbers. If I was right, Kyle’s mom lived just three houses down from the corner. There were no lights on at the house so I couldn’t see the number. “This is Arrow Street, right?”
“The bed and breakfast is on North Fifth.” Greg pointed toward the way we were walking. He stopped at the corner. “Jill? Is there a reason you wanted to go to Reedsport? And why’re you so interested in a dark house on a random street?”
Busted. I took one last glimpse of what I suspected was Rebecca’s house and started walking again. “Okay, so I may have wanted to meet someone.”
“Should I be worried?” Greg pulled me close to his side as we walked. “It’s not another guy, right? Someone from your past?”
“Ha. No. I wouldn’t check up on any of those losers. I tend to have bad taste in men.” Seeing the look on his face, I laughed. “I meant before I met you.”
“That’s better.” He kissed the top of my head. “Tell me the story.”
Taking a deep breath, I told Kyle’s secret a second time. This time I didn’t feel quite as bad, breaking his confidence. Apparently, it happened like that. You gossip once, you feel less guilty the second time.
“And you want to meet this woman to convince her that she should visit Kyle.” We were sitting on the front porch now. The evening was chilly for May, but the smell of the salt air made me think of my own porch.
“Basically, that’s the plan. Of course, she may not even live there. She might have given Kyle a bogus address. She may not even be in Reedsport.” I scooted back into the swing and into Greg’s arms. I leaned my head on his chest. “It’s complicated. Some days I wish I was back in the city not knowing anyone I lived near or worked with and not caring about their lives. Now, I worry about everyone.”
“You have a big heart.” He was quiet for a while. “So tomorrow morning we’ll go looking for the woman, but Sunday, we’re going to the dunes.”
“You’d help me?” My heart swelled. Greg typically didn’t like me investigating.
He leaned down and kissed me. “This is just a missing persons type of case. And we don’t even know she’s missing. At least I don’t have to worry about a killer getting wind of your snooping and taking you out to keep his secret. Unless this woman was in jail for murder?”
I laughed. “No. From what Kyle said, she just had a habit of picking losers for boyfriends and she was in the wrong place when the current man of the month did something stupid.”
“Hmm, maybe you fee
l for her because you both had the same bad taste in men.”
Now I slapped his arm. “Prior bad taste, although, you keep teasing me, I might reconsider your status.”
He stood, laughing. “Let’s go to bed. You’re grumpy from the long ride.”
* * * *
The next morning after a breakfast filled with waffles and homemade syrup and bacon and fruit and a whole list of other delightful treats, Greg and I were standing outside 545 Arrow Street. The place looked deserted. The yard needed mowed and the house was the only one on the street where the flower beds were completely empty. I walked up the cracked sidewalk and up the stairs to knock on the door. Greg had followed and we waited on the porch. I knocked again.
“Becky’s not home. She’s working,” a man called out from the side of the house.
I turned and saw a man pushing a lawnmower out from the back of the house. “Do you know where she works?”
“Of course I do. I’ve lived next to her for five years, ever since she bought the place.” He peered at us like we were trying to break in and steal whatever belongings the woman had.
Greg stepped off the porch and held out his hand. “Good morning. I’m Greg King. I’m a police detective in South Cove, California. Can you tell us where Miss Nabors works?”
“Is Becky in trouble?” Now the older man looked pained. “She’s been a good neighbor. Quiet. Keeps to herself. Not much for yard work though so I mow her yard every once in a while.”
“Oh, no. She’s not in trouble. We just wanted to talk to her about her son.”
Now a confused look took over the man’s face. “Becky ain’t got no kids. She’s never even been married. At least that’s what she told Ester. Ester’s my wife.”
“Maybe we have the wrong person then. But we’ve come a ways to find her. Maybe if we could just pop in where she works we can get this cleared up.” Greg was using his calm police voice, a tone I’d heard him use a lot in his job. When he tried it with me, it made me mad.
“Sure. She’s a waitress over at the diner. It’s down on Main. You probably passed it as you were coming into town.” He glanced at the house again. “But do me a favor, don’t say I sent you. Ester really likes the girl and I’d hate for her to be mad at us for sharing that.”
“We’ll keep it to ourselves.” Greg reached out a hand again. “Thanks for the information. I bet she appreciates you helping her out with the lawn.”
“It’s no big deal. I’m retired. What else do I have to do with my time? Besides listen to the wife, that is.” He grinned and started the mower.
Apparently, the conversation was over.
As we walked away, I looked back and saw the man mowing in perfectly straight lines. The unmown yard must totally mess with his OCD. “You’re good with people.”
Greg looked at me, surprised. “I am a detective. Part of my job is to be good with people.”
I shrugged. “I tend to rub people who don’t know me the wrong way. I’m either too nice or not nice enough. Book people are easier. You know you have something in common.”
“And you opened a store in a tourist town where you have to talk to people all the time. Maybe not the best career choice?”
“You forget. I work the early shift. After the commuters are gone, the shop is empty. Sasha, Toby, and Aunt Jackie get the majority of the customers. Besides, it’s a ton better than being a lawyer.” I stared ahead. “I think that’s Main Street next.”
“You’d be surprised at how many little towns are set up like this. Numbered streets run east west. Named streets run north south. Not sure if it’s coincidence or they just copied each other.”
“A piece of American town trivia for the day.” I teased him. “You read too much non-fiction.”
“At least I’m not looking for wandering gnomes on our trip.”
Shaking my head, we paused at the corner of Main. “They wouldn’t have come here.”
“And why do you say that?”
“It’s obvious. Gnomes like warmer climates. They probably are on their way to the border to find a small South American yard where they can rebuild.” I pointed across the street. “There’s the diner.”
CHAPTER 5
Opening the door, I took in the smells of breakfast. Coffee, eggs, bacon, and a touch of something sweet wafted out the door to welcome me. Did they bake their own muffins here? My mouth watered even though I’d eaten my fill before we’d left the bed and breakfast. I grinned at Greg. “Maybe some coffee and a blueberry muffin?”
“You have a bottomless pit for a stomach.” He pulled me close. “Do you recognize anyone from your mad investigation skills?”
“Stalking people on Facebook isn’t crazy. Besides, it’s effective.” I scanned the room. There was Rebecca, pouring coffee for an older couple.
As she finished, she turned and noticed us at the door. “Come on over, I’ve got a booth right here. All I have to do is wipe it down.”
“Busy place,” Greg said as we made our way through the crowd of tables. “And you lucked right into having her as our server.”
“Sometimes the gnome gods are generous.” This gnome thing was never going to get old. I giggled as we stood, waiting for Rebecca to finish wiping the table.
“Coffee? Or something else I can grab for you as I’m getting menus?” She stepped back and gave us room to sit down. “Our special is the everything omelet. It’s got an order of biscuits and gravy along with hash browns inside the omelet. It’s crazy good, but high on carbs if you watch those things.”
“Coffee for me and bring us one of the specials with two plates. I’ve got to try this.” Greg grinned at me.
“I’ll take coffee too. And bring me a blueberry muffin. Do you make them in house?” This woman who apparently was Kyle’s mom was warm and welcoming. At least to customers who would later be giving her tips on her service. I wondered why she’d turned down a meeting with the son who had been waiting for years for her to come back and make good on her promise. But of course, this wasn’t the right time to ask.
As she walked away to put in our order, Greg shook his head. “So now that you’re here, you have no idea how to bring Kyle into the picture, do you?”
“Not a clue.” I sank back into the chair. “Researching online or in the library is so much easier than confronting someone face to face. Besides, her neighbor said she doesn’t have kids. It makes me wonder if she’s not the right person.”
“Only one way to find out.” Greg didn’t speak until Rebecca returned with their coffee cups. As she was pouring, he leaned over and pretended to read her name tag. “Thanks, Becky. So my wife and I are having a disagreement. I hope you can shed some light on the subject.”
I slipped my left hand under my leg, just in case she might look and wonder why I didn’t wear a wedding ring. But I didn’t have to worry, she didn’t even look my way. After filling the coffee cups, she set the pot down on the table.
“What can I help you with?” She smiled, a little too friendly for my taste at the now announced married man.
He took my right hand. “We’re heading over to the dunes tomorrow for a little fun. But I want to bring our teenager out here next month and let him rent his own buggy. Jill, here, doesn’t think it’s safe. You live here. Are the dunes safe to ride on?”
“As long as your son doesn’t get all crazy, they’re really fun. I went out there with my boyfriend just last month and we had a blast. The only thing you have to remember is that the sand shifts. So where you drove a few hours ago may not be the same when you come back.” She smiled at me. “I don’t think you have to worry about your son as long as you keep an eye on him.”
She started to pick up the pot but I blurted, “What about your kids? Would you let your son drive the dunes?”
Becky didn’t meet my gaze as she gripped the pot tightly. “I don’t have any chil
dren.”
We watched her weave her way back through the maze of tables and chairs. She stopped and refilled cups on the way back, but it was like watching a robot. Then she disappeared into the kitchen.
“That was weird.” I turned to look at Greg. “It wasn’t just me, right?”
He shook his head and pulled out his phone, keying in a text. “It definitely wasn’t just you. I felt the change in her as well.”
I saw him put the phone away after he’d finished his message. “Who did you text?”
“Esmeralda. I asked her to run a background check on our friend. I’d like to know who’s messing with my town folk.” The easy grin was back on his face as he watched someone across the room. When Becky arrived with our omelet and my muffin, he turned the smile back on her. “Wow, that was quick!”
“Got to keep the customers happy and coming back. Can I bring you anything else?” After we both shook our heads, she pointed to the far edge of the table. “We have a variety of hot sauces back there. Along with ketchup. Just let me know if I can get you anything else. I’ll stop by in a bit and top off your coffee.”
I stared at the huge omelet. “I think I’m going to take the muffin back to the room for a dessert tonight.”
“The place where we have reservations has that chocolate lava cake you like so much.” Greg cut off half the omelet and moved it to his plate, then sprinkled hot sauce over the top of the country gravy that covered the creation. He pushed the rest of the omelet toward me. “You going to try this?”
I grinned and pushed the rest onto my plate, then grabbed the ketchup. “You bet your life I am.”
Feeling just a little sick from the amount of food I’d consumed that morning and aware we knew no more about Kyle’s mom now than when we went into the diner, I glanced around the picturesque Main Street. “Maybe we should walk around a little and try to burn some of these calories. That was the best omelet I’ve ever had.”
“There’s an art gallery down the road. A couple actually. Let’s aim there so I can look for a Mother’s Day gift.” He took my hand and we moved toward the end of town. “I liked it better when I just sent something online and I could pretend she’d be happy.”
