Crafting Disorder (Ponderosa Pines Cozy Mystery Series Book 2) Read online

  It was too much work to start a fire, so Sabra decided to snuggle under the covers, where she tossed and turned for the next half hour. Too keyed up to read or to sleep, she finally threw back the covers, and gave in to the inevitable. The camera lay where she had left it—on the kitchen table next to her laptop, which she now opened and turned on. While the computer booted up, Sabra scrolled through the images in the camera’s small view screen before impatiently flicking the power switch. She pulled out the memory card and shoved it into the laptop’s onboard reader.

  Seconds later, a slide show popped onto her screen. An hour before, the streaks painted with light across a velvet sky would have enchanted her, but that had been BY. Before Yeti.

  Now all she could think about was whether she’d captured the elusive being in pixels. Forty or so impatient flicks later, she came to the first image. Trees, grass, and deep shadows were all that she could see, even when she was looking at the exact spot where he had stood. She scrolled again, then once more, and stopped.

  There. By the apple tree, she made out the hint of his outline and the small patch of lighter color where she had seen his reaching hand. He’d been moving too fast against the already dark background to get a good shot.

  Scroll.

  Scroll.

  And there it was. The money shot. He’d paused long enough in one place for the camera to capture a distinct impression of him against the side of the barn. The shaggy outline of a man-thing.

  Sabra clapped her hands in delight and shared the photo on Facebook with a single word caption.

  Bigfoot.

  * * *

  By the time Sabra—thankful for once that the Inn was unoccupied—dragged herself out of bed, her Yeti photo had already been shared thirteen times. In the hour it took to post the meteor shots to her profile, her blog, and all her favorite forums—shares of the figure hit seventeen. She replied to some of the comments on the image before flipping the laptop closed.

  Sabra paced around the kitchen twice in a haze of indecision. What she should do—in fact—what she should have done last night, was call Nate Harper and Dalton Burnsoll, and tell them what she had seen.

  And be branded a total fruit loop.

  Granted, it would be a level up from her current status as a partial nut case, but that wasn’t the kind of status she wanted to increase. Someone needed to know, though. So she did the next best thing. She called EV.

  “Can you come over? Right away?”

  “Is something wrong?” Sabra sounded breathless with some emotion. EV couldn’t tell if it was excitement or fear.

  “Please come as soon as you can.” Telling would make it more real. Sabra hoped EV would hurry.

  * * *

  Ride or run? Biking along the main roads or running through one of her woodland shortcuts would take EV roughly the same time to get to the Come On Inn. So, naturally, EV decided to try biking through the shortcut to save time, and managed to shave minutes off the trip without whacking her head on any low-hanging branches.

  When Muggly Puggington pulled his usual attack-the-bike caper, she spared him a quick word before knocking on Sabra’s heavy front door, which flew open mid-rap.

  “Get in here,” Sabra glanced in both directions to make sure EV was alone.

  What was up with all the intrigue?

  “He was here. Last night. He stole a piece of metal grating from my collection.”

  “Who?”

  “The Yeti.”

  EV’s mouth dropped open.

  “The what? What did you just say?”

  “Yeti. You know, Sasquatch.” When EV still stared uncomprehendingly, Sabra elaborated. “Bigfoot.”

  “Have you been brewing your own beer again? Eating funny mushrooms? I don’t even think those are all the same thing. I know none of them exist.”

  “Cute. Real cute. I have pictures to prove it. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Sabra flipped open the laptop, waking it up from hibernation. The slide show was still open and cued up to the best shot of the figure by the barn.

  EV leaned down for a closer look. It was a man. There was no such thing as a Yeti. But she had to admit, it did look damning. In silhouette, the figure looked shaggy from head to toe. Not a bear—the shapes were wrong.

  “Can you send me a copy of this? And don’t show it to anyone else until I’ve had a chance to check it out?”

  Sabra dropped her eyes before turning back to the computer.

  “I’ll email it to you right now.” She did so with a series of clicks. “But I already posted it on my Facebook page.”

  EV blew out a breath. Of course she had. Because that’s the first thing people did these days. Slap every little thing up on social media for the world to see.

  “Can you take it down?”

  “It’s too late. The image has already been shared,” Sabra looked at the updated numbers, “twenty times now.”

  Another gusting sigh escaped EV’s lips. “Well, tell me how it happened.” She slid into a chair, and listened to Sabra tell the whole story.

  Halfway home, EV stopped her bike. Caught between laughter and tears, in the end, she managed both. Somewhere in between, she sent off a text to Chloe.

  Totally bizarre experience, tell you when I see you. Be prepared for shock and awe.

  Chapter 11

  Veronica and Mindy in tow, Chloe pushed through the front double doors of Mama Nancy’s diner. A dull roar of conversation met her ears, the tinkling of silverware against porcelain punctuating the din. The scent of greasy fried food recalled the last time Chloe had eaten here; Nate had taken her out for a night of people watching and binge eating. Comparing the experience to the several questionable dates she had been on lately, Chloe had to admit there was a layer of sexual tension with Nate that, so far, remained unmatched. More than that, though, they laughed at the same things. Under the sexual tension was something deeper; closer. Something that added layers over and around the chemistry. It scared her to death.

  Please seat yourself read the sign in front of the hostess station. The three made a beeline for an empty prime corner booth. What Chloe saw across the restaurant made her stop in her tracks; Mindy plowed into her backside, emitting a startled, “What the…” before noticing Nate sitting at a table across the room. With a woman. A beautiful redheaded woman Chloe didn’t recognize. Pulse racing, she could feel the blood rise to her cheeks as pure jealousy and anger bubbled up inside her.

  “Turn around!” Chloe hissed at her friends, but it was too late.

  Pasting a fake smile on her face, Chloe approached their table.

  Thank goodness there’s no thought bubble above my head.

  Thought bubble or no, Nate knew Chloe well enough to realize she wasn’t happy. The concept made his own heart race, while a hopeful feeling rose in his chest; maybe she really did have feelings for him after all. Plus, it served her right for going on all those dates. He didn’t care if EV had set them up: she could have said no, or at least given him a heads-up.

  “Hi, Chloe. This is Elise. Elise, my friend Chloe.” If Elise noticed the emphasis on friend, or the tight expression on Chloe’s face, she didn’t show it.

  “Nice to meet you.” She said, flashing Chloe a genuine smile.

  Bitch. And a nice bitch too. Those are the worst.

  “Nice to meet you, too. See you around, Nathaniel.” Chloe spun on her heel and stalked back toward her friends, who were watching avidly from the booth they had snagged. Nate nodded to them, and they both waved half-heartedly, unsure whether to act friendly or pierce him with a patented you-hurt-my-BFF-and-now-I’m-going-to-kill-you look.

  Chloe, plunking herself down facing away from Nate, began peeling the paper napkin away from a bundle of silverware, one layer at a time. Veronica and Mindy gave her a full minute of silence before pouncing.

  “Okay, what was that all about? Last time I checked, you couldn’t care less who Nate was seeing. I thought he was just a friend.” Veronica blu
rted out, casting a knowing look at Mindy.

  “I thought so too, but it seemed like maybe he wanted more. Then it seemed like I wanted more. When he came over to help me with the bat, I thought he was going to kiss me, but…” Chloe was lost in thought, and Mindy took the opportunity to interject.

  “What bat? Details please.”

  “A few days back, I walked through my front door and there it was. A freaking bat in my living room—just swooping around.” Chloe shivered. “I called Nate, and he came over to get rid of it.”

  “Okay, and? How did you go from shooing away bats to nearly kissing?”

  “Well, I made us a couple of drinks and we…talked…for a while.” Chloe’s cheeks burned pink at the memory of Nate’s exposed stomach. “When I walked him home, he hugged me, and it seemed like he wanted to kiss me. But he didn’t.”

  “Want us to take him out for you? I know a good place where we can hide the body.” Veronica offered with mock-seriousness.

  “We could take him out and let the Yeti have him.” Mindy supplied.

  Chloe softened slightly. “Let’s give him another chance before we resort to ritual sacrifice. Speaking of which, can we please take a minute to talk about this whole Sasquatch business? Could things get any weirder around here?”

  Neither of her friends bought the change in conversation; they’d comply for the moment, but more details would be required before the night was over.

  “No kidding, we’ve got our very own Bigfoot. He’s definitely the one who keeps stealing stuff from town. It’s odd, though, the things that have been disappearing. Mr. Zellner is pissed,” she stretched the word out long, “about his pornographic scarecrow.” Veronica snorted at the thought.

  “Why, was it anatomically correct? Because that would be stranger than someone stealing his clothes!” The three erupted into giggles; Chloe tossed her hair and shot a glance in the direction of Nate’s table. His eyes slid back to his now-empty dinner plate without meeting hers, but Chloe suspected he had been watching her since she sat down. Like his scent, she could feel the weight of his gaze, even when she wasn’t looking directly at him.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, why on earth was there a giant Hummer in your driveway the other night?” Mindy brought the subject back around to Chloe’s love life. She had run into EV Torrence at the Mudbucket earlier, and already knew EV’s plan for uniting Chloe and Nate. It was one that she and Veronica were happy to perpetuate, for the sake of their friend’s sanity and happiness.

  “I’ve been rented out like a common streetwalker, that’s why.” Chloe couldn’t hide the sarcasm dripping from her lips. “You two are lucky; you have no idea what it’s like out there. Sex and the City sure got it wrong. There’s no bevy of sexy, eligible men; not even if all I wanted was a fling. And believe me; I’d get flung right about now if I thought it would take the edge off. Problem is—that’s not what I really want.”

  “So why don’t you try talking to him about it?” Veronica asked gently.

  “Because if Nate wanted me, he’d let me know. He wouldn’t have pulled away, and he wouldn’t be lunching with gorgeous women, and flaunting it right in front of me. Besides, the end result won’t be pretty. His shoulder is nearly healed; he’ll be heading back to Portland soon, and I’ve had enough long-distance relationships to know they never work out.”

  “Portland is only an hour and a half away. He’s not moving to Siberia. I think this whole deal is a cover because you’re scared. Yeah, you could lose a friend, but you could also gain a partner. And you don’t know what he’s thinking. He might surprise you.”

  “I’ll think about it.” It was the same statement she had made to EV, but so far, all thinking had gotten her was a muddled brain and a feeling of paralyzing self-doubt. “But for now, let’s move on to happier subjects. I don’t want to look like I’m agonizing over here.”

  “Did you see Eliza Blackburn’s baby girl? Speaking of Sasquatch…I know people think all babies are cute, but she looks like one of those goblins from Labrynth.”

  * * *

  When Dalton promised something, he delivered. It was one of the things EV liked best about him. He pulled her into Drifters where the DJ was spinning exactly what she had requested—pulse-pounding rock.

  Of the vintage variety.

  Warm fingers curled around hers; Dalton led her toward a table in the back, where there was at least a snowball’s chance in hell they could hear each other if they wanted to talk.

  “You know this stuff is actually oldies,” she pointed out when something from the early years of Kiss started to play. “That’s probably why the crowd is fairly tame. Can’t have us seniors in a mosh pit. No room for our walkers.”

  Dalton grabbed her hand. “There’s nothing senior about you, or the way you make me feel. I could swear I’m fifteen again.”

  “I remember you at fifteen. You were quieter than you are now. A little awkward. A little shy. Good sense of humor, though. And you always helped the smaller kids.” She gave him a warm smile. “You haven’t changed.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “A good thing.”

  “I remember you at fifteen.” Dalton chose his words carefully. “All knees and elbows. Long hair flying when you ran; and you were always in a hurry. Always running.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand in a gentle caress that sent an electric shock down to her toes. “Are you still?”

  “Hmmm?” She’d gotten lost in the sensation.

  “Are you still running?”

  Deliberately obtuse, she answered, “Three days a week. Keeps me in shape.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “Let’s dance.” And change the subject, she thought, as she pulled him onto the small dance floor.

  It was answer enough. He followed her willingly.

  EV’s plan—at the time—had been to choose dancing music that would force him to keep his distance. Given the option of a do-over, she might have made a different choice. The idea of being with Dalton was growing on her. Like a fungus.

  Until he started to dance.

  His moves looked like Elaine from Seinfeld and Carlton from Fresh Prince had a baby. Needing to see if people were staring, EV added a full turn. When she spun back to face him again, he was cracking up.

  “Gotcha,” he mouthed before moving into a smooth rhythm that matched her own.

  She flashed him a grin. The song ended, and the next one began with a strong beat. EV let herself fall into the music until it took over her body, giving her time to think.

  How long, she asked herself, has it been since you’ve done anything more than date and dash? Since you felt comfortable enough to laugh with someone?

  The way Dalton’s eyes rested on her felt like a balm laid over her soul. The empathy he showed in that single look said he wanted her in more ways than merely the physical. Not since Remy had she let a man get this close to touching that vulnerable part of her where need lived.

  But do you want him? Could you love him?

  God help her, the answer was yes.

  Chapter 12

  Deciding to funnel her frustration into productivity, Chloe settled into her second-floor home office and booted up her computer. Her column had been all over the place the last few weeks; she covered the deaths that had occurred, along with the aftermath. Ponderosa Pines had been turned upside down after the loss of the Plunkett brothers, and Chloe had tried to use her column as reassurance that everything would be alright.

  Now, things around the Pines had mostly returned to normal. Though she wasn’t grasping at straws for material, it was back to the usual small-town gossip that was her bread and butter.

  Chloe checked the Pine Cone automated tip line and received a deluge of comments regarding the mysterious figure seen traipsing through the woods, along with a number of what could only be described as complaints about disappearing items. She transcribed the details of each tip in a notebook, the way she always d
id before opening the Cone’s Facebook page. That’s when she realized her town was in for a rough ride.

  Sabra’s post had gone viral. In two day’s time, her Yeti photo garnered 96 shares. Sasquatch enthusiasts from around the country were positively giddy at the possibility of a real, live Bigfoot. Chloe clicked on Sabra’s profile and read through each comment.

  The vast majority of responses were of the logical variety; many people seemed to think the photo was touched up, while others claimed to see nothing more than a hairy man. Still, it was the believers, no matter how small a subset, that made Chloe nervous.

  She clicked on a few twitter hash tags left by the more exuberant comment posters, and discovered a couple of groups dedicated to the investigation of seemingly-legitimate Sasquatch sightings. Not only had Sabra created a buzz, she had also given away her exact location via the inn’s Facebook page. Now any weirdo who actually thought the photo would lead to an authentic Bigfoot sighting could click a link and download directions to Ponderosa Pines.

  Chloe had no choice but to cover all legitimate news—and this was surely legitimate news— but she hated to add more fuel to the fire. Setting her concerns aside, Chloe penned the latest edition of ‘Babble & Spin’ for the Pine Cone.

  Hey, Piniacs, are you ready to dish? Looks like things around the forest haven’t completely returned to normal. A certain inn owner caught a photo of our Midnight Marauder taking some building materials back to his hideout in the woods. Sure, he looked a little like a Sasquatch, but let’s be real, people! Internet notoriety for mystical creatures probably isn’t the best way for our town to stay under the radar.

  And what’s this I hear about our favorite police officer being spotted at Mama Nancy’s with an attractive redhead? Sorry, Ladies, but it looks like Inspector Hottie might be off the market after all. I thought for sure he’d wind up with a well-known blond on his arm, but perhaps I was mistaken…had to happen sometime, right?