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

  Speaking of which, how many dates can one gal go on over the course of a week? Blondie has been spotted leaving her house in a different vehicle several times—and returning home early each evening. Maybe she’ll find a pearl among the oysters, but for now, it looks like a bust.

  Last, but not least, remember that Yetis are sneaky. Local law enforcement needs all the help they can get—so let ‘em know if anything else goes missing. Ta-ta for now!

  Chloe hated writing about herself more than anything, but figured she could at least use her column to get a rise out of Nate. Besides, the occasional tidbit kept people from suspecting her as the anonymous author. If her identity were revealed, she’d probably lose her position at the paper—not to mention the dubious distinction of being first ‘Babble & Spin’ columnist in history to be outed. That was not an option, so she proofed and printed the copy without another thought.

  * * *

  “I want my ceramic gargoyle back.” Lottie Calabrese ranted to EV, who had rushed over to Lottie’s after receiving a panicked, incoherent phone call. “Engelbert belongs in the middle of that patch of mums.” Lottie explained, pointing a wrinkled finger. “He was there yesterday afternoon when I was raking leaves, and late last night when I let Drambuie out. Now he’s gone! Kidnapped! It’s that thief the police can’t seem to catch; I know it!” EV couldn’t help wanting to chuckle at the urgency in Lottie’s voice. She was assuming Drambuie was the cat, and Engelbert was the gargoyle.

  Lottie owned Open House, one of two almost-identical establishments located on the same road—the infamous Sabra was her neighbor and business rival. Mostly, Lottie hoped to land a husband; which was why she took on long-term lodgers and gave preference to any good-looking male applicants. Today, even in her hysterical state, Lottie had taken the time to apply a full face of makeup and hoist her considerable breasts into a push-up bra that truly did seem to defy gravity.

  Looking over Lottie’s shoulder at a car in the distance, EV asked, “Did you call Nate Harper about this?” An answer was unnecessary; Nate rounded the corner at the end of the street, ramrod posture showing determination; he headed straight for Lottie’s driveway. EV’s hawk eyes registered the change of expression that came over his face when he caught sight of her: irritation mixed with grudging acceptance.

  Ignoring EV, save for a polite nod in her direction, Nate spent a few minutes listening to Lottie describe the scintillating events of the previous evening and this morning. Once he had taken down the information, and collected a photograph of Engelbert—without commenting on the fact that Lottie actually had a photograph of a ceramic gargoyle—Nate slid back into his car. Before he could put it in gear, EV hopped into the passenger seat. “Can we talk for a minute, please?” she asked in a sweet, but unconvincing tone.

  “Cut to the chase, EV. What were you even doing here? You live farther away than I do, so she must have called you first. Now, I realize that kidnapped ceramic gargoyles aren’t the most exciting cases, but they’re the most exciting we’re going to get in this town, and it would be nice to at least be the first call in the event of an.. um… emergency.” Nate finished lamely.

  “She did call me first, and I’m sorry that’s an affront to your considerable manhood, but it’s beside the point. I know you don’t appreciate my input, but this whole Midnight Marauder business has me a little worried. You know that photo Sabra posted has gone viral, don’t you?” Nate nodded. “And there’s a group of people who think it’s the real thing—Bigfoot hunters, for crying out loud. Sabra’s profile includes the inn’s address; I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them showed up here.”

  Nate’s right eyebrow, which had been slowly rising during EV’s proclamation, had now hit its limit near his hairline. “You’re telling me you think a bunch of Bigfoot hunters are going to show up in town looking for proof of an authentic sighting?” He ran his hands through his hair in a characteristic gesture, causing it to spike up in all directions.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. If we can figure out who this guy actually is, maybe we can take the heat off the town. And stop this theft nonsense, which would definitely get things back to normal around here. I’m getting a little tired of intrigue, to tell you the truth.”

  “Hold on a second. First of all, there is no “we” here, unless you mean myself and Dalton. You are not a detective, and you need to stay out of this so you don’t get yourself into trouble. I’ve already started researching missing persons and similar crimes. This person could be dangerous, no matter how innocent these thefts may seem.” Nate warned with a pointed frown, though he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he would have to have this conversation.

  “Okay. Okay, I give. I’ll try to stay out of it; but I can’t guarantee my neighbors will let me.” Even though she knew it was childish, EV crossed her fingers behind her back. She did not intend to stay out of it—no matter what—still, she would play along if it would get Nate—and Dalton—off her back.

  “So,” she said, changing the subject abruptly. “What’s going on with you and Chloe?”

  Nate trying his best not to look taken aback, affected a stony expression, and answered. “You know I’ve always thought of you as a second mother, but you do know I already have one meddling, pain-in-the-butt, don’t you? I really don’t need another one. What’s going on between Chloe and me is between the two of us. I think you’ve done enough, setting her up on all those dates.”

  And there it was; he wouldn’t have mentioned the dates if he wasn’t irritated by them. Her plan was working. It might not look like it now; in fact, from the outside, EV was sure it would seem that Nate and Chloe, as a couple, were doomed. However, her vast experience told her that this was the eye of the storm; all would come to rights in the end.

  “Point taken, Nathaniel.” She patted him on the hand that was still resting against the gear shifter and exited the car with a wry smile. Yes, I think it will work out, after all. Maybe I should give them one of those cute couple names like Noe or Chlate. Or maybe not.

  Chapter 13

  “Thanks, Elise; you have no idea how much help you’ve been. My hands are tied here; I really appreciate it.”

  “Don’t even mention it, Nathaniel. You’ve pulled me out of so many jams; I’ll still owe you even after we find out who this scumbag is. Remember when you wrestled that cheating husband off me after he caught me taking photos of him with the barely overage stripper? What’s more, I like your little town. It’s so homey and, well, a little quirky, but in a good way.” Elise looked around The Mudbucket, where she and Nate sat at a corner table near the kitchen door.

  She was thoroughly enjoying the Chai latte Rhonda had dropped off, along with a tray of blintzes that looked like white sugar sin and melted in her mouth. “I wonder if I could get Deanna to come check this place out; I bet she’d love to take some photos at one of those festivals you’ve told me about. Bottom line, these people don’t deserve this kind of harassment from some jackass with ulterior motives.”

  Nate tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach—the one that flared up protectively whenever he thought of someone trying to screw with his hometown. As much as he hated to admit it, he was getting more attached to the place every day. He’d left as a callow youth thinking this place was too small to hold him. Or, if he was being brutally honest, that it held too many memories of his mother. Now, that the feeling of home was creeping back, he couldn’t stand the idea that someone would try and ruin what his family had helped build.

  “How is Deanna? I haven’t seen her since that dinner party at your place. I still dream about her yeast rolls, by the way. If you wanted to repay me, maybe we could work out some kind of installment plan with baked goods.” Elise laughed out loud at the dreamy look that swept across Nate’s face.

  This was one man whose heart connected straight to his stomach. And the jerk certainly didn’t look like he ate his weight in carbs on a daily basis, but she knew that fact was true. />
  “I’m sure she’d be happy to accommodate that request. As far as she’s concerned, you’re up on a pedestal. I don’t know how you manage to turn every woman in a ten-mile radius into butter, including those of us who could care less about your man parts.”

  “Must be my magnetic personality.” He intoned wryly, revealing uncharacteristic self-doubt. Elise pounced on it, quick as a cat.

  “What’s up? Did you find someone immune to your charms?” She asked, remembering the beautiful blond woman Nate had introduced to her during their last meeting.

  Nate ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “That was Chloe. And she is, apparently, immune to me completely. It was stupid of me to think she would ever see me as more than her small town friend. No woman has ever held a candle to her, in my opinion. You know what my dating history consists of: it’s not exactly stellar, to say the least. I thought this was my shot, but maybe it’s time for me to really move on.”

  “Are you blind, or just stupid?” Nate’s head whipped up to face Elise straight on. Emotion flashed in his eyes and he gave her a questioning look. “Women who aren’t interested in a man don’t go all PMS the second they see him having dinner with another female. You didn’t feel the ice when she saw you with me? Trust me, I know women—in more ways than one, I might add, and I know when a woman has the hots for someone. My friend, Chloe is totally into you.”

  “Then why does she keep pulling away? It doesn’t make any sense.” Nate looked miserable as he picked at his chocolate eclair.

  “Have you talked to her about it?”

  Nate shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Not exactly.”

  “Well, what’s holding you back?”

  “She’s been jet-setting her whole life. She’s been everywhere; seen everything. And I’ve been here—well, not here,” he gestured to indicate the town, “but here-adjacent, plugging away at my career. How can I believe she’d actually be happy settling down with me? At any moment, she could decide she misses her nomadic existence, and run away. Then what would I do?” He finished, miserably.

  “How long has she been in town this time?”

  “Three years.”

  “Seems like wanderlust would have kicked in by now if that’s what was going to happen. And, I thought you had no desire to stay in this town. Aren’t you planning on heading back to the city to reclaim your detective post once your shoulder will allow it?” Elise fixed him with a pointed stare. “Maybe she thinks you’re going to take off, and leave her alone here.”

  It was a shot in the dark, but Elise had no idea how close to the truth she had come. However, it was the first time Nate had thought about the situation from that point of view.

  “I guess that’s a possibility. The thing is—I’ve been having second thoughts about going back to Portland. My apartment has sat empty for months, and I don’t even miss it. The city never felt like home, not the way my Dad’s house here does. I pay out the ass for utilities; someone else takes care of the maintenance; and I’m left with zero sense of accomplishment.

  Getting back to my roots has made me realize that’s not how I was raised, and it’s not what I really want in the grand scheme of things. I thought I’d get married, move to a suburb somewhere, and at least have a home and a life. Instead I eat greasy takeout every night, and my fridge is full of beer and condiments.” He waved his coffee cup at her. “I don’t even mind living with my father for the time being. It’s given us a chance to spend some quality time together. Communal living is starting to look more appealing by the second.” Especially if I’d be communally living in Chloe LaRue’s vicinity. He added silently.

  “Sounds like you have a bit to talk to her about. Don’t shut her out, or assume she knows what’s running through your head. Or that you know what’s going through hers.”

  “You sure you like this private investigator gig? You should have been a therapist. Can we get off the topic of my love life?” He’d had enough of that for now. “Tell me, what did you find out about that alias? Have you come across a real name yet?”

  “That’s why I wanted to see you. It’s looking like there’s more than one person involved in this whole scheme. I’ve found several bits of information, and some of the records overlap. It looks like he’s in two different places at once, which is impossible. Alias #1 checked into a hotel in L.A. at the same time alias #2 was shopping in France. He—or they—have been careful to stay away from security cameras, at least in the States, and I’m not getting anywhere overseas. I did get one hit on a lead that seems connected to someone who used to live here. Does the name Remy Vincent mean anything to you?”

  That name was familiar to him. Nate knew he’d heard it recently, but now he couldn’t remember in what context. “I’ll look into it.”

  He tossed some cash on the table, nodded toward Rhonda, and followed Elise outside.

  “Thanks, Elise. Bring Deanna over for dinner sometime soon. I’ll cook.” Nate hugged his friend before depositing her into her car and watching her drive away. He had a lot to consider; maybe it was time he came clean and told Chloe how he really felt. But first, he’d get the skinny on Remy Vincent.

  * * *

  “We got something!” Nate burst into the Deputy’s office, where Dalton sat behind his desk eating a foot-long turkey Panini from the Mudbucket. A side salad sat untouched, his eyes having been much bigger than his stomach. Dalton pushed the sandwich aside and looked at Nate with rapt attention.

  “Does the name Remy Vincent mean anything to you? It’s the one name that Elise could find with any history. It’s not an alias.” Dalton’s face flushed; his blood ran hot as storm clouds formed behind his eyes. He stood to begin pacing as best he could in the confined room. Anger radiated off him in waves.

  “Yeah, I know him. And if he’s involved, you can bet he won’t stop until he’s destroyed the Pines.”

  “Okay, what’s the deal? What does he have against the town? And why do you hate him so much?”

  Dalton sighed. “He’s EV’s ex-fiancé. I honestly don’t know what she ever saw in him. He put on a good front; played the dutiful citizen, but it was all surface. The jerk had EV convinced he was the patron saint of Ponderosa Pines while he was chasing her around, though. She fell for it. I couldn’t blame her; really, he put on a convincing act.”

  “Give me all the details, no Reader’s Digest version, please. The whole scoop.”

  “Here, eat the other half of my sandwich and I’ll tell you the whole story. But some of it’s personal, and I’d appreciate if it stayed between the two of us.” Dalton handed Nate the untouched half of his Panini. Talking about Remy Vincent was enough to make him lose his appetite.

  “Of course.” Nate settled into his chair, took the sandwich, and nodded his agreement.

  “Remy Vincent is the son of one of the founding members of the commune. You’ve seen the photographs hanging in the town office, right? Check them again and you’ll see the Vincents right next to the Torrences and the LaRues. Anyway, growing up with Remy you could tell he thought he was Ponderosa Pines royalty, as if that were even a thing.” Dalton rolled his eyes at the memory.

  “I’ve lived here all my life, so I had a front row seat for the whole show. He was sneaky, and he knew when to hold his cards close. The commune was in a period of steady growth back then.” Dalton remembered aloud, “It was a tight-knit core of true believers, you could say. Quite a few early members had realized the amount of work involved in building and maintaining the property; for others it was a phase, and once it passed, they moved on. Anyone still here more than 15 years later was committed. Contempt for our way of life wasn’t really tolerated, so Remy toed the line and kept his opinions mostly to himself.”

  Fists clenched at his sides, sneering, Dalton added, “He was pretty vocal about them as long as EV wasn’t around, though. Whether he cared for her or not, he was determined to have her. She was beautiful and vibrant; even as a teenager. Full of vim and vigor. He put on
an act good enough to make everyone think he was in love with her; maybe he was, I don’t know. I never thought so, though. What I do know is that whenever she was around, he played the part of a dedicated environmentalist, activist, and any other ist he thought would appeal to her sensibilities.”

  “And you had a thing for EV, too, didn’t you?” Nate nodded as though he already knew the answer.

  “Yes, I did. I thought the sun rose and set on her. Still do. At the time, I was awkward and full of self-doubt. I didn’t stand a chance. Whenever Remy left during the summers, EV and I spent a lot of time together. As friends, of course. She was loyal, and she waited for him.” Admiration and frustration colored his words.

  “Every year, he’d come back with a chip on his shoulder. He had spent enough time around his snooty grandparents to further inflate his already sizable ego.” Frustration ebbing away, Dalton sank back down in his chair; rested his elbows on the desk.

  “For short periods of time, Remy showed his true face. He treated EV like she wasn’t good enough for him; made pointed comments about how provincial we all were. But Emmalina wasn’t a woman a man easily turned away from; he knew enough not to let her go, whatever his motive might be. They worked it out, and eventually, I washed my hands of the whole situation. I figured if she still couldn’t see him for what he was, there wasn’t anything I was going to say to change her mind. Marlene moved to town, so I turned my attention to someone actually attainable. By the time EV and Remy returned from college, we were happily married.”

  Nearly finished with his story, Dalton shrugged.

  “Remy didn’t stick around, and before he left he shot his mouth off to anyone and everyone about how much he despised this place. Marlene and I were in the process of setting up the cafe when he strode down Main Street and had a temper tantrum in the middle of the square. Yelling and carrying on about how backward we all were, and how much he hated this place. Nearly broke his poor mother’s heart. She wouldn’t even mention his name for the longest time. I think his folks were the only people in town who weren’t relieved to see him go.”