Love in a Nutshell (26 page)

“How are you doing with your parents?” he asked.

“I’m hiding in the bathtub to make this call. No place is private anymore. If I go into my bedroom, my mother wants to have a girl-to-girl. She wants to know if I’m recovering from my divorce. She wants to tell me how to find a new man. I mean, I’m glad we’re talking a whole lot more than we used to, but sometimes I just need a break from her advice.”

He laughed. “That good, eh?”

“That 1960s outlook. I don’t get it, but I guess I don’t have to. Bottom line is that I love her and Dad.”

“I think I’d like your parents,” he said.

Kate smiled. “You probably would. And they’d like you, too.”

They were silent, but it wasn’t in the least uncomfortable.

“So I’d really be doing you a favor if I had you check on Chuck?”

Kate’s smile had taken up permanent residence. “Definitely.”

“Actually, that would be great,” he said. “Lizzie has promised to stop by, but she has the next couple of days off. Before I enlisted her, she’d been talking about visiting a college friend downstate.”

“I’d be happy to cover for her. Really.”

“Well, thank you. I’m going to try to hustle it along, but I need to meet with my attorney and get things wrapped up with Chet before we get any closer to Thursday and family time.”

“Thanksgiving … That’s kind of a tough time of the year to be doing something like that. I never thought I’d say it, but I almost feel sorry for poor Chet.”

She paused before continuing. “I want to tell you something, though.… I know Chet has been thinking about things. He’s probably sitting in his bathtub right now, feeling a little selfish and hoping that he hasn’t messed up a great friendship.”

The bathroom door rattled again.

“Kate, is there someone in there with you?”

“No, Mom, I’m just talking to myself.”

“I worry about you, Kate.”

“I’m fine. Promise. Could you check on Stella? I think I hear her barking.” Another lie, but she wanted to finish this call.

“Goodness!” her mother said. “That dog is worse than a toddler.”

“I think she’s gone, but I know she’s going to be back,” Kate said to Matt after listening to the sound of her mother’s footsteps fade. “How often should I check on Chuck?”

“Lizzie’s going to be there tonight, but if you could stop out tomorrow morning, then again in the evening, that should work. And Wednesday morning should be good. I’ll be back in the afternoon. And I know he doesn’t like it, but put him on his leash when you let him out. It’s deer season.”

“And you haven’t painted him orange,” she said, and smiled at the sound of his laughter.

“Chuck has enough dignity issues as it is,” he said.

“So true.”

Kate sat upright at the sound of her mother back at the door.

“I have to go. And thank you for letting me watch Chuck.”

Her mother was back, rapping on the door. “Kate? It’s almost dinnertime, and I can’t find a single thing to light the candles.”

*   *   *

AFTER WAITING
an appropriate amount of time to theoretically dry off and get dressed, Kate cruised downstairs. As she’d expected, Dad was slipping Stella some of whatever Mom had served as an appetizer. At least he was keeping his double Manhattan, extra cherries, to himself.

He looked over at Kate. “Who’d have thought a dog would like kippered herring?”

She chose to take the question as rhetorical, since she couldn’t say she knew many humans who liked the stuff. “Just do me a favor and don’t feed her too much.”

He raised his Manhattan and gave her a wink. “All things in moderation, Katie-bug.”

Her mom popped into the room. She was a festival of color this evening. Her dress competed with the sofa for which held the most flowers. But her mom’s dress was more in Monet watercolor shades than the sofa’s warring hues.

“Are you positive you don’t want to join us for dinner, Kate? We’d love more time with you before the rest of the family arrives tomorrow.”

“Thanks, but I’m not all that hungry.”

Which wasn’t quite accurate. She’d turned down dinner before she’d talked to Matt. Now that they’d talked, the knot in her stomach had disappeared and she was starved. But no way was she interrupting what looked to be another major romantic event. She’d just grab something from the kitchen and go read a book.

Kate’s mom looped a lock of her silver-blond hair behind one ear. “Sorry to be a bother, but I still don’t have the candles on the dining table lit. And they set the mood for love, after all.”

Kate managed not to wince. “Let me go look in the kitchen.” She was totally okay with the senior set having an active love life. It was just growing to be TMI as it pertained to her parents.

“Now that I think of it, that might not be necessary.” Kate’s mom gave her husband a teasing smile. “Larry, you must have a lighter with that box of cigars you think you’re hiding from me.”

Her father laughed. “It could be. Let me go check.”

He rose and stopped long enough to kiss her mom’s cheek. Kate smiled. Her parents made love and intimacy look easy. She could learn a thing or two from them.

*   *   *

SUNRISE WAS
approaching. Still, Kate couldn’t sleep. Even her furry Stella comforter, who snored from the next pillow over, hadn’t been enough. Kate reached for the nightstand lamp and switched it on. Her parents’ talk of lighters and love had dug its way into her mind. Until she figured out why, she was back in insomnia land.

“Lighters and love,” she said aloud, not that Stella woke to listen.

Kate opened the nightstand drawer. Maybe if she wrote down everything she’d been dwelling on, she could sleep. Before she could even reach for paper, though, an image of Laila lighting jack-o’-lanterns outside Depot Brewing popped into her head.

But why?

Kate flopped back against her pillow and focused on the details of that moment. It had been cold and windy, and Kate had been crushing on Matt. Nothing new there.…

Laila had used the same kind of lighter Harley carried. That would be no biggie, except it had been fancy, complete with crystals. Like a gift from a sweetheart. Maybe one who had a lighter collection, like Harley Bagger. Kate considered the concept of a Harley-Laila hookup. Both were single, so why not? The idea was kind of cute.

Or maybe not so cute, after all.

She’d finally made the connection. Between the two of them, they had every event of vandalism covered.

Kate bolted from bed and went to her dresser. She pulled out the stuff she’d found on the floor at Depot Brewing before she’d taken her beer Slip ’n Slide ride.

The white cocktail napkin meant nothing. It could be found in a hundred bars within a hundred miles of Keene’s Harbor. But the string, that was another story. She twisted it, noting the slender red thread laced through it. This was no ordinary utility twine, and now she was pretty sure she knew what it was.

Taking care not to disturb her parents, Kate padded downstairs to the computer set up in the corner of the living room. She fed a couple of words into the images section of her favorite search engine.

“Bingo!” she said as she looked at the pictures on the screen.

The string in question was a replacement wick for a vintage windproof lighter. Laila had been laid up and couldn’t have turned on the taps. But her lover could have. Kate had pegged at least one saboteur. His name was Harley Bagger.

*   *   *

TUESDAY MORNING
was still fresh with frost, and already Matt was running out of reasons to stay in Traverse City. A two-day trip had made sense when it had seemed easier to be far away from Kate than close enough to rush things and do something stupid. Now that they were talking, he was all for soon and stupid.

He’d met with his attorney over coffee at seven, and a suit would be filed to collect from Chet unless the brewer was willing to settle out of court. For both their sakes, he hoped Chet would.

A quick stop out to see Travis last night had been positive and productive. The guy had come up with a business plan and some ideas for a citrus summer beer to celebrate the opening of the Tropicana. All was well with the world.

Almost.

At just past nine, Matt walked out of his office and into Ginger’s reception area. She looked up from the crossword puzzle she was doing.

“What’s a four-letter word for idiot?” she asked.

“Matt.”

“Really. Throw me a word.”

“Dolt.”

She frowned down at the puzzle, then smiled up at him. “That fits.”

And it fit him, too. Since when had he not grabbed for what he wanted?

“Can you call and reschedule tomorrow’s meetings until next week?” he asked.

“Sure. What’s the matter?”

“Unfinished business back home.”

Ginger snorted. “Right. Business. Blond unfinished business, maybe?”

“Yeah, another four-letter word, and it means happiness,” Matt said.

He’d let Ginger guess on her own, because he wanted to get home and grab love.

*   *   *

KATE GLARED
at her cell phone as she parked in front of Matt’s place. It wasn’t quite ten, and already she’d struck out on three separate calls.

First, she’d called Matt, but the call went straight to voice mail. Then she’d called the police station and come up empty. She’d sort of expected that, since she’d noticed the office was unattended a lot this time of year. Clete’s voice on the answering machine had instructed her to hang up and call 911 if this was an emergency. Having a suspicion of who’d been sabotaging Matt didn’t seem to fit the bill, so she’d left Clete a message, asking him to call her as soon as possible.

Because she was trying to be thorough, she’d done the same on Lizzie’s voice mail, even though she knew Matt’s sister was probably on her way downstate. She’d try all three again, once Chuck had been fed and loved.

Kate exited her Jeep. The air was crisp enough so that it felt sharp in her lungs. By the time evening fell, it was going to be nose-numbingly cold out here in the country. She’d be back at The Nutshell by then, and Chip and Bunny and their respective crews would be, too. All the more reason to cherish the quiet out here.

But as Kate walked toward the front door, a “
Buh-woof”
sounded from the back of the house.

She halted. Only one dog she’d ever met had a voice that could carry with such conviction.

“Chuck?”

“Buh-woof.”

Kate rounded the side of the house, her shoes sweeping through the blanket of leaves underfoot. Chuck stood on the back deck, tail wagging.

“Dude, when did you become an escape artist?”

“Buh-woof.”

He butted the back door with one broad shoulder, begging to get in. She supposed that Lizzie might have accidentally left him out when she’d departed last night. Kate pulled out her keys, opened the back door, and ushered Chuck in. He gazed up at her with worried hound eyes and let roll another round of
“Buh-woof.”

“I don’t speak dog as fluently as your owner, so we’re going to have to play a game of twenty questions. I know you don’t need to go out, so what’s the deal?”

“Buh-woof.”

“Water? Do you need water?”

He wagged his tail.
“Buh-woof.”

Kate checked out Chuck’s water bowl. Over half remained, but, hey, she appreciated the concept of not drinking one’s own slobber. If he wanted fresh, fresh he’d get. She bent over to pick up the bowl and caught a faint whiff of something. Thought number one was that Chuck had passed gas, but the scent was more wood smoke than unpleasant.

“You’re off the hook, buddy.”

“Buh-woof.”

“You’re welcome.” She rinsed his bowl at the kitchen sink, and the same scent grew strong enough to make her eyes burn.
Just like fire
.

Chuck’s metal bowl clattered against the bottom of the aluminum sink as the thought sunk in. Kate turned off the water and followed the scent to the main living area. Flames flickered through a haze of suffocatingly thick smoke.

Okay, so
buh-woof
meant
The place is burning, you idiot human!

Kate turned back to the kitchen, grabbed Chuck by his collar, and hauled him toward the back door. She needed him safe before she did anything else. He dug in his heels once they’d reached the back deck.

“Come on, buddy.”

It seemed unsporting to shove a three-legged dog along, but it was for his own safety. Once they were on solid ground, Kate pulled her cell phone from her jeans pocket, dialed 911, and waited. When the operator came on the line, Kate said “fire” and gave Matt’s address. Then she caught a glimpse of Chuck going back inside.

“Are you out of the house?” the operator asked. “Can you tell me what’s going on, ma’am?”

“Chuck, no!”

But Chuck didn’t seem to speak human any better than she spoke dog, because he kept going. It was her fault for leaving the door open, and she’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t make an effort to snag the hound. And she never, ever wanted to have to tell Matt how she’d screwed up.

“Just please get the trucks here,” she said to the operator, then hung up and jammed the phone back into her pocket.

Kate climbed the deck’s steps. “Chuck, come on out!” She could risk this. The fire had been limited to the front room, and while Chuck was crafty, speed wasn’t part of his repertoire.

Kate stepped inside, and the smell of smoke assailed her. It now drifted in a thick haze at ceiling height.

Stupid dog
.

“Chuck, treat! Side of beef! Whole turkey!”

Kate started coughing. She should have asked Matt what magic words brought his dog running. But all she could do now was go inside. Of all the fire advice she’d ever learned, she discarded
get out
and focused on
stay low
.