Tea Cups and Carnage (27 page)

She shook her head. “Nope, it’s time for me to head back to Daddy. He’s been with a caregiver for a couple weeks now and I’m heading home to tell her she’s out of a job. It’s sad when the money tree shrivels up and dies.”

“You’ll be okay. I’ll send money as soon as I can. We have to work together now that it’s just the three of us.” Kathi patted her sister on the back. For the first time, I saw the affection and mutual respect the two sisters held for each other. When Ivy nodded, Kathi turned to me. “I wanted to drop this off to you.” She handed me the basket. It was filled with Tea Hee’s special blend and a cute teapot and set of four cups. “I’m hoping you’re still willing to add the blend to your menu.”

“Of course.” I took the basket and set it down beside me. “I’m glad you’re still opening your store. We needed fresh blood in the Business-to-Business meeting.”

“Blame your boyfriend for that. He’s the one who took down Bobby and made it safe for me to stay here. I was planning on starting over again but Greg says Bobby should be in jail for a long time, if not forever.” She looked at her watch. “We’ve got to go. Ivy’s got a plane to catch in a few hours and we haven’t even cleaned her room out at The Castle.”

“It was really nice to meet you Ivy. I hope you come visiting again, real soon.” I was able to say it with a completely straight face.

“Thanks, I love it here. I’ll be back soon.” Ivy waved at the other two women. “See you all later.”

The two women left the coffee shop and I returned to the couch where Aunt Jackie and Sasha were sitting. Sasha dug in the basket and took out the teapot and cups. “Seems like you’re getting pretty chummy with the beauty queen.”

“Our new business owner, not a former beauty queen,” Aunt Jackie chided. “Besides, a woman can’t help being beautiful. It’s a curse one has to live with one’s entire life. You don’t realize how tiring it can be.”

I started chuckling first, then Sasha joined me.

Aunt Jackie looked at the two of us like we were nuts. “I think the stress has gotten to you both.” She sniffed and picked up the laptop. A few minutes later, she grabbed the calendar. “We need to change up our December plans.”

“Wait, why? I like the idea of doing a book drive for the Bakerstown Boys and Girls club. And we have to participate in whatever Darla has up her sleeve for South Cove, so that’s going to keep us pretty busy.” I pointed to the already colored lines we’d used to indicate when a project or a signing was occurring. “See, filled.”

“We need at least one weekend for this. I guess from his email, we could host it in early January.” Jackie turned the page and looked at our January schedule.

“Host what? Or who?” I looked at Sasha who shrugged saying she didn’t know what the heck was going on either.

“Nathan Pike just emailed us and wants to do a signing while he’s here writing his next book. I guess he’s already talked to the mayor about getting a month of exclusive access to Greg and the police force here. He wants to make his book more realistic for the smaller town he’s writing this time.”

“The mystery author Nathan Pike?” He’d been our Cloaked in Mystery author over a year ago and his books were still selling well out of the store. Then her words hit me. “Wait, Greg doesn’t know about this, does he?”

It was Aunt Jackie’s turn to shrug. “It’s not like you have to tell him. Let his boss, the mayor, break the news.”

“Whoever does it, Greg’s not going to be happy. The last time he did a ride-along, the guy almost shot Greg with his own gun.” I thought about our upcoming trip. “Maybe Nathan will change his mind between now and January. It could happen.”

Sasha giggled. “And pigs can fly.”

I closed up the planning calendar and gathered my stuff to head home. Emma and I had some porch sitting to do and Greg would be over for dinner. And I wasn’t going to ruin that with a possible issue over six months away.

“We’ll see you tomorrow.” I headed out the door and pondered the meaning of family again. My immediate family seemed to be growing day by day. I thought that might just be all right.

The family you build is much stronger than your birth family. Or at least that was my mantra for today. I might just paint it on a rock for my garden.

The sun beat on my face and the wind brought over a slight salty ocean breeze. Life was good today.

The End

Keep reading for a sneak peek at

The first book in Lynn Cahoon’s new series

Available September 2016

From Kensington Books

And be sure to keep an eye out for More books in the Tourist Trap series!

Available from Lyrical Underground

When Thomas Wolfe said you can’t go home again, Cat Latimer wondered if he knew he was full of crap. She stood at the turret window looking out on her back yard in Aspen Hills, Colorado. During her marriage, she’d made this circular room into her office. The wall-to-ceiling built-in bookshelves were now bare, waiting to be refilled with the rare and not-so-rare books she’d collected during her two years as an English professor over at Covington College. She brushed her fingers over the cool window glass, not quite believing she was back.

“So you’re just standing around, staring out the window? You realize we’ll have guests arriving in less than two weeks.” Shauna walked into the room and put her arm around Cat. “You aren’t thinking about Michael, are you?”

Shauna Mary Clodagh had been her best friend since the minute she met the tiny, redheaded bartender at the local pub near the apartment she’d rented in Los Angeles. It hadn’t been the best job, but Cat had jumped at the first teaching position that took her away from Aspen Hills.

Into the frying pan, her mother would have said. But she didn’t regret her years in California. She’d learned how to surf, or at least how not to drown. She hoped that skill would keep her above water now.

“I love this office. I always wanted to write here. Not grade papers, not work on lesson plans, just write the stories in my head.”

“Now you can. But first, I need to talk to you about the breakfast menus. I’ve baked a few batches of different muffins and breads to try. Oh, and the handyman called back and he’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning.” Shauna looked out the window. “You really lucked out on this deal. Good thing Michael was too busy dating all those co-eds to remarry or change his will.”

“Brutal. Good thing you’re my friend.” Cat picked up a notebook and a pen. “Let’s go walk through the guest rooms on the second floor and make a list of what needs to be finished so the guy can get right to work.”

As she shut the door to the office, she thought about Shauna’s words. Why
hadn’t
Michael left the house and his estate to someone in his family? She vaguely remembered him talking about a cousin somewhere in eastern Washington. She sighed. There was no use trying to figure out what Michael had been thinking, the house was hers again.

This time,
she
would make her own decisions.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Aspen Hill’s largest employer and claim to fame was Covington College. The small liberal arts school was located just a few blocks away from 700 Warm Springs, her new-slash-old home. Cat made her way to the Abigail Smith building, home of the English Department and her former employer.

Behind the front desk was a large trophy case with a lighted sealed section for the Covington English Department Cup. Each year, the professors voted on the student with the most potential to make his or her mark in their career. When Cat had been a professor, she’d taken the voting seriously, nominating several of her exceptional students. One, a budding poet, got shortlisted, but mostly, she noticed the final nominations looked like a popularity contest rather than true talent. She squinted to see who had won the cup this year and paused. Sara Laine. She pulled out the list Shauna had given her. Yep, it was the same. She had a cup winner attending her retreat.

A student sat at the reception desk, reading. She looked up as Cat stopped at the desk.

“You need help?” She put her finger on the line to mark her place and waited for Cat’s response.

“I’ve got an appointment with Dean Vargas. Can I just go to his office?” Cat nodded down the hall. Some things never changed, especially the fact that the dean of the department always had the biggest office.

“Whatever.” The girl went back to her reading. Work-study jobs on campus tended to be more ‘make work’ positions, so Cat didn’t blame the girl for being bored out of her skull.

Knocking on the door, a muffled voice answered, “Come in, it’s not locked.”

She peeked around the door, making sure the man was alone. Michael wasn’t the only professor with a history of enjoying time with the female students. “Dean Vargas? Do you have a minute?”

“Well, if it isn’t the prodigal daughter come home. So good to see you, Catherine.” Dean Vargas stood and stepped around his desk. He looked the same as he had when she’d put in her resignation letter two years ago. Hair gently graying, he stood tall and trim. She’d never been able to pin point his exact age and several times when she was teaching
The Picture of Dorian Gray
, Dean Vargas’s image had come to mind. “So how are sales of that
Tales of a Teenage Vampire
book going?”

Cat thought about correcting him on the title, but knew he wouldn’t remember anyway. “Very well, thank you for asking. The book is getting great reviews from the major players.” She pulled out a list of next week’s retreat guests from her tote and handed it to him. “I’m glad we could settle on the contract terms for the retreat customers. My first group is arriving next week. These are the five people who will need library passes.”

Dean Vargas took the list and without looking at it, set it in a tray on his desk. “I’m happy we could be of assistance. I understand Professor Turner is doing a short presentation on the Hemingway papers as part of the retreat.”

“He is. Hemingway is just such a large part of the American writer mystique, I’m sure all of my guests will enjoy his session.” Cat looked around the office. On a side table, a pile of the university’s latest literary journal set on display. “I’ve loved the last few editions of
The Cove
. I miss working with the journal staff.”

“The new professor we hired to replace you is enjoying the task just as much as you did.” He paused at the desk before returning to sit in his chair, choosing an appropriate look of concern or gravity for his facial expression. “We were shocked to hear about Michael’s passing. He was a vital part of this college. The Economics Department is finding it very hard to replace him with a candidate of his stature.”

Cat didn’t know the etiquette regarding accepting condolences about a divorced, deceased spouse, but she decided it didn’t do anyone any good to be rude or point out the obvious. “Michael will be missed by many people.” She wondered if Dean Vargas had guessed her husband’s extracurricular activities had been the reason behind the split, but decided to take the high road anyway. She adjusted her tote. “Anyway, lots to do. Thank you again.”

Dean Vargas nodded and focused on his monitor. “You are most welcome. However, in the future, there’s no need for you to bring this over in person. Just drop the list off in the mail. Good-day, Catherine.”

Dismissed from his Excellency’s presence, she hurried out of the building, hoping not to meet anyone else from her past. Dean Vargas had been a jerk to work for back then and he was still a jerk today. Hell, he probably was born a jerk. With that thought lifting her spirits, she strolled through the commons to the street. Walking back to the house, she soaked in the warm, autumn sunlight. Indian summer, her mother would have called the warm October day. School had been in session for a few weeks, so students were hanging around the grounds as she walked by, enjoying the summer’s last hurrah of warmth.

A police car pulled up next to her, two short blasts of the siren made her jump, and brought her back to reality. The passenger window eased down and an officer leaned across toward her. “You know there’s no loitering in town. I may have to arrest you.”

“I’d like to see you explain that at the family reunion next summer.” She squatted down by the car, her arms resting on the open window. “How are you, Uncle Pete? I was planning on stopping by the house as soon as I got settled.”

“Old and crotchety, just like always. How’re the house renovations going? You going to be up and ready for that group coming in next week?” He took off his baseball cap and rubbed his head with his free hand. “If you need me, I can come over and help this weekend. I’m knee-deep in paperwork from the college opening, but I could spare a few hours.”

Cat shook her head. “You don’t worry about it. Shauna has found a handyman who works at a reasonable rate.” She checked her watch, “In fact, he should be there right now.”

Her uncle frowned. “The only handyman around these parts is—” The radio in his car blared and he paused, turning his attention to the dash.

“Chief? They need you over at campus security. Some kid brought his stash of pot. I guess he didn’t realize he had to be 21.” The dispatcher sounded like she was in another town, on the other side of the mountain, and in a well.

“Sounds like you’re busy, I’ll let you go.” Cat tapped the car. “You stop in for coffee and a treat some morning. I’d love for you to meet Shauna.”

Her uncle peered at her for a second before the radio blared again.

“Chief?”

He pulled out the microphone. “I heard you.” Putting it back on the holder, he smiled. “I’ll drop by soon. We might have something to talk about.”

Chief Pete Edmond gunned the engine in his black Dodge Charger and pulled away from the curb.

Cat watched him as the car made its way up the road to the Administration Building. “The guy gets weirder every year.” She loved her uncle, but sometimes—like now—he could be cryptic about the silliest things. She returned to her stroll and was walking up the stone path to her front porch when someone barreled through the front door and down the porch steps, a sheet of plywood in his large rough hands.