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 stonotaligmach 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.
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 ordina waed back agry 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. 201
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 “
