“So no leads at all?”

  He shrugged. “None that look better or worse than any of the others. I’m intrigued by this missing wife lead, though. Maybe that will pan out to be something. I appreciate your help with the research there.”

  “Any time.” My tone must have held a bit too much excitement at the thought of helping Greg with future investigations because he laughed and stood, squeezing my shoulder as he walked by.

  “Don’t get too comfortable here. You know I’m not thrilled with you poking your nose into these investigations. People die. Other people are killers. This isn’t a book.” He slipped out onto the porch.

  “I know it’s not a book, because then I could skip to the end and find the killer.” The window was open, so I knew he could hear me. But maybe he wasn’t paying attention. I stood and closed my laptop. Then I reached for the plates. “Although that is cheating, and I rarely do that.”

  “Rarely as in never, or rarely as in always, but you don’t want me to think badly of you for skipping ahead?” He came back inside to get a platter.

  “I plead the fifth.” I took the salad out of the fridge, as well as a fruit bowl I’d made earlier. I’d also picked up a loaf of fresh French bread at the store, so I put that on the table with butter. We had chocolate chip cookies for dessert. As I waited for Greg to bring in the kabobs, I surveyed the spread. Not meat and potatoes, but a good dinner nonetheless. At least I thought so.

  “And here’s the star of the meal.” Greg set the platter in the middle of the table, then pointed to Emma’s bed. “Go lie down. You know you’re not getting anything tonight.”

  Emma looked at me for support, but I shook my head. “Sorry, girl, no human food. You have dog food in the mudroom.”

  Instead of heading to the mudroom, Emma plopped on her bed and stared at us, hunger filling her eyes.

  “She looks pitiful, like we never feed her.” Greg laughed and then sat down. “This looks great, Jill. Thanks.”

  Surprised, I smiled and sat next to him. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure you’d approve.”

  “Any meal I don’t have to plan or think about is all right with me.” He squeezed my hand. “I appreciate you.”

  “That’s nice to know.” I felt warm and loved. I was about to reciprocate with a long kiss, but a knock on the front door interrupted us.

  He stood and glanced at the kabobs. “At least it’s portable.”

  “Don’t jinx us. It’s just a salesman. Or Esmeralda wanting to borrow a cup of sugar.” I moved the platter closer to the middle of the table. I didn’t want Emma to think that the fact we had walked away meant she could help herself. I stood at the edge of the kitchen so I could see both the door and the table. Emma put her head between her front paws.

  I had a bad feeling about our visitor.

  Chapter 13

  When Greg opened the door at first, I couldn’t see anyone; then he stepped back and Mike Masters walked into our living room. He smiled and waved at me. I returned to the table and moved the food onto the cabinet and the kabobs into the microwave. They just might stay warm if our uninvited guest didn’t stay too long. I filled a fresh glass with iced tea and took it and mine out to the living room. “Greg, this is the writer I was telling you about. Mike Masters. Mike, how do you like your tea?”

  “Black is fine. Thank you.” He reached out and shook Greg’s hand. “Look, I know you all have been busy here, what with Frank’s death and all, but I wanted to talk to you again about the Mission Wall. We don’t want a piece of California history to be forgotten for centuries again. The wall waited for years to be found, and when you took the steps to preserve it, that meant something.”

  Greg motioned to the chair and the iced tea I’d set down in front of it. “It meant Jill’s been put in limbo for the last four or five years. That’s all. Sit down, Mr. Masters. We’ll hear you out, but ultimately, it’s Jill’s house and her decision.”

  Mike sat and sipped his tea. “This is good. I’ve been grabbing one at the shop before I start my afternoon writing session. Your barista is a real character.”

  “Deek has his moments.” I sat down next to Greg on the couch. “Look, I’m not sure I’m refiling the application.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re selling to that developer!” Mike set down the glass on the coaster a little too hard. “A piece of history is worth a lot more to South Cove than a water park.”

  “I didn’t say I was selling to anyone. And how do you know about the developer?” I leaned forward, watching his reaction.

  “I’m a writer. I watch everything. I overhear people talking.” He squirmed a little in the chair.

  When Greg raised an eyebrow, Mike blushed. “Okay, so I eavesdrop. It’s not illegal.”

  “Illegal, no, but it’s rude.” Greg didn’t move from his spot. He had his arm draped casually around the couch. He looked relaxed, but I’d taken a body language class. For men, taking up as much space as possible was a power move.

  “I’ll agree with that. I just hate to see guys like that win. They come into these small towns, promise the moon, and when the parks don’t make money, they leave. And the park falls apart with disuse. They’re like those frackers in the west. All they want is the money. When the money runs out, they’re gone.” He took another sip of his tea.

  “I said I wasn’t selling. In fact, I’ve told everyone I’m not selling.” I glanced at Greg. “They can’t make me sell, right? I mean, the mayor had been pressuring Miss Emily to sell, but that was because of the way she kept up the place. Now the lawn’s all green and I’ve painted the house.”

  “No, honey, they can’t make you sell.” Greg squeezed my shoulder. Then he focused on Mike. “Look, I get it. You want to include the wall in your next book. If we get anxious about the city trying to push this on us—I mean, on Jill—she might be more agreeable to letting you include the story. But they aren’t going to intimidate anyone, not in my town. And neither are you.”

  Mike held up his hands. “I’m not the bad guy here. I’m trying to help. Look, I heard the developer talking to his girlfriend. He said that the process is working and he should have this deal sealed up in a few days. I don’t know what process he was talking about, but I think the two of you should be careful. These guys mean business.”

  Greg and I exchanged a look. If the developer was behind my issues at the store, it also meant that Alice Carroll might be in with the developer. This all had started just a few days ago. Frank had tried to warn me about something. “Wait, how did you know he was talking to his girlfriend?”

  “I was at the county records place, looking up land deals. I heard Aaron Presley talking on the phone to someone, and man, they were hot and heavy. I figured it was a girlfriend and not a wife, because it was the fun, flirty stuff you do at the beginning of a relationship, you know?” He blushed again. “Then he said he’d be back in the city sooner than he’d expected because things were going really well.”

  “Did you hear her name?” I leaned forward again, hoping that he’d say Alice. If she and the developer were having an affair, I could use that to get her kicked off the Council. I already knew she’d used Tia to do some of the dirty work. Even if the mayor hated me, he wouldn’t stand for these kinds of shenanigans. That was his area of expertise.

  “No, yes, maybe.” Mike shrugged and held up his hands. “I don’t know. He had all kinds of pet names for her. Baby, honey, sweetheart. And something else, but I can’t remember. It was a couple of days ago, and I was trying to hear if he’d say anything about the development. I wanted to have something solid to bring when I came to talk to you.”

  “Well, if that’s all, we’re done for tonight. Jill has dinner waiting for us and I hate to let food grow cold.” Greg stood. “We have your number. As soon as she makes a decision, she’ll call.”

  Mike popped up out of the chair. “I promise the write-up will be glowing and fair. And I’ll let you read the section before I send it to my editor.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet,” I reminded him as he shook first Greg’s hand and then mine.

  “I know, and I appreciate you hearing me out. I think it’s important to have a dialogue about how we honor the past and those that have gone before, don’t you?” He moved toward the door, still chatting. When he got outside on the porch, he paused and looked at the house. “It would be a shame for anything to happen to such a lovely house.”

  We watched him leave and then went inside, Greg locking the door and the deadbolt before following me into the kitchen. I reset the table and didn’t look at him when I asked him the question that had been haunting me. “Did that sound like a threat?”

  Greg hugged me. “Nothing is going to happen to your house or your shop. Not on my watch.”

  As I got out the kabobs and filled my plate, I wondered if he could really stand behind that promise. Or if it was just wishful thinking.

  After dinner, Greg helped me clean up the kitchen. He leaned over and kissed me. “Sorry to do this, but I’m going into the office to check some emails and do some research. Something Mike said earlier has me twitching a bit.”

  “And you’re not going to tell me.” I dried my hands on a towel. “No biggie; I have a book to read anyway.”

  Tomorrow was going to be a busy day without Toby, and I really wanted to get to the end of the story. I was curled up on the swing on the back deck, my iced tea almost all gone next to me, when the phone rang. I glanced at the display and put down the book before I answered.

  “Hey, Aunt Jackie, what’s going on?” I hoped it wasn’t anything with the shop. I really couldn’t deal with another issue right now.

  “I’m just closing up the shop and wanted to talk to you about this Vegas trip at the end of the month.” I heard clatter as she moved cups from the dishwasher and back on the shelves.

  “What about it? I sent Amy three suggestions. Don’t tell me she hated all of them and didn’t want to tell me directly.” I really didn’t want to go back into researching a new venue for Amy’s party. When I mark something off my to-do list, I like it to stay marked off.

  “What? No. I mean, she didn’t say anything to me. What in the world did you suggest?”

  I ignored her question. “So, if it’s not about Amy’s party, why are you calling?”

  “Well, Harrold and I want to take you and Greg out to eat while we’re there. So don’t make any plans for Sunday.”

  “Oh, well, that’s nice of you. You know you don’t have to do that.” I didn’t think my aunt had ever offered to buy me a meal before. Aunt Jackie thought eating out was too much work. Probably because she’d worked in the restaurant business for so many years, she didn’t see the draw. Then a thought occurred to me. “Are we going to one of the famous-chef restaurants? Like Emeril’s?”

  My aunt laughed. “Maybe. Just keep the day free for us, okay. And don’t forget to tell Greg. I don’t want him stuck on a blackjack table and not remember.”

  “I don’t even know if Greg plays blackjack.” The phone buzzed in my ear. My aunt had hung up on me. “That’s strange.”

  “I leave you alone for a couple of hours and you’re getting strange phone calls?” Greg came out of the house with two beers. He handed me a bottle. “I thought we’d have a drink before we turn in. I think we should celebrate the fact that Toby never called.”

  “The night is young.” I took the bottle and took a sip. Greg moved my book to the table and sat by me. “No, that was my aunt. She wants to take you and me out during our Vegas trip.”

  “One of the celebrity chef places?” Greg nodded his head. “That would be awesome. I wonder if your aunt knows someone.”

  “That was my thought at first, though she’s being really cryptic about it.” I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Do you play blackjack?”

  “I do. Do you want to learn while we’re there?”

  I could feel his breath on the top of my head. “How do you know I don’t know how to play?”

  “You told me a few years ago. When I was playing with a group of guys from Bakerstown PD. I invited you to come, and you about laughed yourself off the couch.” He picked up Emma’s ball from the deck floor and threw it out into the yard. Emma took off after it. “So why did you ask?”

  I felt my shoulders raise. “No reason. Just something she said. So anyway, keep Sunday free that weekend. I’m sure she’ll have us going to the early bird seating so she can save money.”

  “Sunday is all about you and your aunt. Got it.” He took the drool-soaked ball from Emma and threw it again. Then he wiped his hand on a towel we kept outside just for this reason.

  “And Harrold. He’ll be coming along too.”

  I saw the smile cover Greg’s face before he leaned back into the swing. “I wouldn’t doubt it. I really like the two of them together again. I can’t believe your aunt thought she could get away with dumping him. He’s perfect for her. And almost as stubborn.”

  “I’m sure you’re not saying that people in our family are stubborn.”

  He chuckled and pulled me close. “I like my life. I don’t say stupid things.”

  * * * *

  Saturday morning, I get to sleep in an hour later. We open the shop a little later because no one wants coffee at five in the morning on a Saturday. At least not people who don’t have to be up to get to their city job. I had time to run with Emma, and by the time we were back, Greg was up and working in the kitchen. He had made coffee, and a bag of doughnuts from Lille’s sat on the table.

  “You realize I run to keep off the calories from these things.” I held up a maple bar from the bag and took a large bite. “I’m on a vicious cycle. I eat, therefore I run, so I can eat, so I run.”

  “That’s why I’m so glad they opened the gym in the station. I can sneak in a quick workout in between meetings or first thing in the morning when I get there.” He closed his laptop. And took out an apple fritter. “I don’t mind working out if it means I can eat more of these.”

  “You know you’re supporting a stereotype.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. I needed to get upstairs to shower, but I wanted to stay in the kitchen and chat with Greg.

  “Someone has to.” He grinned and held up the doughnut. “Long live the doughnut. May it always be the breakfast of champions.”

  “Dork.” I finished my maple bar and sipped my coffee. “You working here today?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m going into the station. I’ll see you after your shift. When do you get off, one?”

  “Probably, if Deek’s not slammed. At least he doesn’t have any book club meetings this week.” I drained the last of the coffee from my cup and put it in the sink. “See you later.”

  “Call me if something’s hinky about the store.” He paused and started to stand. “On second thought, maybe I should walk in with you.”

  I put a hand on his shoulder and eased him back into the chair. “There’s no way I’m letting anyone scare me into changing who and what I am. I get it, they want me to sell. I’m not going to. Case closed.”

  “For you maybe. Honey, think about it. They’ve already killed one person.” He stared at me. His aqua-blue eyes seemed troubled.

  Holding up a hand, I recited a pledge. “I promise I will stay on the sidewalk, look both ways before crossing the street, and run like a banshee is after me if I see a car on the road.”

  He smiled and returned his attention to the laptop. “I get it, you’re a big girl. But seriously, if something happened at the shop, call me. I might be able to get some traceable evidence this time. I have a feeling you’re ticking them off.”

  I paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’m about ready to strangle you, myself.” He waved a hand, dismissing me. “Go to work. I’m trying to research here.”

  For all my bravado with Greg, I did feel a little exposed walking to the shop. No one was out and about due to the early hour. Tourists like sleeping in on their vacation, and I appreciated the thought process. Heck, I wanted to sleep in and I lived here. When I arrived at the coffee shop, there were no signs papering the door. The café tables in the front weren’t damaged or thrown through the front display window. The place looked surprisingly normal. I took a deep breath. Maybe the hazing had ended.

  The doors unlocked and the coffee brewing, I was ready for my first customer of the day. It took an hour before anyone showed up. Which wasn’t unusual for a Saturday. When the first person arrived, I was going through the Advanced Reader Copies the publishers had sent that week to see what the next book I was going to read would be.

  I’d narrowed it down to a self-help book about setting goals for women and a horror novel from my favorite horror guy’s now-writing son. I heard the bell go off over the front door and set both books down on the desk to save them from being picked up by another staff member. Then I went back out to the shop, my mind on the books behind me.

  A woman stood at the counter waiting for me. As I approached, I realized it was Alice Carroll. I stopped forward movement and wondered what the heck I was supposed to say. Yesterday, I’d been primed to talk to the woman, but I didn’t like it when anyone brought the fight directly to me. Gathering up my courage, I willed my feet to move. “Good morning, welcome to Coffee, Books, and More. What can I get for you?

  Alice turned to me, and from the lines on her face, I estimated her age to be late fifties to early sixties. Her blond hair was cut into a swinging bob and her lipstick was way too red for her skin coloring. But what drew me in was her deep blue eyes. Eyes with fire behind them.

  “I’ll take a large coffee.” She pulled out her wallet as I stared. Tapping her card on the counter, she arched one eyebrow. “Do you need to ring me up before you pour?”