Traveling Town Mystery Boxset Read online

  “Blood work would probably confirm that. Elevated histamine levels and such. That’s probably what Pauline told Chapman over the phone. Look—” his eyes darted to the front door “—I appreciate you coming by, but you need to get out of here before he comes back.” A rare smile graced his face. “Thanks for breakfast. And the visit.”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m a great conversationalist.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t take you to a party or anything.”

  She let out a hollow laugh. “Stay out of trouble. Oh… wait.” She rapped the bars with her knuckles. He laughed.

  She lingered a moment, wondering why she felt so invested in a stranger, then turned to leave. When her hand closed around the brass doorknob, he called her name. She turned to see his eyes fixed on her.

  “Ella, promise me, if you get a chance to leave, you’ll take it. Leave Keystone and don’t turn back.”

  His words were so similar to Jimmy’s but lacked the tone of dismay. He was warning her, and it sent a chill up her spine.

  Maybe she’d misunderstood Jimmy too. Had he also been warning her? But why? What was so dangerous about Keystone that she needed to leave as soon as possible?

  Ella dipped her chin in a small nod then tugged the door open and stepped out into the cold.

  CHAPTER 7

  THE SNOW HAD stopped falling, leaving a gray sky over a white world. Ella checked Lou’s shop, but he still wasn’t there.

  After her conversation with Will, she needed to clear her head. She wanted to make the loop around the lake but wasn’t sure where the sheriff and his steed had wandered off to, so she ambled south of town towards the park, stopping at the inn long enough to make a ham and cheese sandwich, wrap it in wax, and stuff it into her pocket.

  Her head down to stave off the icy wind, she turned left towards the diner and park. Ella passed a horse tethered to a hitching post outside Grandma’s Kitchen, a post she’d failed to notice the day before.

  She stopped.

  She backtracked and looked up into the same beautiful brown eyes of the sheriff’s Appaloosa. It blinked at her with indignation and took wariness.

  Ella bent, ready to speed walk away, but a deep voice stopped her.

  “I thought I told you to leave Keystone.”

  Her heart dropped, and she whirled around. She hadn’t even heard the diner door open.

  Sheriff Chapman’s eyes bored holes into hers, and his mustache turned down at a such an angle it was in danger of becoming a goatee. She didn’t have to know him well or long to know he wasn’t happy with her.

  “I was. I tried. I stopped by Lou’s shop, but he wasn’t there.”

  His eyes narrowed, but his mustache was looking less like a goatee. “Hm. Probably not awake yet.”

  Ella frowned and glanced at her watch, noting that it was nearing noon. Her job as a T.A. was becoming less appealing, and she began to consider a hungover mechanic as a promising career.

  The sheriff strode past her and untied the horse’s reins. She made note of how he did it in case she ever needed another diversion.

  With a grace belying his age, he hoisted himself up and over the black and white spotted horse then adjusted the reins.

  “Just like Clint Eastwood,” she muttered.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Look, Miss Barton, my plate’s full right now, but if you don’t see that roostered mechanic by one-thirty, come find me. I’ll go to his slop of a house if I have to and wake him.”

  She nodded and shifted her weight from one boot to the other, deciding that it couldn’t hurt to pry him for information. “Do you know what killed Kay, yet?”

  His head tilted low, shielding his eyes from her with the brim of his derby hat. “Got some theories. But that’s not something I aim to share with a suspect.”

  Ella’s throat constricted. She was still a suspect?

  She wasn’t sure, but she could swear she saw his cheek twitch with a smile. He tugged the brim of his hat in farewell then trotted off.

  “Hey!” she called after him, “Can you say, ‘Go ahead, make my day’?”

  He ignored her.

  Yeah, definitely Clint Eastwood.

  The horse’s hooves left deep, horseshoe-shaped prints in the snow. The cold began to permeate her jacket, forcing her to move for warmth.

  Ella continued her brisk walk to the park and turned the events of the last couple of days over and over in her mind while she nibbled on half of her sandwich. The way Kay had hallucinated. Her vomiting. The device.

  What was it that Will had given her? She made a mental note to ask him—if she saw him again before she left town.

  And that rash. Kay had mentioned it was from poison oak. But what if it wasn’t?

  Ella brushed crumbs off the front of her jacket and reminded herself that this wasn’t her job. The sheriff would get to the bottom of what had happened. Sure, she was involved in that she’d been there when Kay had died, but this wasn’t her profession.

  And if anything was best left to professionals, it was death. Or murder.

  Also, probably haircuts.

  She winced remembering an incident that involved wine, scissors, and a couple of friends who thought she’d look great with short hair and wouldn’t it be cute if there were also layers? It wasn’t.

  As she picked up her pace, her thighs began to burn from disuse. It was only the beginning of winter in the Pacific Northwest, and, already, she looked forward to spring when she could go on long, dry walks.

  Winters in the valley were a nearly endless succession of dark, dreary days full of rain. It was normal to go months without seeing the sun—great for catching up on reading. Bad for getting a tan. It led to a well-read, vitamin D deficient populace.

  When the buildings on Main Street stopped, the street continued straight, but the sidewalk bent towards the lake. Ella’s boots crunched over the sidewalk, and she was careful not to slip on any patches of ice. She was so focused on the ground, she didn’t realize she’d reached the heart of the park.

  Her breath came out in wisps like a dragon as she paused to admire the sweeping vista. Her jacket proved too efficient, and the heat trapped inside from her exertion felt like a furnace.

  She found a picnic table a few yards away. Swiping four inches of snow off with her gloves, she sat on her jacket and pulled out the other half of her sandwich. The cold quickly sapped away the heat, but she didn’t plan on staying too long.

  Her eyes drifted from the water to the trees then to the fields behind her. She gasped. The trees. That’s what had been bugging her.

  She gaped at a nearby maple. Snow clung to its branches and leaves. It was the last week in November, and there were still leaves on the trees.

  Ella swiveled around, her sandwich forgotten. Oak trees. Maple trees. Even a big Willow. All of them still had their foliage. How was that possible? Had Fall skipped Keystone Village?

  From her right, a blur of gray fur and polka dots shot past her face so close a breeze fluttered her cheek. The blur snatched her sandwich from her hand.

  “What the—”

  “Chester!” A woman with bright blue hair cut into a short bob and wearing a hot pink tracksuit ran across the snow. “Chester, no! Bad squirrel!”

  Ella stared at the woman chasing a squirrel in a black-and-white polka-dot dress, her sandwich clutched between its two paws. The gray-furred rodent stopped at the edge of the water and tore into the rest of her meal. Its cheeks bulged with each bite, crumbs scattering over ripples of ruffles and lace.

  After the shock wore off, Ella sprang up from her bench and sprinted towards what remained of her meal. Chester froze mid-chew and turned a beady eye on her, crust dangling from its grip.

  Ella slowed and crept sideways, flanking it. It turned sharply and chittered at her. She rolled her shoulders back.

  “Are you scolding me?” She turned to the blue-haired woman. “Is it scolding me?”

  “Bad boy!” The woman sto
pped a couple of yards from Ella and bent over her knees, gasping for air.

  Boy?

  Ella’s gaze roamed over the frilly dress, noticing it had bows, and shrugged.

  The rodent let out a long string of noises. She didn’t speak squirrel but interpreted them as obscenities and something about her mother.

  “Oh yeah? Well, your mother lives in a tree!” Ella whispered out of the side of her mouth at the woman. “Right? Squirrels live in trees?”

  Chester turned his back on them and flicked his tail, which Ella assumed was the squirrel equivalent of the middle finger.

  The woman straightened, no longer sounding like a bad muffler and in danger of passing out. Up close, she was at least thirty years older than Ella had pegged her for. And despite her puffing for air, she appeared in relatively decent shape.

  “I’m sorry about that. Chester’s been in a foul mood. Lady problems.”

  “Sure, sure.” Ella scratched her chin and nodded as if a squirrel’s love life was a topic she was familiar with. “The dress might have something to do with it.”

  She looked back and forth between the two, not sure what to make of the pair. “I wasn’t that hungry, anyway, and was just thinking I’d like to give the rest of my sandwich to a squirrel in a dress.”

  The woman’s eyes twinkled. “Problem solved, then.”

  Chester eyed Ella, the last of the crust disappearing into his mouth.

  “He’s taunting me, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  Ella flipped him the bird. “I got to ask, what’s with the dress?”

  She shrugged. “I let him pick out his outfit today.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I sewed it myself.” A hint of pride touched her voice.

  “It’s very… pretty.” Ruffles and lace weren’t Ella’s thing, but she could admire the work put into making such an outfit.

  The woman cocked her blue head to the side. “You’re new here.”

  Ella came to the conclusion that either she had a sign over her head letting everyone know she was from out of town or that the population of Keystone was small enough she stood out. She glanced overhead to be sure it was the latter.

  She stuck out her hand and shook it with the elder woman. “Ella Barton.”

  “Pearl Winkel. But everyone calls me Grandma Wink or just Wink.”

  “Ah, so you’re Grandma Wink.”

  “Heard of me already, have you? My name gets around more than I do.” She laughed when she caught Ella’s expression. “I’m kidding.”

  “And here I thought it was your name because you had some kind of twitch and winked a lot.” After a moment, Ella patted her stomach. “I’ll have you know, you’re the reason I need to walk off all of these extra calories.”

  Grandma Wink smiled. “You only live once, my dear.”

  The conversation shifted as she asked the usual questions, and Ella explained how she became stranded a couple days before and would be trading her car in for one of Lou’s if she could ever find him.

  Wink’s eyebrows pinched together, and she seemed to rummage through her memory. “Ella… Ella…You were in my diner yesterday, weren’t you?”

  Ella’s gaze fell to her scuffed boots. “Yes, it was terrible. I tried to help, but I couldn’t. It was too late—” Her hand flew to her forehead. “Oh my gosh! I forgot to pay for my meal.”

  Wink flipped her hand through the air. “Don’t worry about it. Please. I’m just grateful you did what you could to save Kay.” Her voice broke, and her eyes glistened.

  Ella realized her oversight and felt like an even bigger jerk than someone who’d skipped out on their bill. Kay had been Wink’s employee. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Grandma Wink watched Chester and blinked away the moisture. “Kayline was a good person. So full of potential. So full of fear.” Her voice broke slightly.

  “Fear? What was she afraid of?”

  Wink’s eyes darkened, and she whispered, “A life she couldn’t escape.” She sighed and shook her head. “That’s the most important lesson life can teach you, Ella: live without fear. No matter where you go, what you do, do it despite fear. Live fearlessly. Love recklessly, because it can all be gone in a moment.

  “Kay’s was a life snuffed out too soon. A story that was yet to be written. Gone forever.” A tear escaped and slid down her face.

  For the second time in as many days, Ella reached out and comforted a stranger. After they had stood quietly for a while in the cold, she asked gently, “Do you know when you’ll be able to open the diner up again?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. To be honest, I’m happy for the break. Gives me more time for my hobbies.” She pointed towards Twin Hills. “See that left hill? My house is near the top. I hang glide when the weather’s right.”

  Ella searched the hill, spotting two dots near the crest. “Which one’s yours?”

  “The one on the left. The house on the right is the professor’s.”

  “Hang gliding, huh?” Ella pictured flying over the beautiful town, the wind blowing through her hair, the ground so far beneath her. So very far. Too far. She shifted in her boots, smashing the snow underneath, and suddenly felt an affinity for the ground.

  “I took it up to conquer my fear of heights. Live fearlessly, remember?” She smiled at Ella.

  “I don’t know. If I jumped off one of those small mountains strapped to nothing but steel and fabric, I’d have to wear a diaper.”

  “I wear diapers.”

  Ella sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry—”

  Wink burst out laughing. “I’m just pulling your leg.”

  Ella laughed, growing fonder of her new, blue-haired friend by the minute.

  “Lou?”

  The scent of stale liquor stung Ella’s nostrils, making her grateful the shop door was open despite the frigid temperature. From somewhere in the bowels of the shop, there was a loud bang followed by an even louder string of profanities.

  Ella picked her way towards the noise, finding stout legs and a wide belly sticking out from under an antique car that looked like it belonged to a gangster in a black and white movie.

  “Lou,” she repeated, afraid she’d scare the mechanic.

  “Huh? Who’s there?” Lou wheeled across the floor. His eyes were bloodshot, and his coveralls reeked like they’d been marinating in a keg of beer.

  “It’s me. Ella.” He struggled to focus on her, so she bent closer and tried not to breathe. She repeated her name, slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. “Remember me?”

  “Didn’t you get my message? Your car won’t be ready for another day, at least.” Gone was the toothy smile. She wondered if it was the hangover or if he was just having a bad day.

  “Yeah, sorry. I got your message, but the sheriff wants me gone sooner.”

  He waved a socket wrench in the air. “Look, I can’t work miracles.”

  Ella bit back a sharp response and instead asked, “Everything okay?”

  “Fine.” He disappeared under the car again. “Just don’t get your panties in a twist, alright? I got the sheriff breathin’ down my neck enough as it is.”

  So that was what was bothering him. The sheriff had obviously stopped by.

  “If it makes you feel better, he’s breathing down my neck, too.” She fidgeted with the hem of her jacket and took a deep breath. “Do you know anyone who’d be willing to make a trade for my car?”

  She heard his wrench stop, and he slowly slid back out. “Really?”

  She didn’t like the way his eyes glinted. “I don’t want to, but I don’t have much of a choice.”

  Lou’s lips curled up. “Well, why didn’t you say so.” He rolled over onto his knees and staggered to his feet. Ella’s hand shot out in case he needed it for balance.

  Waddling out of the garage, he gestured for her to follow. They walked around the shop to a large, fenced-in lot full of used cars in various states of disrepair. She eyed the chipped paint
and rusted hubcaps of the nearest one. “Do any of these run?”

  He puffed out his chest. “Lady, you insult me. I’ve fixed up all these here myself. They have the Lou guarantee.” He hiccuped.

  Ella narrowed her eyes and murmured, “Uh huh.”

  With a loud sigh, she trudged to the nearest one. As she touched the side-view mirror to brush off snow, it fell to the ground.

  Lou scratched the deep shadow of scruff along his jaw. “This shift in weather’s been hard on the cars.”

  “Uh huh,” she repeated. The car was as dubious as the mechanic. Her eyes lit up. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have a light colored Volkswagen Beetle, would you? Maybe with some racing stripes and the number fifty-three painted on it?”

  He blinked at her. “Huh?”

  “You know, Herbie the Love Bug? Beloved sentient car?”

  “What are you on about?”

  “Nothing. It’s not important.” She stared at the bland, non-anthropomorphic car in front of her, trying to hide her disappointment. “Do you have anything newer than this?”

  “No, ma’am.” He teetered forward and clung to the fence for support, a belch rumbling his chest.

  Ella cursed under her breath and turned her nose from the onslaught. “Can I at least get one with both mirrors?”

  “Probably.”

  She caught her lip between her teeth, not liking the non-committal response. “I’ll have to think about it some more.”

  “Sure thing. Just don’t let the sheriff see you still here.”

  Ella slid her eyes over the lot, her heart sinking. There wasn’t much to think over, she knew. This was her only option, but she clung to a sliver of hope Lou could work miracles and her jeep would be ready.

  The mechanic toppled over, sending clouds of snow into the air. Another belch broke from the ground.

  CHAPTER 8

  ELLA LEFT THE shop in low spirits, the drifting thick snowflakes matching her mood. Her thoughts tumbled over each other, trying to come up with some other solution.

  A cab. She would just use the inn’s phone, call a cab, and eat the cost. Once her car was fixed, she’d have a friend drive her back to Keystone to pick it up. Her heart lifted a little with this new plan.