Caught in the Frame (3 page)

Boasting just over the minimum number of residents to qualify for town status, some 560 souls called Ponderosa Pines home. That number included pets and farm animals. From its humble beginnings as a commune in the sixties, one thing never changed—the dedication of every resident to living gently on the land. By town charter, each home or business must be constructed using a portion of recycled materials, and must also satisfy elevated codes for energy efficiency.

To the novice eye, homes built from alternative means—cordwood, rammed earth, straw bales, recycled tires, and even underground bunkers—looked like a crazy collection of rustic backwoods junk. However, underneath the town’s simple exterior beat the heart of innovation. Cutting edge solar and wind technology powered the entire town with plenty to spare, but not enough to become a cash cow worth exploiting.

That left revenge. On a whole town, though?

Pondering that question, EV hit the end of the trail. A quick glance showed Dalton’s truck in its customary spot in front of the small office he currently shared with Nate. She’d forgotten about him. Now that Chloe and Nate had finally gotten out of their own way and become an item, he was the weakest link in the gossip chain to Dalton.

In the rush to get this whole thing over with, EV stepped into the office without preamble. She’d no more than cleared the door when a triangle of folded paper bounced off her chest. Startled, she looked up to see sheepish grins mirrored on the faces of two grown men who’d been playing paper football during their working day.

“Don’t let me interrupt the playoffs,” her gaze fell on Dalton. “I can see this is more important than answering your phone.”

The size of the office left little room for guest seating; EV was too keyed up to sit anyway, so she remained just inside the door, shifting from one foot to the other.

Dalton reached over to pluck a rice-filled plastic zipper bag from the shelf next to his desk. He shook the bag to reveal his phone amid the white grains. “My phone got wet.” From the way his eyes landed everywhere but on hers, she assumed there was a longer, and probably unflattering story to go along with the bald statement.

He didn’t offer details, so she blurted out in a rush, “I wanted to tell you I’m going to Lila’s wedding. I’m sure Nate already told you.” She glowered at the man in question, “but I wanted you to hear it from me.” Hot blood rushed to her cheeks. She’d rather stick her arm in a bag of rattlesnakes than try to follow the tangled threads of her emotions when it came to Dalton Burnsoll. Right now, she couldn’t remember which one of them had suggested putting their relationship on hold for the time being.

“Thank you for letting me know.” The words sounded stilted and stupid to Dalton, but they were the best he could do at the moment, so he turned the conversation to the work aspect. “Nate will be in constant contact; I’ll stay here to hold down the fort and tug what few lines we have on Remy. If I don’t see you again before you leave...” Dalton stood, reached to give her a hug, but halfway there thought better of it and lamely patted her arm instead. He cleared his throat to finish the statement, but nothing came out.

“I’ll let you get back to
work,
then.” EV injected a healthy dose of sarcasm into the word, but softened the rebuke with a tentative smile. With a few notable exceptions, Ponderosa Pines was pretty quiet from a law enforcement standpoint. Dalton could easily handle things while they were gone.

* * *

Late to knitting group after her detour into Awkwardville with Dalton, EV took a seat beside Chloe, whose nimble fingers worked a flashing set of needles to produce stitch after perfect stitch. It was enough to make EV want to stab her own eye out. Chloe smirked when EV pulled the elephant gray blob of inexpertly rendered work from her bag. “Laugh it up, Missy, but this is going to be your Christmas present.” EV muttered.

“What’s it supposed to be?” Chloe asked with a pained expression on her face. “Looks like a pile of gargoyle crap.”

“It’s a hat.”

“Well, you should shoot it and put it out of its misery.” Chloe grinned. The truth was, if EV gave her the hat, Chloe would wear it. That’s what you did when your best friend made something for you. Even if it was the ugliest garment in the history of knitting.

“Keep it up, and I’ll make you a matching pair of mittens.”

Priscilla Lewellyn’s quiet chuckle did not go unnoticed, but it was her outfit that earned her a raised eyebrow from EV. Owner of Thread, the fabric store where knitting group was held, Priscilla’s everyday wardrobe consisted of items worked by her own hand—generally using specialty yarns with a fuzzy or nubby texture. Today’s dress, exquisitely crafted from variegated boucle yarn in a mix of fall colors, would have been fine on its own. It was the addition of some sort of collar apparatus that made the outfit go wrong. Ruffled around the edges, it looked like an old fashioned doily knit from the feathers pulled off of a wild pheasant. From that bit of fluff rose Priscilla’s slim-to-the-point-of-skinny neck, which, along with her prominent nose, conjured the vision of a Thanksgiving turkey in EV’s head. It wasn’t the most charitable of thoughts, and yet she couldn’t shake the image.

“Speaking of mittens,” Talia Plunkett took the opportunity to change the subject, “I was thinking it might be a good idea to add a few pairs of stockings to the borrow boxes this year.” The borrow boxes, a Ponderosa Pines innovation, held books for trade during summer months, and hats, mittens, and scarves during the winter—no trade necessary. “I’d be happy to donate several pairs to kick things off.”

With a little too much time on her hands after her husband’s accidental death, Talia had turned to knitting. With a vengeance. Now she had a plastic tote filled with two dozen pairs of orphaned stockings.

“How is that speaking of mittens?” Talia’s sister, Lottie Calabrese, sneered.

“Shut up, Lottie.” Luther’s death had somehow shortened Talia’s patience and strengthened her spine. Once inclined to kowtow to her sister’s acid tongue, she now waded in with a will. Stories of their epic public battles were gaining legendary status.

To stop this one in its tracks, Chloe blurted, “EV and I are leaving for Ireland on Wednesday. We’ll be gone for a couple of weeks.”

Her ploy worked; requests for more information bombarded Chloe.

“My mother’s getting married.” She tried for cheerful, but couldn’t quite keep the edge of disgust from her tone. “Some guy she met a few months ago. Javier something or other.”

“Tell her I hope she’ll be very happy.” Priscilla chirped. “It’s too bad she never comes home.”

“Well, she would, if EV would just cooperate.” Waggling eyebrows followed by doe-eyed innocence met EV’s pointed glare.

All eyes turned toward EV who, to her great embarrassment, blushed. “Lila has vowed not to set foot in Ponderosa Pines until she can attend my wedding to Dalton.”

A chorus of female
whoo
noises erupted.

“Is that a possibility?” The light of creative genius danced in Priscilla’s eyes and EV pictured herself walking down the aisle in some knitted fantasy of a dress. Trouble was, most of Prissy’s creations tended toward her own tastes, and EV really didn’t fancy looking like Mother Goose. That this was her biggest worry, and not the actual idea of marrying Dalton—or anyone for that matter—escaped her notice entirely.

“Considering we’ve been on two dates, I think you can hold off on renting the hall just yet.”

“Three,” Chloe corrected, earning a lifted eyebrow from EV. “If you consider a night of torrid passion a date, then that makes three.” The blush intensified.

“Two—three, doesn’t mean anything.” EV changed the subject to something that didn’t make her feel shivery with dread and anticipation at the same time: the town Yule celebration. She rummaged through her yarn bag before pulling a spiral bound notebook from where it had slid to the very bottom; yarn tangled through the binding. Several seconds passed while she freed the book, stuffing the offending strands back into the mess. EV tossed the notebook onto the coffee table. “Can I count on you ladies to take care of things while I’m gone?”

Lottie’s eyes lit with anticipation. A self-styled decorating diva, she itched to put her own spin on one of the town’s most-loved traditions. With two recent deaths and an invasion of Sasquatch hunters behind them, the town could use a little fun and celebration. Lottie and Talia went for the book at the same time, but it was Allegra Worth who snatched it from the table first.

When Allegra’s husband killed Evan Plunkett for sleeping with his wife, everyone expected Allegra to leave town in shame. Instead, she had not only stayed, but shed much of her haughty demeanor and become even more involved with her neighbors.

“You two will fight over everything, and nothing will get done.” It was no less than the truth. “I’ll take point on this one.” She turned entreating eyes toward EV. “You can count on me.”

“Text or email if you have questions,” and EV left it at that.

* * *

“Take care of my babies.” Chloe murmured to Talia, who had, along with her new obsession with knitting, begun a slow descent into crazy cat lady territory. In fact, Sugar and Spice were two of Talia’s rescue kittens—forced, lovingly, onto Chloe by the only person she would tolerate such insolence from—EV. Fortunately, Chloe had fallen in love with the two rascals, though she suspected they were more crazy about Nate than they ever had been about her. Not that she could blame them.

Chloe struggled up Talia’s front walkway; a cat carrier in one hand, a bag of supplies in the other. The task would have been simple if both kittens hadn’t crawled to the very back of the enclosure, upsetting the handle’s center of gravity. Talia reached for it, pulling the two angry kittens from their prison. Sugar made a beeline for her favorite perch: a stone shelf set high into the living room fireplace.

“We’ll be juuust fine, won’t we, luvvie?” Talia asked Spice; his ears flattened disdainfully in response to the baby talk. Neither kitten seemed thrilled to be shuffled back to Talia’s cat menagerie, but Chloe knew Talia was the only person who wouldn’t mind taking them for the near month-long period she would be away.

“Thanks a mil, Tallie. You’re a life saver.”

“You can thank me by taking as many photos of this shindig as you can manage. The whole town’s jealous we can’t come along. I’m guessing it will be quite the event.”

Chloe grimaced. “That’s what I’m afraid of. And let me know about anything juicy that goes on here. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have bothered asking, but if all hell breaks loose again, I want to know about it.” The request deflected all suspicion of Chloe as the resident gossip columnist, while still keeping her finger on the pulse of current events.

“Will do. Be safe. Have fun.” Talia gave Chloe a friendly hug and sent her on her way. When Luther was alive, Talia had barely given her the time of day, which might have also been due, in part, to Chloe maintaining a slightly standoffish attitude for a time. Things had changed, and for the better, in Chloe’s opinion. She just wished it hadn’t had to come at such a cost.

* * *

Word must have traveled quickly once EV’s neighbor, Celia, spied Nate loading a considerable amount of luggage into the back of the co-op’s conversion van. By the time they had made it the half mile into town, and stopped at The Mudbucket for one last cup of coffee, at least ten townspeople were gathered to bid all three of them farewell. Chloe could imagine the series of texts that had daisy-chained down the block to pinpoint their location.

“Take good care of her.” Horis slapped Nate on the back. Chloe couldn’t help but grin; Horis, with his bottle-bottom glasses and signature Fu-Manchu mustache, was an unlikely, but solid friend. When a pile of firewood showed up on her porch with no note, or her bird feeders went from empty to mysteriously full, she knew it was Horis looking after her. Chloe wrapped her arm around his waist and gave him a quick squeeze while Nate shook his hand and replied with a wide smile of his own. “Of course, man.”

Lottie sidled up to EV, whispering in her ear, “I’ll keep you in the gossip loop while you’re away; wouldn’t want you to miss any of the
babble.
” EV rolled her eyes and thanked Lottie for the sentiment.
That was thinly veiled.
She got a kick out of it when certain people assumed EV was the current voice of gossip for ‘Babble & Spin’.

After receiving a dozen requests for photos and videos, Dalton was finally able to corral the group back into the van. “Sheesh, you’d think you all are going off to war. It’s just a couple of weeks.” Something in his voice let EV know that it was going to feel much longer for Dalton, who would have to find another paper football partner to help him pass the time while Nate was away. She felt a twinge of regret at not asking him to come along, but things were complicated enough as it was. She let him curl his warm fingers around her own while Chloe and Nate, cuddled up together on the middle seat, watched with growing satisfaction.

Chapter 3

Neither Chloe nor EV were strangers to international travel; in fact, their carry-on essentials were so similar that when EV pulled out a plush neck pillow covered in bright red fleece, Chloe couldn’t help but reach for her matching hot pink one with a twinkle in her eye. Nate, seated on the aisle next to Chloe, watched with interest until she offered him a navy blue version that had arrived by second-day delivery just in time for the trip. His answering grin was thanks enough for her.