Death of a Batty Genius (Stormy Day Mystery #3) (36 page)
Read Death of a Batty Genius (Stormy Day Mystery #3) Online
Authors: Angela Pepper
He’d left behind a note, written on Flying Squirrel Lodge stationery.
Dear Stormy, Jessica, and Jeffrey:
Thank you for your friendship and the memories. Remember, my door is always open for you. Seattle has many wonderful restaurants, art galleries, and concert halls. You should come visit some time.
Jeffrey, you’re one lucky guy.
Kind regards,
Christopher Fairchild
The days after
I returned from the lodge were hectic.
Both of my gift store employees came down with stomach flu, so I was on retail duty through the end of the week and the weekend.
News about what had happened at the lodge spread like wildfire, which resulted in a phenomenal sales week when word got out that I could be found inside Glorious Gifts. People came in to get gossip and left with cloth napkins, scented candles, and several of the new glass fruit centerpieces, which weren’t cheap. I didn’t reveal any more details than they could have read in the Misty Falls Mirror, but everyone seemed happy enough just to see me and talk to me.
On Sunday afternoon, Ruby stopped by with pastries. She didn’t pry, but told me to come by her store when things settled down. “You can catch me up on how things are going with a certain lawyer,” she said with a knowing wink.
“Who?” I asked innocently. “If you mean Logan Sanderson, it’s nothing but business as usual.”
Laughing, she gave me a big hug, then left, holding open the door for more curious customers.
The truth was, it had been business as usual with Logan. We’d both been busy, but even when we had crossed paths, neither of us brought up what we’d discussed on the phone when I was at the lodge. I wondered if my memory was playing tricks on me, or if something had happened on his trip.
At closing time on Sunday, he showed up as I was closing out the cash register.
My breath caught in my throat when I realized the handsome man who’d walked in the door was there to see me. He wasn’t wearing his usual weekend gear of patched jeans and baggy sweaters, nor was he dressed in his other extreme, his weekday tailored suits. He wore dark, slim-fitting jeans and a stylish leather jacket. Under the jacket was a blue button-down shirt that made his bright eyes dazzle. His beard was trimmed neatly and his neck had that pink look of having just been shaved.
“Here you are,” Logan said. “I should have known I’d find you in the gift shop. All the bad seeds hang out here.”
“If I had known you were looking for me, I would have hidden myself better.” I reached across the counter and touched the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Someone’s been shopping.”
He locked eyes with me and smiled. “I had to step up my game, because the woman I’m trying to date has a knack for fashion. She claims to buy her outfits straight off the mannequin in the window display, but I don’t believe her. The lady has style.”
I laughed, leaned forward, then looked at his mouth and pulled back. I’d nearly leaned across the counter and kissed him without realizing it. Logan had that effect on me, where he made me feel as giddy as a teenager, yet also comfortable and relaxed, as though I was with a close friend.
“Well, it’s a great jacket,” I said. “This woman you’re trying to date will probably compliment you on it. She might even notice how the blue shirt brings out your eyes.” I busied myself with the final steps of closing the cash register for the day.
“Being color blind, I’ll have to take her word for it.” He leaned on the counter and glanced around the store while he waited for me to finish.
I grabbed my coat from the office and jingled my keys.
“Now what?” he asked.
“We leave and lock the door.”
“I mean after that. Dinner?”
I crossed my arms. “This woman you’re trying to date, is that how you ask her out?”
He grinned. “Stormy Day, I know this is short notice, but will you do me the honor of accompanying me to Accio Bistro for dinner tonight?”
“Are you sure we’re not banned from that place?”
“If they so much as hint at banning us, I’ll sue them six ways to Sunday.”
I played up a dramatic shudder. “Mr. Sanderson! When you get all litigious like that, you make me weak in the knees.”
“Then this date is off to a good start.”
The waiters gave us some funny looks, but we weren’t turned away from Accio Bistro.
Over dinner, we discussed a few of our ongoing cases, and I caught him up on the few details he didn’t already know about what had happened up at the lodge.
When I was done, he tented his fingers and said, “I bet you’d like to know what Butch Fairchild was in prison for.”
I inhaled sharply and leaned in. “Tell me.”
He leaned in until our foreheads were nearly touching. “Paper hanging,” he said. “Otherwise known as check kiting. Butch claimed he’d written the checks while sleepwalking. The judge was sympathetic and let him off the first time, but not the second.”
I laughed. “I wonder if he really was sleepwalking. I saw him circle around and then sleep on the floor like a dog.”
“He needs someone to keep tabs on him.”
“You should have seen the look on his face when Jessica suggested he get a babysitter.”
Logan laughed and rubbed his face. “Hopefully this is the end of his trouble.”
“At least he’s still alive. Dion didn’t confess to it, but we’re guessing he figured out that Butch moved the body and then whacked him on the head and left him out in the rain.”
“Maybe Dion would have hit him again, if Christopher hadn’t been there.”
“Maybe.” I leaned back and took a sip of my wine. “How did your trip go? We’ve hardly talked about it.”
Logan shrugged. “No murders or walking zombie corpses. Not much to discuss.”
The waiter arrived with our lemon mousse. I took a bite. The dessert tasted as good as it looked.
“This is amazing,” I said. “Stop watching the door. Christopher’s in Seattle. He’s not going to come in and hit your fist with his face.”
Logan laughed. “I hate it when guys hit my fist with their faces.”
“And, for the record, nothing happened between us up at the lodge. We’re just friends, and whatever we had, romantically, is gone.”
“Why didn’t it work out with you two?”
I frowned at my lemon mousse. “Mixing business and pleasure, among other things. We were so intertwined. Even during the times we weren’t dating, we were still… intertwined.”
Logan cleared his throat. “That sounds familiar.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. I hadn’t seen the parallel, or I wouldn’t have worded it that way.
He continued, “Living under the same roof, working together on cases, then trying to mix business and pleasure. That’s a recipe for getting sick of each other.”
I looked up, into his blue eyes, and felt myself falling—falling forever.
“Logan Sanderson, I might get sick of you one day, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
He blinked. “That’s not the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, but it’s making me smile.” He grinned. “And I feel the same way about you.”
“We can make this work. We just need some ground rules.”
“How about just one rule?”
I raised my eyebrows and nodded for him to tell me the rule.
“One rule,” he said. “On any given day, our relationship is either business or pleasure. One or the other.”
I took a breath. It wasn’t a bad rule.
“Agreed,” I said.
“Let’s shake on it. We already discussed case work at the start of dinner, so today’s a business day.”
I shook his hand. “Yes, sir. All business today. We are in complete agreement.”
“Good. Let’s order another lemon mousse to make up for the one we didn’t have last time.”
I gave him a look of admiration. “You are just full of excellent ideas tonight.”
“I am.” He winked at me, then looked around for our waiter.
We discussed some more business over our second dessert, then drove home in our own vehicles.
He gave me a business-like wave goodbye as we walked to our separate doors.
I spent the remainder of the evening in a pleasant daze.
Jessica went to bed at eleven-thirty, but I stayed up to finish catching up on some of my favorite TV shows.
Someone knocked on the door at 12:01 a.m.
I ran to the door and flung it open.
Logan stood on the step with a bouquet of flowers.
“Today’s a new day,” I said.
He stepped inside, tossed the flowers on the table, took me in his arms, and kissed me.
Thank you for reading
Death of a Batty Genius
Stormy Day Mystery #3
Angela Pepper
JEFFREY BLUE PRESS |
WWW.ANGELAPEPPER.COM
ANGELA PEPPER
