Pepper, the Highlander & the Dead Guy

“One more thing, Lara,” I asked before she walked away. “Did you happen to see his car?”

“No, I was busy with customers, though come to think of it, he did say that he was enjoying his stay at The Birds’ View Nest.”

That was Ben and Madge Newell’s bed and breakfast, just up the road—the only place to stay in town.

“Lara,” Zelda shouted and waved at her to get over by her, pointing to the cell phone at her ear.

Lara hurried off.

I looked at my laptop, having brought it with me to get some work done on my next book while waiting for my mom, but my mind couldn’t let go of what Lara had just said. The Birds’ View Nest was two blocks over and down a side street.

“Good, you’re here already,” her mom said, hurrying into the seat opposite me.

“Mom, I have to run and see about something. It will only take a minute. Please order me the number eight and another pot of tea,” I said and hurried out of the booth before mom could ply me with questions.

I sprinted down the street and was at the Birds’ View Nest in no time. I was glad Madge Newell was at the small registration desk when I entered. She was a talker and a bit of a gossip; she loved to share what she heard or learn what she didn’t already know.

“Hi, Madge, I’m in a hurry, but I need to know about a man you had staying here the other day. He had a Scottish accent—”

“Robert Louis Stevenson,” Madge said with a broad smile.

“He’s been dead since 1894.”

Madge looked confused. “No, dear, Mr. Stevenson is in his sixties, maybe late fifties, and he checked out of his room about a day ago.”

He checked out that was for sure, but had he registered under his real name or that of the Scottish author that had been long dead?

“Did he say what he was doing here?” I asked.

“He had some business in town, but he didn’t volunteer what it was, and you know I don’t like to pry, Pepper. My guests are entitled to their privacy.”

I could have argued that point. Instead, I stroked Madge’s ego. “But you have such a way with people, Madge. They just seem to talk with you.”

Madge preened like a peacock. “I do have an ear for listening to folks and come to think of it, Mr. Stevenson asked me about you and your place Skunk Hollow.”

“He knew my name?” I asked, wondering why the guy lied to me about taking a wrong turn when he knew all the while where he was and who he was talking to.

Marge nodded repeatedly. “He did.”

I couldn’t help but think she resembled one of those bobble head dolls, her head nodding as if it would never stop.

“He didn’t leave anything behind, did he?” I asked, in a hurry to get back to the diner and my mom before she suspected something. She was good in sniffing out the truth in me.

“Come to think of it…” Madge went to turn, hesitated briefly, then turned and searched behind the registration desk, shuffling things around. “Here it is. I found this folded piece of paper under the bed. Don’t know what it is, but I saved it in case he returned.”

I snatched it from her hand. “I know where he is, I’ll get it to him. Thanks, Madge.”

“Why all the questions about Mr. Stevenson?” Madge called after me, but I just waved as I rushed out the door.

I gave the paper a quick glance once outside. It was a drawing of what looked like Willow Lake Lodge land and my acres sitting almost in the middle of it. I wanted to examine it more closely. I only had so long to snap a pic with my cell phone. I shook my head. Of course, I left my cell on the table in the diner.

I stopped dead when I saw Dad’s police car parked in front of the diner. It came to me then… I’d use Zelda’s printer to make a copy. I hurried around to the back of the diner and slipped through the kitchen door and made it to Zelda’s office without anyone seeing me. It took less than a minute to make a quick copy and tuck it in my pocket. I slipped out the way I’d come in and entered again, this time through the front door.

My dad was busy talking with Lara while Zelda stood beside her adding her two cents, though they kept glancing at the booth where my mom sat. I walked back toward them when I saw that someone besides my mom occupied the booth. I couldn’t get a good look, but then my mom knew everybody in town.

I nearly stumbled over my own feet when I saw who it was.