Pepper, the Highlander & the Dead Guy

“Mo let me in.” Ian pointed to the dog, a few feet away, busy chewing on a large bone. “A reward. I hope you don’t mind.”

“That explains why he let you in,” I said, sending Mo a glare that he ignored.

“I didn’t think he would let just anybody in. Actually, I was shocked he was able to unlock the door.”

“It’s a special skill of his and no, he wouldn’t normally let you in. But being you saved me today and brought him that bone, well that clinched it for him. You’re someone he’ll open the door for now.”

“I’m grateful for the privilege. I am sorry to wake you, but when I called, and you didn’t answer I got worried.”

It took me a minute to realize it was night and that Ian must have turned on the light when he entered, and where the heck was my phone? “What time is it?”

“After eight.”

“Wow, did I sleep.” I spotted my phone on the coffee table and reached for it. Text messages but no calls. Mom. She must have warned everyone to leave me alone, and, of course, she muted my phone. That’s what I get for teaching her how to do it.

“You’re tired from the ordeal. We can get together another night. I left the wine on the kitchen counter. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Don’t go,” I found myself saying as I got to my feet. “I would really love to know what my dad talked with you about and if the car provided any new evidence. I’ll open the wine.” I slipped into my furry black slippers and realized how I must look. I glanced over at him, at a loss for words.

“You look beautiful, Pep, and I love the colors of your plaid.”

I laughed, realizing he had been wearing a blue and black plaid today in the photo shoot. I spread my arms out and gave a gracious dip. There was no way I was attempting a curtsy. “My comfy clothes.”

“For a comfortable evening at home.” He smiled. “I’ll open the wine for us.”

He seemed so pleased at the thought and I had to admit, it felt good to be me, in my worn comfort clothes, in front of him and relaxing at home.

I whipped up a tray of cheese and crackers, Ian stealing several chunks of the blue cheese, my favorite and obviously his, as I put them on the plate.

“I didn’t get a chance for supper. I had a few more shoots I had to do.”

“I can remedy that,” I said and brushed off his attempts to stop me. “My mom’s homemade chicken and rice soup.” I held up the bowl, enough in it to feed four more people, that I took from the fridge.

“I love your mum,” Ian said, pressing his hand to his flat stomach.

I sat with Ian at the island counter, while he enjoyed the soup and we both enjoyed the cheese and crackers, and definitely the wine.

“Did my dad find any new clues?”

“He didn’t say, though I do believe he’s more optimistic about solving this murder now that the car has been found and he has the dead guy’s wallet. He doubts, though, the knife will hold much evidence with it having been in the loch.”

I winced. “I’m definitely going to hear about that one. I don’t recall spotting any blood on it, though it could have been wiped off.” I reached for a piece of cheese, not that it got to my mouth right away. “You know finding the car got me thinking that the murderer isn’t from around here.”

“Why so?”

I shared my thoughts with him. “Anyone who knows this area would never have disposed of the car there. Overgrown or not, it’s a boat ramp. Eventually that car would have been discovered.”

“The car is also a bit of a distance away from where the body was discovered,” Ian said. “I wonder why that is?”

I shook my head. “Why park the car there, then actually backtrack? And why leave the murder weapon in the car? You didn’t happen to get a look at the name on the driver’s license, did you?”

“I only caught a glimpse of it, but it was enough for me to see it was issued in the UK,” Ian said.

“Then what was he doing here in Willow Lake? And how was it he knew my name?”

“He knew your name?” Ian asked anxiously.

“Madge at Birds’ View Nest Bed & Breakfast told me that he asked about me and my place by name and she also gave me a paper left behind in his room. A crude drawing of our property. My dad has it now.”

“Not good, Pep. It means that you’re possibly involved in this somehow and that could prove dangerous. No wonder your dad is worried about you. And why would the guy have such a drawing?”