Pepper, the Highlander & the Dead Guy

I heard a heavy sigh, and I knew I’d touched his commonsense bone.

“My hair can’t get any whiter than it already is, Pepper. And too many scary things have happened to you lately. And I still haven’t cleared Ian completely as a suspect. And why was his car there until this morning?”

I rolled my eyes. This camera thing was really going to be a big problem. “I love you, Dad, but this stops now or,” —I didn’t like to do this, but he left me no choice— “I’ll tell Mom.”

“You wouldn’t,” he gasped.

“Don’t make me,” I warned and was glad he couldn’t see me smile.

“I worry about you, Pepper. You always manage to get into something you shouldn’t, and I fear I won’t be there to help you.”

Of course, guilt stabbed at me. “I know, Dad, but you’ve taught me well. It’s time to let the bird out of the nest.”

“You stole your mom’s words. You should be more like her,” —he laughed— “Wait I take that back.” He stopped laughing. “Don’t tell your mom I said that.”

“I heard that,” I heard my mom say.

“Damn,” my dad said in a hushed tone.

“Did you just cuss, Warren Andrew Madison?” my mom scolded in a raised voice.

“Good luck, Dad,” I said, laughing and hung up.

I arrived at Veggie Heaven, the local vegetarian bistro, one town over, the same time Amy did. We were soon seated, and orders placed.

“So what costume are you wearing to Ian’s Halloween bash?” Amy asked.

I cringed. “I forgot about that.”

“Ian did mention he had the perfect costume for you,” Amy reminded with a grin.

“Do you recall our Halloweens when we were young?”

Amy cringed this time. “It was like a tug of war getting you to wear a costume. The perfect excuse to let Ian pick one out for you. He has tons of costumes at his place for his photo shoots. He could pick you something spectacular. And something that matches what he’ll wear to show you’re a perfect match.”

“Sherlock Holmes and Watson,” I said.

Amy laughed. “You both do love mysteries.”

“And this murder mystery has me stumped,” I admitted.

“Can’t find any connections, can you?”

I shook my head. “A piece here, a piece there, but nothing substantial. And it worries me that one connection—Struthers is from Scotland—keeps Ian dangling, albeit low, on the suspect list.”

“There’s also that piece of a letter found at the lodge with the name of the town on it where Struthers had his law practice,” Amy reminded. “I’m only playing the devil’s advocate here since there is no way, I believe that Ian is a murderer, but what if that letter had something in it that Ian didn’t want anyone to see?”

“What could that possibly be? His life is practically an open book in the tabloids.” I argued.

Amy pointed out the obvious. “A good reason to keep something quiet.”

“Ian hires a solicitor in a small town in Scotland to handle something he didn’t want discovered?”

“And the solicitor uses a false name to get in touch with him, so no one knows about it,” Amy said and gasped. “Isn’t Ian looking into building condos on the property? Maybe Struthers was in charge of that so no one would know what Ian was up to.”

I didn’t like where Amy was going with this. “Ian was open with me about that. He told me his father suggested it and was looking into it.”

Amy reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Ian didn’t murder anyone.”

I shook my head. “I like Ian—a lot—which doesn’t help the situation. He talks with me as if we have a future together, but what if he’s sticking close to me to know what’s going on with the investigation?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Oh, Pepper, all you have to do is see the way Ian looks at you to know the man has fallen completely in love with you.”

“Get out of here. He has not. He likes me and I like him,” I argued.

Amy laughed. “That isn’t ‘like’ in his gorgeous eyes, that’s love and lust. And you feel the same but refuse to admit it.” She squeezed my hand again. “Or you’re afraid to admit it to yourself.”

I sighed. “I worry it’s not real. I mean how can a man like Ian fall in love with me?”

“You mean how can a gorgeous man like Ian not fall in love with a beautiful woman like you?” Amy corrected.

“You carry yourself with confidence. Looks, appearance, the way you walk all exudes confidence. That’s why men are drawn to you. I don’t have that, so why would Ian even be interested in me?”

“Because he sees the real you and he wants real, and the most important thing,” —she chuckled—“you both love to solve mysteries.”

“The key,” I said on a sigh.

“A touch of romance from you. How wonderful! Yes, do unlock your heart and let yourself love.”