Pepper, the Highlander & the Dead Guy

Amy stopped laughing abruptly. “I don’t know, but I don’t think I’d want to find out.”

“See, now you know why it makes perfect sense that I avoid dates, almost-relationships, and anything to do with either.”

“Like a date Thursday night with Ian?” Amy asked with a supposedly innocent smile.

“It is not a date,” I said proudly.

Amy’s eyes went wide. “Now I get it. You’re going out to grill him about this murder which makes your date a non-date.”

“You got it,” I said, “which means I can relax and enjoy myself and not worry that something will happen to embarrass me.”

“What if you wind up liking him?”

“I’d mess it up eventually or my brothers would mess it up somehow, though Ian made a point of telling me that big brothers didn’t frighten him.” I chewed on the inside of my lip thinking about how Ian’s arm had rubbed against mine and that he hadn’t move away. He let it linger there.

“But what if you really, really like him?”

“Don’t complicate it, Amy. I can’t do complicated.”

“Maybe Mr. Cover Model can.”

I sat staring at the calendar on my computer screen the next morning, my mind completely failing me as to what I intended to add and delete, but active enough about the murder. I worried it had something to do with me and Willow Lake Lodge since Mr. Stevenson had showed up at my place and purposely acted as if he had made a wrong turn, when he knew exactly where he was going and who I was, which meant he was checking out me and my place.

Why? And what could possibly connect me to Willow Lake Lodge?

Mo’s bark had me getting up and stepping over him stretched out in the open doorway of my office, his favorite spot when I worked, to find out who was at the door. Though, I knew who it was—my dad. Mo barked when he arrived but never bothered to go to the door, only those he didn’t know got him off his big butt to see who was at the door.

“What did I tell you about keeping this door locked?” my dad scolded like I was a teenager who didn’t know any better.

“I’ve got Mo. He lets me know about visitors before they reach the door.”

My dad gave a nod past me. “And he looks so threatening.”

I turned to see Mo stretching his way out of the kitchen, his mouth wide in a yawn, and I smiled. “The size of him and those teeth would scare anybody.”

“Keep your door locked,” my dad ordered, and I saluted him. “I mean it, Pepper.”

My dad and I thought a lot alike, so I knew he’d soon conclude what I had. “You think I may be connected to this murder in some way since Mr. Stevenson had a map of Willow Lake Lodge acreage and my land and he showed up here at my place pretending he didn’t know who I was when he did know.”

“If you’re smart enough to figure that out, how come you’re not smart enough to keep your door locked at least while this investigation is going on?”

“I’ll do my best to remember, Dad,” I said, but didn’t promise. I had Mo to protect me, so I was used to leaving it unlocked at times, but I didn’t want him to worry about me when he had more important things that needed his attention.

“Thank you,” he said, and I was glad to see the relief in his eyes.

“Coffee?” I asked.

“A quick cup,” he said, following me to the kitchen, placing his sheriff’s hat on the counter, and sitting on one of the stools.

“Any leads yet?” I asked as I filled one mug with coffee and the other with tea. I kept a fresh pot of coffee going most days since my father and brothers often stopped by using more excuses than I could recall when it was actually under the guise of checking up on me.

“You aren’t going to let go of this no matter how many times I warn you, are you?” he asked, reaching for the mug I held out to him.

“I’m too much like you, Dad. When it comes to a mystery, I just have to solve it.” I grinned. “It’s in my blood.” He shook his head, though I caught a spark of pride in his eyes. “Catch me up, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

I was not beneath using some daughter-power. I turned a pout on him like I did when I was young. One that always made him crumble.

“I’m telling you I have nothing. We still haven’t found his car. His fingerprints haven’t come up anywhere so far and the same for his photo. We’re shooting blind here.”

“Not completely,” I said. “You know his interest was in Willow Lake Lodge and my place. That’s something at least.”