Chapter Five
Pippa crawled out of her canopied yellow bed the next morning. Draped in yards and yards of buttercup and white organza with tiny little flowers and butterflies tacked onto the drapery, it was a bed for a princess. Phi surprised her with it when she was twelve. Unfortunately, Phi hadn’t replaced the mattress since then either. Pippa recognized the lumps in this one from past visits. But it wasn’t only the mattress keeping sleep at bay. Allie hadn’t called back. She suspected Allie wasn’t going to call either, and that meant another look at her action list.
The missing treasures bugged her too. It didn’t make any sense. Sure, the stuff was valuable but it had limited marketability. It wasn’t like taking an iPad and fencing it, or getting rid of a DVD player.
The treasures were unique, easily traceable, especially in this part of the world. Around two in the morning she’d come up with the theory that perhaps whoever took them didn’t know that, and had no idea what they’d really taken. Which made her want to scream, because this person could be selling them for ten bucks in a back alley somewhere. Which then begged the question, why would anyone working for Matt risk their job for ten bucks?
The entire thing made no sense. In fresh, spring green, the happy bathroom mocked her mood as she stumbled into it. Ghost Falls was tiny, everybody knew everybody else, and Phi was like royalty here. Phi used the same cleaning lady she’d had for the last twenty years. Of course, she couldn’t rule June out completely, but why now?
She snapped on the faucets to run water into the mammoth claw-foot tub. Phi didn’t believe in showers, and there wasn’t a single one in the house. God, what Pippa would give for a shower to wash away the fugue this morning.
It made sense to go and see Nate. He was sheriff here, he knew this town, and might have some ideas for her. Then again, he was the law around here, and she hesitated to escalate it to that level. Matt was the logical person to speak to. He knew Phi almost as well as she did. She wouldn’t go in there all guns blazing, she’d take it easy, slow and careful, and see what happened.
The bath made her sleepier and she tripped over the curling edge of the delicate silk carpet as she tried to get dressed. Three times. You would think sooner or later her brain would register the fact that the end curled up. Jeans seemed too casual for her morning mission, so she opted for a summer dress, fitted on top and skimming an inch above her knee. She paired it with heels, because this was not a trip to the beach.
She checked her reflection before she left. Age appropriate, occasion appropriate, and looking cool and in control. So many women on her show got those things confused. Younger piece of ass was hosting Your Look, Your Way now, and God help the women on it, because the girl saw no reason not to dress everyone like a size two twenty-four-year-old. Pippa had to get her show back. It was everything she’d worked for, dreamed of.
She finished her hair and makeup. Battle armor in place, and ready to face central Ghost Falls. May God be with her.
Her phone buzzed and she glanced down. Allie’s number. Her hands shook as she answered the call. “Hi, Allie.”
“Um . . . no. It’s not Allie, it’s her husband. Todd.”
Pippa sank onto the edge of her bed, knees shaky. “Hi.”
“Look.” Todd cleared his throat. “Allie asked me to call you.”
Pippa got a sinking feeling in her gut.
“She got your messages, and stuff.” Todd cleared his throat. His voice came back stronger, with an edge of determination. “You know what she’s like. She’s shy and all this stuff has been hell on her. People stop her on the street and ask about it. Everyone calling her all the time. It was hard enough to get her to do the show in the first place.”
“I understand that, Todd.” Pippa could hardly hear her own voice over her hammering heartbeat. Her entire life hinged on this call. “But she was there. She knows what really happened. Without her I’m—”
“She says she’s sorry,” Todd said. “She wanted to make sure I told you that, but she can’t help you.”
“But, Todd, she’s the only—”
“She’s sorry. We’re both sorry, but this thing. It’s gotta stop.”
“I’m trying to make it stop,” Pippa said—to the dead phone line.
* * *
Evans Construction’s offices sat on a side street off Main. Pippa pulled her car into a marked parking spot and stared through her windshield. She may as well deal with this now, and give herself time to regroup from the Todd shutout.
The original office had grown to swallow up the two buildings on either side of it. Matt ran all this and still fixed her grandmother’s kitchen sink?
She pushed open a set of glass doors into a smart but modest lobby. Good, quality leather furniture, and a couple of discreet photographs of projects, but a lot like Matt himself—quiet, self-assured, and straight to the point.
A middle-aged woman sat behind a tall, wooden desk. “Can I help you?”
“Mrs. Cameron?” The school secretary seemed to have made a career move. The change hadn’t extended to her tightly curled crop of aggressively chestnut hair.
Mrs. Cameron’s purple mouth disappeared into a thin line. “Hello, Pippa.”
Okay, then. Another ex-fan on the rampage, or was it Mrs. Cameron being the same Mrs. Cameron and taking no crap from anybody? It had to be tough taking the combined hormonal backlash of four hundred students between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. “You look well.”
“Thank you.” Frost coated the words.
“I wondered if Matt was in.”
“Mr. Evans is a very busy man.” Mrs. Cameron held up a finger and answered her ringing phone. “Evans Construction.”
Well, she considered herself firmly put in her place. But Mrs. Cameron still had nothing on an LA casting agent. Pippa waited for her to finish her call. It was all in the delivery. Say it with enough conviction and the other person might come around to seeing things your way. “I realize he’s busy, but he’ll want to see me. Is he in?”
Mrs. Cameron’s lips nearly disappeared, she pressed them together so tightly. “I’ll check if he’s in.”
“I’ll wait.” Matt was here. Gorgons didn’t guard an empty cave.
Mrs. Cameron picked up her phone and spoke to someone on the other side, keeping her voice low enough that Pippa couldn’t hear. She put the phone smartly back in its cradle, clearly not happy with the response. “Mr. Evans said he will see you now.”
“Lovely.” Pippa sailed past her with a smile.
“I saw your television program.” Mrs. Cameron wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
Pippa stopped and met her hostile stare. “Yes, I would imagine you did. There are a lot of people who saw the program, particularly the last one.”
Mrs. Cameron sniffed and braced her shoulders, warming up for more.
“But unlike most of the people watching, you knew me before the show and have the advantage of being able to discern whether what you saw was the whole truth or not.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice, forcing Mrs. Cameron to lean in to hear. “Not everything you see on TV is real. You told me that in high school.”
“Agrippina.” Matt’s bass rumble skittered across her nerve endings. She really was going to have to cure him of that habit.
She jerked her chin at him. “Meat.”
He got close and kept on coming, stopping right in her space and grabbing her hand. “This is a nice surprise.”
Yeah, well, about that. She was going to send his day right into the toilet. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” She glanced at Mrs. Cameron, who wasn’t missing a word of this. “In private.”
“Sure.” He kept hold of her hand and led her down a corridor deeper into the office. Warm and callused, his hand engulfed hers.
He’d been busy in the years since she’d left town. What used to be a dusty old building with a couple of offices had been transformed. At least a dozen people milled around in a large, bright central space. She nodded a greeting to a couple of familiar faces. Doors to glass-fronted offices led away from the central space, two glass-fronted conference rooms dominated the street side. “Did you do all this?”
He shrugged. “I had some help.”
“I’m impressed.” He’d built himself a small empire here. A long, long way from the lost nineteen-year-old forced to take over his father’s business.
A woman passed her, sucked in a breath, and scurried away. It only hurt if you allowed it to.
Matt stopped and pulled her to a halt beside him. “Jill,” he called the woman back. “You remember Pippa.”
Jill . . . something, chemistry class, a year or two above her in school, and puckering up her face like she’d swallowed a lemon. “Yes.”
“Hi, Jill.” Because what else could she say, with Matt keeping her standing here like a turkey ready for its roasting.
Jill stuck her nose in the air and spun around.
Matt went rigid beside her. “Pippa’s staying with her grandmother.”
Pippa tugged her hand, she wanted out of here before this turned into a lynch mob. Another woman, vaguely familiar, peered around her computer monitor. It was easier to deal with the hate when strangers directed it at you.
Matt tightened his grip enough to keep her in place. “Pippa had a bad time in LA. She’s come home to the people who know better than to believe the worst of her.”
Matt the crusader. Always there for the underdog. God, she so didn’t want to be his latest project. “Leave it.”
“No.” Matt glanced at her and away again. “Just for the record, ladies, she didn’t say it the way it was aired.”
Her crew! Of course! They would have the original footage, or at least know how to get their hands on it. Pippa wanted to smack herself in the head. She’d been banking on Allie coming through for her, but she should have looked to the people who had worked side by side with her for years. Surely they’d help her.
Jill frowned and a flicker of doubt crossed her face. The younger woman ducked back behind her monitor.
“But of course you guessed that, didn’t you?” Matt smiled and walked away. Taking her with him, his strides so long she was forced to trot to keep up with him. He reached what she assumed was his office. It had better be, otherwise someone was going to be way pissed off to have their door slammed that hard. “How do you stand it?”
“I don’t know.” And she didn’t, because most of the time it was more a case of grin and bear it. Never let them see you bleed or they’d attack. Which brought her back to Matt buckling into his armor on her behalf. “I ignore it, Matt, and I would prefer if you did the same.”
“Why?” He loomed over her. Still topping her in her heels by a good four inches.
“Because the more fuel you give the fire, the brighter and longer it’s going to burn.”
He snorted and tugged her closer to him. “Bullshit. These people grew up with you, they know better.”
“I’m not your pet project, Matt.”
He raised his brows at her. “Maybe not, but you’re in my office now, and I won’t have people being rude to you.”
Okay, that was kind of nice. When was the last time someone had stood up for her? A long, long time, for sure. Living in LA you got used to being a one-person army, and you counted your friends on one hand. Maybe the crew wasn’t the best idea. Through the glass front of Matt’s office Jill watched her, now standing next to the other woman, their heads close together. No prizes for guessing the topic of their conversation. Then again, her options were few.
“Look, you did a nice thing, standing up for me, but I . . .” She ran out of steam under the steady regard of his amber eyes. Not brown and not quite yellow, like the warm glow through a bottle of single malt. “Anyway, you might not be so keen about being in my corner once I tell you why I’m here.”
“Oh?” Up went a brow and he released her hand to walk around his desk.
The warmth of his grasp still tingled along her skin. “It’s about Phi, and those men you sent around last week.”
“For her gargoyles?” He indicated for her to take a chair. The intercom on his desk lit up. He leaned forward and pressed the button. “I’m in a meeting, Mrs. Cameron.”
The old dragon had a helluva lot of fight still left. “It’s your brother. The sheriff.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Cameron, I’m sure my brother, the sheriff, won’t mind waiting a few minutes. And if not, I do know where he works.” He looked up at Pippa. “Sorry, I had a lunch date with Nate, but he’ll wait. Nate will do anything for a free meal.”
Sometimes fate set stuff up for you. “Actually.” She took a deep breath. “You might want to have him here.”
“Why?” His eyes cooled and his face settled into harsh lines. “Did something happen at the Folly?”
She suppressed the desire to fidget like a schoolgirl under that look. Beneath the charm Matt was a tough customer, and a person did well to remember that. “I was going to talk to you first, but if Nate is here . . .” She finished with a shrug.
A sharp knock interrupted them and the door opened.
Holy shit! Nate Evans had grown up and done it good. Thank God, she was sitting down because Nate was a kick to the back of the knees. Darker than Matt, with the same chiseled features and lazy lion eyes. His body filled out his uniform like the thing was ironed onto every curve and ridge. Every hot inch of him yelled “real man.” Quite a change from her years amongst pampered show cats. Dear Lord, the girls of Ghost Falls must be falling over themselves. Was that ink she saw peeping out of the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt?
Nate gave her his shy, little-bit-wicked smile. “Hey, Pippa. Heard you were back.”
“Hey, Nate,” she breathed. Get ahold of yourself, Pippa, and stop simpering.
Matt snorted and gave her a hard look over his desk. There went her breathing again, and a prickle of awareness arcing over the paper-strewn wood between them. The same sort of sensual nature’s wake-up call she’d been avoiding by being with Ray for the last four years.
“Pippa was about to tell me something about Phi when you came in. She seemed to think it might interest you.”
Back on track and about to get very uncomfortable in here. “Yes, it seems that Phi is missing some . . . things.”
“Things?” Matt cocked his head. “As in some of her things have been taken?”
Ah, shit. Matt looked annoyed now, and why wouldn’t he be? Asking a man if one of his employees was a thief was never going to be an easy conversation. “I’m not sure.”
“Either they’re there or they’re not there, which is it?”
“Easy, Matt.” Nate took the seat beside her. “What does this have to do with Matt?”
“I think this is where Pippa is about to ask if the two guys I sent over to check Phi’s gutters made off with the family fortune.”
Did he have to make it sound so dumb? “I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort.”
“So, what are you suggesting? I took them?”
“Will you shut up?” Nate glared at his brother.
“No.” Matt placed a firm fist on the edge of his desk. “This is my business and my reputation—”
“I’m not saying anyone stole anything.” God, she had to get in here fast before this went even further south. “That’s why I came to talk to you first. It doesn’t make sense, any of it, and I wanted to ask your opinion.”
Matt eased back in his chair.
“I bet you feel like a dick?” Nate threw him an evil grin.
“No, Matt’s right. Anything that taints his reputation is bad for business,” she said when Nate stared at her. “I’m not saying any of this right because I’m not sure what I’m saying.”
Matt leaned forward in his chair and jabbed the button on his intercom. “Mrs. Cameron, could you bring in some coffee?” He sat back again and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why don’t we start again?”
Nate waggled his fingers at the intercom. “And some cookies. I’ve been up since four and haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Would you like me to get her to cook you breakfast?” Matt speared his brother with a glance.
Nate considered his suggestion. “You think she would?”
“Tell me about Phi?” Matt said.
So she told them, about the game, the missing treasures, and how she ended up here. Not blaming anyone, fact-finding.
Mrs. Cameron interrupted them with the coffee tray. She kept her gaze averted from Pippa, but gifted Nate with a beaming smile. “I sent out for some muffins, Sheriff. I know you don’t get time to eat, and we need you to keep up your strength.”
Nate Evans, Ghost Falls chick magnet and dragon tamer.
“What’s she doing?” Matt peered over her shoulder.
Jill stood outside the glass wall, two blouses in her hand. Staring straight at Pippa, she put the blue one against her face and raised her eyebrows, took it away and replaced it with a yellow one.
God, not the yellow, it leached all the color out of her face. “She wants me to tell her which blouse,” Pippa said.
“After the way she treated you earlier?” Matt half rose from his chair, ready to jump to her defense again.
“It’s fine.” Pippa waved him down again. “It happens . . . used to happen all the time.”
“Really?” Matt glanced at Jill.
“I’ve had people stop me in the street, at restaurants. One woman even chased me into a fitting room.” Pippa had never thought she’d miss that.
“So, there was nobody at the house between the roofers leaving and you arriving?” The caffeine seemed to kick-start Nate’s sheriff brain.
“No.” Pippa dragged her gaze off Jill, who was lifting and lowering blouses on repeat. “But I also have no idea when these things disappeared. It could have happened months ago.” She turned back to Matt, who was focused on Jill through the glass wall. “That’s why I came to you. I thought you might know more.”
“Right.” He dragged his attention back at her.
“You know there is another explanation.” Nate blew on his coffee and took a careful sip. He added more sugar. “How old is your grandmother?”
“Seventy-eight.”
Matt threw her a wry grin. “Don’t you mean sixty-eight?”
It warmed her from the inside. Matt got Phi without judgment or condemnation. It was another of those things she liked about him. “It depends who’s asking.”
“Okay.” Nate sipped and added more sugar. Pippa gaped as yet another spoonful of sugar went into his coffee. Damn men and their metabolisms. “There have been a couple of incidents around town—”
“Those were bullshit.” Matt slapped his hand down on the desk. “The Diva’s eccentric, always has been and you know how this town loves a bit a drama.”
“What sort of incidents?” Pippa got a sick feeling in her stomach.
Nate settled down, happy with his cup, at last. “Times when she got a bit confused, misunderstandings. That sort of thing.”
“Come on, Nate.” Matt shook his head. “That was as much Bets’s fault as Phi’s.”
She didn’t give a crap whose fault it was, Pippa could do with knowing what these “misunderstandings” were. “What happened?”
“Phi left Bets’s store without paying for something, a carton of milk and some eggs.”
“Phi went grocery shopping?” Not the point, but still damn hard to picture.
“June was ill.” Matt’s tiny smile shared her amazement. You had to know Phi.
“Well, that explains it.” Pippa really didn’t like where this was going. It too nearly echoed the tiny concern nestling in the back of her brain. “Phi doesn’t shop, never has. She probably didn’t realize she had to pay.”
Nate stopped with his cup halfway to his mouth and gaped at her.
“She always had minions when she was singing. They would take care of the payment, while Phi picked things out.” It sounded stupid, but Phi’s world was so different from everyone else’s. “My mother or the housekeeper get her groceries. Her clothes are made for her and they have an arrangement. The thing with Bets proves nothing.”
“It’s not the only thing.” Nate’s gaze flitted from Matt to her. “I’ve had to take her home once or twice. Found her on a walk, not sure where to go.”
Phi had an excellent sense of direction, when she paid attention to where she was going. Which was not often. Pippa opened her mouth and shut it again. Trying to explain Phi was like trying to explain chaos theory. It didn’t make any sense and further explanation only made you more confused. Jill shifted into her sight line with her alternating hangers. Blue shirt? Yellow shirt? Neither, the blue color was better than the yellow but they would both hit her in exactly the wrong place on her hips.
“Look, I have to get going.” Nate stood, brushing muffin crumbs off his pants. “If you want to report a theft, I can do something, but until then . . .” He turned back to Matt. “I came to tell you I couldn’t make lunch, and ask if you’ve heard about Eric.”
Matt nodded. He kept his gaze on Jill’s pantomime. “Yeah, Jo told me.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Nate snorted. Giving her a nod, he left, striding across the open-plan office and taking every female gaze with him.
Except Jill. The woman was relentless.
“Could you just . . . ?” Matt waved his hand at Jill.
Pippa turned to Jill. The woman got more enthusiastic as she noted Pippa’s attention. “It won’t take long.” Pippa yanked open the door to Matt’s office. “If you have to choose between those two, I’d go with blue. Yellow will clash with your skin tones.”
Jill dropped her arms. “What do you mean, if I have to?”
“The shape.” Pippa strode over and took the blue shirt from her. She held it against Jill’s torso. “The bottom hits you right at your widest part. Go for something shorter.”
“Really?” Jill held both shirts in front of her.
“Look.” Gently Pippa turned Jill to face her reflection in Matt’s office wall. “We’re all a bit broader across the hip. If you go below that area, your legs will look shorter and make you appear squat.” She pressed the blue shirt against Jill’s torso and lifted the hem slightly. “But if the shirt hits you higher and narrows under your bust . . .” Bunching up handfuls of fabric she made her point.
Jill’s face lit up. “Oooh.”
“And you look slim and put together.”
There was the look, the one that made Pippa’s job all worthwhile. She’d worked her butt off to get to the point she had been before Ray snatched it all away. Dammit, she wanted that back.
“You’re right.” Jill beamed and scuttled away with her shirts.
Matt loomed up behind Pippa. “You do that well, Agrippina.”
The name-calling thing really should have stopped in junior high. “I didn’t lose my job because I wasn’t good at it . . . Meat.”
He grinned. “I’m sure you were.” He folded his hand around hers as he walked her out. “How long are you in town?”
“I’m really not sure.” Behind Matt’s shoulder, Jill waved.
Matt raised her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her fingers. “Don’t run out on me again.”