Love in a Nutshell - Janet Evanovich [85]
“Bingo!” she said as she looked at the pictures on the screen.
The string in question was a replacement wick for a vintage windproof lighter. Laila had been laid up and couldn’t have turned on the taps. But her lover could have. Kate had pegged at least one saboteur. His name was Harley Bagger.
* * *
TUESDAY MORNING was still fresh with frost, and already Matt was running out of reasons to stay in Traverse City. A two-day trip had made sense when it had seemed easier to be far away from Kate than close enough to rush things and do something stupid. Now that they were talking, he was all for soon and stupid.
He’d met with his attorney over coffee at seven, and a suit would be filed to collect from Chet unless the brewer was willing to settle out of court. For both their sakes, he hoped Chet would.
A quick stop out to see Travis last night had been positive and productive. The guy had come up with a business plan and some ideas for a citrus summer beer to celebrate the opening of the Tropicana. All was well with the world.
Almost.
At just past nine, Matt walked out of his office and into Ginger’s reception area. She looked up from the crossword puzzle she was doing.
“What’s a four-letter word for idiot?” she asked.
“Matt.”
“Really. Throw me a word.”
“Dolt.”
She frowned down at the puzzle, then smiled up at him. “That fits.”
And it fit him, too. Since when had he not grabbed for what he wanted?
“Can you call and reschedule tomorrow’s meetings until next week?” he asked.
“Sure. What’s the matter?”
“Unfinished business back home.”
Ginger snorted. “Right. Business. Blond unfinished business, maybe?”
“Yeah, another four-letter word, and it means happiness,” Matt said.
He’d let Ginger guess on her own, because he wanted to get home and grab love.
* * *
KATE GLARED at her cell phone as she parked in front of Matt’s place.
First, she’d called Matt, but the call went straight to voice mail. Then she’d called the police station and come up empty. She’d sort of expected that, since she’d noticed the office was unattended a lot this time of year. Clete’s voice on the answering machine had instructed her to hang up and call 911 if this was an emergency. Having a suspicion of who’d been sabotaging Matt didn’t seem to fit the bill, so she’d left Clete a message, asking him to call her as soon as possible.
Because she was trying to be thorough, she’d done the same on Lizzie’s voice mail, even though she knew Matt’s sister was probably on her way downstate. She’d try all three again, once Chuck had been fed and loved.
Kate exited her Jeep. The air was crisp enough so that it felt sharp in her lungs. By the time evening fell, it was going to be nose-numbingly cold out here in the country. She’d be back at The Nutshell by then, and Chip and Bunny and their respective crews would be, too. All the more reason to cherish the quiet out here.
But as Kate walked toward the front door, a “Buh-woof” sounded from the back of the house.
She halted. Only one dog she’d ever met had a voice that could carry with such conviction.
“Chuck?”
“Buh-woof.”
Kate rounded the side of the house, her shoes sweeping through the blanket of leaves underfoot. Chuck stood on the back deck, tail wagging.
“Dude, when did you become an escape artist?”
“Buh-woof.”
He butted the back door with one broad shoulder, begging to get in. She supposed that Lizzie might have accidentally left him out when she’d departed last night. Kate pulled out her keys, opened the back door, and ushered Chuck in. He gazed up at her with worried hound eyes and let roll another round of “Buh-woof.”
“I don’t speak dog as fluently as your owner, so we’re going to have to play a game of twenty questions. I know you don’t need to go out, so what’s the deal?”
“Buh-woof.”
“Water? Do you need water?”
He wagged his tail. “Buh-woof.”
Kate checked out Chuck’s water bowl. Over half remained, but, hey, she appreciated the concept of not drinking one’s own slobber. If he wanted fresh, fresh he’d get. She bent over to pick up the bowl and caught a