Mission: Imbrewable – A Frothy Fiasco (The Coffee Loft Series: Mountain Brew Collection)

Chapter 5

Luke

I grin as Kaylee devours her third hot dog. She sure is a greenhorn when it comes to camping, but she’s learning quickly and she doesn’t get discouraged easily. This is the most fun I’ve had with a woman in a long time. Her ineptness is rather charming, and I feel like a hero when she gives me that mega-watt smile. However, I wonder why she came on this camping trip. What motivated her to try camping at this juncture in her life? A niggle of suspicion blossoms in the back of my brain.

I shake it away. “Do you have room for a cookie?” I ask, holding up the tin.

“Yes, sir!” she says, waggling her fingers. She snags a cookie from the tin and nibbles on it, a look of satisfaction on her face.

Mom makes the best chocolate chip cookies. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like them. I put them in my checked luggage so they made it here safely rather than being confiscated and enjoyed by some TSA agent. We each polish off five cookies, and I glance in awe at the woman’s lithe frame. How does she stay so trim?

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Kaylee asks.

Since I don’t want to tell her about the stakeout I’m planning, I keep my reply vague. “Mostly relaxing. How about you?”

“Elizabeth Taylor and I are going to take a hike. You’re welcome to join us.”

Anxiety creeps in at the thought of Kaylee hiking by herself. She could get lost. Or fall and break a leg. With her propensity for being clumsy, any number of calamities could happen to her. “I can join you in the afternoon. Will that work?”

“Sure! That gives me time for breakfast and a leisurely shower.”

Does she realize that the camp showers have limited hot water? Guess I’ll let her discover that herself .

“How about we rendezvous at your campsite after lunch, say one o’clock?” I suggest.

“That sounds wonderful.”

“By the way, why did you name your dog Elizabeth Taylor?” I’ve been curious about the extravagant name and why she never uses a nickname.

A gale of laughter slips from her lips. “People usually ask me that earlier. You’ve been wondering about the name ever since I introduced you, haven’t you?”

“Busted,” I admit sheepishly.

“She wasn’t originally my dog,” she replies, her expression turning serious. “The elderly lady who lived beside the Coffee Loft owned her. When Gladys passed, she left the Frenchie to me because I always walked and played with her.” She pauses for a couple beats, then tacks on, “Her being the dog not Gladys!”

I grin at the unnecessary addition. “Okay, so Gladys named the dog. Did she ever tell you why? ”

“Gladys said that the Frenchie was the most beautiful dog she ever met and so she had to name her after the most beautiful woman in the world,” Kaylee says with a fond smile.

I glance at the chubby dog. A golden retriever or an Irish setter might qualify as the most beautiful dog in the world in my book. Not a dog with stubby legs and ears too big for its head. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so I keep my lips sealed.

Glancing towards my campsite, I can see the silhouette outline of my tent against the colorful sky. The sun is going to slip behind the mountains in a few minutes, but for now, an amazing sunset blankets the peaks.

“I forgot how spectacular Colorado sunsets can be,” I say, nodding towards the west.

Kaylee follows my gaze and puts her hand over her heart. “Even though I see these all the time, they never get old.”

We sit quietly, enjoying Mother Nature’s vibrant show. The sky changes rapidly as pinks turn into orange, then fade into shades of blue while the sun continues to slide behind the mountains.

The sky fades to black—my cue to leave. Standing, I say, “Make sure you put all the food in your car so it doesn’t attract bears.”

Her eyes grow round at my warning. “I didn’t think about that,” she squeaks.

“They won’t bother you if they don’t smell food,” I say, but her panicked expression doesn’t change. “Want my cell phone number, just in case?” I offer. Again, I wonder why she’s out here all alone when clearly she’s not a seasoned camper.

“Yes, I’d like that!” She rattles off her number, and her phone chimes when I send her a text. Amazing the cell service you can get even in the mountains these days.

“Feel free to call me if you need anything,” I say as I stroll towards my campsite. “And don’t forget to store the food! ”

She nods, a look of uncertainty written on her face. I’m pretty sure I’ll be getting a late-night phone call. No doubt about it.

~*~

My tent feels cramped compared to Kaylee’s spacious one. I barely manage to extend my long legs to their full length after I crawl into my sleeping bag. Snapping on the electric lantern, I locate my phone. Since the General is an hour time zone behind me, it’s still a reasonable hour for me to dial him to check in, let him know I got here okay, and ask about any new developments.

“Winston, here!” he barks after just a couple rings.

Even though I enjoy working for him and the assignments are generally interesting and challenging, his people skills could use a little work. At least I’ve worked for him long enough that I knew to keep the phone a foot from my ear until after his traditional boisterous greeting .

I pull the phone closer to my ear. “Winston, I’m settled into the campsite and ready to do some reconnaissance work tomorrow.”

He grunts. “It’s about time I heard from you. What have you been doing all day?”

Like I said. His people skills need work.

“Um, well, I set up camp. That took quite a while—"

“You met a woman, didn’t you?” he asks, cutting me off.

Is he clairvoyant?

“Why do you ask?”

He chuckles. “Luke Fieldstone, I’ve never known you to not check in as soon as you arrive for an assignment. There are only two things that would keep you from doing that. Food or a woman. Am I right?”

“Maybe,” I grumble. The man is a zealous matchmaker. He’s like a bloodhound whenever he gets any sniff of romance.

“What’s her name? ”

Leaning back against my pillow, I describe Kaylee, meeting her at the Coffee Loft, and helping her set up her tent. “I wonder why she decided to go camping?” I muse after my long-winded story.

A laugh rips across the line. “Seriously? You don’t know why she’s camping at the campsite right next to yours?”

“No.”

“Women are transparent as glass, if you know how to read them. Did you possibly mention camping when you first met her at the coffee shop?”

Did I? The conversation comes back to me, and I realize what a bad secret agent I am. I even blurted out the name of the campground. I smack my forehead. “I did!”

“She wants to get to know you better,” Winston says, with a little too much glee tingeing his voice.

“Really?”

“Yep. I’d bet money on it.”

A warm, happy feeling flows through me at the thought that Kaylee followed me here to get to know me better. The feeling is dashed when a new worry occurs to me. “You don’t think she’s a stalker, do you?” I ask, suddenly questioning her motives.

“She sounds innocent but do keep vigilant in case she’s part of the alpine-parsley gang. Maybe they sent her there as a decoy to distract you.”

Great. I didn’t even consider that. I need to stop being so distracted! “How would they know about me?”

“Maybe there’s a mole on the inside at the park service,” Winston suggests.

This assignment gets weirder by the minute. What I thought was a relatively easy, risk-free project suddenly feels dangerous. A potential mole... A beautiful woman sent to distract me... An innocent-looking French bulldog... This gang must feel threatened if all this is part of their plan.

“Duly noted. I’ll be careful,” I say.

“Good luck!” Winston says, then hangs up.

I stare at the blank screen. Is Kaylee like one of those beautiful spies in a “Mission: Impossible” movie? Put in my path to keep me from my mission? Suddenly I don’t know who I can trust. But I do know I’ll need to keep a close eye on her until I can figure her out.