8. Claire
CHAPTER 8
Claire
S now flurries danced in the air as I hustled down the sidewalk toward my favorite pet bakery. Pebbles needed more of her favorite peanut butter and yogurt bones.
My prissy little dog, nestled under my arm, had her nose in the air, sniffing as we walked. I always brought her with me when I visited Wags of Wuv.
But first, coffee.
Turning the corner, I spied the front entrance for The Cozy Cup. As I approached, the rich, warm scent of coffee assailed me. A smile lit my face.
Yes, coffee was exactly what I needed.
This week had been one for the books. It was all over town that I found Marie Hammond’s body, so Monday and Tuesday, reporters tied up my phone lines, and one enterprising soul even showed up at my office after I rebuked his request for a comment over the phone. Tamara put on her bulldog cloak and sent that poor sap packing with his proverbial pen shoved where the sun didn’t shine.
I treated her to lunch that day.
Tuesday, and part of Wednesday, I spent negotiating the sale of the space next to The Cozy Cup. Miranda tried to slip in some language that could have endangered Mina’s pocketbook if the inspection came back with unsatisfactory results. Mina wasn’t opposed to paying for repairs, but she wanted the option to ask the seller to fix them or to come down in price to offset some, or all, of the cost.
I really didn’t like Miranda Bennett.
This wasn’t the first time she’d tried such a thing. And I wasn’t the only agent she tried it on. Most of us had wised up to her, though. But she still tried. Every time.
Pushing in the door, I stepped into the coffeeshop. The aroma here was ten times stronger, making my mouth water.
Mina, stationed behind the counter, spotted me and waved.
Smiling, I waved back as I got in line.
Pebbles gave a little bark when we reached the front, vibrating in my arms. Mina had a treat from Wags of Wuv in her hand.
“Who’s Auntie Mina’s good girl?”
Pebbles barked again.
Chuckling, Mina handed over the treat.
“She’s so spoiled.” I shook my head, grinning.
“That is not entirely my fault.”
“True.”
Amusement dancing in her eyes, Mina slipped Pebbles another treat.
“What can I get for you?”
I eyed her latte menu. “Let’s go with the toasted marshmallow mocha.” A little s’mores action sounded good.
Mina lifted a cup off the stack and wrote my name and drink order on it with a black marker. “You want a muffin?”
“No, but I’ll take a cookie.” The plate-size chocolate chunk cookies were calling my name.
She added that to the order on the screen, then read off my total.
I added a tip on the screen facing me, then slid my debit card into the reader and entered my PIN. Mina bagged up my cookie and handed it to me, then moved to the espresso machine to start my drink.
I stepped to the side and waited.
With my back to the counter, I perused the small café. In the far corner, two men caught my attention. The one facing me looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
He looked my way. I quickly averted my gaze, looking at Pebbles and scratching her behind the ears.
I chanced a look at him again.
He was still staring.
Feeling like a creeper, I shifted so my line of sight was out the front windows and not toward that corner. It also had the added bonus of being able to watch Mina make my drink. She was nearly finished.
But it wasn’t soon enough.
“Good morning, Ms. Holmes.”
I knew that voice. It had played as a soundtrack on several dreams this week.
I turned and looked up into a pair of rich brown eyes. Behind him, stood the man I saw at the corner table, a curious smirk on his handsome face.
A face that looked remarkably like Detective Quartermaine’s, just slightly older.
“Detective.” I offered him a nod. My gaze traveled past him to his companion.
He got the hint, turning to look at the man. “This is my brother, Ellis. Ellis, meet Claire Holmes. And her dog.” He turned back to me with a quizzical frown. “I’m sorry, what was her name again?”
“Pebbles.”
“That’s right.”
Behind him, Ellis chuckled.
“Pebbles. The escape artist.” Detective Quartermaine lifted a hand, aiming to pet the dog, but she growled.
I rolled my lips in, smothering a smile. Pebbles remembered the man who stopped her morning jaunt through the neighborhood.
Ellis laughed harder. “What’s the matter, Oz? Afraid of a five-pound ball of fluff?”
The detective aimed a glare at his brother. “The little ones are the kind you have to watch out for the most. Ankle biters,” he muttered.
“Pebbles is sweet.” I curled a hand around my dog’s head and scratched her ear.
Detective Quartermaine scoffed. “She’s a menace.”
I covered Pebbles’s ears. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad you’re cuter than he is.”
Ellis’s bark of laughter drew out the smile I’d been fighting.
“Oh, I like you. Ozzie, you didn’t tell me she had a wicked sense of humor.”
He’d talked about me with his brother? I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
Grumbling under his breath, the detective glanced up and gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m going to murder Piper for giving me that damn nickname,” he muttered.
A small frown formed between my eyebrows. Who was Piper?
Ellis snorted. “If you were, you’d have done it last year. I’ve called you Oz since we were young. Ozzie isn’t that different.”
“Makes me sound like a rocker.”
“You don’t like rock music?” I asked.
He turned those dark eyes on me. Thick, black lashes framed them, making him appear as though he wore eyeliner. I knew women who’d kill for the look he had naturally.
“I think it’s fine,” he answered. “But I’m a cop. Not a musician. I can’t sing or play an instrument to save my life.”
“It’s true,” Ellis chimed in.
I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s still a fine name. Strong. Oscar feels a little formal, especially for someone your age.”
“Exactly. I’m a young detective. I need the cred that comes with my name.”
“I would say your actions speak louder since you’re in the position you are already.”
Ellis gave his brother’s shoulder a shove. “See? She gets it.”
Detective Quartermaine rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Have you been keeping your word, Ms. Holmes, and staying out of trouble?”
“Yes. I’ve been too busy to get in trouble.”
“Though she might make an exception and strangle Miranda Benett if the woman doesn’t knock off her shenanigans.” Mina leaned over the counter with my coffee.
I turned her way, taking the coffee with a frown. “What did she do now? I thought we had everything squared away?”
“We do. I’m just being proactive. Until it’s a done deal, I’m not holding my breath she won’t try something else.”
My mouth flattened. That was the truth.
“Who’s Miranda Bennett?” Ellis asked.
“Another realtor,” Mina answered. “She’s a real piece of work. Wholly unethical, unlike my best friend.” She held out a hand, gesturing to me.
“You’re a real estate agent?” Ellis cocked his head, eyeing me with interest. “Ozzie didn’t mention that. He just said you were a witness.”
“I am. Are you in the market for a house?”
“I am,” he parroted, a smile forming.
“You have a house.” Detective Quartermaine turned to look at him.
“A rental, yeah. Since I’m staying, I want to buy.”
I bent down and set Pebbles on the floor to free up a hand. Hooking her leash over my wrist, I reached into my handbag and took a business card from my wallet, then held it out to Ellis. “Here. Give me a call, and we’ll set up a time to meet and discuss what you’re looking for.”
Ellis took the card. “I’ll do that. Thank you.” He offered me a disarming smile. I couldn’t help but wonder what the same smile would look like on his brother.
But judging from the scowl on Detective Quartermaine’s face, I doubted I would find out anytime soon.
“How’s the investigation going?” I asked. “Have you found Mr. Hammond?”
The scowl intensified. “No.”
“Did you check all their property? He has a cabin near Hoonah.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know that? I thought you were staying out of trouble?”
“He asked me to sell it too.”
“Have you?”
“Sold it?”
He nodded.
“No. I haven’t even listed it. They wanted to put the house up first and get it sold. Rural property like that is harder to sell in the winter because it’s harder to get people out there to see it.”
“Makes sense. Do you know what he used the cabin for? From what I’ve learned about Warren Hammond, he doesn’t strike me as the hunting type.”
“Me either.” I’d been surprised when he disclosed the property to me. Both of the Hammonds were city people, through and through. “But that’s what most people do in the bush, so I asked him if the hunting was good there. He said he didn’t hunt, and that the cabin was just a place to get away. I looked it up on a map. It’s not far from Hoonah. An hour or two by ATV or a short hop with a bush plane.”
Detective Quartermaine’s eyes narrowed. I could practically see the gears spinning in his mind as he mulled over that information.
“That’s good to know. Thank you,” he said, almost as an afterthought.
Pebbles barked and propped her tiny feet on my leg. I glanced down, and she wagged her tail. My spoiled dog was tired of being where she couldn’t see.
Scooping her up, I aimed a smile at the detective. “You’re welcome. If I can be of further assistance, you know where to find me.” I glanced past him to Ellis. “Give me a call next week. We’ll find you the perfect place.”
“I’ll do that.” He lifted his hand, my business card still in his fingers.
“Great.” I offered him a sunny smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some errands to run.” With a quick glance at the man’s still brooding brother, I waved at Mina, who was back to filling orders, then hurried out of The Cozy Cup and away from Ozzie’s intense, expressive gaze.