Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Rasker stood in the lounge doorway, his brow furrowed with concern. He wore casual clothes again, not his usual consultant attire, and his dark blue hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had just woken up.
“What are you doing back there?” he asked, stepping closer. His brows snapped into a frown. “What’s wrong?”
Holly’s mind raced. Did Rasker do this? He wanted her to give up the outpost. He wanted Moone’s Landing to fail so Rest ’N Recharge could swoop in and buy it for nothing.
Sabotaging the oven would be a petty tactic, but it would make the hotel less functional, the guests less happy, the reviews even worse.
But even as the thought formed, she dismissed it. This wasn’t Rasker’s style. He was direct, sometimes brutally so. If he wanted to undermine her, he would do it with data and arguments and cold, hard facts, not by puncturing power gel cylinders in the middle of the night.
“The oven is broken,” she said, her voice coming out more scattered than she intended.
“I was trying to cook for the guests. Pot pie. But the oven won’t turn on, so I pulled it out to see what was wrong, and I found…
” She gestured helplessly at the exposed back panel. “Someone punctured the power cylinder.”
Rasker’s frown deepened. He moved past her and crouched to examine the cylinder she had indicated.
His eyes narrowed as he studied the tiny puncture.
“I won’t pretend to know how a tiny hole can kill an oven,” he said.
“But there is clearly a hole in that…thing. You’re sure that’s why the oven isn’t working? ”
“Yes.” Holly wrapped her arms around herself. “Gel-based power supply is a great feature—zero fire risk and super-long energy life, but the charge neutralizes when exposed to air, before turning it flammable.” She shivered, thinking of the ramifications. “Who would disable my oven? And why?”
Rasker straightened and turned to face her. “I would very much like you to sell this moon to my client, but I am telling you—I did not do this.”
“I know you didn’t.” She slanted him a look. “I wondered about that for a moment, but this isn’t your style.”
He visibly bristled. “My business style does not include any form of sabotage, blackmail, or coercion. I have an idea of who might have done this, however.”
“Who?” she asked.
“Cody.”
Holly blinked. “Cody?”
“He’s been conspicuously absent since you fired him. I’ve barely seen him around the outpost.” Rasker’s expression was hard. “He was the cook here. You took that away from him. This could be his revenge.”
“Really?” Holly scrunched her nose and shook her head.
“I don’t think Cody even knows how to use the oven properly, let alone sabotage it this skillfully.
The puncture is precise. Small enough to be overlooked, and unless you know how these cells work, like I do, you’d never suspect sabotage.
” She reached inside, pried out the damaged cylinder, and held it up.
“This took knowledge I don’t know he has.
And besides, when I fired him, he barely even appeared to care.
It was kind of weird. He just accepted it and wandered off. ”
Rasker was quiet for a moment. “Then who would want you to fail at cooking?”
It was a good question. Holly didn’t have an answer.
She sighed and got to her feet. “I don’t know. But I have a pot pie that needs to be cooked and an oven that’s useless.”
Rasker glanced at the baking dish on the counter, then back at Holly. Something in his expression shifted, becoming almost thoughtful.
“Harry,” he said.
“What?”
“Harry’s mushroom shop. He has multiple heating units for drying and roasting his fungi.” Rasker moved to help her push the oven back into its alcove. “They should be able to cook your pot pie. Is it hard to get a new gel…thing?”
“No.” She smiled, oddly charmed by his lack of mechanical knowledge. “Not hard.” Holly turned the cylinder over in her hands. “Need to get the fire mitigation system back up, too.”
The gills on his neck lifted once, then settled.
“Of course. I should have realized when the lounge was filled with smoke but there were no alarms or dampening mist.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Holly, if you didn’t know this gel becomes flammable, the lounge could have…
caught fire?” His gaze lingered on her, brows furrowed.
“Yup.” Holly brushed stray hair from her face. “But don’t worry. I’ll take this to Sam for proper disposal.”
“Someone tampered with the fire mitigation and rigged your oven to catch fire.” His gills flared again. “And you’re telling me not to worry.”
“I don’t know that the fire system was tampered with,” she said firmly. “Only that it doesn’t work. And, yes, I’m telling you not to worry.” She raised one eyebrow. “You think Harry would let me use his equipment to cook my pot pie?”
Rasker’s scowl remained intact as he nodded. “I think he’d be ecstatic to let you use his equipment.”
“Good thing I don’t have a full schedule, then.
” When she’d gone into Harry’s shop a week earlier to ask him his personal thoughts on Moone’s Landing, she’d been there for hours.
He’d served her mushroom tea and delicious, sautéed lion’s mane mushrooms that tasted like crab cakes, and made her feel completely at home in his unique shop. The man was a delight.
“Okay. A visit to Harry’s Fungi Haven, then.” She retrieved the pot pie from the counter, holding the dish carefully in both hands. The filling was still warm, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Rasker held the lounge door and then the hotel door open for her, and they stepped out into the midmorning light. The square was quiet. Harry’s Fungi Haven sat across the way, its painted mushroom sign and “open” sign beckoning them.
They walked together in comfortable silence, Holly cradling her uncooked pot pie like something precious. Because it was, in a way. It represented what she was trying to build here. Warmth and welcome and the simple comfort of a good meal.
They reached the shop door, and Holly paused before he could open it, turning to him.
“Thanks,” she said. “I truly don’t believe you sabotaged my oven. You’re just the only one who wants me to fail, here.”
His eyes narrowed, but not in anger. It was more like they tightened, along with the rest of his features. “I do not want you to fail, Holly.”
“You want me to give up and sell Moone’s Landing,” she said with a knowing smile. “It’s the sole reason you’re here.”
“But why are you here?” His question was intense, as if he’d been wanting to ask it for a while.
“That’s the thing I can’t understand. You have no sentimental connection to the man you inherited it from and you stand to make a fortune if you sell it.
” He shifted closer, crowding her. She knew he wasn’t trying to intimidate her, but was trying to understand something that baffled him, so she stayed where she was, letting him into her space.
Letting his close presence flood her senses with zings of chaos.
Stars, he smelled good, like sea spray and sun-warmed wood.
“Look, I know what my client is willing to pay for this property. Work with me, Holly, and I can get you whatever you want.”
There was no missing his sincerity. It was right there, along with a twist of confusion and, unless she was completely mistaken, interest. The kind of interest that bypassed professional and stepped over into personal.
Because she was old enough to know better, she stepped back and allowed herself to feel the full-body squeeze of regret and frustration that followed. “It’s about more than nits.”
His brow furrowed and his gills flared. “What else is there for you?”
She wished she could tell him about the will.
About the fact that the more his client offered, the farther they were from getting what they wanted.
But the terms of Charles’ will were minor in comparison to the sensation that had only grown since she’d first stepped foot on this moon: she belonged here.
Thwarting Charles’ statue ambitions may have been a spark that motivated her to come here, but saving Moone’s Landing had become about reviving a place that Holly knew in her gut was worth saving.
For the people who lived here. For the people who used to live here. And for her.
She smiled at Rasker, knowing it was a sad smile.
“This place is special, Rasker.” She nodded toward the quirky mushroom sign hanging above the door.
“And so are the people. I think you know that. And I think you’re not so far gone that you know there are things more important than nits in this great, wide galaxy we live in. ”
“If that’s the case, why are you paying for a residential unit on Nova that you aren’t living in?” he challenged. “Why haven’t you officially quit Sol-Arc Industries?”
“You’re monitoring me?”
“Everyone with an interest in this location is monitoring you.” He lifted his hands, then let them fall to his sides.
“You’re still listed as an employee on Sol-Arc’s dataweb and your living unit is still registered to you.
It’s public knowledge, not espionage, and my client isn’t the only one watching. ”
Holly sighed and shifted her pot pie, which was becoming heavy.
She couldn’t name the ingredients in the soup of emotions bubbling inside her, but it made the truth fall from her lips.
“Because I may fail at reviving Moone’s Landing.
And I’m afraid to fail. Terrified of it, in fact.
” She swallowed hard and pushed on. “And if I do fail, I need to know that I have choices. Coming here was the biggest risk I’ve ever taken.
This is all new to me, and keeping a foot planted in the old life I understand is keeping me from feeling like I’m falling off a cliff. ”
“Ah.” Rasker’s expression smoothed over. “I understand a little better, now.”
“Good.” Holly nodded, feeling jittery, exposed.
Half of her wished she’d shut down his questions and walked away.
The other half was relieved to have spoken out loud to someone about what had been making a mess in her mind for weeks.
Hopefully, she hadn’t made a mistake in choosing him to be that someone.
Before anyone could say anything else, the door swung open and a short man with a shock of white hair stood in the opening.
“I cannot take it any longer,” Harry said, one hand over his heart and eyes narrowed in mock outrage.
“If you two are going to have an intense, personal conversation, have the decency to do it inside, so I can hear it. I cannot read lips, you know!” He bustled them through the door, then shut it firmly behind them.
He spread his hands and sighed with what looked like relief.
“Now, what brings you to my humble shop?”