I can’t keep them out of the stuff.”
“I was hoping you’d show me around. The barn, the production shed, and maybe even the cheese cave if you think you’ll be selling the aged stuff sooner or later?” She took another long, deep breath. The place was hypnotic. She could feel the stress leaving her.
“Maybe someday.” His voice choked on the words. “I told your grandmother if I was ever going to share my secret, it would have to be with her. Since she’s gone, I guess it will have to be with her kin. I’ve kept that promise for over twenty years now. We can wait a few more months before I let you go inside.”
“The cheese cave? Is that what you’re talking about?” Angie didn’t sit up or open her eyes. The more she got him talking, the more she’d find out about him and his relationship to Nona.
“Secrets are meant to be kept, little girl.” He chuckled as he unwrapped a second cupcake. Angie could hear the cellophane wrapper crunching. She turned and looked at him before he spoke again. “You mark my words, nothing good comes of a leaked secret.”
A car pulled into the driveway and Reana Whiting waved from the driver’s seat. Angie sat up, wondering why the realtor who sold her the building for the restaurant would be out here on a Sunday morning. “That’s Reana. I wonder what she’s doing out here?”
“Must be the first of the month, if the gold digger’s here. She comes by once a month or so to give me an update on who wants to buy my land and for how much. I swear, I can see money signs in her eyes as she explains the offers.” He put his wrapper back in the box.
“I didn’t realize your place was up for sale.” She glanced around at the wide expanse of land. She could see either a group of overpriced condos hugging the cliff area and maybe some larger estate homes dotting the landscape. People would pay big for this view, even if it was a good forty-five minutes from Boise.
“It’s not. And I’ve told her that over and over.” Old Man Moss winked. “I think the girl’s gone a little sweet on me. She brings me out homemade cookies when she comes.”
Dom barked at the newcomer and Angie held on to his leash. “I guess we’ll be going then. Maybe I can come back and visit sometime soon?”
“I hope so. At least I know what you want, not like her or that no good nephew of mine.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to bore you with my family troubles. I know Margaret said you had your own tragedies in your life. And yes, I’ll sell you as much cheese as you want to buy, so just call me and leave a message with your order on my answering machine. We’ll deliver each Saturday to your shop.”
“I appreciate it. I do still want to do a tour of your place soon. As a farm-to-table chef, I like to know where my product is coming from.” Angie stood and gathered the coffee carafe into her bag. “And I’d really like to see your cheese cave.”
Old Man Moss shook his head. “You aren’t going into the cave. Not yet. Didn’t you listen when I said it was where the secrets stay? I’ll show you the barn processing plant, that’s the only cheese they’ll let me sell anyway.”
Angie blew out a breath. She wasn’t going to change his mind. At least she wouldn’t without a bribe that probably included a whole truckload of the individually wrapped cupcakes. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she began.
“Then don’t bring it up again. I don’t see what the big deal about my cave is. Last month, someone snuck into it and made a mess of things.” He didn’t get up from the wooden chair. “Come by next Sunday and I’ll take you on a tour of the place. We might even hike down to the river if you’re up for the walk.”
Angie hitched her tote onto her shoulder, unable to keep the smile from curving her lips. “That would be nice. I hope you enjoy the bread.” She stepped away from the chairs and met up with the realtor as she slowly approached, her gait uneven on the dirt driveway in her platform heels. “Hey Reana, didn’t know I’d see you this morning.”
“Gerald and I are old friends.” Reana leaned down to Dom and cradled his chin. “Nice to see you again too, big boy.”
Dom’s tail wagged so hard he almost pulled his leash out of Angie’s hand. She tightened her grip and aimed Dom toward the car and away from the expensive suit before he could leave paw prints on Reana’s pants. “I’ve got to get back to town. I have a lot to do before opening.”
As she started up the car, she watched Reana and Gerald Moss greet each other. There was a tinge of familiarity in the way the two hugged, not quite friends and especially not lovers. But something. “None of our business, right Dom?”
She backed out of the driveway and turned back on the narrow dirt road that would lead her back to the highway. Precious stood at the edge of the property and watched her go. At least she’d gotten the goat’s blessing. Now, she just needed to sweet talk Ian into letting her source her foods supplies from his bank of farmers. Then she’d be able to finalize the menu, pull off her first family tasting meal for the staff, and actually make opening night, which was less than three weeks away.
“That’s all,” she said as she adjusted her rearview mirror to make sure the goat wasn’t following. She’d hate to let her good luck charm out and have her become road kill her first week on earth.
* * * *
Monday morning, she was deep into making some strawberry jam when a knock came on her kitchen door. Wiping her hands on a towel, she looked out the window over the sink. A large new Ram truck sat in her driveway next to what appeared to be a police cruiser. Her gut twisted. Felicia must have gotten hurt on her trip to the local festival. She hadn’t texted last night and Angie had been giving her some time before she called. A car accident? Or maybe something at the festival? Or someone? She squared her shoulders and went to open the door. As she’d expected, a police officer stood in his uniform next to Ian McNeal. What in the world was he doing here?
“Miss Turner? I’m Sheriff Allen Brown. I understand you’ve already met Mr. McNeal here?” The sheriff nodded to Ian, but neither man met Angie’s gaze.
“I have. What’s going on? Did something happen to Felicia? Or the restaurant?” Oh God, maybe the building burned down. Or the guy working in the restaurant had been hurt. Had she paid the insurance on time this month? If she got sued without even opening The County Seat’s doors, she’d never dig out of the legal costs.
“Can we come in?” The sheriff took off his wide brimmed hand and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the sweat beads off his too wide and too tall forehead. “It’s mighty hot already. I think summer’s going to be a scorcher.”
“Of course, I’m sorry, come on in.” She pointed to the dining room table where her jars were set up for the jam that bubbled on the stove. She looked around the room and said the obvious. “I’m making jam.”
“My mama used to make strawberry jam every summer. I loved that stuff.” The sheriff didn’t sit, standing near the door with his hat in his hand. “Look, ma’am, I hate to do this, but I need to ask you some questions.”
“About?”
The sheriff looked at Ian who raised his eyebrows and nodded. “I need to know if you met with Old Man, I mean, Gerald Moss yesterday.”
“Yes. I wanted to set him up as a vendor for the restaurant. He invited me over Sunday morning for an early breakfast to talk about
