The Spring At Moss Hill

Nice.

It’d do for his short stay. He’d done worse in his day. Much worse.

Did Kylie Shaw like being isolated? Was that what he was sensing with her caginess—it had more to do with his intrusion into her space? Moss Hill had only been open a matter of weeks. Where had she lived before here?

Lots of questions, likely none of which had anything to do with Daphne’s upcoming visit.

He checked the kitchen. As promised, Ruby O’Dunn had stocked the pantry and refrigerator with essentials. The place was mopped, vacuumed and dusted, and there were clean sheets on the bed and fresh towels in the bathroom.

“All good,” Russ said, fetching his duffel bag. He set it on the queen-size bed. He hadn’t expected to feel at home the first second he walked into the place, but he did.

He returned to the main room and stood at the windows. It was a good drop to the river. He could see two ducks cruising in the reeds on the riverbank. He wondered if there’d be ducklings soon. Across the river, fields, turning green with the arrival of spring, rose up to a white farmhouse with a dark-wood barn.

Russ fought a yawn. This was a beautiful spot—better than he’d expected—but he was here to do a job, not to admire the view. Julius and Daphne—and to a degree, Loretta—had supplied him with the basics about Knights Bridge, but he didn’t need to know anything that didn’t involve his reasons for being here. He did not need to know town gossip. Who was sleeping with whom, who was looking for work, who was in rehab. Not his concern.

Was finding out more about his neighbor across the hall part of his job or a diversion?

Could be both. Kylie Shaw was on the premises where Daphne would be speaking in a few days, and she had pretty blue eyes. Not scary at all.

A quick shower, a change of clothes and more coffee, and he was back out the door. He decided to check out the riverside—where Kylie had run when she’d spotted him—and descended the stairs to the ground-level garage, then headed outside. He followed a walk to an overlook a few feet above the dam.

He leaned over the black-metal rail and watched the water rush over the solid, old dam, creating a misting spray as it tumbled onto the giant boulders. He got a bit wet but didn’t mind. The temperature probably felt warm to the locals after the long New England winter, but to him it was refreshingly cool, not cold but not warm, either.

He was in no hurry as he returned to his apartment. He had nothing planned for the day. He’d figured he’d see what was what when he got here and go from there. He could have taken a later flight or spent the day in Boston, but this was fine.

As he started to unpack his duffel bag, Ruby O’Dunn texted him. He’d emailed her his number before he’d boarded his flight but hadn’t followed up when he’d landed in Boston, given the early hour. He glanced at her text. Welcome! Settled at Moss Hill?

He typed his answer. All set.

A bunch of us are getting together for lunch. Join us?

Where?

Smith’s off the common in 30 minutes.

Will do.

I’ve invited Kylie Shaw across the hall from you. She’ll know the way.

Ruby typed faster than he did. Ok.

See you soon.

Russ slid his phone back in his jacket pocket. Were Ruby and Kylie friends? Had to be. Otherwise why invite her to lunch?

Maybe his instincts were off, and Kylie Shaw wasn’t trying to keep to herself.

Might as well check with her. He walked across the hall and knocked on her door.

She looked thunderstruck when she opened up. She only cracked the door, as if she didn’t want him to see the place was a mess. “I’m...um... You’re here about lunch.” She gave a vague wave with a slender hand. “Ruby texted me.”

“I didn’t realize you two were friends.”

“We’re not. I mean...” Kylie bit her lower lip. “I don’t know anyone in town that well.”

“But you’re going to lunch?” Russ tried to make it sound like a genuine question and not an order. But he wanted her to go to lunch. Her behavior was borderline unusual. “I was on a plane all night. It’d be great to have someone else drive.”

“You don’t look jet-lagged.”

“Trust me. I am.” True, maybe, but he’d be fine to drive. “Yours is the Mini, I gather. Clever private eye that I am, I figure it has to be since it’s the only other car in the parking lot.”

Kylie nodded without enthusiasm. No smile at his humor. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Give me five minutes.”

To what? Gulp? Do yoga breaths? Russ shrugged. “Okay.”

“Five minutes.”

She shut the door.

Russ went back to his apartment and got his car key in case Kylie changed her mind, and he had to drive into town. But he would bet she wouldn’t change her mind. Something about lunch both intrigued and rattled her.

It was early but not too early in California. He texted Julius: I’m about to have lunch at Smith’s.

Order the turkey club. Don’t go near the salads.

No update?

Quiet here. Why?

Later.

* * *

Russ headed downstairs and out to the Mini, a cream color underneath the dried mud and dust. Of course it was unlocked. He opened the door to let in some spring air while he waited.

Kylie joined him. She was in the same outfit she’d had on earlier, but she’d changed out of her orange-laced shoes into black ankle boots. It wasn’t the sort of thing he normally noticed, but the laces had been tough to miss. She gave him a tight smile. “All set.”

She might have been going on a secret mission behind enemy lines.

“I noticed your car is as muddy as your bike.”

“There’s a thing here called mud season. It just ended. I haven’t had a chance to clean my bike and car since then.” She pushed a palm through her pale hair, then gave him a forced smile.

Russ slid into the passenger seat while she went around the hood to the driver’s side. It was a little car. His left thigh almost touched her right thigh. He thought she noticed. It wasn’t an obvious giveaway, just a slight shift toward her door as she started the engine. “I’m not used to having anyone in the car with me,” she said. “Last one in the passenger seat was a dog.”

“A big dog?”

“Not as big as you.”

“That would be a hell of a big dog.”

“It was a chocolate Lab that had run off from the Sloan farmhouse about a mile away. I found him rolling in the mud on the riverbank.”

“Mud seems to be a theme in your life. I’m glad I don’t scare you anymore.”

“You wouldn’t have scared me to begin with if I’d seen the palm trees on your shirt.”

“You noticed them? The observant artist. My palm trees aren’t intimidating?”

She smiled. “Not by themselves.”

“Need the rest of me, huh?” He thought he saw color in her face, but the light shifted as they continued down the road. “The shirt’s new. A gift from my brother.”

“To remind you that you’re an outsider here?”

“Trust me, I don’t need reminding.” He pointed out his window. “Was that Moss Hill back there, across from the mill? Are there hiking trails?”

“Yes, and yes. I was on one of the trails this morning.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“No dog?”

“No dog.”

“If I lived way the hell out here all by myself, I’d have a dog. In fact, I’d have two dogs. Maybe a couple of goldfish, too, although they aren’t much good in a fight.”

“Do you have a dog in Beverly Hills?”

He shook his head. “No dog, and I don’t live in Beverly Hills,” he said, leaving it at that. “How long have you lived at Moss Hill?”

“Since mid-March.”

“Before that?”

“I rented a house up the road.”

“But you’re not from Knights Bridge.”

“I moved to town last summer.” There was a slight testiness to her voice, as if she’d told him only because she knew he’d ask. “Are you from Beverly Hills?”

“Nope. Army brat. I joined the navy. I’ve been out two years.”

“Thank you for your service,” Kylie said quietly.

Russ hadn’t expected that from her. He didn’t know why. “It’s a privilege to serve,” he said. “Where did you live before Knights Bridge?”

“All over.”

Vague answer. He watched her drive, one hand on the wheel, the other on the shifter. She wasn’t tentative so much as tense. Not used to men? Not used to lunch? Didn’t like Ruby O’Dunn? He wanted answers, but he didn’t want to pepper her with too many questions. He was at her mercy. Imagine if she dumped him on the side of the road.

“Are there bears here?” he asked.

“Black bears.”

He settled back in his seat. “I’m not big on bears.”

She glanced at him as if she were trying to figure out if he was serious. But she turned, eyes on the road. “Do you know who all will be at lunch?”

“You, me, Ruby. I don’t know who else, if anyone. Why? Do you have enemies in town?”

“Just curious,” she said, and pointed to more ducks in the river.

Russ figured he had ten minutes, tops, to pull himself together before he got sucked into some small-town nonsense that had nothing to do with Daphne—or Noah Kendrick and Dylan McCaffrey. It was jet lag. Boredom. Curiosity.

His neighbor’s pretty blue eyes, her slender hands, the curve of her breasts under her purple sweater.

He hadn’t had a woman in his life in far too long.

The jet lag, boredom and curiosity made him vulnerable to doing something really stupid.

And he wasn’t paid to be stupid.

“Did I lose you?” he asked.

“Sorry. My mind wandered off.”

“You know you’re driving, right?”

“It didn’t wander off like that. I’m paying attention to the road.” She smiled at him. “No worries.”

He begged to differ, but he said nothing. If Kylie and Ruby weren’t friends, why lunch? Could be a simple question of politeness. He fought back a yawn, debating whether to watch the picturesque scenery or the attractive, intriguing driver. Finally he decided he could do both.

Six

Smith’s was located in a 1920s house that had been converted into a restaurant, around the corner from the country store. Kylie had dined there a number of times, alone, tucked in a booth with her sketch pad. At first, she hadn’t thought much about socializing with the people of her adopted town. She was here temporarily, as an artistic retreat—to work, not to hang out with the locals. She liked people. She liked being around people. But that wasn’t why she was in Knights Bridge. When she’d moved into Moss Hill and started to consider making the town home, she’d figured friends and socializing would come in due time—when she had more head space for them and allowed herself out of the retreat mind-set.

And there was Morwenna.

Would Russ Colton want to know about Morwenna Mills? Why would he care?

Because he’s the type who cares about every detail.

Morwenna was a big detail, if not one that had any bearing on Daphne Stewart’s master class on Saturday.

Russ followed Kylie into the restaurant. Ruby O’Dunn jumped up from a long table in the back of the eatery, greeting Russ as if they were old friends. She introduced him to Mark Flanagan and his wife, Jessica, who were also at the table, joining them for lunch.

Mark smiled at Kylie. He was a tall, lean man in his thirties, an architect who specialized in older buildings. He wore a black windbreaker, a dark gray flannel shirt and jeans, his usual outfit. “Glad you could make it,” he said.

She had the distinct impression he hadn’t expected her to accept Ruby’s invitation. There’d been something imperious about the text, and Kylie had suspected declining would cause her more problems than accepting. The faint feeling she’d done something wrong lingered, even with the warm greetings. Had Russ told Ruby about their meeting at Moss Hill—how Kylie had run from him? She gave herself a mental shake. She was overthinking.

She was hungry—maybe she just needed food. Regardless, she had to settle down.

Mark returned to his seat next to his wife. Dark-haired and green-eyed, Jessica was a Frost, one of the longtime families in town. She wore jeans and a flannel shirt but also a silver Celtic-knot necklace that Kylie suspected Mark had given her. Mark and Jess had known each other forever, but they were newlyweds, married last fall at her sister’s inn in town.

“Moss Hill is great,” Russ said, sitting next to Kylie and across from Ruby. “Thanks for putting me up there.”

“I keep thinking we need to come up with a name for the meeting space,” Jess said. “‘Meeting space’ is too bland. I’m looking forward to Daphne’s class. I know zip about costume design, so I won’t be one of the students and experts in attendance.”

“We want to make sure we have at least fifty people,” Ruby said. “Ava thinks we’ll get closer to seventy.”

Mark shook his head. “It won’t be that many.”

He was a cut-to-the-chase type, Kylie knew from previous encounters with him. From what she’d seen of Russ Colton so far, she suspected the two of them would get along well. She’d always had the feeling that Mark and Jess looked out for her, alone up the road in her rented house and now at Moss Hill.

The waitress arrived at their table, and they put in their orders—turkey clubs for Mark and Russ, the tuna melt for Ruby and the house-made broccoli-cheddar soup for both Jess and Kylie. Kylie didn’t trust herself to dive into a club sandwich, given how self-conscious and keyed up she was. It wasn’t just having a private investigator at Moss Hill or the unusual lunch. It was being around this many people at all. She was out of practice.

“Ava will be here on Friday,” Ruby said. “She’s as excited as I am, but she couldn’t get away from school. A bunch of her theater friends are coming up from New York to see Daphne. Same with my friends in Boston.”

“Are they staying in the area?” Russ asked.

“Some. Not many options here in town, but plenty within an easy drive. But we timed the class so people could make it a day trip from New York or Boston. A longer one from New York, obviously, but doable.” Ruby seemed unable to sit still, a bundle of raw energy and nerves. “We are thrilled to have Daphne here. We loved getting to know her better over the winter. I’m dying to see Hollywood and where she lives. She says Ava and I have a standing invitation to visit, but I don’t know if she’s just being polite.”

“If she said it, she meant it,” Russ said, nothing casual about him as he watched Ruby fidget and squirm.

Ruby turned to Mark. “How’s everything at Moss Hill?”

“Fine. Why?”

But she swung around to Russ. “No problems with your apartment?”

His eyes narrowed on her. “None.”

“That’s good,” Ruby said half under her breath. “Good, good.”

Jess, seated at the far end of the table, leaned forward. “Is something on your mind, Ruby?”

She didn’t respond at once. She took a breath and fixed her gaze on Russ. “We could have a situation brewing with Saturday.”

Kylie went still. Was this why she was invited to lunch? She felt a subtle change in Russ as he studied Ruby. “What kind of situation?” he asked.

“Problems with codes, permits, fire extinguishers. I don’t know. Not my area of expertise.”

“Problems at Moss Hill, you mean?” Jess asked, clearly shocked.

Ruby nodded. “My mother says someone is spreading rumors around town about possible safety violations and cut corners.”

Mark bristled visibly. “There are no problems at Moss Hill.”

Jess gasped. “Who is spreading these rumors? Has anyone said anything directly to your mother?”

“You know Mom,” Ruby said. “If a blade of grass has a complaint about a lawn mower, she’ll hear about it. She’s tuned in to town gossip. This will be the first event at the mill. All we need is some crank causing trouble. Ava and I aren’t professional meeting planners, but we’ve done everything possible to dot every i and cross every t. Mark, are you sure—”

“I’m sure,” he said stiffly. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“What if a contractor cut a corner you don’t know about?”

Jess touched Ruby’s shoulder. “You’re getting spooled up.”

“I know. I am. I’ve been stewing since Mom told me about the rumors last night. I’m worried someone’s trying to sabotage us.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Jess asked.

“Because people can be jerks,” Ruby snapped.

Kylie said nothing. Russ Colton hadn’t said a word since his initial question to Ruby, either. The meals arrived. Ruby looked as if she regretted ordering a sandwich. Jess snatched two fries off Mark’s plate before trying her soup. Kylie hadn’t expected the conversation to turn to news of unpleasant rumors. Was that why Ruby had invited her to lunch? But Kylie couldn’t see how she could help unravel what, if anything, was going on.

Ruby stared at her sandwich. “What if someone doesn’t want Daphne here—or just doesn’t want Moss Hill to host events?”

Mark lifted a triangle of his club sandwich. “A mixed-purpose space was always in the plans for Moss Hill. It’s no surprise to anyone we’ll be hosting a variety of events there. As far as I can see, people are excited about having that kind of space in town. There have been no problems or complaints.”

“Not everyone is excited, obviously,” Ruby said. “My mother says she has no idea who is behind the rumors.”

“Is this sort of talk unusual around here?” Russ asked.

“Knights Bridge is a small town,” Mark said. “People talk. They have their grudges. But nasty rumors like this? I’d say it’s unusual.”

Ruby seemed to make an effort to try a small bite of her sandwich. “I haven’t lived here full-time since I started college, but I can’t think of anyone who would want to sabotage a class by a Hollywood icon who’s donating her time...” She put down her sandwich and sank against the back of her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t sleep at all last night. I’m steamed, obviously, but I’m also this close to totally freaking out.”

“Just because something is annoying doesn’t mean it’s problematic,” Jess said.

Mark nodded. “I promise you, Ruby. These rumors are completely unfounded.”

Kylie tried her soup. It was thick, creamy and cheesy, with chunks of fresh broccoli. She understood now why Ruby’s text had struck her as off. Ruby had arranged lunch to reassure herself nothing was wrong at Moss Hill that could jeopardize Daphne Stewart’s appearance in Knights Bridge. Kylie lived there. It made sense to invite her to lunch in case she’d heard or seen anything that might indicate trouble for Saturday.

Russ finished a triangle of his sandwich and wiped his fingers on a napkin as he studied Ruby. “Do the rumors include Daphne or just Moss Hill?”

“Concern about Daphne and the people attending the master class.”

“What kind of concern?” Russ asked.

Ruby sniffled, calmer. “That there’ll be an accident, and people will get hurt because of the cut corners or bought-off contractors or inspectors. Whatever.”

Mark sucked in a breath. He seemed to take her high emotions in stride but clearly wasn’t pleased with this development. His wife of less than a year was pensive. “Who’s on your short list of possible jerks who could spread such a stupid rumor?” Jess asked.

“No one,” Ruby said. “I haven’t heard anything negative about Daphne’s class. I don’t want these rumors to take on a life of their own. I hope I’m not making things worse by mentioning them.”

“I’d rather have you speak up than keep this to yourself,” Mark said.

“Christopher Sloan said he’d stop by Moss Hill and talk to you.”

“Anytime.” Mark turned to Russ. “Feel free to join us.”

Russ gave a curt nod. “Thanks.”

“I just need reassurance,” Ruby said. “I know ten-to-one this is small-town grumping and griping, creating drama where there is none—someone looking for attention. You know, the arsonist who sets a fire and then sits back and watches the flames.”

Jess dipped her spoon into her soup. “In this case, the fire won’t catch and spread because there’s nothing to feed it. There are no problems at Moss Hill.”

Kylie glanced at Russ, but his expression hadn’t changed. His deep blue eyes settled on her. “What about you, Kylie? Have you heard any rumors?”

She ignored his undertone of suspicion, assuming it came with the territory of being an investigator. She shook her head. “No, but I doubt I would. I didn’t know about this class until yesterday.”

“Kylie keeps to herself,” Ruby said, the slightest edge to her voice, if only because she was so agitated. “The artist at work. Deadlines. Am I right, Kylie?”

“Fortunately, yes,” she said, forcing a smile and seeing no need to explain further.

Ruby clearly wasn’t satisfied. “If you like your solitude and need it for your work, why move into Moss Hill? You had to know you wouldn’t have the place to yourself. The apartments and offices would get rented, the meeting space would get booked and you’d run into Mark’s staff, groundskeepers, cleaners, security guards—all sorts.”

Kylie decided she’d had enough of her soup. “In a way, the activity at Moss Hill is one of its attractions after my months on my own up the road. My apartment is quiet. I can be removed from the activity around me whenever I need to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruby blurted. “I didn’t mean to put you on the defensive. I sound like such a bitch. I’m really on edge, I guess. I want everything to be perfect on Saturday. I’m sure there’s nothing to these rumors. Kylie, you’re welcome to come to the class. You and Daphne probably have a lot in common.”

“Thanks,” Kylie said. “I’d like that.”

“Are you on a tight deadline?” Jess asked.

“Not at the moment.” Kylie didn’t explain further. She appreciated the change in subject, but not to that particular subject. “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow. April showers bring May flowers, though, right?”

Russ picked up his coffee. “So they say.”

Kylie sensed he was aware she’d been borderline desperate to keep the subject from shifting to her work. Fortunately, the weather was ever a source of interest in New England, and everyone else at the table seemed relieved to move on from talk of Moss Hill and Daphne Stewart. Jess mentioned that it didn’t rain much in Southern California, and the rest of the lunch passed amicably and innocuously. By the time they considered dessert, Ruby was calmer, if still bothered by the rumors. Kylie was under no illusions that Mark Flanagan had dismissed them, either—and she knew Russ Colton hadn’t. Not a chance.

* * *

Russ Colton was riding back to Moss Hill with her. Kylie adjusted to this fact as she got in her car with him. She’d thought Mark or Ruby might give him a ride, or he’d want to take a walk in the village and check it out, stretch his legs after his long overnight flight, then find his own way back—but none of that had happened.

He strapped his seat belt on next to her in the little car. He oozed masculine confidence, but it didn’t strike Kylie as deliberate. It was natural. A part of who he was. Over lunch, she’d tried to assess him as an objective observer. He wouldn’t do for Cinderella’s or Snow White’s prince. Maybe a Badger. She could take part of his last name. Colt Badger, PI.

Now that could be fun.

She pulled onto the side street where Smith’s was located and came to the intersection with Main Street, aware of her passenger’s dark blue eyes on her. “You don’t seem peeved at Ruby O’Dunn for implying you could be the one spreading rumors about Moss Hill,” he said.

“I didn’t take her comments that way. She’s just nervous about Saturday.”

Russ didn’t respond right away. “I get the impression people around here have you pegged as a reclusive, eccentric artist. Are you?”

She eased the car onto Main Street. “I just had lunch with four people. I didn’t tell you to find your own way to town. That’s not being reclusive.”

“We are here in your little car together, that’s true. Self-interest at work? Did you suck it up and go to lunch so you could find out more information about what’s going on at Moss Hill this week, with Daphne arriving and me here?”