ignite.”
“Not going to happen, Romeo,” I said to Gregory. “He’s not my type.”
“What type is that?” Owen asked.
“Not a cop.” When the laughter settled I went right back to where my thoughts had been all day. “Okay, you two, truth between us. Did Jason come to visit you for his article series?”
With a sigh, Owen said, “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope. And no prevaricating. Did Jason interview you or try to interview you?”
They exchanged a long look before Gregory finally answered. “Yes. He interviewed Owen the first visit. Since we don’t do anything with the paranormal trade, neither of us was particularly worried about what he might ask. He asked some background questions, trying to get some local color. It wasn’t any big deal.”
There was just a flicker of his eyes. Down and to the right, just for an instant before returning unflinching to meet my gaze. It was a tell. I’d play poker with Gregory any day of the week. He was lying.
“Was that the only time you spoke with him?”
“Yes, it was the only time he was here.” Again, Gregory answered for the both of them.
“Did he ever call either of you?”
Owen sighed, and I knew he’d just decided to tell me something he hadn’t wanted to.
“He called, KC. He called a couple of times. He wanted to know about food deliveries to the Were Ranch.”
“The Way They Were?” I confirmed. When they both nodded, I sat back and nibbled on another mushroom, and looked at them expectantly.
“Look, KC. All he wanted to know was how much food they ordered and how it got to the ranch. It’s a weekly order; they pick it up. No big deal. Now, let’s go eat dinner.” Gregory led the way inside.
As we sat down to a scrumptious meal of grilled salmon and artichokes, my one-track mind hit overdrive. “Who else did Jason interview?”
“Your favorite gal-pal, Susan,” Gregory answered.
I wrinkled my nose. I wouldn’t look forward to talking with her. “Anyone else? Did anyone refuse to talk with him?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know if he actually spoke to anyone at the ranch,” Owen said slowly. “Just that he wanted to. I think he was going to that new-age palmistry and crystal shop on Main. He said something at the dinner party about Vortex Infusions. And of course, he must have visited the new business by Ted Sparks.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Ted Sparks? The one that was running the sweat lodges? He’s in jail, isn’t he?”
“Yep,” said Gregory. “Awaiting trial, as they say. But, I guess he has to pay for his defense. He’s the name behind ‘The Rapture.’ It’s supposed to be a spiritual healing that uses the hidden hot springs. I guess the theory is the same as the sweat lodge. Go squeeze into a hot, over-crowded space and listen to canned messages from the leader. Come out all rosy and inspired to hand even more money over to Sparks and his people.
“Now, if you don’t mind, KC, I’d like to talk about something other than scams. So, tell me. How are you loving Juniper Springs? Any desire to go into the big city?”
We spent the rest of the evening drinking a good Pinot Noir, talking about books and movies, and offering our own expert opinions on the personal lives and styles of celebrities. When it was time to go home, I stood, stretched, and declined the offer of a ride. I walked down the path that led through their yard. Looking back at the patio as I closed the gate, I saw that Gregory had moved closer to Owen on the couch, and Owen dropped an arm over the smaller man’s shoulders. I envied their closeness. I didn’t know what it was like to feel that connection with another. It wasn’t sexual. It was comforting, supportive. I sighed and walked home, feeling the kiss of coolness hidden in the breeze.
****
Quinn was waiting when I reached the Honey House. Swell. I’d had too much to drink to spar with him. I let a bone-weary sigh carry my thoughts at having him
“Not going to happen, Romeo,” I said to Gregory. “He’s not my type.”
“What type is that?” Owen asked.
“Not a cop.” When the laughter settled I went right back to where my thoughts had been all day. “Okay, you two, truth between us. Did Jason come to visit you for his article series?”
With a sigh, Owen said, “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope. And no prevaricating. Did Jason interview you or try to interview you?”
They exchanged a long look before Gregory finally answered. “Yes. He interviewed Owen the first visit. Since we don’t do anything with the paranormal trade, neither of us was particularly worried about what he might ask. He asked some background questions, trying to get some local color. It wasn’t any big deal.”
There was just a flicker of his eyes. Down and to the right, just for an instant before returning unflinching to meet my gaze. It was a tell. I’d play poker with Gregory any day of the week. He was lying.
“Was that the only time you spoke with him?”
“Yes, it was the only time he was here.” Again, Gregory answered for the both of them.
“Did he ever call either of you?”
Owen sighed, and I knew he’d just decided to tell me something he hadn’t wanted to.
“He called, KC. He called a couple of times. He wanted to know about food deliveries to the Were Ranch.”
“The Way They Were?” I confirmed. When they both nodded, I sat back and nibbled on another mushroom, and looked at them expectantly.
“Look, KC. All he wanted to know was how much food they ordered and how it got to the ranch. It’s a weekly order; they pick it up. No big deal. Now, let’s go eat dinner.” Gregory led the way inside.
As we sat down to a scrumptious meal of grilled salmon and artichokes, my one-track mind hit overdrive. “Who else did Jason interview?”
“Your favorite gal-pal, Susan,” Gregory answered.
I wrinkled my nose. I wouldn’t look forward to talking with her. “Anyone else? Did anyone refuse to talk with him?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know if he actually spoke to anyone at the ranch,” Owen said slowly. “Just that he wanted to. I think he was going to that new-age palmistry and crystal shop on Main. He said something at the dinner party about Vortex Infusions. And of course, he must have visited the new business by Ted Sparks.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Ted Sparks? The one that was running the sweat lodges? He’s in jail, isn’t he?”
“Yep,” said Gregory. “Awaiting trial, as they say. But, I guess he has to pay for his defense. He’s the name behind ‘The Rapture.’ It’s supposed to be a spiritual healing that uses the hidden hot springs. I guess the theory is the same as the sweat lodge. Go squeeze into a hot, over-crowded space and listen to canned messages from the leader. Come out all rosy and inspired to hand even more money over to Sparks and his people.
“Now, if you don’t mind, KC, I’d like to talk about something other than scams. So, tell me. How are you loving Juniper Springs? Any desire to go into the big city?”
We spent the rest of the evening drinking a good Pinot Noir, talking about books and movies, and offering our own expert opinions on the personal lives and styles of celebrities. When it was time to go home, I stood, stretched, and declined the offer of a ride. I walked down the path that led through their yard. Looking back at the patio as I closed the gate, I saw that Gregory had moved closer to Owen on the couch, and Owen dropped an arm over the smaller man’s shoulders. I envied their closeness. I didn’t know what it was like to feel that connection with another. It wasn’t sexual. It was comforting, supportive. I sighed and walked home, feeling the kiss of coolness hidden in the breeze.
****
Quinn was waiting when I reached the Honey House. Swell. I’d had too much to drink to spar with him. I let a bone-weary sigh carry my thoughts at having him
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