Bones and Brew Read online

  “Do they know you’re coming?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to contact them until after we met and spent some time together.”

  “So what’s the deal with prying into our business?”

  “I have a marketing degree and lots of experience. I want to give back to the Universe.” She jerked up her shoulders. “I thought there’s no better place to start lending a helping hand than with next of kin.”

  Porter shot her a you-don’t-expect-me-to-be-believe-that look.

  Oh, snickerdoodles. Sweat trickled from her armpits, snaking down her side and moistening the waistband of her jeans.

  He pulled off the paved road onto a dirt road.

  She poked her head forward and squinted. Surely that rundown shack wasn’t where Porter lived? “Uh, where are we going?” A hint of nervousness escaped her voice.

  “This is home.” He drew an oval in the air with his finger. “I own this side of the mountain. My sons, their women and children, and I live here.”

  Grown men living in squalor was one thing. But women and children? Dorothy couldn’t wrap her head around it.

  “We call it the Barr Ranch,” Porter said with an air of pride.

  Dorothy’s mouth gaped. More like Shantytown Ranch. What a mess!

  “Each of my boys has his own cabin and acreage. We have a special place set up for you behind my house and close to the trail.” He lobbed a sly grin at her that crawled her skin.

  “Oh, uh, how nice. Thank you.”

  Porter pulled up to a two-story log cabin with faded blue plastic tarps and old tires on the roof. A gangly man with a long strawberry blonde beard strolled out the front door, if she dared call the hinged slab of weathered plywood with a piece of rope for a doorknob a door.

  “That’s Preston, my eldest. He’ll show you around and take you to your cabin.”

  Oh, snickerdoodles. A bad feeling came over Dorothy. She swallowed a dry gulp. Who were these people and what had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter Five

  After the Tour

  “Thanks for the tour, Preston. I love the peace and quiet.” Dot stood at the door of the guest cabin, which looked more like a saltbox shed one would keep in the backyard to store a lawn mower. “You guys sure live in a remote location.” She inhaled a deep breath of pine-scented air and gazed around. “Do you get many hikers coming through?”

  “Nope.”

  “On the drive up here, I didn’t notice any power lines. How do you get—”

  “We have generators.”

  “Oh.” She bunched up her brows and cocked her ear toward the sky, listening. “I don’t hear anything. Generators are noisy. You must have them well insulated.”

  “There’s no sound because they’re solar.”

  “That’s high-tech…” she cringed at the overtone of judgment in her voice. “I-I mean, I didn’t know they made solar generators powerful enough to run a whole house, er, cabin … and your brewery.”

  “My brothers and I engineered them to suit our needs.”

  Engineered them? “Oh, wow.” Her jaw dropped. She tapped her hand over her chest, unable to conceal her surprise. “I didn’t know you and your brothers were so handy.”

  “There’s a lot about us you don’t know.”

  “No argument here.” She dusted her fingertips over the brim of her California Raisin ball cap. “So how about you enlighten me.”

  “Enlighten you?”

  “We could start with the brewery. I’m hoping you’ll show me where it’s located, give me a tour of the facility, and tell me about the special ingredients that make your beers so unique.” She flashed her best smile. “You know, all the details so I can help expand your business.”

  He tipped his chin down and peered over the top of the dark lenses of his Oakley sunglasses. “Expand our business?”

  “Like I told your dad, I have a lot of experience in marketing. I could take Barr Beer national. Put your bottled brew in every grocery store, convenience store, and gas station east of the Mississippi.”

  “Not interested.”

  “That’s what your dad said.”

  “Then you have your answer, don’t you?”

  She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Do you do much hunting? You know, during deer and elk season?”

  Preston pointed at the woods ahead. “If you know the shortcuts and walk at a pretty good clip, you can reach the lake in about five minutes. Otherwise, following the trail will triple that time.”

  I can play this change-the-subject game too. “I’m curious. What’s in the back of your dad’s pickup that’s so heavy?”

  Preston nestled his sunglasses amongst the wavy locks on top of his head and rested his hand on his hips. “You sure ask a lot of questions for a guest.” He looked her up and down. “Where are your manners? Don’t you know snooping into another’s business is not only rude but can be dangerous?”

  Dangerous? Was that a threat? “I-I apologize. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just curious and wanted to get to know my relatives a little better. That’s all.”

  He hiked a brow and gazed at her, his suspicion obvious. “Well, just because we live off-the-grid doesn’t mean we’re the backwoods hicks you plainly think we are. My brothers and I hold bachelor’s degrees.”

  “Oh, uh, that’s wonderful—”

  “Don’t you mean surprising?”

  Busted. “No.” She shook her head but knew it came across insincere. “Your dad said something about Lou renting cabins. Where are they?”

  “On the other side of the lake. It’s private property and gated. I don’t know what it’s like where you’re from, but we respect our neighbor’s privacy and property around here.”

  Dorothy’s mind whirled. Only people who had something to hide were that uptight. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll take a walk around the lake and do a little exploring.”

  “Explore at your own risk.”

  Another threat? “May I have your cell phone number in case I get lost?”

  “No.”

  She jerked her chin back. “No?”

  “Wouldn’t do any good. There’s no reception around the lake.”

  No cell phone reception? Oh, snickerdoodles. She noted the time on her wristwatch. “What time should I be back?” She chuckled, adding, “You know, before you organize a search party to find me?”

  “Dinner’s at Dad’s tonight. We say grace at six.” Preston turned and walked back toward the cabins. Hospitality not the Barr’s strong suit.

  Dorothy watched Preston vanish into the woods. Once out of sight, “Time to get to work,” she muttered.

  Chapter Six

  Spy on the Spy

  Preston strolled back toward his father’s cabin. When out of Dorothy’s sight, he backtracked to where he left her and stepped off the trail. Concealing himself within the thick greenery of the forest, he hunkered down low and watched.

  Dorothy stopped in a clearing and looked around, appearing to survey the area to ensure she was alone.

  “What are you up to?” he wondered under his breath.

  She opened the black leather fanny pack around her waist and pulled out a cell phone.

  He smirked. “Told you there was no reception out here.” To his surprise, she didn’t use the device as a telephone, but as a voice recorder.

  Holding the phone close to her lips, she spoke into it.

  Preston strained to hear what she was saying, but couldn’t make out the words.

  Hyrum crept up behind his brother. He tipped his head toward Dorothy and whispered, “So, what do you think?”

  “Dad was right.” Preston jutted his chin out and stroked his strawberry blonde beard. “There’s something shady about Dot. She asked a lot of questions that boiled down to probing for information about our brewery.”

  “Did she say why?” Hyrum parked his black sunglasses on top of his head.

  “Claimed she talked to Dad abou
t expanding the business.”

  “What?” Hyrum flicked his head back slightly. “Dad never mentioned anything about involving her.”

  “Precisely.” Preston scowled. “And get this, Dot asked me what was in the back of Dad’s truck.”

  “That means Dad didn’t tell her and doesn’t want her to know our plans.” Hyrum curled his lip into a snarl. “That Tennessee tart’s on a fishing expedition.”

  Preston tilted his head, mentally stacking up the damming evidence against Dot. “The million-dollar questions are: What is she looking for and why?”

  Dorothy suddenly turned her head in their direction, ceased recording, and stared into the woods.

  The brothers froze.

  Seconds later, she resumed recording. Walking while talking, she headed for the shoreline. Every few feet, she would extend her arm above her head and hold her cell phone up, seeking signal strength bars.

  After several attempts and obviously finding no connection, she removed her California Raisin cap. Holding the cap close to her chest, she scanned the woods, looking in all directions.

  Preston and Hyrum exchanged glances of puzzlement.

  Dorothy lowered the cap from her chest, turned the hat upside down, and reached inside.

  The distinctive noise of a hook and loop fastener being ripped apart revealed she was extracting something stashed in the trucker-style ball cap.

  It only took seconds for Preston to recognize she had pulled another phone out of her hat. But it wasn’t the ordinary cell phone one could purchase at a discount department store. His stomach dropped. “That’s a satellite phone.”

  The brothers observed her extending an antenna, dialing a number, and plastering the phone against her ear.

  “Satellite phones are expensive.” Hyrum mashed up his face. “Why would she have a satellite phone, and why would she hide it in her hat?”

  “Duh.” Preston narrowed his eyes at his youngest brother. “Because our dear cousin is a government spy.”

  Hyrum paled.

  “We have to stop her. Go out on the trail and act like you happened to cross paths with her.”

  “What will I say?”

  “Tell her you’re looking for wild blackberries.”

  “They won’t be ripe for another two weeks.”

  Preston grinned. “You know that. I know that. But she doesn’t know that.”

  Chapter Seven

  Picnic at the Lake

  “Stay close,” Louise told Ben as she unbuckled his leash.

  The dog leaped from the backseat and proceeded to explore the weeds around Jason’s truck. He paused at the rear tire, lifted his leg, and relieved himself.

  “Gee, thanks, Ben,” Jason said with a truncated laugh. “I guess it’s official now that Ben’s baptized my truck.”

  “I’m sorry, Jason.” Louise dipped her chin toward her chest and covered her face with both hands.

  “Don’t be. Ben’s just staking his claim to my truck, right?” He opened the tailgate, leaned his butt against it, and patted the space next to him.

  Louise pushed herself up onto the tailgate and sat next to Jason. “I hope he doesn’t make that a habit like he has with the memorial Preacher Timothy carved for Tom. Without fail, the first thing he does when we walk to the bench is urinate on that plaque.”

  “When you gotta go, you gotta go,” Jason joked.

  “True, but Ben’s obsessed with that plaque. He was about six-months-old when he realized his sexuality. That plaque was the first thing he lifted his leg on.”

  “Sentimental value?”

  “Or he somehow knows Preacher Timothy made it and urinates on it because he doesn’t like the man.”

  “Ben doesn’t like Tim?”

  “Never has,” she answered, shaking her head. “Maybe Ben senses the preacher isn’t a dog person.”

  “Dogs are intuitive. Personally, I never cared much for Tim myself. My gut tells me there’s a well-concealed dark side to him. Or maybe my disliking him has to do with the criminal acts his sons committed in our town over the years.” Jason cocked a brow and jerked up one shoulder. “You know what they say, the apple never falls far from the tree.”

  “True, but there are plenty of good parents whose children end up committing horrible crimes,” Louise countered, unsure why she felt the need to defend the town’s preacher. Perhaps because he and his wife worked for her.

  “I hope Ben marking my truck tire isn’t a sign he considers me another Tim Morrow.”

  “No-no-no.” Louise rapidly waved her hands back and forth in front of her face. “Ben loves you, I dare say as much as he loves his Uncle Milt.”

  “Does he urinate on Milt’s truck tires too?”

  “I’ve never seen him do it, but that means nothing,” Louise answered with a grin.

  “Martha had her dachshund, Winnie. And I grew up with dogs. But come to think of it, they were all females.” He flicked his hands up in the air. “So I have no idea how the male canine psyche works.”

  “It’s theorized that dogs mark territory with their urine not only to stake claim to an area and share the latest canine news, but to assert their alpha status.”

  “Alpha status, huh?” He drew back his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “Does that mean if I want to outrank Ben I have to pee on my truck?”

  Louise tipped her head back in laughter. “But you couldn’t pee just anywhere on your truck. You’d have to urinate higher on top of the spot where he marked the tire.”

  “Hmmm.” Jason stroked his clean-shaven chin as if pondering. “I’ll let Ben believe he’s the alpha today, unless…” His features turned serious. He rested his hand on her thigh. “Your wish is my command, Lou. I’ll do anything for you. I hope you know that. Even urinate on my truck tire if that would please you.”

  Please me? Only one thing would please her at that moment, which had nothing to do with Jason asserting alpha status over her dog.

  “Geez. You know a relationship is special when a couple carries on a conversation about dog urine during a picnic,” he joked.

  Heart jack-hammering, a wave of heat rushing over her, Louise gathered his hand in hers. She glided her tongue over her lips. Locked her eyes onto his. Primed to initiate their first kiss as confirmation their relationship was, indeed, special, she leaned in. As if in slow motion, her lips inched closer and closer to his. On the verge of touching—

  “Woowf-woowf.” Ben jumped up on Louise, his wet front paws depositing mud on her khaki cargo shorts.

  She shrieked, released Jason’s hand, and pushed Ben away. “Down, Ben! Down!”

  Jason laughed. “Ben must feel the need to protect you.”

  “No.” Louise rapidly waggled her head back and forth, though she had to admit the dog’s timing was suspicious. Her canine companion had interrupted the blossoming of her first human kiss on the lips in over two decades. Sure, she had received plenty of dog kisses over the years, but…

  “Woowf-woowf.” Ben stomped his feet, glanced at the ground then back up at Louise.

  Jason ruffled his brows. “What does he want?”

  “This is what he does when he finds a treasure. He wants me to see it so I’ll praise him, telling him how smart and wonderful he is.”

  “It’s a dirty old baseball cap.”

  “At least it’s not a hand.” She hammed up a shiver, recalling the decomposing hand Ben had discovered not long ago. She slid off the tailgate and bent over to examine the hat. “Oh, no. No way.” She tapped her fingertips over her mouth. “It can’t be.”

  “What is it, Lou?” Jason stood next to her, gaping at Ben’s treasure.

  Louise’s mouth dried. Her heart still pounded and palms still sweat but no longer from romantic arousal. She picked up the cap, lightly shaking it to remove the larger globules of mud stuck to the brim.

  “Hey, I recognize that.” Jason motioned with his finger at the embroidered emblem. “It’s a California Raisin cap. I remember when those characters we
re popular in the ‘80s. That hat’s worth some money now.”

  A shiver of dread raced through Louise’s body. “Dot wore a hat like this when I saw her this morning. She cherished that hat for its sentimental value because her grandmother gave it to her right before she passed away. Dot told me she considered it her lucky hat and never traveled without it.”

  “I bet Stan’s Cleaners can make it look like new. Martha used to take her vintage lace tablecloth to Stan’s. She always raved about their service.”

  Thinking of Tom’s uniform Stan’s used to clean and press, Louise nodded. But the dry cleaner’s stellar laundering abilities were not the point. “You don’t understand, Jason. I was under the impression Dot would never part with this hat.”

  “She could have gone for a swim in the lake, left it on the shore, and Ben found it.”

  “It’s wet and muddy.”

  “Maybe she went canoeing, tipped the boat, fell into the water, and lost the hat. If it holds that much sentimental value for her, she’ll be grateful Ben, the Super Dog,” he added with a playful laugh, “found it.”

  “You’re right.” Much of the unease that had filled Louise moments earlier dissipated. “I’ll clean up the prized hat before hand-delivering it to Dot. I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to have it back, and the sooner the better.”

  “Woowf-woowf.” Ben stomped his feet.

  Louise crouched at Ben’s side, wrapped her arms around his damp body and hugged him. “Good boy. You found a real treasure. Thank you.”

  “You’re always thinking of others, Lou.” Jason flashed a smile of admiration that quickly faded to an expression taut with concern. “Have you considered that returning the hat to Dot in person means you’ll have to venture to Porter’s house and likely chat with him?”

  Talk about taking the wind out of her sails! Ugh. She hadn’t thought about having to encounter Porter at his shanty of a home. Hanging onto the cap, she rose and faced Jason. “No, I hadn’t considered that.” She waggled the wet cap in the air. “I bet most of the mud on this cap will brush off when it dries. Once it does, and after I clean it up a bit, would you mind coming with me to Porter’s?”