Page 18 of Stay for Forever

Chapter 7

The more people I meet, the more I love my dog.

Isigh as I catch Ashlyn climbing through my kitchen window. She notices me sitting at my dining table watching her and waves before taking a bow. If she thinks I’m going to applaud her ability to get into my house without a key, she’s sorely mistaken. What I will do is remember to lock my windows from now on.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to stop you from obsessing about a sexy Hollywood actor.”

The nasty comment I had locked and loaded for her stalls in my mouth. I’ve tried everything to get my mind off Maverick Langston. Working at the Wildlife Refuge hasn’t helped. Going for hikes to the falls hasn’t helped. Giving the dogs flea baths hasn’t helped, although even Bark Twain smells pretty now. I’m ready and willing to try another tactic.

“What’s your plan?”

She squeals and does a victory dance. “I knew you’d be in.”

I hold up my hand. “I’m not in yet. I want to hear your idea first. I can’t spend the night in jail when my animals are dependent on me for breakfast in the morning.”

She rolls her eyes. “One night. One freaking night you spent in jail. When are you going to stop throwing it in my face?”

“Never. The only reason there weren’t more nights spent in jail is because we managed to get away all the other times you pulled your antics.”

“Oh, please. We would have never spent the night in jail for distributing hash brownies in Winter Falls.”

She’s delusional. The only reason we didn’t end up in jail facing a prison sentence is because the chief of police at the time ate a brownie and was too stoned to give chase. Luckily, he didn’t have any recollection of dancing down Main Street in his undies the following day. Lesson learned. No helping Ashlyn out with bake sales.

“Besides, marijuana is completely legal in Colorado.”

I don’t bother reminding her there’s a difference between a drug being legal and distributing such drug to unsuspecting people in the form of delicious, irresistible brownies. A big difference.

“What’s your plan?” I repeat my question.

Her eyes light up before she announces, “We’re going to solve the Mystery of the Black Hat Bandit’s Missing Loot.”

I groan. The Mystery of the Black Hat Bandit’s Missing Loot is this wild goose chase Aspen and Ashlyn have been on to locate fifty-thousand dollars the black hat bandit, aka Robert Adams, stole from Hastings National Bank in Nebraska in 1955. They’re convinced the bandit hid the money somewhere in Winter Falls for his lover, Patricia.

“Are you still going on about this? I thought you gave you up.” Thought? Wished is more like it.

She rears back. “Why would I give up? Do you have me confused with someone else? I never give up. Ask Rowan if you need a reminder.”

I am not going to ask her husband how she never gave up. There are some things about my baby sister I do not need to know.

“I thought the whole mystery was at a dead end since Ellery refuses to allow you to dig up the lawn at The Inn on Main.”

As far as I know, the latest clue led Aspen and Ashlyn to believe the money was buried in the yard of Ellery’s bed and breakfast. When Ellery heard, she lost her dang mind before putting her foot down. She’s fiercely protective of the manor she shed blood and tears to renovate into a bed and breakfast. She won’t let anyone damage it.

Ashlyn whistles as she suddenly finds the wall behind me fascinating. If she screamed ‘I didn’t listen to Ellery’, it wouldn’t be more obvious.

“You suck. What have you been up to?”

She shrugs. “I may have accidentally found a lockbox when I was digging in the yard of the Inn on Main.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Accidentally?”

“I made a deal with Ellery,” she says instead of answering my question.

She pauses, and I motion for her to get on with it. “What’s the deal?”

Her nose wrinkles. “Ellery kept the lockbox for safekeeping.”

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