Caught in the Frame (Ponderosa Pines Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) ReGina Welling (readict books TXT) 📖

a hotel—and they do a lot of weddings, so most of the planning part will amount to us reigning in Mother’s over-the-top ideas.” Sitting on her favorite section of EV’s kitchen island, waiting for the jaunty red teapot to whistle, Chloe watched while EV perused the castle’s website. From her perch, Chloe looked over EV’s shoulder at the laptop on the coffee table, currently displaying an extensive slideshow of rolling Irish hillsides, sprawling grounds, and gleaming waterfront vistas.

“She’s always had a penchant for the dramatic, that’s for sure. Of course she’d pick a castle in the middle of Ireland; wouldn’t want to do anything halfway, that one.” EV snorted from across the room. Once upon a time, Lila and EV had been inseparable—the best of friends. But when Lila had fled from the Pines as soon as Chloe was old enough to handle extensive travel, their bond had become somewhat strained. EV felt closer to Chloe, despite their age difference, than she ever had to Lila.

EV, who still lived in the house her parents had built, held a place of honor in their small community, having been instrumental in turning the once-hippie-commune into a legitimate town. Lila spent the last twenty years searching for something more, while EV chose to put down roots in Ponderosa Pines. Neither woman understood or fully respected the other’s choices, which led to a give-and-take of subtle jabs that kept their relationship from ever returning to its unconditional beginnings. Two weeks spent in close proximity was either going to eliminate or solidify the emotional disconnect between them. Chloe hoped for the former, since these were the two most important women in her life.

“So we’ll leave on Saturday. That gives us two weeks before the wedding. Seems doable.”

Chloe leaned over to look at the website alongside EV.

“Ooh, look at the spa services. They’ve expanded the selection. You would love a mud bath. And we’re definitely getting hot stone massages. And facials. Oh, this is going to be fun!”

“Have you lost your ever-loving mind? Look who you’re talking to here. All I can picture is the Wash-Em Brush-Em team from Oz, scrubbing and buffing me ‘til I’m shiny and new. Not happening. Maybe Nate will join you for that one.” EV tried for a tone that suggested the topic wasn’t up for debate, but softened at the mention of Nate’s name. She was thrilled about Chloe and Nate’s newfound happiness, and only approximately 10% of her joy was related to smugness at the fact that she had helped make it happen. Well, maybe 15%, but who was counting?

“I already have plans for us: jacuzzi suite, couples massages…” Chloe’s expression took on a dreamlike quality, her voice trailing off as her thoughts flew to the inevitable conclusion of those activities.

EV plucked a throw pillow off the couch and flung it at Chloe’s head. “If you are imagining Nathaniel Harper naked, just stop it right now!”

Chloe recovered quickly: the startled look on her face replaced with mock-vengeance, she bounced down from the counter and lobbed the pillow back across the living room, where EV quickly snatched it out of the air.

“What about 'Babble & Spin'? Have you talked to Wesley about that yet?” EV was referring to Chloe’s gossip column in the small Ponderosa Pines weekly newsletter, The Pine Cone. She couldn’t exactly keep up with the goings-on at the Pines from halfway across the globe, and readers would certainly notice if the most popular article was missing for several weeks.

There was a good reason Chloe couldn’t allow anyone in town to make a correlation between the column’s absence and her travel plans: she was the latest in a series of anonymous authors of 'Babble & Spin'. The quirky, beloved tradition was just one of the little things that made the Pines special; people enjoyed speculating about the mystery as much as they enjoyed the gossip itself.

Nobody, save for EV—with her borderline-magical deductive skills—knew that Chloe was the columnist, not even Nate. The last thing Chloe wanted was to become the first author in the history of the paper to be outed.

A contingent of townspeople had EV pegged for the role, since nothing happened in the Pines without her knowing something about it. Given that, it wasn’t a long leap to assume she had something to do with the column, but EV preferred to tend the gossip vines on her own. Though she enjoyed feeding information to Chloe, EV had no desire to take up the post herself.

“I’m toying with some ideas on how to sidestep suspicion, and I’m meeting him at his office later to discuss options.” Wesley’s office consisted of an artfully re-purposed storage pod occupying a corner of his backyard. Chloe didn’t frequent the space, keeping her distance, since she had no official affiliation with the Pine Cone besides the occasional editorial piece submitted under her real name.

EV continued browsing through the wedding section of the castle’s website, noting the myriad of expensive-looking options for the discerning bride. Full service was an understatement: of course their five-star restaurant would provide catering, and a spectacular cake; the salon would cover hair, makeup, nails, etc. Above and beyond, the resort employed a full-time photographer, florist, seamstress—even an ice sculpture artist—not to mention, a staff of professional event planners who could make even the biggest Bridezilla’s dreams come true. EV guessed that if Lila had wanted acrobats to fly across the banquet hall pouring champagne, the Castle Ligean staff would find a way to accommodate the request.

Letting a low whistle escape her lips, EV promised herself that if she did ever get hitched, she’d make it easy on everyone and skip the diamond-encrusted path through wedding hell. Vegas all the way, she vowed.

* * *

Sugar and Spice, the names much too mild for the antics of Chloe’s pair of Siamese kittens, wreaked pandemonium every time Nate walked into the house. They’d taken an instant liking to the man, who gave them warm snuggles and unending chin scratches.