Page 8 of Ogre on Patrol (Monsters, PI #5)

Chapter 8

Thain

I nstead of returning to her place the next day, I had to send a text telling her I was sorry, that I’d be back working with her as soon as possible.

I spent the next two days taking care of a gremlin problem. Katar knew I’d be the best to handle it, which is why he’d asked despite knowing I had a case I was already working on.

Once I’d assured the gremlin king that we’d make sure the gnomes didn’t encroach on their territory any longer—a task that took considerable skill and time—I was free to look into Ellie’s vandalism again.

Research online and asking around town about our suspects and the incidents didn’t lead me to anything new, but I wasn’t anywhere close to giving up yet.

The next morning, after showering, dressing, eating, and moping around my place, thinking about Ellie and that kiss, I drove to the newspaper's office.

The parking lot outside the Mystic Harbor Gazette was cramped, wedged between two older brick buildings with red awnings over each window and the front door. I closed my truck door, the sound sharp in the morning air. Crouton yipped from where I held him in my arms.

I'd hold him throughout this interview, but as always, I made sure his harness was secure to his leash. “Waking up, are you?” He'd snoozed during the ride from my small house on the outskirts of Mystic Harbor to the downtown area.

Crouton blinked at me and spiraled his tail.

I left the lot and strode toward the entrance, taking in the wooden sign secured beside the door with hand-painted letters proclaiming Mystic Harbor Gazette in black paint.

Inside, the place smelled like ink and paper. A rotary fan wobbled above the receptionist’s desk, struggling to make headway against the early fall heat. The rain had left the area, and the sun had come out, struggling to remind us that summer wasn’t over yet.

The woman seated at the desk wore a yellow sweater and a dark skirt. Her short, curly red hair matched the intensity in her gaze as she peered at me over her glasses.

“Can I help you?” Her gaze dropped to the dog in my arms, and her frown fled. “What a cutie.” Crouton's tail wagging picked up speed as she rose and came around her desk to rub him behind his ears. “So sweet.” Returning to her chair, she sat.

“I'm Thain Develon, an investigator at Monsters, PI. I'd like to speak with Mason Ford.”

“Do you have an appointment? ”

“No, but I was hoping he might have a few minutes to spare.”

She tapped her nails on the desk before picking up her phone. “Hold on. Let me see.”

While she spoke into the receiver, I peered around, studying the inexpensive artwork decorating the small entry, the plain black chairs and the polished wide-board wooden floors that appeared original to the old building.

Crouton wriggled in my arms, eager to sniff a nearby potted plant and a piece of furniture. I let him stretch his snout in that direction, but didn’t loosen my grip. Small and squirrelly, he loved going on cases with me.

“Mason will be out shortly,” the receptionist said, laying her phone on her desk. She gave me a smile before squinting at her computer screen and typing away.

A minute later, a man in a dark blue and white patterned flannel shirt tucked into jeans strode into the room from a hall on the right, looking every inch the veteran reporter. Mason Ford had a mop of gray hair that hung loosely around his shoulders, a gray beard, and shoes so scuffed they could probably tell stories of their own.

“Thain, is it?” His voice held an unexpected warmth, and he extended his hand for a firm shake.

“That’s me.” My dog whined and strained forward to do his own introduction. “This is Crouton.”

“Cool dog.” Mason gave me a friendly-enough nod. “Follow me.”

He led me down a hall and into a big open room with a maze of desks covered in coffee rings, scraps of paper, and an assortment of plants. The Gazette wasn’t flashy, but it had personality. On the other side of the room, Mason opened the door to his office, gesturing for me to sit before dropping into a beat-up leather chair behind a wooden desk with its own cluster of papers, a laptop, and plants.

“So,” Mason leaned back, clasping his hands on his chest, “what’s this about?”

“I’m investigating incidents at Ellie Landish’s greenhouses,” I said, settling Crouton in my lap. The dog immediately started sniffing at the air, clearly impressed with the musky newspaper office. “You wrote an article about her recently.”

“Ah, the nature reserve plant story,” he said, scratching his beard. “What about it?”

I leaned forward, keeping my voice even. “I’d like to know where you got your information.”

He exhaled, giving me a polite smile. “I can’t really share that. Sources are confidential. You know how it is.”

“Sure, I get it. But any details you can share about the source might help. Did they come to you in person? Call? Send an email?”

Mason’s chair squeaked as his hands dropped to his armrests. “Off the record, it was an email. That’s all I can give you.”

“Anything at all about their identity?”

“No can do.”

I studied him for a moment, weighing the likelihood that he was hiding something. If he was lying, he didn’t show it in his body language .

“Alright.” I rose and tucked Crouton under my arm. “I appreciate your time.”

“Good luck with your investigation.” Mason’s grin returned, easy but distant, like he’d already mentally checked out of the conversation.

Outside in my truck, I sat for a moment, frustration settling in my chest. I was going nowhere with this investigation that meant so much.

Crouton pawed at my arm, and I secured him in his seat, giving him a quick pat on the head. I let out a slow breath as I buckled and started the engine.

But I didn't pull out of the lot right away.

The kiss from the other night kept flashing through my mind. Ellie had looked at me like she still disliked me, but she'd kissed me back. There had been no missing the way her fingers stroked my arms or the way she'd pressed her body against mine. A part of me, the silly, hopeful part, wondered if I could fix things between us. This investigation was my priority and not only because it was my job. I wanted to solve this for Ellie, show her that her concerns were equally important to me. But maybe…

Yeah, I'd be better off not thinking of maybes, not when it came to me and Ellie. She had refused to speak to me after we broke up, and she'd made it clear she wanted to keep this business between us now.

That kiss…

Grumbling, I started the truck, but before I could drive from the lot, two people arguing on the sidewalk caught my eye .

Reginald Barron, the real estate guru, and Elias Fenwick, Ellie’s only competition in town.

I slid from the truck and moved in that direction, acting like I was aiming for Monsters, PI. I stopped outside the building and turned, pretending to glance down Main Street while instead, I was trying to overhear their conversation.

“You need to make sure it’s done,” Reginald hissed.

“I told you not to worry about it,” Elias snapped. “And I’d appreciate it if you don’t accost me again in public again.”

“I’m not accosting you. I was just making sure you’re doing your part.”

“Back off and let me handle this.” With that, Elias stormed onto Main Street. A car came to a screeching halt to avoid hitting him, and he flipped his hand up in their direction, not stopping.

Reginald pivoted on his heel and strode in the opposite direction.

What had that been about?

I slowly made my way back to my truck and climbed back inside, taking notes about the conversation on my phone, though there weren’t enough details to draw any conclusions. This might have nothing to do with Ellie.

Or everything.

Starting the vehicle, I made my way toward Ellie’s place. It didn’t take long to get there, and as I pulled onto her gravel drive, I passed Ophelia Thorncroft backing out in her SUV. My chest tightened. What was Ellie's “friend” up to now? I watched in the rearview mirror as she drove her vehicle toward town.

Parking the truck, I unbuckled Crouton and tucked him under one arm as I got out. I walked over to Ellie’s back door and knocked. No answer.

Since there were a few cars in her parking lot, and I could hear general chatter in the area, she must be taking care of customers.

Crouton's head swiveled toward the row of greenhouses, and I placed him on the grass, keeping a firm grip on his leash. He scooted toward the structures with me following.

I passed two families leaving with flats of purchases and three individuals doing the same. They got into cars and drove away, leaving the lot empty.

A lull, then, and the perfect time to touch more of the damaged property to see if I could pick up some clues. Fortunately, rain wouldn’t wash magical energy away.

Inside the first greenhouse, the air hung with the scent of soil and something sweet, earthy, and distinctly magical.

Ellie must’ve decided to do some work until the next customers arrived. She leaned over a table, deftly working to transplant small, spiky seedlings with shimmering silver edges into larger pots. Frostbites. Hardy but tricky little plants known to flash-freeze themselves if handled wrong. They could be used in a variety of enchantments.

“Ellie.” My voice carried across the quiet greenhouse.

She jolted, nearly knocking over a pot as she spun toward me. The trowel in her hand was suddenly pointed in my direction like she was prepared to take me down with it.

“Thain,” she said. “Announce yourself next time, would you?” She spun back to the plants.

“I thought I did.” I kept my voice even, though the way her cheeks flushed made my lips twitch. “Mind if I watch you work?”

“I, you…”

“Me?”

“We.”

Even odder. “What about us?”

Turning back, she pinched her eyes closed for a long while before opening them again. What I saw there pretty much gutted me. I hadn't thought this woman could cut me off at the knees any longer, but seeing the sadness on her face… seeing her shake… stunned me.

“What's wrong?” I croaked.

“Everything, Thain. Everything.”