Eve pursed her lips and looked around Misfit, from the blood-red ceiling to the skiing and snowboarding stickers plastered over the walls. “Is Russell House our brand?”
“Not really, but Monica called us a ‘Glimmer Lake institution.’”
Eve laughed. “Meaning we’re the only game in town?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” The corner of Val’s mouth lifted. “And they don’t want it to be too stuffy up there. The Lodge has stuffy covered. They want sleek and sophisticated and just a little edgy. Younger patrons, not older.”
“We serve everyone,” Eve pulled a shot of espresso and gently added the milk. “You’ll need another barista. At least?”
“I think one person will be enough most of the time.” Val took the cappuccino from Eve and handed it across the counter. “We’ll have to see if there are rush times. If there are—maybe on weekend mornings—we might be able to snag one of Monica’s people to fill in.”
“That could work. But we’ll definitely have to train another barista.”
“Unless we can find someone new in town, yeah.”
Eve nodded. “But we have a couple of months.”
“They’re not officially open except for events until May.”
“That gives us time.”
“I thought so.” Val glanced up and saw Sully enter the coffee shop. She instinctively reached for a large cup and wrote his name on it.
Eve asked, “Did Monica mention anything about signage for Russell House?”
“Nothing on the front of the house, but we can put something on the road to direct—”
“Val.” Sully nudged aside two snowboarders at the front of the line to reach her. “You have a minute?”
Eve and Val exchanged a look.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I’m not here for coffee,” Sully said. “I need to talk to you.”
His face was grim and his mouth was set in a flat line. This was not a flirtatious visit or a coffee visit. This felt… official.
Val felt the blood drain from her face. “My boys—?”
“Are fine. As are your parents. I’m not here about…” He grew frustrated. “Can we just go to the back please?”
The snowboarders were watching with wide eyes and open mouths while Eve shoved Val toward the back.
“I’ll cover the front,” Eve said. “Go. I’ll bring you back some coffee in a minute.”
Val felt frozen as she walked down the hall. She tugged at her gloves, unsure of whether she should take them off or not. What was going on? What was happening? Why wouldn’t Sully say anything?
He reached around her and opened the door to the back porch, then ushered her into the covered area and flipped on the heater before he turned to her. “I don’t want you to panic. Your immediate family is fine.”
“My immediate family?”
Sully took off his hat and set it on the table, running a hand through the shaggy brown hair that covered his collar.
“You need a haircut,” Val said absently.
“I know. I’ve just been busy, and honestly, it’s fucking cold and I can’t be bothered.”
She focused on his hat, crossing her arms and staring at the light brown Stetson. He was such a mountain man. Flannel and leather and cowboy hats. And she shaved her head and had a million tattoos and rarely dressed in anything but black. No one would put them together in a million years. What a weird idea.
“Val, look at me.”
She glanced at him, then looked away. “You’re going to tell me something bad.”
“No one is dead, okay? It’s Josh.”
One name was enough to snap her out of her frozen panic. “Josh?” She uncrossed her arms and fisted them on her hips. “Josh?”
“Yeah, it’s about Josh.”
She let out a long string of curses. “You fucking had me in knots, Sully! What the fuck did Josh do?”
“Well…” He huffed. “It’s not good. There’s a warrant out for his arrest in Bridger, and no one can find him.”
“His arrest? For what?” Josh was a dumbass, but he wasn’t a criminal. He’d grown some pot when they were younger, but that was the extent of his nefarious ways. And pot was legal these days. “What’s going on?”
“You know he was working for Luxury Pro Autoworks, right?”
Val snorted. “Yeah.”
Sully got out his notebook. “Do you know why he left West’s garage?”
“’Cause he’s an idiot?”
Sully just waited.
She rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows. He slept with West’s wife. I can’t hardly blame the guy for kicking him out.”
“Yeah, so apparently he was about to be fired from Luxury Pro Autoworks too. Not for sleeping with anyone”—he answered Val’s question before she could ask it—“but because he was moonlighting. Offering cut rates to Luxury’s customers to work on their cars in their own garages. You know he has that truck.”
“Yeah. He was talking about starting something on his own a couple of years ago and found the money for the truck.” Not that he could find the money to pay child support that summer, but that was another story. “He’s an idiot. What’s the warrant about though?”
“So he was working on some guy’s Mercedes in Pheasant Creek off the books. This guy is claiming he gave Josh ten grand to buy parts and Josh took off with the money.”
Val frowned. “Someone is claiming Josh stole ten grand from them?”
“Yeah.” Sully’s hand was poised over his notebook. “Sound like something he’d do?”
“No.” Val shrugged. “You know I’m not of a fan of my ex, but that doesn’t sound like Josh at all. Sleep with someone’s wife? Sure. Moonlight if he thought a garage was taking too big a cut? Sure. But just flat out steal from a customer? No way. And especially not a rich one.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you ask him, he’ll tell you rich dudes rarely know how to drive the cars they buy.”
Sully looked confused. “But why—?”
“They’re the best customers,” Val said. “They buy fancy cars and don’t care how much it costs to fix them. They usually buy high-performance vehicles that can’t be driven like Mom’s minivan, but a lot of these guys don’t really know how to drive, so they have to take their cars in a lot. He was constantly working on high-end sports cars when he was at West’s.”
Sully put a hand on his hip and slid the notebook into his front shirt pocket. “So you don’t think he’d pull a stunt like this?”
“No way. The dude is lying. Don’t know why, but he is.”
“What if the guy was an asshole to him for some reason?”
“Then Josh just wouldn’t work with him,” Val said. “There’s not many mechanics in the mountains as good as Josh. So if he told you no, you’d have to go a hundred miles to find anyone willing to work on a really high-performance engine. Unless this guy was an idiot, he wouldn’t start a petty fight with the best specialty mechanic in the area.”