LITMIR.BIZ

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didn’t have a quarrel. The man killed my sister.”

      * * * *

      Things were getting curiouser and curiouser, as Alice would say. Except this wasn’t Wonderland and Angie hadn’t fallen down a rabbit hole. Or maybe she had. She glanced around Ian McNeal’s cramped office and wondered if she was only dreaming. Angie pinched her arm just as Ian returned with a glass of iced tea.

      “I’m afraid this is reality. No use getting all bruised up.” He sat the tea in front of her and then instead of going around the desk, he sat in the other visitor chair next to her. “I’m sorry about this morning. When Allen asked me if I’d seen anyone else talking to Old Man Moss, you popped into my head. He thought me being there might help when he questioned you.”

      Angie stared into Ian’s deep blue eyes. “Why? Because I’m some female who needs taken care of?”

      The jerk of his head was almost imperceptible, but she’d seen her words had the effect of a slap. “We—I didn’t mean to be insensitive. Allen’s just not good with people. His deputy typically handles the interviews and I don’t think they’ve had a murder in River Vista for over twenty years. And that was a bar fight.”

      She was winning friends and influencing people. The way she was going, she might as well put a closed sign on the restaurant and get that chef job in Boise. “You and the Sheriff seem close. Are you friends?”

      “It’s complicated. He’s kind of family.”

      When Ian didn’t continue the story, Angie figured that door had been closed. “I’m still a bit shaken over the news. I didn’t know Mr. Moss well, but he seemed so settled. I was looking forward to getting to know him better as he knew my grandmother.”

      “He could be a bit of a curmudgeon, especially when it came to his cheese. The other farmers thought he was cheating by taking on several government grants to build his barn and set up that darn cheese cave.” Ian glanced at his watch. “Sorry, I hate to move this on, but I’ve got another appointment in Boise early this afternoon. What did you want to talk to me about?”

      Angie set the tea aside. “I need your approval to use your farmers’ network for our supply chain. Yes, The County Seat has filed corporation papers, but that’s just about business. My friend and I are the owners and we’re not hiding behind some legal maneuvering. We’re here for the long haul and I expect to make The County Seat one of the premier farm-to-fork restaurants in Idaho before we’re done.”

      “That’s a lofty goal.” He glanced out the window that faced Main Street. “River Vista is kind of a small community for you to be expecting that kind of attention. Maybe you should look for property in Boise or even Sun Valley?”

      “I grew up here.” She pushed back her hair from her face, a habit she’d tried to stop but had failed. “I know we can pull in from the surrounding areas. Besides, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve to bring in more business. Including takeout for busy couples. The only thing I need now is the produce and supplies to make the food. And that’s where you come in.”

      “You don’t understand. I can’t just approve everyone who comes in here with a sob story. I have to protect the integrity of the food.” Ian sighed. “I’m going to be honest with you. We just had an issue with a guy who said all the right things, but once he set up shop, he conveniently forgot to pay his debts. Then, he moved on to another town where he could pull the same scam. The farmer group lost a lot of money. I just want to make sure you are going to be part of the community, not just a fly by night drifter.”

      “I’m not going anywhere. I know a farm-to-fork concept will thrive out here. I studied the demographics before I bought the building and took out the loan. But I need locally sourced produce and protein sources to make it successful. I’m hoping to be 100 percent local, but there may be products I might have to use from at least organic sources. Like olive oil.”

      “You could use local butter. There’s no reason to break your farm-to-table pledge if you are really committed to local sourcing.” Ian glanced at his watch again, standing to end the meeting. “I really have to go. I’m expected at the cheese commission in Meridian at two. We’re discussing a memorial for Gerald.”

      “What about my suppliers?” Angie stood and watched as Ian opened the door, holding it for her.

      “I’ll send out an email to the group. If you insist on trying, I can’t stand in your way. But don’t think that it’s going to be easy. Most of these guys don’t like change. And they really don’t like new ideas. Just talk about honoring their food and they might choose to work with you.” He tossed his head toward the door and Angie followed him out. He locked the small office, turning the in sign to out. “But I can’t make them sell to you. You’re on your own there.”

      “I’m sure I can be convincing.” Angie put on her best smile.

      He stopped in the hallway. “Please, take this the way it’s intended. But don’t smile like that when you’re talking to the guys. You look creepy.” He turned around and headed out to the street.

      “I do not look creepy.” She called after him. She examined her reflection in the glass of the doors, trying out her smile again. Okay, so it looked a little creepy. Her cell rang. “Hello?”

      “Where are you? I thought we were going to the winery for lunch?” Felicia whined. “I’m starving.”

      “I’m right down the street.” Angie pushed open the door. Ian was getting into an older wagon with logos on the side announcing the River Vista Farmers Market. She supposed she should thank him, but he hadn’t been particularly supportive of her ideas. In fact, he’d insinuated she’d fail. Well, she’d show him. Creepy, he was creepy, not her. She spun left and headed to the restaurant.

      The short walk did nothing to cool the steam. That man was infuriating. If he wasn’t key to The County Seat being successful, she’d show him what he could do with his concern about her smile. This is why she liked being in the kitchen. There, no one bothered her, except maybe a waitress with a bad attitude or a sous chef who wasn’t pulling his weight. Those things she could handle.

      She found Felicia sitting outside with a book in her hand. Another Highlander romance from what she could tell by the cover. When her friend saw her, she popped up. “I’m so hungry, I could eat this book.”

      “Sorry, I got tied up.” She motioned to the back of the building. “I parked in the back. Let’s go before I decided to go back and trash his office.”

      “I take it the meeting went badly? What are we going to do about supplies?” Felicia followed Angie around the building, trying to keep up.

      “Oh, he’s letting people sell to us. He doesn’t think I’ll be very effective working with his farmers though. He treats me like…” She paused and considered the last hour. “A helpless female.”

      “Oh, boy.” Felicia climbed into the passenger seat.

      Angie started up the car and looked over at her friend. “That’s all you got? Oh, boy?”

      Felicia squirmed in her seat. “It’s just that I know how you can get. If you think you’ve been slighted, well, you go a little overboard to fix things.”

      “I’ve never gone overboard.” Angie pulled the car out of the small lot and drove out of town.

      Felicia turned toward her. “What about the time you sent 12 dozen cookies to the reviewer who didn’t like your dessert?”

      “She deserved them. She wouldn’t know a good dessert from a store-bought cookie.”

      “And the time you bought out every avocado, lime, and tomato the market had on hand because they refused to special order your produce?”

      That had been a little extreme. They’d been making some sort of salsa special for the next week, trying to use up all the produce before it went bad. “It worked didn’t it? The manager called me the next day

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