Roasted (The Cass Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  It was Jen who responded with fury. "Douchebag. You have never been good enough for her."

  Stephen went on the defensive, and clearly misunderstood Jen's point. "My BMI is under 18. She is over fat."

  "We all love Cass because she is wonderful and beautiful and we tolerate you because she loves you. " Jen pressed her hand across the top of her pregnant belly and continued darkly, "She can do better."

  Stephen continued doggedly, as if Cass wasn't present, "She is a sweetheart. I know. But she is over fat. That's a fact. She avoids cardio. You don't know anyone with a better BMI than mine." Poor prideful idiot. He had always been an idiot and Cass had simply refused to notice. She could live without Steph, she realized, but the pity in her friends' eyes just might kill her. She had swilled her wine, trying to think of something bright and brittle to say. Stephen had suggested that the two of them speak outside. Cass had agreed although she wasn't sure what he might possibly say to make things right. His opening salvo was not promising. "Pregnancy is making her nuts. You know I love you, right?"

  "You never told me that we would pick a date once I lost weight." Her throat was so tight that she cold barely whisper the words.

  "I assumed that was what you wanted. A dinner reception at the Briarthorne Hotel costs a fortune, you want to look your best. You wouldn't want to be a bride like that would you?" He'd gestured towards her body with a dismissive wave.

  That was the single most painful moment in her life. He was a stupid, petty bastard. And yet she didn't disagree with him, she might hate herself even more than she hated him. She had turned to go back inside. "I guess we are done then."

  "Baby, wait. Don't you even want to try?" Somehow Stephen was interpreting this situation in such a way that he was the victim.

  The pain made her feel eviscerated. "I think I'd be a pretty bride."

  "You will, I love you, but wouldn't it be better to be a smaller size?"

  "I'm going back inside, Stephen. You should probably just go. Jen won't want you here."

  He'd grown incensed then. "It's not my fault you can't control your calorie intake. What am I supposed to do, pretend I don't notice your love handles? That's not love, its lying!" When she did not turn around he had tried another tactic. "I'm your business partner. You can't just get rid of me. You can eat the money we've lost if you won't get ready for the wedding. God knows you eat everything else." Astonishingly, she had been able to discuss their business arrangement, standing on a sidewalk surrounded by the shards of her blown up life. She'd agreed that he would continue as business manager of the blog.

  Killian listened without comment and then asked, "Is that what you wanted? A big formal wedding at a fancy hotel?"

  "I thought I did. It's what I had always assumed we'd have." Lying in the crook of his arm, she acknowledged to Killian that in retrospect none of it made any sense. She did all of the recipe testing and all of the blog writing, why did she feel that she owed him any involvement at all? She had, though. She had moved out of the apartment that she had thought she'd begin her marriage in. She had found a smaller apartment with a better kitchen, since she no longer had to look for a home that was close to the gym. She posted recipes every day. She had hired an agent to sell her cookbook since she now had bills from the wedding that would never happen. She had received an email from Stephen two weeks after she had moved out. In it he had described discovering the love of his life at his gym and informed her that Mimi had moved into the apartment. He had blamed Cass for ruining their engagement with her selfishness and laziness, and now he had tried to move Mimi into the blog.

  Killian was outraged on her behalf. It briefly dawned on Cass that this was a recurring theme in her life. Jen wanted to kill Stephen for hurting her, Killian was indignant that Stephen should try to benefit businesswise. Cass herself had just accepted it as her due. But not the blog. That she was not going to roll over about she swore to the handsome man at her side.

  "She can't have that, even if they try. You have a lot of followers because you are the best at what you do."

  "You are right. I totally am." It had grown dark, so she knew it had to be very late. She kissed him again. "Will we get our own place or stay in the lodge?" Her phone suddenly chirped. Cass was pulling up her jeans with one hand checking her phone with the other. A series of texts and notifications streamed in. Her blog was back. The posts she had lined up over the last few days appeared in a steady reassuring stream. Life was perfect.

  Chapter 11 - Missing

  Killian held a finger up. "Hear that? Better finish getting dressed." She shimmied her sweatshirt on. A small light was racing towards them. Killian was clearly unnerved by its appearance. The boat pilot was a lithe blonde. She expertly pulled alongside them. Cass realized that Killian was trembling. "Is it Bea?" he called.

  The blonde shook her head. Killian's relief was temporary. "It's Hugh. He's missing. Your brother sent me for you. You have to come right now." The two of them clearly understood some unspoken boating language because the blonde tied her boat to the back of Killian's. He helped her climb over. Killian took off at breakneck speed towards the shore. The blonde had to yell over the engine, "Hugh was walking the dogs, he didn't come home. Travis is insisting its wolves."

  Wolves? Sweet bloody Jesus, Cass thought. Why would anyone live here? Bears and now wolves that attack sweet old men.

  "Wolves? Bullshit."

  "People are searching, your brother got there and won't let anyone touch the trail until you get there."

  The blonde rubbed Killian's shoulder in a proprietary way. "We'll find him. It will be okay."

  Killian looked at her gratefully. "Cass, this is Libby Pritchett." The women shook hands and Cass realized then that angry woman at the Lodge earlier in the day had been this woman's mother. She wondered why Mrs. Pritchett would have such an obvious dislike for Killian when her daughter seemed pleased to see him.

  The situation didn't lend itself to chatting. They docked the boat and went running up the dock. Hazel met them in the jeep. "Well done, dear, I knew you could find them." Cass realized some uncomfortable facts. Libby was clearly a friend of the family and yet, Killian had never mentioned her. She had also known exactly where to look for them out on the open ocean. She was struggling to know what to make of this information.

  Hazel was not the skillful driver that her son was. In fact, driving with Hazel may well be the single most dangerous thing that anyone could ever do in Alaska. Cass noticed that she utterly ignored the stop sign. People were converging from all sides with flashlights glowing like giant fireflies. All eyes were on Killian as he carefully surveyed the path. There were tracks all over the muddy path. Killian stood and pronounced. "He wasn't attacked by wolf pack." A murmur arose from the crowd. Wolf tracks had been spotted all around the town lately. Over the last several days, many tourists visiting Slick Trench had snapped pictures of very large wolf tracks and posted them online. The town had developed a reputation as a wolf habitat. Killian was adamant. " I don't know what this is –but wolves are stealth hunters, they track their prey. Has anyone ever seen anything like this?"

  A number of searchers were pointing out that the wolves had suddenly converged on a wide part of the path, right where hundreds of people had hiked. This, Dr. Darkhorse Nelson, insisted was unheard of. Wolves did not lay in wait to ambush prey and they avoided places frequented by people, he said. He reached for his brother's flashlight and knelt in the dirt. Some older men, clearly hunters, had arrived and they seemed to concur with Killian. To Cass it all looked simply horrifying. Wild animals had torn an elderly man to pieces. Although, she realized with some confusion, she didn't see any blood. Bea was sitting on a large rock nearby, with two dogs on leashes.

  Killian leaned in close to Cass and he gestured to Libby and a man in a ranger uniform, presumably his brother. "I don't know what the fuck is going on. No wolves have been anywhere near here. Look how calm the dogs are. They don't smell wolves."

  Cass gl
anced at the tracks. "Could they be other dog tracks?"

  The ranger shook his head. "They are wolf tracks. Sort of." He and Killian squatted lower and Cass could hear bits and pieces of their whispered conversation. "Only one track—it's all the exact same paw, look at that dewclaw… this boot track goes right over these prints. Hugh walked over these tracks after they were already down. Holy shit…"

  Libby chimed in, "Wouldn't there be scat?" Cass knew what scat was having watched wilderness specials on the television. She looked around, no scat. It was annoying in the extreme that the sylphlike Libby was also apparently a skilled outdoorswoman. The first set of searchers had returned having found nothing. Killian pointed out that it was unlikely that a wolf could drag a full grown man and not leave behind anything, shoes or glasses. He was fighting a losing battle. People were scared. Travis thanked the crowd for coming. He appeared very upset, wringing the sheet of paper he was holding into oblivion. Whatever speech he planned to give was preempted by the other Nelson brother taking over the situation. The rangers were confounded he said, nothing that was known about wolf behavior seemed to match this situation.

  Ranger Nelson thanked everyone for hurrying out to help and mentioned, with an obvious catch in his throat that all their thoughts and prayers were with Hugh and his beloved wife Bea. He reminded them that although Hugh was a very experienced outdoorsman, he was in his late eighties and the most likely explanation is that he had become ill while walking his dogs and was somewhere nearby, unharmed. He'd said that the cruise directors had been informed of the situation and to ensure the safety of all concerned, the tourists would not disembark until this situation was resolved. Cass noted that Travis looked ill. She wondered how this turn of events would affect his plans for increasing commerce and tourism to the town. None of that mattered as much as finding Hugh though.

  Chapter 12 - A Favor for Hazel

  Sitting side by side, there was no denying the clear family resemblance between Bea and Hazel. When the dogs had returned without their owners she had arranged for neighbors to immediately look for him, aware of the growing darkness. Someone had found the wolf tracks and immediately rangers had been called in. The women were frightened, but there was a resolve to them that Cass found uplifting. They would get through this as they had gotten through countless other hard things.

  Bea reached for her Cass's hand. "Honey, you just stay here with us. You have no business going out there in the dark."

  Hazel interrupted, "Actually, sweet pea, you could help me a lot. Bea has asked me to stay with her. I have a lodge full of guests who will be expecting dinner." Cass felt a wave of relief move over her. She was worthless out here, but she could certainly feed people. Killian and his brother walked over. Cass was pleased to meet Torsten, although she wished it had been under different circumstances. He bore a close resemblance to his older brother. He was slightly taller and had a slimmer build. He winked at Cass as he shook her hand. There was definitely something about those Nelson men.

  "It's great you are here. We're going to find him and then we will all laugh about his later." Cass did feel reassured. A younger ranger was dispatched to drive her to the Lodge. She tried to chat with him as he drove. It didn't get very far.

  "So are you Killian's new girl?"

  She was surprised at how easy it was to answer that question. "Yes, I am. My name is Cass."

  "You are not from around here are you?" he asked, which struck her as a ludicrous question, everyone knew everyone in Slick Trench. "Staying long?"

  Her first response was to answer, "Ummm yeah, I think I'm staying forever." This struck her as a bit premature, so instead she said, "I am not sure."

  Cass wrote a blog post as she prepared dinner:

  Fondness and Fond

  It will happen to all of us at some point, we'll desire to be of use, perhaps a friend who has a hospitalized parent, or a new baby or a community that is searching for a beloved elderly man who is missing in the wilderness. One of the great things about knowing how to cook is that you can always offer succor. This is exactly why you should focus on cooking techniques more than specific recipes. A quick purview of my Alaskan hosts' larder left me with many options—and brought home one more reason to clean out my fridge. Someday someone might want to help me and I don't want them to see how I ACTUALLY live! I was amazed to see Hazel's freezer with its neat rows of labelled bags "Moose ribs" and "venison flank". It occurred to me that I shouldn't take risks with a meal that hungry searchers might be relying on. I found a huge bag of frozen chicken thighs and decided on a white chili. Don't even bother trying this with chicken breasts, they lack succulence. You might as well throw in some balsa wood. Save the breasts for applications when looks matters, this is not one of those. Remember you want a shallow container and a high volume of cold water-friction is what will do the work here to thaw the chicken. While the thighs defrosted under running water, I whipped up some white cheddar corn bread. As soon as the meat was pliable enough to cut, I sliced it into strips and put it back under the running water. Speed was of the essence here. So watch your meat and as it softens cut it into smaller pieces. For this application you want small cubes. This technique helps you avoid the white shriveled edges of microwave deforested meant… I had meant to type "defrosted" meat, but "deforested" is an accurate description for meat that is nuked from its frozen state. I sautéed three large onions, medium dice, until soft and then added a generous palm full each of cumin and chili powder--remember you want chili powder not dried chiles unless you are helping people that you secretly want to burn lipless—and allowed the spices to bloom in the hot oil. I dumped in cans of white beans. You need two cans of beans per pound of chicken. As the pieces of chicken thawed, I patted them dry and browned them in the largest cast iron skillet I had ever seen. As the meat took on a nice color I moved it into the simmering vegetables. I added some chicken stock and simmered briefly. It is far better to brown the chicken in batches then to allow it to poach in thigh water turning into rubbery snails without the flavor built by proper browning. The brown bits that gather in the pan are your friend, they make a huge difference. This flavor builder is so important that it actually has a name, "fond". Fifteen minutes of simmering are all that are required, but using chicken thighs instead of breasts buys you a bit of insurance, should you need it to cook longer. Serve forth with sour cream, grated cheese, and corn chips. Enjoy the opportunity to serve people you care about.

  She posted the recipe. The lodge had become mission central and Cass was able to help sustain several waves of searchers. She poured drinks, ladled chili and shared everyone else's consternation. Initially Cass found the conversation of some of the locals distressing. In the darkness, searchers were finding it difficult to find any signs of the man. She was assured more than once that Hugh must be fine since wolves do not cache their prey. Again, wilderness specials were helpful as she knew that "cache" is wildlife biologist speak for "kill and then hide". There was no sign of Hugh.

  Chapter 13 - The Coven

  She was serving the third wave of searchers when the girls from the pizza place came in. They were openly hostile to her. Cass found things to keep her busy although snippets of their conversations lilted over to her with appalling frequency.

  "Hope he doesn't treat her like he treated Libby." She wasn't sure which of the pizza hags had said it, but there was no ignoring it. She set down the pitcher of sweet tea that she had been doling out.

  She sat down beside them and she said, "You clearly want to say some things to me so, let's go." Cass was not going to wonder what they were saying about her. She was going to find out. One of the harpies seemed embarrassed by the whole thing, but two of them leant in with gusto. The girls were similar in many ways but Cass was learning to tell them apart. There was the one with the pierced eyebrow, the one with the platinum streak bleached in her hair and the one with the glasses.

  "Did you notice the gorgeous blonde who found you guys?" asked Glasses.

>   "I've met Libby if that is what you mean."

  A deluge followed. Pierced took great delight in pointing out that Libby had known how to find them because it is where they, Killian and Libby, used to go. In fact, Bleached chimed in it was where they had lost their virginity to each other. Cass felt her heart constrict. Glasses picked up the ball and ran with it. Killian had dumped Libby for no particular reason and had broken her heart. The whole town knew he was untrustworthy and they had been waiting for the chance to warn Cass. Cass suddenly remembered Bea's warning to "just ignore people". Cass sincerely doubted that the coven of Slick Trench had been concerned about her well-being. They were clearly relishing their role as denigrators of all things Killian. It got even worse. Killian and Libby had been engaged. The dress was purchased, plans made, the invitations had been mailed when, with no warning, he called it off. Cass suddenly remembered the loathing on the face of Libby's mother. She was working to keep her own face neutral, no reason to let the bitchy trio know that they had struck a mortal blow to her self-esteem.

  Pierced reached for her arm. "Look you've seen Libby. If he won't be faithful to her, he's going to break your heart too." Well, thought Cass—that ship has sailed. She might throw up.

  Glasses continued," Nobody thinks it's your fault. You cannot believe anything the man says."

  Cass could bear it no longer. Once again she was the object of pity. Once again everyone but her had known that it was ridiculous to think a man that handsome would be interested in her. Her cheeks were hot with shame. She felt the room tilt around her and briefly considered passing out. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked back out through the kitchen. Stopping only to ensure the stove was turned off she left the lodge with no intention of ever returning. She was able to pack in under five minutes. She would get back to civilization, salvage her career and give up on the idea of love. It didn't happen to girls like her. She gritted her teeth against the tears that threatened to fall. Why was she always so stupid?