Meow Mayhem

by Lickel, Lisa;

  Adam’s door chime sounded as my favorite policeman and his current sidekick arrived.

  “Officer Ripple, Lucy. Thanks for coming,” I interrupted myself, heaving a sigh of relief.

  Adam narrowed his eyes and stood.

  I gave my statement as Ripple took the opportunity to explain things in detail to Lucy. We even walked outside so I could show them the spot where the presumed theft occurred. We all searched the sidewalk and gutter carefully to make sure I had not simply dropped my purse.

  “All righty, then,” Ripple said. “We’ll be in touch.” He and Lucy took off.

  Adam stood in the door of Mea Cuppa waiting for me.

  Since I kept a spare key hidden by the gas tank, I could at least drive my car home.

  “I can take you tomorrow afternoon to get a new driver’s license,” he said, when we reentered the shop. “With school out, Colleen will come in the afternoons.”

  “Thank you. That would be great.”

  “Business seems pretty slow today.”

  He shrugged. “That happens. Things go in cycles. When we have the official grand opening, I expect it’ll pick up again.”

  He didn’t seem eager to resume our interrupted conversation, and I didn’t press for it, since three bad things had already happened today. I finished the coffee and tossed my cup in the waste basket. I grabbed another chocolate hoping it would give me an endorphin rush. “I guess I’ll get going. See you later.”

  ~*~

  The next day the students and I crowded around Yolanda’s work table to eat a late lunch.

  “You do seem to be the target of an unusual amount of crime,” Sonja noted soberly over her roast beef sandwich.

  I’d brought one for Yolanda, too, as well as a snack for Jenny.

  The munchkin hopped onto Elvis’s lap as soon as he sat down.

  Elvis waved a hand at Yolanda’s sharp retort to her granddaughter. “No worries. I have oodles of nieces and nephews. I like kids.”

  Lucy finished first. “Let’s get to work.” She encouraged us to take a last bite or swallow, and then passed around a waste basket.

  Yolanda had shown me the ad files earlier and I sat down now at the computer to begin some updates.

  She led the others to a storage room tucked behind the office. Ten minutes later they paraded back, Elvis carrying bound issues. Yolanda, red-faced, sputtered.

  Jenny took the rear flank, galloping on an imaginary pony.

  I heard Sonja’s voice from behind a large file. “We figured out why someone threw the stink grenade—to cover up a theft.” She dumped her stack on a table. “The files from the years the mayor was in high school and college are missing.”

  Elvis set the more recent files he carried next to hers. “Sonja and I can start with these.”

  Yolanda’s sour expression returned. “I told them that we’d recently allowed the historical society to pick up our multiples. That makes more storage room for us. I’ll call the police. Lucy will check at the society headquarters for the missing issues. Mrs. Green, Bob’s mother, is president of the society.”

  “They must be important if someone stole them,” Lucy declared. She took Sonja’s car for the drive to the Old Birch House museum, the home of Solomon Birch, one of Apple Grove’s most prominent citizens of the nineteenth century.

  I had yet to visit the place myself, but I heard they put on a wonderful Christmas open house. Now I wondered if I would be in Apple Grove that long.

  Sonja and Elvis methodically worked their way through recent issues, searching for articles pertaining to city government and the mayor personally. I could hear them, pointing out facts and showing each other columns of interest.

  Jenny perched on a chair, drawing more fantastic pictures.

  Ripple came.

  I tried to make myself invisible while he talked to Yolanda and, other than a sharp glance in my direction, he said nothing to me before he left.

  An hour later, Lucy strode in with a box of past issues of the years in question. “They were in the attic,” Lucy said. “But they have a great system for keeping track of items. Some computer program called Past Perfect. She said we could keep them as long as we need.” She set the box on the floor near the work table. “Let’s all look at these together, since someone thought they were important.”

  Yolanda came out of her office.

  I saved my work on the computer and then bent over the yellowing pages.

  “My,” Yolanda repeated with each new paragraph. “Jim had just started working with his folks here at the Gazette. Even then he had an eye for a story.”

  I turned another page. “How are things going with his treatment?”

  “I spoke with the doctor a while ago,” Yolanda replied. “I could take him home today.” Her eyes lit on her granddaughter. “Except for the bundle of energy we have to deal with. He could never stand that. I needed to ask for another day’s extension.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Jenny’s daddy will pick her up tomorrow. Then I can get Jim.”

  I lowered my voice too. “Why don’t you let me take her tonight? She can have a slumber party with all of us. I have a little trundle bed in my room she could use.”

  “Oh, that’s too much—would you?”

  The tired lines around Yolanda’s eyes worried me. “Unless you’re too tired yourself to take care of Jim.”

  “I think that would be great fun,” Sonja said, making it clear she’d overheard. “Why don’t we take her with us when we leave? We’ll go pick up her bag from your place and get a hamburger, since Ivy has to go get a replacement driver’s license.”

  We finalized the plans in hushed tones until Jenny glared at us. Being tossed around from father to mother to grandparent must be unsettling to the five-year-old.

  Yolanda took the little girl on her lap. “How would you like to go stay at Ivy’s house tonight? With Sonja and Lucy?”

  Jenny wasn’t sure. She pouted and crossed her little arms. “And Memnet?”

  “Yes,” the little girl’s grandma assured her. “Just for tonight. So I can get Grandpa home.”

  “OK. What will we play?”

  Once Jenny’s question was satisfied by the girls, we went back to work.

  Sonja noticed the photograph first. “Hey, everyone. Look at this.” We gathered around to peer at a grainy black and white pose of the high school debate team.

  Yolanda squinted at the page. “Apple Grove and Westward High joined forces, as neither of them had enough kids to make a good team.”

  Sonja pointed to a figure. “The kid standing next to Donald appears an awful lot like him. Are they related, do you think?”

  Yolanda stared at the caption. “Of course. Donald’s aunt, his mother’s sister, lives in Colby, where Westward is. Her maiden name was—”

  “Grimm,” Elvis read.

  “Yes,” Yolanda said. “Abigail Grimm. So, Ronny there is Donald’s cousin. His mother never married, so the whole situation was kept hushed.”

  “That wouldn’t happen to be the same as Letty Grimm, would it?” I asked.

  “Ronald is, or was, married to Letty,” Yolanda told us.

  “The same woman who is the mayor’s wife’s assistant?” Elvis asked.

  “Oh, boy,” Sonja said.

  Not just any “oh, boy.” That must have been the guy at Donald’s house that day Adam and I visited…before we found…him.

  Lucy held up another later issue. “That’s not all. That picture was high school. This is not.” She held the society section from summertime, six years later. “Get a load of the mayor’s wedding picture.”

  “Um, folks,” Elvis said, after an intense study. “Check out the best man.”

  In twenty-odd years, Jeff Hanley had not changed all that much.

  12

  Jeff Hanley, the vice president of the State’s Bank branch in Apple Grove where the city government did business, had been Donald’s best man at his wedding. Donald’s cousin’s wife was Margaret’s as
sistant. Adam thought Donald had no living family. What happened to Letty’s husband? Had he been the man at the window of Donald’s house? The information flickered like lightning across my neurons. What had Donald been up to? I decided not to say anything yet, until I’d spoken to Adam. “Yolanda,” I asked, “Did Ronny Grimm pass away?”

  “I don’t recall,” she replied, frowning.

  “So, where do we go from here?” Lucy asked. “How do all these bits fit into our puzzle?”

  “Hanley’s on the city council.” Elvis got up to pace across the floor in front of the counter. “He’s one of few people who knew about, and presumably could access, the grant money.”

  Besides being one of the partners backing Adam Thompson. That must mean Hanley had money to invest. But was it his own, or did he use some of the grant money? Elvis knew about Adam’s business deal.

  “Elvis?” I hated to ask. “Please tell me what, exactly, you know about Mea Cuppa’s Apple Grove store. And the partners.”

  Elvis sneaked a peek at Sonja.

  Sonja shrugged permission.

  He regained his seat at the work table. “I happened to run across some papers in Adam’s office to indicate that he had partners.”

  I felt a temper tantrum coming on. “I heard Lucy say ‘Hanley, Stewart, and the mayor’ the other night. Where do you think they got the money?”

  Yolanda snorted. That was not a good sign.

  My shoulder muscles tensed.

  “I think it was a personal business arrangement.” Elvis leaned his arm backward over his chair. He twisted his head to stare out the clean front window through the large red, backward lettering proclaiming “ettezaG.”

  “What else did you notice about the papers in Adam’s private office?”

  He flinched at my tone.

  Sonja began to rattle the books in front of her.

  Yolanda hustled to the counter to pull out a notebook and pen. “Taxes, taxes…” she mumbled.

  Elvis stared at me. “Why don’t you talk to Adam about this?” When I didn’t reply, he resignedly said, “What I understood about the agreement was that, if the business earned a net profit of at least fifteen percent of the investment and Mr. Thompson wanted to pull out after a year, he’d take the profits and the others would take over the business.”

  “Thank you.” I stood.

  Yolanda, in full reporter mode, flipped open her ever-ready notebook.

  “I have some things to take care of,” I told them. “Yolanda, I’ll be back later to finish the page I was on.”

  She barely acknowledged me before beginning a question and answer session with the students.

  It was time to meet Adam, so he could take me to get a replacement driver’s license. For the first time since laying my eyes on the handsome but scarred man at the CAT convention, I was apprehensive about being with him. I did not like feeling that way at all. I checked my watch. I had a few minutes, so I decided to call the one person I was sure I could trust. “Mom?”

  “Yes, dear.” Her tinny voice came through the miniscule receiver I tucked against my ear. “I’m walking through the quad to my next class. What’s up?”

  I squeezed the tears to the back of my eyeballs. “We have some new information. Donald had a cousin whose wife is Margaret’s assistant. Then the students found a photograph that showed Donald’s best man was the vice president of the bank. And my purse was stolen.” And I’m so naïve. And the love of my life is a liar.

  “Oh, darling. I’m so sorry. Do you need me to come up this weekend? Do you need any money?”

  I choked back a gurgly laugh. “No, Mom. Everything’s all right. It was just my little coin purse. I’m sure you’ll have a good conversation with the students this evening.”

  “Yes.” She sounded a bit breathless as she walked. She must be in a hurry. “They’ve been amassing some good field experience. Placing them in Apple Grove is turning out to be a suitable work site. I might have to set up a regular program. But did you make out a police report for your purse? Or did they catch the thief?”

  “Yes and no. You’re busy. I won’t keep you,” I said.

  “That’s all right, dear. I’m sure you can rely on your friends and Adam for support.”

  “Um, right. Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Big breath in. Out. That’s it. Adam and Colleen greeted me when I reached Mea Cuppa. I made myself smile at them before I followed Adam out back where he kept his truck.

  “Did you uncover any huge secrets at the Gazette?” he asked once we were underway.

  “As a matter of fact, we did.” I tried to act naturally while I told him about the photographs and Letty’s relationship to the Conklins. And about the look-alike cousin. “That must have been him at the window that first day we went to visit the house and Letty answered the door.” My lips ranneth over.

  “Makes sense. I wonder why Donald didn’t mention his cousin? So, does anyone know if Letty’s husband is alive and where he might be now?”

  “Yolanda says she never kept track what happened to him, or if he’s alive or not.”

  “Let’s assume he is, then. If Margaret and Letty had some kind of plot going on, it would make sense to keep him out of sight.”

  “Until they want to use him,” I said. I wanted to believe Adam knew nothing about Ronald Grimm. I could be convinced that meant he wasn’t in on the plot with Hanley.

  “Use him? It’s not any of our business who his wife hires as her personal assistant.”

  “You’re right. Unless he was the guy who threatened us that night outside of city hall after the meeting. Or the guy who’s been in my house and hurt my cat.”

  “We don’t have any proof of that,” he said.

  Why would Adam defend the bad guys all of a sudden? I decided I didn’t want to go down that road.

  He pulled into the parking lot of the Department of Motor Vehicles office, narrowly avoiding a grinning teenager with a dazed-looking passenger who peeled out of his spot, radio blasting. “Must be Mom next to him.” Adam laughed. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

  The lot was full, and I figured it could be a long wait. I wouldn’t bring up the questions I needed to ask him in a public place. “It’s crowded. I might have to wait in line.”

  He nodded. I left him sitting there, legs stretched out and catalog in hand.

  A half-hour later, when I returned, Adam hadn’t even changed position. I had done some soul searching while I stood in line. I admitted an over-active and ultra-sensitive personality. He could not possibly have had anything to do with Donald’s death. Donald had respected Adam enough to invite him to Apple Grove. If nothing else, Donald’s endorsement was all I needed. I forgave Adam for my delusions. “Hi, there. That wasn’t so bad. Thanks so much for bringing me. I owe you lunch.”

  He waited while I buckled up. “Sounds good. Show me your picture.”

  I groaned but held up my new license. He didn’t laugh. “You take a pretty picture, Miss Preston.”

  Drat. I had just worked up the courage to ask about his business arrangement.

  “Do you have a little time?” Adam asked me now. “I’ve never been down to that little park we passed. Have you?”

  “No.”

  He turned off the road to drive down a steeply pitched entrance to a small county park along the Founders River. A bubbly gurgle of water splashed along the shallow riverbed a couple of miles out of town. Rusty oak leaves framed a brilliant sky. A crop of dandelion wisps floated lazily over the sparkly water, creating a scene from one of those vintage Americana paintings.

  We stood at the edge of the bank, watching ripples form across a wide mossy rock.

  He skipped a stone across the narrow expanse and it landed on the other side. “I suspect you wanted to ask me something,” Adam said, his back to me. “Something about Mea Cuppa, I believe?”

  He couldn’t have caught my muse more neatly than if he’d cast with a baited hook and line. I paced a few s
teps to perch on a faded green picnic table. I folded my hands between my knees. Might as well get it all out now. “Elvis said that you had backers. That you were offered incentives to establish a coffee shop in Apple Grove.”

  Adam tossed another stone directly to the other side of the river before coming to stand next to me. “Weren’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Ivy. Donald helped you get your house and paid for the multiple utility feeds coming in. He even hustled through a zoning code exception, so you could run your business in a residential area.”

  He had a point.

  “What about your partners?” I asked. “Where did the money come from? Did they dig into the money Donald was awarded? Is that why you know so much about it?”

  Adam sat next to me and thumped the wooden seat. “Ivy! Is that what you think? I’m ‘in’ on this big plot to take over Apple Grove?”

  I could not look at him. I stared at an ant carrying a huge crumb across the width of the table. I wiped a tear and blew my nose. And I was glad to bury my face in Adam’s shirtfront when he pulled me roughly into his embrace.

  “Ivy, Ivy. Everything will be all right.”

  “What’s going on? I don’t understand any of this. Why would anyone hate us without even getting to know us?”

  “It’s called prejudice, honey. And it’s caused every day by people who have shame, secrets, greed, and fear.”

  “I’m so afraid.” I cried harder, shaking.

  “So’m I. That’s why I asked you how you felt about living here.”

  “El-Elvis sa-said you were supposed to stay a year.”

  Adam laughed. “Where’d he hear that?”

  “He saw it on the same paperwork with your partner’s names.”

  “Look, Ivy. Donald knew I owned a successful book and coffeehouse franchise already started in the city. He approached me about setting up another shop in Apple Grove. Apple Grove is small, a potentially unprofitable market for me. I never would have considered it but for Donald contracting with me so that I wouldn’t lose money on the deal. He had this prime downtown space already, as well as investors for the equipment and stock.” Adam drew back to meet my eyes before speaking again.