“Hmm.” Grammie turned off the burner. “I hope the autopsy tells us more.”
“Me too.” My phone, which was sitting on the island, buzzed with an incoming message. I crossed the floor to see who would text me this late.
Justice is done, it said. So let sleeping dogs lie.
CHAPTER 17
I squinted at the message, shook my head and read it again. It still said the same thing. I checked the sender. Not a number I recognized.
“What’s the matter?” Grammie asked. She set a mug of milk beside my elbow. “You get one of those sexts?”
Milk spewed from my mouth onto the counter. “Eww. No.” I used a napkin to wipe up the mess. “But I did get a strange message. Here, take a look.”
Pursing her lips, she studied the message. “Hmm. What are they talking about? The fact that Elliot is dead?”
I picked up the mug again and took another sip, gathering my thoughts. “Maybe. If it’s the same person, then it sounds like they blamed Elliot for Star’s death. Now he’s dead, so case closed.”
She tapped a finger on the countertop. “But in that case, they should have left it alone. Justice is done, period. This makes me wonder which dogs need to be woken up.”
Quincy was napping on the adjacent stool, and at the word dog, his head popped up. I rubbed his chin. “No dogs here, Quince.” To Grammie, I said, “That’s a good point. I suppose it could be a second mysterious messenger, in which case, maybe they thought Elliot should die for another reason. Like his nefarious business dealings.” I loved that word, nefarious. “Or getting involved with Charlotte. If he was.”
Grammie wrinkled her nose. “Eww, right back at you. I never understood why he acted like such a fool. Not only is Nancy brilliant and beautiful, she had all the money. The Parkers burned through theirs generations ago.”
“Yeah, he’d be dumb to mess that up.” Elliot might be descended from one of the town’s founding families, but he was basically a big idiot, as well as sleazy and no doubt crooked. Had been, I meant to say. I still wasn’t used to the fact that he was gone. Someone else would be collecting our rent from now on. If we opened the store.
Anxiety started to grind in my belly again, and I drank some hot milk to try and smother it. Milk was good for ulcers, right?
“Okay,” I said, taking back the phone. “I’m forwarding this text to Anton. Maybe their tech department can trace it to the sender.”
Grammie shook her head. “Doubt it. Probably one of those burner phones.” At my look of surprise, she added, “That’s what I’d do. Who would use their real phone?”
“Good point.” I put the phone aside. “After I finish my milk, I’m heading to bed. Busy day tomorrow.” Even though we couldn’t get into the building, I still had plenty on my to-do list. Going to see Ted. Painting the shelving. Following up on threatening messages with the police chief. Just an ordinary day in Blueberry Cove.
* * *
A yowl followed by a crash woke me in the middle of the night. My first move was to feel for Quincy beside me on the bed but he wasn’t there. The little stinker must have slipped outside again. Usually he joined me—after I fell asleep. Cats are funny that way.
Another crash echoed, followed by a thump. Uh-oh. I jumped out of bed and raced into my office, which overlooked the backyard. My first thought was that a bear was rampaging around the property. They could do a lot of damage when looking for food.
I couldn’t see anything, but then Quincy yowled again, followed by a hiss that made my hair stand on end. I’d better get him inside before he ended up tussling with a wild animal. He took his guardianship duties of our property very seriously.
I pushed my feet into sneakers and ran for the stairs. Grammie cracked her bedroom door. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a bear. And Quincy is out so I’ve got to get him back inside.”
Grammie put a hand to her mouth. “I think he got past me when I went out to turn off the sprinkler before bed. I thought I saw him, but when I called he didn’t come.”
He probably hid. “He’s a tricky one.” I clattered down the stairs, hoping he would listen to me, since I had no intention of confronting a wild animal. Downstairs, I flipped on the kitchen light and grabbed a flashlight off the counter.
But before venturing out, I turned on the yard light and looked out the mudroom door, just in case a bear was lurking.
Nothing moved. I listened so hard my ears rang. Still nothing.
I switched on the flashlight and stepped outside. Swung the beam around the yard.
The barn door was pushed all the way open.
A wave of cold shock slapped me and I took an instinctive step backward.
A bear hadn’t done that. Someone was here, on our property.
The killer?
Running footsteps crunched on gravel and I crept back against the house. Where was he? I couldn’t see anyone.
Then, down on the road, an engine roared to life.
He was gone. I slumped in relief, the adrenaline draining away and leaving me limp.
A sheepish-looking cat padded into view. “You naughty boy,” I said. But he’d tried to defend us against a prowler, right? I scooped him up and gave him a kiss. “You know what? Never mind. You’re the best.” The poor thing blinked at me in confusion. “Come on, let’s go call the cops.”
As we entered, Grammie came into the kitchen, tying her robe. “You find out what was out there?”
I was already dialing 911 on the landline, since my cell was upstairs. “Yeah, a person, not an animal. They were in the barn. But they ran off and drove away before I saw who it was. So I’m calling the police.”
Grammie sank onto a stool, confusion shadowing her eyes. “But why? What were they looking for?”
I wanted to know that myself. But I wasn’t going to check out the barn until we had backup.
By the time the kettle boiled, Anton was wheeling the police SUV into the yard. “We’re going to have to put you on speed dial,” I said, greeting him at the mudroom door.
He gave me a look. “I hope not. For your sake, not mine.” He rested his hands on his hips. “Understand you had an intruder.”
I pointed. “Yes, in the barn. They were crashing around in there and woke me up. Well, that and Quincy screeching.” Quincy came out and wove around Anton’s ankles. “Then I heard them run down the driveway and take off in a car.”
Anton bent to pat the cat. “Have you been in there yet?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t want to disturb anything so I waited.” Plus I was scared, to be honest. No way would I go in there alone.
Anton gave the cat a last pat and straightened. “Let’s check it out.”
At the barn door, he asked, “It was left like this?” meaning open. When I nodded, he stepped inside, and putting on gloves, flicked on the overhead light, revealing chaos. The motorcycle Papa had been restoring now lay on its side, various parts and tools scattered around. The prowler must have barreled right into it.
“That must be what I heard,” I said, pointing to the motorcycle. “He was stumbling around like a bull in a china shop.”
Anton glanced around. “Anything missing?”
I folded my arms, shivering against the chilly breeze coming through the open door. “I can’t tell. I suppose I might be able to after I clean up.” I rubbed both my upper arms, trying to warm up. “Do you really think they were after automotive tools?”
“Maybe. We’ve had break-ins around town where people take whatever they can carry.” His brow furrowed. “Is there anything especially valuable out here?”
Only the contents of Papa’s desk. And we weren’t even sure exactly what it held. I explained that to Anton, who followed me into the workshop. When I turned on the light and saw the desk still looked intact, I finally exhaled. What had I been expecting—that the would-be thief took an ax to it? Maybe.
Anton examined the desk lock. “It looks okay.” He pushed up on the r
olltop, careful to touch the outer edges, instead of in the middle. It didn’t budge. “Still locked.”
A knot released in my stomach. The desk’s contents were safe. “Quincy must have scared him away before he did much,” I said. First thing tomorrow, I would ask Ian and Jake to carry the desk—too heavy for Grammie and me—into the house. The prowler could still break in there, of course, but it would be more difficult.
We’d also start securing the barn. The old adage “lock the barn door after the horse is stolen” ran through my head. How terribly appropriate, even if my cat had stopped a thief.
* * *
Mid-morning, my phone beeped with a text. Ian and Jake were on their way over, since Jake had finished pulling traps early. While I waited for them to arrive, I called Ted Perkins and made an appointment to see the linens in a couple of hours. I also texted Madison in hopes she could come along, then grab a late lunch with me downtown. After overhearing his argument with Elliot, I had placed Ted high on my list of suspects, and it didn’t seem wise to visit a potential murder suspect alone.
Soon Ian’s truck was pulling up the drive, Jake in the passenger seat. Quincy and I waited outside the back door while they parked and got out.
“Hey, Iris,” Ian said, looking around at the gardens, the pergola, and the patio. “Nice place.” Now that flowers were blooming and the grass was turning green, the yard did look good.
“Grammie and Papa did a great job restoring this place.” I led the way across the driveway toward the barn. “Thanks for coming over so quickly.” I unlocked the barn door and pulled it open.
Jake whistled when he saw the antique BMW motorcycle. “Cool ride.” Anton had helped me pick it up off the floor but parts and tools were still scattered around. He had also dusted for prints but the prowler had apparently worn gloves.
I felt compelled to explain. “Papa didn’t leave the barn like this. We had an intruder last night and they knocked the bike over.”
Ian’s brows skyrocketed. “An intruder?”
Jake was equally alarmed. “You mean someone broke in?”
“In the middle of the night. Quincy scared them off.” The cat had followed us into the barn and was now climbing the ladder to the loft. The men sent him amused looks.
“Good boy, Quince,” Ian said. “Way to go.”
“Did they get anything?” Jake asked.
“We don’t think so, but we filed a report with the police anyway.” I picked my way across the floor toward the workshop. “But that’s why I wanted you to come over. We need to move Papa’s desk into the house. I don’t want anyone messing with it.” Again.
Ian and Jake studied the desk, testing its weight by lifting it, one on each end. “I’ve got a dolly in the truck,” Ian said. “I think we’re gonna need it.”
While Ian fetched the dolly, Jake and I cleared a path, moving obstacles aside. “I heard the news about Elliot,” Jake said. “I can’t believe we saw him just before, at the meeting.”
I picked up a sawhorse and lined it up against the wall. “I know. I’m still stunned.” Jake was a friend, and although I was dying to discuss the murder with him, now wasn’t the time.
Probably feeling the same way, he dropped the subject, instead running an appreciative hand over the motorbike’s chrome fender and handlebars, which fortunately hadn’t been damaged in the fall. “She’s a beauty. You going to finish fixing her up?”
“Me?” I laughed. “No, I wouldn’t know where to begin. This was Papa’s hobby bike.” I supposed we should sell it, but with it mostly torn apart, we wouldn’t get much.
Ian, who was pushing the dolly into the barn, overheard this last. “I could take a stab at it, if you want. I rebuilt the Ford engine myself.”
“That’s generous, but…” My voice trailed off. What would his time cost? With launching the store, cash was really tight. The bike wasn’t a priority right now.
“Let me take a look, see what needs to be done,” Ian said. “I might be able to donate my time. Looks like he had all the parts already.”
Standing with his arms crossed, weight shifted to one hip, Jake was grinning ear to ear. When I caught his teasing gaze, I knew exactly what he was thinking. Could it be true, that Ian was trying to do something nice for me, as in he liked me? As a woman, not just a friend? My cheeks were burning when I said, “That’s really nice of you. Please do look it over and then we’ll talk.”
Using the dolly, they made short work of getting the desk loaded and moved into the house. In the living room, Grammie and I had shifted a side table from under a window to make room.
“We did it.” Ian patted the top of the desk once it was in place. “Even managed to keep it in one piece.”
“There was a time or two when I thought it was going over,” Jake said with a chuckle. “But we saved it.”
Grammie gave them each a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without my strong boys.” She pressed Ian’s hand in hers. “You got time for a cup of coffee and a brownie before you take off?”
Oh, the prerogatives of being a grandmother. I settled for vocalizing my thanks as we adjourned to the kitchen. We ended up on the back porch, mugs and brownies in hand. While Jake chatted with Grammie about the recent lobster catch and prices, Ian turned to me. “Remember how my grandfather was in a band with yours?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said. “I’ve been meaning to ask, is Fergus still with us?”
His gaze dropped to the mug he held cradled in both hands. “Nope. He died a few years ago. I wish I’d had more time with the old guy. He was a good buddy of mine.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I feel the same way about my grandfather.” I’d been blessed to have such a wonderful man as Joe Buckley in my life. And it sounded like Fergus had also been a treasure. Guilt squirmed in my gut. In the hope of keeping my grandfather off the suspect list, I had brought Ian’s to Detective Varney’s attention. Gosh, how awful of me.
“Both of them gone too soon.” Ian set the mug down and reached into his jeans pocket. “Seeing that old poster at the shop inspired me to look through his papers. I was hoping I’d find something else from the band days.”
“And you did?” I crammed the last bite of brownie into my mouth and wiped my fingers on a napkin, so I could take the photograph he was handing me. It was a snapshot of a couple, heads close together as they smiled at the camera. I easily recognized Fergus—and the woman. Star Moonshine.
CHAPTER 18
“That’s Star,” I said. “The girl who was murdered.” Did this prove that Fergus had been involved with Star, as Gary said? Was Fergus responsible for her death? Overhearing my comment, Grammie and Jake turned toward us. With a may I gesture to Ian, I passed the photograph over to Grammie.
Ian’s eyes darkened. “That’s what I thought, after seeing her picture in the paper. It certainly isn’t my grandmother, Louise.”
Grammie studied the picture, Jake leaning over to look. “I remember now. Fergus dated Star for a short time,” she said, confirming that detail at least. Her tone was gentle. “But it was way before he met Louise. She was the love of his life.”
Ian accepted the photograph back. “That’s what I always heard. It was just a bit … disconcerting to come across this.” He gave a short laugh. “But of course Grandpa had a life before he got married and had my dad.” He slid the picture into his back pocket.
“It’s hard to believe us old folks were young once,” Grammie said. “Especially if you know us only in the role of parent and grandparent.”
She was right. And no doubt this tunnel vision meant there were whole sides of people we never saw. Papa being in a band, for instance. I’d seen that poster a million times but it never sank in that he had been a cool guy. I only knew him as the kind, smart, mechanically minded grandfather who sneaked me extra treats behind Grammie’s back.
Ian picked up his mug again and drank the last of his coffee. “We’d better get on the road, Jake. Dad is waiting fo
r me at the inn.” Still holding his mug, he stood and reached for Jake’s, planning to carry them inside, I guessed. How polite.
“Leave them out here,” I said. “Thanks again for coming over and helping us.”
Ian put the mugs down on the side table. “No problem.” He stared down at me, gnawing at his bottom lip, as if wondering what to say. “Hang in there, Iris. And keep me posted, okay? I’ll clear my schedule whenever you can get back into the store.”
“I’ll do that. And I really appreciate it.” And I did. One thing was certain, Ian was in our corner, someone to depend upon. For now. Until he found out I squealed about his grandfather to the police and told them he had a key to my store. Well, I hadn’t done the second thing yet but needed to.
Heaping on the guilt even more, though he didn’t know it, Ian added, “And let me know about the BMW. I meant what I said.”
“Thanks. I will.” His second offer convinced me he did mean it. Was Jake right? Was his interest more than neighborly? He wouldn’t feel that way long. Just my luck.
As the truck engine started with a throaty roar, Grammie asked, “What was that about? Does he want to buy the BMW?”
I shook my head. “No, he wants to put it back together for me. For us. Free.” I waved to Ian and Jake as the truck ambled past, hoping my smile looked normal.
Before Grammie could comment, another vehicle rumbled up the drive, and Gary Ball’s delivery truck pulled up. Unexpected but welcome. “Oh good, they’re delivering my purchases.” I stood and set my mug on the table. “Want to see what I bought for the store?”
The two burly helpers unloaded the huge bookcase and two hutch tops into the barn, on top of tarps spread on the old boards. I planned to work on them out here, where there was plenty of room and fresh air.
“We’re displaying inventory in those?” Grammie sniffed. “They look like they’re fit for the dump.”
“Wait and see,” I said. “When I’m done painting them and we add shutters and windows, they are going to be gorgeous.”
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