We remained in our seats as people filed out. “You’re looking lovely, my dear,” Celia said to Laura. “Positively radiant.”
Laura’s pregnancy wasn’t showing yet, but her skin was glowing, and her fair hair was thick and glossy.
“I’m three months’ pregnant,” she said, looking pleased with herself.
Celia blinked, but showed no other sign of surprise. “A new life is always a blessing.” She turned to me. “You’ll be a grandmother, Pat.”
I could have given her an earful. Instead I said, “Around Christmas, I’ve been told.”
Celia put an arm around Laura. “Fine time of year for a child to be born.” Then she turned to me. “Bruce looks badly shaken.”
“And the police are questioning him,” I said. “He was alone in The Times newsroom when Vi went missing at Highland Ridge. And he comes into her share of Ted’s estate.”
“So he’s a suspect.” There was worry in her eyes. “Will he hold up under the stress? I hope he hasn’t started drinking again.”
I pictured Bruce’s haggard face. “He was doing well until this happened. He seemed happy at The Times, and he was thinking of buying a home. But now…”
She nodded. “I’ll talk to him.”
She hurried to the side door that Bruce and Andy had taken. Laura and I left the chapel by its main doors, and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
Foster approached us as soon as we entered the lounge. “Well, Ms. Tierney, another funeral.”
“They’re customary when someone dies,” I said. “And when the cause of death is murder, the investigating officer attends.”
The hint of a smile crinkled the skin around his eyes, but it vanished when Bruce and Celia came into the room. “Excuse me,” he said.
I felt a flash of irritation as he approached them. Couldn’t he have left Bruce alone on the day of his mother’s funeral?
Laura and I joined the queue at the buffet table. The red-haired woman in front of us turned around. “Did you know Vi Stohl?” she asked us.
“We didn’t know her,” I said, “but her son’s a friend.”
“We found her.” She inclined her head toward the dark-haired man at her side.
“Found her?” Laura asked.
“Rolled up in a rug in the storage locker,” the man said.
“I’m Crystal King,” the woman said, “and this is Jock Deighton, my guy.”
Before I could introduce myself and Laura, Crystal launched into the story of how they’d purchased the locker’s contents and found Vi’s body. “Creepiest thing that ever happened to me. We find all kinds of things in storage lockers, but I never thought…”
“Been following it on the news,” Jock put in. “Thought we’d come up here and pay our respects.”
“We haven’t got the goods we bought yet,” Crystal grumbled. “The cops are still holding onto them.”
“It’s been less than a week,” I said. “The police will no doubt turn them over to you soon.”
When we’d filled our plates, Jock invited us to join them at a table. I couldn’t think of a polite way to refuse. “We’d like to pay our respects to Mrs. Stohl’s son,” Jock said when we were seated. “You said he’s a friend of yours.”
“We heard he runs the newspaper here,” Crystal said. “Maybe he could do an article on how we found his mother. And mention our shop in Newmarket.”
I jumped in to stop her. “Bruce isn’t working today. You saw how shaken he was at the service.”
“Bruce is the guy who put the flower on the table?” Crystal asked.
“Let him have the rest of the day to remember his mother,” I said.
But my heart sank as I saw Celia and Bruce heading in our direction. “May we join you?” Celia asked.
I nodded, and Bruce sat down beside me. “I’ll get some sandwiches,” Celia said, and went over to the buffet.
I introduced Bruce to Crystal and Jock, and hoped for the best.
“We bought the contents of the locker where your mom was found,” Crystal announced to Bruce.
There was no stopping her. “Jock picked up a rolled-up rug, and a body fell out of it. Scared me out of my boots.”
Jock gripped her wrist. “We’re real sorry for your loss, Mr. Stohl.”
Bruce had turned pale, and a film of sweat glistened on his upper lip.
“You’ll have to excuse us,” I said. “Bruce isn’t feeling well.” I rose from my seat and motioned for Bruce to get up.
We met Celia coming toward us with two plates in her hands. “We need to get Bruce away from those two,” I whispered to her.
“We’ll sit with the Campbells.” She led us to the table where Soupy and his parents were eating.
“Bruce,” Lainey said, “that was a lovely service.”
As Bruce sat down with the Campbells, Foster approached Celia and took her aside.
I returned to Laura, Crystal and Jock. “You upset Bruce,” I said as I sat down.
“Crystal sometimes gets carried away,” Jock said.
She scowled at him and turned to me. “Laura was telling us that the locker was rented by a Frank Prentice.”
I nudged Laura’s leg with my foot. “Ever heard of him?” I asked Crystal and Jock.
They both shook their heads. “We don’t know nobody in these parts,” Jock said. “Thursday was the first time we been up here. We saw the auction advertised on a newsletter we subscribe to, and Crystal thought we might find some farm antiques. From now on, we’ll keep to the south of the province.”
“We’ll go wherever the money is, big boy,” Crystal said.
“Frank Prentice is dead,” Laura said.
Crystal and Jock looked surprised, but I watched them carefully.
“That’s why he wasn’t payin’ the rent,” Jock said.
“Any connection to Vi being killed?” Crystal asked.
“Frank didn’t kill her, if that’s what you mean,” Laura said. “He died eight weeks ago, but we don’t know how he died.”
I gave her a harder kick under the table. Crystal and Jock didn’t need to know all this. “You went through some of the locker’s contents before you found the body,” I said to them. “What was in there?”
“Christmas decorations, old photos, tablecloths, doilies,” Jock said. “Really disappointing.”
“There was a box of old comic books that might be worth something,” Crystal said. “I hope the police will let us take it back with us.”
“I wouldn’t count on it, babe,” Jock said.
Foster came up to us. “I’d like a word with Ms. King and Mr. Deighton,” he said. “A private word.”
Laura and I got up. “You think Crystal and Jock killed Vi?” she asked me as we crossed the room.
“No. They paid nine hundred dollars for the contents of the locker. They wouldn’t have done that if they’d put her in there.”
“Maybe the murderer wanted the body to be found.”
That was something I hadn’t thought of. I was pondering that possibility when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Celia beside me.
“I’d like to spend the day with Bruce,” she said, “but I have to get back to North Bay. I’ll come down for a weekend later in the summer.”
“Where is Bruce?” I asked.
“Over there.” She pointed to the doorway where he was talking to a small group of people. I recognized George Packard, The Times’ business manager.
I looked at the table where the Campbells had been sitting, but they were gone. A lot of people had left. Their curiosity more or less satisfied, they’d returned to their routines.
“Let’s hang with Bruce today,” Laura said to me. “You don’t have to go into work. The branch has a new manager.”
It was a good idea. Bruce would have our company, and Laura could focus on something other than her problems. And Nate didn’t need my help to look over his new accounts. “I’ll have a quick word with Nate,” I said. “I’ll meet you
and Bruce here in 20 minutes.”
I gave Celia a hug. “What did Foster want?”
“He asked what I was doing last Wednesday afternoon.” She grinned. “Told him I was working with the criminally insane.”
Nate was in his office with a prospective client. “Her name’s Tess Watson,” Ivy told me.
“Missed her by a whisker,” Soupy said with a frown on his face. “Got back here moments after Nate lured her into his den.”
“You and Nate are on the same team,” I said. “If Ms. Watson brings us her business, she’ll probably spread the word. Her family and friends may become your clients.”
Soupy shrugged. “Meanwhile, Nate pockets commissions on everything he sells her.”
I’d had enough from him. “Soupy, you’re twenty-eight years old and about to get married. Will you start acting like a professional?”
His nostrils flaring, he turned and stalked down the hall to his office.
Ivy gave me a “what can you do?” look. I scribbled a note for Nate and handed it to her.
Bruce and Laura were waiting in Morrison’s lobby. Bruce looked better than he had at the service. Chatting with people had done him good. Over the past few months, he’d made friends at the newspaper and in the township, although no one seemed to have thought of keeping him company that day.
“Why don’t we check out that property you’ve been looking at?” I said brightly.
He nodded, but without much enthusiasm.
“Rosso Realty has the listing?” I asked.
“Yup,” he said. “It’s on Raven Lake.”
“Let’s see if your dream home is still on the market.”
Laura took his arm. “Raven Lake, that’s a cool name. I love that poem where the raven keeps saying, ‘Nevermore’.”
“Edgar Allen Poe’s ‘The Raven’,” Bruce said.
Laura smiled at him. “It’s an awesome poem.”
I followed them down Main Street, amused by Laura’s sudden interest in helping Bruce. Kyle had probably forgotten my advice and was pushing marriage again. Pushing Laura away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rosso Realty operated out of a storefront between Danny’s Butcher Shop and Braeloch Bread and Buns. A young woman with pink-and-green hair was seated behind a desk in the small office. “I couldn’t get over to your mom’s funeral,” she said to Bruce. “I’m real sorry for your loss.”
He acknowledged her condolence with a bob of his head. Then he introduced us to Amy Perkins. “I’d like to show them the Raven Lake property,” he added.
“That’s a great place,” she said. “A family in Toronto is coming up to see it on Saturday.”
It was the oldest sales trick in the book, but Bruce swallowed it. “D’you think we could go over now?” He sounded worried.
Amy looked at her watch. “My colleague will be here in fifteen minutes. I’ll drive you over then.”
“Bruce, why don’t you change into something comfortable?” I said. “We’ll meet you here in fifteen.”
Bruce left for the hotel, and I turned to Amy. “Why is the owner selling?”
“She’s a retired teacher who spent summers at the cabin for years. But she says it’s become too much work for her.”
Laura and I went into the bakery next door. We took the bagels we bought over to the Volvo. Bruce was back at Rosso Realty when we returned, dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
Amy took us to the gray minivan she’d parked on Main Street. As soon as we’d left Braeloch, she delivered her sales pitch. I tuned her out and took in the countryside from the window beside me. Laura stuffed her iBuds into her ears.
Ten minutes down the highway, we pulled onto a side road. A mile or so down that, we turned into a lane. “The roads are plowed all winter, but you’d have to clear this lane yourself,” Amy said. “A snow blower would do the job.”
“This place is heaven,” Laura said as we pulled up in front of a log house that overlooked a sparkling blue lake.
“Neighbors on both sides, permanent residents on the south side,” Amy said. “You can’t see their homes now with the trees in leaf.”
It was a great location. On one of the prime lakes in the township. A fifteen-minute drive into town. Privacy, but with people nearby.
The cabin had two tiny bedrooms, a living and dining room, and a kitchen. The windows were small, which made the interior dark on that sunny afternoon. The cabin’s best feature was a fieldstone fireplace that took up much of a living room wall.
Bruce ran a hand over the fireplace stones. The haggardness had left his face, and his eyes looked dreamy.
“Is the furniture included?” I asked Amy.
“All included. The owner has already taken the items she wanted. What you see is what you get.”
The furniture wasn’t fancy. An old leather sofa and a matching armchair, a wooden table and four chairs, and beds and battered dressers in the bedrooms. But it would suit Bruce just fine. He didn’t want Ted’s furniture.
“How is the house heated?” I asked Amy.
“There’s the fireplace,” she said, “and a wood-burning stove in the kitchen.”
“You can’t stay here in the winter,” I told Bruce.
“Maybe not this winter,” he said, looking out the window at the lake, “but I can have the crawl space under the house dug out and a furnace put in.”
I was about to point out how expensive that would be, but one glance at him stopped me. He looked relaxed, content, at home. And he would come into considerable money when Ted’s estate was settled. He could probably afford a home in town, and this place for the summer.
“It’s a great place, Bruce,” Laura said. “You can fix it up as you go. Are you good at that?”
“I can do a fair bit. What I can’t, I’ll pay to have done over time.”
“This place is a steal,” Amy put in. “It’s on a lovely lake and it will only increase in value.”
“I’ll repair the chinking between the logs this summer,” Bruce said. “Mice have got in. I saw droppings in the cupboard under the sink.”
I winced, wondering what the mice situation would be like at the cottage I’d rented.
“Nothing a few mousetraps won’t fix,” Amy said.
Outside, we stopped at the top of a steep flight of stone steps to look at Raven Lake, which was dotted with white sails that afternoon. Bruce led us down the steps to a pebble beach.
“You gotta buy this place, Bruce!” Laura cried.
Amy beamed at her.
“I’ll need a canoe,” Bruce said.
“And a raft,” Laura added.
He had clearly made up his mind, and his happy face swept away any doubts that I had. When Amy headed up the steps, I took him aside. “Come to a decision?”
“I’m going to make an offer when we get back to town.” He told me the listing price. It sounded reasonable, but I suggested he come in a little under that.
“And make your offer contingent on a professional property inspection,” I added. “You need to know what you’re up against. Faulty wiring, a bad septic system, who knows what there might be.”
“I don’t want to lose out to that family in Toronto.”
“I’m sure an inspection can be done before the weekend.”
Bruce made his offer back at Rosso Realty’s office. Amy called the owner and left a message. “I’ll try her later or she may get back to me first,” she said to Bruce. “If she accepts your offer, you should be able to get an inspection done tomorrow or Thursday.”
“I could move in on the weekend,” Bruce said.
“If you’re satisfied with the inspection.” I turned to Amy. “Who is the owner?”
She glanced at the document on her desk. “Tess Watson. She lives here in Braeloch.”
The woman who’d come into the branch that afternoon. She would have a sizable sum of money to invest with the sale of her cabin. I hoped Nate had sold her on Norris Cassidy.
Outside, I
turned to Bruce. “I hope you’re not going into the newsroom today.”
He smiled. “Maria and George ordered me to take the day off.”
“Would you give me a hand right now? I have the key to the cottage I’ve rented. I’d like to take a few things over.”
I wanted to keep him busy. I had packed up everything we wouldn’t need in the next few days. It would take an hour or so to bring the boxes to the cottage on the other side of the lake. Then Bruce could join us for an early dinner.
“No problem. I’ll be over in about twenty minutes.” He gave us a salute and walked down Main Street toward the Dominion Hotel.
Laura glared at me. “Back to Black Bear? I’ll go for a drive.”
“Not today,” I said. “We’re spending the day with Bruce.”
A black sports car was parked in front of the house. I heard the door of Laura’s Hyundai slam shut; moments later, she was standing beside my car window. I rolled it down.
“Whose Ferrari is that?” I asked.
“Kyle’s mother’s.” Laura groaned. “This should be fun.”
Kyle opened the front door of the house. Maxie ran out, barking loudly, with Tommy behind her.
I took a dog leash from the glove compartment and thrust it at Laura. “Take Tommy and Maxie for a walk.”
They had vanished around the side of the house when a couple joined Kyle at the door. I’d met Yvonne Shingler on a handful of occasions. The attractive brunette was wearing a turquoise sundress that probably had a designer label. I assumed the ruddy-faced man behind her was her husband.
She took a few steps toward me. “Lovely place, Pat.” She turned to include the man. “My husband, Russell. Russ, this is Pat Tierney, Laura’s mother.”
“Where did Laura go?” Kyle asked.
“She and Tommy took Maxie for a walk.”
“I hope she won’t be long,” Yvonne said. “We drove up here to talk to both of you.”
I moved toward the door. “You can start with me.”
Inside the house, I led the way to the living room. “Something to drink?” I asked.
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