Crystal heaved a sigh. “When a locker is opened, bidders can look at the contents from the door but they can’t go inside. I spotted one of Frank’s end tables so I thought the other pieces would be there as well.” She sighed again. “They weren’t.”
“Nothing else of value in there?” Bruce asked.
“I made a few hundred dollars on some old comic books,” Crystal said. “But even with the end table, that didn’t cover what I’d put out.”
“You were disappointed,” I said.
Bruce slipped his notebook into his briefcase. “That’s it. We’ll run the story next week.”
“With my photo?” Crystal asked.
“With a photo,” he said. “We’ll drive over to Glencoe Self-Storage now. I’ll get a shot of you with the lockers in the background.”
I was getting up to leave when Crystal said, “I saw Frank’s mother at the fireworks last weekend. I almost asked her about the antiques she’d taken, but I knew there’d be no point in that.”
And I’d seen Ella on Main Street. For someone who hadn’t been in Braeloch in years, she was making up for lost time.
“You know Frank’s mother?” I asked.
“Not personally,” Crystal said, “but everyone in Newmarket knows who Ella Prentice is. She has a Sunday afternoon radio show, Ella’s Beauty Spot. There’s a billboard with her photo downtown.”
Just before noon, Laura and Tommy appeared at my office door. “We’ve been visiting Ronnie,” Laura said.
“How is she?”
Laura flung herself into the client’s chair. “She seems to be doing okay. Jamie has a caregiver spending a few hours with her every day. She arrived as we were leaving.”
“That’s good.” My eyes were on Tommy who was drawing a pattern in the dust on the windowpane. He wasn’t having much fun this summer, I thought. I wished I had friends in the area with kids his age.
“Yeah. Now Jamie can get out a bit.”
When Laura and Tommy had left, I picked up the telephone and dialed Ronnie’s number. Jamie answered. She updated me on her mother’s condition and told me about the caregiver.
“Can you take a break before she leaves?” Nate and I had our last two client interviews scheduled for later that afternoon. I would be at loose ends until then.
“I’d like to eat lunch with Mom. How about one o’clock?”
“Are you up for a walk?” I asked. The sun was shining after the previous day’s rain.
“A walk is just what I need. We’ll go up to the lookout.”
Ronnie’s house on Prince Street was halfway up the hill behind Main Street. A park with a lookout over the town and the lake was at the top of the hill, with a network of walking trails behind it.
Jamie was waiting on the porch. I went into the house to say hello to Ronnie and give her a gentle hug.
Back outside, Jamie handed me a bottle of water and we set off along Prince Street, then up Pine Avenue. The higher we climbed, the swankier the houses became. The last house was the elaborate building of stone and stained wood where Ted Stohl had lived. A For Sale sign was on its front lawn.
We climbed the stairs to the park and sat on a bench with a magnificent view of Serenity Lake. I looked around, thinking that this was where Vi and Ronnie had met Daniel Laughton.
“I’ll stay with Mom another week. I hope she’ll be okay by the time I leave.” Jamie sounded worried.
“Your mother should be back to normal soon.” A friend in Toronto had had her gallbladder removed by laparoscopic surgery earlier that year.
“Lainey Campbell is the only one who’s dropped by or called since we got back from the hospital.” Jamie bit her lower lip. “I never realized that Mom doesn’t have many friends. She must be lonely.”
She was starting to see Ronnie in a new light, as a lonely widow rather than an interfering mother. I hoped that the next week would bring them closer together.
“A few Christmases ago, I signed Mom up for a flowers-of-the-month plan with the florist here in town,” Jamie said. “I gave her a different kind of gift the next Christmas and I didn’t renew the plan. But when I was going through her desk the other day looking for some papers she wanted, I found invoices from the florist. She’d renewed the plan. She’s still getting flowers every month.”
“They brighten her life.”
“I feel terrible that I didn’t renew the plan.” She sighed. “It was a substitute for spending time with her but still…”
“It’s not too late for the flowers or to spend more time with her.”
“I envy Tracy’s relationship with you.”
I gave her a wry smile. “All parents screw up at some point. I’ve botched a few things...as you know.”
I’d handled it badly when I first learned about Tracy and Jamie’s relationship. I hadn’t realized my daughter was a lesbian, and I was surprised—shocked—when she introduced me to her sweetheart. Yes, I’d bungled things royally and it had nearly cost me my relationship with Tracy. But I’d tried my best to make amends. Thankfully, the girls had been willing to move on with me.
“Go easy on your mom,” I said. “She loves you.”
Jamie stood up. “Let’s walk.”
I took a swig from my bottle and followed her to the trailhead at the edge of the park. We hiked a short loop through the trees, then descended the stairs to the street.
“Can I get a ride with you downtown? I need to buy a few things,” Jamie asked outside Ronnie’s house. “I’ll make my own way back here.”
I drove downtown—as the locals called the Main Street strip—and parked in my spot behind the Norris Cassidy branch. We walked over to Braeloch Bread and Buns. I’d just paid for a loaf of bread when the door opened with a tinkle of bells, and Zoe walked into the bakery.
“Hi, Zoe,” I said.
“Hey, Pat,” she said. “And Jenny.”
“Hey, Zoe,” Jamie said.
Zoe appraised Jamie and me. “You two know each other?”
“We do.” Jamie handed a bill to the clerk. “What brings you up this way? On vacation?”
“I live here now, Jenny. You remember, Nate, my husband? He’s the manager of the Norris Cassidy branch.”
Jamie looked at me. “That explains how you two know each other. Zoe and I are…cousins three or four times removed.”
“That sounds complicated,” I said.
“Cousins three or four times removed,” Zoe said. “Never heard that one before.”
“We’re related by marriage,” Jamie explained. “Zoe’s Aunt Ella married my Uncle Harlan. Their son, Frank, was our first cousin.”
“And that makes us cousins three or four times removed. Hmm…” Zoe opened her handbag and gave a little yelp. “I left my wallet in the car. See you later, Jenny. You too, Pat.” She slipped out the door.
When Jamie and I left the bakery, Zoe was nowhere in sight. Jamie burst into laughter.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I’m glad you called Zoe by name. I saw her and an older woman—her mother, probably—at the fireworks, but I couldn’t recall either of their names.”
Jamie had mentioned that on Saturday night. “Your mother said her sister-in-law has a large family,” I said.
“There are several sisters. You’ve met Ella, and Zoe’s mother is her sister.”
I realized then that Zoe’s mother was a Filipina, which explained her exotic good looks.
“Your grandmother’s funeral last fall,” I said as we walked down Main Street.
“Yes?” Jamie asked.
“Was Zoe there?”
Jamie thought about that for a few moments. “Yes, she was. We talked briefly but, again, I couldn’t remember her name.”
“What did you talk about?”
“I don’t know. I was grieving for Gran and the entire day was a blur. Zoe must have introduced me to her husband but I don’t recall it.”
“Was Zoe there when your mother showed Frank the furniture?”
> “No. Mom drove Frank and Crystal to Gran’s apartment when the reception was over. I walked out to the parking lot with them, and they got into her Mazda. Is that important?”
“Probably not. I’m just trying to connect some dots.”
Jamie went into the pharmacy. I continued on to the branch, thinking about Zoe and Frank being first cousins. I wondered if Zoe knew that Frank had valuable antiques in a storage locker outside of Braeloch.
I was walking up the front steps when Bruce called my name. “The camera is Wilf’s,” he said when he caught up to me.
“Foster told you that?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “I’d be waiting a long time to hear it from him. No, Darlene Mathers called me. Foster brought it over to her home last night, and she recognized it right away.”
“It looks like the same person killed Wilf and Vi. He left personal belongings of both of them at your home.”
“He’s trying to finger me. But why?”
“You had a motive for killing Vi. Now that she’s dead, you’ve inherited Ted’s entire estate.”
“What was my motive for killing Wilf?”
“I haven’t figured that out.” I’d been racking my brains about that but I hadn’t come up with anything.
“He knows me pretty well if he knows about Ted’s estate.”
“Not necessarily well. He knows you were Ted and Vi’s only child, and he assumes you are their beneficiary.”
“So he lives around here.”
“Or he’s plugged into what’s going on around here.”
It was a little after five when I got back to Black Bear Lake. Laura told me that Tracy had just called. “She’s taking the bus to Braeloch on Saturday morning. She’ll drive her Honda back to the city on Sunday and I’ll go with her.”
I smiled, pleased by the arrangement. I could spend the weekend relaxing at the lake instead of chauffeuring Laura into Toronto.
I took a pasta dish from the freezer and told Laura when to put it in the microwave. Then I got the kayak out of the shed.
I travelled close to the shoreline, focusing on the rhythm of my paddle strokes. But when I spotted Nate and Zoe’s chalet through the trees, my mind clicked into high gear. Nate was sitting on the end of the dock, his feet in the water.
“Hello,” I said, coming up behind him.
Startled, he turned in the direction of my voice. “Pat!”
“I love being out on the water in the late afternoon,” I said. “It’s a golden time of day.”
He smiled. “I’m waiting for Zoe. She spends most afternoons on the lakes between here and Braeloch. She’s usually back by now.”
“Does she fish when she’s out there?”
“She doesn’t fish. She just likes being on the water. The rock formations, the wildlife, she finds it all fascinating. She wants to get a snowmobile this winter.”
“Make sure she knows what she’s doing,” I said. “The lakes can be treacherous in the winter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Friday was my last day at the Norris Cassidy branch. And I hoped that it would be my last day as an employee.
It was also the day that Wilf’s funeral was held at Holy Redeemer Church in Braeloch. I wanted to attend it, but I knew I should spend the morning at the branch. I packed books and papers into cardboard boxes. And I cleared files from the computer, sending several to Nate and downloading a few to a flash drive.
Nate and I were waiting at the reception desk when Soupy and Ivy returned from the church just before noon. “How did it go?” I asked.
“It was so sad,” Ivy said. “Darlene cried through the entire service.”
Nate put the Closed sign in the front window. We trooped out the back door to the parking lot and got into Nate’s gold van. He drove us to Pickerel, an upscale eatery that had recently opened on Twelve Mile Lake.
My goodbye lunch wasn’t easy to sit through. I found myself gazing at the lake, thinking that I’d much rather be out in the kayak than at that table. When my colleagues toasted me with champagne cocktails, I wanted to shrink into my jacket. I’ve never been comfortable with compliments, and compliment me they did—with a lot of cheering and clapping thrown in. The other diners turned to see what was going on at our table.
I thanked them and made a toast of my own to the success of the Braeloch branch.
Finally, it was time to leave and Nate called for the bill. He took several cards from his wallet and placed them on the table while he searched for a credit card. The orange color of one card caught my eye.
“Your keycard tells me that you have a locker at Glencoe Self-Storage,” I said as he put the extra cards back into his wallet.
He placed his credit card on the tray the waitress had brought to the table with the bill. “We sure do. All our furniture is in it. The place we’re renting is furnished.”
“Bruce Stohl’s mother was put in one of those lockers,” Ivy said.
“That locker might have been ours if it was chosen randomly,” Nate said. “But they would have had trouble getting into it. The padlock we bought is guaranteed to resist picks, bolt cutters and saws.”
I didn’t think Frank’s locker had been chosen randomly, but I kept that to myself.
Ivy looked impressed by what Nate had said. “How would they remove a lock like that for an auction?”
“If those claims are true, which I doubt, they’d have to contact the manufacturer,” Soupy said.
I watched Nate hand the tray to the waitress. I had found someone else who had a keycard to the storage yard gate.
But it looked like Vi’s body had been put in the locker during the day when the gate was open, so the killer hadn’t needed a card to enter the yard.
Back at the branch, I said my goodbyes to the Norris Cassidy team.
“I’ll see you at my wedding,” Soupy said. He had been quiet throughout lunch.
“I’m looking forward to it.” I gave his hand a squeeze.
“We’ll have you and Laura over for cocktails on the dock,” Nate said.
I saluted them and escaped through the back door.
I was now self-employed, I thought as I crossed the parking lot. I corrected that to unemployed. Until I started up my business in the fall, I was out of work. And do you know what? I didn’t mind a bit.
I was in the Volvo when I remembered a piece of unfinished business in town. I went back into the branch.
“You can’t get rid of me,” I said to Ivy. “I thought you might know Sally Beaton. She lives here in town.”
A smile lit up Ivy’s face. “Of course, I know Sally. She’s my granny’s friend. Lives up on the hill on Newcastle Street. Pink house, you can’t miss it.”
I thanked Ivy, grateful for once that everyone knew everyone else in a small town. Something I hadn’t always appreciated.
Sally’s house was a startling shade of pink, and a flock of plastic flamingos grazed on the front lawn. Sally came to the door in an oversized pink T-shirt and baggy jeans, a pink headband holding her white hair back from her face.
“I’m looking for Chuck and Gracie Gibson,” I told her. “Chuck said they were staying with you.”
“The fools went back to Raven Lake,” she said. “They were welcome to stay here till they got their problem sorted. I’ve got plenty of room.”
“Not very wise, with disgruntled renters showing up.”
“I’ll say.”
The Gibsons’ home was a good half-mile from the highway. I drove down the side road and as I turned into their lane, I saw an Internet tower on a distant hill. That tower kept them connected to the rest of the world; nonetheless, they were pretty isolated on this stretch of Raven Lake. A wetlands, owned by the local conservation authority, was on one side of their property. Their neighbors on the other side owned a large tract of land, and trees screened their buildings from view. Chuck and Gracie could be dead in their home for days without anyone knowing. My heart went out to them, remembering how isolated I had f
elt at Norris Cassidy’s executive home the previous winter.
Chuck came around the side of the house holding a black pistol.
I got out of the car. “That looks pretty lethal,” I said.
He looked at the weapon in his hands. “Air pistol. I bought it to keep the rabbits down.” He inclined his head toward the house. “Let’s take a seat on the porch.”
I noted the dark circles under eyes and his hunched shoulders.
“How is Gracie doing?” I asked when we were seated at a wooden table.
“She’s having a rest before dinner.” He placed the pistol on the plastic table. “Her nerves are shot.”
That didn’t surprise me. “But you decided to come back here.”
“We had no choice. We could have stayed with Sally, but we didn’t want to leave the house empty. Renters might arrive and assume that the place was theirs for a week or two. They’d break a window to get in.”
“So you’re holding the fort with an air pistol.” It was lunacy to think he could protect his wife and his home on his own. He might scare off one person, but what if a group arrived?
“Nothing else I can do,” he said.
“You should have an alarm system.”
“Alarm system? How would that work?”
“It would have a panic button you would hit to call for help. And some alarms can be set to go off on unauthorized entry—during the night or when you’re away.”
“Where can I find out about them?”
“We can do a search on your computer right now.”
He shook his head. “Gracie’s lying down in the room where we have the computer. I don’t want to disturb her.”
And I didn’t have Internet access at Black Bear Lake. “Do you talk to your daughter in Toronto every day?” I asked.
“Terry’s too busy with her job and her kids to call us every day.”
“Right now, it would be a good idea if she called at a set time every day. If you don’t pick up, she’d know there may be a problem.”
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