People shook their heads and murmured, “No.”
Another man turned to Lacey. “Do you know who might have done that to your car?”
“No, I don’t,” Lacey said. Which was true. If she had been specifically targeted, though, it might have something to do with her inquiries around town, but of course she wasn’t about to bring up that subject with strangers.
“I don’t know if I want to stay here if it’s not safe,” a woman said.
A few others nodded and murmured their agreement.
“The police are investigating.” Sophie fingered the blue scarf around her neck. “And Hugh is looking into hiring a security guard as we speak. But if anyone wants to cancel their stay, I’ll certainly understand.”
The guests exchanged looks, but no one accepted Sophie’s offer. After answering a few more questions, Sophie said, “We’ll let you know if we hear any more. And now, please, help yourself to coffee and tea and raspberry scones in the dining room.”
As the guests left for the dining room, Sophie approached Lacey. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.”
Sophie’s smile faded to a frown. “Maybe what happened to your tires has something to do with all the questions you’ve been asking about what happened ten years ago.”
“That occurred to me, too. But if so, then I’m on to something.”
Sophie propped her hands on her hips. “Honey, Al Jr.’s gone, your father’s gone and so is your mother. I’ve asked you before, and I’ll ask you again. Why can’t you leave the past alone?”
“Because justice was not served. My father was innocent.”
“As far as I’m concerned, justice was served. You’re the only one who won’t accept that.”
Lacey spread her hands. “But, Sophie, if someone did target my car as a warning, doesn’t that indicate they’re scared I’ll prove my father wasn’t the shooter, after all? That someone else was?”
Sophie sighed and folded her arms. “Okay, you make a point. But why put yourself—and our guests—in danger?”
Lacey sobered. “You’re right. I don’t want to do that. I’ll leave. I’ll pack up right now and be out within the hour.” She started for the stairs.
Sophie hurried to her side. “Oh, hon, no. I love having you here, and I want you to stay. I’m worried enough about you now, and if you left, I’d really worry. Please, stay.”
Just then, Rory came in. “Your tires are all changed, Lacey. You’re good to go now.”
“Thanks, Rory,” Lacey said. “I’ll get the insurance forms filled out.”
He nodded and held up his dirt-smudged hands. “Can you steer me to a place where I can wash up?”
“Down the hall and on the right.” Sophie pointed the way. “And then there’s coffee and scones in the dining room.”
“That’ll hit the spot.” Rory grinned and headed down the hall.
A few minutes later, Lacey and Rory sat at a corner table in the dining room. “How did everyone respond to Sophie’s talk?” Rory asked.
“They’re concerned, but I think bringing everyone together and stopping rumors helped. I told her I’d move, though.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Move where?”
She shrugged. “To one of the motels outside of town.”
“You could stay with me.” His eyes sparkled with teasing.
“Oh, now there’s a good idea.” Lacey didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm. “Like the town isn’t talking enough about us already.”
“Let them talk.”
Lacey sipped her coffee. “Rory, you can’t be serious about me staying with you.”
He looked down at his hands gripping his cup. “I might be.”
Lacey kept her tone light. “Thanks for the offer, but there’s really no need. Sophie doesn’t want me to leave.”
He looked up. “Oh? What does she want?”
“For me to give up my search.”
“Sophie’s concerned about you. And maybe you should be, too.”
“No. There’s no proof I was targeted. But if I was, and the vandalism does have to do with the murder, then I’m all the more determined to continue my search for the true killer.”
*
“DID YOU HAVE a good time at the party last night?” Gram asked Lacey.
“The party was…nice.” Lacey kept her gaze averted as she rinsed their teacups in the kitchen sink. After the meeting at Sophie’s, she’d spent the rest of the day at the Sentinel’s office working on her projects. Then, as she did most days, she stopped at Riverview to check on her grandmother.
“Nice?” Gram snorted. “What does that mean?”
“Seeing some of the kids from high school was interesting. Well, they’re not kids anymore. Now they have children of their own.”
A knock sounded on the front door.
“That must be Mitzi,” Gram said, “coming by to go to dinner.”
“Not Hal?” Lacey asked with a smirk.
Gram shook her head. “He’s visiting his daughters and grands. I’ll see him tomorrow for Scrabble.”
Lacey hung up the dish towel and went to the door. As Gram speculated, her neighbor Mitzi stood there, both hands propped on her cane.
“Hello, Lacey, time for dinner. According to the menu, we’re having roast beef.” She peered around Lacey. “You ready, Remy?”
“Soon’s I run a comb through my hair.” Gram wheeled herself toward the bathroom.
“You’re coming, too, Lacey?” Mitzi asked.
“I, ah…”
“She’s coming,” Gram called from the bathroom.
“Guess I am,” Lacey said with a laugh.
In the dining room, they joined two other women, Annabel and Edna, whom Lacey had met on another occasion. After they settled at a table for four, covered with a white tablecloth and with a centerpiece of fresh chrysanthemums, Mitzi turned to Lacey. “Did you get your tires fixed okay?”
Lacey stopped unfolding her napkin and stared at Mitzi. She’d expected word to spread, but not this fast.
“Tires?” Gram frowned. “What about your tires?”
Annabel and Edna leaned forward to listen.
“My tires were slashed last night at Sophie’s,” Lacey said. “But how did you hear about it, Mitzi?”
Mitzi sipped her water. “My cousin and her husband from Spokane are staying there. They phoned me this morning.”
“Did they catch who did it?” Annabel wrinkled her brow and looked from Mitzi to Lacey.
Lacey finished spreading her napkin on her lap. “Not that I know of.”
“Were your tires the only ones?” Gram asked.
“Apparently so.”
Gram’s sharp eyes bored into Lacey. “So you were targeted.”
Lacey laid a hand on Gram’s arm. “We don’t know that for sure. Rory and I saw someone with a flashlight and chased him, but he got away. He may have just been getting started and planned to do more.”
“I wonder if our cars are safe here at Riverview?” Edna sat back and gripped her elbows.
A waitress served their meals, plates of roast beef, mashed potatoes and green beans, and conversation ceased while they turned their attention to eating.
“The roast is wonderful,” Annabel said after a few minutes. “I love the mushroom gravy.”
“I always added a bit of sour cream to my gravies,” Edna said.
“I sometimes made mine with beef broth,” Mitzi put in.
While the other women continued talking about recipes, Gram turned to Lacey. “You never said one word about your tires. When were you going to tell me? Or were you?” she added in an accusing tone.
Lacey sighed. “I was. Eventually. I should have known this town’s gossip mill would spread the word.”
“I’m glad for the gossip. We need to know what goes on so we can protect ourselves.”
Lacey spread butter on her sourdough roll. “I suppose there’s something to that. But, please, don’t worry, Gram. There’s
no proof the vandal was targeting me.”
She wanted Gram to believe that—even if she didn’t believe it herself.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IN HER OFFICE at the Sentinel, Lacey searched through a box of old photos, looking for pictures to illustrate the commemorative newspaper. The text was shaping up nicely, but needed to be enlivened with more visual content.
Elton came in and peered over her shoulder. “Find anything useful?”
“A few.” She pointed to a stack of pictures she’d set aside. “Right now, I’m looking for some of The Owl Restaurant.”
“Should be some there, as I recall.” He slipped into the empty chair beside her and held out a sheet of paper. “But take a look at this. Clio just finished writing up Police Beat.”
Lacey took the paper and read the weekly list. “I see my tire slashing here. Is that why you’re showing it to me?”
“Just thought you might be interested. Doesn’t actually name you, though.”
“Like everybody in town doesn’t already know it was my car. I don’t know why you bother publishing a newspaper,” she added, only half teasing.
“We get the facts straight. Sometimes the grapevine doesn’t.”
“That’s a point,” she conceded. She turned back to the photos again, and one caught her eye. “Oh, here’s what I’m looking for.” She picked up the picture and held it out to Elton.
Elton adjusted his glasses and peered at the photo. “Yes, this was taken shortly after Jorgen bought the place. Look at that grin on his face.” He pointed to the smiling man standing with feet spread and hands planted on his hips. “He was proud as all get-out.”
“He still is. The place has an interesting history—including the card club Jorgen had in the back room.”
Elton raised his eyebrows. “He told you about that?”
“Well, no. When I was at the museum, Del talked about the games that went on at The Owl.”
Elton nodded. “Probably not a guy in town who didn’t sit in at one time or another.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Even you?”
“Even me. I never had much luck at cards, though.” Elton set the photo on top of the stack.
“How did Jorgen get away with it? Gambling in this state was illegal by then.”
“Paid somebody to look the other way. Happens all the time. There’s always somebody willing to take a bribe if you look hard enough.”
“Del said that one night when my father was there, he accused Al Jr. of cheating. Maybe you were there that night?” She idly straightened the pile of photos and then looked up at him.
Elton met her gaze with a stern one of his own. “Lacey, let it be, will you? Let your poor dad rest in peace.”
“I can’t, Elton.”
“No, not can’t. Won’t. Look, we hired you in good faith to write articles for our celebration, not to dig up old bones. Stop trying to prove your father’s innocence. No one cares.”
“I care.”
Elton frowned and pressed his lips together. “I sure don’t like what I’m hearing around town about the questions you’re asking.”
Lacey’s shoulders tensed. “Do you want me to quit the project?” she asked in a low voice.
“No, especially not at this late date. You’re a darn good writer and a good historian. Your work so far is right on target, and I expect the finished work will be just as good.”
Some of her tension seeped away. “Thanks, Elton. I appreciate the confidence.”
“So, are we straight on everything?”
“Sorry, I can’t make any promises.”
Elton blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, at least you’re honest.” He stood, turned to go and then stopped. “Oh, and just so we don’t need to have this conversation again, at one time or another, your dad accused everyone of cheating—even me.”
*
“THEY CAUGHT THE guy who slashed your tires,” Rory said over the phone two days later.
Lacey sat at the round table in her room at Sophie’s, working on her computer. “Caught the guy? Who is he?”
“A teenaged kid from town.”
“How’d they catch him?”
“Long story. Needs to be told in person. Good excuse for getting together, huh?” He laughed.
“Tonight?” She looked at her wristwatch. Nearly seven. She’d had dinner with Gram, as usual, but then, needing to work, had begged off a game of Scrabble and come to her room.
“It’s early yet.”
“Well…okay. I’ll meet you somewhere.”
“Nah. I’ll come pick you up.”
She waited outside the B and B in the gathering dusk, the air still warm, expecting him to arrive in one of his classic cars. Instead, he pulled up in his truck. “Dugan’s is still open,” he said as she climbed in beside him. “It’s a good place to talk.”
At the diner, they sat in the same booth they’d occupied before. Instead of the teenaged waitress, though, an older woman served. She knew Rory, and they exchanged a few remarks as she poured their coffee.
After she left, Rory said to Lacey, “I suppose you’ll worry now about Alma spreading gossip about us.”
Lacey threw up her hands. “No, I’m giving up. I honestly don’t know why Elton Watts bothers to report the news when everyone else does it for him.”
“One of the hazards of small-town living. But okay, down to business. The kid’s name is Alfie Mullen. He’s fourteen years old. Lives with his mother and a couple sibs in the housing development by the fertilizer plant.”
Lacey sipped her coffee. “So how do they know he’s the one?”
“He finally confessed. Maybe I should start at the beginning. He went to Johnson’s Electronics, picked out an expensive game and flashed a wad of money. Told Johnson he got a job but wouldn’t say where.”
Rory sat back and folded his arms. “Johnson told his cop buddy, Dave, who knows the family. Alfie’s been in trouble before at school, stealing a kid’s lunch money. His teachers have been trying to get him into a Big Brothers program, but no luck so far.
“So, Dave talks to Alfie’s mom, who’s worried because Alfie won’t tell her where he got the money. He wanted to give her some, but she refused unless he told her where it came from. Bottom line, they do an intervention with Alfie, and he finally confesses.”
“Confesses what?”
“That somebody paid him to slash your tires.”
Lacey gripped her coffee cup and leaned forward. “Who?”
Rory shrugged. “That’s the big question. He doesn’t know who. A guy he’d never seen before offered him a hundred dollars if he’d slash the tires of a white Camaro convertible, parked at Sophie’s B and B.”
Lacey frowned. “So, what will happen to him?”
“Don’t know. Dave—or someone else from the PD—will contact you.”
Lacey sat back. “Well, mystery solved.”
“Not quite. We still don’t know who hired Alfie. But we might know why.”
“Because he—or she—doesn’t like me stirring up the past.”
“That’d be my guess.”
“So that tells me I’m right about my father’s innocence.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Rory said in a reproving tone. “The person behind the tire vandalism might have a reason that has nothing to do with what your father did.”
Lacey sighed. They were back to the same old argument. “I don’t care what you say, I’ll keep believing my father is innocent.”
Rory folded his arms and heaved a breath. “O-kay, let’s say you’re right. Your father did not shoot my father. Someone else did. And you’re willing to risk your own life to prove that?”
Lacey stared him in the eye. “I guess I am.”
“I know you believe in your father’s innocence,” he said with studied patience, “and I’m willing to concede it’s possible. But we haven’t found any proof. Give up your obsession, so we can move on.”
“I can’t.”
; “You keep saying that. But I believe you could if you really wanted to.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I’m trying my best. I wish I could convince you to see my point of view.”
“You might as well stop trying, Rory, because even though I might be discouraged, I’m not giving up.”
*
DRIVING ALONG THE highway on Saturday night, lost in thought, Rory was a mile down the road before he realized he’d missed the turnoff. He wheeled around and drove back, looking for the road leading to his grandfather’s house. Yep, there it was, coming up around the bend.
Temptation to bypass the road again nudged him. He didn’t really want to go to A.J.’s party. He’d rather spend the time with Lacey. Since she’d returned to town and they’d been together, the chains of the past that held them prisoner seemed to have slipped away—at least for him. Judging by her response to his kisses, she felt the same way.
Still, although he’d suggested they move forward, she was adamant in her refusal to focus on anything but proving her father’s innocence.
Rory followed the winding road through the pine trees and scrub brush and finally reached A.J.’s house, a sprawling rambler sheltered by maple trees. The thirty acres included a barn, not for horses or livestock, but storage for golf carts and a couple of boats. A nearby shed housed an older-model pickup, a tractor and, last time he’d looked, an old, abandoned Pontiac.
Rory parked next to some other vehicles, climbed from the truck and entered the backyard. This year, A.J.’s Silver River Days party was bigger than ever. At least a hundred guests filled the brick patio and well-tended lawn. In addition to A.J.’s employees, there were also those he did business with—or hoped to.
“Well, Rory! We’ve been waiting for you.” Leetha Parsons, all decked out in a frilly blouse, denim skirt, red boots and cowboy hat, hurried toward him.
Leetha and A.J.’s wife, Beryl, had been best friends. The passing of Beryl and then Leetha’s husband, Edgar, drew her and A.J. together. She made a good hostess when A.J. needed one, and he provided the same for her.
Rory had always liked Leetha. He had good memories of her and Beryl taking him and Leetha’s grandchildren, Bud and Sara, on picnics in City Park and to the movies at the Grand Theater.
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