“Eww, no. TMI,” I said. “Seriously, I’m glad things went well. Good news.”
Madison still wore that dreamy look. “Who would have thunk it? He’s been right under my nose for years.” We’d all grown up together, although Anton was a couple of years older than us.
“You’re seeing him in a whole new way, dear,” Grammie said. She set her fork down with a decisive click. “Who’s ready for dessert?”
Sophie had brought a raspberry crisp made with local berries and rich vanilla ice cream to top the warm dessert. We dug into big bowls of the treat, making comments about how we’d saved calories by having salad for dinner. Not really.
“Lukas was supposed to go in and talk to Anton today,” I said to Madison while the rest of the table was listening to Bella tell a funny story about her ex-husband. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” The threatened storms had moved in and thunder grumbled in the distance.
“You mean did we talk police business on our date?” Madison gave me a smirk. “Actually we did, a little. I got your text with the news so I asked him. But his lips were sealed.”
I allowed a spoonful of raspberries and ice cream to linger on my tongue. “I wonder if Patrick said something incriminating. Remember Theo’s photo of Patrick’s boat moored near the cliffs? I’m sure Anton followed up about it.”
“Yeah, and maybe Patrick redirected suspicion onto Lukas.” Madison gnawed on her bottom lip. “I wonder if I can find out.”
I laughed. “You mean use your wiles to get him to spill? I can see your relationship with the chief is going to come in handy,” I joked.
Madison gave me a satisfied smile. “I could do that, couldn’t I?” She thought about it for a moment then shook her head. “Unfortunately I wouldn’t feel right about it. I guess lessons from my parents are too ingrained.”
“Darn.” I snapped my fingers, pretending to be disappointed. But really, joking aside, I didn’t expect anything less. I didn’t want Anton to jeopardize his position or a case because we pressured him. Or in Madison’s case, seduced him into it.
Bella called to me across the table. “Are you ready for the fashion show tomorrow night?”
I had a flash of panic. I’d forgotten all about the event. “I think so,” I replied, sounding anything but certain. “What do I have to do?”
“Not much,” Bella said to my relief. “Why don’t we meet for breakfast tomorrow around eight and go over everything? The other judges have done this before so they’re all set.”
“There’s another blueberry pancake breakfast tomorrow,” Grammie said. “I was thinking of going to that myself. It’s benefiting the lighthouse museum project.”
I thought about my schedule. If we met at the suggested time, I could easily eat breakfast at the park and still be at the store by nine. “I’ll be there, for sure.” I might even go downtown a little early and grab the folder of lobster bib entries, which were up to a dozen. Not a bad showing for the first year of an event.
Dessert over, everyone got up and started milling around, helping clean up before preparing to leave. The rumbles of thunder were closer now, accompanied by flashes of heat lightning. The storm would soon be upon us.
Jamaica slid into Madison’s empty chair beside me. “Thanks for including me, Iris. I haven’t had this much fun in ages.” She framed her face with her hands, like blinders. “I’ve had tunnel vision—work, work, work.”
“That’s the way it is when you start a business,” I said. “Ask me how I know.” We laughed then I said, “I’m glad you could come. We’ll hang out again soon, okay?”
“I’d like that,” she said, then looked around, ready to get up. “I really should go help the others.”
“Just a sec,” I said. “I want to talk to you about something.” When she turned attentive eyes on me, I hesitated, hoping I wouldn’t blow up our brand-new friendship. “I think the police still regard Lukas as the prime suspect in Hailey’s death.”
She reared back, her mouth hanging open. “That’s crazy. No way. Lukas wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I agree, it’s ludicrous,” I said. “Sophie thinks so too, and she’s known him a long time.” I paused. “So we’ve been wondering who it really was. And to that end, we’re trying to build a better picture of Hailey’s last days.”
Jamaica’s gaze narrowed. “You’re investigating? Like private eyes or something?”
“Or something,” I said. “We’re certainly not trained detectives. But we notice stuff and we know people. And we don’t take one piece of evidence and run with it.”
“Like that jacket.” Her tone was musing. “That was downright weird. As if someone was trying to pin the murder on Lukas.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I think so too. So.” I took a deep breath. “How well did Patrick and Hailey know each other?” I put up a hasty hand. “I’m not accusing him of anything. But his boat was seen moored near the cliffs the morning she died.” As she continued to stare at me, I stumbled on. “I thought maybe they’d been talking, maybe she was helping him with his project.” I remembered something. “Oh, and she had one of his energy bar wrappers in her pack that morning.”
“So you think he was delivering energy bars to her at the cliffs?” Jamaica’s voice held a note of mockery. But then a pensive expression fell over her features. “She irritated him, I know that much. Oh, he didn’t say no when she offered to hawk those bars around. He thought she was a good advertisement for them, being so cute and all.” She laced her long fingers together and stretched them back and forth as she spoke. “And she was smart as a whip too. Got to give her that.”
“She must have been,” I said. “I’m sure there was a lot of competition for the two teaching assistant slots.” At the very least, according to Theo, Hailey had been savvy about scheming her way to the top. Why depend on natural intelligence when you could seal the deal by cheating?
Jamaica gave a small groan. “Sorry,” she said when I looked at her. “I still can’t believe it. The whole thing is so awful, like a nightmare. It doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I agreed, although I was sure the killer believed what he or she had done was perfectly logical. Hailey was either a threat or had done something the killer thought deserved a death sentence.
“I was so shocked when I found out,” Jamaica said. “At first I thought Theo was joking.” Her mouth turned down. “But he sure wasn’t.”
I brought the conversation back to Patrick. “Patrick was at Shorehaven later that morning, meeting with Ruben.” I hadn’t seen Jamaica at Eleanor’s, but maybe she had come and gone by the time I got there.
Jamaica gave an irritated snort. “Figures. I should have been there too. But I was at home, in my apartment. Drinking coffee and working on my business plan.”
So Jamaica hadn’t been near the cliffs in her boat that morning, like Patrick had told me after the lab tour. That weasel. Not only had he thrown Theo under the bus during that conversation, he had tried to imply that Jamaica was involved with Hailey’s death. Or might have seen something important.
“Is that why the police came to the lab yesterday?” Jamaica asked. “Someone saw Patrick’s boat moored at the cliffs?”
“I’m pretty sure.” While I didn’t have the inside track on this one, it made sense that Anton had talked to Patrick about Theo’s photograph after I tipped him off. Then the next thing you know, Lukas got a call to come in. I leaned forward, feeling the need to warn her. “Be careful, okay? But if you keep your eyes open, listen to people, maybe you’ll learn something important. The sooner we find out who killed Hailey, the better.”
She nodded solemnly. “I’ll do my best.”
Everyone cleared out soon after, except Madison, who wanted to hang for a while, so Jamaica caught a ride home with Sophie. Her downtown apartment was near Sophie’s. Bella owned a home on one of the side streets leading up from the harbor.
“Anyone want tea?” Grammie asked us, her ha
nd on the kettle. “I have a nice herbal blend that’s decaf.”
“Sounds good,” Madison said. She was admiring the small aprons Grammie had stitched, which lay over the back of a dining room chair. She fluffed the skirt of the smallest one. “This is adorable. Did I tell you Tyler and Amy are having a girl?” Madison’s brother Tyler had married physician’s assistant Amy last April.
“No, you didn’t. Congrats to them.” I was genuinely happy for the newlyweds, who were wonderful—like everyone in Madison’s family. Sliding onto a stool at the kitchen island, I picked up my phone and checked my e-mail.
Outside, the wind whipped up, another sign that a storm was upon on. Thunder rolled like giants bowling in the sky, a favorite analogy when we were kids.
“Can you make me one of these aprons in a baby size?” Madison asked Grammie.
“I sure can,” Grammie said. “That would be so cute.” She turned to me. “Iris, we have another order already.”
“That’s awesome,” I said, scanning my inbox. To my delight, I had a response from the site where I’d found the Lapland passenger lists. I quickly opened it, only to groan with disappointment. “They don’t have the right passenger list for the Lapland. I hope we’re not at a dead end.” If we couldn’t prove when Claudia arrived in the United States, we couldn’t clear her as a suspect in her father’s murder.
Grammie, pulling mugs out of the cupboard, paused. “I have an idea where to look. Hold on and I’ll tell you about it after I make the tea. Go get your laptop, Iris.”
After she filled the mugs with steaming water and placed them in front of us, she said, “A friend of mine was telling me the other day that she’d found her great-grandparents in the Ellis Island records.”
“Ellis Island is near New York City, right?” Madison dunked her teabag up and down, using the string.
“Yes, out in the harbor,” Grammie said, adding a little honey to her tea. “Many immigrants went through there to register. They also got medical checkups. There’s a museum there now, I understand.”
I already had the site up. “I just put Claudia’s name in. Fingers crossed.” I took a sip of tea while the results loaded. Come on, come on.…
The lights flickered briefly. We often lost electricity during storms out here on the fringe of town. Thunder boomed right overhead.
“Oh no. This couldn’t happen at a worse time.” I peered at the screen, grateful I had a battery in the laptop. But I had to wait to get online again until after the modem reconnected. I quickly hit REFRESH and the screen loaded, revealing one entry. A Claudia de Witte from Antwerp arrived in 1932, on the Lapland. But had it sailed before her father was murdered in Belgium?
“I found her!” I cried out. Madison and Grammie abandoned their tea and came around to stand behind my shoulder. With shaking fingers, I clicked on the entry for more information.
The voyage dates confirmed that Eleanor’s mother had been on the ship when her father died. “Yes!” I shouted. “Claudia is innocent.”
CHAPTER 21
Grammie clapped her hands. “Eleanor is going to be so happy to hear this news. What a relief. Not that I ever thought Claudia was guilty.”
I hadn’t either, though I was very glad we had conclusive proof she wasn’t. “There is one thing, though.” I hopped down from the stool, too excited to sit. “We never told Eleanor that her grandfather was murdered. So it’s more of a good news, bad news scenario.”
“It also means that Claudia was the legal owner of the jewelry,” Madison pointed out. “Since the robbery happened after she left the country, she didn’t run away with stolen jewels.”
“True. That is very good news.” I picked up my cell phone and called Eleanor. “I hope it’s not too late to call.” Her phone, a landline, rang and rang. “Voice mail’s not picking up.”
“Her power is probably out,” Grammie said. “It happens a lot on that side of town.” She gave us a mischievous grin. “Who wants to take a ride?”
We drove out to Eleanor’s in Grammie’s Jeep Grand Wagoneer Woody, the biggest, safest vehicle we had. But still, gusts buffeted the heavy SUV and rain lashed the windshield, the wipers on full speed to keep up. Thunder crashed and lightning forked across the sky. Hardly anyone was on the road, only the occasional pair of headlights coming our way, tires splashing as they passed.
Grammie was intent at the wheel, watching the road. “I love thunderstorms. Nothing like a good one to clear the air.”
“Me too,” I said. Watching the lightning circle the hills was thrilling. Down on the shore, the surf must be incredible. But it was a typical summer storm, nothing that was going to uproot trees or demolish homes. Most power outages were due to a branch resting on a line. That happened frequently since the area was so wooded.
As we got closer to Cliff Road, I saw that all the houses were dark, confirming our theory that Eleanor’s electricity was out. Grammie slowed when we turned onto the side road, which, with very few streetlights, was dark even under the best of conditions. Tonight only the Jeep’s headlights and occasional lightning lit the gloom. Leaves and small branches patterned the gleaming black asphalt, but we didn’t encounter any real obstacles.
The stone posts marking the drive loomed out of the dark, caught by our headlights. Grammie turned in and we slowly crept down toward the house, which was in almost complete darkness. A lone light shone in the upper stories, where someone must have either lit candles or turned on battery-operated lamps.
Grammie parked near the fence, the lot empty of vehicles. The members of the seaweed project must be out, and Eleanor kept her car in the garage. Using the flashlight on my phone, we skirted the rain-dimpled pool and rapped on the French doors.
No answer. Although we were somewhat sheltered by the porch roof, the water-laden wind slapped us, sending droplets down our necks.
Two choices: go home or take a more assertive approach. Since our news was vitally important and I wanted to make sure Eleanor was all right, I chose the second. I boldly opened the French door and called, “Eleanor? Eleanor, are you home?”
Only a couple of thunder booms answered me as lightning flashed over the bay, which meant the storm was circling back around. I stepped into the house, the dark room briefly visible when another flash came. “Eleanor?” I called again, my voice louder. “Are you here?” Followed by Grammie and Madison, I walked through the sitting room and out into the hallway. She was probably upstairs, where I’d seen the light.
“Eleanor?” I called again. In response, a light shone and bobbed, as if someone was carrying it along the upstairs corridor. “I think she’s coming.”
We waited where we were, at the foot of the stairs. The lantern light grew stronger and soon we saw Eleanor on the landing. She wore a long white nightgown and in her hand, held high, was a battery lantern, the type I used while camping.
“Who’s there?” she called from the top of the stairs. She must not be able to see us from that vantage point.
I moved closer, to stand right below her. “It’s me, Iris. I’m here with Anne and Madison. We have news for you.”
“Iris?” To my dismay, Eleanor sounded doubtful, as if she didn’t know an Iris. She swung the lantern out over the railing, peering down. In the light’s eerie white glow, she looked gaunt, almost skeletal. “Who’s that with you?”
Grammie came up beside me. “Eleanor, dear, it’s Anne. And Madison. We’re here to see you. May we come up?”
Eleanor wavered, the lantern beam swinging wildly around the hall, and then she collapsed into a heap onto the floor. The lantern fell, bounced, and rolled.
After a frozen second or two, we launched into action and pounded up the staircase to her side. By the time we got there, Eleanor was sitting up, knees bent and a hand to her head. “What happened?” she asked, her voice groggy.
“You fell,” Grammie said gently. She knelt down beside Eleanor. “Does anything hurt?” She mimicked using a phone then pointed at me. I pulled out my cell to ca
ll 911.
“No, nothing hurts,” Eleanor said, looking up at us with dilated eyes. She patted her legs and hips. “All good.” She cracked an odd, crooked smile. Had she been drinking? I didn’t smell alcohol on her breath.
But at least she hadn’t broken a bone, it seemed. That was such a worry with the elderly and frail. The dispatcher answered, and I asked for an ambulance, explaining that we were concerned about an older woman’s condition.
Eleanor stared up into my grandmother’s face. “Anne. What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded slightly slurred.
Hoo-boy. I was glad she seemed to be thinking a little more clearly. But what had caused this episode? The dispatcher assured me the ambulance would be right there and I hung up.
“We came by to make sure you were all right,” Grammie said. “The storm had us concerned, with all the power outages.” She didn’t mention Claudia, and I thought I understood why. In Eleanor’s condition, she might not comprehend what we were talking about. The news could wait.
“The electricity went out,” Eleanor gestured vaguely. “It was dark.”
“Iris?” Grammie gestured to me. “Do you think you and Madison could help Eleanor back to her bedroom?”
Between the two of us, we carefully maneuvered Eleanor onto her feet and helped her down the hall. She leaned heavily on us, gripping us hard with her thin, bony fingers, and stumbled along. But she was putting weight on her legs and didn’t seem to be in any pain.
Grammie grabbed the lantern to light our journey and, once we entered the bedroom, she set it on the nightstand. We helped Eleanor climb into the high bed, which smelled of lavender and was made up with a set of those gorgeous sheets. A quilted satin coverlet lay folded at the foot, like something a movie star would use, and we pulled that up to cover her to the waist.
“Would you get me a glass of water?” Eleanor tugged at Madison’s arm then pointed to the adjacent bathroom. Madison picked up the empty water glass and hurried off.
Thread and Dead--The Apron Shop Series Page 18