On the other hand, Izzie swore that if Megan was in trouble, she’d know. Maybe I was grasping for clues where none existed.
Obviously, desperate measures called for me to fall apart and act like an idiot who trusted no one. “Well, what do you know, Detective Barrett? Guess we have more in common than I would ever imagine.”
I waved at Izzie, who jogged across the street, clutching her sandwich billboard. One way or another, this crime would be solved. Right now, my guessing as to whodunnit was like spitting in the wind, and nothing backed my claim but speculation and suspicion. Like the cop show detective would say, evidence solved the case. At least I had one thing right. No matter who the killer turned out to be, life in Whisper Cove was changed forever.
Chapter Nine
“What are you up to this morning?” I skewered a chunk of pineapple and eyed Max, who lay on his back, panting.
The ceiling fan hummed while a slight breeze drifted in from the kitchen window. Both offered relief from the morning heat, with feeble success.
Izzie checked her watch. “I arranged a meeting with the supplier to sort out the delivery snafu. Somebody somewhere needs to answer for a shoddy performance because now we don’t have the paint colors we need for tomorrow. Gotta love these moments.” She raised her arm to give the chain of the ceiling fan several pulls until the blades picked up speed. “Let’s hope the repair guy comes today to fix the AC. I don’t know how much more of this sticky, hot weather I can take. Do you have any plans?”
“Oh, I thought I’d take a walk into town and visit some friends, maybe do a bit of shopping.” I hadn’t divulged the entire story about Sammy’s situation. With the opening event scheduled for tomorrow evening, topped off by this morning’s delivery mess, Izzie was a tangled bundle of nerves. I didn’t even tell her about Megan’s odd behavior, how she was sneaking around dressed in a trench coat. Adding more worries to her full plate didn’t seem fair, at least until after the opening.
“How many do we have so far? I counted twenty sign-ups before I fell asleep.”
“Thirty. We hit the maximum number allowed by the fire department. Even your ex is coming.” She winked.
“Yes, and your dear classmate from high school, Hunter Barrett.” I exchanged my empty fruit bowl for a plate of scrambled eggs and returned to the table.
“He’s not my dear anything,” Izzie huffed while gathering her bag and sweater.
Max licked my ankle, grabbing my attention. I scratched the top of his head, then stood to walk over to the pantry. “Beg to differ, but let’s move on. Willow called to say she’ll be at the shop this morning to prepare sketches and organize materials for the event but then plans to leave by noon.” I poured kibble into the bowl.
“That’s fine. I should be back from Jamestown by then to finish up the prep.” She tied her hair in a ponytail. “Take over for a couple of hours afterward, will you? In case someone stops by to check out the place or maybe has questions about future events. You can close up by five. Mom’s invited Gwen for dinner. She wants me to pick up a few items before coming home.” Izzie whistled. “I can only imagine the table conversation we’ll be listening to.”
“Yeah, I bet. Okay. I’ll be at the shop by three.”
The hall clock chimed eight. I shoveled the last bite of egg in my mouth as I carried the plate to the sink and mumbled goodbye as Izzie rushed down the hall. Alone with Max, I let my thoughts ramble, thinking about Sammy and her situation with Infinity. None of her problems were my business, unless they somehow tied her to Fiona. Yet the caring side of me wanted to fix all things broken. Sammy might need rescuing from those goons she did business with, but I couldn’t force help on her.
My phone rang, breaking my thoughts. I snatched it from my pocket and tensed at Sammy’s name popping up on the screen. “Hey, Sammy. I was thinking about you. Maybe we—”
“Should talk, yeah I know. I …” She broke off with a quivering breath.
“You do? Boy, that’s a relief.” I sank into a chair. “I can make a quick call to my lawyer friend, and we can meet this morning.”
“Oh! No, I mean, yes. I could use some legal advice, but that’s not why I’m calling.”
I rubbed my brow. “I don’t understand.”
“Listen.” Her voice lowered. “I can’t stand the idea of people believing I harmed Fiona, but you think I’m innocent, right?”
“I also told you the one to convince is Detective Barrett.” I gripped the phone, not sure where this conversation was going.
“That’s why I did some digging. Chloe, I figured out who killed Fiona.”
My breath held for several beats. “You should talk to Detective Barrett then.” I hoped my visit yesterday and our conversation didn’t push her to do something foolish.
“I’d rather run it by you first. See what you think. Can you stop by the shop this morning?”
I twisted my arm to get a look at my watch. “How’s eight thirty?” Truth be told, I was anxious to learn who she thought murdered Fiona and was excited for life to get back to normal.
“Thanks, Chloe. I’ll feel a lot safer if someone besides me knows.”
A ricochet of questions fired off in my head, but the call ended. I lost any opportunity to ask a single one. Debating whether to call Ross, I kept my finger on the phone keyboard. A second pair of ears to hear Sammy’s story would help. Not to mention, having someone I knew and trusted to tag along would bolster my confidence, in case I was wrong. What if Sammy was the guilty one and this was a scheme to lure me into some sort of ambush? I gave myself a mental slap. If she planned to do me harm, she wouldn’t ask me to meet someplace so public like her shop, would she?
I drummed my fingernails on the table, contemplating my next move. “There’s always safety in numbers.” I picked up the phone once more and made the call. I grumbled as his voice mail greeted me. “I know you’re on vacation, but wake up. Meet me near the shop by eight thirty. You can hang out by the lake. Soak in some sunshine and get rid of that pasty-white New Yorker look. Oh, and I might have a new client for you.” Nothing like the jingle of money to get a lawyer’s attention. I hung up.
I pulled a biscuit treat out of the doggy canister. Max danced around me while he barked.
“You be a good boy and keep Mom and Dad company while I’m gone.” I gave him a gentle pat on the head, then made my way to the front door.
Within five minutes, I parked along Whisper Lane leading to Artisan Alley. I was early, but Sammy had said to come as soon as possible. Grabbing my bag from the passenger seat, I hurried across the road and past Paint with a View. The darkened windows indicated Willow hadn’t shown up yet. I shifted my gaze toward the lake and sighed. Neither had Ross. Pulling my shoulders back, I continued toward Quaint Décor. I tapped out a quick text to tell Ross I’d be at Sammy’s and to meet us there.
Stepping up to the door, I read the closed sign that hung over the window pane. Of course, she wouldn’t open for business until nine. Our meeting would be private. My hand lingered above the door handle for a second. I turned to glance at the lakeshore. No visitors had arrived, except for a flock of geese pecking at the ground. Facing the door, I grabbed the handle to give it a turn but without success. I knocked on the door, then peered through the front window. No sign of Sammy. She hadn’t mentioned if she had called from the shop or home. Maybe she was running late.
Taking a seat on the stoop, I anchored elbows to my thighs, then cradled my chin in both palms. I had nothing better or more important to do. Like I’d told Ross, enjoying the lake view and getting some sun was a nice way to spend time. I closed my eyes and daydreamed of sailboat rides with Mom, Dad, and Izzie.
The cackling sound of chatter caught my attention. I turned to find Sammy’s neighbor, the one she had called Penny, standing outside her aromatherapy shop. A shingle hung sideways over the door, etched with the title, The Healing Touch. Today, Penny had her hair curled and cascading down her back. Dressed in a denim dress that to
uched her sandaled feet and with chunky turquoise jewelry on her neck, wrist, and ears, she paced the short length of her front stoop with her arm waving chaotically. “I don’t care if you want to change the date because of your appointment. Talk to your therapist. She can reschedule. People have already committed their time to our Karma Knows Best event. Flo, I love having you as a partner, but you can be a real pain in the—” Penny paced in my direction, then brought her steps to an abrupt halt. She stared at me with a dropped jaw and widened eyes. “Oh! Hello there.” She shrugged an apology and pointed at her phone before dashing inside.
No doubt the karma event would be the perfect healing solution for plenty of folks in Whisper Cove, myself included. I tapped my heels on the wooden step, then checked my watch. The second hand ticked forward. Eight thirty had passed ten minutes ago. Maybe Sammy was in the back room and hadn’t noticed the time because she was busy doing shop stuff. Anxious to move, I sprinted around back and knocked on the service door. After a minute of feeling frustrated, I trudged to the front once more.
“Hey!”
Ross stood near the lake, waving to get my attention. At least somebody had bothered to show up.
I waved back and jogged across the alley to meet him. “Glad you could pull yourself out of bed, even though you’re late.” I skidded to a stop. My grin dribbled into a puzzled frown. Dressed in cargo shorts, a bright green T-shirt screen-printed with “I love Chautauqua Lake” across the chest, and flip-flops on his feet, his attire screamed tourist. “What the heck, Ross. Who are you?”
With arms lifted, he pivoted side to side. “Don’t you approve? You always said I should step out of my comfort zone and try new things.”
“Yeah, but …” I blinked, then gave my shoulders a dismissive shrug as I sat on the ground. “Thanks for coming, but, other than enjoying the view and sunshine, I’m afraid I asked you here for nothing.”
“Is this about the new client you mentioned?” He chewed on a piece of grass.
I nodded. “My friend Sammy is in deep trouble. Maybe more than I imagined.” I explained the shop owner’s dealings with Infinity Collectibles and how she’d already attempted to cut ties with them. “They dished out their usual threats so she backed off and continued her business arrangement. Really sad situation.”
“As I see it, she’s got two choices. Give testimony about Infinity’s criminal actions or continue to run and hide.” He leaned back and, with eyes closed, lifted his face to the sky.
My jaw dropped. “That’s the best you can offer? Seriously, I could’ve come up with that idea. She’s scared, Ross. Going to the authorities with what she knows could be dangerous, and leaving Whisper Cove, her family, her dad, who might go to jail for the rest of his life, her friends, and give up the shop she worked so hard to keep?” I shook my head. “I can’t see her doing that.”
“Better than dying.” He shrugged.
I threw up my arms. “Would you stop being so dramatic?”
He opened one eye to peer at me. “Just being honest. Besides, if I don’t tell the truth, I’m giving her false hope.” His voice grew sober.
I cursed realism, but he was right. Sammy needed to be scared straight.
I sat up and faced him. “There’s more to the conversation I had with Sammy, but I need to catch you up to speed on what happened right before you came to Whisper Cove. There was a murder, you see.”
Ross turned on his side and rested his head on one arm. “I wondered when you’d get around to telling me.”
I bit down on my thumb, then stabbed him with a glare. “How did you find out?”
“Your mom told me. After I promised not to squeal, that is. Guess she figured you’d be mad.” A grin stretched his face. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“Don’t joke. This is serious, and I’m worried. Sammy swears she’s figured out who killed Fiona but refused to say anything else over the phone. That’s why we were supposed to meet.” I stuck my wrist in his face. “Twenty minutes ago. She’s not here and I’m worried.”
“You said that already.”
“Well, I am worried. More than worried, I’m terrified. What if someone overheard our phone conversation?” I shuddered. “I’m imagining all sorts of horrible outcomes.”
“Twenty minutes is nothing. I have clients who are notoriously late, sometimes by as much as an hour. Never bothers me because those are billable hours, but I understand you’re worried.” He stood and brushed off grass and dirt from his shorts. “Which is why you need to take a break, even if it’s only for a few minutes, and enjoy the beautiful morning. If Sammy wants to talk, she’ll come.” Lifting his legs high, he ran straight toward the water.
“What are you doing? Come back here.” My jaw dropped as he plopped his rear on the dock and scooted to the edge.
He took off his flip-flops and stuck both legs in the water, then stuck up his thumb. “This is so great. You should try it.”
I threw back my head and laughed. “You’re such a nut.” The warm, fuzzy feeling of the familiar tingled down to my toes, which lasted until I reminded myself we were finished. I’d told him so, hadn’t I? I turned away and tucked my knees underneath my chin. I scanned the alley and each of the shops, quaint and cheerful in appearance, until my gaze rested on Paint with a View. Willow walked around the corner and stepped up to the entrance. As she turned to face me, I waved, and she returned the gesture. Izzie was lucky for many reasons. She had a business that held promise, a great support system, and plenty of customers.
Lifting my face, I stared at the clouds. They drifted over and across the sun until they disappeared, as if leaving the sky undressed. The June day delivered on its promise to be hot and muggy. I tugged at my shirt, sticky with sweat already, and came to a decision. Though I hated to admit such a thing, Ross was right. If Sammy was that desperate to talk, she’d be here. Maybe the time had come to give Detective Barrett a call. Let him handle Sammy’s news about who had killed Fiona.
When Ross hollered for me, I wheeled around to face the lake. Though my heart wasn’t in the moment, I gave a weak smile. He stood waist deep in the water, splashing his arms. I couldn’t stop bad things from happening, just like I couldn’t save the world. It took no more than a few seconds, and I ran toward the lake.
Hopping on one foot then the other, I pulled off my sandals and tossed them in the grass. “Move over, Mr. Attorney. I’m coming in.”
Sammy never showed, but the quick dip in the lake improved my spirits. I’d called and left a message for Detective Barrett. Twice. The first was to ask him to call because I had some news. The second was to cancel the first and suggest we should talk in person. I’d added I’d be at the shop until five.
After lunch, followed by a quick cat nap on the sofa next to Max and a relaxing hour on the back porch while I read another chapter of some cheesy romance Mom had bought, I drove to the shop. Nearing the parking area, I spotted Izzie beside her jeep.
“Hey! I’m here.” I thrust my arm out of the window and waved.
“Oh, good. I was about to send you a text. I locked up the shop, but the spare key is under the welcome mat. We need to get a third set made so all three of us can carry them.” She hiccupped and took a deep breath. “Sorry. Just a teensy bit flustered, worrying and all.” She tossed her bag in the car. “The delivery people were so helpful. They agreed to make the order right and promised the goods the day after our event.” Another hiccup ended in a sigh.
I blinked. “Well, that blows. Is there somewhere else you can pick up the paints we need?”
“Absolutely. I made a call to an art supply store in Buffalo. We can get all the colors we want if we go pick up the order. In person. That’s over an hour, one way.” Her shoulders sank. “Guess what I’ll be doing tomorrow morning?”
“Sorry, Izzie. I’m sure this won’t happen again, or at least not all the time, right?”
“Spoken like a true believer in happy endings.” She slid into the driver’s seat, then fanned a l
ist at me. “I’m off to collect all the groceries Mom needs. Wish me luck.” She eyeballed the paper. “Seriously, who uses mango powder? Mom said it’s for some Indian dish she wants to try. Let’s hope this meal doesn’t give us heartburn, or worse, food poisoning.” She pulled out onto the road and winked as she stopped alongside me. “Namaste! See you at dinner.”
“Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll stop at Bob’s and bring home barbecue,” I teased.
She wagged a finger. “Don’t you dare. Mom will get even and feed you quinoa every day for the next month to clear your digestive system of impurities. Her words, not mine.”
I tapped my lip. “Decisions, decisions.” In the next second, I busted loose with laughter. “Go on. Get your shopping finished. I’ll see you at home in a couple of hours.”
She waved and sped out of the alley.
Grabbing the cheesy romance novel and a thermos of tea from the back seat and my bag from the front, I clicked the remote lock button. Hardly any vehicles were parked nearby. Besides that, I counted only a handful of people near the lake and boat dock, lingering to catch the afternoon sun or a last boat ride before sunset. The row of shops looked vacant, with no sign of customers going in or coming out, which worried me. Summertime was the retail bonus season for merchants. By winter, most visitors vacationing in western New York flocked to ski resort towns like Ellicottville, leaving Whisper Cove almost deserted until late spring.
Of course, tomorrow might turn out to be another story. Shoppers and retail proved time and time again to be fickle. I shoved the paperback in my bag, then bent over to flip the mat and retrieve the key. Once inside, I switched on the lights. Every station was set up, just like the other evening. I shivered. This was the first time I’d been alone in the shop since Fiona’s murder. A cold and clammy sense of dread slid through me. How could anyone do something like that to another human being? I set my things on the counter and forced my thoughts to go elsewhere. Rubbing my arms melted the chill that nipped at me.
A Brush with Murder Page 11