As if Mother Nature was taking pity on us, the day brought plenty of sunshine, and a strong breeze off the lake tempered the summer heat. I examined my stack of flyers, which had thinned to almost nothing. On impulse, I walked into Millie’s Diner. Millie’s husband stood behind the counter. I placed the remainder of the flyers beside the register. “Please hand these out to your customers. You don’t mind, do you? Thanks, Sal.” Before he opened his mouth, I hurried outside and crashed into Ross. “Hey there.” I anchored fists to hips. “You haven’t left town yet?”
He tilted his head. “Come on. We had a nice lunch together yesterday, didn’t we? And why would I leave without saying goodbye? Besides, I called the shop this morning. The car isn’t ready yet. He ordered the wrong part and needs to start over.”
I locked my lips to stifle a laugh.
“I guess he’s not used to working on luxury models.” Ross shoved his hands in his pockets.
“No, I suppose not.” Jake Marino ran the only car repair shop in town. He wasn’t high-tech, but he knew his way around a carburetor and could rebuild an engine in record time, as long as the make was domestic. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if “Made in America” was tattooed on his chest. “Looks like you’ll be sticking around a few more days.”
“I guess I’ll have time to come over for dinner. If the invitation’s still open, that is. Is it?” The sheepish expression with that pouty mouth and the hangdog eyes pulled me in and softened my resistance.
“Lunch wasn’t enough, huh? Sure. How about tomorrow evening? At six. Mom’s a stickler for routine when it comes to meals. Something about keeping a healthy digestive system, which I’d rather not discuss.”
“I’ll be there. Should I bring wine? Flowers? Chocolates? For your mom, I mean, since she’s the hostess.” He wiped his brow.
An inward groan traveled from my chest to my gut as I recalled Izzie’s comment. “Flowers would be nice. My parents have an entire wall rack in the basement filled with wine.”
“Okay then. It’s a date.” He winked then jogged down the sidewalk.
“Seriously? It’s not a date. We’re just friends, remember?” Clenching my fists, I hollered after him, but he kept moving. “Unbelievable.”
“What is?” Izzie leaned over my shoulder.
“Yikes!” I spun around. “Where did you come from? Never mind. Are we done? I need an energy fix, and Mom’s quinoa mystery snack isn’t doing the job.”
“My lord. You’re in a foul mood.” Izzie hiked the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
“Ross.”
“Ah, Ross. Got it.” She nodded, then linked her arm through mine. “I have a handful of flyers left, but if we take a quick walk along the lake—”
“Or you could leave the rest in Millie’s like I did.” A sheepish grin popped out.
“Leave it to you to take shortcuts. Come on. Ten more minutes?” She split her flyers and handed me half. “We divide and finish in five. Please?”
“You’re a cruel boss. Good thing I love you.” I held up my hand. “Five minutes. If I have any flyers left after that, I’m feeding them to the ducks.”
“Which I’m sure they’ll enjoy.” She pulled me along Whisper Lane, toward Artisan Alley and the lake, where we parted. “You start here. I’ll head over to the north end of the lake and work my way back.”
A dozen or so boaters were hanging out by a nearby dock. I jogged toward them. After a quick pitch of our event, I handed each of them a flyer. Eyeing the case of soda one of them placed in a cooler, I suddenly craved something to quench my thirst. Turning on my heel, I headed back to the shop, but took no more than a few steps. I recognized the man walking his dog along the path and smiled. “Perfect.”
In seconds, Major planted his furry paws on my chest and licked my face.
I peered beyond the fur and wet tongue to gaze at Grayson. “Hey. Remember me? The New York runaway who returned home?”
He smiled and showed his perfect teeth. This time, I noticed the Cary Grant cleft in his chin.
“Chloe Abbington. This is becoming our spot, isn’t it?”
“Our spot? Hmm, yeah. I guess.” I scratched the top of Major’s head, thinking of what to say next. Asking about his argument with Megan would be too abrupt and intrusive. I’d have to find another way, somehow. “Oh, here. You mentioned you might be interested.” I shoved the last flyer at him. “Paint Your Pet night is Wednesday evening. Maybe you’ll come? I mean, if you aren’t busy, that is.” Talk about awkward. I should swallow my tongue and never speak again.
“That would be great. Major loves the attention, and a portrait of him hung above the fireplace would stroke his ego.” He snapped his fingers. “Before I forget, did you read today’s Gazette? I placed a full-page ad about my bonfire party. It’s this Friday. I’m celebrating the finish of my sculpture. The commission I get will keep Major in dog kibble for the rest of his life and then some. Anyway, there will be plenty of food, music, and hopefully guests. Say you’ll come.”
“Come to what?” Izzie stepped next to me.
“Izzie!” I fixed an expression on my face that, with any luck, didn’t show the emotions I was feeling, embarrassment being at the top of the list. “You remember Grayson. We ran into him in front of Sammy’s.”
“Sure do.” Her lips narrowed, but at least they turned up at the edges in some sort of welcoming smile.
“He was telling me about his bonfire party Friday evening, and we’re invited. That’s nice. Isn’t that nice?” I struggled to calm my heartbeat.
“Very, very nice.” She tapped her watch. “We should go. Lots to do at the shop.”
“Right. We’ll be there Friday. I’m anxious to see that sculpture. Bye, Major. You be a good boy.” I patted his head and then followed Izzie across the lawn. “You didn’t have to be so rude.” I wondered if Izzie knew more about Grayson than she was letting on. What if Megan had told her about the argument she’d had with him at the Blue Whale? I ran my fingers through my hair. I so hated keeping secrets.
“I was being polite. Not all giddy and excited like you.” Izzie opened the front door to the shop.
“I was not giddy. I was genuinely polite, unlike your fake attempt.” I stepped inside. “Hi, Willow.” My eyes popped. “Willow! You’re here.”
“Where else would I be?” She stacked paper plates and towels on the table.
“For one, we thought you were still sick. According to the rumors, you should be in a hospital dying of some tropical disease,” Izzie said.
“Stop. Be nice.” I aimed a scowl at her, then turned. “Don’t mind my sister. Too much sun and coffee. So you’re better. That’s a relief. We were worried about you.”
“I think it was some kind of stomach bug. I feel great now. You want these set at the stations or should we wait until Wednesday?” She held up the plates and paper towels.
“Wednesday is fine.” Izzie lifted her chin. “Sorry about what I said. Chloe’s right. When I’m cranky, my sense of humor goes dark.”
“No problem.” She pointed to the lake. “I see you were handing out flyers. Did you happen to walk along the other end of the alley? I noticed Megan’s shop is up for sale. Weird, right? I mean, isn’t she your best friend, Izzie? You never mentioned anything.” Willow sat in a chair and leaned back to take a swig of her water.
Izzie blinked. “I’m sure if she was selling her shop, she would’ve told me. You must be mistaken. Besides, I was down that way a few minutes ago. I’d have noticed a for-sale sign.”
“The sign is in the front window. Maybe you didn’t look closely enough.” Her chin lifted.
“Chloe, go ahead and work on those pet sketches. I’ll be right back.” Izzie snatched her bag off the counter and marched out of the shop.
I kept my gaze on Izzie as she maintained her angry gait across the walk and angled right toward Megan’s.
“She seems upset.” Willow cradled the paper towels and plates in her arms.
I shi
fted my gaze and stared blankly at her. Naïve? Intentionally mean? Or maybe shallow? I didn’t know how to explain Willow’s behavior, although intentionally mean was a strong contender. Then again, we’d only met less than two weeks ago. “Why don’t you pull out the paint colors we’ll need for the event and set them next to the plates and paper towels in the cupboard while I work on the sketches. Okay?”
“Um, sure.” She pivoted on her heel and stalked to the storage room.
Without meaning to, I felt defensive of Izzie. Scolding Willow for her comments wouldn’t help. We had to work together. Besides, I counted on her apologizing to Izzie. If she was that clueless, I’d suggest the idea to her. Satisfied, I grabbed blank canvases from the cabinet and opened the laptop to find the pet photos. Staring at an image of a Maine coon cat twice or maybe three times the size of Max, I shuddered. “We’re going to need a bigger canvas to fit this one.”
Fifteen minutes later, Willow walked out of the storage room with a plastic tray. Finding the paint colors couldn’t have taken that long. Intentional or not, I appreciated the timeout she’d given me.
“Did you finish handing out all the flyers? I could take another trip across town and hand out more, if you like.” Willow set the tray of paints on the counter.
“No, we finished. People along the lake took the rest.” I spied the Gazette on the far end station. I walked over and picked it up.
“Well, that’s good.”
“Yeah, it is. Ah, here’s the ad he talked about.” I spoke the thought aloud.
“What ad?”
“Hmm?” I looked up. “Oh, right. A summer visitor we ran into—he was walking his dog—invited Izzie and me to a bonfire this Friday. He mentioned putting an ad in the Gazette.” I whistled. “When he said full page, he wasn’t kidding.”
“A bonfire?” She blinked, then lowered her head to stare at the tray of paints. “I’ve never been to one. Sounds like fun.”
“You should go, then. Grayson is inviting the whole town. Nice, right?”
She glanced up and smiled. “Maybe I will. Who’s Grayson?”
“Grayson Stone. He’s staying at a friend’s condo along the lake for the summer to finish his sculpture.”
“An artist. How perfect.” She turned to store the paints in the cupboard.
“How’s the boy drama going?” I sat in the chair once more and searched through the box of sketching pencils.
“I’ve decided to take a break. Men can be such slime sometimes.” She scowled and slammed the cupboard door.
“Huh. Well put. I’m in boyfriend limbo at the moment. Ross—he’s my ex—decided to travel from New York to Whisper Cove and beg me to get back together.”
“Ouch.” She winced. “How’d that go?”
“Well, since I broke up with him in the first place, round two and my response didn’t go the way he planned.” I chose a pencil and drew the outline of the Maine coon.
“Poor guy.” She wagged her head. “Probably sulked all the way back to New York.”
I pointed my pencil at her. “Now, see that’s where you’re wrong. He’s still in town. His excuse is he’s taking a vacation. Ross Thompson never takes a vacation.”
“How romantic. He wants you so much he won’t give up.” She winked.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “If that’s the case, he’ll be staying here until Christmas and beyond because the answer will still be no.” I pictured his sad, puppy dog eyes when I’d told him we were still over and the giddy smile when he had jumped into the lake. I gave my head a hard shake and squeezed my eyes shut to erase those images.
The door chimes tinkled. I turned. Hunter shrugged out of his jacket, then raked fingers through his windblown hair. I didn’t need that visual either.
“Detective Hunter. What brings you to our quaint and cozy little shop today?” I rested my elbow on the table and leaned my head against an open palm. “Care to try your talent and sketch cute puppies and kittens on canvases?”
He chuckled. “In another world, I’d love to. In this one, I have a murder case to solve.” He held out his jacket and turned his head side to side. “Care if I hang this somewhere?”
“I’ll take it. We have coat hooks in the back.” Willow took the jacket and disappeared into the storage room.
“Seriously, why are you here?” I scooted forward in my seat. “Have you solved the case?”
“Not yet.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is your sister around?”
“She stepped out for a bit. Why? More questions?” I straightened.
“For one, I’m still waiting for her to tell me where she was the night of the murder.”
I gestured with the wave of my arm. “Why don’t you sit? You look uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine.”
It took all of five seconds and he pulled a chair closer to me and sat.
I bit my lip to fight the urge to smile. “Any other reason you’re here?”
“I noticed Megan Hunt’s shop is up for sale.”
“Yes, and?”
“I thought maybe Izzie knew more details. She and Megan are good friends, aren’t they?”
I shifted in my seat. “I thought you had a murder case to solve?”
“I do.” He drummed his fingers on his thighs.
I pointed at him. “Then how does your investigation involve Megan selling her property?”
“She’s a person of interest, which means anything she does becomes part of my investigation. I find it strange she’d put her shop up for sale less than two weeks after Fiona’s murder. I need to know why she’s selling and leaving town.”
“Who said anything about leaving town? You’re making assumptions, which I know you hate. Megan has family in Whisper Cove. She’s lived here her whole life. Maybe she wants a change. To take a different career path. People do that, you know.” I snapped, lost my cool, and went on the defensive, which had less to do with Megan and more to do with me. After all, I had escaped New York and abandoned my dream career of becoming a successful artist. Nobody should judge. Not even Hunter Barrett.
He held up both hands. “Whoa. You’re right, and I apologize. I have no idea what her plan is beyond selling the shop, but I find the timing of her actions suspicious.”
I flashed on another image. Megan holding out a casserole dish while exposing the scratches on her wrists. “Well, you’re forgiven because I have no idea either.”
“Good. Now that we have that settled, I should go.” He stood.
I rolled the sketching pencil between my fingers. “I take it you haven’t heard any news about Sammy?”
“Nothing. We’ve expanded the search to cover a wider area. If you hear anything, you’ll let me know, won’t you?” The look in his eyes deepened with concern.
“Of course.” I jiggled the mouse to bring up the photo of the Maine coon on the laptop screen again, debating whether to mention my conversation with Nell. The fact that Sammy had left town in a hurry and forgot to set the light timer wouldn’t help him find her. On the other hand, Nell’s comment that I didn’t exactly look like the woman with Sammy the day she left would put me in the clear. “I should probably get back to work.” I wasn’t feeling up to a lecture about my behavior and how curiosity killed the cat, or something to that effect.
“Sure. Let me grab my jacket.” He started for the storage room then stopped. “By the way, I made a trip to the nursing home in Sinclair this morning to check on Gwen’s alibi.”
“Yeah?” I lowered my gaze as I pressed down on the canvas and broke the lead. Cursing under my breath, I grabbed another pencil. Add another secret to the tall stack of them I was keeping. If I confessed the story of my call to the nursing home, everything else I’d done this morning and afternoon to interfere in his murder investigation would come tumbling out. Nerves, guilt, and the need to come clean would be my downfall.
“Funny thing. In my conversation with the head nurse, I learned someone claiming to be Gwen had called there yesterday
morning to ask about Tressa Finch. What a coincidence, right?”
“Uh, huh. Strange coincidence.” I added more pencil strokes to the Maine coon sketch. My stomach lurched. He clearly suspected I was the one who had called.
“Something about coincidences bothers me, which is why I stopped by to see Gwen. Turns out she and Penny had been visiting townsfolk all morning to collect last-minute donations for the upcoming sailboat race.” He returned to where I sat and leaned close. “Now, I know you’re too smart to do anything foolish, like pretending to be someone you’re not to get private medical information.”
I snapped my head around and scowled. “Well, did you find out she was lying about visiting her sister-in-law? Is that why you’re bringing this up?”
“No.”
“Good.” I sketched the finishing touches on the Maine coon, then set the canvas aside.
“Great.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“What did you find out?” I just couldn’t help myself. The smirk on his face told me he realized how curious I was.
“Probably no more than you did. That place keeps horrible records. No sign-in register. Even worse luck, a power outage zapped their computers the day Fiona was murdered and wiped out all the entries for that week.”
“Huh.” I cocked my head. “What you’re saying is you learned nothing to incriminate Gwen.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s innocent.”
“Yeah, but it means something.” My voice lifted at the end and I grinned.
“Here’s your jacket.” Willow came out of the storage room.
“Thanks.” He turned to leave. Reaching the door, he added, “I’ll be seeing you around, Chloe.”
“Bye, Hunter.” I stared after him for a moment, then focused on the next sketch.
“Looks like your ex has some competition.” Willow sat next to me.
My cheeks burned. “That’s crazy. I don’t care about either one of them.”
“Yeah, but they both care about you.” She laughed and bounced out of her seat. Snatching her bag from behind the counter, she headed toward the front door. “I’m stopping at Bob’s for a bite. You don’t mind if I take a longer break to run to the bank and do some other errands, do you?”
A Brush with Murder Page 17