Liss barely managed not to blurt out the first thought that popped into her head—He’s not that crazy! would not go over well. Vi could twist Mac MacCrimmon around her little finger most of the time, but this was different. For one thing, to do such a thing could be dangerous. Assuming that there was a murderer out at Pilgrim Farm, the killer wouldn’t look kindly on anyone snooping around. Furthermore, if Margaret was right about her friend Susan, not one but two Pilgrims had fallen victim to foul play.
Realizing that she was pacing, Liss came to a halt with her back to the display window. “It won’t work. One of them will realize you’re related to me and they’ll turn you away.”
“I’ll tell them we’re estranged.”
“We will be if you keep this up.”
“Liss, dear, give me some credit. I was quite a good actress when I was younger. I’m sure I can convince Spinner and his followers of my sincerity.”
“Maybe you can, but Daddy is much too easy to read. They’ll throw the two of you out on your . . . ears before you’re halfway through your pitch.”
“Well, then, you have nothing to worry about, do you?”
Liss was ready to tear out clumps of her own hair from sheer frustration. “I can’t believe how stubborn you’re being about this.”
“No, I don’t suppose you can. Just as you never see that this is exactly the same reaction you provoke in other people when you doggedly pursue your own course against the counsel of friends, relatives, and members of the law enforcement community.”
“What?” Liss could hardly believe what she was hearing.
“We’re more alike than you want to admit.”
Liss opened her mouth and closed it again. She didn’t buy that comparison for a moment, but at the same time she had a feeling she’d be fighting a losing battle if she continued to try to talk her mother out of this foolhardy attempt to “help” the police solve Jasper Spinner’s murder.
Calm down, she ordered herself. Think.
“You’d have to wear one of those long, unflattering dresses,” she said aloud, “and twist your hair into an ugly bun or wear it in braids.”
Vi had unbuttoned her coat but hadn’t taken it off. Underneath she wore tailored cranberry-colored wool slacks and a knit top bordered with cream, green, and pale pink stripes. She glanced down at the ensemble but didn’t miss a beat.
“I’ve worn dowdy costumes in the past. Did you know I played one of the leads in The Crucible in college?”
“Spinner will send you out to do housework.”
“I’ve scrubbed floors before, too.”
“Not recently, you haven’t.”
Vi had hired someone to come in once a week to clean the house when the MacCrimmons lived in Arizona. Before that, back when Liss was a girl, she’d assigned the chores she liked least to her daughter. It was no wonder that Liss had developed an aversion to washing windows. Ironing came in a close second on her never-do-again list.
Losing patience, Liss pulled out the big guns. “There’s another reason why you shouldn’t try to join up.”
“What’s that, dear?”
“Your health. Those dizzy spells.”
“I haven’t had another one. I’m fine.”
“Haven’t had another since the one I witnessed? Mom, that was only two days ago.”
“This is exactly why I don’t share my health issues with you. You worry too much. You fuss.”
“I fuss?” Liss caught herself sputtering and pressed her lips tightly together.
“I know what I’m doing,” Vi insisted.
“You’re too old.” Liss clamped both hands over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, even if it was the truth.
Vi recoiled as if she’d been struck. All the vitality seemed to drain out of her. “That’s a terrible thing to say,” she whispered. “A person is only as old as she feels.”
The tremor in her voice made Liss feel like a worm. Riven with guilt, one part of her wanted nothing more than to take back what she’d said. Another part was desperate enough to play any card she was dealt. She squared her shoulders and hardened her heart.
“I’m sorry I said that, Mom, but look at the facts. Hadley Spinner is the oldest of the Pilgrims and he’s fifteen or twenty years your junior. Most of the others are considerably younger than that. On physical strength alone, you and Daddy would be outmatched.”
Violet’s recovery was so fast that it made Liss’s head spin. “Nice try.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I know I can pull this off. This old girl still has a few tricks left in her.”
Liss rolled her eyes. “Will you stop and think this through? You can’t just go barging in with no plan.”
“I don’t see why not.” Vi started toward the door. “I’m very good at improvising.”
As Liss watched her mother’s progress, her gaze also encompassed the view through the plate-glass display window.
“Mom, wait. Look.” She pointed. “There in the town square.”
Since Vi already had the door partway open, they both stepped out onto the porch. It was chilly, but not unbearably so, and Liss was too interested in the scene in front of her to go back inside for a jacket. A solitary picket marched along the paths. She couldn’t tell which Pilgrim he was, but she could see that he kept turning his head so that he was always looking right back at her. It wasn’t just the cooler air that made her shiver. She had the uneasy sense that he was only there to keep an eye on the Emporium.
“He was there earlier,” Vi said. “He’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“He’s staring right at us, Mom. He probably saw you come in and he definitely knows you’re standing here now. If you show up at Pilgrim Farm, claiming we’re estranged, he’ll know it’s a lie.”
Violet said a word Liss had never expected to hear coming out of her mother’s mouth.
“Mom!”
“Well,” Vi said with a philosophical shrug, “unless you want to stage a knock-down, drag-out fight just to impress him, I guess I’ll just have to think of some other way to help you identify the murderer.”
Despite Liss’s earlier inclination, this now struck her as a very bad idea, especially if meddling in the case ended up putting her mother in danger.
“Forget it, Mom. I’m not going to try to solve Jasper’s murder and neither are you. We’re done.” She meant every word. “It’s too risky.”
“Oh, Liss.” Vi wagged a finger at her. “You and I both know that you won’t be able to help yourself. You want to discover the truth and you won’t back down until you do.”
“How can you possibly be so certain of that?” She told herself that giving up was the sensible thing to do. The police, officers trained to solve crimes and paid to take risks, should be the ones responsible for figuring out who killed Jasper Spinner.
“I know,” Vi said, “because the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. You may not want to believe this, but I’m going to repeat what I said to you earlier. You and I are a lot alike. That’s probably the reason we keep bumping heads.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to go vote. I told your father I’d meet him at the polls at one.”
And with that, she was off the porch and headed across the town square toward the municipal building.
“You’re wrong,” Liss muttered under her breath.
She watched as Vi’s path crossed that of the picketing Pilgrim and winced when her mother waggled her fingers at him in a cheery little wave.
“No, Mom. No way. We couldn’t be more different if we tried.”
Chapter Nine
Liss was in the stockroom a few hours later when she heard the bell over the shop door jingle. “Be out in a minute!” she called.
“It’s only me, honey.” That was her father’s voice, and by the time Liss had finished taping a shipping carton closed, he’d made his way back to her.
“Well, this is a lovely surprise.” Stepping around various packing materials, she ga
ve him a hug. “What brings you back downtown? I hear you came in to vote earlier this afternoon.”
“I just wanted to see you . . . and this.”
He turned so that he was looking into Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium, the store he’d once owned and managed with his sister, Margaret. With a sense of surprise, Liss realized this was the first time he’d come into the Emporium since his return to Maine.
Although there was no particular reason why it should, that knowledge made Liss nervous. What if he didn’t approve of the changes she’d made?
As he turned to survey the stockroom shelves and worktable with sharp-eyed interest, Liss’s discomfort increased. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he spoke. “You’ve done a good job here, Liss.”
“Thank you. I try.”
“You succeed.”
“Walk-in traffic has declined since your day.”
“That’s true everywhere. Internet shopping was an idea in its infancy back then. You’ve built up both the mail-order and the online business. I bet your bottom line is far better than mine ever was. And I like your selection of gift items.”
“You’ve barely had time to do more than glance at them.”
“I’ve browsed on your Web site.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. She knew her parents owned at least one tablet but she’d never seen either of them do anything on it but read books. They loved being able to enlarge the font to avoid eyestrain.
“Don’t let me interrupt you.” Mac gestured to the neatly lined up items ready to be boxed for shipment and the stack of packing slips next to them. “We can talk while you work if that won’t distract you too much.”
“Talk away.”
Liss reached for a flattened cardboard box of the correct size to hold a stuffed Loch Ness Monster, folded the sides into shape and taped them, added bubble wrap and the toy Nessie, topped it off with more bubble wrap pulled off a huge roll of the stuff that sat on the shelf behind her, and tucked the packing slip in before she folded down the final flaps and sealed the package. The mailing label was already printed and ready to be stuck on. Once she’d done that, she added the box to the pile waiting to be taken to the post office.
“Very efficient,” her father said.
“So what brings you here?” Liss reached for the next item to be shipped, a Christmas ornament in the shape of a Scottish dancer.
Instead of answering, Mac came around the worktable and pulled off a length of bubble wrap, ready to pass it to her as needed. She smiled up at him, but shook her head. “You’ll break my rhythm if you try to help.” She plucked several items off the to-be-packed pile, collected their paperwork, and handed everything to her father. “Here, wrap your own.”
The table was long enough to allow two people to work at the same time, assuming that both of them knew what they were doing. Mac MacCrimmon was no amateur. “Just like riding a bike,” he said after a few minutes. “The muscle memory comes right back.”
They worked in companionable silence for a short time. Liss knew her father had something on his mind and suspected it had to do with her mother, but she was in no hurry to hear what he had to say. After a while, though, the lack of conversation began to bother her.
“So,” she said. “What’s new?”
“I hear you put the kibosh on Vi’s brilliant scheme to clear Margaret of suspicion.”
A great swath of bubble wrap in her hands, Liss paused to stare at him. “She told you?”
“Of course she did. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”
Liss wondered what he called it when Vi made plans for both of them without consulting him until they were complete, but she decided not to ask.
“It would never have worked,” Mac went on. “Our chances of convincing the Pills that we were serious about joining up were nil to start with. Hadley Spinner may be obnoxious, but he’s not stupid.”
“You know him?”
Mac shrugged. “Only what I’ve heard. Your mother and I were already in Arizona by the time he turned up here. Still, it’s pretty obvious he’s no dope. It takes smarts and hard work to survive a subsistence-level existence for so many years.”
Liss thought about that as she resumed wrapping a china cat wearing a Balmoral cap and a tartan sash. Her father boxed up a tin of canned haggis. Given the address—a college fraternity house—she had a feeling the haggis had been ordered as a gag gift. The pun did not escape her notice.
“Well,” she said as she smoothed the label into place, “I’m glad I was able to talk some sense into her. I don’t know what I would have done if Mom had insisted on going through with her plan to infiltrate the New Age Pilgrims. I know she thought it was a great idea, but it had disaster written all over it.”
“She’s at loose ends,” Mac said. “That’s why she’s so determined to . . . help.”
“How is that possible? She’s been connecting with old friends and checking out possibilities for a permanent place to live.” The retirement community currently being constructed on the outskirts of Moosetookalook was the lead contender. “And she had all the Halloween plans to oversee.”
They reached for more bubble wrap at the same time, bumped hands, and laughed. “Ladies first,” Mac said.
Another short silence fell.
“Life here is very different from what we were used to in Arizona.”
“I can imagine.”
“Can you? You’re used to a quiet lifestyle. Where we were living, there was always something going on. To tell you the truth, there were way too many things to keep us busy.”
“You didn’t have to do them all.”
“That’s so, and I actually enjoyed shuffleboard at first. I even won a couple of tournaments. But you wouldn’t believe how cutthroat some of those teams are.” Although he was shaking his head, the expression on his face suggested that he had fond memories of the sport. “In the end, that took all the fun out of it for me. Now, your mother, she had a great time from the moment she retired from teaching. She took all kinds of classes—yoga, belly dancing, even—”
“Belly dancing? My mother?”
Mac chuckled. “Your mother. But one by one, those things started to pale, and so did the sameness of the weather. We both missed the changing seasons. I know you find this hard to believe, but we even missed those mornings that are well below freezing. And then there were all the rules and regulations in the community where we lived. Your mother wasn’t allowed to hang clothes outside to dry in the sun and fresh air—too unsightly. Our lawn had to look just like all our neighbors’ lawns. And, horror of horrors, I wasn’t permitted to play my bagpipes in a residential area. I had to go to a nearby park to practice and even there people complained about the noise pollution.”
He smiled again as he told the tale, but Liss didn’t smile back. She’d been under the impression that he’d played in the park by choice, so that he’d have an audience. It broke her heart that people had tried to prevent him from enjoying his favorite pastime.
“It’s too bad you couldn’t soundproof a room, the way you did here.”
“I’d have done that in a minute if there hadn’t been rules against that, too. They weren’t very big on DIY projects where we lived.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. In the end, everything worked out for the best. Once we started thinking about relocating, we realized we’d just as soon move all the way back to a place where we could do as we damned well pleased.” Mac slapped package tape onto a box with a bit more force than necessary, then looked sheepish. “No harm done. It doesn’t contain anything breakable.”
Liss couldn’t resist teasing him. “No delicate bisque figurines? No china teacup decorated with a clan crest?”
“Just a ladies’ tartan sash.”
“You know, you may not have as much freedom as you’d like if you settle in that new retirement community.”
“That thought has already crossed my mind. Your mother’s, too. One thing’s certain, though
, even if it hasn’t been all sunshine and roses. We made the right choice when we decided to come home to Moosetookalook.” At her questioning look, he elaborated. “Too many of our old friends from Maine are either dead or living elsewhere now. And Vi misses having a wide circle of acquaintances to hang out with. Used to be she could walk down to the clubhouse and she’d be sure to run into someone she knew. There were lots of stores nearby, too. You know how much your mother loves to shop, even though she never buys all that much.”
Her hands once more busy with the packing, taping, and labeling, Liss didn’t look up. “I’d think Mom would be able to find clubs to join. There are plenty of them around. Look how many organizations Margaret has become a member of since she retired.”
“That’s part of the problem. Vi doesn’t want to be perceived as her sister-in-law’s shadow. If Margaret already belongs to a group, Vi deliberately avoids it.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Mac shrugged.
When the obvious finally struck her, Liss sent her father a considering look. “Let me get this straight. Mom doesn’t want to be Margaret’s shadow, but she doesn’t mind being mine?”
He chuckled. “That’s about the size of it.”
“And that’s why she’s been pushing me to get involved in investigating a murder and letting her help me? She’s bored because she has too much time on her hands?”
“It’s not just that. She admires you, honey. She’s proud of what you’ve accomplished, not just here in the shop, but in what you give back to the community.”
Liss stopped what she was doing to stare at him in disbelief. “She’s never said so.”
“Vi’s not one to lavish praise.”
“No kidding. She’s always been much better at expressing disapproval.”
Mac sighed deeply before he spoke. “You never did try to understand her.”
Liss could sense her father’s disappointment as a palpable force. It left her feeling guilty and irritable in equal parts.
“I don’t want to quarrel with you about this. Can we just drop the subject?”
“That’s probably best.”
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