A Likely Story

by Jenn McKinlay

  “Yeah, thanks,” Beth said. She tucked her hands under her arms to keep herself from chewing.

  “How’s it going?” Lindsey asked.

  “Well, he hasn’t run away—yet,” Beth said.

  Lindsey glanced across the table and noted that Aidan was discussing his upbringing on a farm in the Berkshires. Both Nancy and Violet were nodding, while Charlene was making notes on the memo app on her phone.

  She met Lindsey’s gaze and said behind her hand, “I’ll be doing some fact-checking later.”

  “Ever the reporter,” Lindsey said.

  She glanced at Aidan and saw that a fine sheen of sweat had popped out on his brow. Poor guy. The jukebox in the corner was quiet, so Lindsey strolled over and popped in some quarters. Interrogations were always better when put to music. As a honky-tonk tune about drinking came on, she moved behind Aidan’s chair and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Come on, big fella. Dance with me,” she said.

  The man catapulted out of his chair as if she’d thrown him a life preserver. Little did he know, he had just passed one of Lindsey’s tests. Even if the man couldn’t dance for beans, the fact that he went willingly to the dance floor was a check in the keeper column. Of course, he was probably just relieved to escape his jailers. Still, he went.

  “Lindsey,” Violet huffed. “We were just getting to the good stuff.”

  “You’ve had your turn. Besides, I’ll bring him right back,” she said. She leaned close to Beth and said, “Cut in about halfway through the song.”

  Beth nodded and smiled as Lindsey stepped into Aidan’s arms and they began to work their way around the tiny dance floor. Okay, two checks in the keeper column. He was no Joaquín Cortés, but he wasn’t squashing her toes either.

  “Thank you,” Aidan said. “I’m not usually easily intimidated, but the ladies are . . .”

  “Intense?” Lindsey asked.

  “A smidge,” he said, and Lindsey laughed.

  “You clearly have a gift for understatement,” she said.

  He smiled, and Lindsey decided right then and there that he was A-OK. His smile reached his eyes, and in their warm gaze she saw just the sort of good guy Beth deserved to have in her life.

  “I know about Beth’s ex Ernie or Rick or whatever his real name was,” Aidan said.

  “Ernie.”

  “She deserves so much more than that,” he said. “I’m trying to convince her to start writing again.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, she’s too brilliant not to be published,” he said.

  “Done and done,” Lindsey said and stopped dancing. Her decision was made. Aidan was perfect for Beth.

  “I’m sorry, what?” he asked.

  “Excuse me, may I cut in?” Beth asked as she stepped up beside them.

  “Absolutely,” Lindsey said. “And I’m going to call the dogs off. You’ve got a good one here.”

  Beth grinned. “I think so, too.”

  Aidan looked bemused, and Beth tried to give him a stern look, but it was belied by the twinkle in her eyes.

  “But I’m still taking it slow,” she said to him.

  Now Aidan smiled at her, looking just as smitten, and said, “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

  Beth practically swooned into his arms, and Lindsey went back to the table feeling satisfied that her best friend was going to be just fine.

  “He’s a keeper,” she said.

  Violet, Nancy and Charlene all nodded.

  “After reviewing the facts, we have come to the same conclusion,” Nancy said.

  They all turned to look at the dance floor where Beth and Aidan were staring into each other’s eyes.

  “Who is Beth dancing with? Do I need to break that up, or should I say break him up?”

  Lindsey turned back around to see Ian standing beside their table, looking like he was ready to crack some skulls; well, Aidan’s, at any rate.

  “No, no, we checked him out,” Charlene said. She held up her smartphone. “I even did a background check. He’s good.”

  “Background check?” Violet asked.

  “I had a friend on the New Haven P.D. check for warrants, arrest history, et cetera,” Charlene said. “He’s clean.”

  “She kind of scares me,” Nancy said to Violet.

  Violet nodded and then looked at Ian. “Stand down.”

  “Could I intimidate him just a little?” Ian asked. “You know, set their relationship off on the right note?”

  “Of fear and terror?” Mary asked as she joined them. “No.”

  Ian looked about to argue, but she jerked a thumb at the bar, letting him know where he was needed. Ian wasn’t so easily chased off. He paused to plant a kiss on Mary’s lips and look into her eyes as a slow smile spread across his face.

  Lindsey thought back to the other evening when she and Sully were here and Sully said he had a feeling that Ian and Mary were up to something. She hadn’t paid much attention at the time, but now she wondered.

  There was a reverence in the way Ian looked at his wife that hadn’t been there before. He’d always been besotted with Mary and was quite charmingly vocal about it, but this, this was different.

  His hand slid across her flat stomach, and Mary put her hand over his for just the briefest moment. Lindsey gasped. When Mary turned to look at her, she turned it into a hacking cough, which wasn’t much of an act given that she had managed to suck some of her own spit into her windpipe and was choking on it.

  “Are you all right, Lindsey?” Mary asked.

  Lindsey nodded as her eyes watered up and she forced herself to stop coughing. “Frog in my throat.”

  “Well, come on and dance it out.”

  Lindsey turned to find Milton standing there, holding his arm out to her.

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?” she asked and pointed to the small bandage on his forehead.

  “Of course,” he said. He waved away her concern as if she was too silly to be taken seriously.

  “Where’s Ms. Cole?” she asked.

  “Still annoyed with me,” he said. “I’m hoping some time apart will soften her feelings.”

  “Well, don’t give her too much space,” Lindsey cautioned. “One thing men never seem to understand is that when a woman is done, she’s done. There’s no going back.”

  “Understood,” he said. “I’m giving her space, but I’m also sending flowers and chocolates. I’ll woo her back.”

  Lindsey smiled. Milton had been the town’s resident bachelor for years after his wife passed. Ms. Cole was the first woman to give him a challenge instead of chasing him. She didn’t doubt that Milton would work his magic on the spinster sooner or later.

  He held out his arms in a very formal posture, and Lindsey mimicked him, keeping a few feet between them while they danced.

  “And now to my real purpose,” Milton said. He lowered an eyebrow at Lindsey in a chastising look. “Why didn’t you come to me with your list of names?”

  “Aw, what? Did Ronnie blab?” she asked.

  “It’s not her fault,” he said. “We met up at our seniors’ yoga class, and she asked me if I knew whatever happened to George Marzkie.”

  “Do you?” Lindsey asked.

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point,” he said. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Lindsey said.

  “Asking me questions isn’t going to cause me harm,” he said.

  “Well, I didn’t think staying late in the library was going to cause you any harm either,” she said.

  “I understand,” Milton said. “But I am the town historian.”

  “All right,” Lindsey said. “Where is George Marzkie?”

  “Last I heard, he left town to go join a commune in upstate New York in the early seventies, and no one’s heard from him since.”

  “What about the other guy on my list, Philip Carver?”

  “Dead,” he said. “No family l
eft behind.”

  Lindsey nodded. That seemed to happen quite a lot to the people the Rosens knew. She wondered if that meant something or if she was just getting pessimistic.

  “There was one other person that Ronnie didn’t know what happened to,” Lindsey said. “She said she was a young woman who worked as a maid for the family but left shortly after Dr. Rosen passed.”

  “Ah yes,” he nodded. “Betty Beller, a lovely girl with such a sunny disposition. She grew up in Hotchkiss Grove but lived on Star Island with the Rosens while she worked there. She left the area to get married.”

  “Do you think there’d be a record of her marriage in the historical society?” Lindsey asked. “I know they used to keep clippings of all the residents’ big life events in the genealogical file.”

  “There might be, because she did live on one of the islands for a time, but there might not be, because she moved away,” he said. “I can certainly look.”

  “Thanks, Milton,” she said. “By any chance did Ronnie mention that the first three islands that Evelyn Dewhurst bought were originally owned by the Alston family?”

  “No, she was a little fixated on finding George,” he said. “I think she’s having visions of a grand reunion.”

  “Oh, well, do you think it’s just coincidence that those are the islands Evelyn acquired?”

  Milton pursed his lips and then shook his head. “I can’t think of any connection off the top of my head, but who knows. I don’t generally believe in coincidence.”

  “Me either,” she said.

  “I’ll do some checking at the historical society,” he said.

  Lindsey studied him, and her concern must have shown in her face.

  “I promise I’ll be careful,” he said.

  “It might be prudent not to talk to anyone about it,” Lindsey said.

  The song on the jukebox rolled into a slow one, and she glanced over to see Beth and Aidan slow down to continue their dance. Lindsey noticed that Aidan pulled Beth close but in a respectful hold, with his hand on the middle of her back, and he leaned over her, once again in that protective way he had that spoke more than words that he considered Beth something special and dear.

  “They make a fine couple,” Milton said.

  “They really do,” she agreed.

  They turned to leave the dance floor and found Sully striding toward them.

  “I have a feeling your dance card is about to get filled,” Milton said with a smile. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Lindsey watched as Milton and Sully exchanged greetings, and then Sully was opening his arms and she was moving into him as naturally as a river rolls into the ocean.

  “Are you sure you’re up to dancing with that bump on your head?” she asked. “Sheesh, what does it say about me that both of my partners are recovering from head injuries?”

  “That you choose rough-and-tumble sorts of men. Don’t worry, I won’t bust too big of a move,” he said. He pulled her close, and she inhaled that particular bay rum scent that was all Sully. “Besides, I have a doctor’s note that green-lights me for all activity save maybe skydiving.”

  “That’s a relief,” she said. She gave him a quick hug, which he returned, bringing them even closer together and making Lindsey breathless. “I suppose Emma can stop threatening to drag you to the doctor herself now.”

  “The station was my first stop with my clean bill of health,” he said. “Interestingly enough, they had just retrieved the contents of the Rosen safe-deposit box.”

  “No!” Lindsey said. “How did they find out what bank it was in?”

  “Molly has a box in the same bank, and she recognized the key,” he said.

  “Lucky break,” Lindsey said.

  “Not really. It’s the closest bank to Briar Creek. Just about everyone banks there,” he said.

  “What was in it?” Lindsey asked. “Love letters? Family jewels? Stocks and bonds? What?”

  Sully grinned at her. “You’re just a treasure hunter at heart, aren’t you?”

  “All librarians are,” she said. “Books being our treasure of choice, naturally, but we’re game for anything, really.”

  “Well, there were no books, family jewels or love letters,” he said. “There was, however, a codicil to Dr. Rosen’s will. In it, he states that he is the father of Beatrice Beller’s child and provides for her and her child out of the family fortune.”

  “But she was, oh my . . .” Lindsey’s voice trailed off.

  “She was what?” he asked. “Do you know who she is, because no one at the station had a clue?”

  “She was the Rosen’s housemaid. Your family wasn’t here yet, so no wonder you don’t recognize the name,” Lindsey said. “She left the island shortly after Dr. Rosen died, and it was believed that she had a doctor boyfriend in New Haven that she was going to marry.”

  “Who told you this?”

  “Ronnie gave me the bulk of it, and Milton just confirmed it,” she said.

  “But how did her name come up in conversation? It’s been over fifty years since she lived here,” he said. He was getting the little vee in between his eyebrows that meant he wasn’t happy.

  “Funny story, true story,” Lindsey said. Sully did not look amused. She sighed. “Fine. So it occurred to me when I was working the reference desk that Stewart might look to someone from his past for support, so I searched back in the old Gazette microfilm, and I printed the list of people who attended Dr. Rosen’s memorial service. I thought there might be someone from the service that Stewart would seek out. Betty Beller was on the list.”

  “We have to call Emma,” he said.

  “Scale of one to ten with one being I’m fine and ten being she’s going to lock me up and throw away the key, how do you think this is going to go?” she asked.

  Sully blew out a breath. “I think you’re looking at a three, but only because your information is very valuable.”

  “I can live with a three,” Lindsey said. “I’ll call her now.”

  They left the dance floor, and Lindsey took her cell phone down the short hall by the back exit to get away from the noise of the restaurant. Sully followed her and waited beside her while the phone rang. No one picked up, and it went to voice mail. Lindsey felt like the universe was giving her a pass.

  She left a short and concise message on Emma’s voice mail about who Betty Beller was and how she had found out her information. When she hung up, Sully gave her a thumbs-up.

  “You got lucky,” he said.

  “Don’t I know it,” she agreed.

  “Come on. I’ll treat you to dinner,” he said.

  They joined the table where the crafternoon ladies sat. They were all watching Beth and Aidan, who were still dancing, and Lindsey could see approval in their eyes.

  “Isn’t this wonderful?” Violet asked the group. She raised her glass of beer. “Here’s to our Beth finding herself a keeper.”

  They all clinked glasses.

  “No one deserves it more,” Nancy said. Then she cast a sly glance at Lindsey and Sully. “It’ll be so nice to plan a wedding.”

  “Stop, just stop,” Lindsey said.

  Nancy chuckled, and Lindsey shook her head. Her friends were incorrigible, truly. Mary came back to their table and took everyone’s order. She went right out to the dance floor and took Aidan’s and Beth’s orders as well.

  Dinner was spent getting to know Aidan a bit better and in a much less inquisitorial way. He declared himself a Patriots fan, and he and Sully began to analyze their team’s last season. It was clear to all that as far as Sully was concerned, Aidan was a fine catch for Beth.

  It was at the end of the meal when Lindsey checked her phone that she saw she had a voice mail. She knew without checking that it would be from Emma. She gestured to everyone that she had a call to take and went back to the hallway where she could hear the message.

  “Lindsey, it’s Emma,” the message began. “Thanks for the details on Betty Beller. Good work. Really,
you should consider a career as a detective.”

  Lindsey cringed as Emma was not making the least effort to hide her sarcasm.

  “Seriously, when questioned, our suspect Mr. Rosen-Grant identified Betty Beller as his grandmother, giving him a solid motive to murder the two men who had control of an estate that according to the codicil, he had a right to. Looks like we’ve found our murderer. If you could bring that list of names by the station, that would be great. Bye.”

  The call ended, and Lindsey glanced up to find Sully watching her.

  “Was she mad?” he asked.

  “More like moderately annoyed, judging by her sarcasm,” Lindsey said. “And yet, she still wants the list of names, so I can’t have done too badly.”

  “So, why the long look?” Sully asked.

  “Because they’re going to arrest Steven Rosen-Grant for the murder of Peter Rosen,” Lindsey said. “And I’m not sure he did it.”

  Lindsey delivered the list of names Emma had requested the following morning on her way to work. The place was quiet with only Molly Hatcher at the front desk. The rest of the cubicles were empty.

  “Morning, Molly,” Lindsey said. “It’s quiet in here today.”

  “It sure is,” Molly said. She was a robust brunette with a big, booming voice and an equally loud laugh, the contagious sort that made you laugh with her even if you didn’t hear the joke. But today she seemed subdued.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah, they’re taking Mr. Rosen-Grant to the courthouse for a preliminary hearing,” Molly said. She lowered her voice and added, “He hasn’t said anything about Stewart’s whereabouts.”

  “Is that the theory?” Lindsey asked. “That he killed Peter and Stewart so he would inherit the estate?”

  “It’s one of them,” she said. She frowned. “He’s not very likable. He’s bitter and definitely angry, but—”

  “You don’t see him as a killer,” Lindsey said.

  Molly shook her head. “Which is stupid, because it’s not even based on fact; it’s just a gut feeling.”

  “I know what you mean,” Lindsey said.

  She thought back to the Rosen house when she’d been running for her life from Steven, but in hindsight she couldn’t help feeling like he hadn’t intended to hurt her so much as catch her. Upon learning that Kirkland was a cop, his first reaction had been to demand he arrest Sully and Lindsey. If his intentions had been bad, wouldn’t he have run or attacked Kirkland or something?