by Jan Fields
“Oh, and Sunny?” Annie added before the waitress could dash away. “Do you know if they ever found out why the lights went out at the party?”
“I dunno,” Sunny said. “But Harry bashed his knee on a table in the dark.” Sunny giggled. “It’s a good thing his kid wasn’t around right then. Harry’s got quite a mouth on him, and I’m sure that uptight ex of his wouldn’t want the kid learning any new vocabulary. Anyway, when the lights came on, Harry said old places like that sometimes have wiring problems.”
“So, are you and Harry dating regularly?”
“Dating,” She giggled again. “That’s so old-fashioned. No, Harry and I don’t date much, though he stays over at my place sometimes when he’s had a little too much fun here, if you get what I mean. Harry told me his parents were going to that shindig, and they wanted him to come. Honestly, I think he just didn’t know who else to ask. His folks aren’t real friendly people though, so I don’t know why Harry bothered. He says they’re on his case a lot.”
“Did anyone take anything from you when the lights went out?” Annie asked, not wanting to get into gossip about Harry and his family.
“No, though I think Harry was trying to grab something when he slammed into the table.” She giggled again. “I told him that’s what he gets for being a perv. I better go get your coffee. My boss can be a real jerk about my chatting up the customers.”
Sunny brought her coffee promptly but didn’t stay to talk. The coffee was hot but had a bitter burnt flavor, and Annie found herself missing The Cup & Saucer terribly. When Sunny brought her bill, Annie held it close to the candle to read the server name scrawled on the bottom—Sunny Day.
“Is Sunny Day a stage name or something?” Annie asked.
“Nope,” Sunny said. “My mom just really liked Sesame Street.”
Annie blinked at her in confusion.
“You know, the Sesame Street song?” the young woman said as she began to sing. “Sunny day, chasin’ the clouds away.”
“Oh, that’s really nice.”
“I like it,” Sunny said as she took the money Annie handed her. “I’ll be right back with your change.”
“No, you just keep the rest,” Annie said as she stood up to go.
“Oh, that’s sweet. I hope you’ll come back. I could use more customers like you.”
Annie smiled vaguely, though inwardly she vowed never to come back to the dark little place again. She gathered her purse and headed for the door. Just before she reached it, Sunny called out to her. Annie waited for the young woman to catch up with her.
“That inn was real ritzy,” Sunny said. “Do you know if they might be hiring?” She leaned a little closer to Annie. “This place is kind of a dump. With a ritzy clientele, a girl might get ahead, you know?”
“I really don’t know if they’re hiring,” Annie said.
Sunny frowned, but nodded. “Thanks anyway. I don’t suppose you know the owners? Maybe you could put in a good word?”
“I would,” Annie said. “But I am fairly new to Stony Point, and I don’t actually know the owners of Maplehurst Inn.”
“Oh.” Sunny drooped a bit, but then forced a smile. “Well, thanks for the nice tip anyway.”
“You’re welcome.”
Annie felt an instant lift in her mood when she left the shadowy restaurant and emerged on the street where the low afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm yellow glow.
Annie wasn’t completely sure what she’d learned in Storm Harbor, but she suspected she was collecting puzzle pieces. They might seem oddly shaped right now, and she didn’t know where they fit, but she still felt like she was moving ahead.
When she finally reached Grey Gables, long shadows were beginning to stretch across the lawn. Annie was surprised to see a small cherry-picker machine already parked in her spot on the drive. The long arm of the machine reached into the oak where a man cut branches with a small chain saw, while another collected them after they fell and fed them to a wood chipper.
Annie drove a bit farther and parked in Alice’s drive, and then walked back across the lawn to her own house. As she approached, the man in the tree shut off his chain saw and the other turned and waved. “Mayor Butler sent us over,” he said, tipping back his hard hat. “He said this was a rush job.”
“I’m certainly going to sleep easier knowing it’s done,” she admitted. They talked only a few minutes more, mostly about how much the job would cost, and then Annie left them to their work.
When she went in the house, she was a little surprised not to be met by Boots. The gray cat normally could be counted on to spend a while scolding Annie for leaving her alone to starve. “Boots, here kitty, kitty,” she called but no answering padding footsteps sounded. “What now?”
Annie walked nervously through the downstairs, looking for the cat. She was relieved to see that nothing seemed out of place, but she also didn’t find the cat in any of her normal napping spots. Finally, Annie climbed the stairs.
She checked her bedroom, expecting to find Boots on the bed, but although she did see a cat-shaped imprint on her quilt, she didn’t find the cat. She walked down the hall to the guest room, even though Boots never went in there.
She heard Boots growling before she saw her. The gray cat was standing on the wide windowsill, glaring out at the man in the cherry picker. The cat’s tail lashed the air, and she hissed.
“Oh Boots!” Annie said. “Those are actually the good guys.”
The cat turned and looked at her. Annie scooped Boots up and scratched the cat under the chin as she carried her out of the spare room. “Did that big machine scare you?” she cooed.
She carried Boots to the kitchen and filled her dinner bowl, which went a long way toward soothing the cat’s unsettled nerves. The tree trimmers soon finished their job, and Annie thanked them gratefully, tacking a nice tip onto the price of the trimming. She’d feel much safer knowing she didn’t have a ladder growing right next to her upstairs window.
Night falls fast on the New England coast, and Annie walked through the house, carefully checking all the locks on the windows and doors. She hated feeling nervous in her own home. She tried to get caught up in a novel and then television, but she finally had to admit to herself that she couldn’t concentrate so she settled on the front-room sofa with her crocheting.
The movement of the hook and feel of the soft, warm yarn through her fingers was soothing. When Annie was a little girl, Gram had noticed her tendency to be restless. “It always helps to have something to do with your hands,” Gram had said. “If you keep your hands busy, you can pour that nervous energy right out through your fingers.”
As usual, Gram had been right. Though Annie couldn’t lose herself in cross-stitch the way Betsy Holden did, she had found her crafting niche in the warmth of crochet. Hooking the yarn, coaxing it through the loops of the pattern is a lot like solving a mystery, Annie thought. You have to hit the right loops to make the pattern work out. If you don’t it’ll just be a scrambled mess of yarn.
“So where are the right loops in this mystery?” she said aloud.
Boots glanced at her from the other corner of the sofa, but didn’t offer any kitty insights.
Annie jumped, knocking a ball of yarn to the floor when the doorbell rang. She quickly chased the rolling ball, but Boots got to it first, and Annie had to pry the kitty claws out of it and stuff the whole project back in her bag.
The doorbell rang again as Annie finally walked to the entry. She flipped on the porch light and saw Alice standing on the porch. Relieved to see her friend, she pulled open the door.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” Alice said as Annie stepped back to let her in. “I saw your car in my drive and wondered if you’d had another break-in.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I had parked over there. Ian sent some men to trim that oak tree, and their machinery took up my whole drive.”
“Wow, that’s fast. Our mayor really knows how to get things done …,�
�� Alice said, adding with a mischievous gleam, “… when he has the right motivation.”
Annie shook her head at her friend. “He was just worried, and I have to admit that I feel better now.”
“Well enough to hear about my sleuthing mission?” Alice asked.
“Of course,” Annie said. “Let me put on the kettle.”
They were soon settled in the kitchen, and Alice told Annie about her afternoon. Alice had spent the afternoon hanging out around Maplehurst Inn, waiting for Peggy to call her as soon as John MacFarlane showed up at The Cup & Saucer for supper.
“How did you know he wouldn’t just eat at the inn?” Annie asked.
“The diner is cheaper,” Alice said. “With no one to impress, John usually has to go with cheaper.”
Annie nodded, and Alice went on to tell her she’d gotten the call and headed up to John’s room.
“How on earth did you get in his room?” Annie asked.
“Well, let’s just say that someone on the cleaning staff is a Divine Décor customer,” Alice said. “And maybe another has an ex who gives her trouble too.”
“Oh, that’s devious,” Annie said, “and I don’t think Chief Edwards would approve.”
“Do you want to hear this report?”
“OK, OK.” Annie raised her hands in surrender.
“So I searched his room, and I didn’t find the hair comb,” Alice said. “I couldn’t see how he could hock it that fast. The room has a safe, but he hadn’t even locked it, and all it had in it was a pair of slippers.”
“Slippers?”
Alice shrugged. “Anyway, I had my arm under the mattress, rooting around when John came back.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” Alice said. “Apparently I accidentally shut off my cell phone after I’d gotten the call from Peggy, and I missed her panicked call letting me know he was coming back.”
“What happened?”
“It was a little sticky at first, but I just went on the offensive. I told him I wasn’t buying any kind of love and romance reason for him to be in Stony Point, and I wanted him to come clean. He admitted he was actually back here to see what kind of financial shape I was in. The rat tried to hit me up for money!”
“He certainly has nerve,” Annie said.
“He always had plenty of that. Anyway, he swore he didn’t have anything to do with your hair comb. He said if he was going to try being a jewel thief there were a lot more appealing targets. He had a point. Some of those women were dripping with real jewels.”
“So you believe him?”
“I think I do,” Alice said. “I mean, John is a rat. And I would definitely count my silver and check my jewelry box if I let him come visit me, but grabbing a comb out of your hair really doesn’t seem like him. He’d rob you, but he’d be smooth about it.”
Then she smiled slightly. “I also checked his face, neck, and hands: no scratch marks. He definitely wasn’t the housebreaker that Boots tangled with.”
“So that doesn’t really get us any closer to solving the case,” Annie said.
“Sorry. I guess it doesn’t.”
“What are you going to do about John?”
“After the things I said in his room, I’m not sure I’m going to have to do anything. I’d be surprised if he hung around. He told me he’d noticed he wasn’t very popular in town, so that should keep him from begging money from anyone else.”
“I guess eliminating someone is progress,” Annie said. “Even if I don’t really feel any closer to an answer.”
12
Annie headed to bed soon after Alice left. When Annie moved to Stony Point, she initially had slept in her old room from summers with her grandparents. But after a while, she was naturally drawn to Gram’s bedroom. Not only did it have a spectacular view of the ocean, but something about staying in that room made her feel a little less alone. And she was sure it wasn’t just the way Boots slept all over her. She simply felt wrapped in good memories when she curled up in Gram’s bed.
The next day, Annie headed outside for some leaf raking as soon as the dew dried. She hoped it would work like crocheting and soothe her jumpy nerves. She was pleased to see that the men who’d cut limbs from the oak had swept up most of the leaves when they cleaned the debris from the tree trimming.
“One leaf pile down,” Annie said. “A dozen to go.” She turned to rake leaves away from the house and saw footprints in the soft soil near the house. She figured it was just the shoe prints of the tree trimmers and raked the ground a bit to smooth them over. As she continued around the house, pulling leaves away from the foundation, she found more and more prints. Why would the tree trimmers have circled the house? There was only one oak in the yard, so they couldn’t have been confused about which tree to cut.
She looked carefully at each print she found. She was no expert, but they looked alike to her. Were they prints left from the break-in? Or had someone come last night to prowl around the house?
“It couldn’t have been last night,” she told herself reasonably. “They wouldn’t have been covered with leaves.” But she didn’t quite buy that argument. With the blustery fall winds, the leaves shifted places constantly and collected quickly close to the house. A chill crept up Annie’s spine, and she struggled to shrug it off. She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and used it to take photos of all the tracks she could find. She even went back in the house and found a ruler so she could take a photo of one print with the ruler beside it to show its length.
Annie held her own foot next to the print. Her own shoe was considerably smaller. That might mean the person was a man. Of course, she’d noticed the teenaged girls in the craft club also had bigger feet than her. If each generation kept getting bigger feet, eventually they’d all wear clown shoes. So, bigger feet didn’t automatically mean a man.
She squatted down and looked closely at the muddy imprint. It was the perfect shape of a foot with a distinct heel but no real tread pattern at all. It was almost as if the bottom of the shoe was smooth. Men’s dress shoes?
Finally, she accepted she was no expert. She walked to the carriage house, picked up her car from Alice’s drive and headed into town. She’d show Chief Edwards the photos and let him decide if he wanted to send anyone out. Annie soon pulled up in front of Town Hall and went in search of the chief. He looked over her cell phone photos seriously.
“That was real good thinking with the ruler,” he said.
Annie thanked him, but she wasn’t sure if the chief might be patronizing her a bit. He didn’t jump up and offer to send anyone out to take casts of the prints, though he did have her e-mail the photos from her phone to his computer. Annie was more than a little embarrassed when he had to show her how to do it.
“I’m afraid I mostly use my phone as a phone,” she said.
The chief chuckled. “Pretty soon they’ll invent a cell phone that does everything but live your life for you,” he said.
Annie was feeling a little let down as she left Town Hall. She wasn’t certain what she’d been expecting. She just felt stalled on the mystery and a little frustrated.
“Annie! Annie!”
Annie looked up at the shout and spotted Gwen Palmer in front of the Stony Point Savings Bank on the other side of the Town Square. Annie waved back, but Gwen hurried across the street and started walking across the Town Square grass.
It must be important, Annie thought as she saw Gwen struggle with her high heels in the soft ground. “You wait there,” Annie called. “I’ll come to you.” Annie’s soft-soled, slip-on oxfords were much better suited for the grassy square.
She soon crossed the distance and met Gwen on the sidewalk where the older woman had retreated to wipe mud from her shoes.
“Oh Annie, I wanted to tell you what I learned,” Gwen said. “I was in the bank this morning, and I saw that biologist opening a bank account. The man.”
Annie smiled. “I’m not sure that’s totally mysterious.”
; “Why open an account if you’re only going to be here for a couple weeks?” Gwen said, raising her eyebrows. “And I noticed something else. That young man had a bandage on his hand. Maybe he’s covering up cat scratches.”
Annie had to admit that was interesting, but hardly conclusive. “They’ve been out on fishing boats,” she said reasonably. “I imagine it’s fairly easy to get small injuries in their work.”
“I know,” Gwen said. “That’s why Stella is going to suffer for the cause and chat up Jenna Paige. Apparently that girl thinks Stella wants to be her new best friend. Stella has been practically hiding at home to avoid her. But she promised to be at A Stitch in Time this afternoon. That’s when Mary Beth told us Jenna is coming in to get some help with her cross-stitch.”
“Stella doesn’t do cross-stitch,” Annie said.
“No, but you know if she’s there, she’ll be able to chat with the girl.”
That did seem likely. “You know Jenna Paige may be a perfectly nice girl,” Annie said. “She’s just a bit eager.”
Gwen sniffed, and for a moment Annie was struck with how much she sounded like Stella. “I’m not saying she’s definitely the perp,” Gwen said, using the term she had heard from a TV crime show. “We’re not going to accuse her of anything. Stella’s just going to grill her.”
Annie had to struggle not to laugh at the thought of the austere Stella grilling anyone, but she said she was looking forward to hearing the results of that.
“That’s good,” Gwen said, “because we’re going to call an emergency meeting of the Hook and Needle Club tomorrow so everyone can compare notes. I want to hear how the others are doing on the case too.”
“OK,” Annie said, again struggling not to smile at how much Gwen had embraced detective vocabulary. “I’ll be there.”
Annie drove home, deep in thought. She was greeted by Boots, begging for food as usual. The demanding meows were so familiar that Annie found the sound comforting. She scooped Boots up and carried her to the kitchen. “I’m glad I can always count on you,” she said as Boots rubbed her head against Annie’s chin, “or count on your stomach anyway.”