by J A Whiting
“The creepy couple who come into my shop almost every morning, the Crossworts,” Angie said.
“Great. Creepy Crosswort Couple.” Courtney wrote them down. “Every suspect has to have alliteration in their name or they don’t get on the list,” she joked.
Courtney could be counted on to lighten the mood and Angie loved that about her.
Angie said, “Here’s another suspect. The person in the long coat who was watching the common last night.”
Courtney cocked her head with the pen poised in the air. “Alliteration, please.”
Angie stared at her youngest sister. “I’ll work on that. Just write it down for now.”
“I’ll write Mysteriously-clothed Monitor for now.” Courtney grinned. “Mr. Finch? Any suspects to add?”
Finch looked at each girl, his face slightly pale. “I was just thinking. I wonder.” He swallowed. “Could the coming danger have something to do with your Nana?”
The girls stared at Finch with wide eyes and Angie’s heart sank.
10
“Nana? What do you mean?” Jenna’s eyes widened. “How could the trouble have anything to do with Nana? She’s been gone for years.”
“I don’t specifically mean that your Nana is involved.” Mr. Finch looked over the tops of his glasses. “But I wonder if someone who knew your Nana has heard that her descendants are in Sweet Cove and doesn’t like it.” He held each sister’s eyes. “Halloween is an excellent time to come to town. There are lots of people here, the costumes, the parties, the town festival. All good ways to blend in and do mischief.”
“But if someone was out to harm us because of Nana, you wouldn’t be a target.” Courtney leaned forward.
“That’s right.” Angie looked at Mr. Finch. “You wouldn’t be in danger if it had to do with Nana since you aren’t a relative, but when you had the sensation of doom you felt it surrounded you as well, so it mustn’t have anything to do with her.”
Mr. Finch was quiet for a minute and when he finally spoke, his voice was soft. “You are my family now. Harm will come to you over my dead body. If anyone means to hurt you, then I am in danger, too.”
A smile crept over Courtney’s lips. “I know nothing will ever happen to us while you’re around, Mr. Finch.”
Jenna turned to Finch. “And nothing will happen to you while we’re around.”
Angie’s stomach was in a knot. “Why would someone not like that we’re living in Sweet Cove now? Do you think Nana had an enemy?”
“From what you’ve told me, your Nana helped the police much the same way that we do.” Finch’s bushy eyebrows knitted together. “Your Nana’s skills were probably well-developed and powerful. She most likely helped solve many cases which might mean she acquired some enemies.” Mr. Finch stood up and went to the counter to check the fudge. He removed a pan from the cooler and started to cut it. “Perhaps someone from her past wants revenge or doesn’t want her granddaughters picking up where she left off.”
Something about what Finch was saying picked at Angie, but she couldn’t understand what she was feeling. Jenna noticed the expression on her twin sister’s face. “You think there’s something to what Mr. Finch is saying?”
Angie blinked. She thought for a few moments. “Maybe?” She shifted her eyes to the older man. “A sense of foreboding washed over me when you mentioned an enemy. I don’t know why or what it could mean.”
“We need to do something, not just sit around waiting for a nut to attack us.” Courtney tapped the pen against her chin. “Let’s look up Mr. Withers on the internet tonight, see what we can find out about him.”
Angie said, “I’ll talk to Chief Martin about Nana and see if he has any insight.”
“We should head home. It’s getting dark.” Jenna picked up her latte cup and carried it to the sink. “I’ve left Ellie in charge of the jewelry shop too long already. We can do some internet sleuthing after dinner.”
Courtney looked at Angie. “Have you ever spoken to the creepy couple who comes into the bake shop?”
Angie’s eyes widened. “No. They seem to hate me so I haven’t spoken to them. I’ve tried smiling at them, but they look away and scowl. I really don’t want anything to do with them.”
“Well, you’re about to get to know them.” Courtney gave her sister a wicked grin. “I think one of your sleuthing assignments should be to talk to that couple when they come into the bake shop tomorrow morning.”
Angie groaned and was about to protest.
“Honestly, I think that’s a good idea.” Jenna nodded. “Talk to them, throw them off guard. Chat with them, be friendly. Try to find out what they’re up to.”
Angie slowly shook her head. “I’ll talk to them on one condition.”
All eyes turned to her.
“You give me a giant square of that fudge to try.” She smiled and the others chuckled.
Mr. Finch carried a piece of the new flavored fudge to the honey-blonde baker and she accepted it eagerly.
“Give us your honest opinion, Sis.” Courtney waited for the verdict as her sister bit into the golden colored square.
Angie moaned and closed her eyes. “How did you do it? I taste apples, cinnamon, and pie pastry, too.” Her eyes popped open. “How did you combine all those flavors together into the one pan of fudge?”
Courtney grinned, turned, and high-fived Mr. Finch.
“Tell me.” Angie licked her finger.
“Nope.” Courtney picked up the knife and started to cut the squares.
“But I’m your sister,” Angie said. “You can tell me.”
Courtney winked at Mr. Finch and looked over her shoulder at Angie. “We can’t tell. It’s a secret.”
Just as Angie was about to try and persuade her sister or Mr. Finch to share their fudge secret, an employee came to the doorway. “Courtney?”
Courtney wiped her fingers on her apron realizing that she’d been away from the front of the shop for quite a while leaving the two employees to handle the customers on their own. “Sorry, Maddie, I’m coming out to help.”
Maddie shook her head. “It’s not that. Someone just came in and said there’s a big fire in town. A house is burning down. It’s pretty bad, I guess.”
Courtney’s jaw dropped and her sisters and Mr. Finch froze in place.
“Where?” Jenna’s voice was shaky. “Did they say where it was?”
“Greenhill Road.” Maddie went back to the front of the store.
“The Crosswort couple just signed a rental agreement on a house on Greenhill Road,” Angie reminded them.
Jenna moved to Angie’s side. “Another fire? What’s going on?”
“That’s a very good question.” Angie eyed her sisters and Mr. Finch. “Let’s go find out.”
* * *
ELLIE PICKED up her sisters and Mr. Finch from in front of the store after receiving their call and she drove the van along the streets of town heading for Greenhill Road. Her passengers brought her up to speed about the interview at the police station and about their thoughts and worries about the fire on the common.
“Was Weird Withers at the B and B this evening or has he been out?” Courtney immediately thought of him as a suspect in the house fire.
“I’m not sure.” Ellie turned the steering wheel to head the van onto Greenhill Road. “I saw him after you left the house. He followed me around for a while yammering away at me. He said he had plans to visit the art museum today. I haven’t seen him since early afternoon.”
Courtney made an “aha” noise.
Jenna said, “Don’t focus solely on Withers. If we only concentrate on him, we might overlook an important piece of evidence that points to someone else. Just because Withers went out today doesn’t mean he’s the fire bug.”
“There are police ahead blocking the way.” Ellie parked the van at the side of the road. “We’ll have to walk from here.”
Two police officers stood in front of orange cones that had been placed in a line across the road.
A police car was parked diagonally on the street, its blue lights flashing. When the Roselands and Finch emerged from the van, one of the officers approached to tell them they couldn’t park there. It was Officer Talbot and when he recognized the group, he waved them forward and told them he would radio Chief Martin to let him know they were on their way down to the scene.
The acrid smell of smoke stung their nostrils as they rounded a bend in the street and got closer to the burning house.
“Oh, how awful.” Ellie gasped and placed the palm of her hand against her cheek when she spotted the uproar ahead of them.
Flames could be seen shooting out of two downstairs windows. Three fire trucks were parked in the road and some firefighters held hoses and others hurried back and forth across the front lawn. Police walkie talkies and car radios crackled and squawked in the air. People stood across the street watching the goings-on and the sisters and Mr. Finch walked over to join the crowd. They recognized acquaintances and questioned them about what had happened.
A regular customer at the bake shop gave an account. “It took a long time to get the fire under control. The flames were coming out of the roof and the upstairs windows. It seems to be quieting down now.”
“Was anyone inside?” Finch questioned.
“No one knows if anyone’s in there,” another bystander offered. “We haven’t seen them take anyone out yet.”
“Do you know who owns the house?” Jenna asked.
A young guy spoke up. “Some people named Johnson. They rent the place out by the week in the summer and then by the month for the rest of the year. The house has been empty for about two weeks since the last rental left. If the place doesn’t get rented in the off-season then it usually gets winterized around this time. I live a few houses up the street.” The guy pointed.
Angie leaned towards Mr. Finch. “I’m going to text Betty and ask the address of the house that the Crosswort couple recently rented from her.” She pulled out her phone and sent the message. “I hope she answers before we leave.”
The five of them stood quietly in the darkness taking in the scene, looking around at the people gathered on both sides of the street and at the neighboring houses. The flames had died down now and the sense of urgency was slowly dissipating.
“I don’t think we should approach Chief Martin,” Jenna said. “He looks much too busy.”
Angie agreed. “We can talk to him tomorrow to find out if there’s any link between the house fire and the fire on the common last night.”
With a worried look on her face, Ellie shuffled from foot to foot in the chilly air. “Do you think someone set it?” She stared at the ruined house.
“It’s possible.” Mr. Finch leaned on his cane. “It could also have been something other than arson, an electrical issue, a gas leak.”
Ellie fiddled with the ends of her long blonde hair. “I hope it was just some functional thing gone wrong.”
Courtney grunted. “Kind of a coincidence that we have two fires in two days in our sweet little town.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m leaning towards arson.”
Ellie’s voice quavered when she asked, “Can we go home now?”
They all agreed that there probably wasn’t much else to see and as they turned to leave, they bumped into Francine from the stained glass shop. Francine had been helpful in providing some important information in the last case the Roselands had been involved with.
“Some unexpected trouble in town, huh?” Francine frowned as she watched the officials working in front of the burnt-out home. “I hope they get to the bottom of all this.”
“You think it was set?” Jenna asked.
Francine gave a shrug. “I hope not, but I’m keeping every outside light burning around my house and shop just in case there’s an arsonist on the loose. Maybe the nut will bypass my place if it’s all lit up. It might make it harder for someone to sneak around. Did I tell you I’m moving my stained glass shop into the center of Sweet Cove?” She looked at Courtney and Mr. Finch. “I need a bigger space and I’ve leased the storefront four doors down from your candy store. Drop by sometime. I’m in there almost every day getting it ready.”
While they were discussing the scarecrow fire on the town common, Angie’s phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Betty gave her the address of the Crossworts’ recent rental. Angie glanced at the number engraved in the granite post supporting the mailbox for the house they were standing in front of and realized it was one number off from the Crossworts’ house. Looking across the street, she squinted at the mailbox post and her heart skipped a beat. The house the Crossworts had just rented stood right next door to the house that was on fire.
The Crosswort home was shrouded in darkness. Angie shifted her gaze from window to window starting with the second floor and just when she lowered her eyes to scan the first floor she had the sensation of something passing behind the glass of one of the upper windows. As she was turning her attention back to the second floor, something caught her eye on the sidewalk three houses up from the fire.
A figure, wearing a long dark poncho with the hood up, stood on the sidewalk watching the fire fighters. Angie’s throat constricted. She took a step towards the figure just as the person turned and began to hurry away up the road.
“I’ll be right back.” Angie sprinted up the dark street following the hooded form and when she was right behind it, she reached out her hand and touched it on the shoulder.
The figure stopped so suddenly that the cessation of forward movement caused the poncho’s fabric to swirl around its ankles. The person spun on its heel and stood face to face with Angie.
11
In a split second, the hooded person’s expression transformed from annoyance and concern to friendly recognition. “Angie. You scared me.”
Angie blinked. “Gloria. What are you doing here?”
The sixty-something blonde woman smiled. “I live a couple of blocks away. I was walking home from the salon and someone told me there was a fire in my neighborhood. I scooted over here. You startled me.” The woman chuckled. “You’re lucky I didn’t pepper spray you.” Angie had been going to Gloria for hair cutting ever since she’d moved to Sweet Cove. Gloria eyed Angie. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Angie forced a smile. “I thought you were someone else. I thought I recognized your shawl.”
Gloria ran her hand down the front of her garment. “It’s a poncho actually. I’ve never worn one, but when I tried it on at the store, I decided that I had to have it. It’s so comfortable, and keeps me so warm. It’s been cold out at night.” She looked at Angie, her eyes serious. “You don’t think I’m too old to wear something like this, do you?”
Angie was so surprised to see her hair stylist on the street in the long overcoat that she had to give herself a little shake. “No, of course not.”
“You sure?” Gloria glanced down at her ankles. “Does the length make me look even shorter?”
“You look great.” Angie smiled. “You shouldn’t be asking me for fashion advice. I should be asking you.” Gloria always had her hair and makeup done perfectly and she wore stylish and well-tailored outfits. Angie was feeling foolish for rushing up on the woman in the dark. They discussed the house fire and the scarecrow fire on the common.
“Were you at the common last night?” Angie asked, wondering if Gloria was the person that Ellie had seen standing on the dark street corner last evening.
“No.” Gloria shook her head causing the hood of the poncho to slip down onto her shoulders. “I was in West Cove visiting a friend. Did you see the fire?”
Angie told the woman that she and her sisters had gone over to the common after hearing about what was going on, but by the time they got there, the fire was out.
“It’s worrying.” Gloria’s eyes darkened. “I hope they hurry up and catch whoever’s setting these fires before someone gets hurt.”
Angie’s sisters and Mr. Finch came up. They greeted the friendly hair styli
st and chatted about the concerning events going on in town. Gloria said, “I better get going. Bob must be wondering why I’m not home yet.” She gave the others a smile and headed off up the street.
“I thought maybe Gloria was the suspicious person in the dark coat you saw last night,” Angie told Ellie. “But she wasn’t in Sweet Cove. She was in West Cove last evening.”
“Are long coats in fashion suddenly?” Courtney stared after the woman.
“I certainly hope not,” Jenna said.
“For more reasons than one.” Mr. Finch started to lead the sisters up the road.
“What do you mean?” Angie asked the man.
To help steady himself, Mr. Finch slid his arm through Angie’s. “Well, for one, it will make our investigation more difficult if everyone in town starts going around in long coats.”
“And what’s another reason?” Angie questioned.
Finch responded with a twinkle in his eye. “The style of the garment is hideous.”
The comment set off a round of squeals and guffaws from the four sisters as they made their way up the small hill to the van.
* * *
ELLIE HAD prepared a pan of meat lasagna and a lentil and vegetable pie. The mouth-watering smell of the dinner baking in the oven filled the air. Mr. Finch sat at the table with a hot cup of tea and the two cats sat on top of the refrigerator. Angie was mixing dough in a large metal bowl.
“What kind of cookies are you making?” Courtney was washing lettuce in the sink for the salad.
“Nut.” Angie stirred the dough with a wooden spoon. “In honor of the nuts who have recently come to town.”
Courtney laughed as she dried the lettuce on the counter.
Tom and Jenna were sitting at the kitchen island leaning over Jenna’s laptop. “Guess what?” she asked the group. “There isn’t anything on the internet about a Walter Withers except for one thing. It says he was born in the UK and moved to Australia. He was a landscape artist. He died in 1914.”