by Sofie Ryan
I looked at Elvis. He was purring, a contented look on his face. As far as he was concerned, Liam was telling the truth. It was good enough for me.
I sat down on the stool again, pulled the top off the hot chocolate and took a sip. It was delicious, as usual. I’d tried more than once to wheedle the secret of his hot chocolate out of Glenn McNamara, but he’d just laugh and say, “If I told you I’d have to kill you or marry you.”
I wiped a smidge of whipped cream from my upper lip.
Liam looked at me and grinned. “So, am I forgiven?”
“I haven’t decided,” I said.
“How about I take you out for breakfast tomorrow?”
Elvis licked his whiskers at the word “breakfast.”
“You’ve always been my favorite brother,” I said.
“I’m your only brother,” he retorted.
“Then things worked out pretty well for you.” I smiled at him over the top of the take-out cup.
Liam slid down a little on the sofa so he was sitting mostly on his tailbone and yawned.
“So, how was your meeting?”
“Not as long as I expected. I think the people on the ground here are going to be pretty easy to work with.”
I leaned back against the counter. “You said you’re going to be evaluating the properties the developers are interested in buying.”
He nodded.
“But I thought everything in those whole two blocks was going to be torn down.”
Elvis had stretched out beside Liam, his front paws on Liam’s lap. Liam was still absently stroking his black fur. “Oh, that’s still the plan,” he said, scratching the golden stubble on his chin with his other hand.
“My job, for the most part, is to see what can be salvaged and reused,” he continued. “That kind of thing adds character to the new buildings, and there are financial benefits as well.”
“Remember me telling you about the chandelier we bought when Doran’s in Portland closed?” I asked, swirling the contents of my cup so the last bit of whipped cream mixed into the cocoa.
Liam nodded. “You were going to sell it to Jon West for the hotel in the old North by West project.”
“Right.” I leaned forward again. The edge of the counter was digging into my back. “The short version of the story is that after the North by West deal fell apart we were going to sell it to a builder who was working on a restaurant in Bangor and that fell through as well.”
“Don’t tell me you sold it to Jason Cavanaugh?” Liam said. Jason Cavanaugh owned Seaward Properties, the developer behind the new harbor-front development proposal.
I nodded. “Mac did, actually. Assuming the sale goes through.”
Elvis rolled over onto his back and Liam shifted his hand and began scratching his furry black chest. The purring got louder.
“So, how’s it working out with Mac living over the shop?”
I drank the last of the hot chocolate and set the cup behind me on the counter.
“It’s working out really well,” I said.
It was Avery who had originally suggested that we renovate the extra space upstairs that we used for storage, into a tiny apartment for Mac. I was putting the rent he was paying into paying down the mortgage my grandmother held on the building a little faster.
Liam gave me a sly smile. “So, anything going on with you two?” he asked.
I made a face. “No. Anything going on with you and Jess?”
He wasn’t at all perturbed at my question. “No,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Liam, Jess is my best friend,” I began.
He held up a hand. “You don’t have to give me the speech,” he said. “We were just having dinner.” He folded his arm behind his head. “Are you going to give Jess the speech about not breaking my heart?”
I shook my head. “I don’t need to. I have no idea how she does it, but she’s managed to stay friendly with everyone she’s gone out with. And no one has said she’d go out with you, anyway.”
Liam looked around. “So, what are you doing here on a Friday night?”
“I live here,” I said.
“You know what I mean,” he said. “You work too much. I saw Rose and her gentleman friend earlier. She has more of a love life than you do and she’s more than twice your age.”
“I know,” I said. “Mr. P. is crazy about her. When she got kicked out of Legacy Place, he wanted her to move in with him. He even proposed.”
“I take it Rose said no?”
“Uh-huh. That’s how she ended up here, although I have to say that’s worked out pretty well, too.”
“It’s probably kept you from starving to death,” Liam said. He gave Elvis one last belly scratch and got to his feet. He came over to me, leaned against the end of the counter and put an arm around my shoulder. As usual he smelled liked baby powder. “Why don’t you lay a big wet one on ol’ Nick? Or if he doesn’t float your boat, on Mac? This all-work-and-no-play stuff has gotta be dull.”
I poked him with my elbow, but all he did was laugh.
“I can’t do that,” I said. “Not that I want to anyway. What if things didn’t work out? Mac works for me and so does Charlotte. How messy could that get?”
“Yeah, blah, blah, blah,” Liam said. He leaned in and kissed my cheek and then headed for the door.
“My life is not dull,” I called after him. Saying that out loud was probably just tempting fate.
Chapter 10
I thought Liam had forgotten that he’d said he’d buy me breakfast, but he knocked on my door about twenty-five after seven the next morning. We drove over to McNamara’s and after he and Glenn had talked about the Red Sox we spent the rest of the meal talking about the new harbor-front development proposal. I dropped him back at the house and picked up Elvis and the clothes I was going to wear out to lunch before I headed for the shop.
Michelle pulled in behind me in the store’s lot. Elvis jumped down from the seat and instead of heading for the back door walked over to her. I followed.
Michelle leaned forward and held out her hand to Elvis. “Good morning,” she said.
He sniffed her with curiosity and then rubbed his cheek against her fingers. She began to stroke his fur and he seemed to smile at her.
Michelle looked up at me and smiled. “Hi, Sarah,” she said. “I just came by to let you know we released the Hall house. You’ll probably hear from Stella sometime today.”
My phone buzzed then. “Excuse me a second,” I said, pulling it out of my pocket. It was Stella with the news Michelle had just given me. She wanted us to get back to work as soon as we could.
“I think we might be able to get there this morning,” I said.
“Thank you, Sarah,” she said. “If you find anything that . . . might be worth something . . .”
“I’ll call you first thing,” I promised.
Michelle talked to Elvis while I was talking to Stella. When I ended the call she gave the cat one last scratch on the top of his head and straightened up. He meowed softly at her and started across the parking lot toward the back door.
“That was Stella, as you probably guessed,” I said.
She nodded. “You’re going to start again this morning?”
I slid the strap of my carryall up on my shoulder. “I’m going to try. I promised Stella we’d get the place cleaned out as quickly as we could once you were done.”
She gave me a thoughtful look. “Stella told you about Ellie.”
I sighed softly. “About the operation? Yes, she did.”
“Any chance there’re some valuable antiques in that house?”
I gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think so. Mac and I did a walk-through before we said yes to Stella, and nothing we saw looked like it was worth much. We didn’t see everything, though, so maybe we’ll get
lucky.”
“I hope so,” she said. Her expression changed. “If you find any more bottles of wine, will you call me, please?”
“Of course,” I said. I studied her face for a moment. “Michelle, do you think that wine collection had anything to do with Ronan Quinn’s death?”
She shrugged. “Right now everything’s a possibility. And we’re looking into the fraud as a separate case.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “Whoever took advantage of Edison Hall like that is despicable.”
She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her black jacket. “You’d be surprised how many scams there are that target seniors. I don’t mean small potatoes, either. These are sophisticated cons.”
I nodded, remembering what I’d read the night before about faking the bottles of wine and how those fakes had fooled more than one expert.
“I’d like to put together an information session for people,” Michelle said. “Just to go over some of the more popular cons out there. Do you think Rose and Alfred Peterson would be willing to get involved?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. I wasn’t sure exactly what to say next.
Michelle smiled as though she could read my mind. Or maybe it was my face that was giving me away.
“You’re thinking I’m crazy,” she said.
I shifted from one foot to the other. “No,” I said. “Not crazy. Just . . .” I hesitated. “Okay, yes. Crazy. But just a little.”
Michelle smiled. “You know what they’re like, Rose, Nick’s mom, Alfred Peterson. Do you really think they’re going to listen to me telling them about the Big Bad Wolf?”
“No,” I said.
“But they will listen to their friends, people their own age.” She rolled her eyes. “And I’m sure Mr. Peterson has come across a scam or two during his travels down the information superhighway.”
I laughed. “I’m guessing Nick told you that Mr. P. is a licensed private investigator now.”
“I already knew,” Michelle said with a smile. “He did tell me that Stella hired them to look into Mr. Quinn’s death.” She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, glanced at it and put it back again. “Rose called me yesterday and told me about Teresa Reynard seeing Quinn at the house the morning he died. It gives us more of a window around when he was killed.”
“Do you think he was there to meet someone about the wine collection?”
She opened her mouth, but I spoke again before she could. “I know, you can’t answer that.”
“I have to get going, Sarah,” she said. “Be careful and if you find anything at the house call me or even Nick.”
“I will,” I said. I hugged her and headed for the back door. Elvis was waiting, not very patiently. He made a huffy noise as I unlocked the door, stalking through the workroom, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth.
Mac’s feet were sticking out of the storage space under the stairs. Elvis meowed at him and then poked his head in the opening next to him.
“Sarah, are you there?” Mac’s muffled voice asked.
“I’m here,” I said. “What are you looking for?”
“That little box of glass doorknobs.”
“Top shelf on the right at the back out in the garage.”
Elvis pulled his head back and shook himself. A couple of dust bunnies floated to the floor. He batted at one with his paw before stopping to wash one side of his face.
Mac backed out of the slanted storage space and stood up, brushing dust off the front of his long-sleeved blue T-shirt. Another dust bunny, cousin probably to the ones that had been clinging to Elvis’s fur, was on his shoulder. I leaned over and brushed it away. “I think I should get Avery to run the vacuum in there,” I said.
“Good idea,” Mac said. “I think the dust bunnies may be amassing an army so they can try to take over the building.”
“Michelle was here and the police have released the Hall house. Do you think we could get out there today?”
He smoothed a hand over his hair. “I don’t see why not. But don’t you and Liz have that lunch thing with the former bank manager?”
I held up the garment bag that I was carrying. “We do, but not until one o’clock.”
Mac pushed a box back into the storage area with one foot. “Do you want me to call Rose and see if she can come with us?”
“Please,” I said. “Charlotte and Avery should be able to handle things here for the morning. I’m just going to put this stuff in my office.” I started up the stairs.
I thought about Liam’s suggestion to make a move on Mac as I hung up the garment bag. It was a really bad idea. He was more than my employee, he was my right hand and my friend. I wasn’t willing to do anything to mess that up.
“It would make more sense to get involved with Nick,” I said.
Elvis stopped washing his chest and looked at me, green eyes narrowed almost as though he’d understood my words and wanted to know if I was kidding or serious.
“I don’t mean I would,” I said. “If Nick and I were going out, both Charlotte and Gram would be picking out baby names.” The image of Nick holding a baby popped into my mind.
The mental picture was so funny I laughed out loud. I’d actually seen it happen a few weeks previous when Nick and I went to meet Jess at her shop before Thursday night jam. One of the paramedics he’d worked with when he was an EMT was in the shop and somehow, before he knew what was happening, Nick was holding her little girl. The eight-month-old had looked befuddled and Nick had looked terrified, holding her out as if she were a bag of snakes.
My cell phone rang then. It was Jess. Elvis was settled in my desk chair having another bath. The cat had a bit of a fetish about being clean, even for a cat. I dropped onto the love seat.
“Hi,” Jess said. “Are you going to be at the shop all morning? I have a new bootie design I want to show you.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m going out to the Hall house.”
“Drat!” Jess was the only person I’d ever met who could say that and not sound silly.
“Was that all you wanted?” I asked.
There was silence for a moment and then she said, “So it was weird, me having dinner with Liam last night?”
“No . . . Maybe.” I let out a breath. “It’s just that Liam is my brother. And you and I have always talked about the guys we were dating.”
“We were dating?” Jess said. I could hear an edge of laughter in her voice.
“We,” I repeated. “Although mostly you lately.”
Jess did laugh then. “I’m not dating Liam, but would you be okay if I wanted to?”
I couldn’t say no and I realized that I didn’t really want to. “Yes, I would be okay.”
“Then if it happens you’ll be the first to know.”
“Just maybe with a little less detail than usual,” I said.
Jess laughed again. “I promise.”
We said good-bye, and I grabbed my stainless steel travel mug and laced up my work boots. Then I pulled on my old paint-spattered sweatshirt.
“You’re in charge,” I told Elvis.
“Mrrr,” he said without looking up from the knot he was working out of his tail.
Charlotte had arrived when I got downstairs and Avery was bringing out the vacuum cleaner.
“Hey, Sarah, you want me to make a list of what’s under there?” she asked, pointing at the storage space with the end of the vacuum cleaner.
“Yes,” I said. “There’s a list taped to the wall just inside the door on the left, but it’s really out of date.”
Avery smiled. “Okay. I got this.” She looked at my coffee mug. “I could make you a smoothie some morning, you know, for a change.”
Avery was trying to get Liz to eat healthier. Liz, whose blood pressure, blood sugar and cholesterol were amazingly low for a
woman her age, was quite happy with the way she’d been eating. “If the good Lord had wanted me to eat tofu, he would have made it less disgusting,” she liked to say.
On the other hand, some of Avery’s stir-fries and drink concoctions looked pretty good.
“Okay,” I said.
She looked around uncertainly. “Really?”
I nodded. “Yeah, really.”
A smile stretched across her face. “Cool.”
Mac was at the cash desk. “We can pick Rose up in fifteen minutes if that works for you.”
“It does,” I said. “By the time we get what we need and drive down to get her, it’ll be fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll start loading boxes,” he said.
I walked over to Charlotte. “Good morning, sweetie,” she said. She was wearing a bright blue apron over her skirt and sweater. Nick had her eyes and her smile.
I put my arm around her shoulder. “Avery is going to clean under the stairs and do inventory. Could you freshen up the front window?”
“Of course,” she said. “And Liz asked me to remind you about lunch.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said. “My dress is upstairs.” I raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess—she also told you to tell me to show some leg.”
“Let’s just say among other things, and leave it at that,” Charlotte said, giving me a hug.
I laughed.
“I’d love to tell you she’s wrong about Channing Caulfield,” she began.
“But she’s not,” I finished.
The always pragmatic Charlotte shook her head. “No, she’s not. And he didn’t get where he is because he’s a softie.”
“Liz will eat him for lunch,” I said.
Charlotte smiled again. “My money’s on her.”
I patted the pocket of my jeans. “Phone’s on and I’ll be back in time to change,” I said.
Rose was standing at the bottom of the driveway when I pulled up to the house, carrying one of her big totes as usual. She climbed into the backseat. “Good morning, dear. Good morning, Mac,” she said. She smiled at Elvis, who was sniffing the bag she’d set next to him on the seat. “Good morning, Elvis,” she added.