A Whisker of Trouble

by Sofie Ryan

  “I will. Thank you,” I said.

  He leaned over and kissed Liz on the cheek. “If you decide to invest in the development, call me before you sign anything,” he said.

  “Thank you for joining us,” she said.

  He smiled and headed for the exit.

  Liz looked around for our waiter. When she caught his eye she nodded. He nodded in return. The two of them seemed to have some kind of code.

  “I do a fair amount of Emmerson Foundation business here,” Liz said by way of explanation when she caught me watching her. Once she’d paid for our meal, we walked out to the car. Liz fastened her seat belt and turned to look at me with a self-satisfied smile. “We make a good team,” she said.

  I fastened my own seat belt and stuck the key in the ignition. “You could have been a little more diplomatic,” I said.

  “What did you find out?” she asked.

  “Why do you think I found out anything?”

  She held up a finger. “Number one, I saw your heads together, so I know he told you something.” She held up a second finger. “Number two, I did a damn fine job of setting up your rapport.”

  I turned to look at her. “Excuse me?” I said. “What do you mean, you set up our rapport?”

  She smoothed a hand over her blond hair. “I was rude. You were appalled. You and Channing bonded. He confided in you. Stop stalling and tell me what he said.”

  I pointed my index finger at her, stabbing the air with it. “You did that on purpose.”

  She looked surprised. “Of course I did,” she said. “You mean you’re just figuring that out?”

  “You could have told me what you were going to do,” I muttered as I pulled out of the parking lot.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Liz said. “But I think it worked out better this way. So, what did he tell you?”

  I repeated Channing Caulfield’s story about the money management seminar.

  “He could be onto something,” Liz said.

  “I had the same thought,” I said. I stopped at the corner and used the opportunity to look in her direction.

  She gave me a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. “We’re a good team,” she said.

  I shifted my gaze back to the road. “Do not try to tell me that we’re Xena and Gabrielle again,” I said sternly.

  Liz laughed. “Fine, but I think you like the detective business.”

  “No, I don’t,” I said, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

  Liz laughed again and it occurred to me that no matter how hard I tried to stay out of the detecting business, it somehow kept pulling me back in.

  Chapter 12

  Mac drove in behind me as we pulled in to the parking lot back at the shop. Rose got out of the passenger side of the SUV carrying Elvis.

  “That cat is perfectly capable of walking,” I said.

  Rose stroked his black fur. “He’s such a good boy. I don’t mind carrying him,” she said. “A couple of squirrels had set up house in the back porch. Elvis convinced them to move elsewhere.”

  The cat looked at me and licked his whiskers.

  “Tell me he didn’t eat them,” I said.

  Mac shook his head. “He didn’t, but he did give them a pretty good aerobic workout.” He reached over and scratched the top of the cat’s head. “I found the hole where I think they got in and I filled it with steel wool.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “That’s not all,” Rose said. She held out a colored brochure. “He found this on one of the shelves of that bookcase in the living room and brought it right to me.”

  I took the folded sheet of paper from her. “It’s for Feast in the Field,” I said, turning the paper over in my hand.

  Mac frowned. “Do you mean that wine and spirits tasting event last fall?”

  “It could be a clue,” Rose said.

  I looked at Elvis. If it were possible for a cat to smile smugly, that was what he was doing. “I don’t think so,” I said. “This isn’t from last fall’s Feast in the Field. It’s from the year before.”

  “It could still be important,” Rose insisted.

  “See what Mr. P. thinks,” I said. I didn’t like to point out that the brochure smelled like fish, which was probably why the cat had been drawn to it. I turned to Mac. “So the kitchen is finished?”

  He nodded. “And we can bring the bookcase back on Monday. We came back a bit early today because I heard from Liam.”

  “You’re going to finish the drywall?” I said, looking over toward the old garage.

  Mac nodded. “That’s the plan. He has some time. I wanted to take advantage of it. He should be here in a couple of hours.”

  “If you can get the ceiling done, you and I could finish the rest.”

  He pulled a hand over his neck. “Liam offered to help with the crack-filling, too. I told him that’s between the two of you.”

  I laughed. “He thinks he’s better at it than I am. He says it’s like frosting a cake, which he also claims he’s better at.”

  Mac smiled. “Sarah, no offense but do you know how to make a cake?”

  “We’re way off the subject,” I said just a little defensively.

  His smile got wider. “Then let’s change it altogether. How was lunch?”

  We started across the parking lot toward the back door. “Useful,” I said. “Channing Caulfield definitely didn’t kill Ronan Quinn.”

  Rose was in front of us. She looked back over her shoulder at me. “Why do you say that, dear?” she asked.

  “Well, first of all because he told us he didn’t when Liz asked him.”

  Rose immediately turned to look at Liz. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, what did you do?” she said.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Liz retorted. “It was all part of my plan.”

  “Your plan to what?” Rose asked. “Let a killer get away?”

  Liz rolled her eyes. “You’re overreacting, Rose,” she said. “I was trying to help Sarah make a connection with Channing and I did an excellent job of that if I say so myself.” She turned to look at me. “And it seems like I’m the only one who is saying it.”

  “Interesting,” Mac said, almost under his breath. I shot him a warning look and turned my attention to Rose.

  “First of all, Liz is right. Like I just said, he didn’t kill Ronan Quinn.”

  “Sarah dear, just because he says he didn’t doesn’t mean he didn’t.” There was just a hint of condescension in Rose’s voice, as if she were talking to a five-year-old.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mac’s lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

  “I know,” I said. I turned my attention to Liz. “Did you notice how he went out of his way to avoid shaking hands with either one of us?”

  Liz frowned. “You’re right,” she said slowly.

  I held up one hand. “His finger joints were very swollen,” I said, tapping on the second knuckle of my index finger. “I’m pretty sure he has arthritis in his hands. There’s no way Channing Caulfield would be able to grip and lift the heavy wine bottle that was used to kill Quinn, let alone swing it.”

  “So we’re back at square one,” Rose said with a sigh. Mac held the door open and I let her go ahead of me.

  “Not entirely,” I said.

  She set Elvis down on the floor. He shook himself and headed for the store. Rose looked at me, her head cocked to one side.

  “Liz was right,” I said.

  “Well, of course I was,” Liz said.

  I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “Don’t push it,” I said. “She did manage to create a bit of a rapport between Channing Caulfield and me. When she was away from the table, he told me that he thought he knew how Edison first got the idea to start collecting rare vintages of wine.” I told her what Caulfield had told
me about the money management seminar.

  “I remember when they had those seminars at Shady Pines,” Rose said. “I knew they were just a bunch of hooey.”

  “You know people at Legacy Place,” I said, stressing the proper name of the seniors’ complex where Rose had lived until she’d been evicted, basically for her attitude. “See what you can find out.”

  Rose beamed at me. “That’s an excellent idea,” she said. She reached over and squeezed my cheeks between her two hands. “I’m so glad you went to lunch with Channing.” She headed for the shop.

  Liz looked from Mac to me. “I was there, too,” she said.

  Rose was already halfway across the room.

  I leaned over and kissed Liz’s cheek. “Superheroes are never appreciated by the masses, Xena,” I said.

  She laughed. “You’re an irritating child sometimes, but I love you,” she said.

  I grinned at her. “Everybody does,” I said.

  Chapter 13

  I went upstairs and changed out of my dress and heels, dropping down onto the love seat to rub my aching feet before I put my Keds back on. I had no idea how Liz managed to walk around all day in spike heels.

  When I went back downstairs, Avery was at the cash desk with one customer and Rose was showing a bed frame to two others. Mac walked over to me.

  “Things look pretty much under control in here,” I said to Mac.

  He nodded. “Avery did a good job under the stairs—no more marauding dust bunnies.”

  I nodded solemnly. “Those critters can be very sneaky.”

  “She updated the list and put a copy on the door and another copy over by the cash.”

  I glanced across the room where it looked as though Avery was showing her customer the various bracelets that snaked their way up her left arm. “She’s the only teenager I’ve ever met who actually likes doing that kind of thing.”

  Mac passed a hand back over his close-cropped black hair. “What do you think about getting her to do an up-to-date inventory when we finally get the old garage into a workable space?”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” I said.

  “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going out to get the old chandelier from Doran’s and put it in the workroom.”

  “Need any help?” I asked.

  “You could come hold the door for me,” Mac said.

  I smiled. “Sure.”

  We started for the workroom. “Where’s Charlotte?” I asked.

  “Talking to someone who was at that financial planning seminar. Someone she used to teach with, I think.”

  “Do you think Caulfield is right?” I asked. “You think it’s possible that was where the whole wine thing began for Edison?”

  “It’s possible,” he said. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before.” He held up a hand. “Not wine collecting, but other sorts of scams—rare coins, vacation properties in Florida. All the con needs is for one person to take the bait.”

  “Why does someone ‘take the bait’?”

  He shrugged. “My experience is pretty limited in this kind of thing, but I can tell you it’s usually not greed that motivates. I think, as crazy as it sounds, it’s the same kind of thing as making a wish when you blow out the candles on a birthday cake. It’s hoping for something more.”

  “Do you think maybe Edison wanted to leave something more for Ethan?”

  “I think it’s possible.”

  “Which made him the perfect target for anyone looking to run a con.”

  Mac nodded. “Pretty much. And it may not have happened at that financial seminar. The reality is, Edison Hall could have been scammed in a dozen or more ways.” He held the back door and I stepped out into the parking lot. Clouds were rolling in from the water.

  “Including Feast in the Field?” I asked. “Rose thinks it’s possible.”

  “You did notice that brochure about Feast in the Field smelled like tuna, didn’t you?” he said.

  “I did,” I said. “I don’t think it’s important, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder about that money management seminar. According to Mr. Caulfield, Edison would have received an invitation. Maybe Charlotte will come up with something.”

  Mac pulled his keys out of his pocket. “So you don’t think Elvis looked at that brochure and thought, Hey, a clue? He is a pretty smart cat.”

  I shook my head. “I feel pretty confident that the only thing he was thinking about was lunch.”

  We had a wheeled dolly that we used to move anything large or awkward from the old garage to the workroom in the shop. I helped Mac get the brass and glass light fixture settled on it. As he maneuvered the dolly into the workroom, Charlotte came out of the Angels’ office, a look of satisfaction on her face.

  “Sarah, is it all right with you if Rose works the rest of my shift?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “I talked to three different people who were at that first financial seminar. They all remember a woman who said she lived in Rockport, talking about the unpredictability of the stock market and how much better tangible things were as an investment.”

  “Interesting,” I said.

  She nodded. “Maribelle Hearndon just called me back. She knows someone who knows someone—you know how those things work—and I have a name and an address for the woman. Liz and I are going to see her.”

  “Good luck,” I said.

  Mr. P. arrived about twenty minutes after Liz and Charlotte had left.

  “Did you walk up the hill?” I asked. “I could have come and picked you up.”

  “Oh, thank you, Sarah,” he said, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head. “I’ve walked that hill many times. It doesn’t bother me, but I actually got a ride from your brother.” He inclined his head in the direction of the old garage. “He’s outside talking to Mac.”

  I took a couple of steps backward and looked out into the parking lot. Liam was standing beside his half-ton truck deep in conversation with Mac.

  “Rose is in the shop,” I said to Mr. P. “And I think there’s tea upstairs.”

  He reached over and patted my arm. “Thank you, dear,” he said.

  They all did that, I realized—patted my arm, smiled sweetly at me and called me “dear.” For all that I worried about them and tried to keep them from getting in too much trouble, I had the feeling, sometimes, that they were just humoring me.

  Liam was dressed to work in jeans and a blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled back. “Hi,” he said as I joined them. “I was just telling Mac I’m free for the rest of the day, so we can probably get this whole thing finished if that’s what you want.”

  “That works for me, Sarah,” Mac said.

  “I’d love to get it finished,” I said. I smiled at Liam. “Thank you, big brother.” Emphasis on “big.”

  He grinned. “Oh yeah, when you’re looking to get something from me, then you acknowledge that I’m older and wiser.”

  I bumped him with my hip. “I said you were older; I didn’t say you were smarter.”

  “I’m smart enough not to let you cook me dinner to pay me back,” he retorted.

  “Are you coming to Thursday night jam?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll buy you dinner beforehand.”

  “And all the nachos I can eat while Sam and the boys are playing.”

  “Deal.”

  “I can eat a lot of nachos,” he warned.

  “You also do a lot of flirting, which cuts into your eating,” I said with a grin. “I think I can afford it.”

  Liam and Mac went to work in the old garage and I went back to the shop. Mr. P. was in the sunporch busy with his computer. Avery and Rose were both with customers and as I stepped into the store Ave
ry beckoned me over.

  It turned out to be a busy afternoon. A small caravan of RV campers was working its way up the coast and they’d stopped in North Harbor for a couple of days. One of the RV owners bought two guitars and when I asked him about his camper—which looked like an oversize van to me—he offered to let me have a look inside. It had a tiny galley kitchen, a separate bathroom and a sofa at the back that turned into a queen-size bed.

  “There’s a lot more room inside than I expected,” I said to the owner, who said his name was Joe. I was guessing he was in his mid to late fifties.

  “Everyone says that,” he said. “It’s not bad on gas and it’s pretty easy to park.” He gestured at the store behind us. “You could travel all over the state with this and bring things back for your store. Or park it in the middle of the woods somewhere and spend the whole day playing guitar.”

  “I like that second part,” I said with a laugh.

  Joe told me that the group would be heading south again in a couple of months and he’d stop in then to see what musical instruments I had in stock.

  I walked back inside to find Rose giving the driver of one of the other RV’s directions to the Black Bear and Avery selling three of the bracelets she was wearing to a woman about my age. Elvis was holding court on the tub chair being fussed over by three more customers. Mr. P. came down the stairs carrying two mugs.

  “I just made a fresh pot for Mac and your brother,” he said. “Would you like me to get you a cup when I come back?”

  I hesitated and then the phone rang.

  “Go answer that,” Mr. P. said. “I’ll bring you coffee in just a minute.” He made his way across the room, smiling at both Rose and Avery as he passed them.

  As I went to get the phone, I realized that as much as it might be fun to run off in an RV, I’d miss them all too much to ever do it. Then I got a mental image of taking them all with me, Mr. P. with his pants hiked up to his armpits driving one of the oversize vans, Liz with her heels and perfect manicure behind the wheel of another and me with Elvis riding shotgun leading the way. The thought made me laugh as I picked up the phone.