by Sofie Ryan
I smiled and leaned against his shoulder. “I can, too.”
“You’re still thinking about what Rose said, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “I just don’t see Chloe Hartman sneaking into Christine’s apartment and setting it on fire to scare her. I don’t exactly know the woman, but from what I’ve seen and heard about her, it doesn’t seem like her style.”
“People have more than one side to them,” Mac said.
“What if we never figure out who started that fire?”
Mac turned his head to look at me. “Not going to happen. First of all, I have faith in Michelle and in Nick. They’re both good at what they do and they are not going to give up. But most of all, I have faith in Rose. Do you remember what you once said to me about her?”
I straightened up and hunched my shoulder to work out a kink. “I’ve said a lot of things about Rose.”
“Well this particular time you said she’s a pit bull with sensible shoes and a tote bag full of cookies. And you were right. The Angels are not conventional detectives, but their crime-solving methods have worked in the past. And I know deep down inside they’re going to work this time, too.”
“You’re always the voice of reason,” I said. “Which sometimes is really annoying.”
He grinned.
“What would I do without you?”
Mac leaned sideways and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Lucky for you, you don’t have to find out.”
* * *
* * *
When it was time for the trophy presentation, I insisted Mr. P. go up on stage with Elvis.
“You’re the one who did all the work,” I said. “You deserve a share of the accolades.” I looked over at Rose, who was giving Debra a little pep talk. Socrates had come in second to Nikita. “Don’t make me go get Rose.” I shook a finger at him.
“You win, my dear,” he said with a smile.
We were a rowdy bunch when Elvis and Mr. P. accepted the trophy. I glanced sideways to see Liz standing next to Avery with Channing Caulfield on her other side. He smiled and raised a hand in acknowledgment.
I kept my eyes fixed on Liz until she looked my way and I grinned at her. And winked. I probably should have skipped the wink, but in my defense Mac had let me eat two donuts. Liz shot back a look that told me I would be very sorry if I said anything in Channing’s presence. I pressed my lips together and mimicked zippering them closed. Then I turned back to the stage. I could feel her glaring at me. I half expected my hair to start smoking.
And then it was over, aside from taking apart our station on Sunday. Debra was going out with some of her friends. She was still in the running for both the regional and national titles, but not coming first had left her sad.
“I’m sorry Socrates didn’t win,” I said.
“He was off his game,” Debra said. “He misses Christine. And the ironic thing is if she were here, she’d be dancing around singing that Taylor Swift song ‘Shake It Off’ and telling me to move on.”
I smiled. “I can picture that.” I reached over to stroke Socrates’s fur. His dense gray coat reminded me of a teddy bear. “Rose says you’re going to stay for a couple more days,” I said.
She nodded. “And after that I may take Tim up on his offer to spend some time in Portland after all.” She looked across the arena. Tim had gone to get her a cup of tea. “You know, don’t you, that he has feelings for me?”
I shrugged. “I guessed.”
“I saw you watching him the other day and I thought you had.” She played with a button on the sleeve of her gray-striped sweater. “Rose told me to tell him the truth. I’m glad he’s my friend, but I don’t feel the way he does. I’m going to let him decide if he still wants me to stay with him.” She ducked her head for a moment and then looked up at me with a bit of an embarrassed smile. “She also said to tell him about the potato chips.”
I nodded because that sounded like Rose. “I’ve known Rose all my life,” I said. “She likes to occasionally point out that she changed my diapers.”
Debra smiled.
“She’s given me advice over the years and I haven’t always listened to it, but I’ve never been sorry when I did.”
* * *
* * *
Avery and Greg left with Liz and Channing. Liz would be picking up Rose just before eight for their turn at the stakeout. Charlotte went with Mac. He had already arranged when and where he’d get Mr. P. I’d told Charlotte I’d get her at quarter to six, which would give us lots of time to get in place outside the inn.
Rose had gone to talk to a couple of people before we left and Mr. P. was checking in with Memphis one last time. I stayed behind with Elvis and the massive trophy.
“Where are we going to put that?” I said to him. He cocked his head to one side and wrinkled his whiskers as though he was trying to figure that out.
“Congratulations!” a voice said.
I turned to see Jacqueline Beyer walking toward me, a big smile on her face. “I have some good shots of Elvis from the trophy ceremony,” she said. “I’ll text them to Alfred tonight.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Tomorrow or even next week is fine.”
“It’s no trouble,” she said. “I have some things I have to send out for Chloe because she has plans tonight.”
Chloe had plans. Maybe Rose was right about her and the show judge.
Elvis reached a paw out in Jacqueline’s direction. “No,” I said. “You’ll make her sneeze.”
Elvis turned his paw over and studied it as if trying to figure out how it was going to do that.
Jacqueline smiled at the cat. “I just took my allergy medicine about an hour ago, so I’m not too bad right now.” She looked at me. “Have you always been a cat person, Sarah?” she asked.
I laughed. “No. I wasn’t a cat person. I wasn’t a pet person at all.”
“How did you end up with Elvis, then?”
“The short version of the story is that a friend of mine has a business downtown. Elvis had been hanging around and he didn’t seem to belong to anyone. Sam—my friend—kind of tricked me into taking Elvis, and here we are.”
Jacqueline grinned back at me. “Ta-da! You’re a cat person.”
“Pretty much,” I said, shifting Elvis to my other side so he was a bit farther away from her. “What about you? How did you end up working around cats when you’re allergic to them?”
A strand of hair had come loose from her high ponytail and she brushed it back from her face. Her smile was gone, like a cloud blocking the sun. “My mother loves cats. She worked as a veterinary assistant for years. And she invented a padded vest-slash-safety harness system for cats and dogs, but nothing came of that. I grew up with cats. I wasn’t always allergic. That just developed in the past year or so.”
She looked at Elvis and her smile returned. “I hope you and Alfred are going to keep showing Elvis. You know, there are opportunities and money for the companion cats as well as the purebreds. Elvis doesn’t just have the King’s name, he also has some of his charisma.”
“It’s actually been a lot of fun. Maybe we will,” I said.
“I’m glad I got to meet you,” Jacqueline said. She fished a business card out of her pocket. “This is my card in case Elvis ever needs a social media person.” She handed it to me. Jacqueline arianne beyer, social media and promotion, it read. “And I’ll make sure Alfred gets those photos.”
Elvis was getting restless and I shifted him again so he could people watch over my shoulder. “I’m glad I got to meet you, too. And I should have told you earlier how much I like the banners with the cat sayings on them. I heard they were your idea.”
“I got a lot of them from my mom.” Jacqueline looked at the one over our head that read curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. “I’ll tell her you liked them.”
Jacqueline left to get back to work and I gave up on a wriggling Elvis and set him in the carrier bag where he grumbled and made a sulky face.
Mr. P. came back as I was debating whether or not to eat the last donut.
“How’s the pet expo?” I asked.
“Things are going very well,” he said. He removed his glasses, took out his lint-free cloth and began his glasses-cleaning ritual. “The uproar over the mice seems to have had no effect on visitors and everything is still on track for a record number of people at the expo. The vendors all seem to be happy, even Guardian.”
“What about the Hartmans?” I said. “How do they feel?”
He folded the little cloth and put it away again. “The Hartmans are happy, but I’m not. We haven’t caught the culprit.”
I nodded. I felt the same way. “I know Rose doesn’t think they could be behind the vandalism because it might cause the shows to lose money and that’s something Chloe would never risk, but do you think she could be wrong? Maybe they were trying to generate a little turmoil to help sell the reality show idea.”
“I thought of that but there was a very small window when the vandalism to the enclosures happened and both of the Hartmans were at a fund-raising dinner for a no-kill shelter at that time. That’s one thing they’re not guilty of.” He smiled. “I’m not giving up, my dear,” he said. “Not on finding out who’s been sabotaging these shows or who started the fire that killed Christine. I will get answers.”
Rose was coming our way carrying a large cardboard box and he hurried over to intercept her.
I looked up once more at the banner over my head. Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. I wondered if that was a sign and if it was a good one.
Chapter 18
We were on the way home less than ten minutes later. “All you have to do is take pictures,” Rose reminded me. “There isn’t any need to confront anyone.”
I nodded, hoping she would remember her own advice. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Charlotte is bringing her camera. We’ll see you at eight.”
I got Elvis some supper, changed my clothes, washed my face and headed out to get Charlotte. I grabbed the two plaid throw blankets from the sofa before I left. It was drizzling outside and I had a feeling it was going to be a cold stakeout.
I pulled into Charlotte’s driveway at exactly quarter to six. She was waiting, wearing her navy raincoat and carrying her small red and white cooler. She climbed in and set the cooler at her feet.
“Did you bring your camera?” I asked.
She patted the small bulge in the front of her coat. “Right here,” she said.
We found a place to park on the street on the opposite side, one house before the inn. We had a good view of the verandah, the path to the front steps and the sidewalk.
“What if the judge isn’t here?” I said to Charlotte as I unfastened my seat belt.
“Then we’ve spent two hours sitting at the curb when we could have been out on a hot date.”
“I didn’t actually have a hot date planned—or any date planned for that matter.”
“Speak for yourself,” Charlotte said with a grin as she reached for the cooler.
I stared at her, wide-eyed. “Charlotte Elliot, are you seeing someone?” I asked.
She gave an elaborate shrug. “Maybe.”
There was just enough illumination from the streetlight that I could see a flush of pink on her cheeks. I jabbed a finger in her direction. “Details.”
She took the lid off the cooler, set it on the seat between us and covered it with a red-and-white-checked napkin. “There isn’t that much to tell. It’s very new.”
“Is this someone you’ve known for a long time? Is it someone new? Is he older?” I waggled my eyebrows at her. “Is he younger? Did he ask you out or did you ask him?”
Charlotte had a bemused look on her face and she was shaking her head. “Good gracious! Were we all like this when we were trying to get you and Nicolas together? Do I sound like this to Nicolas now?”
“Yes and yes,” I said. “I’d like to point out my dental health was mentioned more than once, along with the thickness of Nick’s hair.”
Laughing, she put two sandwiches on the makeshift table. “I’m sorry. Really I am.”
I held up a finger. “One question. Are you having fun?”
She nodded. “I am.”
“Good,” I said. I reached for my sandwich. “I’m tabling the rest of my questions. For now, not forever.”
“Duly noted,” Charlotte said.
The sandwich was roast beef on sourdough bread with spicy mustard, dill pickles and sunflower sprouts.
“Can you teach me how to make sourdough bread?” I asked, wiping a bit of mustard from the edge of my lip.
“I believe I can,” she said.
Once again I’d forgotten I’d asked the question of a teacher. “Would you teach me? Please?”
She smiled. “I would be happy to. You’ve made a lot of progress when it comes to cooking.”
“That’s because you and Rose are such good teachers. Mom says you two had way more patience than she did when she was trying to teach me how to cook.”
Charlotte had also brought a thermos of hot chocolate for the two of us to share and she took a sip of hers before she answered. “In your mom’s defense, she was trying to teach two teenagers how to cook at the same time.”
“But Liam picked it up so easily,” I said.
Charlotte cleared away the beeswax wraps from our sandwiches and set a glass container of cookies in their place. “Your brother was motivated,” she said. “He figured if he could cook it would impress the heck out of women.”
“It worked all through high school. Heck, it’s still working now.” I reached for a cookie. As usual they were delicious—crispy on the edges, chewy and chocolatey in the middle.
“And once you were motivated you learned as well.”
I realized Charlotte was right. I’d gotten tired of scrambled eggs, take-out pizza and mooching off of Gram. But she and Rose had been infinitely patient, too. I’d always thought that a tiny bit of Rose’s motivation in teaching me to cook was because she hoped someday there would be little people that shared my teeth and Nick’s hair running around and that I’d be able to feed them.
We sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes before Charlotte spoke. “I shouldn’t have asked you to find someone for Nick. I need to stay out of his personal life.”
“I couldn’t think of anyone,” I said. “I did tell him he needs a personal life, though.”
“How did that go?” she asked.
I shrugged. “About how you’d expect. I love Nick like he’s my other brother, but he is stubborn.”
Charlotte nodded, brushing cookie crumbs off the front of her rain jacket. “I don’t know where he got that from.”
I stared at her without speaking until she laughed. Then suddenly she leaned forward. “Wait a minute. Is that him?”
“Nick’s here?” I said. Not a good thing.
“No,” Charlotte said. “James Hanratty. A car just went around back to the parking area. Is that him coming around the side of the inn?” She was already reaching for the camera, which she’d set on the seat when we began eating.
I looked at the man coming from the parking lot in back, walking down the driveway of the building, headed for the main entrance. The drizzle had stopped, but he had the collar of his dark-colored raincoat turned up and he was wearing a snap-brim fedora.
“That’s him,” I said. Charlotte started snapping photos. I wasn’t really sure if or why we needed them, but I didn’t see how it could hurt.
Once the judge had gone inside, Charlotte set the camera down. “Are we following him if he leaves?”
“I think we should.”
She picked u
p the empty cookie container and set it in the cooler. “Do you know what Mr. Hanratty drives?” she asked.
“According to Mr. P., a silver Subaru.”
Charlotte folded the checked napkin and set it inside the cooler as well. Then she put the lid back on, straightened up and looked at me. “Do you have any idea how to follow the man without getting caught?”
“Not a clue,” I said. “I don’t think Rose planned for that.”
Charlotte looked over at the inn. “Let’s just cross our fingers that we don’t have to.”
And luckily we didn’t. James Hanratty didn’t come out again and no one else showed up. Maybe he had no assignation planned for the evening. Maybe he was going to eat chips and watch Netflix.
At five to eight, Liz pulled up behind us.
“I feel as though we should be handing off night-vision goggles or something similar,” Charlotte said.
I shot her a look.
She gave me a cheeky smile. “I know. I don’t have the right attitude for a stakeout.”
“But you did have cookies,” I said. “I’m going to talk to Rose. I’ll be right back.”
I slipped out of the SUV and climbed in the backseat of Liz’s car next to Avery. Rose was in the front-passenger seat. “Has anything happened?” she asked.
“Hanratty got here a bit more than an hour ago. He’s been here ever since and no one else has come or gone.” I held up a hand. “Before you ask, yes, I’m certain it was him.”
“Good job,” Rose said. “You and Charlotte can go.”
“If you need anything, call me.”
“We’ll be fine, dear,” she said.
I got back into the truck and fastened my seat belt. “We’ve been dismissed,” I said.
* * *
* * *
I dropped Charlotte at her house and drove home. Elvis was sitting on the sofa. He looked at me and then looked at the TV. “You need to learn how to use the remote,” I said.
He looked blankly at me with his green eyes as if to say, that’s what I have you for.