by Sharon Pape
“I remember, but you didn’t say a word about Dr. Jerry.”
“You could say we bonded as he bonded Noah’s tooth. Before we left, he asked me out and I shocked myself by saying yes. I’m not usually that impulsive, but I immediately liked him. He must have felt that way too.”
“Divorced, widowed?” I asked. By the time people were approaching forty, never married was rarely their status.
“Divorced for five years, a boy and a girl a little younger than my kids. His ex moved to Watkins Glen for a job and he wanted to stay in their lives.”
“It’s not easy to start over in his profession without taking a big financial hit. Sounds like a good father. And after five years, you’re not just a rebound for him.”
“But what about me? Do you think I’m just lonely?”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting company. People are basically herd animals. We need other people. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to elope with the guy tomorrow. You want to know what I think?” She bobbed her head. “When you talk about him, you light up and twinkle. For now, that’s all you need to know. Stop second-guessing yourself. You’re allowed to have some fun.” I polished off my soda.
“You’re right. My sister told me I was getting ahead of myself. I don’t even know what that means. I love her to pieces, but we’re polar opposites. She’s never been able to give me sensible advice.”
“When do I get to meet Dr. Jerry?” I asked.
“How about a double date whenever Travis gets back in town?”
“I may come down with a toothache before then,” I said with a sly smile.
“Did I forget to mention that the practice is limited to children? Now can I have my soda back or are you planning to finish it too?”
* * * *
The medical examiner was scheduled to release his report on Ava Duncan’s death that night as a lead-in to the local evening news. Anyone who had seen her body in Lolly’s yard already knew she’d died from a fudge knife in her back. The ME had probably been waiting for toxicology results before going public. Although I didn’t expect to hear much that I didn’t already know, I felt obliged to watch just in case. Since I was investigating the case on Lolly’s behalf, I couldn’t afford to overlook any scrap of information.
The young reporter, who was in charge of the while-we-wait chatter, summarized what was already known about her death, made more poignant by the sobering video of a black body bag leaving Lolly’s shop and being loaded into the coroner’s van. The room quieted as the chief of police stepped onto the podium, strode to the microphone, and introduced the ME. When the younger man joined him there, the chief stepped back to give him room.
The ME was all business. He read his report in a monotone that started to lull me to sleep. In the end, the only thing I learned was that there were no drugs in Ava’s body at the time of her death. He glossed over her time of death with a broad reference to the afternoon she was discovered. Duggan had probably asked him not to be more specific with the public. That made it harder for Dani, and any other suspects. She’d have to account for her time over many hours. I’d already discussed that with her. The only thing I could do now to help her would be to find the killer and disprove their alibi. The police chief came back to the lectern and the two men fielded questions from the assembled reporters. The only problem with the reporter filling in for Travis was that he wasn’t Travis.
Travis was in New York City, filling in for one of the national news anchors away on vacation. Over the past six months, he’d heard murmurings that he was going to be offered a permanent position there, but somehow the opportunity never materialized. Until it did, he was at the ready every time they needed him to fill in. It didn’t matter that the trip to the city took five hours or more. Who measured dreams in hours and minutes? His parents and I were an enthusiastic if uncoordinated cheerleading troop.
I ate salmon and salad in the living room, watching Travis nail the news. He had the perfect voice for it, deep and resonant, reassuring regardless of the current state of the world. He called after the show. It was becoming our tradition, wherever he was. “You were great,” I told him.
He chuckled. “It’s the objectivity I appreciate the most. Listen, before I drove down here, I spent hours trying to find a listing for this Monroe Enterprises where Ava supposedly worked. I checked with the secretary of state for the state of New York. Then I scoured the internet. I even tried NAIC and still came up empty. As a last resort, I spoke to commercial realtors for this region—nothing.
“NAIC?”
“They provide multiple ways of looking up a company when you only have limited information to go by—got me nowhere.”
“Maybe her parents had the name wrong. I’ll give Liam a call tomorrow to double check.”
“Great. Now I’m off to meet my folks for dinner. Fair warning, they may hold me hostage until I set a date for them to meet you.”
“I’ve been giving it more thought and I decided it’s wrong to keep putting them off. It’s just nerves on my part. You have carte blanche to arrange a meeting. We’ll make it work.”
“Okay, thanks. But for the record—no matter how it goes, nothing will change between us.”
“Wow—somehow that makes me feel both reassured and twice as nervous. Is it going to be awful? Will they think I’ve cast some horrible spell over you?” I had an image of them hiring one of those organizations that snatches people out of cults and reverses their brain washing.
Travis laughed, but it sounded forced. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s going to be fine. Worst case scenario, it may take them a little while to adjust to this new paradigm, like it did with me.”
“You’re right.” I tried to sound more relaxed, but it sounded as forced as his laughter. We’d get through it. In the end, we’d be one happy family. Now I was getting ahead of myself.
Chapter 18
I’d almost forgotten there was a bus tour scheduled for the next morning. It would soon be the height of the tourist season and I, along with all the other shopkeepers in town, was busy spring cleaning. It was important that everything sparkled and shined. The window washers had been through the week before and now the last of winter was being swept out of each shop. The cherry trees that lined the streets were decked out in their showiest pink blossoms, and the New Camel Chamber of Commerce had crews hanging baskets of scarlet, pink and white impatiens from the old-fashioned light poles. Everyone seemed energized and optimistic. But the best sight of all that late May morning was Lolly back in her candy shop.
Although she was still a person of interest in Ava’s death, Duggan had removed the yellow police tape and allowed her to go back to work in time for the tourists. Mayor Tompkins must have had something to do with it. I would have loved to eavesdrop on the conversation between those two men. I know what I would have told the detective: “The yellow crime tape in the middle of our quaint little town will be a scary reminder of our rising murder rate. Word of mouth about it will spread fast and far. And don’t forget about Lolly’s candy shop. In every survey done by our tourism board, otherwise known as Edgar Abernathy, her shop was the number one attraction by a seven to one margin. We need Lolly and her shop if we want a vibrant tourist season.” But apparently the mayor was successful without my help.
I walked over to welcome Lolly back and found the shop to be a veritable whirlwind of activity. Her daughters were busy cleaning while she concentrated on making her delectable wares. No small order. All the shelves in the display cases had to be filled. Under normal circumstances, she’d only need to refill a tray or two at a time as they ran out. This was like the day many years ago when she’d first opened her shop.
She’d been a lot younger back then, she was quick to point out. “There’s no way I could do it today without my kids’ help.”
Dani pulled her head out of the display case she was cleaning. �
��Don’t let my mother fool you, she’s been here since dawn working harder than any of us.”
I didn’t doubt it for a second. The whole town smelled like the inside of a rich chocolate truffle. I wanted to ask Dani how she and her mother were holding up, but I decided this was not the time for it. I returned to my own shop, where Sashkatu was on his window ledge warming his old bones in the morning sunlight, and I got back to cleaning every nook, jar, and cranny. He watched me work with the contented sigh of the elderly who have earned the right to rest.
Once I was satisfied with how the shop looked, I went down the hall and through the connecting door to Tea and Empathy. Tilly was baking and setting the tea tables with fine china and shining silver flat wear. Merlin was planted on his high stool at the entrance to the kitchen, watching the oven timer tick down. When he turned to me, I stopped dead in my tracks. The wizard had undergone a metamorphosis. Somehow my aunt had sweet-talked or badgered him into letting her trim his beard and hair. He could have graced the cover of Sorcerer’s Quarterly, had such a magazine existed. He was wearing a white shirt and beige pants that were exact replicas of the much coarser shirt and burlap pants in which he’d traveled across the centuries. But the new garments were clean and made from finer fabrics. There was only one person in New Camel who could have created such well-tailored clothes—Evelyn, muumuu maker extraordinaire.
“You look so handsome,” I said, “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Merlin rubbed his palm across his manicured beard. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I was perfectly fine before Matillda dressed me up like some dandy. I’ve never cared much about appearances—just ask Arthur or Lancelot.”
The timer rang before I could point out the impossibility of his suggestion. Tilly came around the wall that divided the rest of the shop from the kitchen.
She stopped when she saw me. “Kailyn—I thought I heard voices back here.” I kissed her slightly damp cheek and whispered in her ear that she’d done wonders with the wizard.
“I finally had a meltdown about untangling his beard and mending his rags. Don’t even ask how much Evelyn took me for, the old miser. I should have learned to sew when my grandma Gwyneth wanted to teach me. When you’re young, you ignore opportunities, because you think they’ll always be available.”
“Tilly, my dear,” Merlin said sweetly, “shouldn’t you be removing the scones from the oven before they burn?”
“I’m going, I’m going,” she muttered. “He’s like a timer with a nagging function.” Through my aunt’s windows, I saw people walking on the sidewalks in small groups. The tour bus must have arrived early. I said goodbye and hurried back to my shop. The general consensus among the shopkeepers was that when day-trippers came early, we opened early. It was just good business sense to cater to the tourists in every way we could. I wanted to call Liam and Brock, but it would have to wait until after the bus left.
The passengers on the tour were older women, from fifty all the way up to one woman who was approaching the hundred-year mark, and she made sure everyone knew it. She had her routine down pat. “I’m Teresa and I’ll be one hundred years young come August the twelfth,” she announced as soon as she cleared the threshold. “My family is making me a big party to celebrate. It’s going to be spectacular.” Her mind was still sharp for her age, but her body required the help of a wheelchair. “This is Debra,” she added, introducing me to the stocky middle-aged woman who was ferrying her around. “She was afraid to come in here. She’s a marvelous companion, but scared of her shadow.”
“Now I’ve told you, Teresa,” Debra said, “I’m not scared, I’m just cautious. Better safe than sorry, you know.”
Teresa laughed. “If someone says boo, she’ll be out the door lickety-split.”
Debra shook her head and smiled. “She can be a trial, this one.”
“Enough talking, let’s go for a spin around this place. Maybe we’ll find some eye of newt to make you brave.”
“Or bat wings to mellow your sharp tongue,” Debra replied, steering her down the first aisle. There were two people waiting at the counter to pay, so I hurried over to ring them up. Most of the women had never been to New Camel, but they’d clearly heard about my shop, because they came with lists of specific products in hand.
When the bus pulled out of town at two o’clock, I was tired and hungry. I peeked in at Tilly’s and scored a leftover scone with clotted cream and raspberry jam. With only a few hours left of the business day, the only shoppers likely to come in were locals who knew what they wanted and needed little help from me. I decided to try a call to Brock, but as it was ringing, Valerie Duncan beeped in on call-waiting. “I hope I’m not getting you at a bad time,” she said, her voice thin and fragile.
“Not at all. What can I do for you?”
“You asked us to call if we thought of anything that might help you with the investigation into…” Her voice trailed off, the words still too difficult to say.
“Yes,” I said quickly, so she didn’t have to finish the sentence. “Sometimes the smallest clue can break a case wide open. I’m glad you called. You’ll always find a ready ear with us.”
“Thank you,” she said, sounding a little more confident. “A few months after Ava started her new job, I remember her telling me she was worried about its longevity.”
“Did she say why?”
“She thought the company was flirting with insolvency. When she broached her concerns to the head of accounting, he told her not to worry about it. They expected a large infusion of capital in a matter of days. She should just ask the creditors to be patient with them for a bit longer. She could blame the holdup on the government if she had to.”
“Did Ava ever tell you if the problem was resolved?”
“No, but she never said she was worried about her job after that, so I assumed it had worked out.” I thanked Valerie and assured her she could call anytime. I clicked off the call, but I couldn’t get Monroe Enterprises off my mind. First there was Travis’s difficulty in finding a listing for the company, and now this new financial wrinkle, and the fact that the government was involved.
Chapter 19
Calling Brock Davenport, Ava’s erstwhile boyfriend, was on my to-do list for that evening, but the cats came first. After they ate, we played a lively game of chase the laser dot. As I’d come to expect, Sashkatu abstained. Lying along the top of the couch, he regarded the other cats with regal contempt and an expression that said, You’re making utter fools of yourselves chasing that ridiculous red dot around. They didn’t seem to take Sashki’s disdain to heart. They played on enthusiastically for another twenty minutes, at which point they went off in search of their favorite places to snooze.
I joined Sashki on the couch and dialed Brock’s number. By the fourth ring, I was thinking of the message to leave on his voice mail. But he picked up at the last moment, making me switch gears and stumble over my words. “Mr. Br… Mr. Davenport,” I said, “I’m… my name is Kailyn Wilde. I’m a private investigator looking into Ava Duncan’s death.”
“Yeah, you and the rest of the known world.” Brock was not a happy camper. I wondered who, aside from Duggan, had contacted him. “I’ll give you the same big scoop I gave them—I didn’t do it. Now leave me the hell alone!” He hung up with the thud of an old-fashioned receiver being slammed down. Apparently, there was an app for that.
I had one more call to make. Liam answered the phone with a cheery uptick to his voice. “Kailyn—are you calling to let me know you’ve found the killer?” There were times when Caller ID was a benefit and times when I wished it had never been invented. It gave the person on the other end a chance, albeit a brief one, to ready themselves for the coming conversation.
“Unfortunately not yet. I just need to check on some information. What’s the name of the company Ava worked for?”
“Monroe Enterprises,” he said
without hesitation.
“Do you know if that’s the full name?”
“Far as I know. That’s how Ava always referred to it. You can check with my folks.”
“They’re the ones who gave me the name. Did your sister ever show you where she worked?” It was a long shot, but worth asking.
“No, I never got around to visiting her in Watkins Glen,” he said with a sigh. “I kept meaning to make the trip. You know how it is—work or something always got in the way. I had no way of knowing—” He cut himself off. “It’s a regret I’ll carry for the rest of my life.”
“We’re all haunted by regrets like that.” It was all I could think to say. I was about to thank him and say goodbye, when he threw out a question that caught me off guard. “Are you seeing that guy Travis or do you just work together?”
“Both.” I wondered where he was headed.
“You could do better, you know, professionally as well as personally.”
I started to laugh, but I caught myself in time to mask it as a hiccup. “Thanks for the advice.” I tried to keep the sarcasm in my mind from seeping into my tone. It must have worked, because Liam continued without the slightest hesitation.
“One day you’ll realize I’m right. When that happens, I’ll be here. I know how to treat a woman.” He said the last phrase in a deep register that was clearly not natural, because his voice broke halfway through it. The result was not sexy or masterful as he’d no doubt intended. Rather, it made him sound like an adolescent going through the changes from boy to man. I told him I’d keep his offer in mind and wished him a good night, before I could say something that made me persona non grata. At our meeting at the pizza place, he’d joked that he didn’t know what irritated a woman or he might have one in his life. It was clear he still had no clue.
Although the call hadn’t helped clarify the name of Ava’s firm or why it was so difficult to locate, Liam had given me an idea about how to wangle an interview with Brock Davenport. It wasn’t foolproof, but it might get me in his door. The only problem was Travis. If I ran the plan past him, he might veto it because it required that I pay Ava’s ex a visit by myself. If I didn’t tell him about it, he’d be angry I’d gone behind his back. I got it—that’s how I’d feel under the same circumstances. I spent a good chunk of the night weighing my two lousy options. A third option, forgetting about Brock altogether, was a non-starter. At this point in the investigation, he was a lead suspect. Giving up on him because he didn’t invite me over for tea and cookies was ridiculous. If anything, his refusal to be interviewed was a reason to go after him at any cost. In the end, I decided to tell Travis about my plan, leaving out provocative words like at any cost.