Софи Райан - Telling Tails

“What do you mean?” I said.

“Let’s say it was Leesa Cameron dragging her husband’s body.” Rose held up a hand. “And yes, I know she has an alibi, but for now let’s say she doesn’t.”

I stuck the key in the ignition but didn’t start the car. “Okay, let’s say that.”

“Who hit me over the head, injected me with—with whatever it was that knocked me out? She had help.”

Elvis murped his agreement.

Why hadn’t I thought of that before? In all the uproar, that little detail had slipped past me. I pounded lightly on the steering wheel. “Good question. Who was it?”

“Did you ever read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?” Rose asked.

Conversations with Rose could easily veer off on a tangent, so I didn’t bother asking how the creator of Sherlock Holmes was connected to Rose being hit over the head and most likely injected with something that knocked her out. “In an English class in college,” I said.

“Then you probably know what he said about eliminating the impossible so that whatever is left, even if it seems preposterous, has to be the truth.” She patted her white hair. “I’m paraphrasing, of course.”

“I know the quote,” I said.

Elvis nudged her hand and she resumed stroking his fur. “Well, I’ve always thought Sir Arthur was making things unnecessarily complicated. Instead of wasting a lot of time eliminating the impossible, in my experience it’s better to look at the most obvious answer first.”

If Nick had been with us, he would have rolled his eyes because I knew what she meant without any more of an explanation. “You think Leesa was involved with someone.”

Rose nodded. “Exactly, and it’s impossible to keep that kind of thing a secret in a small place like this. Not for very long.”

“So if”—I put extra emphasis on the word—“ if Leesa Cameron did something to her husband because she was involved with another man, and if we can find out who that man is, we can figure this whole thing out.” Because of course that wasn’t impossible or improbable at all.

Rose beamed at me. “Well, now we have a plan,” she said.

On the drive back to the store, Rose and Elvis discussed cat treats. It seemed that she felt she should make some for him since she was going to make dog biscuits for Casey.

Second Chance is in a red brick building that was built in the late eighteen hundreds. We’re located on Mill Street where it curves and begins to climb uphill, about a twenty-minute walk from the harbor and easily reached from the highway—the best of both worlds for tourists. Gram holds the mortgage on the building and I’m working to pay her back as quickly as I can.

As we turned into the parking lot at the shop, Nick pulled in behind us. He got out of his truck and walked over to the SUV as we got out. He shot me a quick smile and focused his attention on Rose, putting both his hands on her shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked.

He was tall, over six feet, with Charlotte’s eyes and smile. He was wearing a blue golf shirt and what I thought of as his work pants, ones that seemed to me to have at least a dozen pockets.

“I’m fine,” she said, smiling up at him. She turned her head and pushed her hair to one side so he could check out where she’d been hit on the head, and then she held out her arm and let him check the bandage the nurse had put on in the hospital. “I can take that off tomorrow,” she told him.

“Make sure you keep it dry for a couple more days.”

Rose nodded. “I will. Sarah wrapped my arm in a couple of plastic bags before I got in the tub last night.”

Nick glanced at me. “Very resourceful,” he said. He turned back to Rose. “Any headaches, blurred or double vision? Are you nauseous? Have you eaten?”

Rose held up a hand and ticked off her fingers. “No, no, no, no and yes.” She kept a completely straight face, so while I knew she was humoring him just a little, I didn’t think he did.

Nick looked at me again. “Show me the place on her neck,” he said.

Rose turned around and bent her head forward, and I showed him the tiny red mark. It seemed to me it had already faded a bit more. Nick pulled out his cell phone and peered at Rose’s neck through the phone’s camera lens.

“Is that some kind of magnifying glass?” I asked, leaning over for a closer look.

He nodded. “Fifteen times magnification.”

“You get all the cool toys in your job,” I teased.

Nick straightened up. “Actually, this came from Liam.”

“Liam my brother?” I said.

“Only Liam I know. Yeah.”

Rose straightened up and turned back around. “So what do you think?” she asked.

“It’s possible that spot is an injection site,” he hedged, pretty much as I’d expected.

She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“What do you remember?” Nick asked.

“Not a lot,” she said. “Pain on the side of my head and my neck. The next thing I knew I woke up to a very nice dog nudging me with his nose.” She looked at me. “Would you be able to drive me over after supper to take some biscuits to Casey?”

I nodded. “Sure.” I looked at Nick. “So?”

He frowned. “It’s possible Rose was drugged, but the only way to know for sure is a blood test.” He looked at Rose. “You can go to the hospital and have it done. I can call them.”

“Could you do it?” she asked. “I mean, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble? I got poked a lot last night. I feel a bit like a pincushion.” She gave him a guileless look that I probably would have fallen for myself if it wasn’t for the fact that she’d used the same look on me about a dozen times before I got wise to it.

Nick hesitated.

Rose leaned over and patted his hand. “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled down at her. “I can do it. I’ll get my bag and be right there.”

“You are a darling man,” she said. She gestured at his cell phone. “Is that the magnifying thingie?” She took the phone from Nick’s hand before he realized what was happening. “Oh, Alfred would love one of these. May I show it to him?”

Nick looked a bit uncertain, eyes darting from the phone to Rose to me. “Umm, all right.”

“Thank you, dear,” she said with a smile. “I’ll see you inside.” She got her tote bag from the front seat. Elvis jumped down and the two of them headed for the back door of the shop.

Nick opened the passenger door of the truck and from the backseat grabbed a black nylon backpack that I knew held all his medical supplies. He was trying to stifle a grin and not really succeeding.

“I know what you did,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, but the grin got loose and I knew for sure I was right. He was playing Rose just as much as she had been playing him. Sometimes seeing Nick and Rose interact was like watching Tweety Bird and Sylvester the Cat.

“I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night,” I retorted.

“Okay,” he said, the grin turning a little sheepish. “I know how Rose is when it comes to doctors and hospitals. I figured if I suggested me taking her blood right off the bat she’d say no, but if the hospital was the first choice I’d look a lot better.”

“Very sneaky,” I said as we started for the door. And that might have worked if Rose hadn’t been manipulating the situation to achieve the same end, although I had no idea what her reasons were.

He raised an eyebrow. “I prefer to think of it as resourceful.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t quite as resourceful as he thought.

“So what will this blood test do?” I asked.