Софи Райан - Telling Tails

Liz shook her head. “Shannon didn’t know, but I’m going for a massage. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Talk turned to what to do next. The consensus was to dig into Jeff Cameron’s background to try to figure out where he was at the moment and who was helping him.

Rose decided to spend the afternoon in the Angels’ sunporch office with Alfred, while Charlotte worked in the shop with Avery. Mr. P. looked as though a load had been lifted from his shoulders.

“I’m going to do some fact-finding,” Liz said, slipping one arm around my waist and walking me to the stairs.

“The kind of fact-finding that involves scented oil and a massage table?” I teased.

“The kind that I hope will either verify Alfred’s theory or put the kibosh on it.”

“So you think the idea that Jeff Cameron set up his wife is a little too far-fetched,” I said, lowering my voice so Charlotte and Avery didn’t have a chance of overhearing.

Liz scrunched up her nose at me. “Child, I’ve been around long enough that there’s very little that seems too far-fetched to me. But Detective Andrews and Nicolas, they don’t have the same amount of life experience.”

I smiled. “I love you,” I said, knowing what she’d say before she answered.

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, waving one hand dismissively. “Everybody does,” she said. And with that she headed out the door.

Chloe Sanders showed up around two o’clock. I was working out in the garage. Mr. P. came to get me. Charlotte and Rose were in the sunporch waiting with her.

“Sarah, this is Chloe,” Charlotte said. She gave the young woman a warm smile. “Sarah owns Second Chance.”

“Thanks for coming to talk to us, Chloe,” I said.

“Mrs. Elliot told me what happened,” she said. “I’m not sure I can help, but I’ll try.”

Chloe Sanders was tiny—barely five feet tall. Her shoulder-length brown hair had a deep blue streak of color in the front and she had three piercings in her left ear. In contrast, her clothes were conservative—black trousers and a crisp white shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves.

“Do you have any idea where Mr. Cameron is?” Rose asked.

Chloe shook her head. “I got a text from him last night telling me that he was going out of town so I had the rest of the week off.”

“Did he say anything to you yesterday?” I asked.

“I only saw him for a few minutes yesterday morning. He had me researching a list of companies. I was at the library and down at the town hall.”

Elvis padded into the room, jumped up onto Mr. P.’s desk and bumped Chloe’s arm with his head. She smiled down at him. “Hello,” she said.

“That’s Elvis,” I said.

She held out her hand and after he’d sniffed it Elvis let her stroke his fur. “What happened to his nose?” Chloe asked, indicating the long scar on the cat’s face.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It happened before I got him.”

“Was it typical for you not to talk to Mr. Cameron all day?” Charlotte asked. Her hands were folded over the apron she always wore in the shop.

“It was if he had meetings most of the day. He’d just give me a list of what he wanted done.” She continued to stroke Elvis’s fur. He had a blissful expression on his face.

“He had a meeting yesterday?” I asked.

She nodded. “In Portland. You know that Helmark provides temporary employees for businesses?”

“I do,” I said.

“Jeff was trying to convince more companies here to use Helmark. He had a lot of meetings.”

Chloe Sanders was articulate, not surprising for a former debater, and she looked whomever she was talking to in the eye when she spoke. I couldn’t see any reason not to believe she was telling the truth. I thought about Leesa saying Jeff called Chloe the Roomba. It was hard not to think of him as a jerk.

“How late did you work last night?” Rose asked.

“I think it was about quarter to six when I left the library. They close at six.”

“Chloe, do you mind telling us what you did last night?”

She cleared her throat, pressing her free hand to her mouth for a moment. “No. I don’t mind. Mom and Dad went to New Hampshire for a few days. They’re big NASCAR fans. I went home, ordered a pizza and watched TV. Like I said, Jeff sent me a text giving me the rest of the week off. That was it.”

I glanced at Elvis and then caught Rose’s eye. I gave my head a little shake. I turned my attention back to Chloe. “Thank you for talking to us,” I said.

“You’re welcome.” She gave Elvis one last scratch behind his ears and then she turned to Charlotte. “It was so good to see you, Mrs. Elliot. If you need anything else, call me, please.”

“I will,” she said. “I’ll walk you out.”

I waited until they were out of earshot, and then I turned to Rose. Elvis was washing his face.

“You saw that?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

That blissful expression Elvis had been wearing while Chloe stroked his fur hadn’t wavered until she’d told us she’d been home alone all evening watching TV. Then it had changed to a look that was the antithesis of contentment.

“Chloe Sanders lied about what she was doing last night,” I said.

“Do you think it’s possible that lovely child had something to do with what I saw?” Rose asked.

“I hope not,” I said.

“Alfred and I will see what we can find out about her.”

I nodded, hoping that the young woman Jeff Cameron had derisively referred to as a Roomba hadn’t gotten herself into a mess that couldn’t easily be cleaned up.

Rose came up to my office at about four thirty. “I’m taking Avery home with me to bake,” she said, standing in the doorway.

“Do you want a ride?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Liz is coming to get us. She didn’t manage to find out anything about who Lessa Cameron has been working out with. She said she’s not throwing in the towel, though.”

I smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

Rose yawned. “Would it be all right with you if we took the dog biscuits over to Casey tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I said.

She smiled then. “Thank you, Sarah.”

“Hey, I like Casey, too.”

“I mean thank you for everything you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours.” She paused for a moment. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere,” I said, “so you won’t be able to find out.”

“I love you, sweetie,” she said.

“I love you, too,” I said.

I stayed late to finish cleaning the wicker chairs so I could get them painted. Elvis was happy to curl up on my desk chair with a few fish crackers while he waited. I was standing back, admiring my handiwork, when Mac came into the garage.

“Hi. I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“I want to paint these tomorrow,” I said.

He walked around the two fat chairs. “They look a lot better than when you bought them from Cleveland.” Cleveland was a picker I bought things from on a regular basis.

I wiped my hands on my jeans. “Yeah, scraping off a layer of chicken droppings is pretty much guaranteed to spruce up anything.”

Mac grinned.

“What are you working on?” I asked, pulling off the old flannel shirt I’d been wearing over my T-shirt while I worked.

“Just gluing the joints of that old nursery rocker. I already sanded it, so one of us will be able to paint it.”

I stretched one arm up over my head. “Thanks,” I said. “I couldn’t do all of this without you, you know.”

He turned and smiled at me. “Hey, you’re the one who keeps finding treasures under layers of chicken poop.”

“And you’re the one who keeps all of this running while I’m off being Dr. Watson to the Sherlock Holmeses who have their office in my sunporch.”