Софи Райан - Telling Tails

“They worked for Lawrence Welk and Weird Al Yankovic,” I said. “Why?”

“I helped Glenn move a sofa for his uncle last night. The old man offered me a couple of accordions that Glenn said have been in the house since Adam was a cowboy. Now I’m starting to think I should have taken the bottle of homemade beer instead.”

I made a face. “Accordions are tricky. There’s not a very big resale market and there’s a lot of junk out there.”

“I knew I should have gone with the beer,” Mac said. He smiled, which told me he really didn’t mean it.

I set my things down on the cash desk. “Hang on a minute,” I said. “Let me take a look. The big thing with old accordions is whether they can still be played.”

I pulled the smaller of the two instruments out of the box. It was made of red plastic and I knew at once it was a child’s toy. “You might get a dollar for this at a yard sale,” I said.

Avery was just coming through the shop, probably headed for the second-floor staff room to see what Rose had brought to eat in her overstuffed tote bags. “Can I have it?” she asked. She fished three quarters out of the pocket of her jeans and held them out to Mac. “I don’t have a dollar.”

“You can have it,” he said. “But you don’t have to pay me.”

Avery took the accordion from me and held the quarters out to Mac. “Nonna will have a cow if she thinks I’m taking advantage.”

“All right, then,” Mac said taking the money from her hand.

Avery beamed with happiness, clutched the plastic accordion to her chest and took the stairs two at a time.

Mac walked over to me.

“What is she going to do with that?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” he said.

“I like that she isn’t worrying so much about what other people think.”

“You can thank Rose for that,” Mac said. “And you deserve some credit, too.” He gave me a nudge with his elbow.

“You know, I’m glad it’s worked out, Avery moving here with Liz.” I looked up at the ceiling, half expecting to hear the sound of the toy instrument coming through from upstairs.

“Liz is going to have a cow when Avery takes that thing home, you know.”

I held up both hands. “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who sold it to her.”

Mac shook his head and laughed. Then he gestured at the box. “What are we going to do with that one?”

“Hang on a second,” I said. “At least let me take a look.” I lifted the second accordion out of the box. It was black, a bit larger than the one Avery had just disappeared upstairs with. I slipped my hands through the straps and squeezed. It was still playable, and to my uneducated ear the sound was fine.

I turned the instrument around to check the name, although I had a feeling what I was going to see. HOHNER STUDENT IVM it said on the front of the accordion. “We should be able to get a few dollars for this one,” I said.

“Well, that’s good,” Mac said. “How much are you thinking?”

I shrugged. “Four, maybe five . . . hundred dollars.”

His mouth actually fell open a little. “You’re not serious?”

“Yes, I am,” I said, grinning at him. “I know about this much about accordions.” I held up my thumb and index finger about half an inch apart. “But I know that Hohner is a quality instrument and this particular accordion is in very good shape. I’ll see what Sam thinks, but this is better than a growler of Clayton McNamara’s beer.”

Rose came downstairs then, carrying two mugs of coffee. She handed one to me and the other to Mac. “There’s rhubarb cinnamon coffee cake in the staff room,” she said. Then she smiled up at Mac. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said slowly, frowning in confusion.

She patted his arm. “Liz is going to kill you when she finds out you sold that accordion to Avery,” she said. She turned to me. “I’m just going to put out those quilts you washed,” she said. “We should get two bus tours today.”

I nodded and managed not to laugh until she’d gone into the workroom. Then I bumped Mac with my hip. “I’m going to miss you, too,” I said, grabbing my things and heading for the stairs.

I knew it was wrong to compare two people with very different personalities, but I couldn’t help noticing how easy everything was with Mac. I couldn’t help wishing it was that way with Nick.

Half an hour later I’d just finished printing out the orders that had come in via our Web site when Mr. P. knocked on my door. “Sarah, do you have a minute?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said, gesturing at the love seat across from my desk. “Have a seat.”

Mr. P. sat down and I leaned forward, propping my elbow on the arm of my chair. “What’s up?”

“I discovered some interesting information about Jeff Cameron’s young assistant, Chloe Sanders.”

“Interesting how?”

“This job was just for the summer.”

I nodded. “Chloe’s a student at Cahill College.”

One eyebrow went up. “That’s the interesting part, my dear. She isn’t.”

I frowned at him. “What do you mean she isn’t?”

“I mean she didn’t take any classes last semester.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Did she fail the previous term or did she drop out?”

“As far as I can determine, she took a one-term deferment at the very last minute. She said it was for personal reasons.”

“Do I want to know how you know that?” I asked.

Mr. P. smiled. “I don’t think that you do,” he said. “What I find interesting is that she left that information off her résumé and off the job application she filled out for Helmark online.”

“She wouldn’t be the first person who fudged a résumé,” I offered.

He nodded. “True. But it’s more than that. Jeff Cameron was a guest lecturer in the Global Studies Department back in March. The lecture was only for students and faculty.”

“Chloe was at the lecture.”

“She was. It piqued my curiosity, so I did a little digging.”

I could tell from the beginnings of a smile on his face that his digging had unearthed something.

“So what did you dig up?” I asked.

“Two weeks after he was at Cahill, Jeff Cameron was at a business roundtable at the University of New Hampshire. There were photographs on the university’s Web site.”

It was obvious where he was going. “Chloe was in the audience.”

Mr. P. nodded. “The tickets were sixty-five dollars. I don’t like to generalize, but how many young women would spend that amount of money to attend a talk on outsourcing?”

“Not a lot.” I pulled my hands back through my hair. “Do you think she was having an affair with Jeff?” I remembered what Leesa Cameron had said about Jeff calling his assistant a Roomba. Would he have been having an affair with someone he saw as the equivalent of a vacuum cleaner? I was starting to dislike the man even more.

My office door moved then and Elvis padded into the room. He jumped onto the love seat next to Mr. P., who smiled at the cat and reached over to stroke his fur. “I don’t know,” he said. “According to Rosie, the young woman didn’t seem that upset at the idea that her boss had run off with another woman.”

He was right. Chloe Sanders had seemed a bit concerned, but she had showed none of the emotion that Leesa Cameron had displayed.

“I’d like to know more about why Chloe took a semester off and why she left that information off her résumé. She used her faculty adviser as a reference on that résumé.”

I linked my hands behind my head. “You’re thinking a road trip to Cahill College?” I asked.

Mr. P. smiled. “I’m thinking a road trip to the library, my dear.” He glanced at his watch. “In about half an hour.”