Софи Райан - The Fast Аnd Тhe Furriest

“My plan was to teach in the old garage space but now that it’s been finished I realize I don’t have enough space out there now that the area has been turned into work space,” I said.

“Have you thought about contacting Legacy Place to see about renting space from them?” Charlotte asked. “They have classes there for more than just seniors.”

Elvis, who was sitting up on the cash desk, meowed his agreement.

“See?” Charlotte said. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Well, then, how can I disagree?” I said.

We worked in silence for a few minutes. Charlotte’s mind seemed to be somewhere else. I had to ask her twice to pass me a cloth. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head and handing me the duster.

“Where were you?” I asked, lifting down a lamp that I had decided I was going to move to a small bookcase on the end wall.

Charlotte brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “Thinking about this case, about Mac. I keep wondering why Erin Fellowes came all the way from Boston to North Harbor. If what she wanted to talk to Mac about was so important, why didn’t she call?”

I shrugged and set the lamp on the floor by my feet. “I just assumed Mac had changed his cell number and Erin didn’t have it.”

Charlotte frowned at a teapot and moved it about an inch, nodding with satisfaction. Then she looked at me again. “But she showed up here , she knew he worked here . Why didn’t she just call him here?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea.” We hadn’t figured out how Erin had learned where Mac was.

“You know, we’re all assuming Erin found out something that made her change her mind about Mac’s guilt. She told you to tell him that she believed him.”

I nodded, remembering the intensity in Erin’s face.

“And we’re assuming the person who tried to kill Leila followed Erin and killed her as well.”

I nodded again. “It’s the best theory we have right now.”

“Maybe Erin didn’t find out something that cleared Mac,” Charlotte said. She picked up a small china cream pitcher and turned it over in her hands. “Maybe she found something else.”

I wasn’t sure what she was getting at. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Maybe Erin found something.” Charlotte gestured with the pitcher. “Some thing , that somehow implicated the real would-be murderer. Something she brought here to show to Mac. Maybe because she hoped he would recognize it.”

Her reasoning made sense. “So what was the thing?”

“I think it had to be something small. Something she could have picked up and carried around without drawing attention to herself. Did she have a purse or a bag with her?”

I closed my eyes for a moment and pictured Erin Fellowes getting out of her small sports car and walking over to me. “Yes,” I said. I opened my eyes again and looked at Charlotte. “A small multicolored cross-body bag. And her dress had a full skirt with pockets.”

Charlotte was nodding.

“You think she had whatever this evidence was in her bag or in her pocket.”

“Yes.”

“We need to find it, whatever it is.”

“We do,” she said.

I just had no idea how to do that.

Chapter 14

“There’s no way that Michelle would tell me what was with Erin’s body,” I said. “Even if she was still on the case.”

“It would be pointless to ask Nicolas,” Charlotte said, setting the cream pitcher on the seat of a folding wooden beach chair. She glanced toward the door to the workshop—and the Angels’ sunporch office.

I knew what she was thinking and I had no doubt Mr. P. could get the information but I also knew I didn’t feel comfortable with the methods he’d likely have to use.

“I’m going to call Josh,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “He may have some way to find out.”

Luckily Josh was in his office and available. I explained Charlotte’s reasoning and what we were looking for.

“Let me see what I can do,” he said. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I have anything.”

“All we can do now is wait,” I said to Charlotte as I tucked my phone back in my pocket.

“I’ll cross my fingers,” she said.

I shrugged. “It can’t hurt.”

Mr. P. showed up at lunchtime. Charlotte and I were sitting by the back door with our sandwiches. Avery was watching the shop and working on a display of perfume bottles. Mr. P. was wearing a straw fedora with a red and navy hatband and a red golf shirt. And he was smiling.

“You’ve had a good morning,” I said.

He nodded. “I have some information about Davis Abbott.” One eyebrow went up. “He wasn’t at that workshop.”

“Not at all?” Charlotte asked.

“Not at all,” Mr. P. said. “It turns out Davis and the workshop organizer are old friends.” A huge smile spread across the old man’s face. “It turns out that William—the man who puts on these workshops—is a poker player.”

Mr. P., with his excellent memory, ability to read people and perfect poker face, was an excellent cardplayer. I’d never actually played with him. I knew better than that.

“We got to talking and eventually I got him to admit he was covering for Davis,” he continued, “so Stephanie wouldn’t know where he was. William seemed to think Davis was ‘stepping out’ on her, as he put it. He said she could be pretty intense sometimes.”

“What do you think?” I asked.

He gave the slightest of shrugs. “I see two possibilities. Either William is right or Davis Abbott may have been plotting to kill Erin Fellowes.” He smiled then. “How was your morning?” he asked.

“Charlotte came up with an idea and I think she may be onto something,” I said. I explained Charlotte’s theory that Erin had brought something to show Mac and how I’d called Josh to see if he could get a list of what had been with Erin’s body.

Mr. P. nodded slowly. “I think you could be right,” he said to Charlotte. “Good work.” Then he looked at me. “I assume you’d like to wait to see if Josh can find out anything before I see what I can do?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable.

“I think that’s very wise, my dear,” he said. “This is Mac. We need to be like Caesar’s wife.”

“Above reproach,” Charlotte said quietly.

He nodded approvingly. “Exactly.”

Mac stuck his head out the back door then. “Sarah, by any chance do you have more quilts up in your office?” he asked.

“I do,” I said. “There are three that Jess repaired. I was going to get Avery to put them out this afternoon.” I set my coffee cup by my feet. “What do you need more quilts for?” I knew there were two on display in the shop.

“Adam and James are looking for four quilts for the inn,” he said.

Adam and James were big-city transplants who had restored a gorgeous old house in Camden and were running it as an inn. They’d found Second Chance by accident on their way to a funeral in Portland a few weeks previous and had become good customers since then. “They bought the last two quilts that Jess fixed just a couple of weeks ago,” I said.

Mac held up both hands. “I don’t know what happened,” he said. “All I can tell you is Adam said there was a goat involved.”

Charlotte and Mr. P. exchanged a look. “Hedley,” they said together.

I turned to Charlotte. “Who?”

“Hedley Forbes,” she said. “He keeps goats.”

“Why?” I asked.

“He makes cheese.”

“From goat’s milk?”

“People with sensitivities to cow’s milk prefer it,” Mr. P. said helpfully.

“I know Hedley has had a problem with them getting out.” Charlotte got to her feet, brushing crumbs off her skirt. “At least that’s what he told Rose.”