Софи Райан - A Whisker Оf Trouble

The mental picture was so funny I laughed out loud. I’d actually seen it happen a few weeks previous when Nick and I went to meet Jess at her shop before Thursday night jam. One of the paramedics he’d worked with when he was an EMT was in the shop and somehow, before he knew what was happening, Nick was holding her little girl. The eight-month-old had looked befuddled and Nick had looked terrified, holding her out as if she were a bag of snakes.

My cell phone rang then. It was Jess. Elvis was settled in my desk chair having another bath. The cat had a bit of a fetish about being clean, even for a cat. I dropped onto the love seat.

“Hi,” Jess said. “Are you going to be at the shop all morning? I have a new bootie design I want to show you.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m going out to the Hall house.”

“Drat!” Jess was the only person I’d ever met who could say that and not sound silly.

“Was that all you wanted?” I asked.

There was silence for a moment and then she said, “So it was weird, me having dinner with Liam last night?”

“No . . . Maybe.” I let out a breath. “It’s just that Liam is my brother. And you and I have always talked about the guys we were dating.”

“ We were dating?” Jess said. I could hear an edge of laughter in her voice.

“We,” I repeated. “Although mostly you lately.”

Jess did laugh then. “I’m not dating Liam, but would you be okay if I wanted to?”

I couldn’t say no and I realized that I didn’t really want to. “Yes, I would be okay.”

“Then if it happens you’ll be the first to know.”

“Just maybe with a little less detail than usual,” I said.

Jess laughed again. “I promise.”

We said good-bye, and I grabbed my stainless steel travel mug and laced up my work boots. Then I pulled on my old paint-spattered sweatshirt.

“You’re in charge,” I told Elvis.

“Mrrr,” he said without looking up from the knot he was working out of his tail.

Charlotte had arrived when I got downstairs and Avery was bringing out the vacuum cleaner.

“Hey, Sarah, you want me to make a list of what’s under there?” she asked, pointing at the storage space with the end of the vacuum cleaner.

“Yes,” I said. “There’s a list taped to the wall just inside the door on the left, but it’s really out of date.”

Avery smiled. “Okay. I got this.” She looked at my coffee mug. “I could make you a smoothie some morning, you know, for a change.”

Avery was trying to get Liz to eat healthier. Liz, whose blood pressure, blood sugar and cholesterol were amazingly low for a woman her age, was quite happy with the way she’d been eating. “If the good Lord had wanted me to eat tofu, he would have made it less disgusting,” she liked to say.

On the other hand, some of Avery’s stir-fries and drink concoctions looked pretty good.

“Okay,” I said.

She looked around uncertainly. “Really?”

I nodded. “Yeah, really.”

A smile stretched across her face. “Cool.”

Mac was at the cash desk. “We can pick Rose up in fifteen minutes if that works for you.”

“It does,” I said. “By the time we get what we need and drive down to get her, it’ll be fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll start loading boxes,” he said.

I walked over to Charlotte. “Good morning, sweetie,” she said. She was wearing a bright blue apron over her skirt and sweater. Nick had her eyes and her smile.

I put my arm around her shoulder. “Avery is going to clean under the stairs and do inventory. Could you freshen up the front window?”

“Of course,” she said. “And Liz asked me to remind you about lunch.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I said. “My dress is upstairs.” I raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess—she also told you to tell me to show some leg.”

“Let’s just say among other things, and leave it at that,” Charlotte said, giving me a hug.

I laughed.

“I’d love to tell you she’s wrong about Channing Caulfield,” she began.

“But she’s not,” I finished.

The always pragmatic Charlotte shook her head. “No, she’s not. And he didn’t get where he is because he’s a softie.”

“Liz will eat him for lunch,” I said.

Charlotte smiled again. “My money’s on her.”

I patted the pocket of my jeans. “Phone’s on and I’ll be back in time to change,” I said.

Rose was standing at the bottom of the driveway when I pulled up to the house, carrying one of her big totes as usual. She climbed into the backseat. “Good morning, dear. Good morning, Mac,” she said. She smiled at Elvis, who was sniffing the bag she’d set next to him on the seat. “Good morning, Elvis,” she added.

I smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “Good morning, Rose,” I said. “Thanks for coming.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” she said as she fastened her seat belt. “I know how important this is to Stella.”

Mac turned in his seat. “Hi, Rose,” he said. He looked at me. “So, are we still going to work the same way?”

I nodded as I pulled away from the curb. “Uh-huh. We’ll start in the kitchen and work out to the front of the house. Remember, Stella wants the dishes.”

He nodded.

“And those colored Pyrex bowls,” Rose added.

Mac and Rose talked about our plan of attack as we drove out to the house. Elvis watched them both as though he were actually following the conversation.

As I pulled in to the driveway I glanced over at Paul Duvall’s house on the other side of the street. There was no sign of him or his daughter.

“Want to check things out before we start lugging in boxes?” Mac asked.

“I do,” I said.

We all got out of the SUV. Rose carried Elvis. I unlocked the front door and stepped inside the house. Rose set Elvis down in the entryway. He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose at me.

I could smell bleach. Stella had told me on the phone she’d wiped up the kitchen floor. It was better than the scent of blood and death that had been here before.

I hesitated for a minute, remembering Ronan Quinn’s body crumpled on the floor. Mac gave my shoulder a squeeze and eased past me as if he could read my mind. He stepped into the living room and looked around. “We’re taking that bookcase, aren’t we?” he asked, pointing at a tall, glass-fronted set of shelves to the left of the big window overlooking the street. It was piled with stacks of old newspapers and issues of National Geographic .

“Yes,” I said, walking over to join him. “Along with the sideboard and the hutch.” I pointed to the heavy wooden pieces against the end wall. “And a friend of Mr. P. wants to buy all those Geographic s.”

“You’re kidding?” Mac said.

Elvis had started for the kitchen with Rose. She turned to look at Mac. “Oh no,” she said. “Elwood and his brother, Jake, have a little side business selling old books and magazines. They’ll take every one of those Geographic s and keep your eyes peeled for any copies of The Saturday Evening Post . Elwood will take those, too.”

“Elwood and Jake?” Mac whispered. “The Blues Brothers? She’s messing with me, isn’t she?”

I grinned at him. “It’s Rose, Mac. There’s no way to know for sure.”

We followed Rose and Elvis out to the small kitchen. The smell of bleach was stronger. Elvis walked around gingerly sniffing the boxes piled by the windows where a table and chairs should have been. “That’s the wine,” I said. “It stays where it is.”

“Got it,” Mac said. He and Rose were already walking around looking in the cupboards. Rose would pack the dishes Stella wanted to keep while Mac did an inventory of everything else on his iPad so we’d know what we had when it came time to have the in-house estate sale I was planning.