Софи Райан - A Whisker Оf Trouble

“As part of this investigation or as something separate?”

“Both,” Rose said, looking up from the box she was taping shut.

“How do you know that?” I said, rubbing a knot out of the back of my neck with one hand.

Rose looked at me unblinkingly. It was disconcertingly like the look Elvis often gave me.

I shook my head. “This falls into the category of things I’d probably be happier not knowing, doesn’t it?”

Rose just smiled.

“Do you know how Edison Hall got interested in collecting wine in the first place?” Mac asked. “Did Stella say anything about it?”

“Not to me,” I said. I looked inquiringly at Rose.

She shook her head. “She didn’t say anything to me, either.”

Mac raised an eyebrow. “That might be useful information to have,” he said.

Rose nodded slowly. “Yes, it might,” she said. She glanced at her watch. “Sarah dear, don’t you need to get back and get ready for your lunch date?”

I straightened up. “Yes, I do. Are you two coming back here after lunch? I don’t need the SUV.”

“I brought lunch for the two of us,” Rose said, smiling at Mac and tipping her head in the direction of her tote bag sitting on the one bare space on the counter. “We could just stay here and you could come back for us.”

Mac shrugged. “Fine with me.”

“Why don’t you drive me down to the shop?” I said to him. “Then when you’re ready, you and Rose can leave. I have no idea how long this lunch of Liz’s is going to take.”

“Do you mind staying here by yourself?” he said to Rose. “It won’t take me very long to drive Sarah back to the shop.”

Elvis meowed loudly and it seemed to me, just a bit indignantly.

“As Elvis just pointed out, I won’t be by myself,” Rose said with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll start packing up those National Geographic magazines while you’re gone.”

Rose seemed to have an unlimited amount of energy. She could work someone half her age under the table.

“There are a couple of plastic bins in the living room,” Mac said. “You can use those, but don’t lift them. I’ll move them when I get back.”

“All right,” she said in the tone of someone who was just humoring him. She patted my arm as she passed me. “Don’t let Liz get off-topic, dear,” she said. “You know how she can be.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said, pulling down my shirtsleeves. “But I’m not promising anything, because I do know how she can be.”

“I’m just going to grab the toolbox,” Mac said as we pulled in to the lot at the store. “I think I’m going to have to take the hutch and the sideboard apart.”

“Put in a couple more hours and call it a day. I’ll be back . . . when I’m back.”

“All right,” he said. Then he smiled. “Good luck with Liz.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I think finding that model train was a good omen.”

Of course I was wrong.

Chapter 11

Liz was standing by the front door talking to Charlotte when I came down the stairs. I was wearing the dress Charlotte had suggested with heels that were probably too high and lipstick that was probably too red.

Liz looked at me and made a circular motion with her index finger. “Twirl.”

I did a slow pirouette for her.

“Perfect,” she said.

“You look lovely,” Charlotte said with a smile.

I stuck out one foot. “Are these shoes too much?” I asked.

Liz gave a snort of laughter. “No, they’re not. Those shoes make a statement.”

“I’m just a little nervous about what they’re saying.”

One perfectly groomed eyebrow went up. “What they’re saying is ‘Look at these legs,’ which is exactly what I want them to say and exactly want I want Channing Caulfield to do. While he’s distracted by you, I can get the answers I’m looking for.”

“That’s rather sexist, Liz,” Charlotte said.

Liz nodded. “Of course. It’s totally sexist. So is Channing Caulfield. That’s why it’s going to work.” She looked at Charlotte. “Don’t shake your head at me, Charlotte Elliot. You know I’m right.” She held her car keys out to me.

Charlotte tried to hide a smile but wasn’t quite successful.

“Mac and Rose will be back in a couple of hours. I’ll be back when Liz is finished dangling me in front of Mr. Caulfield like I’m a fly and he’s a trout.”

Liz laughed and put her arm around my shoulders. “Okay, Sarah,” she said. “Let’s go dangle you in the water and see what we can catch.”

I looked back over my shoulder and waved at Charlotte.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I slid behind the wheel of Liz’s car.

“The Hearthstone Inn.”

“Fancy.”

“It’s all about setting the right atmosphere,” she said, smoothing the skirt of her black suit over her knees.

“And what reason did you give Mr. Caulfield for inviting him to lunch?” I asked as I pulled onto the street.

“We’re both interested in the new development proposal for the harbor front. I’m thinking of investing some of the Emmerson Foundation’s portfolio and you’re thinking of moving your business.”

I shot a quick glance in her direction. “Will he buy that?”

Liz nodded. “Yes. Channing was—is—very good at his job. I’ve talked to him several times about investments over the years. He’s always given me excellent advice.”

I stopped at the corner, waited for traffic to pass and then turned left. “Is Rose right?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the road. “Is Mr. Caulfield interested in you?”

“How would I know that?” Liz retorted.

I stifled a smile. “So that would be yes.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Have you perchance been putting up with Mr. Channing’s ongoing interest in you because of his excellent advice?” I asked.

“Perchance?” Liz said, an edge of sarcasm in her voice.

“It’s a perfectly valid word.”

“If you’re Shakespeare.”

I sent another quick glance in her direction. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m not avoiding it. It was such a preposterous question I didn’t see the point in answering it.”

“So that would be another yes.”

There was silence for a moment; then Liz laughed. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Rose, missy,” she said.

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road. “Guilty as charged.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liz shift a little in her seat. “When I took over the Emmerson Foundation, do you know how much money was actually going to programs?” she asked.

We were almost at the inn. I slowed down and put on my blinker. “Since you’re asking the question, I’m guessing not enough.”

“Fifty-four percent.”

“Ouch.”

“Expenses were ridiculous, especially our investment costs,” she said. “I hired Channing to rebalance the foundation’s portfolio, and his guidance helped us get through downturns in the market. His expertise was worth every cent we paid him. And by the way, he donated half the money back to the foundation.”

I pulled in to the driveway of the Hearthstone Inn.

“Last year we spent eighty-eight percent of our funds on programming,” Liz continued. “Channing Caulfield had a lot to do with that. And just to be clear, I offered to pay for his time today. He turned me down. I’m sending him a box of his favorite cigars even though I think they smell like burning tires.”

I backed the car into a parking spot and turned to look at Liz. “Have I told you lately that I love you to pieces?”

She gave a dismissive wave with a manicured hand. “Everybody does,” she said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”