Софи Райан - A Whisker Оf Trouble

“Sarah dear, just because he says he didn’t doesn’t mean he didn’t.” There was just a hint of condescension in Rose’s voice, as if she were talking to a five-year-old.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mac’s lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

“I know,” I said. I turned my attention to Liz. “Did you notice how he went out of his way to avoid shaking hands with either one of us?”

Liz frowned. “You’re right,” she said slowly.

I held up one hand. “His finger joints were very swollen,” I said, tapping on the second knuckle of my index finger. “I’m pretty sure he has arthritis in his hands. There’s no way Channing Caulfield would be able to grip and lift the heavy wine bottle that was used to kill Quinn, let alone swing it.”

“So we’re back at square one,” Rose said with a sigh. Mac held the door open and I let her go ahead of me.

“Not entirely,” I said.

She set Elvis down on the floor. He shook himself and headed for the store. Rose looked at me, her head cocked to one side.

“Liz was right,” I said.

“Well, of course I was,” Liz said.

I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “Don’t push it,” I said. “She did manage to create a bit of a rapport between Channing Caulfield and me. When she was away from the table, he told me that he thought he knew how Edison first got the idea to start collecting rare vintages of wine.” I told her what Caulfield had told me about the money management seminar.

“I remember when they had those seminars at Shady Pines,” Rose said. “I knew they were just a bunch of hooey.”

“You know people at Legacy Place ,” I said, stressing the proper name of the seniors’ complex where Rose had lived until she’d been evicted, basically for her attitude. “See what you can find out.”

Rose beamed at me. “That’s an excellent idea,” she said. She reached over and squeezed my cheeks between her two hands. “I’m so glad you went to lunch with Channing.” She headed for the shop.

Liz looked from Mac to me. “I was there, too,” she said.

Rose was already halfway across the room.

I leaned over and kissed Liz’s cheek. “Superheroes are never appreciated by the masses, Xena,” I said.

She laughed. “You’re an irritating child sometimes, but I love you,” she said.

I grinned at her. “Everybody does,” I said.

Chapter 13

I went upstairs and changed out of my dress and heels, dropping down onto the love seat to rub my aching feet before I put my Keds back on. I had no idea how Liz managed to walk around all day in spike heels.

When I went back downstairs, Avery was at the cash desk with one customer and Rose was showing a bed frame to two others. Mac walked over to me.

“Things look pretty much under control in here,” I said to Mac.

He nodded. “Avery did a good job under the stairs—no more marauding dust bunnies.”

I nodded solemnly. “Those critters can be very sneaky.”

“She updated the list and put a copy on the door and another copy over by the cash.”

I glanced across the room where it looked as though Avery was showing her customer the various bracelets that snaked their way up her left arm. “She’s the only teenager I’ve ever met who actually likes doing that kind of thing.”

Mac passed a hand back over his close-cropped black hair. “What do you think about getting her to do an up-to-date inventory when we finally get the old garage into a workable space?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said.

“If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going out to get the old chandelier from Doran’s and put it in the workroom.”

“Need any help?” I asked.

“You could come hold the door for me,” Mac said.

I smiled. “Sure.”

We started for the workroom. “Where’s Charlotte?” I asked.

“Talking to someone who was at that financial planning seminar. Someone she used to teach with, I think.”

“Do you think Caulfield is right?” I asked. “You think it’s possible that was where the whole wine thing began for Edison?”

“It’s possible,” he said. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before.” He held up a hand. “Not wine collecting, but other sorts of scams—rare coins, vacation properties in Florida. All the con needs is for one person to take the bait.”

“Why does someone ‘take the bait’?”

He shrugged. “My experience is pretty limited in this kind of thing, but I can tell you it’s usually not greed that motivates. I think, as crazy as it sounds, it’s the same kind of thing as making a wish when you blow out the candles on a birthday cake. It’s hoping for something more.”

“Do you think maybe Edison wanted to leave something more for Ethan?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“Which made him the perfect target for anyone looking to run a con.”

Mac nodded. “Pretty much. And it may not have happened at that financial seminar. The reality is, Edison Hall could have been scammed in a dozen or more ways.” He held the back door and I stepped out into the parking lot. Clouds were rolling in from the water.

“Including Feast in the Field?” I asked. “Rose thinks it’s possible.”

“You did notice that brochure about Feast in the Field smelled like tuna, didn’t you?” he said.

“I did,” I said. “I don’t think it’s important, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder about that money management seminar. According to Mr. Caulfield, Edison would have received an invitation. Maybe Charlotte will come up with something.”

Mac pulled his keys out of his pocket. “So you don’t think Elvis looked at that brochure and thought, Hey, a clue? He is a pretty smart cat.”

I shook my head. “I feel pretty confident that the only thing he was thinking about was lunch.”

We had a wheeled dolly that we used to move anything large or awkward from the old garage to the workroom in the shop. I helped Mac get the brass and glass light fixture settled on it. As he maneuvered the dolly into the workroom, Charlotte came out of the Angels’ office, a look of satisfaction on her face.

“Sarah, is it all right with you if Rose works the rest of my shift?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”

“I talked to three different people who were at that first financial seminar. They all remember a woman who said she lived in Rockport, talking about the unpredictability of the stock market and how much better tangible things were as an investment.”

“Interesting,” I said.

She nodded. “Maribelle Hearndon just called me back. She knows someone who knows someone—you know how those things work—and I have a name and an address for the woman. Liz and I are going to see her.”

“Good luck,” I said.

Mr. P. arrived about twenty minutes after Liz and Charlotte had left.

“Did you walk up the hill?” I asked. “I could have come and picked you up.”

“Oh, thank you, Sarah,” he said, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head. “I’ve walked that hill many times. It doesn’t bother me, but I actually got a ride from your brother.” He inclined his head in the direction of the old garage. “He’s outside talking to Mac.”

I took a couple of steps backward and looked out into the parking lot. Liam was standing beside his half-ton truck deep in conversation with Mac.

“Rose is in the shop,” I said to Mr. P. “And I think there’s tea upstairs.”

He reached over and patted my arm. “Thank you, dear,” he said.

They all did that, I realized—patted my arm, smiled sweetly at me and called me “dear.” For all that I worried about them and tried to keep them from getting in too much trouble, I had the feeling, sometimes, that they were just humoring me.