Софи Райан - A Whisker Оf Trouble

“Alfred will go to the seminar. He’ll talk a bit about his desire to leave something to his son—and what a nice young man he is. That woman who reels in the rubes will end up hooked herself, and that will lead us to Mr. Thorne Logan.”

“And what are you going to do when you find Mr. Logan?” I asked. There was a small murp of dissatisfaction from my furry backseat driver. I flicked on the wipers to clear the mist from the windshield.

“Call Detective Andrews,” Rose said.

I shot a quick look in her direction.

“You didn’t expect I’d say that, did you?” she said tartly.

This time I did laugh. “No, I did not.”

Her expression grew serious. “We’re not stupid. If this man had anything to do with Mr. Quinn’s murder, the police should be involved.”

I reached back with my right hand and gave her arm a squeeze. “You never cease to amaze me, Rose Jackson,” I said.

I pulled in to the parking lot at the store and parked closer to the back door than I usually would in case it was raining later. The lights were on in the workroom, but there was no sign of Mac. I could smell coffee, though, which was a good sign.

“Alfred should be here in about half an hour,” Rose said, stepping out of her boots and pulling a pair of shoes out of her tote bag. “And Liz will be stopping in. We have to decide on the best look for Alfred. I don’t want him to turn it on too much. And he needs to look a little down on his luck.”

“So that’s going to be your approach?” I asked.

Rose patted her hair into place. “Hardworking father looking to leave an inheritance to his deserving son and grandchildren.”

“Alfred can pull that off,” I said. Then I remembered what she’d said in the car about Alfred’s so-called son. “We’ll have set up what a nice young man he is.” “But how exactly are you going to ‘set up’ what a nice young man his imaginary son is?”

With the perverse perfect sense of timing the universe sometimes has, Liam came strolling in carrying a mug of coffee. The ends of his hair were damp, but he hadn’t shaved. He was wearing jeans, a plaid work shirt, work boots and a big gooney grin. He held out both arms and bowed. “Alfred Peterson Junior, at your service.”

I turned and looked at Rose. “You’re kidding me, right?”

She shook her head. “No. For this to work we need the patsy to buy into Alfred’s character. We need her to see him with his hardworking son.”

Liam smirked at me and took a sip of his coffee.

“This will not work!” I said emphatically. Rose had been watching too many old movies again.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, baby sister,” Liam said. He was still grinning. He wasn’t taking this seriously enough. I was sure he wasn’t taking it seriously at all.

I folded my arms over my chest. “Liam, you have the acting skills of an iguana.” I looked at Rose. “When he was seventeen he was late getting home from a date and he told Mom and Dad that the road was blocked by an elephant.”

Liam pointed a finger at me. “That story is not as stupid as it sounds. The circus was in town. I could have been held up by an elephant.”

I shook my head, laughing too hard to speak.

Behind us someone tapped on the door. It was Mr. P. engulfed in a black-hooded raincoat. Rose turned to open the door. As she did she nudged me with her elbow. “Don’t worry, Sarah. Liam doesn’t have to say a word. All he has to do is look adorable, and he can do that in spades.”

I sighed and walked over to Liam. “What are you doing?” I asked. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No more than you,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. I reached over and took his cup from his hand, turned it around so I could drink from the other side and took a sip. Then I gave it back.

“C’mon, Sarah,” he said, wiping the edge of his mug where I’d drunk with his sleeve. “You’ve been involved in all this private detective stuff from the beginning and don’t say you haven’t, because I’ve been talking to Nick.”

“Nick’s biased,” I muttered.

Liam laughed. “When it comes to you, oh yeah. But that has nothing to do with this.” He gestured toward the door where Rose was peering into the huge duffel bag Mr. P. had brought with him. “They’re like Gram. They’re going to do this no matter what you or anyone else says. At least if I’m part of things I can hopefully keep it all from going south.”

I laughed then.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I thought that. I thought I could keep them out of trouble, on the straight and narrow as Dad would say.” I leaned against him. “It’s not going to happen, big brother.”

Liam wasn’t the least bit bothered by my words. “We’ll see,” he said. “And for the record, that elephant story would have worked if you hadn’t pointed out that the circus was an animal-free circus.”

I kissed his cheek and straightened up. “I’ll be in my office if you need me,” I said.

Elvis had disappeared who knew where. I went upstairs, dumped my things on the love seat and went for a cup of coffee. Based on the morning so far, I was going to need more than one cup.

Mac was in the tiny staff room. He reached for the largest mug on the shelf and handed it to me without saying a word. I poured a cup, added cream and sugar and took a long drink.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile.

“Easy for you to say,” I said.

“You’ve been talking to Liam.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “And Rose. You know what they have planned?”

He nodded.

I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t.

“I worry about them, Mac,” I said. “This guy, Thorne Logan, he could be a killer. At best he’s most likely a con artist and Rose is trying to outcon him.”

“Which is why it won’t hurt to have your brother lurking in the background,” he said. “I would have volunteered, but compared to Alfred”—he stuck out an arm, the sleeve pushed back to expose the smooth brown skin of his forearm—“I’m a tad toasty.”

“I’m overreacting.”

Mac shook his head. “No. You care about them.”

I brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face. “Rose did say if they find Mr. Logan she’ll call Michelle.”

“You don’t believe her.”

I shrugged. “I want to, but it’s just that Rose could do a much better job of selling an elephant blocking the road than my brother.”

Mac smiled. “I’m just going to pretend that made sense and go open up.”

Liz arrived about nine thirty and she and Rose outfitted Mr. P. in a pair of brown polyester pants with a green-and-brown-plaid shirt.

“Remember, you just want to leave something for your family,” Liz cautioned.

“Alfred knows how to get into character,” Charlotte chided gently.

Rose was nothing if not resourceful. She’d rented an old pickup from Cleveland. The trash picker’s unofficial motto was Anything for a Buck , so he’d been happy to help.

The plan was for Liam to drive the old truck and drop Mr. P. off at the seminar, making sure to be seen, if not by the mystery woman, then at least by other people.

“She might not be the only plant,” Rose said.

“Someone’s been watching late-night TV again,” Liz whispered to me.

Rose and Liz would follow in Liz’s car, staying out of sight in case there was anyone at the seminar who recognized them.

Mr. P. was fastening a small pin shaped like a beaver to the collar of his shirt. He twisted it so the beaver was standing on all fours and then turned and clicked several keys on his laptop. An image of the back wall of the porch filled the screen.

“What is that?” I asked.