Софи Райан - The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle

“A fertility-goddess statue,” Rose repeated.

“Why are you carrying around a fertility-goddess statue?”

She looked at me like I was just a little bit dense. “Well, for Avery, of course.”

I sighed, figuring I was probably going to regret asking my next question. “Why does Avery need a fertility statue?” I knew I couldn’t think of any good reason. I unlocked the door, flipped on the light switch and let Rose and Elvis go ahead of me into the storage room.

“It’s for her history class,” Rose said over her shoulder as I hurried to catch up with her and Elvis. She moved surprisingly fast for a woman who was almost seventy-five.

I was already in deep so I decided to ask the next obvious question. “And why does Avery need a fertility statue for her history class?”

Rose bustled ahead of me into the store, stopping to turn on the overhead lights. I went across the room to switch on the tall floor lamp with the elegant cranberry glass shade that sat by the cash register. It cast a warm, rosy glow on that part of the store.

I set the bag down and Elvis started sniffing at it.

“Well, dear, it’s a little complicated,” Rose said as she unbuttoned her jacket. “Avery is studying religious artifacts and symbols in her history class, and you know how she likes to put her own stamp on things.”

I smiled. “Yes, I do.”

“She decided she wanted to write about fertility statues. The problem was, she’d never actually seen one.” Rose gestured at the bag by my feet. “So I brought mine for her to see.”

She came over to me, rummaged in the bag and pulled out what I was guessing was the statue, wrapped in a big blue bath towel. She unwrapped it and handed it to me. It was clearly the figure of a woman, robust, with heavy breasts, an ample belly and wide thighs. It stood about four inches high, and was carved from a single piece of rust-colored stone.

“It looks old,” I said, turning over the little figure in my hands. Its curves and edges had been worn smooth by time and weather.

“I think it is,” Rose agreed. “I found it in a little open-air market in Vienna twenty years ago. The man who sold it to me didn’t seem to know anything about its history.”

“You should get someone to look at this,” I said, handing the statue back to Rose. “It could be worth a lot of money.”

“Oh, heavens, I wouldn’t want to know that,” Rose said as she wrapped the towel around the stone figure. “I wouldn’t feel right putting her up on the window ledge by the sink if I knew she was worth money, but I’d miss seeing her when I’m doing the dishes.”

“All right,” I said as she settled the statue next to the box of tea bags, but I made a mental note to warn Avery to be careful.

I carried Rose’s bag upstairs to the lunchroom, put my things in my cubbyhole office and went back downstairs to open the shop while Rose made coffee and tea, supervised by Elvis.

When I finally got back upstairs there was a cup of tea and a piece of coffee cake waiting on my desk. I had a hard-shell case for Sam’s guitar, and I laid it inside.

I spent a good part of the morning working out what I could afford to pay for the items I wanted to buy from Mabel Harrington’s house. Mac looked over the numbers and made a couple of suggestions for changes.

At lunchtime I cleaned out the truck and went to pick up the new-to-me SUV. Just as I returned the woman came back for the old postmaster’s desk and Mac and I—with some help from Avery—padded and wrapped it and helped load it into the back of the pickup the woman was driving.

“Nice work,” I said to Mac as we passed the formerly olive green table on our way back into the shop.

He brushed off his hands and smiled. “Thanks. Do you think we can find some chairs to put with the table? I think it would sell better.”

“Do you want six of the same?” I asked, as we walked into the storage area. “There are those two with the back spindles—they haven’t been finished yet—and there are four more out back with just a plain back panel. What were you thinking of for a finish?”

“What do you think about a black semigloss?” he said, swiping a hand over his neck.

We walked into the shop, talking about the merits of black paint versus a dark stain. Charlotte was standing by the cash desk with Rose. I knew at once from their body language that something was wrong.

“Sarah,” she said when she caught sight of me.

“Excuse me a second,” I said quietly to Mac.

He nodded and I left him and walked over to Charlotte and Rose.

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

Charlotte shook her head and I could see the concern in the tight lines around her mouth. “No, everything most decidedly is not all right,” she said sharply, and I realized it wasn’t concern I saw on her face, it was anger. “The police have arrested Maddie. They say she killed Arthur Fenety.”

Chapter 8

I heard the words but for a moment they were only words, and then the meaning sank in. Arthur Fenety had been murdered, just as I’d suspected.

“I thought Arthur had a heart attack,” Rose said. “I can’t believe someone killed him. Could it be a mistake?”

I shook my head. I knew Nick wouldn’t make that kind of a mistake.

“Maddie didn’t kill Arthur, Sarah,” Charlotte said. “How could they arrest her? It’s ridiculous.”

I put a hand on her arm. “What happened, exactly?”

She was twisting her watch around and around her left wrist. “The bell rang. When I went to the door it was Michelle Andrews and another police officer. They asked to speak to Maddie. I took them into the living room. Michelle asked Maddie some questions and then she arrested her. They put handcuffs on her!” Anger flashed in her eyes. “She’s seventy-three years old. They didn’t need to do that.”

“Maddie will be fine,” Rose said. “She’s strong.” She flashed a look at Avery, who had been leaning on the counter, listening to everything, and the teen headed for the stairs.

“Does she have a lawyer?” Mac asked.

Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“She needs a lawyer, Sarah,” Mac said quietly.

“The Evans boy,” Rose said at once.

“Josh Evans?” I said. I held my hand out at my waist, palm down. “Little Josh is a lawyer?”

“He’s not little anymore, dear,” Rose said.

Mac had already moved behind the counter and pulled out the phone book. Avery was coming down the stairs, carrying a china cup and saucer.

“Charlotte, did you call Nick?” I asked, raking one hand back through my hair.

She nodded, one hand still twisting her watch. “All I got was his voice mail. Not that he can do anything, anyway. I just wanted to know what on earth was going on and why he hadn’t called me.”

It struck me that while we were standing there talking, Maddie was at the police station, probably without a lawyer. I felt certain she was hiding something, but I just couldn’t believe she had killed Arthur Fenety. Not deliberately.

“Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

Charlotte opened her mouth to say something else, but Rose didn’t give her a chance. “Let Sarah see what she can do to help,” she said, steering Charlotte in the direction of the tub chair.

Avery handed Charlotte the cup of tea she’d brought downstairs, and then she leaned against the bottom stair post.

Mac gestured at her. “Avery, go get a cup of tea for Rose, too, please.” She nodded and ran up the steps again.

I rubbed the space between my eyebrows with the heel of one hand. Then I checked the number Mac had looked up and reached for the phone, crossing my fingers—literally—that little Josh Evans would remember me.