Кэти Дэйли - The Secret Of Logan Pond

I opened the front door and headed toward the kitchen, Paisley followed along behind. She tossed her backpack on the table and then sat down at the kitchen table.

“Did you eat your lunch today?” I asked as I stood in front of the refrigerator.

“Part of it.”

“Which part?” I wondered.

“The milk and the apple. The rest was gross.”

“Okay, so how about I make you a ham sandwich on Gracie’s homemade wheat bread, and then if you eat all of that, you can have a cookie.”

“Okay,” Paisley grinned. “Mustard, but no mayonnaise.”

“You got it. Cheese?”

“Yes, please.”

I set the sandwich and a glass of milk on the table in front of the ten-year-old. She dug in as if she hadn’t eaten in a week, but since she’d been here for the cookout last night, I knew she’d not only eaten but had, in fact, eaten quite a lot. “You must have a hollow leg.”

She looked down at her leg. “That’s what Grandma says, but I promise that it’s regular, not wooden.”

“Saying someone has a hollow leg is just an expression that means they eat a lot.”

“Oh. Are there any more chocolate chip cookies left?”

I opened the cookie jar. “As a matter of fact, there are. With or without nuts?”

“With, please.”

After Paisley finished her snack, we went up to the attic for our lesson. It was a beautiful day, so I opened the window to let some fresh air in. As Paisley played the tunes she’d been rehearsing for me, I stood at the window and looked out. After my accident, I really hadn’t wanted to come back here, but how different my life would have been if I hadn’t. I’d enjoyed my life in the city and loved my career as a pianist, but now that I’d had a chance to spend some time in Foxtail Lake, I knew that it was this town and the people who lived in it that owned my soul.

I watched as Aunt Gracie pulled into the drive. She waved to me and then gathered her groceries and headed toward the kitchen door. She joined us in the attic a short while later.

“That’s really beautiful, Paisley,” she greeted. “When I pulled up and heard the music, I thought Callie had the stereo on.”

She grinned. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing. Someday I’m going to be as good as Callie.”

“I’m sure you are, sweet thing, I’m sure you are. Are you still going to stay for dinner?” Gracie asked. “I’m making spaghetti.”

“I love spaghetti.” She grinned.

Gracie turned toward me. “How about you? Will you be here?”

“I don’t have any other plans. I am going to call Cass later and check in. If he doesn’t have plans for dinner, I might invite him.”

“I have plenty of sauce. Just let me know if he’ll be here before I put the noodles on. That boy can eat almost as much as our Paisley.”

Paisley grinned when Gracie called her our Paisley. I think it gave her a sense of security to be considered part of our family. I hoped that spending time with us would help compensate for the fact that other than her grandmother, who tended to drift between feeling okay and not doing well at all, she really had no one.

“Should we invite your grandma to dinner?” Gracie asked Paisley.

She nodded. “She told me she’s having a good spell and feels more like her old self, and my grandmother loves your spaghetti. You should call her.”

“I will. When you finish up here, you can help me with the salad,” Gracie said to Paisley.

Again with the grin. I had to admit the little imp really had wormed her way into my heart. I enjoyed relationships with a lot of different people, but the bond I felt I was beginning to form with Paisley was different. At times, I wondered if this was what it felt like to be a mother. Not that I’d ever know the answer to that particular question, but I supposed what I had with Paisley was about as close to a mother/daughter relationship as I was ever likely to have.

“Do you want to learn a new song today?” I asked after Paisley returned to the songs I’d already taught her.

“I would.”

“It’s a duet, so I’ll teach you one half, and I’ll play the other half. It’s an intermediate level song, so we’ll really have to practice to get the timing right. Once the two parts become one, it’s truly magical.”

Chapter 9

Cass and I headed out to the front porch after dinner. We sat on the swing and gazed out over the lake. It was light later in the evening as we approached the summer solstice, so Paisley played with Milo on the lawn, while Paisley’s grandma sat with Gracie in the living room. Tom, sweet guy that he was, offered to tackle the dishes.

“So, how was your day?” I asked, finally merging into the conversation I’d been dying to have since he arrived.

“Challenging. I spoke to a lot of people who each had a different take on what had most likely led to Bobby’s death, but in the end, none of the leads panned out, so I feel like I’m right back where I started.”

“What sort of leads? Did you talk to Jimmy?”

He nodded. “Bobby was at the bar on the day he died. It was only midafternoon, but according to Alex and others who were there yesterday afternoon, he was already pretty drunk. Everyone agreed that Bobby got a call, after which he left. He appears to have gone straight home. It also appears that someone was waiting for him. Based on the entry point of the wound and the location and position of the body, it appears he was shot in the forehead as soon as he walked in the door.”

“So someone probably called and asked him to come home, where they were waiting to kill him.”

“That was my first guess, but I pulled the phone records, and the call he received right before he left the bar was from his ex-wife. I spoke to her, and she told me that a friend of hers, who was also at the bar that afternoon, told her that Bobby was there and that he’d been drinking and looking for a poker game. Tamara told me that Bobby was way behind on his child support and that she called and told him to go home before he lost any more of the money he owed her. I guess he did as she asked. Or at least it appears that way.”

“Okay, so someone was in the house when he arrived. You said it wasn’t Jimmy. Why do you think that?”

“For one thing, the house has stairs leading up to the front door and no handicap access. Additionally, Jimmy was at a friend’s home, enjoying a BBQ when Bobby was shot. I’ve spoken to the friend and was able to verify his alibi.”

“Okay, so if not Jimmy and not the ex, then who?”

“I actually ended up having dinner with Alex last night. I needed to talk to her anyway, and by the time I got around to her, she was off, so we decided to have the steak dinner I was missing out on here while we chatted. She seemed to think that if Bobby was shot over something he did, I should talk to Garth Woodward.”

“Who’s Garth Woodward?” I asked, trying to extinguish the surge of jealousy I was experiencing after learning that Cass and his totally gorgeous ex-girlfriend had had dinner together.

“Garth owns a hunting and fishing lodge about twenty minutes out of town. He caters to groups looking for a real backwoods experience, and he charges an arm and a leg to provide that experience. Garth offers bear hunting excursions, among other things, and Bobby had a problem with that. They’d exchanged words on several occasions, and Bobby was even involved with a group that’s trying to make bear hunts illegal in the state.”

“Good for Bobby,” I said, feeling slightly ill at the thought of hunting a bear.

“When the snow melted and access to his lodge was made possible via the gravel road, someone started vandalizing Garth’s place. Garth was sure it was Bobby and had threatened legal action if he didn’t cease and desist. I spoke to Bobby about the situation even though the lodge is outside my jurisdiction, and he swore to me that, while he would have broken windows and spray-painted threatening messages all over the exterior of the wooden lodge if he’d thought of it, he hadn’t thought of it and therefore hadn’t done it.”