by Sonia Parin
Abby lifted the cup to her lips. Sighing, she remembered she’d been drinking tea. “Have you guys come across any new information?” she asked Mitch.
“Markus and I have been making discreet inquiries but, so far, we haven’t heard a peep. I recognize everyone who comes into the bar. The last time we had new faces…” he drummed his fingers on the table. “We had a tourist bus stop for lunch. They were on a day trip to Bright so that would have been before winter.”
“What about recent arrivals? Has anyone, other than me, come to live in town in the last two years?” Kinsley’s inheritance had to be a key element. Sam Peters had shown up at about that time. Maybe other people had too and no one had noticed.
“Maybe you need to narrow it down to the last two months,” Faith suggested. “That’s when Sam made his move. If the killer had some connection to the circus, then we can assume news about Sam’s move would have reached someone eventually. Remember, the ex-circus employees are most likely scattered around the country.”
“True.” Abby would bet anything Frankie Short had been lured here for a reason other than wanting to catch up with an old friend. “Now if only we could find another dot to connect that to. What would draw more than one person to Kinsley’s house apart from money?”
“Have you actually given up on a relative being responsible?” Faith asked and smacked her hand against her cheek. “That reminds me, I need to do a search for Warren Kinsley’s family tree. I guess I got sidetracked. Is there such a thing as caffeine patches? If there isn’t, there should be.” She looked out the window and narrowed her eyes. “Hey, is that Frankie Short crossing the street?”
Mitch laughed. “You two need to install a time delay. My head is spinning.”
“Too much information for this time of morning?” Abby leaned in and looked out the window and confirmed, “Yes, that’s Frankie Short. I wonder where she’s going?”
“Only one way to find out.” Faith jumped to her feet and rushed out of the pub.
“She’s game,” Mitch said.
“I’m sure she’ll keep a safe distance.” Abby worried her bottom lip. Frankie Short strode right past the Gazette and appeared to be headed around the corner. Most people she’d seen walking by had stopped to read the ‘Closed for Fumigation’ sign they’d posted on the door. Not Frankie Short. She appeared to be on a mission. “By the way, when were you going to tell me she’s staying at the pub?”
“Relax. I put her in the corner room far away from your apartment.” Mitch leaned in. “And there’s a police officer in the room next to her.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
Joshua had taken precautions after he’d said he trusted his gut instinct? Abby peered out the window. “So, shouldn’t that police officer be following Frankie Short?”
“Nope. He’s here to make sure she doesn’t try anything funny at the pub. It’s all for Kinsley’s benefit.” Mitch grinned. “And yours, I’m sure.”
“Joshua told you all that?”
Mitch nodded. “He felt we needed to be in the know.”
“And he left me out of the loop?”
“I just told you about it? Although, he made me promise not to tell you. Joshua didn’t want you to feel a false sense of security.”
Abby shook her head. “Male reasoning at its best.”
Mitch signaled to the window. “Here she comes.”
Moments later, Faith burst back inside the pub. As they waited for her to catch her breath, they tried to make sense of her hand gestures.
“Why is she pulling her hair?” Mitch sat up. “Wait. I know. She had a run in with Joyce and got into a cat fight.”
Faith covered her eyes and then put her arms out and tilted from side to side.
“Windmill?” Mitch asked.
Faith shook her head and continued tilting from side to side.
Rolling her eyes, Abby said, “Take your time. Catch your breath.”
“Lawyer,” Faith finally pushed the word out and gulped in a big breath. She covered her eyes again and then stretched her arms out. “Blind justice?”
“Oh. I see.”
“Remind me never to team up with you for Charades.” Faith emptied half a glass of water. “Frankie Short went into the lawyer’s office.”
“Is that good or bad?” Mitch asked.
“Maybe she wants to get legal counsel.” Abby checked her cell phone. “Nothing from Joshua. If there’s been any new developments and he hasn’t told me, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. Are you sure she went into the lawyer’s office?”
“Positive. I saw her checking a piece of paper so I’m guessing she’s never been there before and wanted to get the address right.”
“You’ll have to use your powers of persuasion to get information out of the lawyer’s receptionist,” Abby said. “We need to know what Frankie is up to.” Abby looked around. Catching sight of Markus, she ordered a cup of coffee. “Make it a double, please.”
“A double cup of disappointment,” Faith murmured under her breath. She turned to Mitch. “You get your coffee beans from Joyce. Why doesn’t it taste the same?”
“Maybe because it’s all in your mind,” Mitch said. “Have you tried switching over to positive thinking? Tell yourself this is the best coffee you’ve ever enjoyed.”
Faith’s bottom lip poked out.
“I think you’re about to reduce Faith to tears.” Abby patted her hand. “There, there. It will all be over soon.”
Faith looked around the dining room. “Where’s Kinsley? And… Has she been fed?”
“She’s safe, upstairs.” Abby said. “And, yes, she’s been fed. Perhaps we should take this upstairs. I’m sure she’s eager for news. Not that I have any.”
“If I’d been more curious about my inheritance, maybe if I’d asked more questions, Sam wouldn’t be dead now…”
“Kinsley, none of this is your fault.” Abby refrained from making any negative remarks about Sam Peters. He’d been killed for a reason. What were the odds he’d only been an innocent bystander?
Kinsley walked around in a tight circle. “Sorry, I’m restless. This is the most time I’ve spent in the one place. I think I’m suffering from a bout of cabin fever. I’m usually patient. Heavens, I’ve waited hours to capture the right light for my photos…”
Abby didn’t blame her. In her place, she’d be going stir crazy.
Faith stretched and yawned. “I’m getting nowhere with your family tree. Anyone would think your parents had sprung from out of nowhere. There’s simply no mention of them anywhere online.”
“I think someone has to take the first step and request a family tree,” Abby said. “They don’t sprout by themselves.” Abby went to sit next to Faith. “Did you try the births and deaths registry?”
“I’m doing that now, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. Restrictions apply. Birth and change of name records are restricted from public access for 100 years and until the person has passed away. Marriage records are restricted from public access for 60 years and until both parties to the marriage have passed away. Death records are restricted from public access for 10 years.”
Abby remembered to blink. “Um. Is there any way of accessing the information?”
Faith tapped on the screen. “Well, you can apply to the Registrar.”
“And?”
“The Registrar may reject an application for access to the record if the applicant does not meet the requirements of the Access policy.”
Abby’s eyebrows curved upward. “Is there a ‘yes, but…’ coming up?”
“Oh, yes. Of course, there is. Kinsley could give me permission to apply for the information. But she would have to provide certain documents to verify her identity. Or, she could apply herself, but she would still have to provide proof of her identity.” Faith held up a finger. “I guess I should have started with that. Then again, the police would have an easier time of it. I’ll call Joshu
a. And maybe I should have started with that but he’s been grumbling about being short-staffed.”
Seeing Doyle sauntering toward her, Abby patted the couch. “Come on up, Doyle. I need some sort of distraction. You’ve been sleeping most of the morning. How about a walk?”
After a few moments of silence, Faith laughed. “I swear, I always feel you’re actually waiting for him to answer you.”
“He does.” Abby gave Doyle a scratch behind the ear. “Obviously, not with words. See, he’s wagging his tail.”
“That’s because he’s happy to hear you say you don’t expect him to talk. In his place, I’d be worried if you thought he could talk.”
“Never say never. For all we know, animals are only waiting for us humans to wake up and realize we can… I don’t know, tap into their thoughts.”
Kinsley sank down in a chair only to spring back up again. “I don’t think I can take another day of being locked up.”
Abby exchanged a look with Faith and said, “You can’t go out there. You’d be risking life and limb.”
“I’ve been thinking… No one really knows me. I’ve been coming to town for a couple of years and, in all that time, I doubt anyone has looked at me twice.” She gave a firm nod. “I’m going for a walk down the street.”
Abby surged to her feet, Doyle in her arms. “Two years ago.” Then she fell silent and stared into space.
“Um, Abby?” Faith shifted to the edge of the couch and then rose to her feet. “Did your mind stall? Do you need me to nudge you?”
Abby swung toward her and gaped. “Sam Peters.”
“Yes, he’s dead,” Faith said.
Abby swung toward Kinsley. “I had to drive around for a couple of hours and I was lucky to stumble on your house.” Had Sam spent the last couple of years trying to find out the identity of the heiress and when he finally did, did he follow her to the house? “You said it yourself, no one knows you. Even if Sam had been a drifter looking for a job, there’s no way he just happened to find your place by accident. He knew exactly where to go.” But how?
Chapter Ten
After meditating for half an hour, Abby emerged from her bedroom.
“Feeling better?” Faith asked.
“I am serenity personified and ready to tackle anything thrown my way.” Abby grinned. “Have you made any headway?”
Faith tapped her pencil against a piece of paper. “Laura says Frankie Short came in for a brief consultation. She rang as soon as the office opened to make an appointment.”
“Laura?”
“That’s Lawrence McAvoy’s receptionist. The lawyer. Remember him? You met him yesterday, or the day before. I’m not sure. The days are all blending in.”
“Okay. We’re on the same page.” Abby supposed it made sense to consult a lawyer. Frankie Short might be trying to find a way out of paying her parking fines.
“I asked if Lawrence McAvoy had taken her on as a client and the receptionist said it was unlikely since she hadn’t been asked to draw up any documents. That’s as much as she’d been prepared to share with me and only because we went to school together. She has this whole confidentiality thing happening.”
“That usually goes hand in hand with having a real job,” Abby mused.
Laughing under her breath, Faith asked, “Do we have such protocols in place? I’d hate to think I’ve breached some unspoken rule.”
“Rest assured, if I want you to keep something between us, I’ll be specific.” Abby strolled around her apartment, the tip of her finger coming close to being chewed raw. So much for meditating…
The thoughts she’d been entertaining earlier on returned and hollered for attention. “I’m thinking if one person found out about the house and about Kinsley inheriting, then there might be more. Hence, the killer. I think that’s where we were before I had my brain freeze.” Seeing Faith frown, Abby smiled. “Bear with me. I’m sure I’ll make sense. Anyhow, let’s hope Joshua comes through with more information. If Warren had any family, he might have cut them out of the will and that would give them reason to be disgruntled.”
Faith pointed to the wall. “It’s been annotated.”
“Good. So, while we wait to see if we can get information about Warren Kinsley’s family, we can focus on the circus folk.”
“If Warren Kinsley had other family, why would they wait so long to act?” Kinsley asked.
Because they might not be legitimate, Abby thought. Drawing up a family tree would take time. Finding out about everyone connected to Warren Kinsley would be near impossible since they’d also have to take into account illegitimate offspring. “Maybe they didn’t know about the house or you. Lawrence McAvoy said no one had contested the will. Remember, it’s already been two years. Who knows, they might have thought they didn’t have a leg to stand on or they might not be the type to rely on proper channels. Anyway, we already have a suspicious character connected to Sam Peters, someone who also happened to work for the circus.” She hoped chasing up unpaid traffic violations and putting a clamp on her wheel meant Joshua still wanted to look into Frankie Short’s background. “Thanks to Kinsley’s research online, we managed to connect Frankie Short to the circus. We should try to put names to faces. If we look through that video again, we might see someone we can connect to someone we’ve seen lurking around town.”
“Haven’t we already decided we haven’t seen anyone new in town?” Faith asked.
“Okay. Go ahead and say it. We’ve hit a dead end.”
“Only because we’re restricted by our lack of resources.” Faith shrugged. “But we’ve done quite well. So far, you’ve managed to provide Joshua with quite a few leads. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m sure he’ll express his gratitude for your input by giving you free access to his crime scenes.”
Abby sighed. “So much for living in a small town where nothing ever happens.”
Giving her a wide grin, Faith said, “Yep, that ship sailed when you found your first murder victim. Since arriving here, you’ve made our lives far more interesting, Abby Maguire.”
Abby spread her arms out. “And I’ve yet to report on the weekend’s bake sale.”
“The next one is coming up soon.” Faith nibbled her bottom lip. “Maybe you should stay away.”
Abby toyed with the idea of a treasure. Rumor about Sam Peter’s death might already be spreading, reminding some people about the stories that might have been circulating at the circus. What if Warren Kinsley had been squirreling away his money? What if that set everyone off on a treasure hunt? What if they descended upon their little town?
Faith gave a firm nod. “Someone is going to have to put their big girl shoes on and have a chat with Joyce. The café and the pub are the two places newcomers are likely to visit. You should try to recruit Joyce. It might take her mind off the Eden Bloggess.”
Kinsley jumped to her feet and disappeared into the adjoining room. Moments later, she reappeared wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. “No one will recognize me. I’m going out.”
Abby’s heart thumped all the way up to her throat. She looked at Faith and they engaged in a wordless conversation which involved a great deal of eyebrow movements and wide-eyed expressions. Both appeared to reach a silent agreement at the same time and rushed to the door, grabbing Kinsley before she could step outside.
“As much as I’m enjoying the pub’s hospitality, I need to go out and… and do something or this will drive me batty.”
“Do something? Are you thinking about using yourself as bait?” Abby had been down that road and she’d never recommend it. “If you are, let me tell you it’s a bad idea to do it without backup. How about we sit down and draw up a plan of action.” Smiling, she tried to coax Kinsley back but she refused to budge. “Trust me, if you act rashly, you’ll live to regret it and… I’m responsible for you. I promised Joshua I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Faith asked. “I’m afraid we might be fools rushin
g in where angels fear to tread.”
While Abby agreed she knew she’d taken as many precautions as she could think of. She glanced over her shoulder. “You can come out now. We’re in the open road and there’s no traffic. No one will see you.”
Kinsley emerged from the back seat and sneezed. “I think throwing the blanket over me was overkill. I might be allergic to dog hair. And… how is this different from being locked up in your apartment? I said I needed to stretch my legs.”
“And you will,” Abby assured her.
“Hang on. I recognize this stretch of road. We’re going to my house.”
Faith nodded. “I think Abby feels disaster won’t strike twice or maybe she wants to tempt fate.”
Abby shifted in her seat. “I’ve played it safe and borrowed Mitch’s pick-up truck. No one’s following us.” And yet Doyle had curled up into a tight ball. Abby hoped that didn’t mean he could sense something about to happen. She’d sent Joshua a text message letting him know of their plans to snoop around the house. The fact he hadn’t answered could mean anything.
Without slowing down, Abby swerved into the dirt road and stopped. Turning in her seat, she looked toward the road she’d left behind to make sure no one had followed them. “See, I’m being cautious.” She continued on her way. “Frankie Short’s truck is out of action and she’s the only person who would want to follow us.”
Faith mumbled something under her breath.
