A Wrinkle in Thyme

by Sarah Fox

  “Everything’s fine. There’s something I want to talk to you about, but it’s nothing bad.”

  We finished cleaning up and then sat at a table by the window, Leigh with a cup of coffee in front of her.

  “I’m dying of suspense here, Marley,” she said before taking a drink.

  “Sorry. Like I said before, it’s nothing bad. I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking about the future.”

  Despite my previous assurances, an expression of alarm crossed Leigh’s face. “Are you selling The Flip Side?” she asked with dismay.

  “No, no,” I rushed to say. “Not at all. I love this place.”

  Leigh relaxed. “Good.”

  “What I mean is, Brett and I are hoping to start a family soon.”

  A smile spread across Leigh’s face. “That’s fantastic!”

  “I’m excited but nervous,” I admitted.

  She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “That’s totally normal. I think most people are nervous when they’re about to become parents for the first time. But you and Brett will do great, and if you ever need any advice, give me a call.”

  With three daughters, Leigh had plenty of experience with children.

  “Thank you,” I said with a smile. “I’ll most likely take you up on that.” I tried to get back on track. “Anyway, before Brett and I have kids, I want to make sure that I have more flexibility with my schedule.”

  Leigh nodded with understanding. “That’s a good idea.”

  “Which brings me to what I wanted to talk about. It’s absolutely okay for you to say no, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in a promotion to the position of assistant manager.”

  She stared at me, holding her coffee mug an inch off the table. She set it back down with a thud. “Seriously?”

  “You’ve worked here for years. Far longer than I’ve been around. You’re reliable, trustworthy, and I know you’ve got what it takes to handle a bigger role here. But like I said, I don’t want you to feel any pressure to accept. Your current job is still yours. No matter what.”

  “Wow.” As some of Leigh’s shock ebbed away, her smile returned. “Thank you, Marley. I appreciate your confidence in me. Can I take some time to think about it and talk it over with my husband?”

  “Of course. There’s no need to rush into a decision.”

  “I won’t keep you waiting too long,” she promised.

  We spent a few more minutes going over the pay raise and the responsibilities that would come with the promotion if she chose to accept it. She gave me a hug before leaving, and I was pleased by her reaction to my offer. She clearly wasn’t horrified by the thought of taking on more duties, so that was promising. If she ended up turning down the offer, I’d have to come up with another solution, but I wouldn’t hold it against her in the least.

  Satisfied with how that meeting had gone, I shifted my focus to the next ones I had scheduled. I had two interviews set up for the middle of the afternoon, and I looked forward to meeting the job applicants. With any luck, it would only be a week or two before I had all of The Flip Side’s staffing issues taken care of, so I could focus on my future with Brett.

  * * * *

  I arrived home that evening to find Ray and my father-in-law helping Brett with the façades for Wild West Days. Bentley was lying in the grass, watching the men work, but he charged across the yard to greet me as soon as he spotted me on the beach. The saloon was all finished and looked fantastic. Now work had started on the general store and the sheriff’s office. Other volunteers would take care of the remainder of the façades, which would include a music hall, a post office, a hotel, and a blacksmith’s shop.

  During the event, volunteers like Gary and Ed would dress up in period costume and stay in character while interacting with the crowd. I could already tell that the old town would look great, and I was sure everyone who attended Wild West Days would have a blast.

  As soon as Brett saw me, he broke away from the others and greeted me with a kiss.

  “How did the interviews go?” he asked.

  “Not very well,” I said, the disappointment still weighing heavily on me.

  “What happened?”

  “One applicant had a major attitude problem,” I said. That interview had been painful. I didn’t know why the young man had even applied for the job. He’d made it clear right from the start that he thought the position was beneath him. “The other showed up twenty minutes late, didn’t bother to apologize, and then interrupted me every time I tried to speak.”

  Brett winced. “Okay, so they definitely weren’t the right candidates.”

  “I’ll say.”

  He kissed me again. “Don’t worry. You’ll find the right people.”

  “I hope so.” At the moment, I wasn’t feeling overly optimistic.

  “You will,” Brett said without a shred of doubt. “What about Leigh? Did you offer her the promotion?”

  I brightened as I remembered that meeting. “I did, and she seems open to the idea. She’s going to think about things and talk it over with Greg. I’m hopeful she’ll say yes.”

  “I’m glad that part went well.”

  I took his hand as we walked toward the others. I called out greetings to Frank and Ray before asking Brett, “How are things going here?”

  “We’re making progress.” Brett grinned at me. “I’m sure you’re eager to talk to Ray.”

  “I don’t have to corner him right away.”

  “Will you really be able to think about anything else until you do?” Brett asked.

  I laughed. “You know me too well.”

  “Better than I know myself.” He gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go.

  I admired the general store façade that my father-in-law was working on, but then I approached Ray. He was painting the sheriff’s office.

  “New digs?” I asked as he added paint to his brush.

  Ray stepped back to check his work. “I think I’ll stick with my current office. It has heat and air conditioning.” He glanced my way. “And before you ask, Frankie Zhou has an alibi for the hit-and-run.”

  “I know,” I said before I could think better of it.

  He looked skyward. “Of course you do.”

  I was about to speak again when he held up a hand.

  “We haven’t identified the driver, and you know I can’t discuss ongoing investigations.”

  “I wasn’t going to ask about your investigations,” I said.

  “No?”

  I couldn’t blame him for his skepticism.

  “I want to,” I admitted, “but I’m not going to. I do have something I want to tell you, though.”

  “Here we go.”

  I was relieved to hear a hint of good humor beneath his words. He’d lectured me more than once about staying out of his murder investigations, and I knew he wasn’t about to change his opinion that I should leave all investigating to the professionals, but at least he wasn’t mad at me.

  I told him everything I knew about Adya, including my encounter with her at the museum.

  Ray rubbed the back of his neck as he listened carefully.

  “She didn’t have permission to be in the museum?” he asked when I’d finished speaking.

  “Not from Winnifred, and she’s the one in charge at the moment.”

  He nodded, his expression giving nothing away. “Thank you for telling me.”

  As much as I wanted to know what he thought about the information, I knew he wouldn’t share that with me. He surprised me with his next words, however.

  “There is one thing I can tell you.”

  “What’s that?” I asked with interest.

  “I know you were worried about the way Angus Achenbach confronted Jane at the museum when you and Frankie were there,” Ray said. “
But, as much as he blamed Jane for the fact that he didn’t inherit the Victorian, he’s not the killer.”

  “How did you rule him out?”

  “He was arrested for driving under the influence that evening and spent the night in a holding cell.”

  “I guess it’s hard to get a more solid alibi than that.”

  Ray nodded as he got back to painting. “Iron-clad.”

  “What about Dean?” I asked. “Is he still a suspect?”

  “We’re looking into him.”

  I could tell he wasn’t about to share anything more.

  “Thank you for letting me know about Angus,” I said.

  At least I now had one less suspect to worry about.

  I spent the next hour helping out and trying my best not to think too hard about Wildwood Cove’s unsolved mysteries.

  * * * *

  By the time dusk had fallen, Brett and I were heading into town. The pieces for the saloon’s façade were in the back of Brett’s truck. We were transporting them to the community center, where they’d be stored until it was time to set up for Wild West Days in the park. The paint wasn’t yet dry on the sheriff’s office and the general store, so those façades would be brought over another day.

  A man from the event’s organizing committee met us at the center and helped move the pieces into the basement. Once that was done, Brett and I climbed into his truck again. I checked my text messages as Brett drove us away from the community center, and I tapped out a quick reply to one my mom had sent me earlier. After tucking my phone away in my bag, I sat back and watched the passing scenery.

  The streetlights came on, and the windows in the houses that lined the street glowed with warm yellow light.

  I sat up straighter as we passed Dolly’s house. “Hold on. Can you pull over for a minute?”

  “What’s up?” Brett asked as he steered the truck into a free spot by the curb.

  We’d stopped a couple of houses past Dolly’s. I undid my seatbelt and shifted around so I could see back up the street.

  “Remember how I told you about visiting Winnifred’s cousin the other day?” I said.

  “Sure.”

  I pointed. “That’s her house back there. The front door is standing open.”

  Brett took a look for himself. “Maybe she wanted some fresh air?”

  “Except it’s not very warm anymore.”

  The temperature had dropped as the sun disappeared from the sky.

  Brett offered up another possibility. “Maybe a neighbor stopped in to visit for a minute?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you want to go check to make sure?” Brett asked.

  “I’ll worry if I don’t.” I unbuckled my seatbelt. “She’s elderly, and I’m pretty sure she lives alone. It’ll just take me a minute.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  I hopped out of the truck, and Brett joined me on the sidewalk. I kept expecting a neighbor or other visitor to appear in the doorway, but nobody did. Lights were on in the house, and some of the glow spilled out onto the front porch, but with the living room curtains drawn, I couldn’t tell if anyone was moving about inside.

  A trickle of unease worked its way down my spine as we jogged up the front steps.

  “Dolly?” I called out from the porch. “It’s Marley Collins. Are you all right?”

  Nobody responded, and I couldn’t hear any noise coming from within the house.

  I knocked on the open door and leaned inside to peek into the living room. “Dolly?” I caught sight of a slipper-encased foot. “Dolly!”

  “Marley?” Brett said as I dashed into the house.

  “Oh no!” I choked out the words.

  Dolly was lying on the floor, unconscious, wearing a pink bathrobe over a nightgown.

  Brett had followed me into the house, right on my heels. He crouched down next to Dolly, his phone already to his ear.

  My breathing hitched when I heard a scuffling noise coming from somewhere deeper in the house.

  My eyes widened as footsteps pounded down the staircase from the second floor.

  “Brett!” I said with alarm.

  Before Brett had a chance to get to his feet, a dark figure bolted across the foyer and out the front door.

  Chapter Twenty

  I shivered as I stood on Dolly’s front lawn, even though I wore a hoodie. Brett put an arm around me as we watched the paramedics load Dolly into an ambulance on a stretcher. Two sheriff’s department vehicles were also parked on the street in front of the house. Deputies Devereaux and Mendoza had responded to Brett’s emergency call, but by the time they arrived on the scene, the intruder was long gone.

  Brett had dashed out of the house after the black-clad figure, with me right behind him, but the stranger had slipped through a gate into a neighbor’s yard and disappeared within seconds. I wanted to continue the chase, but Brett had wisely dissuaded me. The trespasser had already harmed Dolly—we’d discovered that she’d taken a knock to her head—and there was absolutely no guarantee that he or she wouldn’t hurt Brett or me as well if given a reason.

  “I can’t believe this,” Winnifred said with a shake of her head as she crossed the lawn to join Brett and me. She’d just finished having a conversation with Deputy Devereaux. “Poor Dolly.”

  “How is she?” I asked.

  Brett and I had vacated the house as soon as the paramedics had arrived, giving them room to work. We hadn’t had a close look at Dolly since. I’d phoned Winnifred as soon as the deputies arrived, and she’d shown up within a couple of minutes. It turned out that she lived only four houses away from Dolly, so she didn’t have far to come. She’d already conferred with the paramedics as well as Deputy Devereaux.

  “She’s conscious,” Winnifred said, which brought me a rush of relief. “But she’s woozy and confused. She doesn’t seem to know what happened.” She shook her head again. “Who would do such a thing? It’s appalling that anyone would attack such a vulnerable woman.”

  I didn’t have an answer to Winnifred’s question, and neither did Brett.

  Deputy Eva Mendoza exchanged a few words with Devereaux at the base of the front steps and then headed our way.

  “You say the intruder came down the stairs from the second floor?” Mendoza directed the question at Brett and me.

  “That’s right,” Brett said as I nodded.

  “Were they looking for something to steal?” Winnifred asked the deputy.

  “Most likely,” Mendoza replied. “Although it’s strange that they apparently bypassed the main and second floors and went straight for the attic after attacking Mrs. Maxwell.”

  “The attic?” Winnifred echoed with confusion. “Why would any burglar go up there? Everything is boxed up, and I doubt there’s anything of real value up there. The thief would have had much better luck on the other floors of the house.”

  “Was the attic tidy?” Mendoza asked.

  “Yes,” Winnifred replied. “Dolly’s granddaughter, Krista, was sorting through things up there recently, but she left everything neat and orderly.”

  Mendoza glanced over her shoulder at the house. “It’s not tidy anymore. The attic’s been ransacked.”

  A chill settled into my chest. “Do you think the burglar was looking for something specific?”

  “It’s possible.” Mendoza directed her next question at Winnifred. “Any idea what that might be?”

  “None at all,” Winnifred said.

  “But the letters…” I trailed off.

  Winnifred’s thin eyebrows drew together. “Surely this isn’t related.”

  “What letters?” Deputy Mendoza asked.

  With help from Winnifred, I filled Mendoza in on the letters and their mysterious disappearance.

  The deputy nodded as we finished speaking. “I remember
hearing about those letters now. But even if Ms. Fassbender’s killer stole them, why search Mrs. Maxwell’s house? The killer would already have possession of the letters.”

  None of us could answer her question.

  I shared one of my own. “Why leave the front door open if you wanted time to search the house? If the burglar took pains to get Dolly out of the way, why announce their presence with the open front door?”

  “That may have been unintentional,” Winnifred said. “That door can be quite finicky. If you don’t give it a firm shove, it doesn’t latch properly and tends to drift open on its own.”

  That was one thing explained, at least, but so much else remained unknown.

  “This is probably unrelated to the murder,” Deputy Mendoza told us.

  “But isn’t it at least possible that there’s a connection?” Brett asked.

  “It’s possible,” Mendoza said. “And we’ll look into it.”

  She took statements from Brett and me, but we weren’t able to provide much helpful information. Neither Brett nor I knew if the intruder had been male or female. He or she had appeared as little more than a blur. All we could really say was that he or she wasn’t particularly overweight or particularly thin.

  After we provided our brief statements, Deputy Mendoza told us we could head on home. By that time, the ambulance was long gone, and Krista had arrived, thanks to a phone call from Winnifred. The two of them had disappeared into the house, along with Deputy Devereaux.

  It didn’t take long for Brett and me to get home, and I was relieved to reach the comfort of our beloved beachfront Victorian and greet our animals. I was worried about Dolly and likely would remain so until I received news that she’d be okay.

  Deputy Mendoza doubted that the events at Dolly’s house were connected to Jane’s murder, but because of the fact that the intruder had focused on searching the attic—where Krista had found Jack O’Malley’s letters—I couldn’t help but believe that Jane’s killer had passed within feet of me and Brett that evening.

  * * * *

  At the end of the next workday, I packed up two leftover sticky rolls and took them with me to Tommy’s house. We arranged to have another visit, and I didn’t want to go empty-handed. He had his phone back, which made him happy, so we could stay in frequent contact now. Logan had turned out to be a great help to Ivan in the kitchen, and I enjoyed having him working at The Flip Side, but we all still missed Tommy. It wasn’t the same without him at the pancake house each day.