by Diane Weiner
“Yes, I remember you from last summer. You’re the history teacher, right?”
“That’s me. And you’re the doctor’s wife.”
“Great memory.”
“When my wife fell and hit her head last summer, your husband ran some tests. Sent her home with a clean bill of health.”
Coralee said, “Dallas is a new father. Their baby was born a few months after they left last summer.”
“Congratulations. Boy or girl?”
“A precious little girl. Alexandra Sophie.”
“Are they here with you?” Emily remembered speaking to his wife on several occasions.
“Yes, at the cabin we rent every summer.”
“Let me see a picture. Babies are so precious.”
“I left my phone in the car, but I have plenty.”
Coralee said, “Emily is looking for someone to do cabinet work. I recommended you.”
“Thanks. I can use every extra bit of money I can get now that there’s another mouth to feed. I’d be happy to come by and take a look after I finish here.”
“Great. We’ll be there. Coralee will point you in the right direction.”
Emily stopped at the cat café. The cat condo, which started as a simple cat tree, had been expanded even further than it was last time she’d seen it. It now connected to a wrap-around shelf near the ceiling which circled the entire room. Two customers sipped coffee at one of the tables Henry built. Emily bent down to pet a calico, lying on its side in a cushioned cat bed.
Maddy held an oversized orange tom-cat. “Litter is changed. Did you see the basket of books Coralee put by the rocker? She said customers donated them and they all feature cats! One is all about a high school girl who starts a cat café as a community service project.”
“Sound like your very own biography. Ready to go?”
After leaving the cat café, Emily headed home, excited at the prospect of new cabinets. She changed her clothes and relaxed with a cup of tea and a book. Maddy plopped onto the couch.
“Don’t you think that lawyer is really old? I think we need someone born in this century.”
“He’s got a lot of experience and he’s smart as a whip. I trust him.”
“Do you think he knows how to use a computer?”
This time it was Emily rolling her eyes. “Seriously?”
After a while, Rebecca called.
“Emily, I did some more digging. Professor Carlson had charges brought against him for domestic abuse. It was long before his wife got ill, but it shows he’s got the capability.”
“Did the charges stick?”
“No. His wife withdrew the accusations.”
“What else did you find out? Why was he suspected in his wife’s death?”
“She’d made it to church the evening before her death and stated in front of the congregation she wished God would take her before the pain got worse, or that he’d give courage to a loved one to help her move on. She died the next day while she was alone with Professor Carlson. A vial of morphine was missing. One the pharmacy has just filled.”
“How did you get all that so fast?”
“My old professor. She exhausted what she knew, then gave me a few more names to talk to. Hope it helps.”
“I’ll call Jonathan right away. You’re amazing.”
Maddy said, “There’s another suspect, right? Do you think they will let Robby go now?”
“It’s going to take some more work before Professor Carlson is a viable suspect. We don’t have any physical evidence placing him at the picnic. Not yet, anyway.”
Emily finished her tea and was about to start a load of wash when there was a knock at the door. The dark-haired teacher/handyman from the inn stood holding a tool box.
“Dallas. I almost forgot you were coming by. Come on in.”
“Cute cabin. Very homey,” said Dallas, as he followed her into the kitchen. She wished she’d taken the time to wash the breakfast dishes piled in the sink.
“As you can see, the cabinets aren’t in great shape. Henry’s parents owned the place, and before that, his grandparents. I think these might be the original ones.”
Dallas opened the doors and jiggled the knobs. Then he ran his fingers over the brass latches. “The wood’s warped and all the hardware needs replacing. I think you’re better off starting from scratch rather than trying to repair these. I can build you some new ones for a reasonable price.”
Emily weighed Henry’s woodworking skills against the offer Dallas made. Henry was a perfectionist and she estimated how long it would take him to do it, with working part time at the hospital. Dallas had a built-in deadline. He’d have to finish by summer’s end if he expected to get paid before the new school year started.
“Coralee highly recommended you. It’s a deal.”
“Okay, then. I’ll come by in the morning with some wood samples and we’ll go from there.”
Chapter 11
The next morning, Emily went for a run, then showered and sat down to finish final revisions on the true-crime book she was writing. Henry, in agreement with Emily’s decision to hire Dallas, had already gone to the hospital; Maddy was still asleep. She hoped once school started again, Maddy would be able to get herself up before noon. Mid-morning, Dallas arrived with cabinet samples.
Emily spread the samples out on the kitchen table. She held the promising ones up to the light, squinted, felt the finish. She narrowed it down to two. “I like the light pine, and the walnut. Is one more durable than the other?”
“They’re both good choices.”
Maddy came into the kitchen in her pajamas, looking puzzled by the samples spread out over the table.
“Maddy, which wood do you like for the new cabinets?”
“Huh?”
“This is Dallas Peterkin. Coralee recommended him to put in new cabinets.”
Maddy ran her hands over the two Emily had set apart. “I like this one.”
Dallas said, “That’s the pine. It will match nicely with the floors and walls.”
“Pine it is,” said Emily. “When can you start?”
“I’m doing some work over at the inn, but I can come by later this afternoon and start ripping out the old cabinets.”
So much for working on her book. Emily imagined clearing out all the cabinets and finding a place to store their contents. “Sure. That would be great.”
Her phone rang. “Give me a minute. Hi, Jonathan. That’s right. The police don’t have any eyewitnesses who can place Robby at the picnic. Only the lunch box and the sweatshirt. Circumstantial, right? Okay. Talk to you later.”
She led Dallas to the door. “Sorry, that was important.”
“Was it about that guy who killed the young girl? Hope they nail that son of a…”
Maddy interjected. “He didn’t do it. They have other suspects.”
Emily stepped between Dallas and Maddy. “We’ll see you this afternoon, right?”
“You got it.”
Emily did a little more writing before lunch. Her legs were aching, no longer acclimatized to running after a two-week hiatus. Being a successful true-crime writer came with its deadlines. This was her third book in as many years and she hoped this one, inspired by her ex-boss and the disappearance of her son, would be as big of a hit as the others. Although she had enjoyed teaching the adult writing course at St. Edwards last summer, she’d turned it down this year. Between the trip to Scotland and her current work in progress, not to mention her new responsibilities as the mother of a teenager, she knew she’d made the right decision.
After lunch, she and Maddy packed dishes away in cardboard boxes. Carefully wrapping each item, she was glad she’d held onto the two-weeks-worth of newspapers accumulated while they were away. They’d just about finished, when Jonathan arrived.
“Did you find anything?” asked Maddy, the moment the door opened.
Emily led Jonathan into the living room. “Maddy, he’s barely been in town twenty-four hou
rs.” Turning to Jonathan, she said, “I hope you found the inn comfortable.”
“Absolutely. And I adore the cat café. My girlfriend back home would be in heaven. Coralee told me you started the entire thing, Maddy.”
Emily was a little surprised at an eighty-year-old man having a girlfriend, but more power to him. He did have the most beautiful cobalt-colored eyes.
“It was a school project that just sort of grew,” said Maddy.
Jonathan pulled his notes out of his brief case. “I found out Carlson was heading toward bankruptcy paying for his wife’s medical care.”
“Wasn’t that a long time ago? Before I was even born. How does that help Robby now?”
“It can help us with reasonable doubt. If he had a motive to kill his own wife, the jury just might believe he killed his much younger girlfriend. We can plant the seed, deflecting the sole suspicion off Robby.”
“Is that all you’ve got? Isn’t Vermont one of those right-to-die states?”
“Maddy! That’s rude.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Fox. All I’m saying is that’s all we have now. We’re just getting started.”
“Call me Emily. At the post memorial gathering, someone mentioned something about a suicide note on Damari’s computer.”
“I’ll check it out.” His phone vibrated on the coffee table. “It’s the police station. Yes, Detective O’Leary. I’m the counsel of record, yes. I’ll be right down.”
“News?” said Emily.
“The detective got an anonymous call to the tip line. The caller claims to have seen Robby Birchfield at the picnic with Damari Cooper the night she was killed. I’m afraid with this new discovery, there’s no doubt we’ll be going to trial. I’ve got to work fast.”
After Jonathan left, Emily couldn’t concentrate on her book. Maddy was panicked and peppered her with questions she couldn’t answer.
“I don’t know if they can use an anonymous tip, or if they can trace the call.”
“Can’t the police interview people who were at the picnic and ask if they saw Professor Carlson there?”
“Again, that’s a question for Jonathan, or Detective Megan.” She felt her blood pressure rising, just watching Maddy’s agitation and being unable to provide answers. She was relieved to see Henry walk through the door.
“Everything okay?” He put his keys down on the hallway table.
“The police received another anonymous tip. Someone claims to have seen Robby and Damari together the night she was killed.”
“Anonymous tip? If someone had that information, why would they wait until now to call it in? And why anonymous? Robby’s been arrested, it’s not like he’d be a threat.”
“Maybe that’s exactly why they waited. You know this town. Once Robby was arrested, I’m sure the news spread like wildfire.” Emily sank into the recliner. “We’ll have to wait and see what Jonathan comes up with.” She could see Maddy wasn’t pleased.
Henry walked into the kitchen. “Whoa, looks like a tornado came through here.”
Emily, reminded of the project, followed him. “I choose this wood. Maddy liked it too. If you think it looks like a mess now, wait until Dallas comes back and starts pulling out these old cabinets.”
“He isn’t wasting any time. I like the wood you chose.” He gave her a hug, then turned to his daughter. “Cheer up, Maddy. I have faith in Robby’s legal counsel.”
“It’s going to be hard to cook in there. We’ll have to stock up on paper plates.”
“It’s a perfect excuse to go to the inn for dinner, right, Maddy?” He and Emily both knew how much seeing the cats cheered up Maddy.
Emily had almost forgotten Dallas Peterkin was coming back in the afternoon. She’d just gone back to packing the kitchen when she heard Henry answer the door.
“How’s your wife doing?” asked Henry. “Last time I saw her she was ecstatic there had been no damage to her head or to the baby. Can’t believe it’s been a whole year already. She was lucky. Most hospitals this size don’t have the latest equipment like we do. I was happy I was able to reassure her there were no injuries.”
“She and the baby are doing great. It was a girl. Alexandra Sophie.”
“Daughters are a blessing.” Henry brought Dallas to the kitchen. “So did you bring a wrecking ball or something?”
“Nah. Just the tools in my box and a little muscle.”
“Come on, Emily. Put that down and let’s let the man work.”
It wasn’t easy to relax with the cacophony coming from the kitchen, but Emily flipped through the channels. Neither was a regular daytime television watcher. She turned up the volume, distracted by the sound coming from the kitchen.
“So, a TV shrink trying to get a stubborn teen to go to rehab, a show about the wonders of kale and how to make twenty recipes using it, or seeing if the judge awards damages to the lady whose ex deliberately crashed his car through the side of her trailer. This is what we’ve been missing?” said Henry.
“Want to go for a walk?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to leave Maddy alone here with a stranger.”
“Emily, Henry, you have to see this,” called Dallas. They ran into the kitchen where Dallas held a cabinet in his hand. He nodded toward the wall. “Take a look. In the wall.”
Emily gasped. Henry grabbed a flashlight and said. “What on earth?”
“Take it out,” said Emily. She grabbed the flashlight from Henry.
Henry reached in, pulling out a tarnished, silver box that fit in his two cupped hands. “It has a padlock. How are we going to get it open?”
Maddy wandered into the kitchen. “What’s that?”
“A silver box, hidden behind the cabinets in the wall,” said Henry. He pulled at the lock.
“If you want it open, I can do that,” said Dallas. Given the go ahead, he fished in his toolbox for a pair of pliers. Without too much difficulty, he broke the lock open.
Maddy said, “What if it’s cursed? Maybe we should leave it closed. Whoever buried it in the wall may have had a good reason.”
“You mean like Pandora’s box?” said Henry. “Don’t be silly.” He lifted the creaky lid, with three pair of eyes, in addition to his own, glued to the contents.
Emily lifted out a playing card, several envelopes sealed with wax, imprinted with the letter F, and a skeleton key. “What on earth?”
The envelopes each had a Roman numeral written calligraphy style under the wax seal. Henry held up number one. “Should I open it?”
“Yes!” shouted Emily and Maddy. Dallas nodded.
Henry carefully opened the envelope. “It’s some kind of riddle. It says What has a mouth but cannot speak, runs but has no legs?
“Is it a joke?” said Maddy. “Who left it there?”
“My grandfather built this place from the ground up. It had to be someone in my family.”
Emily said, “It’s so bizarre. Who did he expect to find it?”
“My grandfather loved games. He died when I was ten, but I remember he taught me to play Checkers and started teaching me Chess.”
“No wonder you love Sudoku so much,” said Maddy. “It’s genetic.”
Emily said, “What are we supposed to do with this? And why the playing card? An ace of spades?”
“I’m more curious about the key,” said Maddy.
Dallas said, “Should I continue? Maybe there’s buried treasure in there too.”
“Go ahead. I think we’re going out to dinner later but you can work until then,” said Emily.
She couldn’t imagine what the odd items added up to. It had to have been put there by Henry’s grandfather, right? What kind of a game had he been playing and who was meant to find the silver box? She sat at her desk, trying to write, but her mind kept wandering back and forth from Robby’s predicament to this new puzzle. And her legs ached.
Chapter 12
Emily gave up on writing and, instead, stretched out on her bed, popped two Advil, and closed her ey
es. Chester curled up beside her, hogging half her pillow. His soothing purr, white noise, lulled her to sleep.
She woke up with a start. Sweating. Heart racing. Maddy––chased by someone whose face she couldn’t make out. She ran after them. The attacker sped up. She ran faster––until she collapsed, arms outstretched, never reaching them. She sat up, caught her breath, and looked around the bedroom, anchoring herself. It was just a bad dream. Maddy is fine.
She glanced at her phone and turned off the alarm seconds before it had been set to go off. She washed her face, put on a bit of eyeliner and foundation, then pulled on denim capris and a fitted floral shirt.
Henry opened the door. “Are you okay.”
Her heart beat had normalized. “I’m fine.”
“Ready? We should get going.”
They piled into the Jeep. Maddy put on her Dr. Beats, a blindfold for the ears. At the inn, Emily introduced Jonathan to Henry.
“I’m glad you could join us for dinner,” said Henry.
“The walk from my room nearly killed me.” Jonathan coughed, paused, then broke into a laugh. “I’m kidding. I may look old but I’ve got the body of a fifty–year-old.” He flexed his arm and Emily marveled at the hint of a wrinkled bicep peeking out from the sleeve of his royal blue polo shirt.
Maddy quickly checked on the cats, then joined them at the table. “Coralee has that eggplant and couscous dish on the menu tonight. I saw it on the specials when I came in.”
“Maddy and I are vegetarians,” explained Emily. “Coralee has been wonderful about trying out meatless recipes since Maddy joined us.” She assumed her friend Susan had filled him in on their family background before he came, and it seemed to be the case.
“I’ve given up red meat myself,” said Jonathan. “I live on chicken and fish.” He turned toward the door. “Isn’t that the detective I spoke to earlier?”
Megan and Pat, holding hands, made their way to the table. Henry said, “Fancy meeting you here.”
“We only eat here four or five times a week,” said Pat. Noticing Jonathan, he extended his hand. “You must be the lawyer from Atlanta.”
“Originally Atlanta, but I moved to Westbrook to be near family. I’m Jonathan Stirling.”
