Maple Syrup Mysteries Box Set 2: Books 4-6

by Emily James

  6

  Once Mark picked me up, I took the coward’s way out and called my mom’s cell rather than my dad’s to ask about borrowing one of the private investigators they kept on retainer. Unfortunately, her phone went to voicemail. I hung up without leaving a message. I could wait for my mom, but I wanted someone looking into Cary right away.

  I straightened my shoulders despite the fact that my dad wouldn’t be able to see me. My parents had always insisted that proper posture gave you confidence. Now was as good a time as any to test their theory.

  I dialed my dad’s number.

  “Edward Dawes.”

  “It’s Nicole. I have a…request.”

  I’d almost said favor, but a favor implied an inability on one side and generosity on the other. A request suggested it was one equal talking to another.

  My dad had never seen me as an equal, in intelligence or ability, and maybe that was part of why he reacted so poorly whenever I didn’t do exactly what he wanted me to. Most parents and their children negotiated their relationship as their children grew so that their parents became advisors—sometimes even friends—but their children’s independent decisions and life choices were respected. Or at least tolerated without resorting to the silent treatment. My dad and I had never made that transition. He’d been protecting me and directing me my entire life until I left for Fair Haven.

  “I’m on my way to court,” my dad said. “Make it quick.”

  It was better than a flat-out no.

  I could make it sound like I was working a case, and I’d be guaranteed his agreement, but I didn’t want to play his game. I wanted our relationship—if we were going to have one going forward—to be able to endure the truth.

  “Ahanti has been having trouble with a stalker. I have a lead on who it might be, but I need a PI to run some checks and tail him for a few days to see if we’re right. We need to get enough evidence for a restraining order.”

  “I don’t know if we have anyone free, and I don’t have time to check.”

  On someone who didn’t know him as well, that brush-off might have worked. It didn’t work on me. “I’m happy to call the office and have someone there check for me.”

  The ambient driving noises coming through my dad’s Bluetooth eased off like he was slowing down for a turn or a toll booth. “The firm’s resources aren’t there for you to waste on non-cases.”

  I closed my eyes and drew in a stabilizing breath because what I wanted to do was blow a raspberry at him through the phone and hang up. Loudly. Right in his ear. The prideful part of me that I’d probably inherited from him felt like hanging up on him and paying for someone myself. But my parents vetted all their private investigators, and they only hired the best. I needed the best.

  Mark brushed a steadying hand against my shoulder.

  I opened my eyes. I’d given my dad a chance to be generous. Now I’d have to show him that, however low his opinion of me was, I was still his daughter, and I was a stronger person than I’d once been. “Consider it repaying a debt then for the service Ahanti rendered us last fall.”

  The background noise picked up again in the time it took my dad to answer. “Call Caroline at the office. I assume you still know the number. And put Mark on.”

  Put Mark on? I covered the bottom of my phone with my hand. “He wants to talk to you,” I whispered.

  I fished the earbuds out of my purse, plugged them in, and outfitted Mark.

  “Cavanaugh,” he said, then winked at me. The man was smart.

  “No,” Mark said. “We don’t have anything planned for tomorrow morning.”

  A pause.

  “Okay, I’ll be ready at six.”

  He motioned for me to take out the earbud. I disconnected the call.

  Mark’s mouth hung open slightly. “I’ve been summoned to go golfing with your dad tomorrow at his club.”

  Golf might be the game my dad invited Mark to, but he was definitely playing at something else. And, as always seemed to happen, I was left feeling like even though I’d won this encounter, I’d somehow played right into my dad’s master plan.

  Since Mark would be playing golf with my dad and having brunch at the club afterward, I had him drop me off at Ahanti’s apartment so I could go with her to work. We had so little time to spend together, I wanted every moment I could grab.

  Besides, until we could confirm that Cary was her stalker—and even once we had—we needed to look at ways to make her life safer.

  The day didn’t get off to quite the start we’d hoped, though. It took us longer to find a parking space than it would have to walk to Skin Canvas.

  By the time we parked and headed inside, Ahanti had gnawed her bottom lip raw. I stayed quiet at her side. Driving had been my idea. I wouldn’t be there to go home with her, and I’d insisted that she shouldn’t be walking alone right now. Terrance could easily enough walk her out to her car, but it’d be asking a lot for him to walk her to and from work every day.

  It’d seemed like a simple step she could take to protect herself, but I’d forgotten why she hadn’t already moved across town into Geoff’s apartment.

  Walking to work had always been one of her joys, even in the winter and the heat stroke-inducing temperatures of summer.

  I had to give her something else to focus on and give her a bit of hope. I hurried to keep up with her longer strides. “We could help tie Cary to that picture of Geoff if we could find someone who remembers seeing him here that day. Maybe you could make a list?”

  Her lips relaxed back into a more normal shape. “I can check my appointment book for the customers.”

  Ahanti pulled the door open and didn’t even pause at the fact that it was already unlocked. Even if she expected Terrance to have opened up and be inside, she should have checked more carefully anyway. It was something I’d need to talk about with her as well. But later.

  Thankfully, this time, only Terrance stood at the back of the studio.

  Ahanti flopped down in the chair next to Terrance’s empty work station. “Was Cary in here two weeks ago?”

  Terrance turned around, his gloved hands full of equipment he’d been pulling from the autoclave. “What’d he do now, steal something from us? Wouldn’t surprise me if he had.” He set the container down and started sorting the items. “He’s always coming in here like he has some right to this studio because he trained us. He probably thinks he can take stuff to use without asking.”

  Terrance, clearly, was still as bad about answering questions as he was about giving anyone else a chance to answer them.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” I whispered to Ahanti. “What day was it?”

  Ahanti squirted a dollop of hand sanitizer into her palms and rubbed it over her hands as if she could protect herself from the whole situation as easily as she could germs. “Wednesday, Terrance. Did you see him in here two weeks ago yesterday?”

  “Have we gone a whole week when he isn’t in here? I know he showed up some day that week, but I don’t remember which one it was.”

  That was probably the closest we were going to get to a definitive answer from Terrance. Really, I couldn’t blame him for not remembering. If Cary were in here as often as it seemed, the days would blur together, especially with how many people came in and out of Skin Canvas on a daily basis. A client would be much more likely to remember who was also in and out during the time they were there.

  I touched Ahanti’s shoulder to signal she should stay put. “I’ll grab you a paper and pen from the back so you can check the calendar for that day and write down who we need to contact. When’s your first client scheduled for?”

  “Unless I’m early,” a soft voice said from behind me, “right now.”

  I spun around.

  The man standing in the doorway was one of Ahanti’s longtime clients. Since I’d seen him last, he’d shaved his head to strategically hide his receding hairline, but otherwise he looked exactly like I remembered. Same black t
-shirt and blue jeans, as if he’d filled his closet with copies of the same clothes so that he never had to decide on what to wear. Same slight stoop to his shoulders as if he didn’t want to be noticed for his six-foot stature.

  “Eddie!” I smiled for what felt like the first time that day. “Long time no see.”

  He lumbered from the doorway into the studio, reminding me a bit of a bear in his movement. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

  Every time I heard Eddie speak, it surprised me that such a big man with such a deep voice could also keep his tone so soft.

  I held out my hand to show him the ring. “We’re planning a December wedding.”

  He nodded. Along with his soft voice, Eddie’d also never been one for small talk, though I knew from his many visits that he enjoyed a good conversation if someone else took the time to draw him out and show interest.

  Ahanti was already on her feet. “I’ll get your design from the back so we don’t make you late for work.”

  I took the seat she’d vacated since it seemed strange to stand there staring up at Eddie. The last time I’d seen Eddie, almost a year ago now, he’d been in between jobs. “Sounds like I should congratulate you as well. Where are you working now?”

  “My cousin started a security business. He wasn’t gonna hire me since he thought it’d be uncomfortable working with family, but Ahanti convinced some of her clients to go with his company and insist on using me. He had to hire me then.”

  Terrance stuck his head around the corner. “Ed replaced the locks at my place.”

  Ahanti came back carrying her sketchbook. “And put the alarm pad into mine.” Tension lines build around her mouth. “I’m glad to have it now.”

  Eddie didn’t look at the sketchbook Ahanti opened on the table. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Cary, isn’t it?” Terrance’s voice carried from the back room. “That’s why you were asking about him coming in here.”

  Ahanti tightened her long ponytail and bobbed her head. Terrance wouldn’t have been able to see her response. He probably wouldn’t have been paying attention for an answer anyway.

  “We think Cary’s been…” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re not even sure yet. But do you think you could come by and make sure my system’s working the way it should? I want to be sure he can’t get to me there.”

  That was another thing we’d talked about her doing. If her stalker was Cary, then he knew where she lived. If he couldn’t get to her at work, a place he’d probably been using because it was the most convenient and easy access, he might try her home instead.

  Eddie’s face showed zero emotion. On anyone else, I’d have thought he didn’t care, but Eddie never showed much emotion. I don’t think I’d ever even seen him smile. And unlike Erik back home, who always seemed to be laughing underneath, Eddie seemed sad all the way down.

  “I gotta be at work in a half hour, though,” he said, “so I can’t take care of it today. I’ll give you a call.”

  Ahanti thanked him, and he took the sketchbook from her. I got a peek at it as it went.

  The design seemed to be for a full back, based on the size and the fact that I knew Eddie already had an elaborate tribal design that wove around one of his arms and across his chest, leaving him without enough room for this one there. Ahanti had been touching that one up shortly before I’d gone to Fair Haven for Uncle Stan’s funeral.

  This one was of a wolf in a forest, howling at the moon. The moon wasn’t an ordinary white. It was an orange harvest moon, and the wolf’s eyes seemed to glow.

  I wanted to snatch it from her, frame it, and display it. Ahanti and I had never agreed on that. She’d always insisted she’d rather create art that lived with people rather than art they barely noticed in the rush of their lives. This piece had clearly been designed to be admired.

  Handing it to Eddie, Ahanti looked the most at peace I’d seen her since I got back.

  “Eddie let me choose the design this time,” she said. “But it was really a joint project. He’s given plenty of feedback along the way, and this hopefully will be the final sign-off before we start work.”

  Eddie handed the book back. “Whenever you can schedule me in.”

  They scheduled his first session, and he was gone with only a hand wave in goodbye.

  Terrance watched him leave, a frown on his face. He rubbed his hand over his short, curly hair vigorously enough to give anyone who touched him a shock. “Did you drive here today, A? If Cary’s hassling you again, you shouldn’t be walking alone.”

  Ahanti’s bottom lip dipped between her teeth again. If she chewed it much more, it’d start to bleed. “I drove.”

  “I’ll park at your place and walk to and from with you a couple days a week if you want.”

  Ahanti squeezed his shoulder on her way past to the back room.

  A shiver trickled over my upper arms, and I rubbed at the goosebumps. Terrance used to complain about the Virginia heat. He and Ahanti were in a constant battle over the air conditioner settings in the studio.

  He’d worked with Ahanti for longer than I’d known her, but I hadn’t realized they were friends as well. Of course, you probably didn’t stay working with someone that long unless you could also be friends. Or you were being paid a lot more than Ahanti made from Skin Canvas.

  My phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was Virginia-based. The only person here who had my new Michigan cell number and would be calling from someplace I didn’t recognize was the private investigator my dad asked to look into Cary and watch Ahanti’s place. I hadn’t noticed him when we left this morning, which meant he was good. If it was the PI with news on Cary, I didn’t want Ahanti to overhear. Her day was already off to a rough enough start.

  I motioned to Terrance that I was going to take the call outside and stepped out the door. My skin instantly went tacky even though it wasn’t yet nine o’clock.

  “Nicole Fitzhenry-Dawes.”

  “My name’s Lucas, Miss Fitzhenry-Dawes. I’m with Rockwood Investigations.” The man’s voice had a slight Hispanic accent. “I was told you were my contact when I had any information on the Ahanti Tenali case.”

  I’d been right to step outside.

  A girl who looked to be around eighteen approached the door for Skin Canvas. I stepped out of her way and waited until the door closed behind her.

  “That’s right.”

  “There was a man lingering around her apartment building last night. I can’t confirm his reason for being there yet. He made no contact. I got a picture of his license plate and face.”

  The air suddenly seemed too thick to breath. As much as we didn’t want Cary anywhere near Ahanti if he turned out to be her stalker, this was the kind of thing we could take to the police to show he was.

  “Was it the man in the photo we provided?”

  “That’s why I’m calling, ma’am. He wasn’t. I kept a watch on him until he left this morning, but I wasn’t sure if he was worth following or not.”

  That depended on whether or not Ahanti recognized him. We thought Cary was the best bet for her stalker, but we had no hard evidence. We couldn’t cross off the possibility that it was someone else entirely.

  “Could you text me the pictures?”

  He confirmed that he would, and we ended the call. As soon as the pictures came in, I’d show them to Ahanti. If she knew him, we might want to change our focus.

  My phone dinged, alerting me to a new text.

  I tapped the message, and it opened on my screen.

  My fingers suddenly felt unwieldy, like they’d swelled to twice their normal size. I didn’t need to ask Ahanti if she recognized him. I recognized him.

  It was Geoff.

  7

  I smoothed my hair and clothes even though the heat here made the action useless. At least it helped me pull my mind together.

  I couldn’t suggest to Ahanti that Geoff might be involved in this. Not until I talked to him at least.
Surely he had a perfectly good explanation for lurking around Ahanti’s apartment. Showing her this picture would only make her start fearing the person she should be able to trust the most.

  I needed to talk to Geoff right away. The problem was I’d driven here with Ahanti, intending to spend at least the morning. Whether or not I could get away depended on how Mark was faring with golf. I had to admit, I wasn’t sure how long a round of golf should take, but they’d been out there close to three or four hours now.

  I called Mark’s cell. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s your morning going?”

  There was something weird in his voice, almost like he was trying to prompt an answer from me without giving away which one he wanted.

  That made me think he wanted an out. From what he’d told me last night, he’d never played golf before and felt the only purpose for watching it on TV was if you were having trouble sleeping. The one time my dad had taken me, I was thirteen. I got bored, wandered off to look at a turtle, and fell into a water trap. He’d never invited me again.

  Hopefully Mark hadn’t ended up in the water trap, too.

  “Do you need a knight in shining armor?” I asked.

  “That’s okay. We’re almost done, so if you need me, I can come.”

  I kept my laugh soft so it didn’t carry through the phone if anyone was standing nearby. “I actually do need your help, so at least it’s not a complete lie. I’m at Skin Canvas.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  We disconnected.

  I shook out my hands, trying to loosen them up. It didn’t work. My fingers still felt like sausages on the ends of my palms, my engagement ring tight.

  But I had to pull myself together for Ahanti. I could do that.

  I ducked back inside.

  Ahanti stood with her hands on her hips in front of the teenager who’d passed me on her way in. “It doesn’t matter how many times you come in. I don’t give sleeves to anyone under twenty-five. Trust me, you wouldn’t thank me later if I did.”

  I was rusty on the terminology, but I thought a sleeve was a tattoo that went from shoulder to wrist—a big commitment to want to make when you weren’t even old enough to legally drink.