by Amanda Lee
“Ah, didn’t want to talk in front of the wife. Gotcha.”
“So before Blake called, I got two spooky calls asking me about what Margaret Trelawney knows.”
Riley barked out a laugh. “That call shouldn’t have taken long. I’m sorry. It’s just that Mrs. T strikes me as a tad dotty. Why would someone call you to find out what she knows, anyhow?” She took another bite of her sandwich.
“Because Mrs. Trelawney thinks I’m the only one who agrees that her husband’s murder and Timothy Enright’s murder are connected, and she may have been spreading that all over town, for all I know.”
“Oh yeah. Heard about the break-in. What then?”
I took a drink of my soda. “After receiving the call, I did a star-six-nine on my phone to see where the call had originated. I was told that the number wasn’t known. I got the same message after doing a star-six-nine after Blake called.”
Riley shook her head. “That’s no big deal. Might just be a coincidence.”
“I’m hearing the words coincidence and misunderstanding all over the place today. Isn’t that a little too coincidental?”
“Not necessarily. Maybe you are just being a little paranoid. Heck, if a guy died in my storeroom one week and my landlord was shot to death the next, I’d probably be freaked myself.”
Since Riley was halfway through her sandwich and I hadn’t even tasted mine, I took a bite. It was quite good. There was a spicy honey mustard on the sandwich that gave it some zip.
“Do you still have that hornets’ nest?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“You threw it away?”
I swallowed. “No. The police took it.”
“If they give it back, can I have it?”
I grinned. “By all means. Do you think that’s coincidental, too?”
“No. I think that one means something. I’m going up to visit Dad later. I’ll get his input.”
“Congratulate him for me on the granddaughter.”
She smiled. “I will.” Her smile faded. “In the meantime, watch your back.”
Long after Riley had left, I sat at the counter, looking out the window at the rain. I smiled slightly when I saw Detective Nash drive up. Hopefully, he’d learned something about my mysterious box. I noticed he wasn’t carrying it.
He entered the shop and immediately rubbed his arms. “That’s a cold rain.”
“Don’t make me dread leaving any more than I already do.”
He arched a brow as a raindrop rolled down his cheek. “You dread leaving work? Are you afraid to go home?”
“No. Not really. I’m dreading going out in the rain, that’s all.”
“You said ‘not really.’ Are you afraid?”
“No,” I said.
“Well, the hornets’ nest came from a nature center in northern California. There was a tag underneath the nest and the return address turned out to be theirs, as well.”
“So it is a coincidence? It was sent to me by mistake?”
“Hardly,” Detective Nash said. “Someone claiming to be you—or to be calling on your behalf—called, ordered, and paid for the nest.”
“Then you have a credit card receipt?”
“Yes, yours. But Manu told me about the identity theft. So, we’ve got nothing.”
“There were no prints?”
He shook his head.
“I didn’t really think there would be. But a girl can hope.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Someday your prints will come.”
I closed my eyes. “That was terrible.”
“I know it was lame, but it’s the best I can do today.” He smiled.
The shop bell jingled, and Todd Calloway walked in. “Hope I’m not interrupting official police business.”
“Hi, Todd,” I said.
“Calloway.” The irritation in Detective Nash’s voice was evident. I wondered if he resented the interruption or if he knew something about Todd that I didn’t.
“I can go over here and look at embroidery thread or play with Angus, if you guys still have business to discuss,” Todd said.
“It’s all right,” Detective Nash said. “I was on my way out. Marcy, you have my number.”
“Right.”
Detective Nash left, and a grinning Todd sidled up next to me. “I don’t think he cares for me. At least, not as much as he cares for you.”
I scoffed. “It truly was police business.”
“Oh yeah? What’s up?”
“I got a hornets’ nest in the mail today.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yeah, I know. So, what brings you by?”
“I took the evening off and wanted to know if I could hang out with you and Angus, provided I bring a video, some popcorn, and a rawhide chew. That is, unless you have other plans . . . or some more official police business.”
“No,” I said after a pause. “Angus and I would be delighted to have you join us for the evening.” I still wasn’t quite sure what to think about the fact that his name was in the ledger, but I thought that this at least would give me an opportunity to feel him out on the subject. Plus, having a handsome, likable guy over for a movie wasn’t much of a sacrifice.
I showered, changed clothes at least twice, and took extra time with my hair and makeup before Todd’s arrival. Since we were having a casual evening, I wore jeans and a long-sleeved pale blue blouse. Though I longed to go barefoot, I slipped on black mules that I could easily step into or out of, making them the next best thing to being barefoot. I wore the diamond stud earrings Mom had given me for my twenty-first birthday. And I curled my hair so it would fall in tousled waves around my face.
After getting myself ready, I went to the kitchen to see what I could throw together in the way of appetizers. I studied the freezer, because that’s where I keep most of my Unexpected Company Is Coming foodstuffs.
I had some mini bacon-and-cheddar quiches, which have the flakiest crusts ever. Plus, they have bits of onion that really enhance the flavor of the eggs. I was nearly drooling in anticipation as I preheated the oven.
I found a box of cheesecake bites that required nothing but thawing. I took them out and arranged them on a decorative plate. There were three flavors: key lime, strawberry, and triple chocolate. With Todd bringing the popcorn, I decided the cheesecakes and quiches would be plenty.
I was taking the quiches out of the oven when the doorbell rang. “Coming,” I called, setting the cookie sheet with the mini quiches on a trivet.
I hurried to the living room and opened the door. And to think I’d been drooling over quiches. Todd looked way better than the quiches and the cheesecakes combined.
He wore jeans and a black henley open at the throat. His dark hair glistened, and his eyes were that mixture of good-boy sweetness and bad-boy charm that makes a woman’s heart drop to her knees. And he was carrying a bouquet of roses, daisies, and chrysanthemums. Now I ask you: Does it get any better than that?
He held out a rawhide bone. “This is for you.” He inclined his head toward the flowers. “These are for Angus. Unless you two would prefer to swap.”
“I believe we would,” I said, taking the flowers.
Todd followed me into the kitchen. “Where is Angus?”
“He’s in the backyard at the moment. I thought it would be best to let him in after we’ve had our fill of snacks.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I’d imagine our boy could take care of those quiches in about one gulp.”
“Two, if he took time to chew. What movie did you bring?”
“I didn’t. I did bring the popcorn, though.”
I took a white vase from beneath the sink, filled it three-quarters of the way full of water, and arranged the bouquet in the vase.
“You take pains with everything you do, don’t you?” Todd asked.
“I think if you’re going to do something, you should do it right.”
“Oh, I agree.” A lazy smile played across his lips. “
I agree wholeheartedly.”
Something in the way he said that made me blush. I turned away so he couldn’t see. He laughed softly. Darn it; he’d seen.
I finished arranging the flowers, washed my hands, and put the quiches on a platter. I nodded toward the cheesecakes. “Can you get those?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We set the food on the coffee table and still had room for the tub of popcorn Todd had brought. I returned to the kitchen for plates, silverware, napkins, and drinks.
“You didn’t bring any home brew tonight?” I asked with a grin as I handed Todd a soda.
“Not tonight. I wanted us to have clear heads.” His voice turned serious. “I want to get to know you, Marcy.”
“I want to get to know you, too.”
“And I don’t want either of us to have fuzzy tongues or fuzzy memories in the morning.”
I burst out laughing, and so did he.
I waved my hand toward the food. “What will you have first?”
“This.” He leaned toward me, raked his fingers through my hair, and pulled me to him for a deep, thorough kiss. Then he looked into my half-closed eyes for a moment before saying, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. And now I think I’d better try a quiche.”
At least, I think that’s what he said. My mind had drifted back to the fantasy I’d ascribed to Vera in the store the other day where Todd had marched back into the shop, bent me over his arm, kissed me, and said, “You need to be kissed . . . often . . . and by someone who knows how.” Boy, did he know how.
We made general small talk while we ate. But finally we were down to nibbling on the popcorn, and Angus was chewing on his rawhide at our feet. Unfortunately, our discussion was about to take a serious turn.
Chapter Fifteen
“How long have you known Blake and Sadie?” Todd asked.
“Sadie and I were roommates in college.” I smiled. “Two nerdy girls. I was earning a bachelor’s in business administration, with an emphasis in accounting, and Sadie was working toward her bachelor’s in radiology.”
“Radiology?”
“Yeah. She changed majors two or three times that first year. She went from radiology to communications.” I raised my eyes to the ceiling and thought a second. “Then she switched to ecology, and finally wound up in hospitality management . . . where she stayed.”
“And that gave her the skills she’d need for Mac-Kenzies’ Mochas,” Todd said.
“Exactly. So, there you go. How about you? How long have you known the MacKenzies?”
“About four years or so. In fact, it was Blake who convinced me to open the Brew Crew.”
“It was Sadie who convinced me to open the Seven-Year Stitch,” I said with a laugh. “Those two are regular entrepreneur incubators.”
“Yeah, it’s a wonder they’re not asking us for kickbacks.”
The word kickbacks triggered thoughts of Bill Trelawney’s ledger and the call I’d received from Blake last night.
“Did I say something wrong?” Todd asked. “You’ve gone all pensive on me all of a sudden.”
“I was with Reggie Singh at the Trelawneys’ house yesterday, and Reggie found a ledger. It was of particular concern to me because my name was in it.”
“Why should that concern you? You rent from them just like I do, don’t you?”
“That’s the thing. It was a dummy ledger. There was a notation by my name—and the names of other people—that Reggie and Manu believe indicated the people were used as straw buyers. And I found out I’ve been the victim of identity theft.”
Todd nodded slowly. “This has you thinking it was Bill Trelawney who stole your identity.”
“Yes. And I should tell you—your name is in the ledger, too.”
He looked back at me stonily. I couldn’t read him at all.
“Do you know why your name is in that ledger? Did Bill Trelawney ask you for a favor?” I asked.
“Nope.” He looked at his watch. “I do know it’s getting late, though. And as much as I’ve enjoyed our evening, I’d better be on my way.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He gave me a half smile. In the light of the hallway, I could see lines from age—or worry—in the corners of his eyes.
I walked him to the door.
“You and Angus sleep tight tonight.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and left.
I closed the door and went back to the sofa. As if sensing my bewilderment, Angus got up, walked over to me, and rested his head on my thigh. I absently scratched his head and wondered if I was the only person on that ledger who hadn’t sold out to Bill Trelawney and Four Square Development.
Thankfully, the rest of the night was uneventful. The next morning, not wanting to take any chances with my only day off, I put Angus in the Jeep, and we left town right after breakfast.
We drove up the coast and parked at a secluded beach. Angus waded in the water, barked at birds and crabs, and dug in the sand. Like a mom overseeing her rowdy toddler, I sat on a lounge chair, reading a paperback and shouting seldom-heeded warnings. The wind was so gusty, I didn’t dare take out the tote bag I’d hoped to work on. But overall, it was a pleasant morning, and just what I needed.
When I started getting hungry, Angus and I packed up and got back into the Jeep to go on a quest for lunch. I remembered Captain Moe’s and decided to see if I could find the place.
It wasn’t at all difficult to find. I began seeing billboards about seven miles out, and they led me straight to Captain Moe’s. The diner seemed small on the outside but was roomier inside than I had thought it would be. The decor was either retro or old. Round swiveling stools on metal poles with red seats were lined up at a stainless-steel counter. Additional seating was provided by booths located against the walls. Like the stools, the booths featured red padding. The tables were white Formica with a metal base. Vintage metal signs and posters decorated the walls, and there was a jukebox in one corner. At the moment, the diner was empty.
“How can I help you, young lady?”
I turned to see Captain Moe himself coming through a set of double doors, a warm smile on his face.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Marcy Singer.”
“Ah yes, Riley’s friend. It’s nice to meet you. Did you bring that wolfhound with you?”
“I did. He’s waiting in the Jeep.”
“Waiting in the Jeep? Well, go out there and get him.”
“But won’t your other patrons object?”
“What other patrons?” he asked. “Captain Moe’s is closed on Sundays.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll come back another day.”
“Nonsense. You’re here; I’m here. I imagine you’re hungry, or you wouldn’t have come.” He nodded toward the door. “Now go on out there and get that dog, and we’ll have some lunch.”
I hurried outside to get Angus. Upon entering the diner, Angus bounded over to Captain Moe as if the two were old friends. Maybe Captain Moe really was Santa Claus after all.
“Ah, you’re a fine-looking lad,” Captain Moe told Angus as the dog rolled over for a belly rub.
“Do you have any pets, Captain Moe?”
“Indeed I do. Four dogs and an ornery cat named Petey. They were all strays that came around looking for a handout and a bit of affection.”
I smiled. “It appears they came to the right place.”
“And yet here I am, flapping my jaws and letting you go hungry,” he said. “What would you like for lunch?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’d feel horrible if I imposed on you like that.”
“Then it’s a good thing this is not an imposition. How about I fry the three of us up some cheeseburgers?”
“Cheeseburgers would be wonderful. Is there anything I can do?”
“Do you have any quarters on you?” he asked.
“I think so.”
“Then get us some music to play on the jukebox. It’s too quiet in here.”
I went over to the jukebox and selected three of the most up-tempo tunes. Then, while Angus sniffed all around the dining room, I went into the kitchen to see if I could be of further assistance to Captain Moe.
He was standing at an industrial-size sink with his sleeves rolled up washing his hands and arms.
“Is there anything else I can do to help?”
“You can get washed up and get us some drinks, if you’d like. I’ll have a root beer.”
For some reason, I didn’t feel odd in the least to be milling around the kitchen with this person I’d just met. I watched Captain Moe put three hamburger patties on the grill. The kitchen instantly filled with the sizzle and aroma of frying beef.
“Are you Santa Claus?” I asked. “Or an angel? Is this where I get the ‘wonderful life’ lesson?”
He laughed. And, in case you’re wondering, it didn’t sound like Ho! Ho! Ho! But it was close.
“I’m only an old man with a soft heart,” he said. “When I came through those doors and into the diner, it was to tell whoever had come in that I was closed and only here doing inventory.” He grinned. “But there you were . . . a wee stray looking lost and alone.”
“Do I look that pitiful?” I asked with a laugh.
“Not pitiful.” He flipped the burgers before turning to give me a fresh appraisal. “Sad. As if you’re carrying the weight of the world on those tiny shoulders.”
Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them away. “I didn’t realize I was that transparent.”
“Like I said, I’m old. Besides, I’ve always been a good listener, so I’ve come to know certain signs.”
“Signs?”
“Of sadness, despair, love, happiness. Maybe I should have been a bartender.”
“Or a therapist,” I said.
“They’re not the same?” he asked, taking the burgers off the grill and placing two of them on sesame seed buns.
“Practically. But tending bar doesn’t pay as well.”
“You have a point.” He added cheese to our burgers. “Would you like the works?”
“Please.”
The works consisted of tomato, onion slices, pickles, lettuce, and generous dollops of both mayonnaise and mustard.
