The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery)

by Victoria Abbott

  She hesitated. “I don’t want to interrupt. They’re vicious if you interfere with their fun.”

  I liked Flo. “Well, it’s a matter of life or death, if that makes a difference.”

  “Wait here.”

  A minute later a man in his seventies made his way toward me, guided by Flo. He was pleasant looking and must have been handsome in a Kennedy-like way in his younger years. He could still turn heads and the cane didn’t seem to make a difference.

  He looked at me quizzically. “Life or death?” He raised his eyebrows. “You seem a bit young for that.”

  “It’s not my life that’s at stake. And it’s a bit tricky too. I hope you can help.”

  He nodded. “You have my attention and my curiosity.”

  “I am investigating”—I put a slight emphasis on the word “investigating”—“a situation between Vera Van Alst and Muriel Delgado.” His head jerked. He knew them both, no question, and he was uneasy as soon as he heard their names.

  I plowed on. “The situation is taking on dangerous aspects and I need to ask you some questions.”

  Mr. Murphy turned to where Flo was standing, quite obviously listening to our conversation. He cleared his throat and Flo must have suddenly remembered that the salt and pepper shakers on the neighboring tables needed to be filled. She skittered away.

  “I can’t speak about either of them,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “They were minors. I was a teacher. It would not be ethical.”

  “But there was something serious that happened. I can tell by looking at you.”

  “It’s a long time ago. It’s not my affair.”

  “Well, it’s mine. Muriel has moved in with Vera Van Alst. She has separated her from her friends and employees. Does that concern you? I am probably the person who cares most for Vera Van Alst except for her cook. I have been fired. Vera is in bad health and vulnerable.”

  He blinked. And I knew it did concern him. He shook his head. “I can’t help you. If this is true and you are worried, I advise you to go straight to the police.”

  Did he emphasize “true” just slightly? I didn’t want to say that the police had been useless. In retrospect, maybe I should have. I also didn’t mention my hit-and-run. He didn’t comment on my bruised face.

  Mr. Murphy turned and walked back toward his laughing colleagues. I stepped up behind him and said, “As long as it’s not on your conscience.”

  He stopped, his back stiffened. Then he kept walking.

  I probably slumped as he continued without looking back.

  Flo drifted over, brimming with sympathy, her blue eyes bright. She glanced back toward where Mr. Murphy was taking his seat. He wasn’t smiling.

  “He won’t tell you. He’s a by-the-book guy. Straight as an arrow.”

  I stared at her. Of course. She was the right age. And she was very interested in our conversation. If there’s one thing I know it’s that nosy people can be great sources of information. I learned that at my uncles’ knees.

  Speaking of uncles, mine might have been conspicuously absent but they still could come in handy. After all, the ladies loved them and this was exactly their kind of place. Hot chicken sandwiches. Mmmm.

  “By any chance,” I said, leaning forward in a friendly manner, “do you know my uncle? I’m sure he’s mentioned you.”

  Her hand shot to her copper wings. A small smile hovered around her mouth. “Who’s your uncle?”

  “Mick. Mick Kelly. Michael J. Kelly is the official title, but everyone calls him Mick.” Except the police, of course, but I didn’t want to dwell on that.

  “Oh, Mick! Of course, I know him. He mentioned me, hon?”

  “Sure, that’s why I came here.”

  “You said you were looking for—”

  “Mr. Murphy, yes.”

  “Actually, you said Miss Murphy.”

  Caught. Oh well. “I might as well be straight with you. It was just because I need to get some information about two women and I heard that one of them was, and I quote, ‘Murphy’s cross to bear.’ I just assumed Murphy was a female teacher.”

  Flo snorted. “Sounds like Phyllis Zelman with a remark like that. She always calls him Murphy.”

  I said, “But of course, he couldn’t answer my questions. Confidentiality and all that. I have to respect it, but it leaves me in a bit of a tough spot.”

  “Hmm. How is Mick? We haven’t seen him here in a while.”

  I laughed, despite the pang in my heart. “Join the club. He’s very busy. Got a big project going.”

  “Something to do with antiques, I imagine.”

  I hope not, I thought. “Most likely,” I said. “Anyway—”

  “So tell him I say ‘hi’ and mention that we have a fish and chips special tomorrow. Even more special for our friends.”

  “Right,” I said. “So—”

  She glanced over toward Mr. Murphy, who wasn’t taking part in the lively chatter at the table. Instead he was gazing out the window with a furrowed brow, oblivious.

  “You sure got to him.”

  “I didn’t mean to. I just mentioned Vera Van Alst and Muriel Delgado and asked about their relationship in high school. That’s all it took.”

  “Why do you need to know?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t know Flo except I was willing to bet she couldn’t keep a secret. “It’s complicated,” I said. “And sensitive.” Of course, I didn’t want to alienate her. I added, “Did you know them? I think they’re quite a bit older than you.” Another thing I’d picked up from the Kelly uncles: shameless flattery will hardly ever fail you.

  She laughed and gave me a playful tap on the arm. “I can tell who you’re related to and yes, I did know them.”

  “Muriel and Vera?”

  “Yes, we went to school at the same time, not that either of them gave me the time of day. But I saw things.”

  “Did you?”

  “Oh yeah. I might not have been a brain like that Vera Van Alst, but I wasn’t stupid.”

  “And you probably had lots of friends.”

  “I did. People liked me, which is more than you can say for either—”

  “I bet they did. Here’s the thing. I used to work for Vera Van Alst, but a few days ago, Muriel Delgado moved in and I was fired. So I’m—”

  “What?”

  “I was fired.”

  “You said that Muriel Delgado moved in to Van Alst House.” Flo leaned against the counter and stared. “I can’t believe it. Did she have a gun?”

  “A gun? No . . . oh, you’re joking.”

  “I guess that wasn’t funny.”

  “I think Vera is in danger, so can you tell me why you reacted that way?”

  “Because they hated each other, at least at first. Well, Vera just had her nose in the air. She probably didn’t hate Muriel, but she wouldn’t give her the time of day. Mind you, she didn’t give anyone the time of day. I guess that changed afterward and they became friends. Muriel was a strange girl, and what a little snob that Vera was! And that was after the factory going under all because of her father and his mismanagement.”

  “She hasn’t changed much.”

  “You worked for her?”

  “I did. And in spite of her, um, personality traits, I’m really fond of her. She was a good boss. She’s also a lonely soul. Now I am worried.”

  “You should be. Muriel was a piece of work.”

  At that moment a cluster of retired teachers got up and signaled. Flo made her way to the cash register.

  I ducked outside to check on the dogs, who were happily cadging treats and getting ear scratches from everyone who walked by. “Won’t be long, lads,” I said. “I think I’m onto something.”

  I headed back in and looked around for Flo. She was bending ov
er listening intently to Mr. Murphy. I waited until the bills were taken care of. When I approached, she didn’t make eye contact. Bad sign.

  “You were saying?” I gave her my most encouraging smile.

  “I can’t really remember much. It’s been a long time since I saw either one of them. We were stupid kids. I’m sorry if I gave you any other impression.”

  I felt a tingle on my neck. I turned to find Mr. Murphy’s eyes on me. There was no point in attempting to bully poor Flo. She was obviously fond of the former teacher and he’d given her a hard time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  OUTSIDE THE HUDSON Café a couple of the regulars thought they might have recognized the Rileys. They didn’t remember where or how or why they recognized them. As I was finishing my questions, Lainie rushed out of the restaurant and gave me a huge bear hug. “I heard.”

  “Heard what?”

  She blinked, brushed back her elegant silver hair. “That you’d been hit by a truck, of course. Oh my God, your poor face! Those bruises.”

  “Was it on the news?”

  “I didn’t hear it on the news, but Jasmine from the pet shop came in for a cake a couple of minutes ago and she told me. She said you’d been in this morning.”

  “Right. I went there before I saw Phyllis at the Food Drop.”

  “Should you be walking around?”

  I said with a grin, “A slice of your caramel cheesecake might make everything better.” For a moment I debated picking up a couple of double-chocolate mocha brownies with truffle icing, the signature treat at the Hudson Café. So many treats, so little time.

  “I shouldn’t have said that about your face, Jordan. I was just alarmed about the bruises. You’re as pretty as ever and the blue will match your eyes. And I will prove that I am sorry by giving you the entire cake.”

  “What? No, Lainie. How are you going to make a go of it if you give away your cakes?”

  “We love you. You bring in your friends. You get hit by trucks. We want to keep you alive.”

  Lainie was so warm and charming and we were so lucky to have her in our lives. I smiled. “Well. I guess I could accept some cake in that case.”

  “You have to take it all. No more arguments. Save it for what matters.”

  She took my arm and propelled me, arm in arm, into the café. I tried not to think that I was usually there with my best friends, now among the disappeared. Still, I had friends left, like Lainie.

  “What’s that?” She gestured to the photos I was carrying.

  “Oh, almost forgot. Do you know either of these guys?”

  She squinted and paused. “I think I do. They look like a couple of landscapers who did some work for my neighbor last summer. Why?”

  “They may be the guys who hit me.”

  She bit her lip. “Whoa. Maybe you shouldn’t be flashing their pictures around. Did you tell the police?”

  “I’m not sure I trust the police.”

  Her eyes widened. “But aren’t you dating that cute blond officer?”

  “He’s out of town. I’m on my own except for my uncle, who is like having the Three Stooges conveniently colocated in one body. Oh, and I have the dogs too.” I didn’t mention Cherie. She was too hard to explain.

  “The Three Stooges in one man?” Lainie hooted with laughter before turning to a pair of passing servers and asking me to show the photos.

  They both shook their heads.

  Lainie looked worried as I left with my entire—that’s right, entire—caramel cheesecake. “Please be careful. I will talk to my neighbor. If I remember correctly, it wasn’t a happy situation with them. I’ll call you with whatever I find out.”

  I gave her my cell number and a thankful hug. I promised to come in for a meal soon. Then I collected the dogs and headed home, not much wiser than when I left.

  I was stepping out of the restaurant, carrying the cake in a large cardboard box and wondering how I could manage to carry it home while hanging on to two uncoordinated dogs of different sizes and traveling speeds. Just out the door, I spotted something that made me gasp. I stepped back into the restaurant and bumped into Lainie again.

  “What is it?” she said. “You’re white as a sheet.”

  “There’s a cop working his way down the street.” We peeked out, just in time to see Jones enter the Poocherie. “He’s the one who gives me really bad vibes. I think he might be connected with the Rileys. I don’t trust him at all.”

  Lainie stared at me. “Really? Like a crime show on television when there’s a corrupt cop and nobody knows?”

  “Except this is real. Don’t tell him I was looking for the Rileys.”

  She put her hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye. “Maybe you shouldn’t be looking for them. Maybe you should find a friend and just go visit for a while. Out of town. You’re in between jobs. Take advantage of it. Fly, little birdie.”

  “Well, I would fly but now I have this big cake to eat. Afterward I’ll be too heavy for liftoff.”

  “Cute.” She chuckled. “If you won’t be sensible, be careful. And remember, you’re not alone with just your Stooge uncle. You can call me any time.”

  I felt tears welling. I hate that. “Thanks.”

  Lainie’s patients must have been very lucky when she had her practice in Manhattan. Now we were fortunate to have her healing presence and her great food in Harrison Falls. I got out of there before I started to blubber.

  The dogs and I turned the first corner we could and scuttled back to Michael Kelly’s Fine Antiques. Once there, I put the cheesecake in the fridge and gave the cats their Blue Wilderness. I thought I heard them ask for Cheez-Its, but surely not.

  I made sure the cats were contained on Uncle Lucky’s side and then left the dogs in charge of security. I made tracks for Maple Street with my photos.

  * * *

  I CALLED UNCLE Kev. He answered immediately in a whisper.

  “Bo Peep,” he said.

  “How are things?”

  “You mean how are things, Eagle.”

  I sighed.

  “Not so good. The signora is in a bad state. She’s cooking all the time, but you know that Muriel won’t eat Italian food. The freezers are jammed and the signora’s still at it. Even the freezers in the kitchen refrigerators are stuffed with ravioli. The good stuff! Muriel won’t even look at it and I heard her complaining to Vera.”

  “Well, we’re working on the Muriel problem and I need you to do some—”

  “Anything you need. I’m yer man.”

  “Right. So just please listen to me and don’t inter—”

  “I never interrupt.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I need you to go to George’s Diner and talk to a waitress called Flo. Try to find out what happened between Muriel and Vera back in high school. Flo was there at the same time. And make sure that you get her alone. There’s a retired teacher named Mr. Murphy who knows something. He says it’s unethical for him to talk about them. He doesn’t want Flo talking either, so stay out of his sight.”

  “The diner’s not that big. If you’re there, you’re in sight, Jordie.”

  “Yes, I found that out the hard way. Stay sharp.”

  “I have an idea.”

  My common sense told me not to let Uncle Kev go with any of his “ideas,” but as they say, beggars can’t be choosers.

  “Just find out what people said about them. Gossip is fine. We want to know if Muriel had a hold over Vera. Apparently, at first they hated each other, oh, and Vera was a snob.”

  “There’s a shocker,” Kev said with a chortle.

  “Dig deep, Kev. We need to uncover what explains this bizarre hold Muriel has.”

  “Will do, Bo Peep. Over and out.”

  “Wait a minute! While you’re there, ask around about the Rileys. Did you get t
he photos from Cherie?”

  “She’s great, isn’t she? In fact—”

  “Kev? Focus. We’re pretty sure the Rileys hit me with their truck. I’m really not going to feel safe until I know where these guys are.”

  “On it!”

  “And Kev.”

  “Yes, Jor—Bo Peep.”

  “Be careful.”

  * * *

  TOM WAS PUTTERING outside when I arrived. As usual, the Snows’ yard was immaculate. He seemed thrilled to see me. I sauntered over, keeping an eye out for rogue trucks as I went.

  “Mindy will be thrilled. She’s just made a big batch of pumpkin spice muffins for Thanksgiving. Cream cheese icing too. They’re the best things ever, except for her pies. Why don’t you come in for a bite?”

  Ha. I’d barely had time to drop off the cheesecake. Was it my day for baked treats or what? If I hadn’t thought my life was in danger, I would have been a happy camper. I cheerfully followed Tom.

  I was disappointed that neither of them recognized the men in the photos.

  “I don’t think so,” Mindy said, frowning.

  “Can’t be sure,” said Tom. “The truck was moving so fast and we were just coming out the door. What we saw was you flying through the air. Want to try the muffins? They have dried cranberries and candied pumpkin seeds.”

  Mindy said, “Everyone loves them so I have to bake a lot for the holidays.”

  Tom glanced at her. A look of intense sadness passed between them. What was I missing?”

  “One or two?” Tom said to me. I noticed that he patted Mindy’s shoulder gently as he spoke.

  Who was I to say no?

  It was a different story at Audra’s house. The kids were playing happily with her kitchen pots when she answered the door. Her smile faded when she saw me.

  “It will just take a minute,” I said. “No pressure. I’ve been to see the Snows. They sent you these amazing pumpkin muffins. Can I come in?”

  In spite of the muffins, I sensed she wanted to say no. I solved that problem by stepping through the door, smiling broadly and trying to give her a hug. “I owe you so much.”

  She dodged my hug. “Mindy’s always sending food. She’s such a good cook and it’s a real shame that—”