“Well, no.” The admission came out reluctantly, as if it pained the librarian to admit it. “But I did point out to him that if the Chadwicks really did smuggle booze into the country during Prohibition, they must have had large storage areas somewhere on the property. Otherwise, where would they keep it? And I did know to tell him about that old tunnel you and Dan discovered, the one that used to run down to the edge of Ten Mile Stream.”
“How did he react to that information?”
“His eyes lit up like it was Christmas and his birthday and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.”
“Is there anything else you can remember about him?” Liss asked when Dolores fell silent.
“Not about him, no.”
Liss waited.
“As soon as he left, I went to the window.” She gestured behind her.
“Of course.” Liss sent her an encouraging smile.
“I watched him come out of the front of the building. There was a car parked at the curb, waiting for him. The driver was leaning against the hood, watching kids play on the merry-go-round in the town square. Widdowson got in on the passenger side.”
“He had a driver?” That was new. “Did you get a good look at him?”
Dolores shook her head. “Just a glimpse from above, but it wasn’t a him. It was a her.”
* * *
By the time Liss was certain Dolores knew nothing more about Lester Widdowson, she had to cross the town square at a jog to open the shop on time. It wasn’t that she expected much in the way of walk-in traffic, but it didn’t do to post business hours and not keep them.
She had plenty to think about as she checked on orders that had come in overnight and began her usual routine of packing and shipping. Dolores had never seen Lester Widdowson after that day, but she had been nosy enough to read up on him. She’d uncovered the connection to Cornwall Pharmaceuticals, quite possibly before Widdowson and the company parted ways.
Still, the only entirely new bit of information was that he’d been accompanied by a woman. Dolores believed she was a real estate agent, since Widdowson was looking to buy property. It sounded as if she’d been dressed like one. Most Realtors Liss had encountered went for the professional look—high heels and a power suit for the women. The anomaly in this case was that the woman had been wearing a hat. Dolores had been unable to see what color her hair was or get a glimpse of her face.
Liss counted on the bell over the front door to warn her if a customer came in while she was in the stockroom. She was not expecting anyone to rap on the small window in the back door. She was elbow-deep in bubble wrap when she looked up and saw Benny Beamer standing on the other side of the glass.
For a moment, Liss simply stared at her. The bright, mid-July sun turned her pale yellow hair almost colorless, what could be seen of it under a floppy hat designed to project the super-pale skin of her face. She must burn as badly as a redhead, Liss thought as she took off the security chain and unlocked the deadbolt. Once again, Benny wore a gauzy blouse with long sleeves and a high neck.
“Hi, there.” Benny’s greeting was bright and friendly. “Got a minute? I wanted to bring you up-to-date now that I’ve had time to go through the papers in that trunk.”
“You found something?” Liss couldn’t quite keep the anticipation out of her voice.
Benny sniffed the air. “Is that coffee?”
Resigned to playing gracious hostess in return for answers, Liss relocked the door. Benny eased herself onto one of the tall stools beside the worktable, watching as Liss filled two mugs and doctored each with a generous dollop of creamer and two packets of sweetener. She remembered how Benny liked it.
“I’ll just clear a space for those, shall I?”
Liss turned to find her uninvited guest shoving boxes and packing material aside with reckless abandon. When a ceramic bagpiper took flight, Liss barely managed to set Benny’s coffee in front of her and use her newly freed hand to catch the figurine before it hit the floor and shattered.
Oblivious to the damage she’d nearly caused, Benny lifted the mug and took a long swallow of hot coffee. Liss sent her an incredulous look before placing her own mug on the tabletop. Swiftly and efficiently, she finished wrapping the piper and settled it into its mailing carton. She shifted the box to another, smaller table where it would be safe until she had time to add the packing slip, seal the package, and affix a mailing label.
Choosing to stand beside the worktable instead of seating herself on the other stool, Liss took up a position directly opposite Benny. The other woman offered her a tentative smile.
“It turned out to be fascinating stuff, all those letters and papers, although not as interesting as the ledgers, but there wasn’t anything in them about treasure or a map. I want you to know that I went through everything with a fine-tooth comb.” Eyes big, voice earnest, she looked like a puppy waiting for approval.
“I appreciate that you tried.”
Benny took another sip of coffee, watching Liss over the rim of the mug. “I really wanted to find something. After all, who doesn’t love a good treasure hunt.”
“No treasure, I’m afraid.”
“No? From what little you told me the other day, I thought there must be something to find. Do you mean to tell me that you’ve already located the spot marked with the X?”
Liss couldn’t think of any reason not to answer. Benny already knew a good deal of the Chadwick side of the story.
“We did. There was a hidey-hole in a brick wall. Smallish.” She used her hands to indicate the size. It had been plenty big enough to hold a stolen chemical formula.
“That was the spot marked by the X?” Benny’s face fell. “Just a hole in a wall?”
“Looks that way.”
“What was in it?”
“Nothing. It was empty.”
“Do you think there had been something there?”
That was the million-dollar question. Liss settled for a vague answer. “Hard to tell.” She wondered if she should share the information Sean Widdowson had given her.
“Maybe someone used to leave love letters there,” Benny suggested.
Liss couldn’t help but smile. “Could be. Certainly nothing much larger would fit.”
Benny took another sip of the hot coffee and sighed. “Buried treasure would have been nice. Do you think it’s possible that something else could be hidden on the property?”
“Doubtful,” Liss said, but Benny’s question reminded her of that series of holes they’d discovered on both sides of the wall.
Had it been Aaron Lucas who’d dug them? It seemed obvious to her that he’d been the one after the map—the person who had ransacked their room in Antigonish and searched the Emporium and her house. She wondered if Sherri had managed to find out if he had been in Canada at the same time she and Margaret were there.
“Liss?”
Benny’s soft voice brought her back to the present with a start. “Sorry. Wool-gathering.”
Liss blinked and brought the other woman into focus, her gaze coming to rest on Benny’s fingers, tightly clasped around the coffee mug. Whatever she’d been about to say next flew out of her head.
The otherwise immaculate Benny had dirt under her fingernails.
Chapter Eleven
Liss burst into Sherri’s office at the PD only minutes after Benny left the Emporium. She’d had a tough time getting the other woman to go without letting on that anything was wrong. Then she’d had to wait until the coast was clear to dash across the town square to the municipal building. She was slightly out of breath by the time she skidded to a halt.
“You’ve got to investigate Benny Beamer,” she blurted.
Sherri looked up from the paperwork covering her desk, brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Because I think she’s the one who dug all those holes at the Chadwick place. She certainly didn’t get dirt under her fingernails from gardening! Not if she’s been staying at The Spruces.”
“Oka
y,” Sherri said slowly.
She didn’t look convinced, but Liss knew she’d take a look at Benny’s background anyway. “You’ll be able to find out if she went to Canada after the auction, right?”
“Yes, but it will take time. I still don’t know if Aaron Lucas was there.”
Liss sank into the visitor’s chair and scrubbed her hands over her face. “This is getting complicated. Before Benny showed up this morning, I was sure Lucas was behind everything. And then there’s what Dolores told me earlier today. I was going to tell you next time I saw you. It’s probably not that important, but it does back up what Sean Widdowson told us.”
“Slow down. Tell me what Dolores said.”
“But Benny—”
“Dolores first.”
While Liss did so, Sherri scribbled down notes.
“So Lester Widdowson was looking to buy a place with secret hiding places.” She leaned back in her swivel chair, thinking that over. “Combined with what you and Dan learned from Widdowson’s son, it adds up to the picture of a man with a fragile grasp of reality.”
“Does the map I found have to do with Widdowson or the Chadwicks?” Liss asked aloud. “I keep changing my mind about that. After all, the hiding place in the brick wall existed long before Widdowson came along.”
“That house was riddled with hidey-holes. Don’t forget the tunnel that went from the cellar to the banks of the stream, and wasn’t there a hidden panel in the living room, too?”
“I’d forgotten all about that one,” Liss admitted. “So who knows what other secrets there were, dating back to Prohibition and even earlier?”
“If there was anything else, it’s not there now. The wrecking ball took care of that when Jardine demolished the house.”
“He was awfully quick off the mark to get that done,” Liss murmured. “Maybe you should be looking into him.”
Sherri did not look enthusiastic about that prospect, but she was spared having to answer by the creak of the door in the outer room. The entire police station consisted of a small reception area, the office with its two desks and assorted file cabinets and communications equipment, and a miniscule holding cell that had originally been a closet. Footsteps were clearly audible as they crossed to the inner door, which stood open. After a tentative knock, a man stuck his head inside.
“Excuse me,” he said in a mellow baritone. “I’m looking for Chief Campbell. Is he in?”
“She is,” Sherri said.
Liss was quick to vacate the hard plastic visitor’s chair and settle into the marginally more comfortable wooden swivel chair behind the other desk. When Sherri beckoned, the man eased the rest of the way into the office, revealing himself to be a well-dressed gentleman of medium height and rigid posture. What there was of his thinning hair was mud-colored, but it was difficult to discern what shade his eyes were. They were hidden by thick glasses. Liss’s best guess placed him in his mid-forties.
“I’m Maurice Kelsey,” he announced, producing a business card.
Liss’s interest sharpened at the name. This was the man Sean Widdowson had told them about—the one Cornwall Pharmaceuticals had sent to talk to him about his father.
“Vice president, hmmm?” Sherri read his title off the card for Liss’s benefit. “What can I do for you, Mr. Kelsey?”
After a moment’s hesitation, he perched on the edge of the plastic chair, shoulders stiff and hands resting somewhat awkwardly in his lap. He ignored Liss. She imagined that he took her for a secretary, therefore dismissing her as unimportant. Let him enjoy his misconception, she thought, since it gave her an excuse to stay put and hear whatever he had to say to Sherri.
“I have been sent here to find out why you are looking for Aaron Lucas.”
Sherri’s eyebrows shot up. “Your company sent an executive all the way from Connecticut to Maine just because I was inquiring about an employee?”
“It involves a rather sensitive matter.” His fingers drummed on the knee of his perfectly tailored slacks.
Poor guy, Liss thought, although without any real sympathy. He was completely out of his element. She could almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
“I think you need to answer some questions for me first, Mr. Kelsey,” Sherri said. “Your Mr. Lucas may have followed a resident of my town into Canada. If so, it is possible he committed at least one crime while he was there.”
“Impossible!” Kelsey started to stand.
“Sit down!” Sherri snapped out the order in a voice that brooked no disobedience and Liss silently applauded.
Kelsey subsided into the chair.
“Bluster won’t do you any good. If Mr. Lucas was in your employ, acting on your company’s behalf, then you are liable for his actions.”
Liss was pretty sure her friend was bluffing, but she didn’t think Kelsey realized it. She pegged him as the type who underestimated women. Given Sherri’s small stature and the fact that she was a blonde, he had been unprepared for her to throw a bucket of cold reality his way. It took him a moment to recover from the shock.
He cleared his throat. “I do not know where Lucas is.” Hearing the note of desperation in his voice, Liss believed him. Even more telling was the way his shoulders slumped as he made the claim. That was one worried man!
“All right,” Sherri said, speaking more gently, “let’s try this. We already know that Lester Widdowson was employed by Cornwall Pharmaceuticals, that he was fired, and that there was a lawsuit pending against him when he died. Why don’t you tell me your side of the story?”
“The man was mad.”
“So I understand.”
Kelsey worried his lower lip. Then he took off his glasses, produced a handkerchief, and spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning lenses that already appeared to be perfectly clean. Sherri waited him out without fidgeting. Liss found it harder to sit still.
The glasses back in place, once again hiding eyes that had turned out to be a rather nice shade of blue, Kelsey wasted a few more seconds repeating the finger-drumming bit. At last, he spoke. “Lester Widdowson stole proprietary information from my company when he left.”
“Formulas he worked on?” Sherri asked.
“Well, yes, but he didn’t own them. We did. He’d become increasingly paranoid in the last few years he worked for us, imagining all kinds of conspiracies. He decided we were evil—his word—and that we intended to misuse the drugs we were developing. He got it into his head that if he stole the formulas and gave them to rival companies, they would be used wisely—his word again.”
“Did he succeed?”
“In walking off with company secrets? Yes. But as far as our investigation has been able to determine, he only persuaded one manufacturer to deal with him. Cornwall Pharmaceuticals has since sued that company to get our rights back.”
“What about the lawsuit against Lester Widdowson?” Liss asked, startling Kelsey. He’d forgotten she was there.
“It was dropped when he died.”
“Even though you also accused him of stealing a formula for an explosive?”
Kelsey’s eyes went wide. “Where did you hear that?”
“Does it matter? I want to know if it’s true.”
“That’s what he claimed, but I assure you the man was not rational. There is absolutely no evidence to suggest that he was working on anything that wasn’t medical in nature.”
“Let’s get back to the main point,” Sherri interrupted. “You dropped the suit. Does that mean you believe the matter is settled?”
After a brief hesitation, Kelsey shook his head. “Widdowson took one formula that might lead to a major breakthrough. A cure for a disease that currently doesn’t have one. I can’t say more than that, except that we are most anxious to recover it.”
“You couldn’t duplicate what he was working on?” Sherri looked skeptical but she kept her tone of voice carefully neutral.
“We’ve tried, believe me, but so far we’ve been unsuccessful.”
“Yes,” Sherri said slowly. “I gathered as much from the fact that you sent Aaron Lucas, from your security department, to the auction of the contents of Widdowson’s house here in Moosetookalook. He slipped up, letting a possible clue to the whereabouts of your missing formula go to another buyer. It’s what he did next that I’m investigating.”
“I know nothing about anything illegal!” Kelsey sprang to his feet and made tracks for the exit. “And you’d better be careful about flinging around false accusations, Chief Campbell!”
Liss half expected him to threaten to sue Sherri, or the town, or both, but he surprised her by turning tail and fleeing without another word. All the way back to Connecticut, she wondered, or would he book a room at The Spruces and stay a few days to see what developed?
By the time she turned to ask Sherri that question, her friend was already punching a number into the phone. From her end of the conversation, it was obvious that she’d called the hotel switchboard. When she disconnected a few minutes later, she was smiling.
“He’s registered?” Liss asked.
“He is. And all paid up for a three-day stay. I have a feeling I’ll be talking to Mr. Kelsey again before long. Now, back to what we were talking about when we were interrupted. Why do you think dirt under Benny Beamer’s fingernails proves she was the one who dug the holes at the Chadwick mansion?”
“What else could it mean?” Liss blinked, bewildered by the question.
“You’re overlooking one significant fact,” Sherri said. “The digging was done Saturday night. This is Tuesday. Do you really think she hasn’t washed her hands since then?”
* * *
Liss had put out the BACK IN FIFTEEN MINUTES SIGN before her visit to the PD. She’d been gone much longer than that. Although she doubted she’d missed much in the way of business, it went against the grain to take off willy-nilly. That was no way to stay in the black.
With her bottom line in mind, she took a short detour, stopping in at Angie’s Books before she returned to the shop and opened up again. Ten minutes later, Beth took over for her, leaving Liss free to go home, get her car, and drive out to The Spruces.
Moosetookalook’s turn-of-the-nineteenth-century grand hotel was well over a hundred years old. The building had long dominated the village’s skyline with its towers and cupola, and after renovations by Ruskin Construction, it once again offered first-class accommodations to travelers vacationing in Maine’s beautiful inland mountains. Liss’s aunt Margaret had been events coordinator for nearly ten years and had loved every minute of her second career. Dan still helped out when his father needed him. As a result, Liss felt right at home on the premises.
X Marks the Scot Page 14
