by Sofie Ryan
“You found out who that investor is, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh.” He hesitated for a moment. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, remember?”
“I promise,” I said.
“The major investor in North by West is Swift Holdings.”
“You’re certain.”
“Absolutely. On paper the company is being funded by the Wellington Group, but that’s owned one hundred percent by Swift Holdings.”
Swift Holdings. Daniel Swift. Caleb Swift’s grandfather. Everything kept coming back to them.
“I’ve e-mailed you everything I could find about the Wellington Group,” Dad said.
“Thanks,” I said. “I have go.”
“Okay, sweetie. Stay safe. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I hung up and looked at Elvis. “Daniel Swift,” I said.
“Mrr,” he said. It was hard to tell if he was surprised or not.
I walked around the desk, sat down and pulled my laptop closer. Dad had e-mailed me a lot of background information on the Wellington Group, including the history of the company and its organization. I scanned the pages, not really sure what I was looking for. About halfway down the third page on the company’s corporate structure, a name caught my eye.
“No,” I said.
Elvis leaned around the computer as though he were trying to see the screen.
“Sloane Redding,” I said, touching the screen with a finger.
Elvis looked at me. Suddenly his whiskers twitched, and he jumped down from the desk and headed out into the hallway. I was guessing that Charlotte had opened the can of cookies she’d brought with her. Elvis not only had lying radar, he also had cookie radar.
I looked at the computer again. I’d been friends with a Sloane Redding in college. We’d lost touch after she spent a semester in Mexico as part of an exchange program. What were the odds that this Sloane was the same person? I crossed my fingers and pulled up a search engine.
For once, things were going my way. I found a photo from a benefit underwritten by the Wellington Group. Sloane Redding was in a group photo. Her hair was different and her clothing looked to be a lot more expensive, but it was the same person.
Was it really going to be that easy? Mr. P. hadn’t had any luck so far. Could I call Sloane and find out once and for all if the North Landing development had had anything to do with Lily’s death? There was only one way to find out. I scrolled up the screen and found the number for the Wellington Group in Boston.
“I’m sorry. Ms. Redding is in our North Harbor, Maine, office,” the young man who answered the phone told me.
The Wellington Group had an office here in town?
“Could you give me that number, please?” I asked.
“I’d be happy to,” he said. He read off a string of digits to me, and I wrote them down.
I leaned back in the chair and studied the numbers. Was this a wild-goose chase? Was I sticking my nose in where I shouldn’t be? Gram would have said, In for a penny, in for a pound.
I reached for the phone.
“Ms. Redding’s office. Charmaine Kellogg speaking,” the voice on the other end of the phone said when I reached Sloane’s office.
“Good morning,” I said. “Is Ms. Redding in? It’s Sarah Grayson calling about the North Landing project.”
“I’m sorry. Ms. Redding is in a meeting all morning,” Charmaine Kellogg said, her voice all smooth professionalism. “May I help you?”
“Thank you,” I said. “I have a business here in North Harbor. I was hoping to talk to Sloane about what’s going to be available as far as space in the project. We went to college together.” Strictly speaking, that was all true.
“I could give you an appointment to see Ms. Redding next week.”
I couldn’t wait until next week. “I’m sorry,” I said, “the only time I have available is eleven thirty this morning.”
I sounded a little pretentious even though I was telling the truth for the most part. On Tuesday Mac and I were going to look at a house with a garage and a couple of outbuildings just outside of town. The owner was in the hospital with a broken hip and would be coming out to an apartment. His son wanted an estimate for us to take care of emptying the house and readying it for sale.
“Eleven thirty will be fine,” Charmaine Kellogg said. I was already forming an image of the woman as someone sleek and elegant in a beautifully tailored business suit and dark-framed glasses. She’d probably turn out to look nothing like that.
“Do you know how to find our office?” she asked.
“No. I don’t,” I said.
She gave me directions, and I realized that the Wellington Group was in the same building as North by West’s North Harbor office.
Interesting.
I went back downstairs. Charlotte was showing a customer the chair that had been in my office a few days ago. Mac was out back at the workbench.
“Mac, did you remember the other day when Charlotte mentioned the Wellington Group as a possible investor in North Landing?” I asked as I walked up to him.
He put down the sanding block he’d been using. “I remember,” he said. “They invest primarily in real estate on the East Coast.” His dark eyes narrowed. “You think they are involved in the development here?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I have an appointment with Sloane Redding at eleven thirty.”
“I don’t recognize the name,” he said.
I didn’t bother telling him that I did. “You can manage things here?”
He smiled. “Take as much time as you need.”
Since the North by West office was just a few minutes’ walk from Jess’s shop, I called her to see if she’d like to have lunch.
“I’d love to,” she said. “I’m rolling a hem on an overskirt, and by lunchtime I’ll be cross-eyed.”
“I’ll stop for sandwiches,” I said. “See you later.”
Charlotte stuck her head around the storeroom door. “Mac, could you carry out a chair for a customer?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
Since Charlotte was busy, I decided I might as well start the ironing. I’d just plugged the iron in when Rose and Mr. P. came in the back door.
“Hi, Rose,” I said. “I thought you were taking the day off.”
“I was,” she said, “but Alfred and I have learned a little more about Caleb Swift.” She looked at her watch. “Liz should be here in a minute.”
Mr. P. was already getting settled at his desk.
“I’ll just go put the kettle on,” Rose said.
I wondered if they were the only detective agency in the world that seemed to run on tea.
I had time to iron two lace-edged tablecloths before Liz arrived. We all gathered around Alfred, with the exception of Mac, who was waiting on a customer.
“So what did you find out?” Charlotte asked.
Rose and Mr. P. exchanged a look and he spoke first. “Well, it seems that young Mr. Swift wasn’t quite the young man of character he seemed to be on the surface.”
I thought about Elspeth calling Caleb the proverbial, entitled rich kid. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“I talked to three young women he dated. At first they were rather noncommittal, but eventually they opened up.”
Rose smiled at him. “Alf has a very nurturing way about him,” she said.
“They all told me the same thing,” Mr. P. said. “Caleb Swift had a very dark, possessive streak. One of the girls told me that Caleb smashed the screen of her laptop because he thought her history professor was flirting with her. Another told me that she was up late studying and discovered Caleb was sitting outside her dorm room in his car.”
Charlotte shook her head wordlessly.
Liz held up a hand. “So how exactly does this help us figure
out who killed Lily? Do you think Caleb Swift’s been alive all this time and suddenly decided to come back and kill Lily?”
“It’s not impossible,” Rose said.
“It’s not damn likely, either,” Liz countered.
I couldn’t help noticing the tight lines around her mouth.
“It’s one more piece of the puzzle,” I said. I looked at Mr. P. “Any luck so far with the Wellington Group?”
He shook his head. “I’ll keep digging,” he said, turning back to his laptop.
I put my arm around Liz’s shoulder. “Let’s have some tea,” I said, starting toward the door into the shop.
“What makes you think I want a cup?” she said.
“I wasn’t asking,” I said. “What’s with you today?”
She brushed a curl of hair away from her face. “This is just ridiculous. Caleb Swift most likely fell off that sailboat of his and drowned years ago, and now Rose thinks he came back from the dead to kill Lily?”
I sighed. “Okay. I know that part isn’t very credible, but now we know something about Caleb Swift that we didn’t know before. Maybe it’ll be useful.”
“I don’t see how and I don’t care how nurturing Alf is. I don’t think we should be prying into those girls’ lives.”
“You’re right.” I gave her shoulders a squeeze. Charlotte had started dusting a set of bookshelves. “Charlotte, would you make the tea?” I asked. “Liz could use a cup.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said.
Liz reached over and laid her hand against my cheek. “I’m sorry I’m such a crabby old hag.”
I put my hand over hers. “Love you,” I said.
I walked over to Mac. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“I need to make a phone call,” I said. “Can you hold down the fort for a few more minutes?”
“Sure. I’ve got this,” he said.
I went upstairs to my office and closed the door behind me. Liz wasn’t being completely straight with me and I was pretty sure I knew why. I stared at the phone for what seemed like a very long time. And then I picked up the receiver.
Chapter 19
Elspeth Emmerson showed up about twenty minutes later. As always, she looked perfectly put together in knee-high caramel-colored boots and a pumpkin-colored coat, with her blond hair pulled back from her face on one side. Only the fact that she kept sliding a narrow gold and silver twist ring up and down her right index finger let on that she was nervous.
I walked over to her. “Are you sure about this?” I said.
She nodded. “Yes. It’s time for me to stop acting like I have something to be ashamed of.”
“You don’t,” I said.
There were no customers in the store. Charlotte was standing next to the rack Mac had mounted on the wall, hanging the tablecloths that were already ironed and talking to Liz. They both turned around at the sound of Elspeth’s spike heels on the wide plank floor.
“Hi,” Charlotte said with a warm smile.
Liz fixed her gaze on Elspeth, but her eyes flicked to me for a moment. “What are you doing here?” she said.
“I came to talk to Charlotte and Rose and everyone else about Caleb.”
“But you already told Sarah that you and Caleb went out for a short time.”
“I didn’t tell her everything,” Elspeth said.
Concern was etched into the lines on the older woman’s face. “I know this is painful for you,” she said quietly. “Why don’t you let me do this?”
Elspeth crossed the space between them and put a hand on her aunt’s arm. “I know you want to protect me,” she said. “But I’m okay. And why should I act like I have something to hide when I didn’t do anything wrong?” She turned to Charlotte. “Would you ask Rose and . . . and everyone to come out here, please? There’s something I want to tell everyone about Caleb Swift.”
Charlotte looked at Liz and then at me. “All right,” she said slowly. She headed for the back room. Liz didn’t say a word.
Elspeth waited until Charlotte had left the room. Then she focused her attention on Liz again. “This is all me, Aunt Liz. I can see it on your face. You’re angry at Sarah, and the person you should be angry with is me.”
Liz shook her head. “Why would I be angry at Sarah? The only person I’m angry at is young Mr. Swift.”
Elspeth put her free hand, clenched in a fist, against her chest. “I should have spoken up a long time ago about what Caleb did to me. What if . . . ?” She stopped, swallowed hard and looked away for a moment. “What if what happened to Lily is somehow connected to him? If I’d gone to the police, maybe Lily would—”
“No.” Liz and I both said the word at the same time.
I shook my head. “What happened to Lily has nothing, nothing to do with you,” I said.
Liz grasped Elspeth’s forearms with both her hands. “It is not your fault that Lily is dead,” she said. “Do you understand me?”
After a moment Elspeth nodded. Rose came out of the workroom then, followed by Mr. P. and Mac. She came right over to Elspeth and gave her a hug.
“Charlotte said there’s something you wanted to tell us about Caleb Swift,” she said. She studied the younger woman, concern etched in the lines on her face.
“There is,” Elspeth said. She cleared her throat, and when she spoke again, her voice was stronger. “Caleb and I went out a few months before he started seeing Lily. At first things were wonderful. He was charming and very attentive. He wanted to spend every minute with me.” She paused for a moment. “But soon he didn’t understand why I had to keep going to my study group and why I was applying for an internship that would take time away from him.” She continued to twist the ring on her right hand.
“Take your time,” Liz said gently.
“One night I canceled a date with him because my economics prof had dumped a surprise test on the class and a bunch of us had decided to get together and study. Caleb was waiting outside the library when I came out. I told him it was creepy and he should go home. He grabbed my wrist . . . and . . . and he broke it.”
“Oh my word,” Rose whispered.
“The reprobate,” Mr. P. said, the furrows between his eyes deepening.
“I snuck out of my dorm room in the middle of the night like I was the criminal,” Elspeth continued. “I came to Liz because I knew she wouldn’t push me to tell her what happened. Then I called Caleb and told him if he ever came near me again, I would tell her what he’d done. A few weeks later he started seeing Lily. I, uh . . .” She cleared her throat again. “I went to see her. I told her what Caleb had done to me. She told me he wasn’t that kind of person with her and asked me to leave. When he disappeared, well . . . I’ve always wondered if she knew more than she was saying about what happened to him.”
Rose immediately wrapped Elspeth in another hug. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
Charlotte reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “It’s brave of you to tell us,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I should have been braver sooner,” Elspeth said. “I didn’t tell Aunt Liz what happened for a long time, and when I did, I made her promise not to tell anyone else.”
A look I couldn’t decipher passed over Charlotte’s face. “You’re braver than I am,” she said.
We all looked at her. She looked at each one of us, a grave expression in her brown eyes. “My first year of teacher training, I had a boyfriend a lot like Caleb Swift,” she said. “He didn’t break my wrist. But he did hit me.” She stopped and pressed a hand to her mouth. Elspeth reached out and caught her hand, and something passed, unspoken, between the two women.
“I’ve never told this to another living soul,” Charlotte said.
“You could have told us,” Rose said gently. “We know it’s not your fault.”
“It
was hard to say this happened to me,” Elspeth said. “I’m supposed to be smart.”
Charlotte nodded. “I know.”
“It has nothing to do with smart,” Mr. P. said. “I’m sorry this happened to both of you.”
“Thank you, Alfred,” Charlotte said.
Elspeth took a deep breath and let it out. She seemed a bit lighter somehow. “There’s one more thing,” she said.
“What is it?” Rose asked.
“The night Lily was killed? Maybe it doesn’t mean anything, but that was Caleb Swift’s birthday.”
Before Elspeth left, Liz came over to me. I remembered what she’d said the day we’d had tea at her house: “I protect the people I care about.”
“You should have told me she was coming here,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“She asked me not to.”
“You really think I would have tried to talk her out of telling everyone what happened?” One eyebrow went up.
“No, but it wasn’t my call,” I said. “I asked Elspeth if Caleb had been abusive, because I noticed how protective you got when his name came up, but it was her idea to come and tell everyone what happened to her. She asked me not to tell you, and I didn’t. She thinks you feel guilty for not going after Caleb at the time.” I pulled hand over my neck. “You do, don’t you?”
Liz looked at me for a long moment. “I didn’t know for sure,” she finally said. “I suspected, but I wasn’t positive. Like she said, it was a long time before she told me everything.” She looked past me out the big front window and then her gaze came back to me. “I should have pushed. I definitely shouldn’t have agreed to keep it all a secret. I should have strung that young man up by his . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence.
“You took care of Elspeth,” I said. “That’s what needed to be done.”
Liz looked over to where her niece was standing with Rose and Charlotte. “It was good for her to talk about what happened,” she said. “She doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of.”
I nodded. “No, she doesn’t.”
“I need to talk to her before she goes.”
I gave Liz’s arm a squeeze as she passed me.
