Telling Tails

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Telling Tails Page 11

by Sofie Ryan


  The place was already three-quarters full and I knew by the time the band was ready to play there wouldn’t be an empty seat in the house.

  “You’re early,” Sam said as he walked me over to a small table with a RESERVED sign on it. “You want supper?”

  I nodded. “Please.” My stomach growled loudly for emphasis.

  “How about spicy chicken and noodles?”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “Do you want to wait for Jess?” Sam asked.

  I patted my stomach. “No.”

  He grinned. “I’ll put your order in.” He turned toward the kitchen and then turned back to me. “I almost forgot. I heard what happened. How’s Rose?”

  “She’s fine,” I said. “I’ve been trying to get her to take it easy.”

  Sam laughed. “That’s a fool’s errand.”

  I laughed as well. “Tell me about it. She either pretends she can’t hear me when I tell her to sit down or she plays the I changed your diapers card.”

  “I’ll have to remember that one,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’ve never changed a diaper in your life.”

  He nodded in agreement. “But I have fed you smushed-up peas and I have the photos to prove it. Who knew smushed-up peas could also be used as hair gel?”

  “One of these days I’m going to find those pictures,” I warned, shaking a finger at him.

  Sam just laughed again. “Are you driving?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I am. It’s raining. Why?”

  “We have an amber ale from that new microbrewery, Grimcross. I just wanted to get your opinion.”

  “Ask Jess,” I said. “She’d be happy to tell you what she thinks.”

  “Good idea,” Sam said. “Tina will bring your order when it’s ready.” He headed for the kitchen.

  I’d just picked up my fork when Jess slid onto the chair beside me. “I was not meant to live near the water,” she said, shrugging out of a red raincoat, which she draped on the back of the chair.

  “Hello to you, too,” I said. “And why were you not meant to live near the water?” I knew Jess didn’t really mean that. She loved being close to the ocean. She wasn’t as fanatical about sailing as Mac was, but she liked to go out a few times each season on one of the big schooners that called the harbor home. I teased her that she’d been a pirate in a past life.

  Jess put a hand to her hair. “This,” she said.

  “Your hair looks good,” I said. She was wearing it back from her face in a loose braid.

  “Well, it was like wrestling with a bear to get it to do anything.” She held up her hands about three feet apart. “When it’s humid, it gets this big.” She peered at the bowl in front of me. “That smells fantastic. What is it?”

  “Spicy chicken and noodles,” I said, taking a bite.

  “Ooo, I want some,” she said.

  I darted my eyes sideways to look at her.

  “Don’t worry,” Jess said. “I’m not crazy enough to try and take food away from you.” She looked around the pub, and then I saw Tina making her way across the room toward our table.

  I had no idea how Jess did it, but she was always able to get the attention of servers, bartenders and sales associates wherever we were.

  “What could I get you?” Tina asked when she reached the table.

  “I’ll have what she’s having,” Jess said, pointing to my bowl, “with a fried egg on top.”

  “What is it with you and fried eggs?” I asked after Tina was on her way to the kitchen.

  Jess shrugged. “I like them as long as I don’t have to eat them by themselves.” She reached over and swiped a breadstick from my plate.

  “I saw that.”

  “I know,” she said before taking a huge bite.

  “How was your day?” I dipped the end of the remaining breadstick in the spicy sauce in my bowl.

  “Good. Lots of tourists in the shop. No bus tours, but there was a group of people in camper vans traveling together. Did you get any of them at your place?”

  I nodded.

  “Hey, I saw Josh. He told me about Rose. Is she all right?”

  I set down my fork. “She’s fine. I think her head is harder than a cement block. How did Josh know?”

  I had known Josh Evans since we were kids. He was a lawyer and had come to the Angels’ rescue more than once.

  Jess shrugged. “His mother’s working for Liz now, remember?”

  Jane Evans had worked for Daniel Swift, who was descended from the original family that had founded North Harbor, at Swift Holdings. Liz had persuaded her to come work for the Emmerson Foundation, Liz’s family’s charitable foundation.

  “Liz probably told Jane,” Jess continued. “She told Josh. You know how those things work.”

  Tina came back then with Jess’s order, including a bottle of the amber ale Sam had mentioned to me.

  “Sam wanted your opinion on that,” I said, indicating the tall green bottle.

  Tina smiled. “On the house.”

  “I can do that,” Jess said with a smile.

  We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, Jess wordlessly handing over one of her breadsticks. “So is Nick coming?” she asked.

  “As far as I know.”

  “Do you want me to remember a previous engagement and make myself scarce?”

  I frowned at her. “Why would you do that?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “So the two of you can have a little alone time.”

  I looked around at the rapidly filling room. “Because this is such an intimate romantic place,” I said.

  “Hey, I was just trying to nudge you two along a little,” Jess said.

  I rolled my eyes at her.

  “Are you at least going to kiss him again? And I don’t mean that little peck-on-the-cheek thing you do, which is more like kissing your brother.”

  “We’re not talking about kissing Nick or my brother.”

  Jess opened her mouth to say something and I held up a hand. “Not. Doing. It.”

  She laughed. “Well, at least tell me if the earth moved when you kissed Nick.”

  “You’ve been watching Outlander again, haven’t you?” I said.

  “Love me some Jamie Fraser,” Jess said. “I wouldn’t mind kissing him.”

  I shook my head and bent over my bowl again.

  “So have you figured out exactly what happened to Rose yet?” she asked after she’d devoured about three-quarters of her noodles and chicken. She’d tucked one leg underneath her and was leaning against the back of her chair, drinking the beer straight from the bottle.

  I sighed and shook my head. “Not really.” I explained what Rose had seen, what Michelle thought had happened and how I’d noticed the needle mark on Rose’s neck, which had resulted in Nick taking the blood sample.

  “So what do you think?” she said. “Do you believe Rose actually did see someone dragging that guy’s body?”

  “I think she saw something. I just don’t know what. You know Rose. She’s not above taking a little dramatic license to get what she wants, but she wouldn’t make this up and she didn’t have a stroke. First of all, they checked her out at the hospital, and second, she’s as healthy as a horse. Her blood pressure is lower than mine.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think Leesa Cameron killed her husband, assuming that he’s really dead.”

  I pushed my empty dish away. “And that would be because?”

  “She’s been in the shop about half a dozen times,” Jess said. “And she just bought a vintage lace robe on Tuesday. It’s not the kind of sexy purchase a woman makes if she’s going to kill her husband the next day.”

  “True,” I said. “But it is the kind of sexy purchase a woman makes if someone other than her husband
is going to see her in it.”

  Jess made a face. “Good point. You think someone else was going to get a look at the goods, so to speak?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “I wish there was a way to find out.”

  “What are you drinking?” a voice said behind us. Nick was standing there.

  He really was cute, I thought, looking up at him as he shrugged out of his rain jacket. His hair was windblown, which made him look younger and less serious. He’d always had the kind of boy-next-door looks that made women swoon.

  Jess turned the bottle so he could read the label. “So what’s wrong with it?” he asked, snagging the third chair and pulling it closer to us before he sat down next to me. He smelled like Hugo, the aftershave he’d been wearing since high school, the aftershave he’d been wearing when I French-kissed him at fifteen.

  I shook my head. It wasn’t a good time to think about that.

  “Nothing,” Jess said. “It’s great—rich, warm with a hint of caramel.”

  “So why the face?”

  “We were talking about what happened to Rose,” I said. “Do you know if Michelle has managed to get a lead on Jeff Cameron?”

  “Not as far as I know,” Nick said. “What about Rose and her cohorts? Have they come up with anything?”

  Jess tried not to smile and took another drink of her beer.

  “They have a couple of theories,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

  “Are you going to tell me what they are?” Nick scanned the room but couldn’t seem to catch the eye of any waitstaff. Jess looked up, and just like before, Tina was suddenly on her way to the table. “How do you do that?” he said.

  “I’m cute,” she said with an offhand shrug. “And I tip better than you do.”

  Nick ordered a cheeseburger and our usual chips and salsa, which we had winter or summer.

  “And one of those?” Tina asked, pointing at the beer bottle in Jess’s hand.

  Nick made a face. “Sadly, I’m on call. Just coffee.”

  “Good choice,” she said. She looked at me. “Another decaf?”

  “Please,” I said.

  “And one for me, too, please,” Jess added.

  “It shouldn’t take long,” Tina said.

  Nick leaned an elbow on the table. “So tell me, what are the Angels’ theories about where Jeff Cameron is?”

  “I’m not answering that question,” I said. “It’s just going to make you crazy if I tell you.”

  He gave me that little boy smile that after all the years of using it on me shouldn’t have worked so well but often did. “Oh, c’mon, Sarah. Give me a break. I’m trying. I didn’t say one word to Rose about getting involved in this case.”

  “Seriously? You didn’t?” Jess said, skepticism clearly in her expression and her voice.

  He turned to look at her, narrowing his brown eyes. “You’re not helping.”

  She pointed a finger at his face. “It’s so adorable how you think I was trying to.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she managed to keep it in check.

  A different server appeared at the table with Nick’s coffee, along with a pot of decaf and a heavy stoneware mug for Jess. I waited until he’d filled both of our cups before I answered Nick. “Okay,” I said. “Rose and the others actually have two theories and they’re working on both of them. One is that Leesa Cameron killed her husband.”

  “I thought she has an alibi.”

  “Alibis can be faked,” Jess said, adding cream to her mug.

  “Yes, Leesa Cameron has an alibi, but it’s just the word of one person at the moment,” I added.

  “What’s the other theory?” Nick asked.

  I hesitated, reaching for a packet of sugar to buy a bit of time.

  “Oh, c’mon, Sarah,” he said. “Tell me.”

  “Jeff Cameron faked his own death,” I said flatly.

  I waited for him to laugh. To my surprise he just nodded.

  “Wait a minute, you’re not going to tell me how preposterous the idea is?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “Because it’s not. People have faked their deaths before. The problem is they tend to slip up in some way—they contact someone in their old life or their story makes the news and they get recognized. So if that’s what happened, there’s a good chance he’ll get caught.”

  Jess leaned sideways out of Nick’s line of sight and winked at me. I ignored her even though I was happy to see that Nick was trying to be less judgmental when it came to the Angels’ detective agency. He’d been blindsided when Mr. P. had met all the state’s requirements, become a licensed private investigator and taken Rose on as his apprentice. He seemed to think his mother and her friends should spend their time baking cookies and holding fund-raisers for the library.

  Tina came back with Nick’s food and the chips and salsa just as Sam and the rest of The Hairy Bananas came from the back and headed for the small stage. We didn’t talk after that, although more than once Nick and I did sing—along with a lot of other people—much to Jess’s amusement. Nick was actually a very talented guitar player and a couple of times had sat in for a few songs with the band. Anyone who could play was welcome to join the guys, although it didn’t happen very often. Sam had asked me to join them, but I hadn’t practiced in a long time and I’d never been as good as Nick anyway. I liked to play mainly because it made me feel closer to my dad. My guitar had been his, lost for years after his car accident.

  The band ended their first set with a rocking version of Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “Takin’ Care of Business.” Classic rock songs were the most popular with the pub’s clientele.

  Jess got to her feet. “I see someone I need to talk to. Do you want anything?”

  I shook my head.

  “How about you, Dr. Feelgood?” She nudged Nick with her elbow.

  “I’m good, thanks,” he said.

  I turned so I was facing him. “When are you going to bring your guitar and sit in with Sam?” I asked.

  He swiped a hand over his chin. “When I have some time to practice first.”

  “You know every single one of the songs they just played.”

  He grinned. “I’ll bring my guitar if you bring yours.”

  I shook my head. “No way. I don’t play nearly as well as you do.”

  “‘Peaceful Easy Feeling,’” he said. The Eagles song was the first one he’d taught me to play after I’d gotten my dad’s guitar.

  When I didn’t say anything he bumped my leg with his knee. “You could play that with your eyes closed.”

  “And I’ll sound like I’m playing it with my eyes closed,” I retorted.

  “I’ll bring my guitar over and we’ll practice it together.” He leaned closer. “It’ll be fun.” His breath was warm against my cheek and I could smell his aftershave. Catching the scent always seemed to take me back in time.

  It would be fun, I knew, playing with him again. Nick had finally agreed to come running with me, and the times we’d been out I’d laughed myself silly, mostly because he ran like a black bear chasing a picnic basket. “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  He straightened up and gave me a triumphant look.

  I waggled a finger in his face. “No, no, no! Don’t think you’ve won any kind of victory. I said I’d think about it. Think. That’s all.”

  He just kept grinning at me.

  “I’m changing the subject,” I said. “Any idea when you might get the results of Rose’s blood tests?”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” he said. “More likely it will be Monday.” He shrugged. “Once we get those results we’ll have a better idea of what happened to Rose.”

  “What would make someone set up another person for murder?” I asked, reaching for my mug.

  “Anger and revenge are the top two reasons.


  “As far as I know there was no reason for Jeff Cameron to feel that way about his wife,” I said. Jess was making her way back to the table.

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, that theory does have more holes than a colander, but like I said, once we get Rose’s blood work maybe we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on.”

  For a moment I couldn’t move. Then I carefully set my mug back on the table. It was that or break it over Nick’s head, and I knew Sam wouldn’t be happy about the latter. “What did you say?” I asked. To my surprise my voice sounded perfectly normal.

  “I said there are a lot of holes in the Angels’ theory,” he said.

  “No, you didn’t,” I said. “You said their theory had more holes than a colander.”

  Nick looked at me blankly. “Uh-huh. It’s the thing you drain spaghetti in. It has holes in the bottom.”

  “I know what a colander is,” I said.

  “So what’s wrong?” he asked. “Because I can see that something is.”

  What had Michelle said to me on the phone about that blood work? “Maybe that will clear things up.” Now I understood exactly what Nick’s agenda had been.

  Jess had reached the table, but instead of sitting down she stood by my chair. She was five-nine in her sock-covered feet, at least two inches taller in the heels she was wearing, and I felt as though I had a Valkyrie beside me.

  “At lunch today your mother said the same thing; their theory had more holes than a colander.”

  Nick flushed and his mouth twisted to one side.

  “She told you what to say to me.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  I raised my eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

  “Okay, she did suggest I not say that I think Michelle is probably right about Rose.”

  Jess groaned. “I swear, Nick, sometimes you’re about as smart as a bag of hammers.” She sat down, gave me a look of sympathy and rolled her eyes.

  Nick shook his head and gestured with one hand. “Both of you seem to be ignoring the fact that Rose could have had a stroke. A stroke. If she did, she needs to be under a doctor’s care.” He made a motion in the air between Jess and me. “You think you’re the only ones who care about her? Yes, when you called I’d already talked to Michelle. I saw a chance to have a couple of blood tests run to make sure Rose is all right. And yes, the toxicology tests are being done as well.”

 

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