by Sofie Ryan
Liz indicated the tray of tarts. “Have another one.” She took a sip of her tea. “As far as not telling her family about the money, I understand that. I’ve told Avery and her cousin, Derek, that I’ll pay their tuition when it’s time for college, but they have to figure out how to pay for everything else, and if they’re waiting around for me to die to get their hands on my money, they’re going to be waiting a long time because it’s all going to charity.”
“You’re tough,” I said.
She shrugged. “It’s been my experience that if people think they can get a free ride, they’re a lot less likely to work for something.”
“Why didn’t you tell us why you were having dinner with Channing? Or that you were having dinner with him?”
She reached for her tea, turning the cup slowly on the saucer. “Because right after I invited him I decided not to ask for his help. It felt as though I was using him—dinner with me in exchange for information.” She gave me a wry smile. “It’s an age-old transaction, but it made me feel uncomfortable.”
I’d known Liz all my life and she could still surprise me. “So what happened?”
“Channing had heard about what had happened to Rose. He offered to look into Jeff Cameron’s background. I told him he didn’t have to do that just because I’d invited him to dinner. There was no quid pro quo going on.”
“And?”
“And he’s a damn sneaky man.” She couldn’t keep a smile from pulling at the corners of her mouth, so I knew she wasn’t really angry. “He said there definitely was no quid pro quo because he’d arranged to take care of the bill and since I hadn’t paid for dinner I didn’t need to feel bad about accepting his offer of help.”
“I think he sounds like the perfect man for you,” I said, smirking at her.
Liz dipped her head in the direction of her plate. “I would throw one of those at you if it weren’t a waste of a perfectly good lemon tart.”
I laughed. “You’re going to have dinner again with him, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Miss Smarty-pants, I am,” she said. “And this time I’ll be buying dinner.”
I got up, got the teapot and refilled our cups. “Was your meeting Emmerson Foundation business?” I asked.
Liz nodded, cut one of the tart halves on her plate into two pieces and ate one of them. “It took a little longer than I expected. Like I said, I meant to tell you that I’d told Channing he could call you, and it just slipped right out of my head.”
I sat back down, added milk and sugar to my tea and leaned back in my chair, hands wrapped around the cup. “Avery said you’ve had a lot of meetings lately.”
Liz wasn’t one to prevaricate. “So it was you Friday, sitting in the line of traffic behind that moving van. I thought it was, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Why were you and Michelle together? And why keep it a secret?”
Liz’s mouth twisted to one side for a moment, and then she sighed. “You know Michelle is convinced someone framed her father?”
I nodded. Like me, Michelle had been a summer kid in North Harbor. Then her dad had gotten a job as the director for the Sunshine Camp. The Emmerson Foundation, the charity started by Liz’s grandparents, had bought the camp for kids with seriously ill parents. Rob Andrews had had the job less than a year when a routine audit showed there was money missing. He’d died in prison, less than three months after he’d been sentenced, from a fast-moving form of cancer that no one had known he had.
“She’s been looking for any kind of evidence that might clear his name.”
Liz nodded. “She asked for my help. She wants to take a closer look at the people on the board of the Sunshine Camp at the time.”
I set my cup down. “So why the secrecy?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She asked me not to tell you.”
For a moment I just stared at her. “She asked you not to tell me? I don’t understand.”
Liz reached over and laid a hand on my arm. “She asked me not to tell you because John was one of the board members at that time.”
My mouth actually fell open. “John? John Scott? Gram’s John?”
“Yes,” Liz said.
Gram’s husband of a year, John Scott, had been a history professor before he retired. “I didn’t know John had been on the board of the camp.”
“It was a long time ago. Almost twenty years now,” she said. “You know I introduced Isabel and John.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t think I ever told you that the reason I knew John was because he was one of Jack’s grad students.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know that.” Jack Kiley was Liz’s first husband.
“All through his teens he’d been a camp counselor. When we took over the Sunshine Camp he was just the kind of new blood I wanted on the board.”
I leaned forward, one arm on the table. “There’s no way John had anything to do with stealing money from the camp. You know him.”
Liz nodded. “Yes, I do. Which is partly why I told Michelle I’d help her. There isn’t going to be anything to implicate John because I know he had nothing to do with that money disappearing.”
I studied her face for a moment. “Do you think Michelle could be right?” I asked. “Is it possible someone framed her father?”
“At this point, I don’t know,” Liz said. “And that’s the other reason I said I’d help her—because I damn well want to find out.”
I finished my tea and headed home. I told Liz that I’d talk to Michelle and tell her I knew what they were doing. I was hoping she’d let me help. I hadn’t been the best friend I could have been when her father was convicted. Maybe now I could make up—at least a little—for that.
Chapter 19
I was still hungry when I got home. I made grilled cheese for supper, did a little work on the Web site and finally settled in with Elvis to watch Gotta Dance.
Drew Carey started with a recap of the previous week’s show, and as I watched, it was as if all the little details from the past week finally slid into place in my mind.
“I’m stupid,” I said to Elvis. He climbed onto my lap, walked his front paws up my chest and put his face close to mine. I had no idea whether it was supposed to be agreement or consolation. I kissed the top of his head and reached for the remote to mute the TV. Then I explained what I’d just realized to Elvis. The cat tipped his head to one side and listened, green eyes fixed on my face just as though he was weighing my reasoning.
“Should we go tell Rose and Mr. P.?” I asked.
He jumped down from the sofa and went to stand in front of the door. Before I could get up, someone knocked. When I got to the door, Mr. P. was standing there.
“I know who killed Jeff Cameron,” he said.
“So do I,” I said, wondering how he’d figured it out.
He smiled and inclined his head. “Ladies first, my dear.”
“There were two episodes of Gotta Dance last Wednesday night. I think Leesa called the Vega house during the second one, after Michelle and I had been to see her. She wasn’t at the cottage when Rose was assaulted, just like she always claimed.”
Mr. P. nodded. “That makes sense.”
“How did you figure it out?” I asked.
“Remote-access app.”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me.”
He smiled. “That’s all right, my dear. I’ll explain.” And he did in just two sentences. Then he gestured toward Rose’s apartment. “Rosie’s waiting.”
I held up a finger. “Hang on a minute.” I hurried to the bedroom for a moment, then came back. “I’m ready,” I said. At my feet Elvis made a rumble of annoyance and squeezed past our legs.
Rose was waiting in the kitchen. I held out the glass jar of muscle rub I’d grabbed from the bedroom. “Smell this.”
> She took the container from me, unscrewed the top and bent her head over it. Then she looked up, comprehension spreading across her face.
“Did that make you think of those tea chests?” I asked.
“Yes, it did,” she said.
“It’s anise,” I said. “The same thing you remember from those chests.” I took the jar from her. “I get this cream from a little place just around the corner from The Black Bear. I’ve been using it on my calf muscles after I run. It’s wonderful for sore muscles. You know what this means? We can prove who killed Jeff Cameron.”
Rose reached over to pat my cheek, a huge smile on her face. “Yes, we can,” she said. “And this calls for pie.”
I called Nicole Cameron in the morning. There were things she needed to know about her late sister-in-law before we did anything else. She said she’d be home all morning and I told her I’d stop by in about half an hour.
When I walked out to the SUV, Rose was in the front passenger seat and Mr. P. was sitting in the back. I opened the driver’s door, folded my arms over my chest and said, “No.”
Rose gave me a sweet and slightly condescending smile. “Sweetie, that didn’t work when you were four. It’s not going to work now.”
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go talk to Nicole with an audience,” I said.
“You’re not going without us,” Mr. P. said. “This is the last piece of the puzzle.”
I stood there wondering how I could get both of them out of the vehicle.
“You might be able to wrestle one of us out of the car, but you can’t take on both of us,” Rose said as though she’d read my mind, which I was starting to think might be a legitimate possibility. She smoothed the purple and silver scarf at her neck, the one she’d gotten from rocker Steven Tyler at a concert years ago. “I’m wearing my lucky scarf. Don’t fret, dear. Everything is going to be fine.”
I tapped the corner of my right eye with one finger. “You see these wrinkles?” I said. “You’re giving them to me.”
Rose leaned across the seat and squinted at me. “I think you just need to wear a little more sunscreen,” she said.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said darkly as I climbed in.
When we arrived at Nicole Cameron’s house, Bayley and her friends across the street were working on what seemed to be a scene with the out-of-control beach ball/snowball. When Deb caught sight of us, she walked to the bottom of the driveway.
“I just need a minute to talk to Debra.” Mr. P. tapped on my shoulder from the backseat. “I found a little piece of software that I think will work better with her security system. It’s the program I was telling you about,” he said.
Mr. P. and Mac were working on a new security system for the shop. They’d both laughed at my idea of the sound effect of a dog barking on a constant loop.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Rose and I will go talk to Nicole. We won’t be long.” We started for the front door. Jeff Cameron’s Jeep was parked in the driveway, wheels cut hard to the right.
Nicole had seen us and was waiting at the door in a flowered cotton skirt and a white tee. She led us into the living room, which was piled with boxes. A plate with a double-tipped cheese knife, half a pear and a chunk of cheddar sat on the coffee table. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she said, gesturing at them. “The rental company is pressing me to get Jeff and Leesa’s place cleared out.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “You have a lot to deal with. We won’t take much time.”
“I’m going to Boston,” she said. “I’ve already put in my resignation at the hospital. Jeff and Leesa’s apartment will have to be emptied and there are a lot of things to handle for their estates.”
“We understand,” Rose said. “I’m sure there are a lot of reminders here of what happened.”
Nicole nodded. “On the phone you said you had something for me.”
I handed her the box with the two candlesticks. “Your brother bought these the day he . . . died. They’re yours now.”
“Thank you,” she said. She turned the box over in her hands. “I still find it hard to believe Leesa did this. I thought she loved him.”
“Did Leesa tell you she’d hired a personal trainer?” Rose asked.
I shot her a warning look.
Nicole frowned. “No. She didn’t say anything to me. Why would she hire a trainer?”
“She wanted to run a half marathon,” Rose said.
“Jeff could have trained her for that.” Two frown lines appeared between her eyes. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you think this trainer could have killed my brother, not Leesa?”
Rose shook her head. “No, dear,” she said. “You did.”
Chapter 20
That wasn’t how I had planned things.
Everything seemed to happen next in slow motion. I moved toward Nicole, and at the same time she snatched the knife off the plate on the coffee table and grabbed Rose, pressing the serrated knife edge to the older woman’s neck. I came up short, one hand out in front of me in a stop motion.
“Don’t do this,” I said hoping she couldn’t see my arm shaking. I shouldn’t have let Rose and Mr. P. come with me. I should have taken a taxi. Or walked. Or tried to wrestle both of them out of the SUV.
“Back off,” Nicole said. Her voice was flat and cold.
I took a step backward and then another one, keeping my eyes locked on Rose’s face. She looked completely calm.
“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, reaching up to gently pat the arm that was pinning her tight to her captor’s body. “I shouldn’t have blurted that out. It was rude.”
I let my arm drop and tried to calculate whether I could rush Nicole before she could stab that knife into Rose’s neck. The math wasn’t in my favor.
“Do you mind if I ask about your grandmother?” Rose said. “You said she raised you.”
“Yes,” Nicole said.
“She must have loved you very much to take on that kind of responsibility.” She turned her head a little. “I have a grandson,” she continued. “The light of my life, and if anything happened to his mother and father I’d do the same thing. I couldn’t stand thinking about him being raised by strangers.”
Nicole’s eyes flicked away from my face for a moment. “That’s what Nana said. She said we were family and family sticks together.” Her face darkened and she tightened the arm around Rose’s chest.
“Your brother left when she died.”
I saw Nicole swallow hard. “I hate him,” she said, her voice suddenly raspy.
Rose sighed softly. “What did he do?” she asked.
She really wanted to know, I realized. She wasn’t stalling, trying to buy time. She really wanted to know what had driven Nicole Cameron to murder her brother and his wife.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Nicole said, so quietly I almost missed the words.
“It matters to you,” Rose said.
We stood frozen in place for what seemed like a very long moment. Then Nicole spoke again. “I had to go on a course, away, just for a few days, and Jeff said he would be around. Nana was taking beta-blockers for an irregular heartbeat but she was fine. She could have lived for a long time.”
“Oh, child,” Rose whispered.
“The doctor said she thought Nana had forgotten to take her pills.” A tear trailed down the younger woman’s cheek and she swiped it away with her free hand. “She wouldn’t have forgotten. There was nothing wrong with her memory.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. When she spoke again her voice was stronger. “The day she died, Jeff said she gave him some money and told him to go out and enjoy his life. But . . . but I know she wouldn’t have done that. She’d told me that it was time for Jeff to stand on his own two feet. And I knew she didn’t have any money. I think . . . think he replaced her pills with something else.”
“That’s horrible,” I said.
“It took me more than a year to settle everything,” Nicole continued. “I had to borrow money to have a funeral. I had student loans. I couldn’t keep the house. And I didn’t even know where Jeff was.” She was staring right at me, but it was as if she didn’t even see me. “He didn’t even show up for the funeral.” Her mouth moved and she swallowed. “It wasn’t until I was cleaning out the house that I found out about the money.” She looked at me. “You know about the money, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“It was gone. Every penny of it.”
“You’d been waiting a long time to get justice for your grandmother.” Nothing in Rose’s voice suggested she was in any kind of distress.
“I pretended I didn’t suspect anything,” Nicole said, and for the first time there was a hint of a smile on her face. “I pretended I was just happy to see Jeff when he came back. Nana always said patience is a virtue. When he told me he was planning on leaving Leesa, I knew it was time.”
“You set her up.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and managed to move a couple of inches closer to Rose.
“Do you have a dog?” Nicole asked.
I shook my head. “I have a cat. Elvis.” It seemed to have been the right answer.
“Dogs love you no matter what you do,” she said. “You kick them; you don’t feed them. They still love you. Leesa was like that—all blind loyalty to someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“It was you in the pink hoodie,” Rose said.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“What did you use for the body? I know it actually wasn’t your brother.”
A hint of the smile again. “A first aid mannequin I borrowed from the hospital. I’m strong. It was easy to pull it across the floor.”
“And easy for you to move Jeff,” I said. “When you did kill him for real.”
“You set me up to see the whole thing,” Rose said.
