Only when she was certain Glenora would not spit the pill back out did she release her. Turning her back, Glenora flipped her tail at Liss and headed for her food dish. Liss sighed. If she gobbled her kibble too fast, the food would come right up again—and the pill along with it.
“Want a beer?” Dan asked, taking one out of the refrigerator for himself.
She was tempted, until the image of an inebriated Moose Mayfield popped into her head. “I don’t think so. Besides, I need a clear head when I talk to my father.”
Mac MacCrimmon was joining them for supper before he headed south to meet Liss’s mother at the airport. Vi’s flight was scheduled to arrive in Portland around ten-thirty.
Liss was always happy to spend time with her father, but that evening she had an ulterior motive for wanting his company. She waited to ask her questions until after they’d finished eating a hearty meal of baked chicken, fluffy rice, and broccoli.
First on her agenda was the funeral. Mac surprised her by announcing that the police had already released Charlie’s body. He’d arranged for the mortuary to hold it while he decided what to do about his brother’s burial. Charlie already had a tombstone in the local cemetery. It just had the wrong date on it.
“I talked to Moose Mayfield about Uncle Charlie today,” Liss said.
“Did you?” Mac didn’t seem surprised, but then he’d known Charlie and Moose used to be friends.
“He told me an interesting story. Did you know Charlie and Thea dated for a while?”
Dan, who had just cut wedges of chocolate cream pie for their dessert and was carrying them over to the table, bobbled the plates and very nearly dropped one of them. “Thea Campbell? Seriously?”
“Dad?”
Frowning, Mac took the plate Dan extended toward him. “I didn’t pay much attention to the girls Charlie dated. There were a lot of them.” He sounded forlorn when he added, “He was the big man on campus. I was the nerdy one, the one who wanted to take over the family business, even though I was the younger son. Charlie couldn’t have cared less about the Emporium.”
“But you must have met Thea after she married George Campbell and moved to Moosetookalook, and George was one of Moose and Charlie’s pals. Didn’t you ever hear anything about her and your brother?”
He shook his head. “If I did, I’ve forgotten. It was a long time ago, Liss.”
Liss glanced at Dan and got a lifted eyebrow in return. Clearly, her father didn’t want to talk about his brother, let alone discuss any romantic involvements he might have had. She hated to pressure him, but what he knew might be important.
“Moose also mentioned hanging out with someone named Billy, and with a guy he called ‘Greaser.’ Any idea who they are?”
“Not a clue. Charlie had his friends and I had mine.”
Mac concentrated on polishing off the rest of his pie, then looked at his watch. “I should get going. It’s a long drive to the airport.”
“You don’t want to get there too early,” Liss objected. “It isn’t as if you have to go through security or anything.”
That remark coaxed a small smile out of him. “You probably don’t remember, but there was a time when air travel was fun. When your mother went to conferences, if I didn’t go with her, I’d drive her to the airport and we’d get her checked in and then we’d both go up to the gate area. There was no security to speak of and a really great restaurant with windows overlooking the runway so you could watch the planes land and take off. We’d have a nice meal and linger over coffee until her flight was called, and then I’d walk her right up to the gate. Nobody objected to me staying in the waiting area until the plane was airborne. The added advantage was that I was right there if there was a last-minute delay or the flight was canceled. If I’d just dropped her off, the way we do these days, it would have been hard for her to get hold of me to let me know, especially if I was in the car on my way back home. No cell phones.”
“Now we can check flight status online. Not only can Mom let us know if there’s a delay or a cancelation, she can rebook on the spot.”
He laughed. “You think that’s an improvement?”
“Well, modern technology is going to let me look up Mom’s flight.”
Even as she spoke, Liss was fetching her iPad. The good news was that Vi should arrive on time. The not-so-good news was that, just before her plane had taken off from Miami, she’d sent Liss an e-mail: I think Charlie’s house has been under surveillance. I saw the same man watching me from his car two days in a row.
She’d added the license plate, clearly expecting Liss to ask Sherri to run the number. Unfortunately, without a better reason than Vi’s paranoia, her friend wouldn’t be able to do so legally.
Liss hoped that was all it was. There had been that man on all three of her flights from Florida to Maine, the one she’d been certain was following her. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since, and had convinced herself she’d been imagining things, but it did seem odd that her mother should have the same concern.
Liss didn’t mention Vi’s e-mail to her father. There was no point in worrying him. Her mother was on her way home, safe and sound. Even if there had been someone watching Charlie’s house, it was obvious no harm had come to Vi because of it.
After Mac left for the airport, Liss and Dan talked over what she’d learned about Charlie that day.
“Do you think I should ask Sherri if her father ever mentioned my uncle, or tell her what Moose said about Charlie and her mother-in-law?” Liss asked.
“I wouldn’t. For one thing, Moose isn’t the most reliable source of information. For another, I don’t see how a fling Thea had fifty years ago could have anything to do with what’s going on today.”
“Unless she killed Charlie.”
“Seriously? Can you really see Thea Campbell wielding a tree branch with murderous intent?”
Liss tried to picture it. Her uncle had been in good physical shape and around her father’s height. Thea was short and a bit overweight.
“I guess not, but if she isn’t still angry with Charlie, why is she so set on going ahead with the water project? You’d think she’d at least take the time to look into his claims.”
“No idea.” Dan slid an arm around her shoulders. “Still, she isn’t the only member of the board of selectmen. Charlie’s memo, even without documentation, sketches out enough that’s alarming that it would make most people think twice about signing an agreement with Merveilleuse International. Talk to the other selectmen tomorrow. Then we’ll attend the public hearing and you can argue for a delay. They’d have to be crazy not to agree to investigate.”
Liss appreciated his confidence in her, but she doubted it would be that easy.
Chapter Ten
Liss spent a restless night. Her to-do list for Monday morning contained several items. The first was to seek out the remaining selectmen and share Charlie’s memo with them. One was her neighbor, John Farley. The other was a man named Wilmot Ranger, a dairy farmer in Little Moose, one of the three smaller villages that, together with the village of Moosetookalook, made up the town of Moosetookalook. After that, she wanted to talk to Ernie Willett and Dolores Mayfield.
Instead of having breakfast at home, and in the hope of recruiting support for the case she meant to make that evening at the hearing, Liss headed for Patsy’s Coffee House. The small café was an institution in Moosetookalook. Patsy offered a variety of coffee beans for those who liked to grind their own, but she also baked like an angel and served both breakfast and light lunches. If there was anything going on in the town, she heard about it, but what she heard she tended to keep to herself. That she wasn’t a great one to gossip made her customers all the more likely to speak freely in front of her.
Thin as a rail, despite the scrumptious goodies she made for her customers, Patsy was behind the sales counter when Liss entered, writing the day’s specials on the chalkboard. The scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, better known as sticky
buns, filled the air. From the other delightful aromas wafting her way, Liss deduced that Patsy had made something with apples, probably turnovers, and chocolate brownies.
Dedicated coffee drinkers, all of whom Liss recognized, occupied three of the five stools drawn up to the counter. They nodded and smiled and she returned the friendly greetings before turning her attention to the customers in Patsy’s small seating area. Those filling the three booths and seated at one of Patsy’s two tables were mostly locals, but she also spotted two people she didn’t know.
“What can I get you, hon?” Patsy called out.
“Coffee and a sticky bun, please, Patsy.”
“One coffee, regular, coming right up.”
She pronounced “regular,” meaning served already doctored up with cream and two sugars, as “reglah,” alerting Liss to trouble. Patsy only dropped the final r from words when she was upset. Liss narrowed her eyes and took a closer look at the strangers.
The two men occupied the booth at the back. Both wore jeans, one with a long-sleeved flannel shirt and the other with a sweatshirt that had a Boston Bruins logo on the front. There was, however, something about them that suggested they’d be more comfortable in tailored suits and silk ties. Heads close together, they conversed in voices too low for Liss to catch more than a murmur of sound.
If those two guys aren’t from Merveilleuse International, Liss thought, I’ll eat my hat. Today it was a knitted ski cap with pom-poms on top, designed to keep her head warm on a chilly March morning.
The first stranger was heavyset with sparse brown hair, a florid complexion, and an oversized nose. Since he was seated, Liss couldn’t judge his height, but her best guess was that she wouldn’t have to look up very far to meet his eyes. His companion sat higher, but might not be any taller. He had a substantial build without being overweight and was also a little older than his companion, perhaps in his early sixties, with thick, silvery hair. As if he felt the weight of her gaze upon him, he looked up, pinning her with a cold blue stare. Disconcerted, she blinked.
“Earth to Liss. Do you want this coffee or not?” Patsy’s dry tone suggested it was not the first time she’d asked the question.
“What? Oh, sorry.”
She dug in her pocket for money to pay for her breakfast and then hastily took a seat at the only empty table. Head down, facing away from the booth where the two men sat, she pulled off a section of her sticky bun. If ever there was a need for a sugar rush, this was it!
Liss had finished half of her coffee and most of the oversized cinnamon roll before the heavier of the two strangers plopped himself down on the chair across from her. Startled, she let the last bit of her breakfast fall back onto her plate.
“I take it you’re Liss Ruskin,” he said in a low rumble of a voice. “I’m only going to tell you this once. If you don’t stay out of things that are none of your business, you’re going to regret it.”
The word “thug” popped into her mind. So did the term “hired killer.”
“Are you threatening me?”
The quaver in her voice annoyed her. Liss told herself she had no reason to be afraid. She was in a public place and everyone at Patsy’s had their ears stretched to eavesdrop. The stranger must realize there would be witnesses to testify against him if anything happened to her.
“Let’s call it a warning.” His smile showed a great many teeth. “Leave important decisions about this town’s future to those who know what they’re doing. You’re a meddling amateur and you won’t be happy with the results if you keep poking your nose in.”
“You mean Merveilleuse International won’t be happy if they lose the rights to our water.” She raised her voice so that none of her neighbors had to strain to hear what she was saying.
“The benefits to Moosetookalook—”
“Are outweighed by the risks, as I intend to point out at this evening’s hearing.”
A scattering of applause greeted this statement.
With a sound of disgust, the man rose from the table and signaled for his associate to join him. They collected their coats from the coat rack near the door and stalked out of Patsy’s without saying another word.
“Flatlanders,” someone muttered.
“Skunk hunters,” another agreed.
“Prob’ly Massholes, too,” said a third, using a popular Maine term for someone from Massachusetts.
Patsy materialized at Liss’s side with the coffeepot and refilled her mug. “The one who talked to you isn’t. That was Jeremiah Forestall himself. This is the first time he’s shown his face in town, but I’ve seen his picture in the paper. ”
“Really?” Liss couldn’t hide her surprise. “I’d have thought a successful businessman would be smoother. I had him figured for the muscle.”
Patsy chuckled. “Looks can be deceiving. I figure he got where he is today by bullying the competition.”
“Or bumping them off.”
“The other guy, now,” Patsy continued. “He’s got the looks and charm to grease the wheels. His name’s Wade Udall. He’s the front man. He’s been in here a couple of times before. The first time, early on, he bought lunch for the selectmen.”
Liss sat up straighter at that. “Was he in town the night Charlie was killed?”
Patsy sent her an odd look. “Now, that I couldn’t say. Most of the times I saw him were back a couple of months ago. He’s the one who did the initial negotiating with the board.”
Liss wondered if he’d done more than that. Now that she’d met Jeremiah Forestall, it seemed more likely than ever that Charlie’s death was tied to the information he’d uncovered on Merveilleuse International. She could easily imagine Forestall whacking her uncle over the head. He’d just threatened her, hadn’t he? And if the look Udall had given her was anything to go by, he was just as capable of murder as his boss.
* * *
From Patsy’s, Liss had only to cross the street to reach the house of her next-door neighbor John Farley, but she had forgotten one salient fact. The end of March was peak tax-preparation season and Farley was an accountant. True, he worked out of the first floor of his home, but that didn’t mean he had time to fit her into his busy schedule.
She waited for a full hour, until he was momentarily between clients. As soon as he’d shaken the hands of a departing couple she knew by sight, but not by name, she stepped in front of him. “We need to talk.”
“Not unless you’re my next appointment, and since he’s sitting right there, looking anxious, I know you’re not.”
“It’s important, John, or I wouldn’t bother you. I have information about Merveilleuse International. The company is—”
“You’ll have to bring whatever information you have to the hearing.” He sent his waiting client a reassuring smile and gestured for him to go on into the other room. “I’ll be right with you, Mr. Hannigan.”
If the waiting man had been anyone other than the owner of the local Laundromat, an irascible soul renowned for his penny-pinching ways, Liss might have tried to sweet-talk him into letting her borrow a few minutes of his allotted time slot. One look at Hannigan’s disapproving expression convinced her the effort would be futile.
“At least read this before the meeting.” Liss thrust a copy of Charlie’s memo into the accountant’s hands.
Farley folded it and tucked it into his pocket without so much as glancing at the contents. “I make no promises. I’m swamped with work. As it is, I had to reschedule three evening appointments just to attend the hearing.”
Grinding her teeth in frustration, Liss went home to get her car. The town of Moosetookalook was made up of four villages—Moosetookalook, Lower Mooseside, Ripley, and Little Moose. The latter, where Wilmot Ranger lived, was nearly seven miles away from Moosetookalook’s town square.
She had no difficulty finding his place, but Ranger himself was another story. He wasn’t home and wasn’t expected back until late afternoon. His wife, a cheerful, obliging woman, didn’t seem to und
erstand the urgency of the situation. The best Liss could do was hand over another copy of Charlie MacCrimmon’s memo and ask her to pass it on to her husband.
“I’ll give it to him,” she promised, “but whether he’ll read it or not, that’s another matter entirely. If he’d known how much paperwork was involved in being a selectman, he’d never have run for office in the first place.”
More discouraged than ever, Liss headed home.
Her route took her past The Spruces, the luxury hotel owned by her father-in-law. Joe Ruskin wasn’t high on her list of people to ask about Charlie, but since he was the same age as Margaret and Ernie, he’d surely known him. When she reached the Spruce Avenue end of the hotel’s long, curving hotel driveway, Liss turned in.
She parked in the staff lot at the back and cut through the main dining room to reach the much-less-luxurious nerve center of the enterprise. Joe kept talking about upgrading his office, but although he’d spared no expense in renovating the hotel, he was more than content to work without any frills. He was grumbling about whatever was on his computer monitor when Liss rapped on the door.
At the sight of her, he got up and crossed the indoor-outdoor carpeting to gather her into a hug. “How are you holding up? Dan said you and Vi went down to Florida to try to find out what Charlie was up to.”
For just a moment she let herself absorb the comfort he offered. In the case of Dan and Joe Ruskin, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Dan hadn’t just inherited his looks from his father; he’d also gotten Joe’s good heart.
“I’m fine, Joe. Just frustrated. I know why my uncle came back to Moosetookalook, but I still can’t figure out why he didn’t contact anyone, once he got here.”
“Come with me. I’m due for a break anyway.”
He led her down a short, utilitarian corridor to an equally plain conference room, but it was a conference room furnished with everything Joe needed to make a fresh pot of coffee. While he worked, Liss filled him in on what she’d discovered about her uncle since his murder.
A View to a Kilt Page 15
