She spent a little time cleaning up after Lumpkin—he’d knocked the basil off the windowsill and a ceramic spoon holder off the stove, breaking the latter into a dozen pieces. After a light early supper, Liss spent considerably more time going over her aunt’s books.
Business had picked up in the afternoon, but not by much. Apparently murder wasn’t even a nine-days’ wonder these days. The ledgers increased Liss’s pessimism about her aunt’s financial prospects. She began to think she should just go ahead and sell Mrs. Norris’s house. The money from the sale, added to the rest of her inheritance, should be enough to bail out the Emporium and still leave a bit for Liss to invest in her own future.
Tossing her pencil aside, Liss collected Lumpkin and headed for the house next door. She had almost an hour of daylight left, time enough to explore a bit. She hadn’t done more than take a quick look around on her last visit. She hadn’t even gone upstairs.
They started in the kitchen, where Lumpkin took the lead and made sure she found his supply of cat food. “What am I going to do with you when I leave here?” she asked him.
He was too busy scarfing down kibble to acknowledge that she’d spoken.
Liss wandered into the living room. As a toddler, she’d come here with her mother. She’d sat, quietly fascinated, watching Mrs. Norris knit and chat with Violet MacCrimmon. Only years later had Liss discovered Mrs. Norris’s library and their mutual love of reading.
It occurred to her now that she didn’t know much more than that about Amanda Norris. Mrs. Norris had taught school. She’d knitted. She’d baked. She’d taken an interest in her neighbors. And she’d been an avid reader. But Liss had only known her in her later years. What had she been like as a young woman? And what had happened to Mr. Norris? He’d been out of the picture by the time Liss first met his widow.
She left the living room and went upstairs, where five doors made a rough circle around a large central hall. Liss opened the one at the top of the stairs to discover a huge bath. It had probably been a bedroom once, she decided, before the house had indoor plumbing.
The next door led to a guest room, in which Mrs. Norris had placed three more Royal Doulton figurines—a shepherdess, a woman with a bouquet of flowers, and a Scottish dancer. Liss smiled at the latter and inspected the roomy closet—empty—and another door that led to a small balcony. She was careful to close the hall door when she left. She had a feeling this room was off-limits to Lumpkin. If he got in, the delicate and expensive figurines were likely to go the way of Aunt Margaret’s spoon holder.
The next door opened to reveal the stairs leading to the attic. A quick look at her watch told Liss she didn’t have time to investigate up there today. Instead she moved on to the master bedroom.
Mrs. Norris’s room occupied the front corner of the house and had the same view as the bay window in the living room. Liss surveyed the neighborhood, her gaze drawn first to her old house. Dan’s house. There was no truck in the driveway. No lights had come on inside. He wasn’t home.
She looked quickly away. It was ridiculous to start imagining that she could stay on in Moosetookalook. She couldn’t support herself here. She wasn’t even sure she could adjust to being in one place all the time. She’d liked being on the road, savored the constant change, the constant challenge of travel.
Liss’s eyes were on the town square, but her thoughts tumbled round and round, refusing to settle. For some moments, she didn’t register what she was seeing—an elderly man walking his equally ancient dog.
Liss sprinted down the stairs and out onto the porch. She caught up with Lenny Peet and his arthritic hound just as they were about to leave the square.
Ten minutes later, she was back in Mrs. Norris’s kitchen. Just like all the others, Lenny had been minding his own business on the Saturday Mrs. Norris was killed. He’d seen nothing out of the ordinary, noticed no one in the vicinity of Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium.
With a wary glance at the setting sun, Liss looked around for Lumpkin. She called his name. She opened one of the little, expensive cans of cat food. Nothing worked. Lumpkin did not intend to be removed twice from his home. After nearly a quarter hour of futile searching, by which time darkness had fallen in earnest, Liss gave up trying to locate him. She made sure he had plenty of water to go with his food, left a night light plugged in, and went back to her aunt’s apartment alone.
Chapter Sixteen
The evening was quiet. Too quiet. By the time Jeff stopped by to check on her, she was desperate for company. She made coffee and peppered him with questions while he drank it.
“It’s just so frustrating,” she confided. “I want to do something to help clear myself but I can’t think what else I can do. I’ve talked to everyone I could think of. No one saw anything. It’s possible one of them is lying, but I can’t tell who, and that blackmail thing turned out to be a dead end.”
“You know I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, right?”
“Shouldn’t you be involved in the investigation?”
“State police handle murders almost everywhere in the state, certainly in all the rural areas. They have the experience and training—I don’t. Neither do you. You’re just going to have to be patient, Liss. Good police work takes time.”
“It would be easier if I thought I was getting good police work. What I’ve got is Craig LaVerdiere.”
“I understand your concern,” Jeff said patiently, “but he has a whole team of people working the case with him. Good people. Let them do their jobs.”
“Do they always get it right? Do they even come up with the solution every time?”
“Well, no. But they never close the books on murder until they make an arrest.”
“That is not reassuring. Not when I’m the prime suspect.”
After Jeff left, she called Sherri, but Sherri was too distracted to talk. Her son had an earache. Ned didn’t answer his phone, and she heard nothing further from Dan.
Liss shook her head at her own foolishness. It wasn’t like her to need someone around every minute. Oh, it was understandable that she’d be nervous after the break-in, but she’d changed the locks and Jeff was right across the town square. She had nothing to worry about. She watched television for a while and went to bed early, but sleep eluded her.
She found herself wondering why Dan had taken Mrs. Norris’s blue looseleaf. What had he expected to find in its pages that the rest of them had missed? He must have been looking for something specific. Otherwise, he’d have told her he was borrowing it. They’d dismissed the idea that Mrs. Norris was writing down gossip about real people, hadn’t they? And Dan had been the one who’d argued most fiercely against suspecting her of being an extortionist. No explanation had presented itself before she drifted into an uneasy doze.
She dreamed of being locked in a cell—Prison Break had given her an all-too-vivid picture of what life in jail was like. She woke before dawn, rose with the sun, and by nine, an hour before the shop was due to open, had consumed enough coffee to make her jittery as an ingenue with stage fright.
Friday at the Emporium started out as a repeat of Thursday. The dearth of customers gave Liss more time to think—the last thing she needed.
The bell over the door jangled, just as it had the previous day when Gina Snowe turned up. This morning, however, the former classmate entering the Emporium was not an old friend. Karen Cloutier, Dan’s high school sweetheart, stopped just inside the door to give the shop a cursory once-over. With a disdainful sniff, she fingered a brass door knocker in the shape of a bagpiper.
“People actually pay money for this?”
“Some do.” Liss came out from behind the sales counter, hackles rising as Karen continued to touch merchandise she had no intention of buying.
She picked up a tiny stuffed Loch Ness monster, carelessly tossing it aside to inspect a piece of thistle glassware. Once it was well smudged with fingerprints, she put it back on the shelf. Liss winced as it struck the ad
jacent glass with a loud clink.
“Something I can do for you, Karen?”
She looked good for a woman who’d been married and had produced two kids. The dark hair and snapping blue eyes were unchanged. “I hear you mooched off Dan for a couple of nights.” Like Gina, Karen was from Fallstown, but someone had apparently filled her in on at least one bit of Moosetookalook gossip.
“I wouldn’t put it quite that way.” Liss waited for the other shoe to drop.
“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Karen abandoned the pretense of being interested in what the Emporium had to offer. “I had to watch him every minute back in the day and he always had a yen for you.”
Liss felt her eyebrows shoot up. If Dan had been interested in her in high school he’d sure had a funny way of showing it. She couldn’t remember that he’d said more than two words to her in public after they graduated from Moosetookalook Elementary School and matriculated at the regional high school in Fallstown.
“Of course he only strayed in his thoughts, and even they came right back to me. Every time.” A particularly smug smile appeared on her face and she practically purred her next comment. “It was so nice being with him again last night. He hasn’t lost a bit of his old fire.”
The implication gave Liss a nasty jolt. Dan had stayed in Fallstown overnight. Just the possibility that he’d spent part of that time cozied up to his old flame hurt like hell. Consider the source, she reminded herself.
“I understand you have two children, Karen,” she said. “Did you bring them with you?”
Karen scowled—not a flattering expression on her. Before she could manage a comeback, the shop door opened again.
Saved by the bell! Liss turned to greet the new customer, but her automatic smile faded as soon as she recognized Craig LaVerdiere.
“Ms. MacCrimmon, a word with you?”
“Certainly. Just as soon as I’m through with this customer.”
Karen looked from Liss to the newcomer and back again. “Oh, I think I’ll just browse a bit. Please, don’t let me keep you from business.”
Liss couldn’t tell if Karen knew LaVerdiere was a cop or if she thought his business with her was personal and romantic. Either way, it was clear the other woman didn’t intend to miss the chance to eavesdrop. Liss toyed with the idea of leaving her alone in the shop while she talked with La Verdiere in the privacy of the stockroom, but decided the effort would be a waste of time. Karen would just use one of the thistle glasses to listen through the door.
Leaving Dan’s old girlfriend to fiddle with a display of sporrans, Liss led LaVerdiere to the cozy corner and waved him into a chair. “What can I do for you, detective?” She kept her voice low and her tone neutral.
“I brought you your statement to be signed,” La Verdiere announced, indicating the manila folder he’d placed on the small table between the chairs. “Unless you’d like to change your story.”
“Not a chance.” She opened the folder and skimmed the typescript. She scarcely had to read it to know what it said. She’d answered the same questions so many times that she knew the contents by heart.
“I’m surprised you’re not asking about the investigation,” LaVerdiere remarked.
She lifted a brow at him as she signed her name. “Would you tell me anything if I did?”
“I don’t mind having you know some things.”
His sudden amiability made Liss wary. “So, how is the investigation going?”
“We still haven’t found anyone to verify exactly when you returned here that evening.”
Which meant she was still a suspect. Big surprise.
“And although motive isn’t really as important in finding a killer as fictional detectives think it is, no one has a better one than you do. Seems to me you must have known she left everything to you, Ms. MacCrimmon. What else but the promise of a fortune would make you hightail it back to a dinky little burg like this one?”
“Career-ending knee injury? Desire to help my aunt run her business?” She forced herself to settle back in her chair and feign casual unconcern. Never let them see you sweat.
“You stayed in touch with Mrs. Norris after you left Moosetookalook.”
“She stayed in touch with me. She stayed in touch with a lot of people.”
LaVerdiere picked up the folder she’d returned to the table, checked her signature, and stood. “So you say, Ms. MacCrimmon. So you say.”
Liss opened her mouth and closed it again. Since no argument she could make would convince him she was innocent, why bother?
LaVerdiere headed for the door. Karen Cloutier, looking as pleased as Lumpkin after a saucer of cream, timed her exit to coincide with his. She was flirting outrageously with the detective as they went out together. Liss wished her luck. She doubted LaVerdiere would tell her anything. Unfortunately, she’d already gotten an earful.
“This just keeps getting better and better,” Liss grumbled.
There were no more customers after Karen left. Once again Liss had too much time to think. She doodled a to-do list.
1. Clear name by identifying real killer
2. Solve Aunt Margaret’s financial problems
3. Find new career
Only with the last item did she have much hope of success. Liss started another list, this one of possibilities for future employment.
1. Teach dancing?
Liss made a face. Not her thing and never had been. She didn’t want to teach what she could no longer do. Besides, children made her uncomfortable.
2. Management position with Strathspey?
That would only work if such a job were available: it wasn’t. If she returned to the company, the best she could hope for would be work in some menial backstage capacity. Not appealing!
Liss hesitated, then wrote:
3. Stay in Moosetookalook.
She could buy into the Emporium, if Aunt Margaret wasn’t averse to the idea, but would that be a wise investment? The business was dangerously close to failure. She could lose her entire inheritance from Mrs. Norris in a futile attempt to save it.
Then there was The Spruces. If it ever opened, she supposed there would be jobs. She could even put money into the renovation project. But there, too, the prospect of disaster loomed. A year or two down the road, she might end up worse off than when she’d started.
You don’t have control of your inheritance yet, she reminded herself. And if Detective LaVerdiere had his way, she never would. Liss repressed a shudder. She wouldn’t have to worry about her future if she was in jail.
By the time Liss started to close up at five, she was feeling a bit more upbeat. For one thing, Dan had phoned to say that Mary was out of the woods. Her newborn, now named Jason, was doing better, too. And Dan was on his way home. They were going to have supper together after she paid a return visit to Mrs. Norris’s house.
She was just taping a notice to the inside of the door when she heard someone come up onto the porch. Her hand was halfway to the new deadbolt before she recognized her cousin. She jerked the door open instead.
“Where have you been?” She hadn’t been able to track him down since she discovered he’d lied to her about calling his mother.
“Never mind me. What’s the meaning of this?” He gestured angrily at the sign, which said she wouldn’t be opening until noon the next day. “Can’t be bothered to keep the place open? Need to sleep in on Saturday?”
“I need to attend Mrs. Norris’s memorial service.”
“Oh.” Although he took a step back, he looked more chagrined than contrite. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“You’re going, right?” She stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind her.
He shrugged. “I guess.” He watched her lock up, frowning. “There’s something different—you changed the locks? Why? We can’t afford—”
“If you want to talk to me, about locks or anything else, you’ll have to tag along while I go check on Lumpkin.” Too impatient to wait for a
response, she headed across the lawn toward Mrs. Norris’s house.
Ned trailed after her. “I hate that damned cat. He bites, you know.”
“You deserve to be bitten,” Liss said, unlocking Mrs. Norris’s kitchen door. “You lied to me. You never called your mother.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that.” He followed her into the house.
“You should be.” Lumpkin was waiting, sitting next to an upside-down water dish. With a sigh, Liss grabbed a towel and started mopping up the spill. Ned, mindful of the cat’s bad habits, prudently stayed out of the way.
“You also lied about being on vacation,” Liss said as she straightened up with the soaked towel in her hands. “You were fired from your last job.”
“How the hell—?”
“Is it true?”
“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t my fault.”
Liss dumped the towel in the sink, disgusted with both man and cat. She should have known better than to expect Ned to accept responsibility for anything. Even as a kid, he’d been an expert at shifting blame. He’d been even better at not getting caught.
Ned maintained a sulky silence, one shoulder propped against the wall, while Liss refilled Lumpkin’s food and water dishes and cleaned his litter box.
“Was there a reason you came looking for me?”
“Can’t a guy just stop by to see how his cousin’s doing?”
“After you’ve been avoiding me for days?” She headed for the hallway and the stairs, intending to take a look at the one room on the second floor that she hadn’t yet inspected.
By the time Ned caught up with her, Liss had let herself into the third, much smaller bedroom and had opened the hope chest she found there. It appeared to be full of memorabilia.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to give a eulogy tomorrow and I think I just found what I need to inspire me.”
He watched her burrow through the chest’s contents for a few minutes before asking again about the new locks.
Kilt Dead Page 19
