by Sofie Ryan
“Am I wrong?” I said to her. I trusted Rose’s judgment.
Rose didn’t ask what I was talking about. She just shook her head and said, “I don’t think so. I’ve had a bad feeling about the fire since I first heard what happened.” She cocked her head to one side. “Does it strike you as odd that Christine wasn’t supposed to be at the apartment but she was, while Debra was supposed to be there but she wasn’t?”
I held up one hand. “Are you saying you think someone was after Debra?”
“Or maybe Socrates.”
I stared at her without speaking for a moment. “So someone started the fire to hurt the cat?”
“I know how it sounds,” Rose said. “I’m old, but I’m not daft, as Liz would say.”
I’d never heard Liz use the word “daft” but it didn’t seem like a good time to point that out.
“I don’t think anyone was trying to hurt Socrates, but I do think it’s possible someone wanted to knock him out of the competition.”
“But it’s a cat show,” I said. “Nobody’s going to take it that seriously, are they?”
“It’s also big business; especially this year, where there’s interest in signing the winning cats to endorsement deals for everything from pet food and supplements to products outside of the cat show market. There’s even talk of a reality show, featuring the top cats in each category.”
I raked a hand back through my hair. “I had no idea.”
“Spending on pets in this country is a multibillion-dollar proposition. Some people will do anything to get a piece of that pie.”
“Okay, let’s say for a moment you’re right. That means it’s possible the fire and the vandalism at the previous shows are connected.”
Rose nodded. “That had occurred to me.”
“So what do we do?” I said.
“What we’ve been doing from the beginning,” she said. “We keep working on the case we have and we wait to hear from Nicolas. But I also think we need to keep a close eye on Debra and Socrates.”
“If someone was trying to hurt either one of them, they could try again.”
“Do you think we could go see Debra after lunch?” Rose asked. “She’s with Tim, over at the Hearthstone Inn. Tim wanted her to go back to Portland with him, but Debra didn’t want to leave; and the Hearthstone takes pets, so that’s where they went.”
“Pick a time and I’ll be ready,” I said.
She smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”
“Are you going to tell her what you suspect?”
She let out a breath. “I don’t know. She’s already so upset. I don’t want her to think what happened to Christine is her fault in any way, but I don’t want anything to happen to her or Socrates, either.”
I patted her arm the way she often did to reassure me. “We’ll figure it out,” I said.
Charlotte and her customer were carrying the galvanized tub still filled with bottles to the cash desk. It seemed the man wanted the tub and the contents. Or Charlotte had convinced him he did. She was very good at the soft sell.
My phone chimed then. I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the screen. The text was from Nick. Just two words:
No battery.
I remembered what Debra had said when she and Christine had told the story about the fire in their chemistry lab. She’d said the whole class had learned a lesson about working smoke detectors. I didn’t see how Christine would have had one in her apartment that had no battery.
I turned the phone around so Rose could see the screen. She read the text. Then her gray eyes met mine and a look of resolve spread across her face.
I was the Angels’ newest client.
Chapter 10
Rose promised that she would update Mr. P. I went upstairs for my jacket and a cup of coffee for Mac and then I went out to the workshop to tell him what was going on. I found him sanding the back of a teak patio bench, one of a set of two that Mac had bought from Cleveland. They had both been painted a glossy, disconcerting shade of hot pink. Mac had been working on the benches on and off for weeks now, coming back to them in between other projects for the shop. Now that most of the pink was gone, I could see the beauty of the wood underneath and I was considering keeping them for myself.
Mac turned off the sander when he caught sight of me and brushed off his hands and the front of his shirt before he pulled off his sanding mask.
I handed him the cup of coffee. “Thank you,” he said. “This is dry work.” He took a long drink.
“It’s looking good,” I said, walking around the bench to take a closer look. “I have to admit I thought you were crazy the first time I saw these two pieces. They were so, so pink.”
He nodded. “I know. There were a couple of times I thought I was never going to get rid of that color, but now that I’m pretty much down to the bare wood I can see the quality of the craftsmanship.” He gestured at a detail in the back of the bench. “Look at that join. This wasn’t made on an assembly line. Both of these were hand-crafted by someone who knew what they were doing.”
I ran my hand along the arm of the piece. “I’m glad you saw their potential under all that pink.”
Mac took another drink of his coffee.
I wiped away the thin layer of dust clinging to my fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that I wanted to look into Christine’s death. I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I didn’t really know what I was going to say until I stood up and the words came out.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, your reasoning makes sense to me.”
“I heard from Nick.”
“So now the Angels have two cases.”
I smiled at him. “They do. How did you know that I was right and Nick wasn’t?”
He folded his arms across his midsection, still holding on to his coffee cup. “Like I said, your reasoning made sense. The likelihood of so many coincidences happening just isn’t logical; and let’s face it, when Nick goes up against you and Rose it never goes his way.”
I laughed. “So you were playing the odds.”
He held up his thumb and finger about half an inch apart. “A little bit.”
“To be fair, you know Nick will work this case as hard as anyone.”
Mac nodded. “That’s one of the things I really respect about him.” He took another sip of his coffee. “You know, Nick and Rose actually are very alike. They’re both intensely focused and they both don’t give up easily.”
I gave a snort of laughter. “Do not tell either of them you think that!”
“You don’t agree?” he asked, his tone teasing.
I shook my head. “I’m not answering that on the grounds it will get me into trouble with both of them. The most I’m willing to concede is that each one thinks the other is stubborn.”
Mac set his cup down on a nearby table, looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was in the parking lot and then pulled me toward him. “Would you also be willing to concede that since there’s no one around it would be okay for me to kiss you?”
I put my arms around his neck. “Absolutely,” I said.
* * *
* * *
I spent the rest of the morning updating the listings on the store’s website. Avery arrived at lunchtime. She came in through the workshop, stopping to hug Rose.
“How were your classes?” Rose asked.
“They bite,” Avery said as she headed for the stairs.
“Is that worse or better than ‘like a dirt sandwich,’ which was yesterday’s answer?” I asked.
Rose smiled and shook her head. “I think it’s too fine a distinction to make.”
Avery disliked school. There had been issues at her previous school and the one before that and she butted heads with her parents over pretty much everything. Everyone had been surprised w
hen Liz had suggested that Avery live with her and attend a private school that had only half-day classes. Avery was hardworking and creative and when I’d broached offering her a part-time job, Liz had given me a long look before saying, “Do you know what you’re getting in to?”
“I think I do,” I’d said. The truth was, I’d had a feeling that being around Rose and Charlotte and her grandmother would be good for Avery. Being around them had been good for me when I was her age.
I was rescuing my pen from under my desk a few minutes later when Avery knocked on the office door. I was pleased to see that she was wearing the bracelet I’d given her. I knew that meant she liked it. She wasn’t the type of person to wear something she didn’t like just to be polite.
“Is this a bad time?” she asked.
I brushed a dust bunny out of my hair and made a mental note to get Mac to help me move the desk so I could do a better job vacuuming underneath it. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Elvis seems to think it’s funny to knock all my pens off the desk.”
“Yeah, he has a weird sense of humor,” she said as though we were talking about a person and not a cat. She shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I, uh, just wanted to say I’m sorry that your friend died in that fire.”
“Thank you,” I said. I was touched by her words. Emotional situations weren’t easy for Avery.
“Friends stick together, so anytime you feel bad you can come and hang with Nonna and me.”
“I might just do that,” I said.
Avery hesitated and then gave me a quick, awkward hug. I had to swallow against a sudden prickle of tears.
“I’ll go get to work,” she said, and she was gone.
* * *
* * *
After lunch Rose and I drove to the Hearthstone Inn to see Debra. The sky was gray and low and I wondered if we’d get snow or rain later. The inn was within walking distance of the downtown, overlooking the water at Windspeare Point, nestled among the trees overlooking West Penobscot Bay. Beyond the bay were Deer Isle, Swan’s Island and the Atlantic Ocean. The inn itself was a three-story mansard-roofed Victorian built in the 1830s with high, narrow windows and intricate exterior details. The building had been painted three shades of gray, from a pale gray the color of early-morning fog on the clapboards to a deep charcoal on the mansard roof with accents of white, green and bronze on the cornices, moldings and other trim details. The front door was a deep, forest green.
Inside we were welcomed by a very friendly calico cat and a woman who looked to be in her midforties with gray hair in a chin-length bob, wearing a red plaid shirt tucked into black jeans. I was guessing she was one of the new owners of the Hearthstone.
“Rose, it’s good to see you,” she said with a warm smile.
It was no surprise that they knew each other. Rose had grown up in North Harbor; she’d spent her entire teaching career in town and she was the kind of person for whom a stranger was just a friend she hadn’t yet gotten to know.
The cat was sitting on a wooden chair with curved arms and beautifully turned back spindles. I held out my hand. He sniffed it, narrowing his eyes in curiosity, then butted it with his head, a signal that it was okay to stroke his fur, which I did.
“It’s good to see you, too, Maud,” Rose said. She turned to me. “Sarah, meet Maud Fitch. She’s the newest member of the library board and Maud and her wife are the new owners of Hearthstone.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sarah,” Maud said, offering her hand. “I’ve been hearing good things about your shop. Rose says you may have some of the things I’m looking for.”
“What do you need?” I asked. She had a firm handshake and the posture of a dancer.
“Among other things, I’m looking for several chairs for some of the bedrooms.”
A smile spread across Rose’s face.
I smiled as well. “I have a bit of a weakness for orphaned chairs and I’m certain there would be something you’d like.”
“Good,” Maud said. “I’ll stop by the first chance I get.” Her smile faded and she glanced over her shoulder. “You’re here to see Debra Martinez.”
Rose nodded.
“I was so sorry to hear that someone died in the fire.”
“It was kind of you to offer a room to Debra and Socrates,” I said.
“We’re cat people,” Maud said. She gestured at the cat still sitting in the chair, now carefully washing his face. “You’ve already met Michelangelo, and Leonardo is around here somewhere.” She held up one hand. “I swear they’re named after the artists, not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles—at least according to the shelter they came from.”
She turned and indicated the hallway behind us. “Debra and her friend Tim are in the dining room. It’s the second room on the left just around the corner.”
We thanked her and moved down the hall.
“This is a beautiful old house,” I said to Rose.
“It is,” Rose said. “I’m so glad that Maud and her wife have bought the inn and are committed to a life here in North Harbor.”
Debra was standing by the window, looking out into the side yard. She turned as we came into the room.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. Tim was seated at the long rectangular dining room table. He got to his feet.
Rose wrapped Debra in a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Debra,” I said. “Christine was a wonderful person.”
“She was happy she’d met you. After we all had lunch she was so excited about finally, hopefully, being able to do something about her father’s record collection. And she hoped she’d get to know you a little better, too.”
I nodded, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat before I spoke. “I would have liked that.”
Tim was hovering. I could see the worry etched on his face. “Why don’t you sit down?” he said to her.
“I’m all right,” she said. “Don’t fuss.” She gave him a small smile to soften her words as she turned back to Rose.
“Tim, how are you?” I asked. I felt a little guilty about suspecting him of being behind the sabotage at the New Hampshire shows when he’d really been helping save a dog.
He swiped a hand over his mouth. “I uh . . . I’m all right. Thank you for asking. I can’t believe Christine is dead.”
Maud came in then carrying a large tray. It held everything we needed for tea including a china teapot wrapped in a pink flowered quilted tea cozy, along with a plate of tiny cranberry muffins and a creamy cheese spread. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need more hot water,” she said.
We took seats at one end of the table.
“Would you like me to pour?” Rose asked.
Debra nodded. “Please.”
Tim cleared his throat. “I’m glad you came. Can you please convince Debra that the best thing to do right now is to come back to Portland with me? There isn’t anything she can do here.”
Debra looked across the table. Her hands were in her lap and I could see the right one was clenched into a tight fist. “I know you mean well, but I’m not going anywhere. I should have been at the apartment with Christine. And I’m not running off until I find out what happened.”
Rose set a cup of tea in front of Debra, then she set down the teapot and put a hand on her friend’s arm. “What happened is not your fault,” she said firmly. “If you had been there, we might have lost both of you.”
“She loaned me her car,” Debra said in a low voice, staring down at her lap. “I keep thinking if it had been in her parking space maybe someone would have figured out sooner that she was inside.”
“And maybe someone else would be dead, too,” Tim said. “The firefighters went inside as soon as they got to the building.” He took a breath and let it out. “It was just too late. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Tim is right
,” Rose said. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know that here,” Debra said, lifting her head to look at Rose and at the same time tapping the side of her head with one hand. “But not here.” She put her hand over her heart.
Rose picked up the teapot. “That will take time.”
Socrates had come from somewhere and had been winding around my legs. Suddenly he launched himself onto my lap.
“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Debra said, reaching to take the cat.
“It’s okay,” I said. “He’s fine here.”
As if to add credence to my words Socrates leaned against my chest and blinked his copper eyes at Debra.
“Thank you,” she said. “He knows something’s wrong.”
Rose finished pouring for everyone. I added milk and a little sugar to my cup.
Socrates lifted his head to see what I was drinking but didn’t seem interested once he knew what it was.
Debra put one of the tiny muffins on a napkin, broke it in half and spread a little of the cheese on one piece. “There’s another reason I want to stay here,” she said. She glanced at me and then at Rose. She didn’t look in Tim’s direction at all.
“What is it?” I asked. I had a feeling I knew what her answer would be.
“Socrates and I are doing the show.”
“You’re not serious,” Tim said.
Debra did look at him then. “Yes,” she said. “Christine and I always had a good time together at the shows and I think she’d want me to.”
I remembered Christine telling me, that first time we had coffee, how much fun she had being at the cat shows and how much she liked Socrates, who she thought was a pretty good judge of character.
“You don’t have a place to stay anymore,” Tim said, “and most of Socrates’s things were damaged in the fire.” He tented his hand over the top of the cup of tea in front of him. “I knew Christine, too, you know, and she would understand about you skipping this show.”
I saw a flash of uncertainty on Debra’s face.
“Stay with me,” Rose said.
Debra stared at her. “Are you serious?”
