For a minute, I considered telling Will everything we knew about Murray, but I wanted to see what he knew first…
Just in case.
“Are you alright, Meg?” Will asked.
“What?”
He pointed to the counter. “The coffee maker. It buzzed.”
“Right!” I said as I jumped out of my chair to pour two mugs, black for him and sweet enough to give you a toothache for me. “Sorry about that. Go on with your story then.”
He took a sip of his coffee after I set the mugs on the table and his eyes crossed, then he switched them so he had the right cup.
“I still don’t know how you drink it like that. There are bees who would be horrified by your sugar intake. Anyway,” Will said once he cleared the sweet taste from his mouth, “back to the Middletons. All this talk of Ruthie Middleton made me remember a case from before I even started on the force. The only reason I knew about it at all was because Sheriff Lessing brought it up when we had a break-in at City Hall.”
I looked at my watch and saw it was almost ten pm. “Will, I don’t mean to rush you, but…”
“I’m getting there. These stories have to naturally build a little, right? So, there was a break-in at City Hall and Lessing mentioned we hadn’t had an incident of breaking and entering in Wintervale since 1953 when little Murray Middleton broke into the Wintervale Museum in the middle of the night.”
The Downtown Wintervale Museum was a long ago boarded up log cabin that had been converted into a sort of storage facility for Wintervale’s history. It mostly existed as a field trip location for elementary school students but there were a few items of historical value kept there. When the cabin became infested with termites, all of the important things were moved over to City Hall and the museum was destroyed…
But what business did a teenage Murray Middleton have there?
I must have been making a face that broadcasted my confusion because Will slid the folder over to me.
“The Middleton family donated the star to the museum and a fourteen-year-old Murray broke in and stole it back.”
I laughed in spite of myself. It wasn’t funny per say, but it was also a strange crime for a teenager in the 50s to commit. I also wasn’t surprised he left that little tidbit out when we talked to him today.
“Why in the world would he do that?” I asked out loud, not so much looking for an answer as wondering. Will shrugged.
“That I can’t tell you. But you might as well take the file. Ross won’t do anything with it. I can guarantee that he won’t think an eighty-one-year-old man is a suspect, so it will be up to you what steps to take next.” Will took one last sip of his coffee and stood up. “I guess that’s my cue, huh?”
I nodded and followed him to the door, my mind was so busy swimming with ideas that I barely noticed him pause at the door. When I finally realized we were both just standing there, I snapped back to reality.
“Oh, right. Thank you for this, Will. I think it’s going to be really helpful. Goodnight.” Will didn’t move, so I said it again. “Goodnight!”
“Meg,” he answered instead. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? We can just sit at the counter at The Middle Road Inn so it doesn’t feel like a date.”
I could hear Gladys, Liza, and Allison’s voices in my head telling me that I needed to stop acting like a hermit and live my life. But when I opened my mouth to answer him, it was as if the words got trapped in my throat. I paused, took a deep breath, and smiled at Will as genuinely as I could.
“I want to, Will. But could you give me a little more time?”
I wouldn’t have blamed him if he said no, or that he was tired of waiting for me to get my head together. Instead, he smiled, tipped his hat at me, and whispered, “Whatever you need, Meggie.”
As I watched him walk out to his truck, I couldn’t quite place why, but his patience only made me feel worse. The ladies were right; I needed to stop dragging this poor, sweet man around…
Right after we got Ruthie’s star back, of course.
Chapter Nine
“Are you sure you feel up to this, Kit? We could always just go on our own and then report back to you.”
Gladys was driving us in the direction of Wintervale General Hospital, while I sat in the back fussing over whether or not Kit was up to this trip. I’d spent the whole evening going through the file that Will left with me the night before and there was a lot of useful information in it despite the fact the papers inside were practically falling apart. Along with the faded report on a teenage Murray Middleton’s crime, a few other people were considered suspects at the time. One of those people was Harry Lavine. Since Ruthie had received that letter from a person with the last name Lavine, it was a clue that I couldn’t overlook.
Much like the Middletons, it turned out that there weren’t many Lavines left in the area. In the 50s and 60s, the majority of the family either lived in Hadleigh all year long, or owned vacation homes near what was now the Mountain Wolf Lodge. But over the years, it looked like most of them had moved on. I didn’t get a chance to do a lot of research on the family before I fell asleep, but I did discover one Harry J. Lavine living on the outskirts of Wintervale. Even if he wasn’t related, it was worth asking him if he knew anything about Ruthie’s star.
As soon as I got to town, I filled Kit and Gladys in on everything I’d learned, and the minute Kit heard the name “Harry Lavine,” her face set into deep, serious scowl. I don’t think I’d seen Kit scowl once in all the years I’d known her.
“Oh, I know Harry Lavine,” she said bitterly. “He volunteers up at the hospital check-in desk a few days a week. When you were in Wintervale General, laid up with that broken leg, I brought you a basket full of your favorite treats from Red Apple Grocery. Well, he claimed it was after visiting hours and told me to leave the basket with him. I hadn’t gone ten steps in the other direction before I turned around and caught him eating a pear and drinking a bottle of root beer right out of that basket!”
“The audacity!” Gladys said dramatically. I could tell she wasn’t taking it as seriously as Kit was, but it certainly didn’t eliminate him as a suspect. Stealing was stealing, right? So, when Gladys told Kit we were going to see Harry at the volunteer desk at the hospital, she insisted on coming with us. I just hoped she could contain her anger over the gift basket long enough for us to ask him some questions.
I tucked my arm through Kit’s as we walked into the hospital, hoping to try and keep her grounded since she could get feisty when she wanted to. But as usual, she was as sturdy and strong as an oak tree. The automatic doors opened in front of us with a flourish thanks to the wind caused by the cold and snow. Because the volunteer desk was right in front of the doors, the very first person we saw was almost certainly one Mr. Harold Lavine.
Harry Lavine was unexpectedly attractive, especially for a single man of his age in Wintervale. I was shocked he hadn’t been snatched up by one of the ladies over at The Glen. He had a full head of wavy white hair, blue eyes you could spot from across the room, and a smile that had probably charmed the heck out of more than a few ladies over the years. As soon as he spotted us, he turned on that sparkling smile and welcomed us as if we were old friends.
“Welcome to Wintervale General, ladies. What can I help all of you lovely women with today?” he cooed like a movie star. I saw Gladys’s cheeks turned red, but Kit let out a very distinctive “harumph” in response.
“Had any good pears lately, Lavine?” Kit growled. I gave her a gentle bump in the arm to stop her from ruining our chances of getting any information from him.
“Pears?” he asked, legitimately confused.
“That’s not why we’re here,” I quickly said before Kit could start up again. “My name is Meg Harrison and I’m doing some research for a friend. I was wondering if you knew anything about a Christmas ornament that once belonged to a woman named Ruthie Middleton?”
It was just a flash, but for a moment,
I could have sworn that I saw recognition in his eyes. Then it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“Middleton, you say? The name sounds familiar but I can’t say I know anyone named Ruthie Middleton.”
“She passed away a number of years ago,” Gladys said. Harry stuck out his lip and furrowed his brow in an attempt to look sad, but it came across as an act. I was starting to see what Kit had seen that night she dropped off the basket.
“That’s awful. I’m sorry to hear it, but I still don’t recognize the name.”
I felt Kit stiffen up. “You’ve lived in Wintervale your entire life and you expect us to believe you didn’t know Ruthie?” she said, her thin arm starting to shake with anger. I took her hand and squeezed it, hoping to remind her why we were here. If Harry Lavine was as slippery as he seemed, anger wasn’t going to get us anywhere.
“I’ve come and gone over the years, actually. I went to college in Oregon, lived in San Diego for a bit, transferred to Manhattan, and then came back here when I retired. Turns out I missed the snow. Who would have thought, right?” he asked with a wink.
There is something about this guy I do not like, I tried to tell Gladys telepathically. She seemed to receive the message.
“Mr. Lavine…” she started.
“Harry, please. Mr. Lavine was my father.”
“Uh-huh,” Gladys said impatiently. “Harry, can you tell us why you were a suspect in the 1953 theft of an ornament from the Wintervale Museum?”
Harry looked positively shocked… or like the director of a hammy stage play told him to look shocked.
“Was I? That’s news to me. I’ve never stolen anything in my life, except for a few hearts,” he said, winking at us again. Kit shivered with irritation next to me. I knew we needed to get out of the hospital before Kit tried to strangle Harry.
“Just one last question, sir. Can you tell us where you were on the night the Golden Oldies window was smashed?”
“The what was what? I’m afraid I don’t spend a lot of time in downtown Wintervale. What is Golden Oldies?” he asked innocently, though it was pretty clear none of us were buying it.
“Alright then, Mr. Lavine. Sorry to have taken up your time. We’ll get out of your hair,” I said, already pulling Kit toward the door against her will.
“You’re welcome in my hair anytime,” he said with another irritating wink. I heard Gladys groan and that meant Harry probably did too. Once we were outside in the cold, biting air, I finally allowed myself the luxury of a laugh. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Soon, Gladys joined in, and even Kit was forced to chuckle a little. When we were finally safe in the car, Gladys said,
“Wow. That guy was a total doofus.”
I laughed again. “Agreed, but do we really believe that doofus is capable of smashing a window and stealing Ruthie’s star?”
“I think he’s capable of a lot of things,” Kit said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Don’t get me wrong. I bet he’s left a trail of broken hearts from coast to coast. But until we know why he was a suspect in the 1953 theft, I’m going to have a hard time believing that creep is also a thief.”
Gladys turned onto the highway and headed back toward downtown. “We need to talk to Murray again. Now that we have some concrete information, maybe he’ll be willing to talk.”
I sighed as I leaned back against the seat. It was starting to snow again and I wasn’t sure I had the energy to deal with two frustrating elderly men in one day.
“We can go back to The Glen tomorrow. Right now, we need to decide if it’s time to go to Ross with what we know…”
Gladys looked at me in the rearview mirror. “I think we should talk to Murray first. He’s going to be a lot less willing to talk to the police, right?”
I nodded.
“You’re right. Maybe I’ll call Will tonight…”
Gladys snort laughed. “Yeah, you do that, Meggie.”
Maybe one day people will let me sort out my own love life. Maybe...
Chapter Ten
It had been a heck of a long day, especially after our strange encounter with Harry Lavine, and I couldn’t have been happier to finally get home. The timer turned on all of the Christmas lights that James helped me hang right after Thanksgiving so the farmhouse was bright and cheery. It was also exactly what I needed. I stood outside, breathing in the frosty night air, and tried to clear my mind of everything we’d already learned about Ruthie’s star. Sometimes if I took a deep breath and cleared my mind, an answer would come to me in the silence. But tonight?
Nothing.
Since the lights and the evening air weren’t clearing my head, I decided to go inside, have a cup of tea, and watch my favorite time-traveling love story. Except, as soon as I got up the porch stairs, I noticed that my front door wasn’t closed all the way. I had definitely locked it when I left in the morning because I worried perpetually about my kitty babies getting outside. They were not outdoor cats and wouldn’t make it far in the snow. When I opened the door they were always waiting for me but today… they were nowhere to be found.
I don’t know why, but a feeling of uneasiness washed over me as I slipped through the cracked door. None of the interior lights were on, the cats were missing, and it was so quiet, you could hear a mouse wagging its tail. My house wasn’t exactly brimming with weapons, unless you count my snow shovel. But it was in the shed and it would have taken me twenty minutes to get back and forth. By then, a burglar could have emptied my house and run off with my cats. Instead, I reached for the first thing I saw…
A bright pink umbrella covered in pink butterflies.
Well, at least if I die, I’ll go out with a snazzy accessory, I thought as I held the umbrella with a baseball and started inspecting the entire downstairs. Room by room, I would flick on the light and start wildly swinging, just in case. Once I was sure there was no one in the basement, I inched my way up the stairs as slowly as possible. I still couldn’t see any lights, but I did notice my bedroom door was shut and I never shut the door because the cats liked to sleep in my bed when I was gone.
For the first time in all of the years I lived in the farmhouse that Griffin and I built with our own two hands, I was truly scared. For a moment, I thought about calling Will and asking him to come over but if there was even a chance I was overreacting, I didn’t want to drag Will into my craziness. What if I had just forgotten to lock the door? Henry was an escape artist in his youth and pretty good at opening doors on his own.
Maybe I should be outside looking for the boys right now, I thought as I considered turning around and heading back outside. Just as I started to turn on my heel to run for the front door, I heard rustling coming from the back of the second floor. What if one of the cats was stuck in the attic somehow, or had gotten trapped in a closet while they were snooping around?
It didn’t look like I had much of a choice. I was going to have to explore the empty house all by myself and hope the only thing I found were the cats playing in my bedroom. As I tip-toed down the upstairs hallway, peeking into every empty room and finding nothing, my stomach twisted up even more. Eventually, the only door that was left was my bedroom door, and I could see light pouring out from under the door.
“Crap,” I whispered out loud, then hoping whoever was in my bedroom didn’t hear me muttering in the hallway. With a deep breath, I raised the umbrella over my head, threw the door open…
And screamed so loudly, they probably heard me all the way in Hadleigh.
Chapter Eleven
The surprise of seeing Daisy sitting on my bed with both cats in her lap was just enough to shock the heck out of me. It felt like I was never going to stop screaming, but then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, waving around a pink umbrella like a bat, and I realized how ridiculous I looked. After I set the umbrella on the floor next to my dresser, I turned to the bed and pointed an accusatory finger at the cats.
“You traitors. Daisy, what are you doing here? How
did you even get in?” I asked as I waited for my heart to stop beating like a bass drum. She shrugged as she stroked a purring Henry’s back.
“The hide-a-key next to the shed. I’m sorry I scared you but I thought you’d be home earlier.”
I sighed as I sat down on the edge of the bed next to her and the cats. “Do your parents know where you are?”
“I told dad I was coming here right after school, but you’ve been gone a really long time. I finished that cake in the fridge like, an hour ago.”
I laughed as I gestured for her to follow me downstairs. “Alright, you little cake thief. Come downstairs with me for some pre-dinner milk and cookies and then I’ll drive you home.” I figured it was my prerogative as a grandmother to spoil my grandkids and since Finn was still too little for sweet treats, I definitely let Daisy get away with murder… figuratively of course.
Once she was set up at the kitchen table with a glass of local chocolate milk and a box of cookies from The Flour Girl, I sat down with a cup of coffee and gave Daisy my “spill the beans” look.
“So, are you going to tell me why you walked all the way here from school or do I have to tickle it out of you?”
She instinctively slid her chair backwards just enough that I couldn’t reach her, in case I was serious. Then she grabbed a cookie and walked into the hallway, where she had dropped her book bag. I had no idea how I missed it when I walked into the house but it was sitting right there next to the coat rack. I must have been distracted by concern over the cats.
Once Daisy was back in her seat, she reached into her bag and returned with a handful of pictures. They were all different angles of the Golden Oldies smashed window.
“I’m guessing these are the photos you took that morning before everyone else got to the crime scene?” I asked as I flipped through them. They were thorough, but they all looked pretty much the same. “What am I looking at Daisy?”
The Christmas Tree Caper Page 4
