“I think that’s a great idea,” I said.
“If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going out to get the old chandelier from Doran’s and put it in the workroom.”
“Need any help?” I asked.
“You could come hold the door for me,” Mac said.
I smiled. “Sure.”
We started for the workroom. “Where’s Charlotte?” I asked.
“Talking to someone who was at that financial planning seminar. Someone she used to teach with, I think.”
“Do you think Caulfield is right?” I asked. “You think it’s possible that was where the whole wine thing began for Edison?”
“It’s possible,” he said. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before.” He held up a hand. “Not wine collecting, but other sorts of scams—rare coins, vacation properties in Florida. All the con needs is for one person to take the bait.”
“Why does someone ‘take the bait’?”
He shrugged. “My experience is pretty limited in this kind of thing, but I can tell you it’s usually not greed that motivates. I think, as crazy as it sounds, it’s the same kind of thing as making a wish when you blow out the candles on a birthday cake. It’s hoping for something more.”
“Do you think maybe Edison wanted to leave something more for Ethan?”
“I think it’s possible.”
“Which made him the perfect target for anyone looking to run a con.”
Mac nodded. “Pretty much. And it may not have happened at that financial seminar. The reality is, Edison Hall could have been scammed in a dozen or more ways.” He held the back door and I stepped out into the parking lot. Clouds were rolling in from the water.
“Including Feast in the Field?” I asked. “Rose thinks it’s possible.”
“You did notice that brochure about Feast in the Field smelled like tuna, didn’t you?” he said.
“I did,” I said. “I don’t think it’s important, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder about that money management seminar. According to Mr. Caulfield, Edison would have received an invitation. Maybe Charlotte will come up with something.”
Mac pulled his keys out of his pocket. “So you don’t think Elvis looked at that brochure and thought, Hey, a clue? He is a pretty smart cat.”
I shook my head. “I feel pretty confident that the only thing he was thinking about was lunch.”
We had a wheeled dolly that we used to move anything large or awkward from the old garage to the workroom in the shop. I helped Mac get the brass and glass light fixture settled on it. As he maneuvered the dolly into the workroom, Charlotte came out of the Angels’ office, a look of satisfaction on her face.
“Sarah, is it all right with you if Rose works the rest of my shift?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I talked to three different people who were at that first financial seminar. They all remember a woman who said she lived in Rockport, talking about the unpredictability of the stock market and how much better tangible things were as an investment.”
“Interesting,” I said.
She nodded. “Maribelle Hearndon just called me back. She knows someone who knows someone—you know how those things work—and I have a name and an address for the woman. Liz and I are going to see her.”
“Good luck,” I said.
Mr. P. arrived about twenty minutes after Liz and Charlotte had left.
“Did you walk up the hill?” I asked. “I could have come and picked you up.”
“Oh, thank you, Sarah,” he said, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head. “I’ve walked that hill many times. It doesn’t bother me, but I actually got a ride from your brother.” He inclined his head in the direction of the old garage. “He’s outside talking to Mac.”
I took a couple of steps backward and looked out into the parking lot. Liam was standing beside his half-ton truck deep in conversation with Mac.
“Rose is in the shop,” I said to Mr. P. “And I think there’s tea upstairs.”
He reached over and patted my arm. “Thank you, dear,” he said.
They all did that, I realized—patted my arm, smiled sweetly at me and called me “dear.” For all that I worried about them and tried to keep them from getting in too much trouble, I had the feeling, sometimes, that they were just humoring me.
Liam was dressed to work in jeans and a blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled back. “Hi,” he said as I joined them. “I was just telling Mac I’m free for the rest of the day, so we can probably get this whole thing finished if that’s what you want.”
“That works for me, Sarah,” Mac said.
“I’d love to get it finished,” I said. I smiled at Liam. “Thank you, big brother.” Emphasis on “big.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah, when you’re looking to get something from me, then you acknowledge that I’m older and wiser.”
I bumped him with my hip. “I said you were older; I didn’t say you were smarter.”
“I’m smart enough not to let you cook me dinner to pay me back,” he retorted.
“Are you coming to Thursday night jam?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll buy you dinner beforehand.”
“And all the nachos I can eat while Sam and the boys are playing.”
“Deal.”
“I can eat a lot of nachos,” he warned.
“You also do a lot of flirting, which cuts into your eating,” I said with a grin. “I think I can afford it.”
Liam and Mac went to work in the old garage and I went back to the shop. Mr. P. was in the sunporch busy with his computer. Avery and Rose were both with customers and as I stepped into the store Avery beckoned me over.
It turned out to be a busy afternoon. A small caravan of RV campers was working its way up the coast and they’d stopped in North Harbor for a couple of days. One of the RV owners bought two guitars and when I asked him about his camper—which looked like an oversize van to me—he offered to let me have a look inside. It had a tiny galley kitchen, a separate bathroom and a sofa at the back that turned into a queen-size bed.
“There’s a lot more room inside than I expected,” I said to the owner, who said his name was Joe. I was guessing he was in his mid to late fifties.
“Everyone says that,” he said. “It’s not bad on gas and it’s pretty easy to park.” He gestured at the store behind us. “You could travel all over the state with this and bring things back for your store. Or park it in the middle of the woods somewhere and spend the whole day playing guitar.”
“I like that second part,” I said with a laugh.
Joe told me that the group would be heading south again in a couple of months and he’d stop in then to see what musical instruments I had in stock.
I walked back inside to find Rose giving the driver of one of the other RV’s directions to the Black Bear and Avery selling three of the bracelets she was wearing to a woman about my age. Elvis was holding court on the tub chair being fussed over by three more customers. Mr. P. came down the stairs carrying two mugs.
“I just made a fresh pot for Mac and your brother,” he said. “Would you like me to get you a cup when I come back?”
I hesitated and then the phone rang.
“Go answer that,” Mr. P. said. “I’ll bring you coffee in just a minute.” He made his way across the room, smiling at both Rose and Avery as he passed them.
As I went to get the phone, I realized that as much as it might be fun to run off in an RV, I’d miss them all too much to ever do it. Then I got a mental image of taking them all with me, Mr. P. with his pants hiked up to his armpits driving one of the oversize vans, Liz with her heels and perfect manicure behind the wheel of another and me with Elvis riding shotgun leading the way. The thought made me laugh as I picked up the phone.
Charlotte and Liz got back about an hour before closing time. I knew from the expression on their faces that they hadn’t returned with any useful information.