“She did and we’ve already started working out there.”
“I’m really glad to hear that,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “This has been hard for Ethan. Once his father’s estate is settled, he’ll be able to get on with his life.”
“I promised Stella that we’d work as quickly as we can.” I stretched my legs out in front of me, glad once again to be out of those heels no matter how good they made my legs look.
“I know you gave Stella a deal, Sarah,” Nick said. “Thanks. Any chance you can find something in that old house that’s worth some money?”
I thought about the Marklin train set Elvis and I had found. Even though its ownership was in dispute, maybe there was a way it could still be used to help Ellie Hall. “I’m working on it,” I said.
“I gotta go,” Nick said then. “Are you coming to dinner at Mom’s on Sunday?”
“I am,” I said. “Rose is going to teach me how to make gravy.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well . . . um . . . good luck with that. I’m not much of a gravy man myself.”
“Nice try,” I said. “I’ve seen you in your mother’s kitchen eating gravy out of the roaster with a spoon at Thanksgiving.”
He cleared his throat. “Sarah, we’ve known each other since we were kids and in all that time you’ve never made anything that was edible. Face it. You did not get the cooking gene. You’re the kind of person for whom takeout was invented.”
“Nicolas Elliot, I’m going to make you eat your words,” I promised, feeling a little surge of competitiveness in my gut.
“It’ll have to be better than eating your cooking,” he said before he ended the call, laughing.
I took the orders downstairs. “Avery, would you get these started, please?” I asked the teenager.
“No problem,” she said, taking the pages and heading for the workroom.
Rose was busy straightening up, putting chairs in place around a small table, fluffing the pillows on the seats. “I’m just going out to see how Mac and Liam are doing,” I said. “Avery is out back if you need her.”
“Take your time,” she said, stepping back to survey her handiwork and then tweaking the position of a chair.
Mr. P. was in the sunporch, working on his laptop as usual. “Sarah,” he called as I went past the door.
I backtracked a couple of steps, leaned around the doorframe and looked at him inquiringly.
“I called Detective Andrews,” he said. “She didn’t seem very interested in our information.”
“I know,” I said. “I heard from Nick.” I paused. “I think they’re wrong.”
“Great minds think alike.” Then he smiled. “Of course, Elizabeth would say, fools seldom differ.”
“I like yours better,” I said. I gestured at the computer. “Is that Feast in the Field?”
He nodded. “I thought I would go through as many photos as I could find online this weekend.”
“You don’t even know if Edison Hall was there,” I said.
Mr. P. smoothed the few wisps of gray hair that he had. “He was. Rose called Stella and asked.”
It still seemed like a waste of time to me.
Alfred must have seen some of what I was thinking in my expression. “I am aware that brochure Elvis found smelled like tuna fish, Sarah,” he said. He studied my face for what seemed like a long moment. “I also trust Rosie’s instincts.”
He didn’t need to remind me that Rose’s instincts had probably saved my life the previous winter.
“Could I help?” I asked.
“I have everything under control,” Mr. P. said. “I have another little piece of facial-scanning software that I think will help me.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” I said. I didn’t ask him where his little piece of software had come from and he didn’t volunteer the information.
Mac and Liam were making great progress on the ceiling of the old garage. They had decided to keep going until all the drywall was up. I told them I’d be back later with pizza.
Liz arrived at the end of the day to pick up Avery along with Rose and Mr. P.
I gave Charlotte a ride home.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she got out of the SUV. “Bring your apron.”
“I’m not so sure I should be cooking anything,” I said. “What if I ruin the gravy?”
“Then everyone can have ketchup instead.” She waved as she started up her driveway. I watched to make sure she made it inside.
Elvis meowed from the backseat. “No, I’m not hanging over the seat to pick you up just so you can sit up here,” I said. I turned to look at him. “If you want to come up here, you’re going to have to jump.”
He meowed again, just a little louder.
I turned the radio on and sat back in my seat, and a tail smacked the side of my head as Elvis landed on the top of the middle section of the split front seat.
“Hello,” I said.
He gave me a look of annoyance, jumped down and moved over to settle himself on the passenger side, craning his neck to look out the windshield. It didn’t matter where he was sitting: The cat was a backseat driver.
I took Elvis home and then collected the pizza I’d ordered before I’d left the shop. The guys had just finished hanging the last sheet of drywall.
Mac brushed dust off the front of his T-shirt. “Thank you,” he said to Liam. “I owe you for this.”
Liam wiped his hands on the front of his pants. “You don’t owe me a thing.” One long arm snaked out and caught me around the shoulders. “You, on the other hand, owe me big-time.”
I reached over and flicked his forehead with my thumb and forefinger. “Really?” I said. “I still have that video of you in the onesie Mom bought you at Christmas, wearing Dad’s hat with the flaps while the two of you sing a rousing chorus of ‘Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer.’”
Mac’s lips twitched as he tried not to laugh. Liam let go of me and put one hand over his heart. “We’re family,” he said with mock sincerity. “You don’t owe me a thing.”
I laughed and hugged him.
We ate the pizza and talked more about Liam’s role in the proposed downtown development. Because the previous North by West proposal had fallen apart, it seemed as though the harbor-front revitalization had been the only topic of conversation for close to a year now.
“Do you think this is really going to happen this time?” I asked Liam.
He pulled a long string of mozzarella from his slice and ate it. “Yeah, I do,” he said. “I looked at the financials and the numbers are good.” He nudged me with his elbow. “So I’ll probably be around a lot more, at least for a while.”
I smiled back at him. I liked having Liam around, and not just because he could cook. “You should come running with me,” I said.
“How about tomorrow morning?”
I nodded. “That works for me.”
Half a slice of pizza was on his plate. Liam rolled it up and put the entire thing in his mouth. After he swallowed he stretched and stood up. “I really need to get going,” he said.
“Thanks for the help,” Mac said.
“Not a problem,” Liam said. “Anytime.”
They shook hands and surveyed their handiwork.
When Liam turned to me I wrapped him in another hug. “Thanks,” I said. “I really do owe you.”
He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll collect.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket, looked at the screen and put it back. “If you see Rose, will you tell her I’ll look for those photos and e-mail them to her later tonight?”
“What photos?” I asked as he leaned forward and brushed dust and bits of paper out of his hair.
“From that wine – and food-tasting thing last fall,” he said.
“Feast in the Field?”
He nodded. “That’s it. She asked if I had any pictures. I was pretty sure I did. I just need to charge my phone and I can send them to her. I forgot to plug it in last night.”