She laughed. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”
The lines in his face tightened.
He stood up. “This meeting is over,” he said.
Liz got to her feet as well. Her eyes locked on Daniel Swift’s face. “Technology is a wonderful thing, Daniel,” she said. “When you and I were young, it was easy to sneak out a window or in one for that matter. Now there are security cameras everywhere. Which means a secret visit to the bakery the night Lily died won’t stay a secret forever.”
Swift came out from behind his desk. A smile played around his mouth, but there was no warmth in it, only cold humor. “Do you really think I care about some small-town baker making her little loaves of sourdough bread and hoping we’d all hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’?”
“I don’t think you care about anyone but yourself,” Liz said. She pulled on her gloves very slowly and deliberately. “I’m making it my mission to find out what happened to Lily. And if I find out that you had anything to do with her death, no matter how indirectly, I will break you like a baseball bat making contact with a mailbox.”
“Are you threatening me, Elizabeth?” he asked.
Liz smoothed one glove over her hand. She looked up at Swift. “I’m sorry,” she said. She paused for effect. “I thought I’d made that clear.”
He looked at me for the first time since I’d entered the room. “Elizabeth is clearly suffering from some kind of dementia,” he said. “I think you should take her home and contact her family.”
I wanted to slug the old coot with my purse. But all I said was “Good afternoon, Mr. Swift.” And Liz and I left.
Jane Evans wasn’t at her desk in the outer office, but the pretty blond receptionist was at her place in the foyer.
Liz walked over to her. “You have spunk,” she said. “Which I generally don’t care for. You’re also loyal, which I do like very much.” She gestured over her shoulder. “He doesn’t deserve your loyalty.” She held out a business card. “I’m Elizabeth Emmerson French. I’m chair of the board of the Emmerson Foundation. And by the way, you should know who the movers and shakers are in town if you’re going to do this kind of job. If you’d like to make a career change, call my office.”
The startled young woman took the card. “Uh . . . uh . . . thank you,” she said.
Liz nodded and made her way over to the elevator. I followed.
When the elevator door closed, Liz turned to me. “Dementia, my ass . . . ets,” she said.
I clapped.
Liz narrowed her eyes. “What’s the applause for?”
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” I said. “Baseball bat making contact with a mailbox? You were fierce. Way to go, Xena.”
She laughed as the elevator doors opened onto the building’s lobby. “Now all we have to do is figure out how the Swifts are tied in to Lily’s death,” she said, “because I’m certain they are.”
I nodded. So was I.
Chapter 22
Liz and I drove back to the shop. Rose was waiting by the back door.
“Well?” she said to Liz as I stopped to stomp the snow off my boots on the mat.
“We rattled his cage,” Liz said, heading into the storeroom.
Rose trailed her. “But did you find out anything?”
“Daniel Swift is mixed up in this somehow,” Liz said.
“But do you know how?” Rose persisted.
Liz stopped, turned and looked at her friend. “Not yet.”
Rose looked at me.
“Liz is right. Daniel Swift has a connection to Lily’s murder. But I don’t know what it is, either.” I hated to think that Sloane might have done something to Lily. Could she have changed that much?
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” I said. “Daniel Swift is the investor behind the Wellington Group. I got my dad to do a little digging.”
Rose turned her attention to Mr. P., who was in his usual seat in the Angels’ “office.” “The answer has to be in the footage from the security camera at the bank on the end of the street. Alfred just got it this afternoon.”
“Do I want to know how?” I said.
Liz rolled her eyes.
“Probably not, dear,” Rose said, patting my arm.
I looked at Mr. P. “Keep going,” I said.
“Don’t worry. Alf can do this,” Rose said.
He sat up a little taller in his chair.
“I’m going to go find Mac,” I said. “Let me know if you find something.”
Mac and Avery were in the shop, both waiting on customers. Avery raised a hand when she caught sight of me and walked over to meet me. “She’s interested in the twelve-string,” she said, indicating the woman she’d been talking to who was holding a Gibson guitar very similar to Sam’s and trying a few chords. She was mid-fifties, wearing jeans tucked into leather boots and a dark red duffle coat. “She’s looking for a deal, but don’t be fooled by the clothes. She can afford to pay more than she’s offering.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
Avery glanced back at the woman and saw she wasn’t paying any attention to us. “She’s wearing a vintage watch that’s worth about three times the cost of that guitar. She also has a rose gold bracelet and earrings that aren’t exactly cheap.”
“Very observant,” I said. “Do you want to close the deal?”
She nodded.
“Go ahead, then,” I said.
I nodded to Mac, who was showing a customer my favorite slipper chair, and headed upstairs. Elvis was sitting in the middle of my desk. “Merow?” he said.
“I think Daniel Swift’s fingerprints are all over this,” I said, peeling off my jacket and dropping onto my office chair. The cat lifted a paw, studied it for a moment, then licked it.
I laughed at the symbolism. “And, yes, he does seem to think that he doesn’t have any dirt on his hands.” I sighed. Maybe we’d get lucky and Mr. P. would find something.
When I went back downstairs, both Avery and Mac had made their sales. “I’ll get the vacuum,” Avery said.
Mac came over to me. “How was your meeting with Daniel Swift?”
“You should have seen Liz,” I said, pulling a hand through my hair. “She was fierce.”
“Did you find out anything useful?”
“Aside from the fact that I wouldn’t want to play poker with Daniel Swift? No.” I sighed. “He’s mixed up in this, though,” I said. “Do I sound like Rose if I say I just know it? In here.” I put one hand on my chest.
“No,” Mac said. “I think in the end you have to go with your gut.” He gestured in the direction of the storeroom. “I forgot to tell you. I have someone interested in that hutch you’ve been working on.”
I’d ended up painting the big piece of furniture. The shelves were a pale gray called Foggy Morning and the rest was a deep marine blue. The salvaged ring pulls had worked perfectly on the louvered doors.
Mac named a figure that made me blink. “That’s twice what I expected to get,” I said. I grinned at him. “Didn’t you say something about me making a mistake buying that hutch from Cleveland?”
“No comment,” he said with a smile.
I locked the front door, and Mac and I straightened up while Avery vacuumed. When I went out into the workroom, I found Rose and Liz looking over Alfred’s shoulder. I walked over to them.
“Did you find anything?” I asked.
Rose shook her head. She gestured at Mr. P.’s laptop. “Just a woman.”
“Let me see,” I said.
Alfred hit several keys, and black-and-white footage began to play. It took me a moment to orient myself; then I saw I was looking down at an angle at a section of the street that included the front door of the bakery. How on earth had the old man gotten the bank security video? Once again I decided that ignorance was bliss.
After a moment I saw a woman at the door. Was it Sloane? She turned her head, and I saw that it was. My heart began to race