I looked the gray suit up and down, pausing briefly to take in the bright red clogs.“Sharon, what are you—?”
“Wearing?” she finished for me, her smile returning. “I have a meeting with the show’s publicist, and I had no idea what they wanted from me, so a nice lady at the store helped me select this business suit. I hate it, but hopefully it will show I’m good at taking direction. She gave me shoes, too, but they were terribly uncomfortable. Luckily these clogs from my visit to New Amsterdam paired nicely.” She paused to suck in a quick breath. “I know Chessy is the star, but I’m the one who signed all the papers, so…”
“You look great, Sharon,” Charles said with a friendly grin. “Very professional.”
She blushed mightily.“Why, thank you, kind sir.”
Charles shifted his weight on the bed, jostling me in the process. Sharon sat opposite us on Octo-Cat’s bed while he worked on his fish filet on the floor.
“Hey, Sharon,” Charles said, balling up his burger wrapper and tossing it back in the bag. “While we have you here, maybe you can help us with something.”
Sharon straightened her posture and placed her hands in her lap.“Anything.” She was batting her eyelashes again. Oh, brother.
“You said you found some information about Marilyn’s trials,” Charles reminded her.
“Yes, but the records were sealed.”
This didn’t deter Charles one bit. “I may be able to get around that, if I find the right people to ask.”
Sharon and I both looked to Charles askance.
He waved off our concern.“If I can find out where any of the cases took place, I can contact the prosecutor’s office and let them know I’m working on a family case. See what they can tell me.”
“Sure, let me just email you my notes,” Sharon said, pulling out her phone. When that was taken care of, she leaned toward me. “Not only is he handsome, he’s brilliant, too,” Sharon confided in me with a whisper more than loud enough for Charles to hear too.
This time Charles was the one to blush mightily.
Octo-Cat’s muffled voice rose to meet my ears. “And here I thought you were the only one crazy enough to join the UpChuck fan club,” he said around a mouth full of food. “Looks like you aren’t even the president, anymore.”
This was getting ridiculous. I wasn’t threatened in the least, but I still scooted closer to Charles on the bed and rested my head on his shoulder.
“You are a lucky, lucky girl, Angie Russo,” Sharon said. “Now don’t you forget to invite me to the wedding. It is my new life mission to land myself an uncle or a cousin. If they’re half as perfect as your Charles, I’ll die a happy woman… Now let me see that beautiful ring of yours again.”
“Um, actually, it disappeared while I was taking a nap,” I admitted with a frown.
“It’s missing?” Sharon’s eyes widened and she let out a huff. “Well, it’s got to be around here somewhere. Want me to help you look?” she offered, sliding off the bed and onto her feet.
I stood, too.“Yeah, we searched everywhere, but—”
Sharon nodded sympathetically, then glanced toward the digital clock that hung on the wall opposite.“Oh, shoot! I can’t stay to help, or I’ll be late! Call me later! We’ll find that ring—and that grandmother—yet. Don’t you fret!”
And then Sharon ran off so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.
14
“That was weird,” I said, watching as the glass door bounced back open following Sharon’s sudden departure.
“You don’t think she…?” Charles let his words trail away as he got up to push the door shut as best he could.
I tilted my head and scowled at him.“Are you actually suggesting she stole my ring?”
“She doesn’t seem to have a problem entering without permission, and well…” His words fell away again, and he shrugged.
“She has a big, fat crush on you. Is that what you wanted to say? That she is so smitten for you that she stole the ring so she can fantasize about being your bride?”
“Smittenwith,”Charles corrected with a sigh.“And, well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that, but it’s not like we have any other leads to go on.”
“Sharon is my friend,” I reminded him. “If anyone stole my ring, it’s that nasty Millicent.” True, Sharon had only been my friend for a week, but she’d made up for her bad first impression, unlike the owner of this bed-and-breakfast who just kept making things worse every time we ran into her.
Charles sat back on the bed and placed an arm around my shoulders.“We’ll find it. I promise, but let’s try to figure this thing out with your grandma first, okay?”
I nodded.“You’re right. One thing at a time.”
“Exactly.” He got up to retrieve his work bag.
“So, I guess, you see what you can learn from what Sharon gave you, and I’ll check her social media.”
“Mommy!” Paisley let out a sharp bark to get my attention. “May I please go outside to play?”
“Right, okay.” I opened the door for her and watched her frolic toward the sandy beach. “I think I’ll go out, too. Keep an eye on her,” I told Charles. “Come get me when you’re ready to head back out?”
He gave me a hearty thumbs-up. He’d already pulled his laptop out and situated it onto his lap. You can take the guy out of the office, but getting the office out of the guy was a whole different story. Charles’s lawyer skills had come in handy many times before, and they just might be the thing to save the day now.
I’d be gutted if we had to leave Katahdin without ever meeting my grandmother. We just had to find her. We had to, and we would.
I approached the lake and found Paisley digging a hole in the sand. She didn’t even notice me as I approached.
“What’s that?” I asked when she pulled her head out with a small, black object in her mouth.
“It’s a pretty rock,” she mumbled, accidentally dropping her prize when she did. She yipped in surprise, grabbed it back up, and ran off with tail wagging. I was fairly certain my nan’s dog had just unearthed a clam but had no idea what she was actually doing with it. It’s not like she’d be able to crack open the hard shell and get at the meat inside.
I shrugged and continued cutting a path toward the dock. Well, whatever Paisley was up to, at least she was happy about it. Sometimes I envied her, how easy it was for her to see the best in every situation.
Me, on the other hand, I had a hard time not worrying about what would come next. Especially now.
I’d told Charles I would check Grandma Marilyn’s social media. Mostly it was because I’d have felt guilty if he dug deep into research while I sat around twiddling my thumbs.
Of course, I’d already checked her social media as soon as I knew her current name and location. I’d tried to find her before last night, but Jones wasn’t exactly an uncommon surname. I finally managed to find the correct profile yesterday evening while I was supposed to be relaxing in the tub.
Unfortunately, my grandmother hadn’t posted a single photo of herself during all her years on the site, assigning a simple stock-image daisy to serve as her profile picture.
She also rarely updated her status. When I checked last night, the most recent one had been made about eight months ago—commentary on some TV show she’d just started watching on some cable channel I’d never heard of.
I navigated to her profile now, expecting to see the exact same feed.
But no.
My grandma had posted an update less than an hour ago. We’d probably just left her neighborhood at the time.Whoa.
“Nothing beats sunny skies and sandy beaches! Hello, San Francisco!” she’d captioned a photo of the Golden Gate bridge.
Wow. Was she really clear on the other side of the country?
What dumb luck.
Of course, California made sense. Her phone had a Cali area code. Hey, maybe she was planning to move back and change her name again.
Then I’d never find her.