“Fabio Shakespeare?” said Odelia.
“I see Alicia already mentioned him. Fabio’s been staying at the old gamekeeper’s cottage, with Grace sitting for her portrait. Only I think she’s become more to the man than just a model. I think they’ve become lovers, as well, and it wouldn’t surprise me if they took off together, since Fabio disappeared around the same time Grace did.”
“Do you mind if we take a look at the cottage?” asked Odelia.
“No, by all means be my guest,” said Jock. “And if you find that her disappearance is, in fact, troubling, as my daughter seems to think, I’ll be the first one to call the police. But until then I’m pretty sure this is another one of her flings that ended with a trip abroad.”
“She doesn’t, by any chance, have tracking software on her phone, does she?” asked Odelia.
“I’m not the kind of husband who believes in keeping track of his wife’s every move, Miss Poole,” said Jock with a tight smile.
“Does she have her own car? Did she take it?”
“She does have her own car, but it’s still in the garage, so they probably took Fabio’s,” said Jock.
“I’m so sorry about this, Jock,” said Marge. “Grace was always a little… independent.”
“You mean unreliable. And you should know. She was your best friend, as I recall.”
Odelia stared at her mother. “You didn’t tell me you and Grace were friends, Mom.”
“Grace was my best friend, yes, and so when she betrayed me, it hit me hard.”
“I’m truly sorry about what happened, Marge,” said Jock now, taking her hands in his and pressing them warmly. He looked sincere. “What can I say? I was young and foolish.”
“We were all young and foolish, Jock.”
“Yes, but I was an idiot for letting you go. I should have listened when you said I was making a big mistake. Of course back then I was completely smitten with Grace. Blinded by her good looks and her flirtatious attitude.”
“That’s all in the past now, Jock. No sense in rehashing ancient history.”
“I know, but look at you now. Married to a doctor, with a gorgeous, successful daughter. You really did well for yourself.”
“You did pretty well for yourself, too, Jock. And your Alicia is lovely.”
“She is, isn’t she?” said Jock, glowing at the mention of his little girl. “She’s the light of my life. Grace and I have made a mess of things—I won’t conceal that our marriage is a bust—but we did one thing right and that’s Alicia. She’s our one saving grace.”
And with these words, he excused himself and walked out.
“So what do you think?” asked Odelia. “Did Grace leave under her own steam, or was she taken?”
“I have no idea, but I’m sure you’ll find out, honey.”
“Only if you help me.”
“Odelia! I’m not a detective.”
“And neither am I. I’m just a reporter.”
“With a knack for detection.”
“You know Grace. She was your best friend. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s you, Mom.”
“I can’t just close up my library for a couple of days or weeks, honey.”
“No, you do your library, and we’ll try and find out what happened to Grace after hours. I have a feeling Jock is right, and that she simply up and left and will be in touch any day now. But in the meantime I don’t want to disappoint Alicia, either.”
“No, you’re right,” said Marge as she glanced through the window. In the distance, half-obscured by a large willow tree, they could see the gamekeeper’s cottage. “And you probably have a point. The fact that I used to know Grace could work to our advantage.”
“So we’re doing this?”
“Okay, fine. I’ll help you find Grace. But don’t tell your dad. He might not appreciate me hanging around the Farnsworths—well, Jock, in particular.”
Odelia laughed. “Wait, what?”
“The fact that I used to date Jock Farnsworth made your dad feel pretty insecure. And I don’t think that feeling has completely gone away over the years. So I’ll help you, but only if you don’t tell your dad. Deal?”
Odelia was still smiling. Hard to believe her dad would be jealous of Jock Farnsworth after all these years. But she shook her mother’s hand. “Deal.”
Chapter 10
Gran had decided we needed to tackle this issue together, as a team. She’d appointed herself the head of the CCREC, much to Harriet’s annoyance, I might add, and intimated she would create a blueprint for our first campaign, giving us a detailed script.
“We’ll start on Harrington Street,” she said. “These people need to be made aware of the need for cleanliness and hygiene and anyway, I’ve never liked our neighbors, so if this goes sideways, no harm done.”
“I actually like our neighbors, Max,” said Dooley. “So if this goes sideways aren’t we going to be welcome in our own neighborhood anymore?”
“It certainly looks that way, Dooley,” I said.
“This is going to be rough,” Brutus announced when Gran walked up to the first house and rang the bell.
“So you know the drill, you guys,” said Gran. “While I talk to the lord of the manor, you talk to his hairy mutt. It’s called a two-pronged approach and it can’t fail.”
“All right, Gran,” said Dooley dutifully.
“When did the CCREC become a human’s sideshow?” asked Shanille, grumbling a little. I had a feeling it wasn’t just Father Reilly who wasn’t a big fan of Gran, but his cat, too. Then again, pets often take after their owners, or is it the other way around? I can never remember. Or maybe it’s just a case of mutual influence.
The door flew open and a large man with a paunch, bald head and bulbous nose appeared. This was Odelia’s next-door neighbor Kurt Mayfield. Mr. Mayfield is a retired music teacher, and his one defining feature is that he hates cats. So it was with some trepidation that I now entered his home, in search of the dog Gran had suggested we bring under our fatal spell, while she worked her charm on its owner.
Mr. Mayfield, the moment he saw five cats slip between his legs, bellowed, “Hey! Get those cats out of here!”
A fine start for CCREC’s first-ever mission.
“Let’s you and I have a little chat first, Kurtis,” said Gran.
“The name is Kurt, not Kurtis,” Mr. Mayfield growled.
I’d decided to linger in the hallway, to keep abreast of Gran’s progress. In case she spectacularly failed her mission, we probably needed to abort and do so on the double.
“Did you know that my son, your chief of police, has launched a new campaign to improve the health and safety of our beloved community?” asked Gran, launching into her spiel. “And did you know that as a consequence of his campaign he requires upstanding citizens such as yourself to adopt a new rule prohibiting the deposit of dog excrement on our town’s sidewalks? Yes, that’s right, Kurtis Mayfield. From now on, it is strictly forbidden to take your dog out for a walk and allow him to soil our trees, our pavements, our parks and our waterways with his poo and with his pee.”
“It’s Kurt, and I don’t get it,” said Kurt now, scratching his shiny bald scalp. “What are you saying, Vesta, cause it all sounds like gibberish to me?”
“I’m saying that Wilbur Vickery has a great deal on litter boxes and you need to take advantage of this promotion and get yourself one of those fine items pronto and then you’re going to train that silly mutt of yours to take a dump in the box from now on.”
“You’re telling me to do what?!” Kurt vociferated.
“I’m telling you that your chief of police wants you to stop messing up the sidewalk with your dog’s disgusting crap, Kurtis. And if you can’t get that simple message through that thick skull of yours, I’ll make it even plainer: stop polluting my town or else!”