“Nonna told me about your wife and her friend,” Avery said. “I’m really sorry. And anyone who thinks you would hurt anybody is a moron.” She glanced at her grandmother. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like the word, but it’s true.”
Mac gave her a smile. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”
Avery looked around and spotted the collection of empty teacups waiting on the workbench. Turned into tiny planters, they were always popular with tourists. “Sarah, do you want me to start working on those?” she asked.
“Please,” I said. “The haworthia is out in the garage.”
Avery threw her arms around Liz. “I have work to do,” she said to her grandmother. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Liz kissed the top of her head. “Have a good day,” she said.
Avery headed outside and Liz walked into the store with Mac and me. “You’re right,” she said. “It was quiet while she was gone. It was worth having one of those hideous smoothies for breakfast just to have her back.”
“So what’s on your agenda for today?” I asked, putting an arm around Liz’s shoulders.
“I have a meeting at the bank and I’m having dinner with Channing Caulfield tonight,” she said.
“Business or pleasure?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I saw Mac try to stifle a smile as he moved across the room to unlock the front door.
“You’re a saucy miss,” she said tartly.
I put a hand on my chest and tried to look aggrieved. “I was just curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” she said, pointing a warning finger at me.
“And satisfaction brought it back,” I countered.
“I knew I was going to regret teaching you the rest of that.”
I laughed. “So is this a date with Mr. Caulfield?”
“It most decidedly is not,” Liz said firmly. “I’m looking for more information on du Mer. Small New England companies are one of Channing’s areas of expertise. I thought he might know something.”
“I appreciate this,” Mac said.
She reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder as he came level with her. “You’re family,” she said. “This is what we do.” She looked at the watch on her left arm. “I need to get going.”
“I’m not going to have to start calling Mr. Caulfield ‘Uncle Channing,’ am I?” I called after Liz.
She kept on walking but over her shoulder she said, “Watch it, missy. You can be replaced with one of those self-driving cars and a robot that vacuums.”
Mac had been watching us, arms folded over his chest. Now he smiled at me. “What would I do without all of you?” he asked.
I smiled at him. “Given the tenacity that the Angels have shown on other cases I don’t think you’re ever going to find out.”
Charlotte and I spent the first part of the day back out at Clayton McNamara’s house, continuing the inventory on the main floor of the house. There was so much furniture stuffed into the little rooms.
“This house is like one of those little cars at the circus that has about twelve clowns inside,” I said to Charlotte.
“Ah, but I bet none of those cars ever had a Big Mouth Billy Bass,” she said, holding up the musical prop which looked, from a distance, like a mounted trophy fish. In reality it was an animatronic novelty that had been very popular in the early 2000s.
“Does it still work?” I asked.
Charlotte pushed the button under the rubber fish and it lifted its head and began to sing “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”
I buried my face in the crook of my elbow so Clayton wouldn’t hear me laughing. I knew the musical fish would sell quickly, but I was thinking maybe I’d hang it in my office where I could make it sing to me the next time I got caught up in one of the Angels’ cases.
Midmorning, Clayton brought us coffee and I got a kick out of how he flirted with Charlotte—and how she was flirting back.
A bus tour stopped in at the shop late afternoon, which kept us all busy. We sold every one of the teacup planters Avery had made, along with several quilts and other small kitchen items. The man with the great hair who had been in the shop the previous day came back and I sold him a guitar, a 2006 Takamine cutaway. The acoustic-electric came with the original hard-shell case, and the buyer didn’t quibble over the price I was asking, but I felt confident we were both getting a great deal. Sam Newman had helped me set the price and he knew more about guitars than anyone I knew. I’d known Sam my whole life and he’d been playing a lot longer than that.
After the tourists had gone Mr. P. came downstairs with a cup of coffee for me. “Thanks,” I said. “I needed this.”
He smiled. “It’s my pleasure.”
“Have you come up with anything?” I asked after I had taken a long drink from the mug he’d handed me.
“As a matter of fact, I have.” He had a bit of a cat that swallowed the canary look about him. I’d seen that expression before. It meant that he was particularly pleased with whatever he’d unearthed. “I found Leila’s cousin, Stephanie. She’s living in Carrabassett Valley.”
“That’s easily doable,” I said, taking another sip of my coffee. “It’s just a couple of hours’ drive. When do you want to go?” I knew Liz would be happy to make the trip but truth be told I wanted to meet Stevie and I had the illusion—even though I knew it was probably misplaced—that if I went along Rose and Mr. P. would get into at least a little less trouble.
The latter smiled at me now. “I was hoping you’d say that, my dear. Will tomorrow morning work for you?”
Mac had been getting the vacuum out from under the stairs. I knew he’d heard the conversation. I looked over at him.
“I’ll open,” he said. “Avery and Charlotte will be here. We can take care of everything.”
Avery and Charlotte were just coming in from the workroom.
Charlotte nodded. “Of course we can,” she said. Then she looked at me and frowned. “What are we taking care of?”
“Here, Saturday,” Avery said. “So Sarah and Rose and Mr. P. can go talk to Mac’s wife’s cousin.”
We all looked at her.
“Yeah, I was eavesdropping.” She shrugged. “You all know I do that so if you don’t want me to know stuff you should talk quieter.”
“Saturday’s covered,” Mac said with a smile.
Mr. P. turned to look at him. “Thank you, Mac,” he said.
Mac brushed off the front of his jeans and came over to us. “I don’t need any thanks,” he said, “but I owe them to you.”
“We’re happy to be able to help,” Mr. P. said.
Mac shook his head. “I know I sound like a broken record but I can’t believe that Stevie would hurt Leila. They spent a lot of time together as kids and Stevie was very supportive of Leila when she started the company. And why would she kill Erin?”
“We aren’t going to see Stephanie to prove she killed Erin,” Mr. P. said, hiking up the waistband of his pants. He had an unfortunate tendency to wear them up in his armpits. Given that I’d once rocked overalls with one strap hanging down and combat boots—in the summertime—I wasn’t going to criticize. “We’re going to see Stephanie to learn more about Leila from someone she grew up with. We’re fact-finding. You’ve seen us do that before with other cases. Scientia potentia est.”
“Thomas Hobbes,” Charlotte said approvingly. “Knowledge is power.” Charlotte had coached the high school debate team and I knew the quote was one of her favorites.
Avery had her head under the table where she’d been changing the linens before going out to the workroom to help Charlotte find a box of snow globes Jess and I had bought at an auction. “Actually the quote was used hundreds of years before Hobbes by a seventh-century imam who wrote ‘Knowledge is power and it can command obedience.’” Avery straightened up and looked at us. “That’s the English translation. He wrote in Arabic.” She smiled at us and headed back out to the workroom to get something. “I love knowing things,” she called over her shoulder. “It freaks out adults.”