“I said I’d bring lunch,” Liz said. “I didn’t say anything about cooking,”
Rose gave me a quick smile and turned back to Liz. “I’m going to give Sarah cooking lessons when all this upset with Maddie is over.”
“Won’t that be fun?” Liz said dryly.
“You can come if you need to brush up on your skills.”
“As long as I can call for takeout I’m fine.”
I could see where this was going. Time to change the subject. “So, what’s happening?” I said to Rose.
She shot Mr. P. another quick smile and then focused on me. “Alfred is going to help us figure out who really killed Arthur Fenety. He’s a computer genius.”
I looked at Mr. P.
“I don’t know if I’d say genius,” he said, ducking his head modestly.
“You didn’t say genius. I did,” Rose said. “And you are.” She took Mr. P.’s arm with her free hand. “The office is all set up. Come take a look and see if there’s anything else you need.”
“I’m sure everything’s fine,” he said. He couldn’t stop looking at Rose, and there was something about the expression on his face that made me think of a love-struck sixteen-year-old boy. It occurred to me that he would have happily followed her off the edge of a cliff.
Mr. P. had a thing for Rose. Oh, great.
I turned to look at Liz, raising my eyebrows.
Liz held up her hands. “Don’t look at me,” she said. “All I did was pick up lunch—and Alfred.”
I leaned over, put my arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “I will get you for this,” I whispered. Then I headed for the cash register, where a customer was waiting.
Mac came in a few minutes later. “Table’s all sanded,” he said. “Do you want to see what I’m thinking about for stain?”
I nodded. “I do. Let me get Charlotte and I’ll come out and take a look.”
“Okay,” Mac said.
I headed for the storeroom door. “By the way, Liz brought lunch,” I said.
“That’s not all she brought, I see.” He tipped his head in the direction of the sunporch. “That’s Mr. Peterson, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Interesting.”
I shook a finger at him. “Oh no. We are not using that word in here for the rest of the day. It’s already gotten me in enough trouble.”
He laughed and made a shooing motion with one hand. “Go find Charlotte.”
Charlotte and Rose were with Mr. P. in their new “office.” Liz was unpacking lunch, dividing the food between two metal TV trays. Someone had brought in a black wicker chair and Elvis was perched on it, watching Liz’s every move. “Charlotte, could you keep an eye on the cash for a few minutes?” I asked. “I just need to look at some stain samples with Mac. You can take your lunch right after that.”
“Of course,” she said. She looked at Rose. “I’ll be right back.”
I linked my arm through Charlotte’s as we walked back to the front of the building. “Mr. P. likes Rose,” I said.
She smiled. “You noticed.”
“It’s kind of hard not to. He’s like a love-struck teenager.”
“Alfred is a nice man,” Charlotte said, glancing back over her shoulder. “That whole incident over at Legacy Place aside. He’s very popular with the ladies.”
I leaned my head against her. “You know that if he hurts Rose in any way I’ll have to have a serious talk with him.”
“I know,” she said. She reached over and laid a hand against my cheek. “And speaking of talks, thank you for whatever you said to Nicolas.”
“I didn’t have to say much,” I said. “Nick loves you.”
“I know.” She shook her head. “He also thinks I’m a hundred and two and should be home, in a rocking chair, with a shawl around my shoulders.”
I laughed. “C’mon, Charlotte. He’s not that bad.”
She smiled. “All right. He’s not. But he doesn’t understand why we need to help Maddie. I’m glad you do. I’m glad you’re on our side.”
As far back as I could remember, Charlotte and Rose and Liz had been in my life. They were a cross between Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother and Mother Teresa. I’d never for a moment doubted how much they loved me.
I laid my head on her shoulder for a moment. “I’m always, always on your side,” I said.
Mac took me out to the workshop to show me his choices for the table stain. “That one,” I said immediately, pointing to the darkest of the four choices.
“That was my choice, too,” he said.
We talked about paint colors for the table legs and then I headed back to the shop.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Mac called after me.
I lifted a hand in the air to show I’d heard him.
Liz was waiting for me by the door to the sunporch. She handed me two cardboard takeout containers.
“Thank you,” I said. “What do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder. Mr. P. was showing Rose something on his computer screen.
Rose looked up from the computer then and beckoned to me. I handed the food containers back to Liz and walked over to her.
“Alfred needs the—” She looked at Mr. P.
“Password for the Wi-Fi,” he said.
“Are you going to be doing anything illegal?” I joked, smiling so he’d know I was kidding.
“Not that could be traced back here,” he said. His expression was completely serious and for a moment I wondered if he was, too.
I gestured at the keyboard. “May I?” I asked.
Mr. P. nodded and I leaned over and typed in the long combination of letters and symbols that made up the password. “There you go,” I said.
Rose smiled. “Thank you, Sarah.” She caught my hand and gave it a squeeze.
I retrieved lunch from Liz just as Mac came in the back door. “I’ll be out front if you need me,” I told her.
I sent Charlotte back to eat with the others. Mac pulled out the low stool we kept behind the counter and I sat in the tub chair.
“We should make another one of those,” Mac said, gesturing at my seat with his chopsticks. “How many times has someone wanted to buy that one?”
“At least half a dozen,” I said, taking the lid off my container of Chinese chicken salad. Second Chance wasn’t usually busy at lunchtime. Today wasn’t any different. Mac and I ate our lunch and talked about when we could pick up the furniture from Mabel Harrington’s house.
“It’s awfully quiet back there,” I said, as he collected our containers to be rinsed and recycled.
“Go see what they’re doing,” Mac said. “You know you want to.”
I stood up and stretched my arms up over my head. “I do,” I said. “I’m just kind of afraid of what I might find them doing. What if Mr. P. has hacked into the police-department computer?”
Mac smiled. “Then you’d better hope he’s as good as he says he is.”
“You’re not helpful,” I said over my shoulder as I headed for the back of the building.
I could hear him laughing behind me. “I wasn’t trying to be,” he said.
In the sunroom Mr. P. was still working on his laptop. I decided that if I didn’t look at what he was doing I had plausible deniability if I needed it. Liz, Charlotte and Rose were sitting by the windows, talking.
I stuck my head around the doorframe. “Hi. Do you need anything before I head up to my office?”
Rose looked up. “Sarah, do you still have Tuesday’s newspaper?” she asked.
“I think it’s in the recycling bin.”
“It’s all right,” Mr. P. piped up. “I already retrieved it from their Web site.”
Rose smiled and Mr. P. glowed. “I guess we don’t need anything, then,” she said. She looked at her watch. “Is there anything special you’d like me to do this afternoon?”
“Would you unpack the last of those quilts?” I asked. “They seem to be popular with the leaf peepers.”
“I will. Would you like me to put out more of the Depression-glass plates, as well?”