He shrugged. “That’s what Detective Andrews said, but I wanted to see for myself. I hope I haven’t offended you.”
“You haven’t,” I said. “You’re welcome to prowl around the store. Maybe that will put your mind at ease.”
He looked around the open space. “Thank you, but I don’t see anything that looks like hers. You don’t sell jewelry, do you?”
“No, we don’t,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Rose and Charlotte folding a quilt and trying not to be obvious as they eavesdropped. “There is a pawn shop just one street up from the harbor front, though.”
He ran his fingers over his bearded chin. “I’ve already been there.”
“I’m sorry Arthur Fenety took advantage of your mother,” I said, hoping I could somehow get him talking so he’d stay for a few minutes. “Madeline Hamilton is a family friend.”
“The woman they charged.”
I nodded. “She didn’t kill him.”
Jim Grant shrugged. “There are some people who wouldn’t blame her if she had. Fenety left some of those women he scammed penniless.” His face tightened with anger. “He took my mother’s silver and her good jewelry, which was bad enough because those things have memories for her. But she has her house and most of her money. Some of his so-called wives weren’t that lucky.”
Rose was making her way over to us. She was moving slowly, limping. Why hadn’t I noticed that earlier?
“Excuse me for interrupting,” she said, directing her attention to Jim Grant, “but I heard you mention Arthur Fenety’s name. Was he a friend of yours?”
Grant shook his head. “No. Arthur Fenety was certainly not a friend of mine.”
“He was a despicable man,” Rose said.
Jim Grant nodded. “You knew him, then?”
She nodded. “He was seeing my friend, Maddie Hamilton.” She held out her hand. “I’m Rose Jackson.”
“Jim Grant,” he said, taking her hand and shaking it, gently. “I heard your friend was arrested. I’m sorry.”
Rose patted his hand before she let go of it. “A man like that had to have known some very unsavory people. I’m sure the police will find out that it was one of them who killed him.”
Elvis had come down the stairs. He came across the floor and wound around Jim Grant’s legs. “Hello, puss,” he said, reaching down to stroke the top of the cat’s head. I was beginning to think there wasn’t anyone that the cat couldn’t charm. Just like the original Elvis, this one had charisma.
“I wish I’d gotten here a day sooner,” Grant said. “Then it would have been Fenety in a jail cell.”
“He took advantage of your mother,” Rose said. “The man was a heel and a reprobate.”
I looked down at Elvis. Something was annoying him. He had the same pissed-off look he’d gotten when we’d all had lunch together and Maddie had been petting him.
“I admit when I found out what he’d done there was a moment when I thought I could have killed him.” He shook his head. “It’s not a very good thing to admit to, is it?”
Rose reached out and touched his sleeve. “I understand completely. I’ve had a few dark impulses about the man myself.”
“Now that he’s dead I don’t have much hope of getting my mother’s jewelry back.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “When I got here Tuesday morning and checked into my hotel, the newspaper was on the desk by the phone. I’d been looking for Fenety for months. I admit it felt like some cosmic joke that he was dead just when I’d finally tracked him down.” He straightened up and brushed off his hands. “Thank you, Ms. Grayson,” he said, “for giving the police the tea set. At least we’ll get that back eventually.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t have any of your mother’s jewelry,” I said. I glanced down at Elvis. Whatever the aggravation was, it had passed.
Grant shrugged. “It was probably gone before Fenety even got here.”
He turned to Rose and smiled. “I hope things work out for your friend.”
Rose smiled sweetly back at him. She was playing the slightly befuddled little old lady to the hilt. “I hope you find your mother’s things.” She touched her watch. “I know how I’d feel if someone stole my memories.”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t laugh. I knew Rose’s watch had come from a Target store in Portland.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said, still looking at her watch. “Look at the time. I need to get home.”
She looked at me for the briefest moment. I knew I was supposed to do or say something. I just had no clue what.
“Umm, if you can wait a few minutes, I’ll drive you,” I said.
Rose shook her head. “No, no, dear. You have work to do. It’s not far. I’ll be fine.” She started to hobble toward the front door.
“Mrs. Jackson, I’m on my way back to my hotel,” Grant said. “Could I drop you somewhere?”
Rose hesitated. “I don’t want to put you out.”
He smiled. “You wouldn’t.”
She hesitated just a moment longer. I was shooting warning glances at her but she was pointedly ignoring them. Then she turned that smile on. “All right. Thank you. I don’t move as fast as I used to.”
He offered his arm and Rose took it.
“Thanks again,” he said to me, and the two of them went out the door.
Charlotte walked over to me. I pulled a hand back through my hair. “What the heck was that?” I said. “Who does Rose think she is? Meryl Streep?”
Charlotte smiled. “She’s detecting. Let her go.”
“That could be Arthur Fenety’s killer.”
“He couldn’t have killed Arthur. You heard what he said. He didn’t get here until Tuesday morning.”
“And of course murderers never lie,” I said. “I shouldn’t have let her go with him.”
“Rosie’s fine.” Mr. P. was standing in the storeroom doorway. He held up his cell phone. “She called my phone. I’m on speed dial. It’s a little muffled but I can hear what they’re saying.” He smiled proudly. “She’s pumping him for information.”
I raked my hand back though my hair again and watched some long strands float down to the floor. “I’m going to be bald,” I said to Charlotte.
She smiled and reached over to brush a strand of hair off my cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll knit you some very nice hats.”
But I did worry until Jim Grant had dropped Rose off at the medical clinic. I held out my hand. “Give me the phone,” I said to Mr. P.
“Sarah wants to talk to you,” he said, and then he handed it over.
“Hello, dear,” she said.
“Promise me you won’t do that again,” I said.
“Do what?”
“Go off with a man you don’t even know, who could be a murderer.”
She laughed. “Don’t be silly. James doesn’t have the grip strength to kill someone. Didn’t you notice what a limp handshake he has?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through my nose. It didn’t help. “Rose, Arthur Fenety was poisoned, not strangled.”
“Well, I know that,” she said with just a touch of exasperation in her voice. “But that limp handshake shows weakness of character. He’s a bit of a mama’s boy. Not a killer.”
“Okay,” I said, realizing that I wasn’t getting anywhere. “Just don’t take any more rides from people you don’t know. Please.”
“All right, dear. If it will make you feel better.” She was humoring me but that was okay. “Oh, and Charlotte’s taking the rest of my shift.”
“I noticed,” I said.
“Tell her she doesn’t need to cook. I’m bringing dinner.”
“I will,” I said. I handed the phone back to Mr. P. and relayed the message to Charlotte. When I turned back around he was tucking the phone in his pocket. “Good job finding Jim Grant’s picture,” I said. “And cooking up that phone business with Rose.”
He smiled. “Thank you.” He turned to head back to the sunporch. “Oh, and I found that woman.”