“I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” I said.
The two busloads of leaf peepers kept us busy until lunchtime.
Rose came in, looking dejected, to relieve Charlotte.
“You talked to Liz,” I asked.
“I did.” She shook out her apron and pulled the neck strap over her head. “There are at least half a dozen people in Maddie and Charlotte’s neighborhood that have that pesticide in their garage or garden shed.”
“Didn’t anybody pay attention to the ban?”
Rose tied her apron at her waist. “It doesn’t look that way,” she said. “The police are going to say Maddie had lots of opportunity to get the poison that killed Arthur.”
I leaned over and gave her a quick hug. “Maybe Alfred will come up with something.”
“I’m not giving up,” she said with a frown.
I smiled. “I didn’t think you would.”
Rose went to straighten a collection of old tin camp kettles. Mac was on the phone. I decided to go take another look at my morning’s treasures before lunch. As I went past the sunporch door Mr. P. beckoned to me. “I might have found something,” he said.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Do you remember what time Maddie said Arthur arrived?”
I thought for a moment. “Between quarter after and twelve thirty.”
“And you said his sister dropped him off at the park?”
I nodded. “She said it was such a nice day he wanted to walk.”
Mr. P. hiked his pants a little higher. Not that they were too low to begin with. “Sarah, how long do you think it would have taken him to walk to Maddie’s house?”
I shrugged and tried to picture the trail that ran through the woods and out to the sidewalk on the other side. “No more than ten minutes.”
“Which means his sister would have dropped him off sometime after noon.”
I nodded. “That sounds right.”
“Daisy Fenety was in the dentist’s chair at eleven forty-five.”
I frowned at him. “Do I want to know how you know that?”
He smiled. “I doubt that you do.”
“So, Daisy would have dropped him off around eleven thirty or so?”
Mr. P. nodded. “I think so.”
I rolled my shoulders forward to work out a kink. “Where was he for that extra time?”
Mr. P. nodded. “Exactly. I asked Royce Collins if he saw Arthur. He delivers flyers in that area Mondays and Fridays. He did.”
Royce had been the mail carrier in Charlotte’s neighborhood as far back as I could remember. I had no idea how old Royce was, but Gram always said you could set your watch by him.
“Did he say what time he saw Arthur?” I asked.
“Royce figures it was about eleven thirty.”
“Then it was,” I said. “That means there’s at least a half an hour unaccounted for.”
Mr. P. nodded. “Exactly.”
I left Mr. P. to see if he could figure out what had happened in the missing time and hoped he wouldn’t break any laws doing it.
I spent a chunk of the afternoon updating the store’s inventory list. Avery and I washed and dried all the dishes I’d brought from the motel, and Rose arranged some of the pieces on a long, low seventies-style buffet that Mac helped me set up in the window.
“Do you have any plans for dinner?” Rose asked.
I remembered then that I hadn’t gotten to the grocery store. Again.
“No,” I said.
“We’re going to McNamara’s for clam chowder and cheese biscuits. Why don’t you join us?”
“That sounds good,” I said. “Yes.” After the middle of September I’d decided not to keep the store open on Friday nights. There wasn’t enough business. “I have to take Elvis home first. What time should I meet you?”
“Six thirty,” she said.
I pulled the elastic out of my hair. “I’ll see you there,” I said.
Rose and Avery decided to walk to Liz’s and set out together. Mac wanted to put another coat of varnish on the top of the table. I was carrying a box of old sheet music to the car when Nick pulled into the lot.
He smiled when he caught sight of me.
“Hi,” he said, walking over to me and taking the box out of my hands.
“Hi,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to give you a heads-up that the police found a safe-deposit box belonging to Arthur Fenety. In Rockport.”
I exhaled loudly and shook my head. “Was there anything of Maddie’s in the box?” I asked.
“I can’t answer that, Sarah,” he said. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you about the safe-deposit box as it is, but I figured news would get around town pretty quickly, anyway.”
It was as close to a yes as I was going to get.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Thanks,” I said.
He smiled. “You’re welcome. I had fun last night.”
“It’s been a long time since you were up on that stage.”
He shifted—self-consciously it seemed to me—from one foot to the other. “It felt good.”
I smiled. “It sounded good, too.”
His smile got wider. “I’m going to pretend you’re not just trying to flatter me.”
“I wasn’t.”
Nick pulled his keys out of the pocket of his Windbreaker. “I’ll let you get back to work,” he said. “Tell Jess next time the chips are on me.”
“I’ll do that,” I said. I couldn’t exactly tell him he was the reason they’d actually been on me last night.
Nick headed for his SUV and I walked over to Mac. Behind him I could see Elvis prowling around the shed.
Mac was wiping down the top of the table. “Was Nick looking for his mother?” he asked.
I shook my head. “The police found Arthur Fenety’s safe-deposit box.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“I have a feeling it might be bad.”
Chapter 19
I took Elvis home, fed him his supper and turned on the TV, setting the sleep timer so it would shut off when Jeopardy! was over. I felt a little silly but I told myself setting up the television so my cat could watch a game show wasn’t any weirder than sticking a Santa hat on his head at Christmas, and people did that all the time.
I managed to fit in a run and a shower and still get to McNamara’s on time. The ladies were sitting by the window. Rose waved when she caught sight of me. It was busy inside—a typical Friday night—and the line went all the way back to the door. I squeezed my way inside. Charlotte stood up and gestured to the empty chair at the table. She mouthed something but the only word I caught was food. That was enough for me. I headed over to them, dodging elbows and oversize coffee cups.
“There was no clam chowder left,” she said. “So I got you broccoli-cheese soup, and roast beef on a whole-wheat roll.”
“You’re an angel,” I said, hugging her. “I need to talk to you about something,” I whispered against her ear.
She nodded almost imperceptibly as she let me go.
I pulled out my chair and sat down, smiling across the table at everyone. “How are you?” I asked Maddie.
“I’m all right,” she said. “I heard about your trip to the airport. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” I said. I studied her face, looking for any sign that she was lying, but I couldn’t see one. And she was lying. I was sure of it. Not about killing Arthur Fenety, but about something. The timeline just didn’t work out. But I needed to talk to Charlotte before I said anything. The broccoli-cheese soup was steaming with crisp croutons and slivers of Swiss cheese on top. Charlotte had also gotten me a cup of coffee, and for a few minutes I ate and let the conversation swirl around me.
I’d eaten about half my soup when Jess walked in. She waved and walked over to us.
“Hi,” she said, reaching down to swipe the pickle off my plate.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I was hungry. I kind of lost time sewing.”
“Get something to eat and come and sit with us,” Rose urged.