I leaned forward, putting both hands on the table. “Wait a minute. What do you mean, you don’t care what he said?”
“He told me he’d changed. He said he’d call me in the morning and he’d give me the money he took from my mother.” He looked at me. “Yeah, I didn’t tell you the truth about that, either.”
“What did you do after you talked to Arthur?”
“I went back to the place where I was staying and got in the bathtub with a bunch of oatmeal. It was supposed to help.” He rubbed his hand over his left arm. “I told you, the damn thing itched like a bugger. I spent the afternoon getting drunk and half the night heaving my guts out.”
I looked at Liz.
“Ask them at the inn,” he said. “They’ll tell you. I didn’t kill Fenety. I wanted to get back everything he took from my mother. I couldn’t do that if he was dead.”
Liz and I left Jim Grant to his lunch and walked back to the SUV.
“We should go back to the Rosemont, just in case he’s still not telling the truth,” Liz said.
I nodded. Even without my feline lie detector I was certain Jim Grant had been honest. And it turned out I was right. The staff at the Rosemont confirmed that Jim Grant had returned to the inn just after noon on Monday, his left arm swollen and covered in welts from the poison ivy. He’d spent a half an hour in an oatmeal bath the housekeeper had gotten ready for him, and then proceeded to get standing-up-falling-down drunk in the lounge.
“I was so sure I was right,” I said to Liz as we stood on the sidewalk outside the inn.
“So, now what?” she said.
I shook my head. I was at a loss. “I don’t know.”
Chapter 24
When we got back to the shop I pulled into my parking spot, shut off the engine and leaned my head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry,” I said to Liz.
“What for?” she asked.
“For being wrong about Jim Grant. For getting everyone’s hopes up that we could prove Maddie is innocent.”
“I thought it was him, too,” she said.
I opened my eyes and looked at her.
“We’ll figure something out.” She reached over to pat my arm. “We always do.”
“We may as well go in,” I said. “I can’t hide out here all day.”
Liz already had her door open. “Well, of course not,” she said. “I don’t think that windshield has a UV coating. All the sun would give you wrinkles.”
I smiled at her. “I love you,” I said.
She was already starting across the parking lot and she waved a hand at me. “Yeah. Everybody does,” she said.
Rose had gotten back just before we did. Michelle and the prosecutor had agreed to consider Aleida’s statement, but for now the charges against Maddie were still in place.
“It’s better than what I have,” I said. I filled them in on what Liz and I had learned.
“So, if Jim Grant didn’t kill Arthur, who did?” Rose asked, brushing bits of paper off the front of her apron.
“It had to be one of his other wives or someone from their families,” Charlotte said.
“So how do we figure out who?” Liz asked.
I raked both hands through my hair. “For now I guess we just get Mr. P. to keep on digging.”
I headed up to my office to check my messages. After about ten minutes there was a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I called.
It was Mac. “Rose brought soup back with her. I heated some up for you.”
“Thanks,” I said, moving around the desk to take the oversize mug he’d brought me.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sarah,” he said. “You’ll figure something out. Or maybe the police will.”
“I encouraged them,” I said, leaning back against the desk. “I got involved in their ‘investigation’ and then I let them down.”
“No, you didn’t,” he said. Elvis had wandered in behind him and the cat meowed loudly as if in agreement. “See?” Mac said. “He agrees with me.’
I laughed and stirred the soup with my spoon. “You two aren’t exactly unbiased.”
“And neither are you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Nobody else would have taken those three seriously. Nobody else would have driven all over town, trying to prove Maddie Hamilton didn’t kill Arthur Fenety.” He smiled. “They love you. They’re not disappointed.”
Right on cue Elvis meowed again. “Thanks, Mac,” I said. I looked down at the cat. “You too.”
I ate the soup Mac had brought me and then I returned some phone calls while Elvis sat in the middle of my desk, washing his face. When I finished I leaned back in my chair.
“I wish we knew a little more about Arthur’s past,” I said to the cat.
He climbed down onto my lap, walked his front paws up my chest and rubbed his face against the side of mine. I reached up to scratch behind his ear and he laid his head against my shoulder.
“I’d like to talk to Daisy again,” I said. “She’s the best source of information we have. She’s the only one we have.”
He murped in agreement. At least that’s what I decided the sound meant.
I gave him one last scratch, set him on the floor and stood up. “So, what am I going to use for an excuse to talk to the woman again?”
Elvis walked across the small space to a stack of boxes packed with an eight-piece set of china that was going to auction in a week. He scrapped at the bottom box with one paw and then looked at me.
China. Daisy Fenety was looking for pieces of that daisy-patterned china. If I could find a piece or two I felt certain she’d come to the shop to see it.
“You’re a genius,” I said. Elvis straightened up and swiped a paw across his face, almost as though he were saying, “Of course I am.”
I went downstairs and out onto the sunporch. Mr. P. was on his laptop, eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying over the keys. Rose was in a chair beside him.
“Mr. P., do you have a moment to look for something for me?” I asked.
“Certainly I do,” he said. “What is it?”
“I’m looking for a piece of china. The pattern is called Daisy May.”
“Isn’t that the china Arthur’s sister collects?” Rose asked.
I nodded. “I want to talk to her again, and I don’t think she’s going to want to help us prove Maddie’s innocence. She thinks Maddie is guilty. I thought if I had a piece of the china maybe I could get her into the shop.”
“It’s a little old-fashioned, you know,” Rose said.
“You’ve seen the china?” I said.
“Heavens, yes,” she said. “My next-door neighbor has a china cabinet full of it. And she never uses it.”
The lightbulb went on for both of us at the same time.
“Do you think she’d loan you a couple of pieces?” I asked.
“The woman has a wicked sweet tooth,” she said. “For a cake she’d probably loan me a kidney.”
“A cup and saucer or a gravy boat will be just fine,” I said. “Tell me what you want from the grocery store and I’ll get it. Butter, chocolate, baking . . . stuff. Give me a list.”
Rose reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I have all the baking stuff I need. I think I’ll make my devil’s food cake with whipped chocolate frosting. Don’t worry. I’ll have a cup and saucer or a gravy boat for Monday morning.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Maybe I can find out something from Daisy that will at least point us in the right direction.”
“Alfred is looking into all of Arthur’s wives that we know about,” Rose said. “I’m not giving up, Sarah.”
“Neither am I,” I said.
She held up her hand, palm facing out, and I realized she wanted to high-five me. So I did. I figured why not? Maybe it would bring me some good luck. We could use it.
It was a busy day. The fall foliage was at its peak and we had tourists in and out all day. By five o’clock my feet hurt, but I remembered to stop at the grocery store. I carried two canvas shopping bags into the house, trailed by Elvis.