20

By the close of business, and after two and a half days of surveillance, my friends and I have a list of people going in and out of Restaurant Hubert, complete with dates and times, and we’ve cross-referenced it with people coming and going from Gusty’s. We’ve also determined that Mom had a car at that location, confirming my hunch about a man in the field.

This hasn’t been easy. It’s the Fourth of July holiday, and the town’s having its typical influx of strangers. That means extra license plates, along with changes to note in family composition, attire, and general behavior. Plus, we’ve been a little distracted by Dad’s picnic menu, along with the clowns on the fire truck during Sunday’s noon lunch hour (we went out to hoot).

By the close of the weekend, our list has about twelve persons of interest who’ve gone to both restaurants. Some we know by name. Some we can only describe. We get together on my porch to discuss the matches.

I chew on the end of a pen as I read our results from a spreadsheet that Dominic put together. “So, it’s the young couple with the toddler with the messy face and hands; an old man with a walker who doesn’t look like he’ll make it through the week; Mr. and Mrs. Boardman, who are regular Maiden Rock summer people; Martin the Lone Man; the Lewises; Slick; Mrs. Billingsley; and—what—the sisters!?”

“Oh, your dad’s not going to like Sister Rosie and Sister Ethel eating at Restaurant Hubert,” Ella says.

“I think they’re just curious.” I tap my pen on their names.

“I don’t know,” Ben says and raises his eyebrows. “Maybe we should keep them on the list.”

Ella and I look at each other for a long moment. “It’s not like they’re angels,” she says. “But they do come into Gusty’s every day. And they clearly love the place. And they’ve tried to help with these goofy recipes. What’s their motive for being in cahoots with Hubert?”

“Maybe he’s making a big donation to their cat-rescue fund?” says Ben.

Dominic laughs. “From what I hear, they have learned their lesson about fundraising.”

“Really,” Zoe says, “I can’t see Sister Rosie as a cat burglar.”

“Oh, yeah?” says Ben. “Sister Ethel’s got some moves. I mean, she can handle a boat like a demon.”

I decide to leave them on the list but put them at the bottom.

“What do we really think about these names? Do we need to watch them all?” Ella asks.

“We know Martin is a suspect,” I say. “And Slick, for sure. And Mrs. Billingsley? If anything, she’s punishing Hubert by also eating at his restaurant. Especially if she’s telling him to warm the bowls or whatever too. Mr. and Mrs. Boardman are a ‘no way.’ They’ve been coming to Gusty’s forever. The hundred-year-old man? He moves at the speed of a turtle. But the Lewises? I wouldn’t have guessed the Lewises might make the suspect list. Still, we need to put eyes on them. Them and the messy toddler family.”

“When you think about it,” Ella says, “either of the messy toddler’s parents are fit enough to manage a break-in. The toddler could be a decoy.”

“Where do the Lewises live, anyway?” Zoe asks. “I don’t think they’re Maiden Rockers.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “You know, they don’t eat like normal people. They’re always picking off each other’s plates.”

“People do that all the time,” Ella says and gives Ben’s leg a bump. “Ben eats most of my food.”

Ben smiles. “Sure, but not till you’re done with it.”

Dominic says, “Between the Lewises and the toddler parents, I’m going with the toddler parents. They’re more likely to be friends with Hubert, fit enough to sneak into the café and do the deeds, and smart enough to have jammy-kid cover.”

I laugh at that last part, but Dominic is serious. “The kid is an authentic touch.”