Dan sat in a back booth, Ruthie opposite him, white coffee mugs in front of them. Ruthie was talking intently. Dan seemed to be listening equally as intently.
Mary hesitated a moment but she was sure she knew what they were talking about so she wouldn’t be interrupting. She stood beside the booth, waiting for a lull.
‘Where’s Millie?’ Dan looked at her then at the floor, as if he expected to see her sitting beside the booth.
‘At home and not happy about it. Where’s Morgan?’
‘Ellen’s dropping him off at the station. Agnes is going to dog-sit while we have lunch.’
Mary couldn’t repress a laugh. ‘That should be fun for both of them.’
‘Yeah, well …’
‘Who’s Morgan?’ Ruthie’s head bobbed back and forth like she was watching a tennis match. ‘And, Mary, will you please sit down? My neck is going to give out any minute now.’
‘Dan and Ellen’s new dog.’ Mary dropped onto the bench next to Ruthie, who looked incredulously across the table at Dan.
‘You got a dog?’
Dan smiled and nodded. ‘He’s a three-cornered dog. Some kind of hound. His name’s Morgan.’
‘What kind of name is that for a dog?’ Ruthie was still shaking her head when the dark-haired waitress from yesterday slipped a mug of coffee in front of Mary. She smiled at Dan and held the pot aloft. He shook his head.
‘I used to have a dog named Morgan.’
Dan looked up at her, surprise written all over his face. ‘You did?’
She nodded. ‘I read a book about a dog with that name, so when I got a puppy for my twelfth birthday, that’s what I called him. It’s a great name.’ She smiled again and walked off.
Mary snatched up her mug and held it in front of her face. Dan wouldn’t appreciate it if she started to laugh, which was a distinct possibility. That dog was never going to be called Spot. ‘Are you two talking about Richard and Gloria’s lunch?’
Ruthie nodded.
‘I was asking Ruthie if she was sure Richard threatened Gloria. Did he say what with?’
‘What do you mean?’ Ruthie looked at Dan with a blank stare. ‘Like, did he say I’ll bash you over the head and roll you down the hill? No.’
‘What did he say?’ Dan looked at Ruthie’s face, which had begun to take on a stubborn look, and hastened to add, ‘As close as you can remember.’
‘He said, ‘“It’s mine and I want it back.”’
‘What was Gloria doing? Did she answer him?’
‘She didn’t say anything that I heard, just shook her head. When she saw me she stopped doing that. He didn’t say anymore, either. But he must have said something after I went because it was no time at all before Gloria just up and left.’
Dan leaned forward, arms on the table, no expression on his face or in his voice. ‘What did Richard do?’
‘I don’t really know. I had another order to get out and when I turned around, he motioned for the check. I went over – their plates had hardly been touched – and asked if he wanted a doggie bag. He looked at his sandwich and shook his head as if the very sight of it made him ill. He said he’d pay for both lunches. I gave him the check, he laid money on the table and left. And that’s what I’ve got to do. Is Ellen coming? You all going to have lunch? Let me know when you’re ready to order.’
Ruthie made shoeing motions at Mary, who slid out, waited for Ruthie to leave and seated herself again.
‘What do you think?’ Mary asked.
‘About what? Richard and Gloria not having lunch? Someone bashing Gloria Sutherland over the head and throwing her body down the hill? Or Miss Emilie’s missing money?’
‘You don’t have to sound so sarcastic about it.’ Mary pushed Ruthie’s coffee mug out of her way and set hers in its place.
‘Sorry. I’m getting frustrated. The CSI guys didn’t come up with a thing in Gloria’s house. They’ve got a few stray fingerprints they’re running, but that’s all. No blood, nothing to show anyone searched the place, nice clean kitchen, bed made, nothing to show what time she was in the house last. She must have been killed somewhere outside, but so far we haven’t come up with where. And before you ask, we don’t know what she was hit with, either. Probably a rock and whoever did it probably threw it down the hill after her.’
‘She was hit, first?’
‘The coroner confirmed it. She was dead when she took her tumble down the hill.’
‘You haven’t found any trace of the money?’
‘Not in her house, not in her bank accounts, nor any other place we’ve looked, and believe me, we’ve looked.’ By the look on his face, Mary didn’t think he was going to enjoy his lunch very much. He looked as if he needed a Pepto-Bismol more than whatever was on special today.
‘Maybe I can help.’
‘How?’ That single word came out guarded, hopeful and suspicious all in one.
‘I’ve found something. A key.’
Dan simply stared at her for a minute that stretched out to two minutes. Finally he asked, ‘A key to what?’
‘I think it’s the key to a box in Miss Emilie’s room, one she evidently kept all her secret things in for, I guess, much of her life. It’s locked. I don’t think anyone much cared. They thought it was full of old birthday cards, letters from friends, things like that. She used to keep the key in a little dish on her dresser, but according to Cassandra no one’s seen it in ages. They thought she lost it. She didn’t. It was in Willis, and I think the box might be full of money. The money she withdrew.’
Dan sat like a statue, not moving, not blinking, just staring at her. Finally, in a choked voice, he asked, ‘You found this key where and why do you think the money is in the box?’
How did she explain it? She’d known Miss Emilie for many years, had watched her slip into another world. One where none of them could follow. Hiding money, hiding a key, might have seemed a good idea to her. The key would be safe in Willis, the dog who her father always said would keep her safe. Her money could have seemed more secure in a box where she’d always kept her treasures. ‘The key was in her dog, Willis. I left him on the floor, which I never should have done, and Millie got him. She tore him apart, and there was the key. It took me a while, but then I remembered the box and knew this had to be the key that opened it. As for the money, it’s the only place I can think where she might have put it. It fits, the whole thing. I’m sure it’s there.’ She sat back and looked at Dan, who didn’t seem capable of speaking. ‘So, now, what are we going to do?’
‘Have lunch.’
‘And then?’
‘I … don’t know.’ Dan picked up his mug, brought it up in front of his face and held it there. ‘How did you come to have the dog, Willis? And, why is this the first I’ve heard of it?’
A fair question. She explained about Joy, how she’d found the dog in a box of donations, had recognized him as Miss Emilie’s and put him aside to give back then forgotten him. How she’d brought him to Mary, where he’d ended up in her closet until Millie got her teeth into him. Which was how the key happened to be on her bedroom floor. Which was when she remembered the box, how she’d handled it and realized it was locked and made the connection.
Dan’s eyes looked a little glazed over when she’d finished, but at least he nodded. ‘Where’s the key, now?’
Mary pulled her wallet out of her purse, opened the change compartment and laid the key on the table. ‘What are you going to do?’
Dan picked it up, held it for a moment then wrapped it in a paper napkin and slipped it into his shirt pocket. ‘I’d love to think this might have fingerprints on it that would point us to something useful, but I strongly doubt it. However, I need to have a talk with Richard Plym about several things. So, while I’m at the Plym house I guess I’ll have a look at that box. In the meantime, we’ll have lunch.’
‘Not me.’ Mary slid out of the booth and stood. ‘I need to get back. I have hot cross buns to ice and a million other things to get ready for tomorrow. Besides, I don’t like leaving Millie alone. Let me know what you find, will you?’
Dan grinned. ‘I’ll stop by if you promise me a hot cross bun.’
‘You’re on.’ She looked around. Ruthie was bearing down on her, carrying another white bag and a check.
‘You need lunch, and I knew you wouldn’t take the time to eat it here, not with the rummage sale tomorrow, so here’s a sandwich. I’ll bring over a tray for the volunteers tomorrow, like I always do.’ She waved her hand as Mary started to rummage for her wallet. ‘Pay me later. Right now, get going.’
Mary thanked her and left.
It was a long afternoon. She finished the rolls, keeping a few out for Dan and Ellen, made sure she had everything she needed for the morning, called the radio station to make sure the last- minute announcements would be made, double-checked her volunteers knew when to turn up and that they’d actually be there, and did some housework. The entire time the questions surrounding the deaths of the two women never left her, nor did the mystery of the missing money. What had Dan found in that box? If the money wasn’t there, where was it? She was certain if they found the money they’d know the identity of the murderer. Although an idea was beginning to take shape, its image wasn’t sharp, at least not yet. Nor was how she’d go about finding out if she was right. This whole thing was about motivation. Unfortunately there was plenty of that to go around. Money, a lot of money, always provided someone with motivation to do the wrong thing. This time the wrong thing had gotten badly out of hand. She was beginning to expand on that thought when the back door opened and Dan walked in, Morgan at his side.
Millie had been dozing under Mary’s chair but was instantly on her feet, barking with what Mary thought was unrestrained joy. Morgan joined her, doing his best to balance on one hind leg while he pawed the air with his front feet, making happy growling noises.
‘For goodness’ sake, put them out!’ Why she’d taken a young dog …
Dan laughed, opened the kitchen door once more, and shut it as they charged through. ‘OK. It’s safe to get up. Where’s my hot cross bun?’
Mary put a plate in front of him along with a mug. She filled it with fresh coffee and topped off her own.
‘All right, you’ve got your bun – where’s my information? What was in the box?’
Dan finished chewing the bite of bun he’d taken and swallowed. ‘You make the best hot cross buns I’ve ever had. I don’t like those little pieces of hard fruit but the raisins are great.’
‘Citron. The hard fruit, it’s citron. It’s used in fruitcake, too, at Christmas. What was in the box?’
‘You were partly right.’ Half the bun sat on the plate but Dan ignored it. ‘There was money in the box, but not nearly enough.’
Mary put her mug down and frowned at him. ‘What’s not enough?’
‘Miss Emilie took five hundred and fifty thousand dollars out of her account over the last eleven months. There were exactly eleven fifty dollar bills in the box – a total of five hundred and fifty dollars. They were in one of those envelopes the bank gives you when you take out cash.’
Mary had been afraid that would be the case. ‘What else was in the box?’
‘Nothing that’s going to be of help. Old birthday cards, theater programs, a few photographs of the twins with a couple of young men, one of her with one of the men. That kind of thing.’
Another wave of sadness washed over Mary, much like the one she’d experienced the first time she saw Miss Emilie’s room. Who was the man, and what had happened to end their relationship? If, indeed, there had been one. But feeling bad for Miss Emilie because she might have missed a lot of rewarding things in her life didn’t solve how she died and what happened to the rest of her money. ‘That means almost the whole amount is still missing.’
Dan nodded and reached for what remained of the hot cross bun. ‘It was a pretty interesting afternoon.’
‘I’m sure it was. Tell me.’
‘I thought Richard and I had better have our little talk about Gloria before we got to the grand opening.’
Mary smiled. ‘That must have been fun.’
‘I thought it was, but I don’t think he enjoyed it much. The very idea I could suspect him … I had quite a time getting him to stop threatening me with a lawsuit, getting me fired, which, since I’m the chief, might prove to be difficult, and listen. When I finally convinced him he wasn’t going out in handcuffs, at least not right then, he started to protest how Ruthie was eavesdropping and he hadn’t said anything like that to Gloria – merely wanted to know if she knew anything about the withdrawals. Says he didn’t say anything to her about how much money, just asked if she knew anything about them. He says Gloria got mad – he has no idea why – and stormed out. He then paid for what he called an inferior sandwich and also left. Says he never saw Gloria again. As for where he was on Sunday afternoon, he says he helped Cassandra pack up some things. Earlier, right after church, he went for a walk and doesn’t know where. Says he has no idea where Gloria’s house is and didn’t walk up any hills.’
‘Probably to cool off. He was rude to Les, to everyone within earshot of him. He is an angry man.’ She paused, thinking. ‘Are you sure Gloria was killed on Sunday? We were all up by her house that day. We didn’t see anything. Oh.’
‘Yes. We didn’t see anything, but the dogs smelled something. I think what they wanted to investigate wasn’t a fox. I think Gloria was already at the bottom of the hill. It fits with what the coroner said.’
Mary’s stomach churned. Richard had stomped out of church that morning and she had no idea where he’d gone, but he was alone. Caleb left right behind him, but he’d gone home. Had Richard … but he didn’t know where Gloria lived. She immediately rejected that. Finding Gloria’s address was a matter of minutes either on the computer or by looking in the phone book.
‘Ellen and I went through the Plym house on Monday. Richard went for a walk that day, too.’
‘Did he? Richard seems to like to walk. Do you remember how long he was gone?’ Dan sat up straighter and put down his untasted coffee.
‘It had to be way more than an hour. He stormed out when Ellen started to explain some forms they needed to fill out. Then we finished measuring the house. He came home while we were in the Duxworths’ apartment.’
‘How do you know that? Did you see him?’
‘Not exactly. He tripped the motion detector.’
‘He did what?’
‘The monitor thing is in the Duxworths’ apartment. It started to chirp and we all looked at it. Someone had come in the kitchen door. Cassandra said it must be Richard. He was there when Ellen and I left but no one else was, so it must have been him.’
‘So, Richard was gone more than an hour, and you don’t know where Lorraine or Caleb were?’
‘Caleb should have been at the grade school and Lorraine was at a Quilting Bee meeting. Why? Could Gloria have been murdered Monday morning?’
‘It’s possible. Sunday is more likely, but the weather’s been mild and the coroner gave us a pretty wide range.’
Neither of them said anything for a minute, and neither of them made any move to get up to let the dogs in, who were banging at the kitchen door.
Finally Mary asked, ‘What did Richard say when you told him about the key and that you wanted to see what was in the box?’
Dan’s smile this time was broad. Mary thought it held a trace of something that wasn’t humor. ‘He got downright chummy.’
‘Did he ask how we knew the key was in Willis?’
‘No. At this point Cassandra came in and Richard told her about the box and the key. We all went upstairs and opened it.’
‘What did they say?’
‘Cassandra just kept saying, “poor thing” over and over. Richard was all set to scoop up the money and got a wee bit testy when I told him it and the box were evidence and that I’d have to take them with me. Almost as bad as when I told him he had to have his fingerprints taken.’ Dan smiled. ‘If his show up in Gloria’s house, well, Richard and I will have another little talk.’
Mary’s hand jerked and her coffee sloshed on the table. She reached for a napkin and mopped it almost automatically. ‘Why would you think … I thought you said …’
‘They aren’t all Gloria’s.’
‘You think Richard might have …’
‘I think whoever bashed her over the head and threw her down the hill may have been in her house. If we find Richard’s, it will make the conversation even more interesting.’ Dan’s face was twisted with anger.
Mary had only seen that expression a couple of times before, and it had never been good news for whoever had engendered it.
‘Gloria wasn’t the most popular person in town but she didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and Miss Emilie certainly didn’t.’
‘All for some money,’ Mary said softly.
‘It looks that way.’ The scowl was retreating but Mary didn’t think he was any less angry, just under better control.
‘Dan, where were Caleb and Lorraine when you opened the box?’
‘Never saw them. Richard said there was no reason to involve them.’
‘Hmmm. Did you get into any of the other rooms upstairs? Richard’s, for instance?’
‘No.’ That she had surprised him there was no doubt. ‘Why?’
‘Just wondered. So, where does this leave us? Any further along?’
‘Not a lot. We know Miss Emilie kept some of the money, but not much, put it in her box for safekeeping and that she hid the key in that stuffed toy she carried around. But who took the rest of it and what they did with it we still don’t know. Whoever has that money has it well hidden. Probably has it under the bed in a cigar box.’ He pushed his chair back, picked up his plate and mug and set them in the sink. ‘I’ve got to get home. I’ll drop by the rummage sale tomorrow to see how it’s going. In the meantime, get some rest.’ He dropped a kiss on her cheek, let Millie in as he let himself out, grabbed Morgan as he followed Millie and left.
Mary sat for some time, thinking. Under the bed? In a cigar box? She didn’t think so, but what if … it was possible. The idea that had been forming in the back of her head started to take a more definite form. Where could someone hide a large sum of money other than in the bank? She didn’t think under the bed would work, but the money had to be somewhere. Who had known Miss Emilie took money out of the bank the first of every month just as she’d done for years? Half the town. But, who had known she’d taken out so much? Glen Manning, of course, and Dab Holt, the teller. Could Dab have been shortchanging Miss Emilie? She rejected that idea immediately. Dab had brought the withdrawals to Glen’s attention. If she’d been helping herself to some of it, she wouldn’t have. Lorraine? She said she didn’t know and there was nothing to say she did. Caleb? He had seemed genuinely shocked when he found out. What was it Dan had said? That he looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Cassandra and Richard? There was no way they could have known until Glen called them. Who else could have known? Gloria was the most obvious. Gloria the snoop. Gloria who was always around to ‘help’ Miss Emilie. But if Gloria had helped herself to the money, where was it? Who killed Gloria, and why?
Or, was she coming at this from the wrong end? Had Gloria died not because she had the money but because she knew who did? That would require a lot more thought.
Mary woke at two in the morning. She knew where the money was. Why she hadn’t realized it before … and because she knew where it was, answers to the other questions fell into place. She thought about Miss Emilie, her room, her dog, her need to go to the bank on the first of each month, even the route she took when she wandered downtown. None of those things had changed. When something did, that was when she seemed to fall apart. None of this would have happened if Miss Emilie had been a little bit more flexible. It took Mary some time to be convinced she was right, that she really did know who took the money, where it was, who murdered both Miss Emilie and Gloria and why. Thinking back on what people had said, or not said, what they had done, thinking who had motives, motive and needs, convinced her she was, if not at the truth, at least on the right track. But she didn’t have a shred of proof and getting it might prove difficult. The question now was what did she do about it?