“Penelope called.” Zoe was at the breakfast table in Dora’s house, where she’d spent the night. “She heard about the break-in. Want to meet her at Myrtle’s for dinner?” Zoe looked to both of them, her bright face hopeful.
Jenny asked, “What time? Remember, Abigail’s coming at eight.” Dora broke in to say good-bye. She was off to find very special teas.
Tony, invited to breakfast to talk about the break-in, glanced up from the iPad he was using as though his mind was elsewhere.
“She said six thirty. Maybe she’s got something new.” Zoe, book in her hands, sat back on her stack of phonebooks, legs straight out in front of her. She leafed through the book of fairy tale characters she wanted to trace and paint on the pole of the children’s house.
“Fine with me,” Tony said.
“Me too,” Jenny, going over the copies of Aaron’s letters, answered absentmindedly.
“Want to hear what the locksmith has to say about Fida’s key?” Tony looked up from his screen, stopping as if to tease.
He turned the iPad to the others and pointed to an antique humpback chest on the screen.
“That’s it? The key fits that chest?” Zoe asked.
Tony shrugged. “Or one like it. My friend says this particular key is from the late nineteenth or early twentieth century.”
Tony used the eraser of a pencil to point out places on the image of the key.
“See the shaft? Three decorative circlets on a bow end. No collar. My friend says it’s a simple key. From the size, probably opens a wooden box or small chest—like the one pictured.”
“Great,” Zoe groused. “How many of those you see around these days?”
“This could be what the killer’s after. First thing to look for,” Tony said. “Or he could have the chest and needs the key to open it. Nah—in that case, he’d just smash it open. So maybe he doesn’t have the chest.” He snapped the iPad case closed. “Finding this box is crucial. And finding it quick, before the killer does.”
“So,” Zoe thought out loud. “It’s definitely got something to do with the Canes. It’s the Cane men who are dead, after all.”
Tony nodded at her. “And it’s the Cane men who each got a letter.”
“And look what they say . . .” Jenny pointed to the letter she was holding, then read aloud. “‘You boys can’t cheat us anymore. I hear you’ve got what I’m after but you’re hiding it. All three of you in on cheating us, just like him. A pack of cheaters. Time’s up on that. You cheated her way too long and now you’re cheating me.’” Zoe was lost in her head for a while.
“Were the boys in on something with their sister?” Zoe asked but didn’t appear to be listening to herself. “Abigail got all the money. I don’t get it.”
Jenny was thinking hard. “It sounds as if whoever wrote the letters knows the Canes pretty well. Calls Adam and Aaron ‘the boys.’”
“Everybody in town calls them that,” Tony said.
“Not really. Only people who have lived here a long time.” Zoe frowned.
“Or who know the family pretty well,” Jenny added. “A family friend. An old teacher.”
“A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker,” Zoe said.
“So,” Jenny put in, “somebody who’s been around a while. Other than Abigail, I can’t think of anybody in that circle, except for some very elderly folks. How about Carmen Volker, her secretary?”
“She’s not that old. And she’s not from here.”
“Anyway, you think she’d want to jeopardize her job?” Tony asked. “Doesn’t look like the type to give up her little bit of safety.”
“I wonder why Adam or Aaron didn’t go to the police when they got their letter,” Zoe said.
“Maybe they did,” Jenny said, feeling as if they were all trapped in a circle, running hard to stay in place. “Maybe Ed couldn’t find anything wrong. Or he didn’t trust them. He said Adam was always coming in to make a complaint about a neighbor.”
“Where are we then?” Zoe, shoulders sagging, looked over at Tony and Jenny. “Anywhere?”
“Here’s where I think we are,” Tony said. “Aaron and Adam must have known who wrote these letters. Maybe there were other, earlier letters. The writer wants something. It doesn’t seem to be money, though.” Tony hesitated, then looked hard at Jenny. “No dollar figures in here. Was there ever a question about their father’s death?”
Jenny shrugged. “I remember a big funeral. Two statues of him going up: one in Cane Park and the other at the cemetery. Lots of dignitaries. Police escort, that kind of thing. I’ll have to ask my mom if there was gossip at the time.”
“Yeah, do that,” Tony said. “Still, from what I found out, the only one to profit after their father died was Abigail. Adam and Aaron got nothing.”
“You know Abigail didn’t write these letters,” Jenny said. “Nothing points to her.”
“Still,” Zoe said, “if Abigail did write these letters, maybe her brothers were trying to blackmail her with something and she wanted it back. I’m still thinking there’s a later will.”
“Then took Fida with her?” Jenny snorted. “Rushed out to kill Aaron? You see Abigail doing something like that?”
“Why would anyone take Fida?” Zoe was almost moaning. “Except to make me look guilty.”
“Because she barks?” Jenny said.
Tony nodded. “Could be. Grab her first. Put her in your car. Then you’re stuck with her, so why not take her with you? Maybe Fida was what got him into Aaron’s house. Who knows?”
“Ed doesn’t really like thinking you’re the one who did it,” Jenny said. “He’s not a bad guy.”
“He’s grasping at anything just to get this behind him,” Tony said. “Kind of feel sorry for him.”
“My head hurts,” Zoe said and slid off her chair. “I’ll tell Penelope six thirty at Myrtle’s will be fine. I want her to know about the key and the box. She’ll go right after it. Funny how some people start looking better to you all the time.”