See Something, page 14
“I do.”
“John Sawtelle must have figured it out,” I said. “No wonder you’re worried about Emily.” I thought again of the red Mazda. Whoever was driving it had seen Emily come into our house and had seen her leave. Whoever was driving it knows where I live and maybe where I work. I tried to shake the thought away.
“Do you mind if I copy those names down?” Pete asked, pulling his ever-present notebook and pencil from an inside pocket.
“Of course we don’t mind,” Aunt Ibby said. “We just hope it will be helpful to Emily.”
Louisa muffled a ladylike yawn. I took the hint. “Pete, these women have put in a full evening’s work. They must be tired.”
He stood. “You’re right. Good night, Betsy, Louisa, Ms. Russell. Thanks for your help. We’ll keep in touch.”
“Good night, Pete,” my aunt said, “and I do wish you’d call me Ibby.”
“Good night, Ibby,” he said obediently. I gave each Angel a hug, and Pete and I left by the kitchen door. O’Ryan stayed behind. I gave my wrinkled blouses a glance as we passed the laundry room. “I need to do a little ironing tomorrow,” I said. Pete didn’t comment.
“I’m surprised,” he said as I unlocked the door.
“About what? That my door is locked?”
“No. I’m surprised by what the Angels have done with the small amount of information they had to work with.” He led the way down the short hall from my living room to the kitchen, taking off his jacket as he walked. “They even came up with the same name that’s on this card. Alfred Pridholm.” He held the card, as I had, between thumb and forefinger, staring at it. “Surprising.”
“They are getting pretty good at the detective business, aren’t they?” I was proud of my aunt and her friends.
“The detective business? Is that what the chatter about you becoming a detective is about? He draped the jacket over the back of a Lucite chair. “You know something? You could do it.”
“They want to form a real detective agency,” I said. “But at least one Angel has to be licensed by the state. They’ve apparently voted me ‘most likely to succeed.’ ”
“You can do it, you know, if you want to. You’re about a semester away from your BA in Criminal Justice. That’ll give you the foundation you’ll need to move forward.” Big smile. “Of course, you’d have to put in some time on the police force first.”
“Not happening,” I said. He was right about the online degree though. I’d been working toward that for a couple of years. I’d begun studying when Pete and I had first started dating seriously. Time for a subject change. “Hey. It’s time for the late news. I want to see how Scott does with his murder boat story.” I reached for the remote on the counter and turned on Buck Covington’s late news show. Whenever there’s an investigative piece, Buck usually winds up the newscast with it. “Shall I put on some decaf?” I asked. “Scott won’t be on until the end.”
“Sure. Got any of those Girl Scout cookies left?”
“Samoas and Thin Mints.”
“You pick.”
I started Mr. Coffee and fished a sleeve of Thin Mints from the Red Riding Hood cookie jar while Pete went into the bedroom and stashed his gun in one of the secret drawers in my bureau. O’Ryan joined us via the kitchen cat door as we sipped and snacked and watched as Scott described Jim’s excellent coverage of the charred boat. He’d included some file footage of Little Misery Island to give some perspective on where it had been found, a picture of the beach at Collins Cove and the by-now-familiar shots of Dakota’s drawings, along with the well-known reminder to “See something, say something.”
“What do you think?” Pete asked. “Did he do a good job?”
“Yes. He did fine.”
“You missing having that job? That kind of spotlight on your reporting?” He reached for another cookie.
“I can honestly say I don’t,” I told him. “I was ready to move on.”
“Ready for the detective gig yet?”
“I meant I was ready for cowboys and clowns and trick dogs. That’s plenty for me.”
CHAPTER 24
We went out for breakfast again since I still hadn’t made time for food shopping. This time it was a fast stop at Dunkin’. I resisted the cinnamon doughnuts I really wanted in favor of a bacon, egg, and cheese croissant. Pete ordered the same. I’d save the doughnuts for some special occasion. We went dutch on the tab and I promised myself that I’d stop at Market Basket on the way home from work.
Pete dropped me off in front of our garage, with a kiss and a promise to call me later to let me know what his schedule for the day was going to be. First on his list was a visit with Emily to talk about the names the Angels had found, the card in the purse, and the red Mazda. I was happy in the knowledge that my schedule was just a nice, normal, nine-to-five workday.
I checked in with Rhonda a few minutes before nine, and out of long-standing habit, looked at the whiteboard where she posts daily assignments for reporters and videographers. Howie and Francine were booked for a feature on the ongoing restoration of the replica tall ship Friendship of Salem overseen by the National Park Service. Scott and Jim were slated for a boat tour from eight to noon. I pointed to the board. “A boat tour? Why?”
“Pretty cool assignment, huh? A nice day for it. They got picked up next door at Pickering Wharf at eight o’clock. First they go out to Little Misery Island, then to Collins Cove, and finally a cruise-by at Conant Park.” Rhonda counted each stop on her fingers. “It’s called the Murder Mystery Tour. Typical Salem entrepreneurship at work. They’re selling tickets like crazy.”
“How come Scott got the plum assignment instead of young Howie?”
She shrugged. “Doan liked what he did on the murder boat piece last night.”
“I never got a boat tour assignment,” I grumbled, and headed through the metal door toward my new glass-walled office overlooking the newsroom where all the action seemed to be.
It didn’t take long for the scene of the action to change. “Hey!” somebody shouted. “There’s a horse walking around in the downstairs studio.” I reversed direction and ran for the window overlooking the parking lot. I recognized Rob Oberlin’s Ford F150 King Ranch Supercrew. The horse trailer behind it bore the logo of the Double R Riding Stable. Ranger Rob had arrived for work astride Prince Valiant.
I clattered my way down the stairs and pushed open the door to the long, darkened room. Even in the dim light, it was easy to spot the big, beautiful, pale-cream-colored Palomino horse with his bright flaxen mane and tail. Prince Valiant, with Rob tall in the saddle, picked his way carefully past the various permanent sets in the room, toward the lighted soundstage where Katie the Clown and Paco the wonder dog waited. I liked what I saw.
I picked my way extra carefully through the studio too, since I was following behind a very large, healthy horse. Katie waved excitedly when she saw me. “Lee! Paco has learned a new trick. Watch this.” She clapped her hands once and spoke softly. “Paco. Open the chute.”
The dog obediently trotted to the blue gate, stood on his hind legs, lifted the latch with his teeth, then quickly moved aside. Katie clapped again. “Paco. Close the chute.”
Paco pushed the gate closed, and with one paw holding it firmly, replaced the latch. He ran to Katie, who slipped a treat from her voluminous pocket and fed it to him.
“That’s amazing,” I said. “If I’d known Prince Valiant was going be here, I would have brought a treat for him too.”
“That’s okay,” Rob said. “I brought him in today to see how he reacts to the bull chute. He might not like it.” He patted the horse’s mane. “He might not even fit in there with me on top.”
“We should have measured it first,” I said. “My bad. Should have thought of that before I gave Chester the plans.”
“Might as well find out now,” Rob said. He made a click-click sound and turned the horse toward backstage. “Katie, want to open that bull chute gate as wide as it gets in case Prince wants out in a hurry?”
“Got it,” she said, swinging the gate open and quickly stepping away from the entrance. “Out of the way, everybody.” She waved toward where I stood with Marty and Chester. We three retreated to the bleachers, waiting to see how horse and rider might fare—and if the admittedly Mickey Mouse construction of the bull chute would stand up to the test. Katie and Paco joined us.
Some snorting and whinnying went on backstage, but within a minute Prince Valiant, with his best parade high-step, emerged from the blue tunnel with a grinning Rob. “He’s not crazy about it”—Rob gave a fancy over-his-head twirl of his lariat—“and I won’t ask him to do it every day. Will once in a while be all right, Lee?”
“Of course. Whatever you say. The kids will be excited to see him no matter how he gets onstage.”
“It may be better if he does it when it’s a special occasion,” Marty said, and Katie agreed.
“Like cinnamon doughnuts for breakfast,” I said, and they seemed to understand.
Marty and Chester left us to do some blocking, marking x’s on the stage floor while Paco chose to explore the corners of the set. Katie stayed with me.
“Lee,” she said,” there’s something I want to tell you, only I don’t want you to think I’m being nosy or spying on you or anything.” Her voice trailed off.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “I know you’re not nosy.”
“I get here pretty early in the morning, you know. Clown makeup takes a while, and I never want to rush it.” She patted the orange wig and swung her big shoes back and forth.
Where was this going? Did she want to be paid overtime? I waited for her to continue.
“There are usually not many cars in the parking lot when I get here,” she said, “so I know most of them. Rhonda gets here early and sometimes Francine’s truck is already here. Chester’s truck too. So if there’s a car I don’t recognize, I usually notice it. Especially if it’s a pretty one.” She paused, looking down at her feet. “This probably doesn’t mean anything. I hope you don’t think I’m being silly.”
“No. Of course not. Go ahead.”
“So you remember the day I first brought Paco to work with me?”
That made me smile. “I’ll never forget it. You’d found our sidekick.”
“Right.” She smiled too. “Anyway, that morning I noticed a really nice car parked out there next to the seawall. One I’d like to have myself. There was a man in the driver’s seat. I figured he must be one of the salesmen. I haven’t met all of them yet.”
“Go on.”
“After you’d met Paco I took him outside to do his duty, you know? And that cool red car was still there.”
A red car? I waited for her to continue.
“There was a man over next to your car. I think it might have been the guy I saw in the red car. He saw me looking at him and he turned real fast and faced the water, like he was admiring the view.”
“It is a nice view, but you were suspicious of the man anyway.” I stated it as a fact. I didn’t even ask her if the red car was a Mazda.
“Kind of. But the reason I’m telling you this is because I left work right after you did yesterday. And, Lee, when you drove off, I saw that same red car pull out of the Pickering Wharf overflow lot next door. He followed you. I know he did.”
“I think you’re right, Katie,” I said.
“That’s not all. When the man was next to your car the first time I saw him, I think he might have put something under the back part. He was kind of bent over, you know, and he was touching the back fender nearest the wall.”
“Putting something under my car? Damn! My car is bugged.”
“That’s what Rob said too, when I told him about it. He said I should tell you.”
“Thank you, Katie,” I said. “I’m grateful that you did. You said the man saw you looking at him. Do you think he would recognize you? Now I’m worried about you.”
“I was wearing one of my clown suits when I walked Paco. When I come in to work or leave, I look like the dowdy old lady I really am,” she said. “Hardly anyone recognizes Agnes as Katie.”
That was true, even though she’s definitely not a dowdy old lady. I worried about her anyway. I worried about me too. I excused myself from the rodeo set, went back to my office, called Pete, and told him exactly what Katie had told me.
CHAPTER 25
“Listen, my love,” Pete said. “Drive straight home after work and put your car in the garage. Ask Ibby to put hers in the driveway so I’ll have room to see what’s going on with the Vette. As soon as I get out of here I’ll call you so you can unlock the garage side door for me. Okay? Don’t worry. We’ll see what’s going on.”
Our garage is an old-fashioned, freestanding building behind the house, with its sort-of-new Genie automatic door facing onto Oliver Street. There’s a regular door on the side of the building opening onto the flagstone path that leads to the garden and the back door.
“I’ll run down and unlock it as soon as you call,” I promised. The advice about not worrying didn’t work for me, but otherwise I was confident that Pete would figure out what was going on. Beyond being worried, the thought of some creep touching my beautiful Vette infuriated me. All right, call me obsessive about my car. Picturing some strange man reaching under one of those Bimini-blue fenders and planting a foreign object there, I almost felt personally violated. Damned creep!
The rest of that day passed in a blur. Oh, I did everything I was supposed to do. Checked the items off one by one. Called Captain Billy about doing a guest spot on Ranger Rob’s Rodeo about the newest toys. Had Marty shoot a few teaser spots about the upcoming show. Interviewed a ghost writer for Wanda’s cookbook. Had to drive over to PetSmart to pick up a doggie bed for Paco—cringing all the way thinking about the foreign object tracking me. Caught up on some paperwork and managed to avoid Scott Palmer all day long. I was glad when five o’clock arrived. I made a fast trip to Market Basket and checked out via the ten-item line. I compulsively looked at the rearview mirror every minute or so on the ride home, half expecting to see the Mazda, and hated myself for doing it. It was a great relief to pull into my own garage. Aunt Ibby’s Buick wasn’t there though, so I texted her, asking her to park in the driveway, saying I’d explain tonight. I knew that message would arouse her curiosity. No doubt now she’d be home sooner rather than later.
O’Ryan met me on the back steps with purrs and ankle rubs, which always makes even the worst of days a little better. I put down the grocery bag, picked him up and buried my face in his soft fur. “I love you, big cat,” I told him.
I imagined that his answering “Mmmrrrrow” meant “I love you too.” I put him down and he followed me up the twisty stairs. He stayed close while I put the groceries away, hung up my jacket, and put my shoes in the closet. I changed into soft faded jeans, big loose T-shirt, and sneakers, put my cell phone on the kitchen table so I’d be able to grab it the minute Pete called. I could hardly wait for him get there and to take that disgusting thing off of my beautiful car.
I jumped when the phone buzzed. Not Pete though. It was Aunt Ibby. “What’s going on, Maralee? I’m on my way home. Library board meeting today. I thought it would never end. Why am I parking in the driveway? Not that I mind, but why?”
I explained as briefly as I could, trying not to frighten her in the process. “Pete will be here in a little while. He asked that you park outside so he’ll have room to work on whatever that man put under my car. I don’t think it should take very long.”
“Maralee, I don’t like this one bit. Why would some strange man want to track your comings and goings?” I’d scared her, no doubt. “Do you suppose this has something to do with Emily?”
“Wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” I told her. “Pete’s calling. I’ll see you when you get here. Bye.”
I was relieved to hear Pete’s voice. “I’m almost there. Want to unlock the garage door now?”
“I’ll be right down. See you in a minute. Come on, O’Ryan.” I hurried back through the living room and down the stairs. “Pete’s here.” Since the cat usually knows who’s coming to which door before anyone else does, he looked confused, but took my word for it and was out the back door and waiting beside the garage when Pete pulled the Crown Vic into the driveway, carefully leaving plenty of room for the big Buick. Perfect timing. I unlocked the side door and clicked on the overhead light.
Pete joined me inside the garage. He wore jeans and a PAL T-shirt and carried a large red toolbox. “You look ready for work,” I said, accepting a quick kiss. “I’ll be so glad when you get the damned thing off. Will you keep it for evidence?”
“Not exactly,” he said.
“Not exactly?” I echoed. A knock at the door behind me interrupted my next question. Aunt Ibby had arrived. “Come on in,” I said. “Pete just got here too.”
“Am I in time to see you take the gadget off, Pete?” She moved toward the Vette. “Do you know where it is?”
“I have a good idea where it will be,” he said. “I need to get a couple more things from my trunk.” We watched from the doorway as he retrieved one of those creepers mechanics use to get under a car, and a long-handled mirror, and carried them back to the garage. He opened the toolbox and selected a flashlight. “Let’s take a look.”
We could have heard the proverbial pin drop as my aunt, O’Ryan, and I stood in a silent row as Pete walked slowly around the Vette, the long-handled mirror in one hand and the flashlight in the other. He passed the mirror along the underside of the car, pausing every so often to lie on the floor and focus the flashlight up under there. He reached the rear left fender, the one Katie had said the man had touched.
“Okay,” he said. “There’s one here.” He pulled on gloves and lay on the creeper, the flashlight in one hand. Within less than a minute he slid back into view with a small black box in his hand. “Here’s the little devil. Want to see it before I put it back?”
“Put it back?” My aunt and I spoke together.
“Yes. And I’m going to install another one under the dash.” He held the oblong box toward us. “Not a cheap magnetic one like this though.”
