Kilt Dead (14 page)

The swing her father had attached to the high branch
of a maple tree no longer hung there, but she found herself remembering how it used to sway gently in a morning breeze.

Dan came up behind her, putting his hands on her
shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t help thinking that if I hadn’t decided to bring
some of Aunt Margaret’s merchandise home with me
from the fairgrounds, I might have been back in time to
save her.”

“It’s not your fault Mrs. Norris is dead. Don’t ever
think that”

For just a moment, Liss let herself lean back into
Dan’s strength, his warmth. Their reflections in the window glass gazed back at them, a couple who looked as if
they belonged together.

Abruptly, she straightened. “Time’s a-wasting.”

He stepped away from her, releasing his grip on her
shoulders. She pretended she didn’t miss the contact.

“Give me a few minutes to call the construction site
and we’ll get started”

Liss opened her mouth to protest that he shouldn’t cut
work, then closed it again. Selfishly, she wanted him with
her. His presence would make talking to the neighbors
much easier. They’d open up to him more than they would
to her. He’d been right earlier. She’d gone away. She was
one of them by birth, but now a stranger.

While Dan went off to shave and call his father, Liss
changed into one of her more conservative outfits, a light
summer dress that swirled to mid-calf. The colors were a
mix of dark reds, browns, and greens-not exactly mourning, but as close as she could be comfortable wearing.

“All set,” Dan said as they met in the entry hall. “I’ve
got the morning free. After that, I’ll have to put in a few
hours. Dad’s shorthanded because he had to let one of the
carpenters go” He shepherded her out onto the porch.

“Okay. Let’s get started then … with you” She seated
herself on the glider. “You were here all day, right? What
did you see?”

“Not a heck of a lot.” He leaned against the railing,
arms folded across his chest. “I was in the workshop. That’s
the old carriage house. I converted it so I could do woodworking in my spare time. I stopped for lunch around noon.
Your cousin stopped by.”

“What did Ned want?” She set the glider in motion, but the soothing rhythm failed to relax her. She thought
again, with real longing, of the backyard swing.

“To annoy me?” Dan cracked a smile.

“When was he here?”

“I didn’t look at my watch. Mid-afternoon. He’d had
time to take your aunt to the airport and drive back.”

“Before or after 3:30?”

“Could have been either. I don’t know. Why 3:30?”

Liss watched as a maintenance worker drove his riding
lawnmower back and forth across the peaceful town square.
The drone of the engine was no more than a low background hum but the smell of newly mown grass hung in
the sultry morning air. Liss sighed. Instead of being able
to enjoy the sounds and smells of summer, she had to
keep her mind on murder.

“I read crime novels, okay? And I saw Mrs. Norris’s
body. She wasn’t stiff yet”

He lifted an eyebrow at her irritable tone but didn’t
comment on it. “And that means?”

“Apparently there’s no way to pin down the exact time
someone dies unless there’s a witness. They make guesses
based on … things that happen to the body.” She grimaced.
“To tell you the truth, I usually skip over those passages
in a book, but some of it must have stuck because I know
that if rigor mortis hadn’t yet set in, then she couldn’t
have died much more than four hours before I found her.
If I got home at 7:30 “

“It was closer to eight. Just before sunset”

“Okay, then move the time up to four. Did you notice
anything or anyone unusual between four and eight that
day?”

“No, and after about 6:30 I was keeping an eye out for
you. I wasn’t watching constantly, but if anyone had parked
and gone into the Emporium, I think I’d have noticed.”

“The killer might not have come by car. And you can’t see Aunt Margaret’s back door from here. It’s on the other
side of the building.”

“Then let’s hope one of the other neighbors saw something.” He pushed away from the railing and offered her
his hand.

Dan’s next-door neighbor to the east, on the corner of
Birch and Main, was John Farley, an accountant who specialized in preparing income taxes. He used two rooms on
the first floor of his house as an office but this was the wrong
season for him to be in it much. He agreed Mrs. Norris
should be given a memorial service and promised to attend, but he hadn’t been open on Saturday. He hadn’t even
been home.

“The wife and I went to her sister’s for the day. When
we got back, there were about a dozen police cars over at
the Emporium.” He shook his head. “Damned shame.
Amanda Norris was a good woman. Interrupted a robbery, you think?”

“The police aren’t saying,” Dan said.

Patsy’s Coffee House stood just across Main Street. Inside, a small seating area flanked the sales counter.
Chalkboards advertised coffee blends by the cup and by
the pound, ground to order, along with homemade donuts
and pastries. It was a far cry from Starbucks, but it had a
certain homey charm and it smelled wonderful. Dan requested “the usual,” which turned out to be coffee and
two Boston Creme donuts.

“How about you, Liss?” asked Patsy, the pale, thin fiftysomething owner, who did all the baking. “The sticky
buns are wicked good.”

Liss couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t heard that expression since she’d left Maine. “Wicked good, are they?
Then I guess I can’t resist.”

“Sit a spell, Patsy,” Dan invited when she brought their
order. For the moment, there were no other customers.

Unfortunately, the only unusual event she’d noticed on
Saturday had been Jeff Thibodeau’s headlong dash across
the town square.

The municipal building was next door to Patsy’s.
“Everything was closed on Saturday except the police station, and that’s at the back of the building. Jeff wouldn’t
have seen a thing.”

“Onward, then” She checked at a sign that read “Angie’s
Books” on the porch of the house at the corner of Main
and Ash. “That used to be Cecil Morgan’s place.”

“He moved away about five years back. The bookstore
will be closed, since this is Monday, but Angie will be
home. Angie Hogencamp. She’s got two young kids.”

“What does she do with them when the shop is open?”

“They `help’ her with the business.” Dan grinned. “As
long as she keeps everything that’s breakable on high
shelves, it works out fine”

Liss got only a glimpse of the shop on the lower level
of the house as Angie, who lived upstairs with her family,
led them through to the kitchen. The former living and
dining rooms had been turned into a new and used bookstore crammed with bookshelves and knick-knacks that
were also for sale.

“Coffee?” she asked. “I just put on a fresh pot”

Liss accepted to be courteous but passed on the coffee
cake. Dan devoured both. The man seemed to have a hollow leg. She didn’t know where else the food could be
going.

“Such a shame about Mrs. Norris.” Angie’s eyes were
the big brown variety that always looked a little sad, but
she seemed sincere in her sentiments. “She was an old
busybody, but she was nice about it,” she added with a
self-conscious little laugh. “I mean, you knew she was
prying into things that were none of her business, but she
was so sweet about it, so sympathetic when sympathy was called for, that before you knew it you were telling
her your deepest, darkest secrets”

“You didn’t worry about her repeating things you told
her?”

“Oh, no. She’d gossip, sure, but she never passed on
anything that really mattered” A frown creased her brow.
“She’d hint, once in a while. Like she knew something really
juicy but she wasn’t going to tell.” Her expression cleared.
“Well, she was old. I suppose she had to have something
to amuse herself with.”

Liss and Dan exchanged a look, but neither made any
comment.

After a moment, during which Liss could hear the quiet
murmur of children’s voices from another room, Angie
started talking on her own. “It was such a quiet day on
Saturday, or so everyone says. It seems impossible that
some stranger could have walked into the Emporium and
committed murder.”

“You didn’t notice anything unusual? No one hanging
around Aunt Margaret’s shop?”

“No. Not that I was looking. It wasn’t just a quiet day,
it was dead” She flushed as she realized what she’d said.
“Slow, I mean. My son took a nap that lasted most of the
afternoon and I spent the time restocking shelves. I don’t
suppose I glanced through the window more than once or
twice.”

“And you didn’t see anyone?”

“Well, there was old Lenny Peet, walking his dog. I
swear, that dog’s got to be as old as he is, but they’re out
there every day, taking their exercise.”

“Regular schedule, huh?” Liss asked, hoping she sounded
casual. “Like clockwork?”

“Well, no, he’s not quite that much a creature of habit,
but close. Early morning. Late afternoon. Speaking of
clocks.” She turned her attention on Dan. “You willing to make a few more and put them in here on consignment?
We did pretty well on them last leaf-peeper season”

“You make clocks?” Liss asked.

“Oh, he makes wonderful clocks. Haven’t you seen
them?” Angie started to get up from the kitchen table but
Dan stopped her.

“I’ll show her the ones in the shop”

“Well, all right. I’ve only got one of the little pictureframe clocks left anyway. I want another big Shaker-style,
and at least two more with picture frames, and … well,
surprise me” She turned to Liss again. “He makes the
most interesting shapes and sizes. I sold one that looked
like a boat, and a couple made from cherry burl. The customers love it when I can tell them he knew the tree personally.” She chuckled.

Dan just looked embarrassed. “I’ll get some to you before the leaves turn. Right now, though, we should get
going.”

“Yes, of course. Let me know when the services for
Mrs. Norris are. I’ll close up the shop if need be”

“She seems nice,” Liss said when they were out on the
sidewalk again.

“She is nice.”

“A real fan of yours, too”

A band of red crept up his neck and into his face.
“Angie got a little carried away.”

“Don’t be modest. And don’t think you’re going to get
out of showing me your workshop later, either.”

Ash Street went east to west along one side of the
town square, but just beyond the corner of Main and Ash
was another cross street, Elm. Next door to the bookstore,
on the corner of Main and Elm, was Locke Insurance.
Liss checked the line of sight. In spite of the gazebo and
the trees in the square, the front windows had a pretty
clear view of Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium, and on the side with the entrance to the stockroom, too.
“Should we stop in there?”

“They were closed Saturday. And the upstairs apartment is vacant right now.”

“Figures. What’s next, then … ?” Her voice trailed off
as she took a good look at the building on the corner opposite Angie’s Books. It was, and always had been, Preston’s Mortuary.

Douglas Preston was a refined gentleman of indeterminate age who offered them tea and sympathy and informed
them that Mrs. Norris had made her own pre-arrangements
for burial. After a moment’s thought, however, he decided
that a memorial service arranged by her neighbors would
not conflict with what she’d wanted for herself. “She said
no fuss, but how could she object to something that will
give closure to her friends?”

How could she object, indeed, Liss thought cynically.
She wasn’t around to stop it, and Preston had no qualms
about making a few extra bucks.

He wasn’t any help otherwise, however. He’d been
busy “out back” all afternoon on Saturday. Liss decided
not to inquire into exactly what had occupied his time.

Alden’s Small Appliance Repair came next. Like the
other businesses, it occupied part of the ground floor of
what had once been a one-family house. Moosetookalook
had been extraordinarily fortunate. No “great fire” had
destroyed the many homes built during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries by bankers and ministers, merchants, and professional men. Nowadays, for
the most part, the owner of each store lived above the
premises. Only in one or two cases were the upstairs
apartments rented out to strangers.

Warren Alden was in his seventies, lived alone, and
opened his shop when he felt like it. Saturday afternoon,
like Angie’s toddler, he’d taken a long nap in his living quarters. If anybody had come by wanting his services,
they hadn’t bothered to ring the bell.

“It’s a good loud one,” he informed them. “I’d have
heard it if it rung”

“I’m beginning to get discouraged,” Liss said. “For a
small town, these folks sure do mind their own business.”

Dan chuckled. “Just wait. The fact that you and I are
making the rounds together will have all of Moosetookalook
buzzing by nightfall.”

11
“What an appalling thought.

“Hey! I think I’m insulted.”

She ignored him and pushed open the door to the next
building on the west side of the square. The Clip and Curl
occupied the back of the house, with no view of the
square or of Aunt Margaret’s shop. The proprietor, Betsy
Twining, lived in the rooms above, but she’d have been
busy doing hair on Saturday afternoon. Liss and Dan
popped in only to tell her about the memorial service.
The front half of the building, completely separate from
the Clip and Curl, was the Moosetookalook Post Office.

Liss didn’t know the postmaster, a husky brunette about
her own age, but the woman recognized her on sight.
“You’re Margaret’s niece!” she exclaimed in a loud, nasal
voice. “Nice to meet you. How’d Margaret take the news
about Amanda? She coming back early?”