A Dark and Stormy Knit (Black Sheep Knitting Mystery) (28 page)

He took his hat off and shook his head. “No, not today. I came to talk to Phoebe. Is she still here?”

“Yes . . . she just went back to the storeroom a minute.” Maggie had turned around to call Phoebe when she appeared, holding a mug of tea.

“Phoebe, Detective Mossbacher’s here. He wants to speak with you.”

Maggie felt apprehensive, and guessed Phoebe did, too, even though today they knew for certain that Phoebe was not going to be dragged back to the station. The investigators were far too busy with Alex Healey, their latest and greatest prime suspect.

“Hey, Detective.” Phoebe sounded nervous as she approached and stood near them. “What’s up?”

“Not too much. But a report crossed my desk this afternoon. You filed a complaint about Quentin Gibbs this morning?”

“That’s right. I did.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t see something like that, but since Gibbs was questioned in this investigation, the officer who took your report sent me a copy. Good police work,” he noted.

“Yeah, he seemed real efficient.” Phoebe took a sip of tea.

“Frankly, I was distressed to read about that incident, Phoebe. Of course, Gibbs should be detained and get counseling or treatment somewhere. But you shouldn’t have been hanging around that house. It’s still a crime scene,” he
reminded her. “Didn’t you see all that yellow tape? It’s a violation to cross a police line.”

“There wasn’t any tape across the backyard. I just went back there a minute to feed Charlotte’s cats,” she argued.

Detective Mossbacher took in a long, slow breath. Maggie could see he wasn’t really mad at her. Just worried.

“I know, I read what you said. But it wasn’t safe or smart. Especially after dark. Promise me you won’t go back there.”

Maggie could see Phoebe was having a hard time making that promise. Because she was thinking about the cats.

“What if I go during the day and put food near the garage? Is that part a crime scene? What if someone comes with me?” she added.

He sighed again. “Okay, near the garage and just during the day . . . and with a friend to help you. Hopefully, you won’t have to babysit forever.”

“Oh? Does that mean you found out something about Charlotte?” she asked eagerly.

He looked surprised at the question and then chagrined as he realized he’d slipped. “Can’t say. Sorry. But we’re working on it. Not just us, the FBI, too. They’ve got some high-tech gadgets now. Face detection, the works. It’s amazing,” he added.

“Amazing enough to find her?” Maggie asked tentatively.

“If they can’t do it, nobody can.” She almost thought he winked at her, but decided he was just squinting his eyes up a bit.

“I don’t think she’ll come back until she knows it’s safe,” Phoebe said.

“That’s probably true,” he agreed.

“I remembered something, Detective,” she added. “I’m not sure if it’s important or not. It might have nothing to do with anything . . .”

“You let us decide that. What did you remember?” He seemed suddenly alert, his focus fixed on her.

“If you read that report, you know why Quentin grabbed me. He has this idea that someone from the law firm where Charlotte worked wanted to harm her. Not Professor Healey.”

“Yes, I read that. He told us that in his interview,” he added. Now he didn’t seem as interested anymore, Maggie noticed. “What about it?”

“Well, I was noodling around on their website . . . Dylan, Garland and Doyle. I saw a new article about a big merger they handled when Charlotte was still working there. She was called in as a proofreader. But she ended up getting fired.” Phoebe paused and walked over to the counter. She had printed out the article and saved it there. She handed it to the detective. “I thought it could connect to all that money she had in her locker at school,” she added.

Now he squinted . . . no, more of a real scowl at both of them. “How did you hear about that?”

“Oh . . . people in town gossip. You’d be surprised what we hear in here,” Maggie said quickly, covering their tracks. “Go on with your story, Phoebe.”

Phoebe explained the rest of her theory—about the sensitive information Charlotte had seen and how it could have been used by someone willing to dare to do some inside trading. Though she had no idea who, or how. If it was Charlotte or somebody out to get her now.

“It’s too bizarre, right? Maybe I caught something weird from Quentin. While he was tackling me,” she added, crinkling her nose.

Mossbacher didn’t show any reaction. He folded the article and tucked it in his coat pocket. “We’ll look into it. We did follow up on Gibbs’s lead. But he didn’t have any specific information. Just some wild talk. This is a little different,” he added.

Interesting, Maggie thought. And true.

He soon bid them good night, and Maggie locked the door, happy to call it a day.

“It seems like he took you seriously, Phoebe,” she said, walking back to the counter. “He didn’t dismiss it out of hand. Just because they have Healey now.”

“No, he didn’t. So I did my civic duty twice today.”

“Yes, you did. And if you hadn’t stepped up and reported Gibbs this morning, Mossbacher would have never come here, and you wouldn’t have been able to give him your information.”

“Yeah . . . that’s true, never thought of it.” Phoebe paused and picked at her fingernail polish, sparkly blue. “It sounds like they know where Charlotte is. Or almost do.”

“I thought so, too. I think that’s encouraging. It will be a week tomorrow since the art show and since she disappeared. Can you believe it? It seems like so much longer,” Maggie realized.

“Tell me about it. It feels more like a month than a week to me. But things are moving faster now. I wonder if Mossbacher will tell me if he digs up any dirt about that law firm.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. They don’t work that way. But we’ll know one way or the other if it leads somewhere,” Maggie
replied. “This stuff is like yeast. It takes a while to find out if it’s live, and will make the dough rise. Speaking of dough, I’m going to try this recipe I found for flatbread tonight. I’ve invited Lucy and Matt. Would you like to help me make it? And eat it?”

Phoebe was smiling, but her dark eyes had narrowed. “You’re just trying to get me to come over again, Maggie. You’re so transparent.”

“I know, but . . . it will be fun, and one more night won’t hurt. Mossbacher made me worry about Quentin again. He wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t think the kid is dangerous.” She didn’t mean to scare Phoebe, but she couldn’t help but be honest.

Phoebe smiled and shrugged. “All right. It’s Saturday night—who wants to hang out alone? Josh has a gig here in town. I don’t want to keep thinking about it. I might be tempted to go down there.”

“And we don’t want you to do that,” Maggie said quickly. “Less temptation at my house.”

“Definitely. Can I bring my new boyfriend? I feel like I’ve been ignoring him lately.”

Maggie knew she meant the cat. She thought about it a moment. But only a moment. “Sure, we’ll make him his own little bread, fish-shaped, with anchovies.”

That made Phoebe laugh finally. A very pleasant sound.

M
aggie and Phoebe decided to buy the dough ready-made for their flatbread project. They were getting a late start and needed speedy results. To Maggie’s surprise, the information Phoebe had given Mossbacher yielded fast results, too.

At a little past noon on Monday, Dana walked into the shop. She found Maggie and Phoebe at the worktable, eating lunch. She put down her lunch and knitting bag, and joined them.

“Jack just called. I had to stop by. The police finally figured out the connection between the money Charlotte hid in her locker and Healey. They needed the FBI to help them . . . forensic accountants.”

“Forensic accountants? I had no idea there was such a thing.” Maggie paused while eating her soup.

“Oh, yes, very important work. They analyze and track financial records, offshore accounts, phony investment schemes, and tax shelters. Secret Swiss bank accounts,” she added, raising her eyebrows.

“Wow . . . does Healey have one of those?” Phoebe asked.

“He has a few secret accounts. The first time the police looked at his financial records they didn’t see anything unusual. But, acting on a tip,” she said, glancing at Phoebe, “the team started digging. Especially around the time of a certain merger of two software companies. They came up with some offshore accounts that have a few hundred thousand altogether and some investment accounts he’d opened and used only once. Using the names and social security numbers of his deceased parents, no less. Clever, right?” she added.

“Very clever. Downright . . . shrewd,” Phoebe said.

“Well, he is a PhD. Very intelligent, no question. He applied his brainpower to making some money instead of artwork, I guess.”

“Profits from some inside trading on the stock market, right?” Maggie hated to steal Dana’s thunder, but she couldn’t help it.

Dana glanced at Phoebe again. “The lead you gave Mossbacher really panned out. Jack heard he was grateful.”

“I can’t really take the credit. It was Quentin’s idea. But he’s too crazy to follow through on anything.”

“But you weren’t and you did the legwork, Phoebe,” Dana noted. “The police confronted Healey with all this, and he confessed—to the insider trading, but not the murder. He still claims he’s totally innocent and would never have hurt Beth . . . or Charlotte.’ ”

Phoebe looked down at her lunch. Maggie could tell she believed Healey, despite this latest bombshell.

“What did he say about the stock market scam? How did he pull that off exactly?” Maggie asked.

“Well, he said Charlotte came to his studio one night, very upset. She’d just been fired and told him the whole story. She’d only wanted him to comfort her. But he quickly realized the information she’d passed on, while she was crying her eyes out, was valuable. The next day, he started setting up accounts and buying stock using money from retirement accounts. When the merger went through, he hit the jackpot. His plan was to hide the money and run away with Charlotte. But he says she was appalled, and that was why she broke up with him.”

“But she took fifty grand anyway?” Maggie asked.

Dana shook her head. “No . . . he claims she didn’t want to touch the money. But he put some in her locker, hoping it would change her mind. To her credit, Charlotte only took out one thousand dollars, enough to leave town. She must have gone into the building Sunday night sometime. Or maybe she already had it because she knew she wanted to get away.”

“So he’s the reason Charlotte ran away. She’s afraid of getting into trouble for what
he
did.” Phoebe was incensed. “No wonder she won’t come back. Even less chance now, once this part hits the news.”

“Maybe . . . but maybe she’ll see that it’s all out in the open and she can’t really hide anymore,” Dana said reasonably. “It could be a relief.”

Phoebe didn’t answer. Maggie felt sorry for her. Finally Phoebe said, “Well, at least now we understand something we didn’t know before. I was trying to help him, but I guess this makes the case against Healey even stronger. If Charlotte was angry at what he’d done and didn’t want to run off with him, he had even more reason to want to silence her.”

Dana nodded, spooning up the last of her soup. “That’s
exactly what the police think now, too. But he still claims he’s totally innocent and someone is trying to frame him. He says he’s a stock market swindler but not a murderer.”

“While he has an even stronger motive to kill Charlotte, the question remains why he didn’t realize the woman in the bedroom was Beth . . . and not his intended victim,” Maggie reminded them. “He and Charlotte were lovers. He should have recognized Beth was the wrong woman.”

“It’s a good one,” Dana conceded. “But the prosecution will try to get around it. They have a lot of other things to talk about.”

Phoebe was frowning. She still looked angry and upset at this turn of news. “I still don’t get that part, either. He seems totally guilty now. I feel like such a jerk for looking up to him. He was like my favorite teacher. It’s like . . . who are you? And what have you done with Professor Healey?”

“I’m sure a lot of people were fooled by Professor Healey—you weren’t the only one,” Maggie pointed out. She turned to Dana. “With all this evidence stacked against him, don’t you think he’ll confess?”

Dana shrugged. She bunched up the trash bag and put it aside. “So far, he keeps saying he’s innocent and claims Sonya Finch is framing him.”

“Finch? That’s interesting. She has plenty of reason to want to see him punished. But why would she incriminate the Knit Kats? And she also wouldn’t have mistaken Beth for Charlotte.”

“Healey had even less reason to do that,” Phoebe pointed out.

“Yes, we’ve gone there before,” Maggie reminded them. “That part still doesn’t make sense.”

“We have. And I have to run. I have a patient coming in soon, sorry.” Dana glanced at her watch. “I guess we have to credit this one to the police. It seems they’ve got their man. At least we know that Charlotte wasn’t involved in the stock market scheme. And wouldn’t even take any money. That takes character,” Dana reminded Phoebe. “When she comes back, she’ll have some explaining to do. But she was naive and trusting, and Healey took advantage of her. She can’t be punished that severely.”