After Caroline (12 page)

“Your Aunt Sarah sounds a lot like my Aunt Alice,” Mavis said, industriously wiping the immaculate counter in front of Joanna’s cherry Coke. “With a saying or proverb for everything. It does tend to make life simpler, though, doesn’t it? I mean, having an answer for most every question.”

“It does give you rules to live by,” Joanna agreed.

“That’s what I keep telling my boyfriend, Danny. He says the commandments are enough to worry about, but what I say is, the people who came before us had a few things figured out, and why shouldn’t we listen to them? My Aunt Alice lived through the depression and wars and—well, I think she’d earned the right to be listened to.”

“Oh, I agree. Aunt Sarah never gave me bad advice, never.”

“Neither did Aunt Alice.” Mavis smiled at Joanna with an obvious feeling of sisterhood. “Wouldn’t they both be pleased to hear us quoting them?”

Joanna nodded. “Definitely. Aunt Sarah always said that fame was the number of people who remembered you after you were gone.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Mavis shook her head, then blurted out, “Oh, gosh, Joanna, you sure look like her!”

“Caroline? So I hear.”

“You don’t sound like her, not a bit, and you’re so relaxed and friendly where she was sort of shy, I guess—”

“Shy? I read somewhere that she spoke in public quite a lot.”

“Oh, she did—at least, pretty often. Committees and the PTA, that sort of thing. But when it was one-on-one like this, just casual-like, she always seemed shy, at least to me. Quiet, hardly talked at all. Didn’t smile much. She was beautiful—I mean, hey, look in the mirror!—but kind
of … subdued. She just didn’t sparkle, know what I mean?”

“I think so,” Joanna said slowly.

“Except when Regan was with her, of course. She did love that little girl, and it really showed.”

“I keep hearing that.”
Is that why Caroline wanted me here? Because of some danger to Regan? But what could it be?
“I met Regan, and she seemed … sort of frozen. Very alone. I had to remind myself that she still had her father.”

Mavis’s cheerful smile faded and she looked away from Joanna, not quite guarded but definitely uncomfortable. “Oh, yeah, she has him. But from what I’ve seen and heard, the poor kid might as well be a complete orphan. I’ve never seen a man with less interest in his own kid.”

Another one who didn’t like Scott
. “You mean, just now? Or—”

“No, he’s been that way most of Regan’s life. I guess some men should never be fathers. Everybody figures Caroline wanted kids and he just went along with the idea, the way he went along with all her ideas.”

“Was Caroline so … persuasive?” Joanna asked slowly.

“With men she was.” Mavis’s gaze returned to Joanna, and she made a little sound that might have denoted unwilling admiration. “She had that way about her, you know? Sort of helpless on the outside, and always needing a man to do one thing or another for her. Why, even the sheriff was more or less at her beck and call.”

“They were close?” It took an effort, but Joanna kept her voice only mildly interested.

Mavis looked thoughtful. “Well, I heard once that they were
very
close, if you know what I mean. But I never saw anything to prove that, and honestly, it might have been just gossip. All I know for sure is that he always seemed to have time to help her if she needed him. But I have to say, that’s true of most everybody in Cliffside. He’s an awfully good sheriff, Joanna. And he finds out things, you know? I
mean, we don’t have a lot of crime here, but Sheriff Cavanaugh gets to the bottom of what we do have pretty quick. My Danny, he says the sheriff is like a terrier after a rat when he’s trying to solve a problem.”

Great. Just great. And he’s suspicious of me
.

“Sounds like he’s suited to his job,” was her only comment.

“I’ll say. We’re lucky to have him.”

Joanna nodded in casual agreement, but her thoughts were anything but casual. A terrier after a rat equaled a man dedicated to the truth, but if that man had been involved with a victim of a so-called accident, even supposing he had not been involved in causing that accident, just how deeply would he dig for the truth?

“Another Coke, Joanna? Or something to eat? It’ll be lunchtime soon, you know.”

“I’m not really hungry,” Joanna said, conjuring a faint smile. “I think I’ll go on with my shopping now that I’ve rested.”

“For a little town,” Mavis offered proudly, “we have some pretty good stuff, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Joanna said. “Oh, yeah.”

It was after two o’clock when Joanna came out of On the Corner to find Griffin leaning back against the store’s old-fashioned railing and quite obviously waiting for her. She was empty-handed, all her purchases having been left in the store behind her to be delivered to the hotel, and the bits and pieces of information she’d acquired today were a jumble in her head.

Even more, she was trying to decide if the wariness she had sensed at times today had been real or her imagination. If she had imagined it, it was no wonder, given her state of mind. But if she had not imagined it, then what lay behind it? Because she was a stranger who looked like Caroline? Because she was asking questions? Because something other than an accidental death had happened in this nice little town?

All she knew for sure, as she stood on the sidewalk, was that she felt wary herself. Especially now, confronting this man. She didn’t consider herself much of an actress, but she was determined to maintain her pose as simply a tourist enjoying the visit to his town.

So she didn’t hesitate to say, “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this, Sheriff. People will begin to talk.”

“As opposed to what they’ve been doing?” Not waiting for a reply, he asked, “Enjoying your shopping, Joanna?”

“Immensely,” she said. “I bought a lot of stuff, really good stuff.”

“I’m curious,” he said. “What’re you going to do with the basket? And with the clock in the shape of Cliffside’s courthouse?”

“Have you been following me?” she demanded.

“Not at all, I was merely on my daily rounds. Making sure the good citizens of Cliffside were all safe and happy.”

Joanna glanced around at the downtown area, fairly busy on this sunny Thursday afternoon, and wasn’t surprised to catch a number of covert looks directed toward her and the town sheriff. The problem was, what should have struck her as simple and genuine interest in someone who looked oddly like Caroline was beginning to seem sinister to her. To
feel
sinister. As if everyone but her knew something, some dark secret they didn’t want her to find out.

I’m just imagining things. Jumping at shadows
.

“They look fine to me,” she said, lying.

“I’m good at my job.”

For the life of her, Joanna couldn’t tell how strong Griffin’s sense of humor was. So far, he hadn’t so much as cracked a smile, and the very dark eyes were completely unreadable. It left her uncertain as to just how serious his supposed curiosity was. Was he suspicious of her actions, or was he, in fact, merely being a small-town sheriff?

Finally, she shrugged and said, “I can always use another basket.
Everyone
can always use another basket. And the clock is simply my souvenir of Cliffside.”

“I assumed,” he said, “your souvenir of Cliffside would be the paperweight you bought at Merton’s.”

“That should teach you not to assume. The paperweight, with its replica of The Inn inside, is obviously a souvenir of where I’m staying. Specifically where I’m staying, I mean.”

He nodded gravely. “And the needlepoint pillow? I understand it represents the architectural marvels of our little community theater.”

“The needlework,” Joanna said, “is exquisite.”

“Umm. May I ask what is this fixation you have with buildings?”

Still not so much as the glimmer of a smile. He had a great poker face, this sheriff. Joanna cleared her throat. “Look, all those things just happened to appeal to me, that’s all. Surely there isn’t a crime against buying things you like.”

“No. I just find it rather surprising. I would have sworn you weren’t the kind of woman who would buy tacky tourist souvenirs.”

“Well, obviously you were wrong.”

“That is possible. I’ll even admit I was wrong—if you can explain to me what possessed you to buy the little box covered with seashells.”

“A … souvenir for a friend back home?” she ventured.

“Male or female?” he asked with detachment.

“Female. Why?”

“She likes poker?”

Joanna blinked. “She wouldn’t know a straight flush from three of a kind. Why?”

“You didn’t even bother to look inside it, did you?”

“Well…”

“Joanna, if you’ll open that little box, you’ll find a deck of very … adult playing cards inside.”

“No wonder Tony asked me if I was sure that was what I wanted,” Joanna murmured, remembering the clerk’s uncertainty.

“And would your friend enjoy the gift?” Griffin asked politely.

Joanna sighed. “Let’s just say I should have been paying closer attention.”

“You know, you didn’t have to buy something in every store just because you went in.”

“What makes you think—”

“I believe it was the box of nails you bought in the hardware store that finally convinced me. I think they have nails in Atlanta, don’t they? Probably not much different from the ones we have here.”

Joanna was trying hard to keep a straight face, but he began smiling then and she lost it. She had a niggling suspicion that her laughter had an edge of hysteria to it, but he didn’t seem to notice and at least it eased the tension inside her. When she finally leaned against one of the railing’s posts and tried to catch her breath, he held out his handkerchief with a grin.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She wiped her watering eyes and sniffed, trying to swallow a final giggle. Definitely hysteria. “Oh God, don’t start me off again. You don’t play fair, you know that?”

“Hey, you could have explained the nails,” he said. “A loose floorboard in your room at The Inn, for instance. It’s not my fault you couldn’t think on your feet.”

“Don’t give me that. You were determined to break me up, weren’t you? Completely deadpan, and me trying to explain absurdities.”
Keep it light Keep it casual
.

Griffin accepted his handkerchief when she returned it, and said a bit ruefully, “I was half hoping you
could
explain them. Joanna, did you take a course in how to get information, or does it just come naturally?”

She sighed. “I didn’t upset anyone with questions, Griffin, I promise. Is it my fault if they just started talking about Caroline? With me looking so much like her, it’d be a miracle if nobody said anything. What was I supposed to do, interrupt whenever anyone said her name?”

“Don’t try to tell me all this was accidental,” he said.
“You’ve been working this town with all the deliberation of a census taker.”

“Let’s not get nasty, Sheriff.”

“Am I smiling?” he demanded.

She looked hard. “Well, a little bit—behind the eyes.”

He closed the eyes briefly and sighed. “We’ve got to talk about this. Look, why don’t I buy you lunch? I know you haven’t eaten yet, and I’ve…”

“You’ve been following along behind me and missed lunch too,” she said when he broke off.

“Something like that,” he said, unrepentant. “I feel like Italian. How about you?”

“I haven’t seen a sign of an Italian restaurant in town,” she said, looking around. “Where is it?”

“About fifteen miles up the coast highway toward Portland. What do you say? Want to save the other side of the street for tomorrow?”

“What’ll everybody think if we just drive off?” she asked.

“They’ll think we’re hungry,” he said dryly. “I’ll have to let my office know where I’ll be—and you don’t seriously believe that information will stay inside the Sheriff’s Department, do you?”

After all the conversations behind her, Joanna knew exactly what he meant. “No. Oh, no. There don’t seem to be very many secrets in this town.”
Except the one that counts?

“Not many.” He took her arm and began leading her down the sidewalk in the direction of the Sheriff’s Department. “By the way, I do wish I’d been privileged to meet your Aunt Sarah. Sounds like quite a lady.”