Kilt Dead (15 page)

“I doubt it. She has a commitment to the tour company.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense” She checked the oldstyle mailboxes as she chattered, pulling out both Aunt
Margaret’s mail and Dan’s from her side and passing it
over the counter. “And a package” She took back the yellow card. “Hold on” She was back a moment later. “Something from Klockit. More clock parts, huh?”

“So, Julie,” Dan said, leaning on the counter and giving her his best smile. Liss was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy at the overt flirtation. “You miss all the excitement Saturday?” The post office closed at noon.

“I guess. Terrible thing. I mean, you can see Mrs. Norris’s house plain as can be from here” She gestured at the
front window. The post office was on the northeast corner
of Ash and Pine. Mrs. Norris’s house was on the southwest corner.

“Had she come home before you left?” Liss asked.
“She was at the Highland Games earlier in the day.”

“No idea. She picked her mail up right after I opened
up. She always does. Did.” Her face twisted as she tried
to fight off tears. “I really liked her, y’know?”

“Everyone did,” Dan said as they beat a hasty retreat.

“She’s not from around here, is she?” Liss asked.

“New Yorker by birth. She married local, though. You
remember Will Simpson?”

“Simple Simpson?” Liss glanced back at the post office, trying to imagine the shy, gawky high school kid
she’d known, romantically involved with the rather brassy
woman she’d just met. Apparently opposites did attract.

Mrs. Norris’s house still had yellow crime-scene tape
over the doors, as did Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium. They continued along Pine Street to the next house,
another white clapboard Victorian but with a difference.
The shutters were painted bright purple and there was a
life-size skier on the sign mounted on the roof of the front
porch.

Stu’s Ski Shop had been in that location for years. Inside it hadn’t changed much, nor had Stu Burroughs, the
proprietor. “Well, well, if it isn’t little Amaryllis MacCrimmon” He reached up, intending to pinch her cheek, but
she took evasive action in the nick of time. She was wise
to his moves.

“Never little, Stu,” she reminded him. She’d towered
over his five feet two inches by the time she was twelve.

There followed the usual exchange. Sadness over
Mrs. Norris’s death. Plans for a memorial service. Aunt
Margaret’s obligations in Scotland. Nothing out of the ordinary to report on Saturday afternoon or evening.

“Last one,” Dan said as they stepped off the porch of
the ski shop, crossed Pine Street to the southwest corner
of the town square, and looked across Birch at the three
houses in the block between Pine and Main. When Liss
had lived at 4 Birch Street, the one in the middle, number
6 had belonged to old Mrs. Crowl. She’d gotten birthday
wishes on The Today Show during Liss’s senior year for
living to be a hundred.

“She’s dead, right?” Liss asked. “I mean, she looked
like a corpse ten years ago”

Dan snorted a laugh. “Yeah. You’re safe.”

“She used to yell at me for cutting across her yard.
And she didn’t much like my folks, either. Because of
her, Dad had to soundproof the spare bedroom so he and
I could practice on the bagpipe without getting cited for
disturbing the peace”

I wondered about that. Warmest spot in the house. Anyway, a couple from Waycross Springs bought Mrs. Crowl’s
house a few years back. They put a consignment store in
the downstairs. Sell used clothing and accessories. Surprisingly nice stuff. They’d probably do better in Fallstown,
with all the college kids there, but they seem to be making a go of it”

Liss liked Marcia Katz from the start. The visit was
another repeat of their previous stops, but Liss stayed on
and chatted a bit, admiring the stock and promising to
come back when she had more time to browse. The line
between thrift shop and vintage clothing store was very
thin.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Marcia said as they were leaving. “I got a sale thanks to the Emporium being closed on
Saturday. Guess I should thank you for that. A couple came in. Asked if I had a key to Margaret’s shop because
they wanted to look around in there. When I told them I
didn’t-well, I wouldn’t have let them in even if I did
have one-they spent some time in here and the woman
bought a nice designer scarf that was just as good as new.
Priced like it too,” she added with a grin.

Liss felt her heart speed up as she stepped back into
the shop. “What did they look like?”

“Well, let me see. I’m not so good at remembering
faces. The guy was real pushy. You know the type? Wants
what he wants when he wants it?”

“Big nose? Thin lips? Late thirties or early forties?”

“Could be. I didn’t look at him that closely. The
woman with him was a blonde. I remember that”

“Strawberry blonde?”

“Yeah” Marcia’s face cleared. “And she wore it in a
bun of some sort. She was the classy type, except for her
perfume. Strong, you know?”

“Jason Graye and Barbara. I don’t know her last name”

“Couldn’t prove it by me,” Marcia said.

“Do you remember what time this was?”

“Afternoon sometime. Sorry, that’s the best I can do. Is
it important?”

“Probably not. They were at the fairgrounds earlier
and I told them the Emporium was closed. They must not
have wanted to take my word for it.”

“That goes with this guy’s attitude. Don’t you hate
customers like that?”

Liss waited until she and Dan were outside and on their
way next door to his house to comment further on Jason
Graye. “Do you think he could have tried to get in the
back door after he found out Marcia didn’t have a key?”

“Even if he did, even if he found the key over the door
and went in, why would he kill Mrs. Norris? If she’d
caught him, he’d have been embarrassed, but that would
just have made him bluster at her. All sound and fury-“

“Signifying nothing. Nice quote, but I’m not sure it’s
accurate. I wish we knew when he was here. It must have
been sometime between one and two when Barbara looked
at kilts in the booth. Do they both live in Moosetookalook?”

“He does. Over on Lowe Street near my dad’s house. I
don’t know about her.” Dan glanced at his watch as they
climbed the steps to his front porch. “We’ve got time
enough to put together some sandwiches for lunch. Then
I’ve got to get to the construction site. What are you
going to do this afternoon?”

Liss turned to look at the square and the buildings surrounding it. Her gaze returned a second time to the municipal building. “I’m going to stop by the police station
and find out when I can get back into Aunt Margaret’s.”

i “low soon can I move back into my aunt’s apartment?”

Jeff Thibodeau shrugged. “Coffee?” he offered, waving her toward an uncomfortable-looking plastic chair.

“No thanks. Just information.”

Liss had never visited the police department before
and was surprised at how small it was. Stuck at the back
of the municipal building, the whole shebang consisted
of a reception area, presently unoccupied, an office with
two desks, and a tiny holding cell, also empty, in a connecting room. Since that door stood open, she had a clear
view of a space not much bigger than a closet.

Perched on the edge of her chair, Liss clasped her
hands over her knees and waited until Officer Thibodeau
was seated behind the desk facing her. Then she repeated
her question.

Thibodeau had been on the Moosetookalook Police
Force three full-timers and a handful of part-timers-as
long as Liss could remember. He’d been “Officer Friendly”
for school programs and done annual safety inspections
on all the kids’ bicycles. It didn’t occur to her to be wary
of him. She couldn’t lump him in the same category as Detective LaVerdiere any more than she could put Sherri or
Pete there.

Smoothing down the few wispy strands of hair that surrounded a nearly bald head, Thibodeau hemmed and
hawed a bit before finally admitting he didn’t have an answer to give her. “Local police get pushed pretty well out
of an investigation like this, unless they happen to know
something that’s useful. Not that I’m complaining. I
wouldn’t want the responsibility. Tricky thing, murder.”

“Do you suppose you could find out for me?” Liss
gave him her most winning smile. “If I could get back in
tonight, I might still be able to open the shop on schedule
tomorrow.”

He shifted his big body in the oversized desk chair and
began to fiddle with a pencil. “I’ll see what I can do, if
you’re sure you want to open”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Bound to draw rubberneckers. Just like the scene of a
traffic accident. Everybody’s got to slow down and take a
look, even though they know it would be better if they
just kept on driving.”

“I don’t mean to sound heartless, nor do I approve of
that kind of curiosity, but since I can’t do anything to control other people’s habits, I’d just as soon Aunt Margaret
got the advantage of them. If they want to come in and
gawk, let them buy souvenirs.”

Thibodeau grinned. “Hey-you could sell tickets for a
peek at the stockroom”

“That’s cop humor, right?”

“Pretty sick, huh? Still, there’s nothing wrong with
turning lemons into lemonade. I’ll find out when you can
take the crime-scene tape down. You going to be at Dan’s
house all day?”

It didn’t surprise Liss that he knew where she was
staying, but she was relieved to hear no censure in his
voice. “I’ll be there until I can get back into Aunt Margaret’s apartment”

“He’s a good kid, that Dan”

“Not such a kid these days”

“Well, yeah, but I gave him his first speeding ticket.
That’s what I remember. Haven’t had a bit of trouble with
him since.”

“That’s good to know.” She hesitated, then asked about
something else that had been bothering her. “Any problems lately with Ernie Willett?”

“You’re thinking of that incident at the Emporium?
That was a fluke” He made a dismissive gesture with his
free hand the other was still toying with a pencil, flipping it over and over between his fingers. “Ernie’s usually
got better control of his temper than that. Oh, we were out
to his place on domestic disputes a time or two, but let me
tell you something-Ida Willett’s got a temper too. Had
to arrest her once for beating on him. He didn’t press
charges, though”

TMI, Liss thought. Or was it? “Ernie doesn’t seem to
like my aunt”

“He knows how to carry a grudge, I’ll give you that,
but last time I saw him and Margaret together-at a potluck supper at the church-they seemed to be friendly
enough”

“How did he get along with Mrs. Norris?”

“Same as everybody. Tolerated her. Mostly liked her.”
A wary look came into Thibodeau’s eyes. The pencil
abruptly stilled. “What are you getting at, Liss?”

“Detective LaVerdiere has some wild theory that Mrs.
Norris was a blackmailer,” Liss blurted.

The pencil snapped in half. Very carefully, Thibodeau
tossed both pieces into the wastepaper basket. “First I’ve
heard it. You sure?”

Liss nodded.

“Naw. Makes no sense. Nice old lady like her?”

“She did … keep an eye on things. That bay window
of hers has a great view of the neighborhood.”

“Well, sure. She was a champion gossip collector. But
she didn’t have a mean bone in her body.” He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as well as Liss. “Besides, everybody knew she’d be watching. Nobody would
be so foolish as to get caught doing something they
shouldn’t with her looking on”

He had a point, but the tension radiating from him in
palpable waves made her wonder if he was as confident of
that as he wanted her to believe.

Carpentry was hard, sweaty work, but as Dan stepped
back from the house the crew had been framing, reaching
for the water bottle attached to his tool belt, he felt a deep
sense of satisfaction. For the most part, he enjoyed construction work, especially the kind the Ruskins did. No
high-rises in Moosetookalook. Not even many condominiums. Ruskin Construction built houses, raised barns,
put on additions to people’s homes and businesses, and
did renovations.