Kilt Dead (28 page)

Liss hesitated, then wrote:

3. Stay in Moosetookalook.

She could buy into the Emporium, if Aunt Margaret
wasn’t averse to the idea, but would that be a wise investment? The business was dangerously close to failure. She
could lose her entire inheritance from Mrs. Norris in a futile attempt to save it.

Then there was The Spruces. If it ever opened, she
supposed there would be jobs. She could even put money
into the renovation project. But there, too, the prospect of
disaster loomed. A year or two down the road, she might
end up worse off than when she’d started.

You don’t have control of your inheritance yet, she
reminded herself. And if Detective LaVerdiere had his way,
she never would. Liss repressed a shudder. She wouldn’t
have to worry about her future if she was in jail.

By the time Liss started to close up at five, she was
feeling a bit more upbeat. For one thing, Dan had phoned
to say that Mary was out of the woods. Her newborn, now
named Jason, was doing better, too. And Dan was on his
way home. They were going to have supper together after
she paid a return visit to Mrs. Norris’s house.

She was just taping a notice to the inside of the door
when she heard someone come up onto the porch. Her hand
was halfway to the new deadbolt before she recognized
her cousin. She jerked the door open instead.

“Where have you been?” She hadn’t been able to track
him down since she discovered he’d lied to her about calling his mother.

“Never mind me. What’s the meaning of this?” He
gestured angrily at the sign, which said she wouldn’t be
opening until noon the next day. “Can’t be bothered to
keep the place open? Need to sleep in on Saturday?”

“I need to attend Mrs. Norris’s memorial service.”

“Oh.” Although he took a step back, he looked more
chagrined than contrite. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“You’re going, right?” She stepped out onto the porch
and shut the door behind her.

He shrugged. “I guess” He watched her lock up, frowning. “There’s something different you changed the locks?
Why? We can’t afford-“

“If you want to talk to me, about locks or anything
else, you’ll have to tag along while I go check on Lumpkin.” Too impatient to wait for a response, she headed
across the lawn toward Mrs. Norris’s house.

Ned trailed after her. “I hate that damned cat. He bites,
you know.”

“You deserve to be bitten,” Liss said, unlocking
Mrs. Norris’s kitchen door. “You lied to me. You never
called your mother.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that” He followed her into the
house.

“You should be” Lumpkin was waiting, sitting next to
an upside-down water dish. With a sigh, Liss grabbed a
towel and started mopping up the spill. Ned, mindful of
the cat’s bad habits, prudently stayed out of the way.

“You also lied about being on vacation,” Liss said as
she straightened up with the soaked towel in her hands.
“You were fired from your last job”

“How the hell-?”

“Is it true?”

“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t my fault.”

Liss dumped the towel in the sink, disgusted with both
man and cat. She should have known better than to expect
Ned to accept responsibility for anything. Even as a kid,
he’d been an expert at shifting blame. He’d been even better at not getting caught.

Ned maintained a sulky silence, one shoulder propped
against the wall, while Liss refilled Lumpkin’s food and
water dishes and cleaned his litter box.

“Was there a reason you came looking for me?”

“Can’t a guy just stop by to see how his cousin’s doing?”

“After you’ve been avoiding me for days?” She headed
for the hallway and the stairs, intending to take a look at
the one room on the second floor that she hadn’t yet inspected.

By the time Ned caught up with her, Liss had let herself into the third, much smaller bedroom and had opened
the hope chest she found there. It appeared to be full of
memorabilia.

“What are you doing?”

“I have to give a eulogy tomorrow and I think I just
found what I need to inspire me”

He watched her burrow through the chest’s contents
for a few minutes before asking again about the new
locks.

“Someone broke into the apartment the other night.
Nothing was taken, but we’re pretty sure it was the same
person who killed Mrs. Norris.”

“Pretty sure? Not positive?”

“Unless the state police have Aunt Margaret’s spare
key, that’s the logical conclusion. If it was someone else,
then that means there’s another key floating around somewhere. Did you have one?”

“No. I always use the one over the doorsill if I need to
get in and Mom isn’t home”

“I’ll have a copy of the new key made for you. In this
day and age it’s too dangerous to leave a spare over the
door.” She pulled an old photograph album out of the hope
chest and started to go through it, ignoring Ned as he left
her to wander through the other upstairs rooms.

He was back a short time later. “Nice old place. I haven’t
been in here for years and I don’t think I was ever allowed
upstairs.”

“Mmmm” Engrossed in her discoveries about
Mrs. Norris’s past, Liss only half-listened.

“Liss? You still trying to find the killer on your own?”

Carefully, she set aside the papers she’d been reading and looked up at Ned from her perch on the floor beside
the hope chest. “I’m still a suspect, if that’s what you’re
asking.”

“So what are you doing about it?”

“Worried about me, cuz?”

“Not really. I don’t figure you’re much of a detective.”
He made a rude noise. “Not that the real ones are doing
such a bang-up job”

Irrationally irritated-not an unusual occurance around
her cousin Liss glowered at him and spoke with a bravado
she was far from feeling. “I’ll figure things out eventually, Ned. My own survival depends on it.” She shrugged
with assumed nonchalance. “It’s just a matter of asking
the right question of the right person. Then all the pieces
will fall into place.”

“What question?”

She had no idea, but she wasn’t about to tell Ned that.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yeah, I would, actually.” He left the doorway and
moved toward her, taking up a surprising amount of space
in the small room. “I “

“Liss? Where are you?” Dan’s voice boomed through
the house, making Ned jump.

“We’re up here!” A moment later she heard him on the
stairs.

“I should go °” Ned passed Dan in the hallway. They
didn’t speak.

“What was he doing here?” Dan demanded the moment he entered the room.

“Hello to you, too”

“Sorry.” He leaned down and caught her by the elbows, pulling her to her feet and straight into his arms.
“Missed you”

A short, satisfying interlude later, Liss went back to
sorting through the contents of the hope chest while Dan
told her, in more detail than she really wanted to hear, about the trials and tribulations of birthing a premature
baby.

“More excitement than I’ve had here,” she told him.
“Sadly, that applies to the Emporium, too. I can count the
number of customers on one hand and only two of them
bought anything.”

“Have you talked to Sherri since the break-in?”

“Only very short conversations. Her son has an ear infection. I filled her in on the details, such as they are”
She hesitated. “We talked a little more about the contents
of that blue binder, trying to figure out why Mrs. Norris
made those notes. Why did you take it home with you?”

“I just wanted to read the whole thing. Sorry I haven’t
gotten it back to you, but I didn’t figure there was any
rush. There’s nothing in it.”

Liss paused in the act of removing a photograph from
a frame, struck by the fact that Dan had turned away from
her … as if he wanted to make sure he avoided meeting
her eyes.

“I ran into Pete in Fallstown.”

And now he was changing the subject.

“He wasn’t able to find out anything more from the
cops but he did tell me he’s taking Sherri to our reunion. I
thought we’d make it a foursome, if that’s okay with
you?”

“Misery loves company?”

“Something like that” At ease again, he grinned at her.
“I wasn’t planning to go, but I guess I can stand to play
`do you remember’ if you’re there with me”

Liss returned the last of the items she’d been looking
through to the hope chest and closed the lid. She stared at
her hands where they rested on the highly polished wood.
“Did you happen to see Karen Cloutier while you were in
Fallstown?”

“Oh, hell! I didn’t know she was coming.” There was too much dismay in his voice to be anything but sincere.
“Can I change my mind about reunion?”

“Not a chance”

Sherri wore her one professional-looking suit and high
heels to Mrs. Norris’s memorial service. She was glad the
shoes pinched. That was the only thing keeping her awake.
If she didn’t catch some sleep sometime between now
and this evening she’d be doing a good imitation of a
zombie for her former classmates.

Hiding a yawn behind her hand, she seeped out the
other mourners. The funeral parlor’s largest room was
filled to capacity and the overflow had spilled out into the
vestibule. That was where Craig LaVerdiere had ended
up, nose in the air, eyes suspicious. Sherri was a little surprised to see him. If he was convinced Liss was the killer,
why would he need to attend? Maybe he had doubts after
all. She hoped so.

Liss and Dan were off in a corner, engaged in intense
conversation. Sherri wasn’t the only one watching them
and speculating. They practically sparked when they were
together.

So much for warning Liss not to get involved. Not that
Sherri had anything personal against Dan Ruskin. He was
a nice enough guy, but he wasn’t telling Liss everything.

Talk about the pot calling the kettle black, she
thought with a wry grimace. She was keeping a few things
from Liss herself. And not all men were untrustworthy.
Pete seemed to be-. She cut off that line of thought.
Why on earth had she let him talk her into allowing him
to escort her to the reunion? It wasn’t even his class.

Maybe she’d figure that out tonight. After she got some
sleep.

“Sherri, isn’t it?” a soft voice asked. “Is this seat taken?”

“Hello, Mrs. Biggs. Please sit down” She’d been saving it for Pete, she realized, but he hadn’t turned up yet. His
loss.

Hermione Biggs was close to Mrs. Norris’s age. Sherri
imagined they’d known each other all their lives. She was
also Barbara Zathros’s landlady.

Sherri took another look around. She recognized most
of the Moosetookalook residents. Even though it had
been a while since she’d actually lived in this little town,
she’d worked at the Emporium since her return. She’d met
everyone in the neighborhood at least once. Absentees
were easy to spot. There was no sign of Lenny Peet or
Ned Boyd. Jason Graye hadn’t shown up and neither had
his lady friend.

At precisely ten o’clock, Liss mounted the podium to
begin her tribute to their late neighbor. She had found a
good photograph of Mrs. Norris and had it mounted on a
stand beside her.

“I don’t think most of us knew Amanda Norris as well
as we thought we did,” Liss said with a glance at the likeness. She shuffled the note cards in front of her, but she
didn’t need to look at them. “She was born in 1925 and
married young. Her husband was killed fighting in World
War II. Afterward, she moved into the house on Pine
Street, which at that time belonged to her mother-in-law,
and commuted to classes at what is now the Fallstown
branch of the University of Maine. Back then it was a
teacher’s college, one of the best around, and when she
graduated she took a job right here in Moosetookalook.
After her mother-in-law died, she inherited the house and
continued to live there until her own death. She kept
teaching until she was seventy.”

After a few more words, centering on Mrs. Norris’s
love of reading, Liss invited other neighbors to take the
podium. Hermione Biggs was the first to comply.

“Amanda discovered the Internet about five years ago.
She joined all kinds of groups to talk about the things that interested her. Her favorite was the fanfic group, filled
with other people who loved to read mysteries. And then
there were the online auctions. She had a ball buying and
selling online. Her mother-in-law left behind a collection
of Hummels. Amanda always hated them. She preferred
Royal Doulton figurines. She found good homes for the
Hummels and bought several of what she called her `little
ladies’ with the proceeds”

Another of Mrs. Norris’s former students reminisced
about the way she’d taught spelling. She’d made up stories incorporating each week’s list of words. Sherri remembered being featured in one of those tales herself. It
had been a science-fiction saga, she recalled. When she
misspelled a word, Mrs. Norris had banished her to a
planet where the inhabitants had nothing but spinach to
eat.