Romeow and Juliet (13 page)

“Berta Perkins did say she was put out when Maggie refused to support her campaign to have part of the funding for the library diverted to the arts program,” Marley finally said.

Berta owned an art gallery that sold high-end products, but she was also involved in a local arts program that held classes at the high school a couple of nights a week. Funding for the program had been cut, and Berta had argued that the money remaining in the island’s discretionary account, which covered the library as well as the theater arts program, should be divided equally. Maggie had come out in support of sharing the money between the theater arts and the arts programs but was steadfastly against using any of the library funds, arguing that the library provided a service to a larger percentage of the island’s population.

“And her group has been using the Bait and Stitch on Wednesday evenings for the needlework group she’s been involved with,” Marley added.

I wasn’t certain that being upset over support for a funding issue was a good motive for poisoning someone, but Berta did have a motive and she had opportunity, so I added her to the list.

“Okay,” I said, “who else?”

Marley thought about it. “Well, Francine Rivers, of course. She’s not only angry with your aunt over the cat sanctuary but she’s also Maggie’s opponent in the council race. Maggie is the front runner, but Francine has a really good chance if Maggie had to drop out. And she’s here for both the Thursday book club and the senior women’s group on Mondays.”

I’d already thought of Francine, but I hated to think she’d stoop so low. The two women had been friends for a lot of years until the cats came between them. Still, she did have opportunity and motive, so I wrote her name down.

“Speaking of the senior women’s group, I spoke to Patience Tillman the other day, and she mentioned that the group planned to support Francine in the election. It was my understanding that they were going to back Maggie. Do you know why they changed their minds?”

“Apparently, Patience is convinced that her husband, Toby, has eyes for Maggie.”

I frowned. “Why would she think that? Maggie surely hasn’t . . .”

“Maggie didn’t do anything, but Toby does tend to spend a lot of time hanging around the store when Maggie’s here. Even more so since she’s been sick. He claims he needs to buy fishing supplies, but he seems to draw each visit out and goes out of his way to do little things for Maggie that she’s too weak to do herself. Some might say he’s just being neighborly, but I can see why Patience feels the way she does.”

“Jealousy is a strong motive for violence,” I said.

I added Patience to the list, which, I had to admit, was pretty weak. While all of these women might have motive and opportunity, I was certain none of them would actually put arsenic in Maggie’s tea.

“Is there anyone else?” I asked hopefully. “Anyone at all? Maybe someone who’s been lurking around more often than they normally do?”

“Maggie’s tea is delivered once a month,” Marley pointed out. “Whoever is tampering with it doesn’t necessarily need to be hanging around a lot. They only need to be here when the new tea arrives.”

Marley was right. I was never going to figure this out with my current line of reasoning.

Not only had I not solved the mystery I’d set out to wrap up that day but I had a new one to add to my ever-growing list. I’d asked Finn about looking into Mrs. Trexler’s disappearance, but he’d insisted it seemed she’d left of her own free will. I decided I’d check the next day, and if she still wasn’t back . . . well, I didn’t know what I’d do.

By the time Cam showed up at my door with the pizza I was starving. I realized I hadn’t taken the time to eat since the early morning coffee I’d shared with the man who was creating quite a lot of confusion in my mind and my emotions. After we’d helped ourselves to several pieces each, we retired to the front deck to watch the sun set.

“So did you have any luck?” I asked as I sipped the excellent wine Cam had brought.

“It took a lot longer than I planned, but I managed to do some backtracking. The money that was deposited into Gary Pixley’s account originated from the Cayman Islands. The account that paid it out belongs to a company that I now know is associated with Bill Powell’s overseas operations.”

“So Bill did it. I knew it! The guy is a snake.”

“Actually, we don’t know that Bill did anything. He’s claiming he had no knowledge of the transfer, and there are a handful of people who work for him who could have initiated the payoff, including his CFO and his operations manager, who’s based on the island where the bank transfer occurred.”

“Maybe one of these men transferred the money, but neither of them is on this island, so they couldn’t have killed Keith Weaver or poisoned my aunt. It has to be Bill,” I insisted.

Cam took a sip from his own wineglass. “I know you’d like to see this wrapped up, but keep in mind that we still don’t know if the three incidents are related. I do think it’s unlikely that one of Bill’s employees would have initiated the payoff to Gary Pixley without Bill’s consent. Deputy Finnegan thinks so as well and has brought him in for questioning. Hopefully, we’ll know more by tomorrow. In the meantime, we have a forensic accountant looking at all of Bill’s financial dealings.”

Romeo got up from his napping spot on the swing and jumped into Cam’s lap.

“He seems to really like you,” I commented as the cat began to purr.

“He’s a great cat.” Cam began scratching him behind the ears. “I’m a bit worried about him now that Francine is back.”

“Worried?” I asked.

“I’m pretty sure she realized her Juliet had been defiled, and I’m equally sure she knows who the Casanova is who defiled her. I’m surprised she hasn’t already been by to read you the riot act.”

“Great. Something to look forward to. Did she say how your mom is doing?”

“Better. I guess I’ll see myself when I get back to the mainland. I missed the last ferry tonight and Wednesdays are my regular day at the bank, but I should head back tomorrow evening.”

“Are you staying with Francine for the night?” I asked.

“I thought I’d check into the bed and breakfast in town.”

“You can sleep on my sofa,” I found myself offering. What? Was I stupid? Less than twenty-four hours ago I thought the man was a killer and now I was offering him a spot on my sofa?

Cam smiled. “It sounds like an offer that might be worth accepting.”

“I’m only offering the sofa. Nothing more,” I emphasized. “Besides, if Francine does come by to defend Juliet’s honor, you’ll be here to help defend Romeo.”

“Okay, I accept, then.”

“I need to head over to see to the cats in the sanctuary. Would you like to come along?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ve been curious about the cause of the tantrum Francine seems to throw every time the sanctuary is brought up. How many cats do you exactly have?”

I filled Cam in on the demographic makeup of our current residents as we walked across the lawn toward the large wooden building. “I expect our population to grow any day now because we have two cats about to deliver. Luckily, I also have two litters that are ready for homes, so things will even themselves out.”

Several of the cats trotted over to greet us when we walked into the building. Even the most antisocial cat knew that when Maggie or I appeared, food was on its way, so most showed interest in my arrival. I gave Cam the grand tour, cleaning litter boxes and filling food and water bowls as I made my way from cat room to cat room.

“The cats in this room are the ones that have been fully socialized,” I informed Cam as we entered the last of them. “They’re ready for adoption as soon as we can find them forever homes.”

“And how do you do that?” Cam seemed interested.

“Currently, Maggie or I take the cats to adoption clinics once or twice a month on the mainland. Once Coffee Cat Books is opened we plan to spotlight four or five at a time in the cat lounge. We hope the cats and their prospective owners will find each other.”

“Speaking of Coffee Cat Books,” Cam began, “I meant to tell you that I received final approval for your loan as I was walking out the door.”

“Really?” I screeched with happiness.

“The final paperwork should be available to sign tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” I hugged Cam. He seemed surprised and then hugged me back.

I took a step back. “Tara will be so happy. I should call her.”

“Go ahead. I’ll finish up in here and then meet you back at the house. It’s the least I can do for letting me stay with you tonight.”

“Are you sure?” I hesitated.

“Don’t worry. I can clean a couple of cat boxes and refill food and water dishes.”

I hugged Cam again. “Thanks. Just pull the door closed when you’re done. It locks automatically.”

The next morning I heard a knocking on the door just as I was about to get into the shower. It was probably Francine, here to read me the riot act about Romeo’s potential bastard children.

“Can you get that?” I called to Cam, who I’d left at the kitchen table drinking coffee.

I heard voices in the background as I stuck my head under the warm spray, so I assumed he’d done as I’d asked. My invitation to Cam had been spontaneous the previous evening, but it turned out that we’d had a nice evening. As expected, Tara was over-the-moon happy when I informed her that we’d been approved for the full amount of our loan and insisted on coming over so we could discuss the remodel, which she was itching to get started. Cam, Tara, and I had talked late into the evening. The fruit of our conversation was a plan that was far superior to what Tara and I had come up with on our own. There was no doubt about it; Cam was a savvy businessman who knew what he was doing. No wonder he’d made so much money in what couldn’t have been all that long a career.

I tried to figure out how old Cam was. It seemed rude to come right out and ask, but I found that I was curious. He’d mentioned that he had an MBA, which I figured must have taken two years or so to complete. If he’d graduated high school when he was eighteen, that would have made him twenty-four when he graduated college and grad school.

He’d mentioned that he’d worked in banking for ten years before deciding he’d had enough. That would bring him up to thirty-four. I seemed to remember him saying that he’d been traveling the world for the past couple of years, so I imagined Cam was thirty-six or thirty-seven. He’d also talked about wanting to find a new career when he’d completed the job he’d agreed to do for his brother. It seemed to me that it would be difficult to start all over again at this point in his life, but maybe that was just because from where I stood, thirty-seven sounded too old to learn new tricks.

When I returned to the kitchen it was empty. Cam had said he needed to leave for work. Francine hadn’t lingered, and Romeo seemed to be fine, so I imagined Cam had handled the feisty woman without bloodshed. I still had a strange feeling about the banker, but I had to admit I was going to miss having him living next door. Romeo was going to miss him as well. It seemed that my vagabond cat had really bonded with the guy.

After seeing to the cats I headed into town and the Bait and Stitch. Maggie had called to say that she was going to be coming home on the Thursday morning ferry, and I wanted to be sure that everything was in tip-top shape when she arrived.

“You spent the night with Camden Bradford?” Danny accused seconds after he walked through the front door of the Bait and Stitch.

“I so did not,” I defended. “Well, actually, I did. But it’s not what you think.”

By this point Marley and the women at the quilting table had 100 percent of their attention focused on Danny and me.

“He was at your cabin at seven-thirty this morning.”

“He slept on the sofa. Francine is back and he was due to work at the island branch today. Besides, he missed the last ferry.”

“If he’s friends with Francine he could have stayed with her,” Danny pointed out.

“Or you could have let him stay at Maggie’s,” Marley added.

I glared at both of them. “Who I allow to sleep on my sofa is my business.”

Marley looked away, but Danny opened his mouth as if to speak.

“You’re my brother, not my father,” I added for good measure.

Someone at the table behind me snickered.

“Besides, how do you even know that Cam spent the night at the cabin?” I asked.

“Cody told me,” Danny said.

“Cody? How in the heck does Cody know who I did or did not spend the night with?”

“He stopped by this morning to speak to you and Camden Bradford answered the door. He told Cody you were in the shower.”

“Oh, my,” one of the women sitting at the table giggled.

Great. News of my overnight guest would probably make the front page of the island’s newspaper. If we still had an island paper, that is.

“That’s because I
was
in the shower,” I explained. “I heard someone knock on the door, but I thought it was Francine, come to read me the riot act for allowing Romeo to defile her Juliet.”

I rolled my eyes.
All
the women at the quilting table were snickering now.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to let strange men sleep at your place, even if they are sleeping on the sofa,” Danny warned.

“And I don’t think it’s a good idea to take strange women back to your boat when you can’t even remember their names,” I shot back.

Suddenly half of the women in the room gasped.

Danny looked over my shoulder. “Perhaps this is a conversation best left for another time.”

“Yeah,” I had to agree. It was.

“The main reason I ran into Cody in the first place was because I went to talk to Finn and Cody was there.”

I frowned. “Why was Cody at Finn’s?”

“They were friends,” Danny reminded me. “Actually, they still are.”

I guess that was true. Damn small-town living.

“So why did you go to see Finn?” I asked.

“I wanted to see how he was doing on the case.”

“Camden didn’t kill anyone,” I asserted. I know I’ve been the number one spokesperson for his guilt, but somewhere along the line I guess I’d accepted he was innocent.

“Yeah, that’s Finn’s conclusion as well.”

“So if Finn has come to the conclusion that Cam is innocent, did he say why?” I asked.

“He’s been working to follow the money deposited into Gary Pixley’s account and found a document with Bill Powell’s signature.”

“I knew it,” I trumpeted.

“It was a forgery. Camden Bradford offered the proof.”

Okay, I was somewhat deflated. “So what does that prove?” I asked. “If they’re working together like we thought, he could just be covering for him.”

“You still aren’t sure he’s innocent,” Danny charged.

I blushed.

“There’s a part of you that still believes he’s a killer and you let him stay at your place. How dumb are you?”

“Pretty dumb, I guess. So what proof did Cam offer that led Finn to believe he’s innocent?”

“I guess the
B
in Bill’s name was very distinct, so he was able to identify the person who forged the signature as his brother-in-law.”

Everyone, including me, gasped.

“Finn said Cam was really torn up when he found out that his brother-in-law was in on the blackmail from the beginning. Finn seems to think he gave up a lot to turn him in.”

“Poor Cam. He gave up six months of his life for his brother-in-law and the guy was involved in dirty dealing all the while. Did his sister know?”

“He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think so, but he was on his way to find out when I left.”

So Cam’s brother-in-law—in an effort to further his own career, I imagine—made a deal with someone from Bill Powell’s company.

“Was Bill in on it?” I asked.

“Finn doesn’t think so. Why allow someone to forge your signature if you’re in on it? He was planning to have a discussion with Bill in an attempt to get to the bottom of things.”

“Does Finn think the men behind the blackmail were responsible for Keith Weaver’s death?” I wondered.

“It looks that way,” Danny said.

“And Maggie’s poisoning?”

“I don’t see how those men could be responsible for that.”

“I was afraid of that.”