To Catch a Leaf (30 page)

That was good news?

“Just show Marco's mum the love, dear,” I heard Grace say from the other side of the curtain.

“Thank you, Grace.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I
glanced through the big bay window and saw people gathered outside the door, holding cats in their arms, waiting for the shop to open.

“Okay, here's what we'll do,” I said. “Grace and I will handle the shop, and Lottie, would you go outside and take pictures of the cats with our digital camera? I'll print them out; then Marco and I can take them to the Newport mansion at noon and see if Juanita will help us again. We need to find that missing feline so these people will stop coming around.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lottie said. “I'll hand out business cards, so maybe we'll even get some orders out of it.”

While Lottie worked with the crowd, I put in a desperate call to Marco at Down the Hatch. Fortunately, this time he picked up. “Hey, how's my gorgeous redhead? Sorry I didn't call you back right away, Buttercup. I got your message and—”

“Never mind about that, Marco. How quickly can you bring that invitation book down here?”

“Let me guess. My mom is on her way.”

“You got it.”

“On my way, too,” the wise, wise man of my dreams said.

 

As luck would have it, when Marco stopped by, we were swamped with customers. I ducked into the workroom just long enough to get the invitation binder and a kiss and give him a condensed version of my code theory.

“It's a solid theory, Abby. I like it.”

I beamed. “And I have a great excuse to get us back inside the mansion.” I showed him the photos I'd printed out. “Cats!”

“Awesome, babe. Now I've got to concentrate on finding Frank Talbot.”

“See you at noon?”

“I've got a meeting with Dave at eleven, and I'm not sure how long it will take, so let's play it by ear.”

We paused as the front door jingled. I heard Marco's mom call a greeting to Grace.

“You'd better go out the back way,” I said, “unless you feel like looking at those invitations again.”

Marco hugged me, then started walking backward, heading toward the kitchen. “For that you're getting a foot massage tonight.”

“Make it both feet and you've got a deal.”

 

As usual, Francesca looked fantastic. Hair soft and flowing, jacket and scarf draped just so, making me wish I'd taken more time with my appearance that morning.

She set down a huge pan in her hand to give me a hug and to kiss both my cheeks. “Bella, you look tense this morning. Too much work, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“Don't worry. I am here to help. I came early because my daughter asked me to babysit at noon. And I've brought my famous
Filetto alla Rossini
, made with the freshest, grass-fed, organic beef, so you needn't worry about lunch, either. I had to hunt all over for the beef, but nothing is too good for my family. Now, let's see what you've decided about the invitations.”

Over Francesca's shoulder, I caught sight of Grace standing in the parlor doorway. She mouthed, “Show her the love.”

I took a deep breath. “I was wondering . . . if you'd found any that you liked.”

Francesca gave me a puzzled look, so I handed her the binder. “Would you show me?”

“Yes, of course.” She placed it on the cashier's counter and began to flip through the samples, finally tapping her finger on one. “This one would be perfect for the Salvare shower.”

She was taller than me, so I couldn't see her selection until she stepped aside. Then I did a double take. “
That's
the one you like?”

A wrinkle creased her brow. “You don't like it?”

“No, I
do
like it!”

“Really?”

“Really.” And that was the absolute truth because it was the same invitation Marco and I had picked out, a beige linen look with darker-colored deckled edges. “I love it, Mrs. Salvare. You have excellent taste.”

I saw movement in the parlor doorway and glanced up see Grace give me an encouraging thumbs-up.

“And,” I said, “I think it's perfect for the Salvare shower.”

With a delighted laugh, she hugged me so hard she lifted me off my feet. “Abby, bella, thank you! It makes me so happy that you're pleased with my choice. Maybe you should use the invitations for the Knight shower, too, yes?”

“Sure. I can do that.”

Then she laughed, a light, tinkling sound that was pleasing to the ear. “My Marco was right. You don't hide your emotions well at all. I know you want one big shower, Abby, and if that will make you happy, then that will make me happy, too. One big shower for both families.”

I hugged her. “That will make me
very
happy, Mrs. Salvare.”

She held me by my arms and gave me a serious stare. “Now we will get one more thing out of the way. No more Mrs. Salvare. It's Francesca. Say it with me. Fran. Ches. Ka. Yes?”

“Yes, Francesca.” I felt my face go hot all over. It felt odd to call her by her first name, but I supposed in time I'd get used it.

“Later on you will call me Mama.” And with that, she went into the back room to hang up her coat.

 

With Francesca helping out, I had a little window of free time in the late morning, so I decided to use it to see if I could find the missing cat. I called Marco to see if he could go with me to the Newport mansion, but he was still in his meeting, so I went alone.

Fortunately, the gates were open, so I drove straight up the long driveway and parked in front of the garage. As I headed toward the courtyard, I caught sight of Mrs. Dunbar in her gardening clothes and rubber shoes, with a basket over one arm, walking toward the back of the property. I called to her, but she didn't hear me, so I kept going.

I knocked on the back door and waited, hoping someone would be in the kitchen. After a few minutes, I tried the door and found it unlocked, so I peered inside. “Hello?”

Getting no answer, I stepped into the house and called again, but all was silent.

Hmm
. Wasn't this how Grace had started out?

I glanced at the door to the basement, but it was closed and no light showed beneath it.
Whew
.

Hearing a door open behind me, I spun around and saw Lindsey just coming in from the outside. She had on jeans and that red coat I lusted after, her blond hair pulled back in a swingy ponytail.

“Hi, Abby,” she said, as though seeing me in the Newports' kitchen was an everyday occurrence.

“The door was open, so I kind of let myself in.” I shrugged sheepishly.

“Mrs. Dunbar has a habit of leaving it unlocked. Don't worry. I let myself in all the time. Are you here to see Juanita?”

“Yes. I brought more cat photos.”

“She should be here in about fifteen minutes. She had a mani-pedi appointment.”

Drat. Fifteen minutes of valuable time wasted.

“I know what Charity looks like,” Lindsey said. “Want me to look at the photos?”

“That would be great.” I pulled the photos out of my purse and handed them to her.

Lindsey went through the pile one by one, shaking her head. She paused at one, then said, “Nope, not that one either. Sorry. None of these are her. I hope they aren't strays. I'd hate to think of so many cats being homeless.”

“Me, too. But thanks for your help.”

“I'd better get moving,” Lindsey said. “I help Juanita teach a Shakti yoga class on Fridays, and I have to get the room ready.”

“I'll see myself out.”

I opened the back door just as Griffin came up the walk. When he saw me, he stopped in surprise that instantly turned to irritation. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Juanita to show her some new cat photos.”

“Juanita is clearly not here, as evidenced by the empty garage bay.”

Never one to waste an opportunity, I said, “Actually, maybe you could help me. I'm looking for information about Virginia's boyfriend.”

“I have said all I'm going to. So, nice seeing you again. Good-bye.”

I hated to be blown off. It brought out my Irish temper.

“I know about your affair, Griffin,” I blurted.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

G
riffin's smile froze. “What did you say?”

“I know about your affair?”

“I think you'd better leave right now.”

“Okay, if you don't want to talk about that, could you tell me about Virginia and Francis Talbot?”

He seemed flustered by the change in subject. “What?”

“Your aunt and her boyfriend. Are they still seeing each other?”

He made a dismissive motion. “I don't keep track of my aunt's activities.”

“Then what do you know about the forged paintings?”

“My dear girl, where do you get such deluded ideas? I didn't learn about the forgeries until Ventury discovered them.”

“Then you and Juanita weren't in on the scheme?”

“What scheme? I knew nothing about what my aunt was up to. I thought she gave up on her crazy idea, so before you start trying to link me to the crime—”

“You're already linked, Griffin. So if you're not involved, talk to me.”

“I really don't have time for this.”

“Do you have time for the police to start investigating you? Because I know enough to make them very interested in you as a suspect.”

He studied me for a long moment. “If I do tell you, what's in it for me?”

“My silence. I can keep my mouth shut when I want to, but I've got to have a reason to want to.” Wow. I sounded just like Marco.

His forehead wrinkled, as though he didn't know what to make of me. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, as if totally perplexed. I often had that affect on people.

“So, if I tell you about my aunt's so-called scheme, you'll stop making me look like a suspect?”

I smiled in relief. “Sounds like we have a deal.”

“Shall we sit in the courtyard?” Griffin led the way to a stone bench, took out a freshly ironed handkerchief, dusted off one end of the bench, and offered me a seat.

Putting his foot up on the bench and taking his chin in hand, he leaned toward me, as though waiting for a signal to begin.

“First, tell me how Virginia's plan was supposed to work.”

He thought for a moment. “Picture this, if you will. Grandmother gathers us together to warn us that unless we become a credit to our family and get involved in her pet charities, she will cut us out of her will. Just imagine our reaction to that news. The next thing I know, here comes Virginia with this outlandish idea to sell off the art collection, determined not to be cheated out of her rightful inheritance. We thought she had gone completely off her rocker and refused to go along with her. In truth, I couldn't have cared less about any inheritance because I earn a tidy income all on my own. At any rate, I heard nothing more about it and assumed my aunt had dropped the idea.”

“Did your aunt say who was going to help her get rid of the collection?”

“No. I would suppose the professor had a hand in it, but I know nothing more than what I've told you.”

“What can you tell me about this professor?”

“I met the man at dinner once and thought him a bore.”

At that, I showed him the photo Marco had printed out that was still tucked into my purse. “Is this the professor?”

“A bit younger, I would say, but yes. That's him.”