Page 20

Chapter Twenty

On our drive home, Alan and I discussed our impressions of the Wileys. On the surface, they seemed friendly enough, though a bit self-absorbed. “I thought it strange,” I remarked, “that they hadn’t been more solicitous of Liz after her husband’s death.”

“They wanted to give her time to grieve.”

“Not after at least twenty-five years of close neighborly ties,” I said.

“We don’t know how things changed after the Sterlings’ son died. Maybe they had more of a business relationship when Ed became Joe’s accountant.”

I let that thought sink in, which left me feeling uneasy. “You know, money can be a powerful motivator. Didn’t someone tell us that Ed oversaw people’s wealth?”

Alan nodded. “His brother said something like that, but the obituary emphasized Ed’s honesty and trustworthiness.”

“Why?” I asked redundantly. “Who puts that in an obituary unless there were questions about it?”

“What’s your point? ”

“Well, Ed apparently died unexpectedly of natural causes.”

“Right,” Alan agreed.

I paused, thinking. “Based on his brother’s comment, what if Ed invested his clients’ money, but things went badly? Maybe he had a Ponzi scheme going, then he suddenly died. Poor Liz had to close out his accounts, but one hinged on another so she went into hiding.”

Alan laughed. “You have a wonderful imagination, honey.”

“It’s not far-fetched,” I contended.

“I suppose it’s not, but a small town such as Aspen Notch wouldn’t have enough people with a lot of money.”

“I’ll bet River Mill Country Club has plenty of cash flow, and so does our doctor neighbor. In fact, while I think about it, how many members used Ed Sterling as their accountant? That’s what we need to investigate.”

Alan didn’t look very convinced. “We were hired to find Liz, not investigate fraud.”

“I think the two go hand-in-hand. When we get home, I’ll call Janice Walker. She may be helping her sister-in-law clean up the money mess.”

“Why wait?” Alan queried. “You’ve got her number in your contacts.” He gave me a quick glance with a quirky expression, and it looked like a dare to me.

“I’m not sure what I should say.”

When he laughed, I knew I was on my own.

Showing my independent side, I pressed the number in my contacts. “Hi,” I said in a friendly tone. “I’m Sue Jaworski and I live on Church Street across from your sister-in-law. You might have seen me at my garden shop in the old log cabin that I call Butterflies and Blooms. ”

I disconnected after hearing the click .

“What did she say?” Alan questioned.

Placing the phone in my pocket, I murmured, “Nothing. She hung up on me.” I didn’t like the sound of his guffaws.

^^^

We weren’t home five minutes before Alan received a call from Clare. He’d let Sophie out to the back yard while I scooped kibble into her bowl, though I heard him ask if the issue could wait until morning. Evidently, it couldn’t.

“Clare needs to show us something in Liz’s house,” he said.

I chuckled. “I’m glad she called you, and not me.”

“We should both go. She said it’s important.”

I called Sophie in and watched as she ate. “She’s been alone most of the day, Alan.”

“Then, we’ll take her with us. After all, she likes Clare.”

I conceded, thinking a walk would be good for both of us. Seeing her tail wag when I returned from the laundry room with her harness and leash reinforced that she liked the idea.

I let Alan do the honors since Sophie didn’t pull as much when he walked her and, with the descending darkness, we had to cross the busy Church Street. Luckily, her collar and harness had reflectors on them.

Clare greeted us at the door, and Alan explained the reason we had to bring Sophie. “I’m glad you did,” she said while rubbing our dog’s ears. I’ve missed her.”

After Alan let her off the leash, we followed Clare inside and up the stairs. It made me smile to see our curious pup sniffing so many new scents .

“After I left Jane this morning,” she explained, “I decided to explore the bedroom Liz used for her office. Ed had an office in town, though he must have stored some things on the computer up here.”

“Do you have the password?” Alan asked, giving me a sideward glance.

She held up a stack of index cards. “I found these in the desk drawer.”

I took a closer look. Each card identified a website, ID, and password. Grinning, I congratulated her with a “Well done!”

Alan gazed at the computer screen. “What’s this file?”

“It looks like a listing of Ed’s clients with their addresses and phone numbers. I think Liz didn’t close the spreadsheet when she turned off the computer because it popped up when I entered the right password.”

“That’s amazing,” Alan muttered. “Can we print a copy?”

While Clare turned on the printer, I looked for Sophie. She had apparently gone exploring, though I located her in the master bedroom sniffing the contents of the closet. I managed to lure her back to the office where she received more head rubs from her new friend.

After retrieving the pages from the printer, Alan turned to Clare. “Do you happen to know the address for Ed’s office?”

She reached into the top desk drawer and handed him the business card. “It won’t do you much good. I walked into town to check it out this afternoon, but there’s already a new renter. He told me the place had been cleaned out and freshly painted before he took over the lease.”

“Did he mention if someone put everything in storage? ”

She shook her head. “I didn’t think to ask. I mean, I just assumed Lizzie had taken all of Ed’s stuff.”

“Probably,” Alan agreed, “but where’d she put it? Sergeant Mark and I went through this whole house and the garage, yet we didn’t find any office equipment or supplies.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “Where could my sister have stored all of it?”

I spoke up. “There are storage units near the interstate.” The memory of an unsavory character locking me in one of those made me cringe.

Alan caught my eye and gave a slight shake of his head. I knew he recalled the incident I wanted to forget, though he put it aside. “That’s a possibility, Sue. I’ll give the office landlord a call in the morning.” Pocketing the business card, he turned to leave.

I called for Sophie who had disappeared again. We found her on the bed in the master bedroom, lying on a lady’s vintage print scarf.

Clare laughed. “That’s so sweet. Maybe she bonded with Liz at some point.”

“I guess that’s possible if your sister ever came to my shop. Do you have any photos of her?”

She pointed to the framed picture on the bureau. “That’s Ed and Liz, maybe from their 25th wedding anniversary.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’ve seen her before, probably in my garden shop, though she never mentioned living across the street. You definitely share a family resemblance.”

“We do,” she agreed with a nostalgic smile.

I coaxed Sophie to come, but she refused to leave the scarf. She carried it downstairs where Alan hooked her to the leash. Clare insisted that she take it home since it didn’t look expensive.

Approaching the front door, I asked, “Do you know where Liz’s sister-in-law lives?”

“Janice? Not offhand, but I found an address book in my sister’s office.”

“Maybe you could text the street and number to me,” Alan said. “We’ll pay her a visit tomorrow.”

Clare pulled open the door and turned on the porch light. “I think I should go with you.”

“Sure,” Alan agreed readily. “We can figure out a time in the morning.”

On the porch, Sophie dropped the scarf to sniff a rag doll on the top step. “What’s that?” I asked. “It wasn’t there when we arrived.”

Clare picked it up, then immediately dropped it. “Ouch! Be careful, it’s sharp!”

Alan grabbed the doll with two fingers, holding it out of Sophie’s reach. He handed me the leash, and I used all my strength to hold her at bay.

Retrieving the forgotten scarf, I was able to lure her across the street, even as I called my goodnight to Clare. Sophie was still somewhat hyper, so we went from the front door to the back where I let her out to the yard.

She ran around in the dark clutching the scarf in her mouth like a flag-bearer at the Olympics. The sight made me laugh.

Alan returned a few minutes later with the doll that he laid far back on the kitchen counter. “Don’t touch it,” he warned. “It has sharp needles, like a voodoo doll.”

I peered closely to view a crudely-written note: Go back to Africa. I could only hope Clare didn’t see it.