Flipped Out (14 page)

When Kate came back downstairs, she was minus the letter but followed by Derek.

“Ready to go, Avery?” he wanted to know.

“Sure,” I said, without pointing out that he was the one who had wanted to hang back to talk to Wayne. “We’ll see you later, guys. Let me know if anything happens.”

Kate said she would, and Derek and I headed back out into the heat of the day. He was acting sort of weird, I thought—alternately brusque and quiet—and it made me uneasy. In the year I’d known him, I’d learned that he’s usually even-keeled, hardly ever moody. The fact that he was now was worrisome. Although between Tony’s death and the fact that we were, once again, involved on the periphery of a murder investigation and had to postpone our project, he had reason to be, I suppose. This seemed to be more than that, though, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

By this time it was close to lunch, and in an effort to cheer him up, I suggested we head downtown to the little hole-in-the-wall deli that has the best lobster rolls in down east Maine. Derek does get cranky when he doesn’t eat regularly, and I thought that might be part of the problem. There wasn’t anything I could do about the dead body or the fact that we couldn’t get into our house to work, but I could make sure he got fed, and maybe I could also find something to do that would keep his hands busy for the next few hours, at least.

“They haven’t told us we have to stop work yet,” I said when we were seated on orange plastic chairs at one of the rickety tables in the deli. “I know we can’t go inside the house and mess up Brandon’s crime scene, but maybe he wouldn’t mind if we worked outside in the yard. We could drive out to the nursery and load up the back of the truck with plants and flowers, and ask Cora and Beatrice to help us plant them.”

Derek took a pensive bite of lobster roll. “I don’t know, Tink. I mean, Tony’s dead. We can’t just carry on like nothing’s happened.”

“Of course not. But he wanted us to renovate the house. He signed a contract, both with us and with the television company. And Melissa is all set to put the house on the market next week. I don’t think he’d change his mind just because he’s dead. Do you?”

“Not sure I knew him well enough to determine that,” Derek said. “At this point I guess it would depend on what his heir wanted.”

“Who’s that?”

“No idea. There’s no family that I know of. Might be Melissa.”

If so, at least I was sure we’d get the go-ahead to continue. And get reimbursed for the money we’d spend so far, too.

“Well, while we wait to find out, do you think we could start on the landscaping? I know it isn’t what we planned to do today,” I added, since we’d worked out a schedule for what needed to be done by the hour, if not the minute, “but when people die, the rest of us have to be a little flexible. And if we do end up going forward with the renovations, I’d hate to lose the whole day.”

Derek nodded and swallowed before he said, “We were planning to do the landscaping on . . . what . . . Thursday?”

“While we waited for the paint and the second coat of polyurethane to dry. We were going to paint all day Tuesday and Wednesday, with Kate and Shannon and Josh and anyone else who were willing to lend a hand, and then you were going to do the first coat of poly on Wednesday night before we left. When we got to the house on Thursday morning, you were going to do the second coat, and then we were going to work outside all day on Thursday to let it dry. And then finish up all the piddly details on Friday.”

Derek nodded. “You keep saying Wednesday, and on Wednesday we were going to do this, that, and the other, but I’m not sure you realize that Wednesday’s tomorrow.”

I choked on the bite of lobster roll I’d just taken. “It is? Oh, my God. Maybe it would be better if we just gave up. There’s no way we can get everything done in time!”

For a few hours, I’d actually managed to forget that we had a house to flip in three and a half days, but now the thought was back and with a vengeance.

“I think we can,” Derek said, “but we have to work smarter. And you’re right, we can’t sit around today and do nothing, even if we can’t get into the house. When we leave here, we’ll stop by the hardware store and pick up a power washer. I’ll take that over to the house and get started on the roof. Meanwhile, you take Cora and go to the nursery and start picking out flowers. Cora’ll tell you what to buy. By the time you get back, I’ll be finished with the power washing, and the ground will be nice and wet and easy to dig. Then we’ll begin planting.”

He started taking bigger bites of his lobster roll now that he had a plan and a purpose again. “Hurry up, OK? We don’t have any time to waste.”

I resisted the temptation to salute and just nodded. My mouth was too full to speak.

Thirty minutes later, I was on my way to the Waterfield Nursery with Cora. We’d called Wayne, who had told us that he had no idea whether we’d be able to finish the renovations or not—that would be up to Tony’s heir—but that if we wanted to plant flowers today, he wasn’t going to stop us. Brandon had already gone over the porch and yard for clues, and we were welcome to go ahead, as long as we realized we might be doing it all for nothing. Derek had rented his power washer, and when I left, he was walking around on the roof of the cottage letting it rip. I’d gotten somewhat inured to this stunt by now, having watched him wander around the roof of the two-and-a-half story Colonial on Rowanberry Island for a few days this spring. This small cottage was nothing in comparison. He’d probably break a few bones if he fell off, but chances were he wouldn’t break his neck.

So I left him there and went to pick up Cora. And now the two of us were headed north out of town, to the nursery. Beatrice had been in the middle of something when I called, so she’d finish what she was doing first before meeting us at the house, and then all four of us would get busy planting.

Cora helped me choose flowers and shrubs that would look good in the yard on Cabot Street, and then we loaded the pickup bed full and headed back. Derek had finished his power washing by the time we got there, and Beatrice was waiting, and then all four of us got down on our hands and knees and got busy digging holes and planting. We kept at it until every single flower or shrub was in the ground and the sun was thinking of sliding behind the horizon.

The conversation while we worked turned to Tony and the murder right off the bat, of course, with Beatrice wanting to know what had happened and me doing my best to answer her questions. Like me, her first thought had been the fact that Melissa was Tony’s fiancée, and as such, she was the logical suspect. Eventually, though, we all agreed that she probably really hadn’t killed Tony. As Derek had once said, when I’d tried to pin another murder—or maybe it was a kidnapping—on Melissa: She wasn’t the type to risk doing anything truly illegal. Too fond of her skin to take the chance of anything happening to it.

“She does have a short fuse,” Cora said.

“There’s a big difference between breaking china and stabbing someone with a screwdriver,” Derek answered, not even looking up from the flowerbed he was working on.

No arguing with that. And we couldn’t anyway, because just then Donna from across the street showed up to say hello and find out about what had been going on today.

“Oh, wow,” she said when we explained that Tony was dead, “who’d do something like that?”

“We thought maybe teenagers. You know, for the tools. They’re missing.”

“Teenagers?” She glanced across the street, involuntarily. “You’re not accusing
my
teenagers, are you? Because they wouldn’t do that.”

Cora hastened to reassure her. “Of course not. I’m sure your kids are wonderful. How many do you have?”

Donna said she had two, both boys. Johnny was fourteen and Matthew sixteen. “But they’re not murderers. And they wouldn’t steal anything. When did you say he was killed?”

We looked at each other. “I have no idea, really,” I said. “I know that Nina said she came back from dinner around ten thirty. If Tony came straight here from the Waterfield Inn, I guess it couldn’t have been too long after that.”

“But you don’t know that he came straight here,” Derek pointed out. “He could have gone somewhere else first.”

I nodded. Like Melissa’s loft to share that bottle of wine with her. Although if he’d been drinking wine with his fiancée, in her apartment, why hadn’t he just spent the night there? Why come here at all?

“You didn’t happen to look out the window last night and see anything, did you, Donna? Like when Tony’s car arrived?”

But Donna shook her head. She was a tall, angular woman with short, brown hair, and it flapped around her ears when she moved her head. “We stayed in the backyard last night. On the deck. The weather was nice, and the boys each had a couple of friends over, so there were eight or ten of us altogether.”

“Any chance anyone else might have seen anything? When did the kids who were visiting go home?”

It had been after eleven, Donna admitted. With the sun still in the sky well into the evening, and the weather nice and warm, and no school in the morning so everyone could sleep in, there hadn’t seemed any rush in getting the other kids home. “They left together. Everyone lives within a couple of blocks, anyway. Matthew walked with them. His girlfriend was there, and he wanted to make sure she got home all right. Waterfield’s a safe town, but then once in a while something like this happens.” She shook her head.

“The police will probably want to talk to your family,” I said. “Especially Matthew, if he was out here on the street late.”

Donna looked a little alarmed, and I added, quickly, “Just in case he might have noticed someone. Or something. Or at least whether Tony’s car was here. You never know what might be helpful.”

“Right,” Donna said, but she still looked a little apprehensive when she excused herself to hustle back across the street.

By tacit understanding, we all waited to speak until she was back inside her own garden gate. Then Derek opened his mouth. “So there really was a group of teenagers wandering around last night.”

“Fourteen- to sixteen-year-olds. I don’t think that’s what Wayne had in mind, do you? Would they even know what a pawnshop is? Or realize that tools can be worth money?”

“They’re not stupid,” Derek said. “And these are small-town kids. Not like the ones you grew up with down there in Noo Yawk.” He pronounced the two syllables in the most obnoxious drawl he could manage. “They’ll know that tools are worth money. Kids from around here are used to tools.”

“Fine. Although Donna seems like a nice lady. I doubt she’d have brought up hoodlums. And if they’re the kind of kids who hang out in their parents’ backyard on a summer night, they can’t be that bad. They or their friends.”

Derek shrugged. “We’ll find out. I’m gonna call Wayne, let him know.” He wiped his hand against his jeans before digging in his pocket for his phone. Cora straightened and arched her back.

“I think I’m about done in for the day. What about you, Bea?”

“I could leave,” Beatrice said, rotating her head to work out the kinks. She’s as tall and rail-thin as her mother is short and plump, but they have the same soft, brown hair—Cora’s is short, Beatrice’s long and straight—and the same blue eyes. “I’ll drive you home.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Cora turned to me. “You and Derek are welcome to come over for supper later, Avery. I’m sure you’ll want to clean up first. And it’ll be basic; I won’t have much time to put anything fancy together.”

“That’s all right,” I answered. “We’d be happy . . . No?”

Derek shook his head, still on the phone with Wayne. I turned back to Cora, apologetically. “Guess not. Something must be going on.”

“Some other time,” Cora said easily. “You know you’re always welcome. C’mon, Beatrice.”

The two of them headed toward the gate and the car parked beyond. I waited for Derek to get off the phone. “What’s up?”

“Wayne’s gonna look into Donna’s kids. He wants us to have dinner at Guido’s Pizzeria.”

I blinked. “Is he meeting us there?”

Derek shook his head. “Josh is taking Fae Cameron there. And now Adam has asked Shannon to go, too. Wayne wants someone there to keep an eye on things.”

He must not trust Adam. Or maybe he was afraid Adam and Josh would come to blows over one of the girls. I shook my head, smiling. “I should have known Shannon would figure out a way to get there.”

“She might not care,” Derek said.

“You didn’t see her this morning. She looked upset. I guess she finally realized that Josh isn’t gonna wait for her forever. Might be just what she needs to get her act together.”

“But if he’s interested in Fae . . .”

“Fae lives in California. She’ll be leaving in a few days. Even if he’s interested now, it’ll end soon enough.” And then he’d go back to pining for Shannon. Maybe.

“I guess we’ll see tonight,” Derek said.