Let There Be Suspects (10 page)

“That’s not a sin, Vel. Even for a pro. It was a good sauce.”

“How would you know? You’re a vegetarian. You didn’t eat any of it.”

I was caught. “Okay, I’m not such a purist that I didn’t dip a little bread in it.”

Vel’s dimples are deeper than mine.

The moment was destroyed by Sid slamming into the kitchen. “I’m going to become a nun.” She sat down at the table, then she stood up, then she sat down again. Finally, she put her head in her hands.

“You’re not Catholic,” Vel said.

“I could be!”

Vel and I looked at each other. Vel shrugged. We waited.

Sid straightened at last. “He’s leaving for Sag Harbor and taking the rental car. I told him I’m tired of watching him drool over Ginger.”

“Any chance he could take her along?” Vel asked.

Sometimes the dumbest thing turns out to be the right thing to say. I thought Sid was going to strangle Vel. Instead, she started to laugh.

We were all holding each other and laughing hysterically when Junie walked in.

“My three precious princesses,” she said. “What would I do without you?”

6

I woke up early, but not as early as Ed, who was already at the church rearranging the poinsettias or slipping candles into little paper holders for the service tonight. Of course that’s an exaggeration. He doesn’t really do these things himself. He goes to numerous committee meetings where the jobs are patiently discussed and assigned. Then he checks to be certain the jobs are done. Done well. Done on time. Done without resentment. I understood perfectly why he was gone before I’d even had coffee.

Nobody needed me this morning. I knew the girls planned to do some last-minute Christmas shopping with their grandmother today, and that Vel and Sid would probably sleep late. Ginger and Cliff wouldn’t come until after the evening service, when we have a simple meal and everyone opens one small gift. This takes the edge off the anticipation so the girls get a little sleep.

This would be our last glimpse of Ginger, since she and Cliff were leaving tomorrow morning for Michigan. I was counting down the minutes. I’d assigned Vel to buy Ginger a gift until she insisted she was going to buy her a basic cookbook. Now she was buying for Cliff, and I had to pick up something for Ginger on the way home.

I was so thrilled to have a job to go to. I got up and threw on jeans, T-shirt, a red flannel shirt, and my work boots. The flannel shirt and work boots are an affectation, but I feel like such a pro when I wear them. For Christmas I’m hoping for a tool belt.

I was out the door in fifteen minutes, and in five more, I pulled up to the Victorian. The sky was the dull gray of pewter, and the clouds hid all but the faintest trace of sun. I’d caught a weather forecast on the car radio, and there was a chance of snow tonight. We might have some flakes by the time the service began, but the majority of it would probably fall later in the evening when everyone was safe and snug at home. Christmas Eve is one of the few days every year when this forecast is greeted with enthusiasm. Mostly due to Bing Crosby.

Inside I turned up the thermostat and took measurements in the kitchen where a new counter would go in. Then I went back up to the bedroom where Lucy and I had scraped wallpaper yesterday. Last night Cliff had said he’d come by about nine thirty. By the time I heard a knock on the door I’d stripped off the flannel shirt and a few good patches of wallpaper. Cliff was standing on the porch with a bag of cinnamon rolls from the hotel restaurant.

“Well, will you look at this. I knew there was a good reason not to bother making breakfast.” I took the bag while he removed his coat. He was wearing a kale green shirt that made his complexion look sallow and unhealthy. The pocket sported three ballpoints and what looked like a protractor. The jeans were stiff and new and an inch too short.

“It’s a great old house,” he said. “And I like Emerald Springs. I always wanted to live in a small town.”

“Can’t inventors live wherever they want?”

“I worked for a corporation in Indianapolis. When I left and went out on my own, moving away seemed like more trouble than it was worth.”

“And Ginger likes it?”

“She’d be happier in a bigger city, but I need a lot of space for my workshop. She needs a big enough kitchen so she can concentrate on perfecting her recipes. That kind of real estate would be hard to afford in a city like New York or Chicago.”

I suspect that even in Indianapolis, real estate is pricey. These two must be doing very well indeed.

I walked him through the house, and Cliff flicked switches and asked questions. He was sorry he didn’t have more time in town since he saw potential for a switch in every room. He apologized that he had business calls scheduled for the afternoon. I was glad he only had a few hours to help.

He left for his car to get what he needed. We’d decided to put the first switch in the bedroom where I was working. I was scraping again when he joined me upstairs.

“How many inventions do you have to your credit?” I asked. “I can’t even imagine the process.”

“Some that never went anywhere. Three that matter, including this one.”

“Are they all home improvement gadgets?”

“The switches can be used anywhere a more complicated security system isn’t needed. So small businesses will benefit. My last invention was a different kind of valve to use on hot water heaters. It saves energy. It’s made a mark in the industry.”

“Sounds important.”

“Small ideas, big results. Kind of my motto.”

“It’s a good one.”

“Good, but not very showy. I’m not a showy guy, I guess. I’m still surprised somebody like me ended up with somebody like Ginger.”

When some people say this kind of thing, they’re looking for compliments. But I could tell that Cliff was truly amazed Ginger had settled on him. Frankly, it was a mystery to me, as well, but not for the reasons he thought. In my opinion Cliff was far too nice to catch her eye.

But maybe Cliff had been right last night. Maybe being with us brought out the worst in her and there was more to Ginger than I’d seen.

“Well, I think she’s lucky,” I said. “You seem like natural husband material.”

I caught his grin, and I was glad I’d stroked his ego a little more.

The grin died quickly. “I guess I am. I was married before.”

There is no good response to this. I used the standard. “Oh.”

“She died. I thought I’d never find anyone else I could love half as much, then Ginger came along.”

“I’m sorry, Cliff. That must have been hard.”

“Tell me more about your family.”

I did, and pretty soon we were laughing at stories about my daughters. Along the way Cliff confessed a desire to have children of his own. I thought the odds weren’t promising. Ginger was not mother material.

He disappeared into the kitchen for a while, then came back to poke his head in the bedroom. “Nothing left to do now without turning off your power,” Cliff said. “Can you see well enough without the lights?”

I was ready for a break anyway and told him so.

I was halfway down the stairs when Ed walked in the door.

“Hey, I know you,” I said. “Aren’t you the guy who moved to Emerald Springs for a quieter, easier life? The guy who thought he’d have all kinds of time to work on a book?”

“I’m between meetings. Want to take a walk?”

Me? Alone with my husband? It was too good to pass up. I told Cliff, who was absorbed in decoding our circuit breakers. He nodded on principle, but I doubt he heard a word.

I got my coat and linked my arm in Ed’s. With his blue watch cap pulled low over his ears and straggly beard he looked like a longshoreman. It was an interesting fantasy.

“Let’s get coffee,” he said.

A new place had just opened half a block from the Oval, and I’d been wanting to give it a try. We started in that direction. Give Me a Break is the Emerald Springs answer to Starbucks, lots of different blends of coffee, a skimpy display of baked goods, the eternally hopeful tip jar. I can tell they’re working on ambience but haven’t quite figured it out yet. The white walls and chrome chairs make the big room feel cold and empty, even though about half the tables were taken.

We found one in the corner, and Ed treated me to the coffee of the day, Jamaican Blue Mountain. I thought of Bix.

“You’re smiling,” Ed said, handing me coffee made just the way I like it.

“I wonder if this is where Bix hid out every day while he was here? I’m glad he’s not around to growl at our children anymore.”

“Another defeat for Sid.”

“She’s got to grow up and stop keeping score.”

We clinked coffee cups. Carefully. The coffee smelled too good to spill even a drop.

“So meetings went okay?” I asked.

His lips twisted into half a smile. “I had one I hadn’t counted on. Ida Bere tackled me today. It seems I’m contributing to a surge in the drug culture of Emerald Springs.”

“By inviting Dr. Schaefer to our open house?”

“Exactly.”

“What gives with that?” I settled back and sipped and did not ask if she’d mentioned the punch bowl.

“I told her Peter’s interested in joining the church. He’s been to our newcomer’s meetings. I explained that it made sense to invite him.”

I hadn’t known Peter Schaefer might want to join our congregation. “Ida strikes me as somebody who needs a cause to make her feel alive.”

“Maybe, but some of her concerns could be legitimate.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t stand at the door and bar entrance. Peter’s as welcome as anyone else. But I do have a few feelers out, just to see if there’s anything to what she says. Ida swears he’s giving out ridiculously large prescriptions for oxycodone, which patients are selling on the street. She called it hillbilly heroine.”

“Cute. And not a mountain in sight.”

“Most of what she told me sounds like rumor, but I’m checking it out.” He sat back in his chair. “It’s nice of you to let Cliff work on the house. You didn’t want to, did you?”

I smiled seductively. I had this little fantasy running through my head. Ed, the longshoreman, me the poor little stowaway on a Chinese freighter. Clearly we’d had company for too long.

“What’s he doing for you?” Ed asked.

I came back to earth in wintry Emerald Springs with my relatives strewn through every room. I told him Cliff’s plan. “The switches do everything except vacuum the floors, and if I mentioned that, he’d probably find a way. He swears they’re simple to use, and no one looking at them will know there’s anything special about them. Something about microscopic computer chips in the housing . . .”

“I’m sorry.” Ed understood.

“I limited him to two rooms. I’m hopeful.”

He glanced at his watch. “The ministers are meeting in a little while. One quick troubleshooter before the pageant tonight. I’ve got to get going.”

“First tell me who you’ve chosen.”

“Chosen?” He pretended not to understand.

“Yes, to put the baby in the manger. Ida Bere maybe?”

“I don’t think the baby would make a dent in Ida’s crusade. She’d probably drop it on its head in the manger and go find somebody else to complain to. No, I chose somebody who might really benefit from a little faith and hope.”

“And that person is?”

He gave me that smile I can never resist. “It’s a secret.”

“From me?”

“Most especially from you. I don’t want the world to know.”

“Oh, low blow!”

He leaned across the table and kissed me. Give Me a Break wasn’t the cargo hold of an Asian freighter, but it didn’t really matter.

Ed left for his meeting, and I went back to the house to check in with Cliff and lock up. It was time to shop a little and go home. Cliff was just cleaning up when I walked in.

“You’re done?” I was amazed.

“I told you it’s a very simple process. Unfortunately I only brought the prototype with me. I’m going to install the rest of them in my grandmother’s house in Michigan, and she only needs the motion detector feature. I don’t want her crossing rooms to turn on lights in the dark. Anyway, I’ve programmed yours the same way, to go on when somebody walks in the room and off when they leave. If we were doing more switches I’d hook them into a simple alarm—”

“Not necessary,” I said quickly.

“Anyway, these are the simplest version. But this is all I had with me.”

I was more grateful than he could imagine. And my enthusiasm bubbled over. “Well, thanks,” I said. “You’ve saved me so much work, Cliff. And thanks again for fixing Ed’s train set.”

I guess I laid it on too thick, because his face lit up. “After you left I realized that I’ll have some time late this afternoon and evening. I have more switches than I need for my grandmother, I could put in more.”

“Oh, no, you don’t want to—”

“It’s no trouble. They went in without a hitch. I’ll put in a couple more before we meet back at your house for dinner. I’ll start as soon as my phone calls are finished.”

I was caught. “Oh. Great.” He stood there waiting, and I realized he needed a key. I fished an extra out of my pocket. I’d lucked out and discovered a hardware store that could make copies of our unique original.

We parted outside. He seemed happy. I was resigned. Halfway to my van I realized I’d left my flannel shirt upstairs with the measurements in the pocket. I went back inside and up the stairs. Sure enough, the moment I walked into the room the lights came on. Considering my usual luck, I was surprised and encouraged. I grabbed the shirt and left, but the lights stayed on. I waited a moment in the hall, hoping this was just due to some kind of delay, but nothing happened. Resigned, I went inside and taking the old fashioned approach flipped the switch. The lights went off.

I scooted out the door, but before both feet were over the threshhold, the lights came on again.