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Authors: Sofie Kelly

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BOOK: Sleight of Paw
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I picked up a mug, added sugar and reached for the stainless-steel coffee carafe.
Mary noticed me then. “I’ll get that for you,” she said, taking the cup from my hand. “Would you like regular, decaf or chocolate hazelnut?”
I wasn’t much of a fan of flavored coffee, but maybe just this once.
“Chocolate hazelnut,” I said. “Please.”
Rebecca lightly touched my arm. “Kathleen, is Justin Anders the young man Ruby’s been seeing?”
“Yes, he is,” I said, taking my cup back from Mary. “Why?”
“You haven’t heard?” Mary asked. “Turns out it wasn’t a rumor after all.”
“What?” I asked, wondering what new piece of town news they had.
Mary shrugged. “Agatha left Ruby’s boyfriend half a million dollars.”
11
I
glanced from Rebecca, who looked apologetic, to Mary, who could be described only as smug. I set the coffee on the edge of the table. I was afraid I was going to drop it.
“Agatha left money to Ruby’s boyfriend?”
“Yes.” Mary grabbed the carafe to pour a cup of coffee for one of the servers.
I was dumbfounded. Then I thought about the rumor going around that Roma was seeing an NHL hockey player ten years her junior. “You certain?” I asked. “I didn’t realize he even knew her.”
Mary handed the cup over to the young server. “Yes, I am.”
Rebecca brushed the front of her apron. “The information came from Bridget,” she said.
I had forgotten that Mary’s daughter, Bridget, was the publisher of the
Mayville Heights Chronicle.
“But half a million dollars? Where would Agatha get half a million dollars?” I remembered the tiny, spare house.
“Agatha was very frugal,” Mary said, smiling at another server on her way to the kitchen.
“What about her son? Why would she leave money to someone she didn’t know instead of him?”
Mary shrugged. “All I know is some lawyer from Red Wing did a new will for Agatha. She signed it the day before she died.”
I shook my head slowly. “That doesn’t make any sense. Peter Lundgren was Agatha’s lawyer.”
“Apparently not anymore.” Mary swept a few crumbs off the table.
It couldn’t be true. But it was going to hurt Ruby. “This is getting messy,” I said to Rebecca.
She patted my arm. “I know.”
I picked up my coffee and wound my way back to the table. Maggie glanced over at me as she scraped the last few baked beans from her plate. Something in my face made her take a second look. “What is it?” she asked.
Roma turned to look at me, as well. I pointed toward the tea table.
“According to Rebecca and Mary, Agatha left half a million dollars to Justin.”
“Of course she did,” Roma said. “And I’m dating Eddie Sweeney.” She shot a quick look at Maggie, who blushed just a little. “First of all, Agatha didn’t have half a million dollars. She had a teacher’s pension and from her day that wasn’t a lot of money. And second, if she did have a little money she wouldn’t leave it to someone she hardly knew.”
“It doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Maggie agreed.
“The story came from Bridget.”
Roma waved her hand like she was chasing away a bug. “Well, Bridget got it wrong or Mary did. Agatha didn’t have that much money. She didn’t have any money.” She pushed her plate away. “It’s just a rumor and it’s wrong.”
“It has to be,” Maggie said. “You saw her. Did Agatha look like someone who had a lot of money?”
Actually she had looked like someone who didn’t spend a lot of money. She wasn’t buying clothes or things for her house. Maybe she’d amassed a small fortune and no one knew about it. Luckily I didn’t have to answer because the Kings were back to collect our plates and deliver slices of apple pie.
I picked up my fork. The pie was better than promised. There was a hint of tartness to the apples, and I could taste the cinnamon and nutmeg. I actually made little groaning sounds as I took a second bite.
Maggie grinned at me over her plate. “I told you it was good,” she said.
I licked apple off the back of my fork. “Good?” I said. “I think I know how Owen feels about catnip.” I’d had Mary’s pie before, but this was warm, with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on top. It was a party in my mouth.
We ate without talking, the pie was that good. I thought about swiping my finger over the plate to catch the last flakes of pastry, but those kind of manners belonged at the home, where only Owen and Hercules could see me. I pushed back my chair so I could stretch my legs.
“I ate too much,” Maggie said, patting her midsection.
“Me, too.” Roma pulled at the front of her sweater.
“Want to walk over to the Winterfest site and take a look at things?” Maggie asked.
“I can’t,” Roma said, getting to her feet. “I’m on the cleanup crew.”
“Kath?” Maggie looked at me.
“Sure,” I said. I was kind of curious to see the sliding hill, the dogsled track and the outdoor rink.
Maggie looked over her shoulder at the back wall. There were dozens of people checking out Eddie and the various photo collages. “Roma just wants to ditch us so she can spend some time with Eddie,” she stagewhispered.
Roma rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen.
We put on our coats, tugged on hats and mittens and headed for the door. There were still people arriving. “You weren’t kidding when you said the whole town comes to this thing,” I said.
“It’s a social event of the season,” Maggie said as we made our way down the stairs. “Heck, it’s the social event of the
year
, not to mention Mary makes the best freaking pie in the universe.” She stopped on the last step to wind her scarf around her neck. “There should be a community supper as part of the library centennial,” she said.
“You know, that’s a good idea,” I said. “I’ll mention it to Everett and Rebecca.”
We pushed our way out into the cold night air and I was glad to be outside. It had been getting warm and stuffy in the community center. The parking lot was full of cars and trucks and they were also parked down both sides of the street.
We started toward the marina, where all the outdoor Winterfest activities were taking place.
“Are you really going to give Eddie to Roma when Winterfest is over?” I asked.
Maggie laughed. “I don’t know. It would be kind of funny to stick him in the waiting room at the clinic for a few days and see what kind of rumors that starts.”
I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I can’t believe people think she’s dating the real Eddie Sweeney, just because she drove around with a mannequin in the front seat of her SUV.”
“So, how do you think the rumors that Agatha left Justin a bunch of money got started?” Maggie asked. She looked both ways for cars and pulled me across the street.
I hesitated. Maggie leaned in front of me. “You don’t think it’s true, do you?”
“I think it could be, at least partly.”
“All right,” Maggie began, lowering her voice because of all the people around now. “Where did Agatha get the money? And why did she leave it to Justin?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know where she got the money. Maybe she saved it. She didn’t seem to be spending much. Maybe she bought Microsoft or Dell stock back in the day.” I could hear voices ahead of me and laughter and music.
“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, she had the money.” Maggie kicked a chunk of frozen snow down the sidewalk. “Why leave it to Justin?”
I gave her the Mr. Spock eyebrow.
“Because of Ruby.” Maggie made a face, as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Exactly.”
She kicked the chunk of snow again. It collided with a streetlamp and smashed into small bits of snow and ice. “People are going to talk.”
“I know,” I said. “And it’s going to hurt Ruby.”
“You think that’s why she’s not here tonight?”
“Maybe.” We were surrounded by people all heading in the same direction. “Where’s everyone coming from?” I asked.
“First you eat, then you come down here and slide until your stomach hurts,” Maggie said. “It’s a Winterfest tradition.”
As we came around a curve in the road by the marina I saw the venue for the first time. The rink was close to the marina itself. There was a fire going in the outdoor pit between the building and the ice. Beyond that I could see the dogsled track. But what dominated the space was the hill.
It was man-made, or, to be more exact, machine-made. There were eight runs: two for the little ones and six for the adults and teenagers. Walk up the ramps on either side, get in line, grab a sled—which looked like a potato sack and probably was—and then slide like stink to the bottom and crash into the bales of hay.
Maggie grinned at me, eyes sparkling.
“No,” I said.
“Oh, come on. One time.”
I watched Kate, my co-op student, hit a bump and go airborne for a minute. “You want to watch pie come out my nose?” I said.
She pretended to think about that for a minute.
“You can go without me.” I said. “I’ll stand here and cheer for you.”
Maggie made a show of checking her watch. “Oh, darn,” she said. “We have to go through or we’re going to miss the start of the
Gotta Dance
reunion special.” She held up one hand. “Otherwise . . .”
“Well, of course we wouldn’t want to miss Matt Lauer demonstrate that it is possible for human beings have two left feet,” I said.
“Matt does not have two left feet. He’s a fantastic dancer. He won—”
“—the coveted crystal trophy,” I finished for her. I’d never quite gotten Maggie’s love for the
Today
show host.
“You’re just jealous because that piece of beefcake in a loincloth lost.”
I blew a raspberry at her. The peace of beefcake she was mocking was Kevin Sorbo, Hercules from the cheesy syndicated series of the same name and the source of my Hercules’ name. Not that I admitted it to anyone.
“Where did you park?” I asked as we made our way back through the crowd.
“I’m about half a block up the hill,” she said. We dashed across the street and walked back to her little bug.
“You still thinking about buying a car?” Maggie asked as she started the car and cranked up the heat.
“Thinking about it is all I’ve done.”
“You need a truck. Something like Ruby’s. Well, maybe less funky.”
I thought about Harry’s truck, heat blasting from the vents. “Maybe a truck would be a good idea.”
“I can just picture Owen and Hercules riding shotgun,” Maggie laughed.
Owen and Hercules were waiting in the kitchen when Maggie and I walked in.
“Hey, guys,” she said as she pulled off her coat. Hercules watched her, hoping, I guessed, that she’d brought them some kind of treat. Owen walked around behind her, more like a puppy than a cat. I put the kettle on to make tea for Maggie. “Want a date square?” I asked.
“I could eat one,” she said. Maggie ate like a lumberjack and was built like a runway model. “I’ll put the TV on.” She headed for the living room.
Hercules padded over to the counter and looked at me. I slipped him a couple of cheese-and-sardine crackers. “Don’t tell your brother,” I whispered.
I put the date squares on a plate with a few chunks of mozzarella, which I knew Maggie would sneak to the cats when they all figured I wasn’t looking. When the water boiled I made tea, put everything on a tray with a couple of napkins and headed for the living room.
Maggie was on the sofa, feet propped on my leather footstool. Owen was on one side, giving Maggie adoring looks, and Hercules was on the other side, doing his
no one ever feeds me
look. The theme song for
Gotta Dance
was just beginning. I curled into the opposite end of the sofa, setting the tray on the cushion between Maggie and me.
She leaned forward and pointed at the TV. “See?” she said to Owen. “That’s Kevin Sorbo. Boo!”
The cat would have booed if he’d been able to.
Maggie gestured to the screen again. “Remember? That’s Matt Lauer. Yay!”
“Meow!” Owen said with enthusiasm.
Maggie laughed.
“Sold out for mozzarella,” I said. Owen was busy eating the bit of cheese that Maggie had just snuck to him.
I settled back against the cushions to watch the show and I couldn’t help thinking how much happier my house seemed than Agatha’s. Okay, so there was cat hair on the footstool and some part of a catnip chicken by the stairs. But it felt a lot more welcoming than Agatha’s lonely place.
Maggie was leaning forward again, forearms on her knees, discussing the various dancing couples with Owen, while Hercules ate the piece of cheese Maggie had slipped to him.
Thinking about Agatha made me wonder if what Rebecca and Mary had told me could be true. Did Agatha have all that money and had she left it to Justin?
Maggie left when the show ended. We made plans to check out the Winterfest activities Saturday night. Yawning, I put the dishes in the sink. “I’m too tired to tell you everything,” I said to Hercules and Owen. “Remind me in the morning.”
Owen woke me in the morning by breathing his cheesy, bad breath in my face. Over oatmeal and bananas for me, plus two cups of coffee, and cat food and water for the cats, I told them about the visit to Agatha’s house and the rumors about the money. They didn’t have any insights, either.
The library was open only until one o’clock because of Winterfest, but it was a busy morning. I stopped for groceries before heading home, slogging up the hill with a heavy canvas bag in each hand. I decided maybe I could create a workout DVD: the Grocery Bag Workout.
I spent the afternoon cleaning my little house and doing laundry, with Hercules for company. Owen appeared only when the new batch of kitty treats came out of the oven.
Maggie pulled into the driveway at about seven o’clock. She was wearing heavy boots and cherry-colored earmuffs over her mohair hat. It made her look like a fuzzy, red-eared teddy bear.
BOOK: Sleight of Paw
3.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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