Chapter 16

When I finally got home, there was a small package inside a supermarket bag tucked in the back screen door. It was beautifully wrapped in lavender flowered paper with a purple bow, and I knew what it was. Sure enough, it was the tape of Peter’s performance, with a hand-painted label entitled Peter Mellon Remembers Judy and a photo of Peter in costume. I was delighted, and, when I opened the little card that accompanied it, touched. “Peter and Wolf will remember Alex with fondness and gratitude.”

I reminded myself not to get too sentimental. Murderers, I had learned the hard way, did not always have little horns and cloven hooves to make the I.D. easier.

Maybe I’d run the tape tonight. Right now I had to go through a pile of mail so high it was about to spill off the desk, do a little bookkeeping and that sort of fun activity—almost, but not quite, as bad as housekeeping. I turned on MSNBC, more for background noise than any real hope of interesting news at this time of day.

I had made some inroads into the paperwork when a commercial penetrated my consciousness—some bank touting its “friendly” ATM service. How could an ATM be friendly, I wondered. Then I jumped. Friendly or not, I’d better get to the one at the bank. I was very nearly out of cash. It was also a good excuse to quit what I was doing. I took the car. I’d had enough walking pursuing the damn dog around miles of trail this morning. When I got to the bank parking lot, I saw that the ATM had a line—either it had eaten someone’s card again or it was into its sulky mode, repeatedly flashing, “That is not a valid command.” I went inside.

After I completed my brief business with a teller and turned to leave, I heard Mr. Ellis’s fruity voice. “Alexandra, my dear, wait up and meet Cynthia Hart, our new Financial Services Manager.”

I put on my official welcoming smile and turned to meet again the blonde, serious young woman I had last seen at Kudlow Securities in Providence. Instead, I faced a petite young woman with crisp dark curls and a wide mobile mouth beneath a nose that just missed being Roman, and brown eyes that were right up there with Fargo’s for warmth and expression. My smile became quite genuine, as I realized that whomever I had teased in Kudlow’s hallway, it had not been Cynthia Hart!

“Ms. Hart, ” Ellis continued, “meet Alexandra Peres, not only a valued client of our bank, but also an outstanding nature photographer, whose work we plan to exhibit in a few months. My dear”—he shook her hand warmly in both of his—“I have some calls backed up. If you will forgive me, I will say goodbye here, and I’ll see you a week from Monday.”

Cynthia and I stood, smiling at each other, but seemingly with nothing to say. Finally, I indicated the side door. “Are you parked out here? ” She nodded, so I said, “Okay, I’ll walk you out.”

We got to my car first and Fargo stuck his head out the window. Cynthia reached out and began gently to scratch his cheek. His neck stretched and his nose went up in ecstasy. “Oh, yes, lovely boy, that’s a great spot, isn’t it? ” she asked.

“Fargo, meet Cynthia.”

“Oh, call me Cindy, please. Cynthia makes me think I’m back in school.”

“Ah, then I can revert to Alex. Thank God we’ve cleared that hurdle. May I buy you a drink or coffee? ”

“I’d love it. But right now, I’m on sort of a tight timetable, and Mr. Ellis is... well.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m in kind of a bind, ” she said. “Perhaps you could help. I was hoping that today or certainly by tomorrow, I might locate—I guess an apartment, although I’d dearly love a cottage if it’s not too expensive. I need a year-round rental. Am I in trouble? What would you say is my best bet? The paper? A realtor? ” She ran out of breath.

I leaned against the fender, trying to come up with a helpful idea—and suddenly I wanted to be very helpful, indeed. “Yearround rentals are not always easy. You can make too much money just renting your property in the summer. However, I have a thought. My aunt has a cottage on her property. She said something recently about being sick of summer people. She’s had a couple of bad experiences lately.”

Fargo looked moonstruck. I tried not to. “Anyway, I know the cottage is in good repair. It has a good-sized living room, a kitchen, bedroom and another little room for a tiny bedroom or an office or whatever and—of course, a bathroom. Would that suit? ”

“It sounds perfect. I wonder what she’s asking? ” By now Fargo had both front paws on the windowsill and was giving her face the occasional lap. How come the dog got all the perks?

“I don’t even know if she’s renting. But we could go ask. Do you want to leave your car here? ”

“Oh, I’d be a little uneasy. Could I just follow you? ”

She could and did and fortunately Aunt Mae was at home. I introduced them, explained who Cindy was, and took Fargo out in the yard to give them some privacy. Shortly, they walked across the yard from Aunt Mae’s house, past her garage/herb shop and out to the cottage. About fifteen minutes later they came back to the house, both smiling broadly and Aunt Mae with folded check in hand.

As they neared me, Cindy grinned. “I believe you’ve met my landlady? ”

“Frequently, ” I laughed. “Say, that’s great! I’m sure you’ll both be happy. Congratulations.”

“Thank you so much for thinking of me, dear, ” Aunt Mae put in.

“A double-edged sword, favorite aunt. I don’t want to see you again with a bunch of losers like you had last summer. Anyway, Cindy, are you going back tonight or staying over? ” Was I perhaps formulating a plan? Cassie’s advice was pounding in my head, and I felt that the curse was fading fast.

“Oh, going back, definitely. I’ve got a million things to do. I’m pretty well packed, I’ve been living out of boxes forever. And I’ve got everything ready to turn over to my replacement at Kudlow, but still...” She gave an embarrassed little moue. “Do you get the idea that I was really counting on this job? ”

“Nothing wrong with being prepared, ” Aunt Mae murmured.

“Right, ” Cindy agreed. “But I’ll still have quite a push to move down here by Wednesday or Thursday, and I really want to try, because I would like a few days to settle in before I start at Fishermen’s a week from Monday.” She turned and gave the cottage a little smile.

I was stunned. “How can you do that? Leave your job, get out of your apartment and get moved down here in five, six days? ”

“Well, the people at Kudlow have known for some time I was looking, and my assistant will be taking over my job there. She’s very sharp and up to speed. I told my landlord if I left without notice he could have the security. He’s delirious. He’ll rent that apartment the day after I leave. So there we are.”

“Cindy, I hate to sound negative, but I really doubt you can line up a mover so quickly. They’re usually booked weeks in advance.” I spread my hands apart.

“Indeed they are. However, if you’re the baby sister of the owners, they tend to make allowances.”

Aunt Mae favored me with a wry smile. “It would seem, Alexandra, that Cindy has things well organized. Perhaps you should simply, as the children say, butt out.”

I glared at her, feeling rather foolish. “Well, yeah. Okay. Cindy, that leaves us with time for an early dinner. Keep up your strength for the drive back.”

“Now that sounds good.” She swung her purse over her shoulder, as if ready to march. “Somehow I missed lunch, and I’m starved. A real dinner sounds much better than a greasy burger all by myself somewhere en route. We’ll go dutch of course.”

“We’ll go my treat. You’ve contributed enough to our family coffers for one day. Aunt Mae, is it okay if we leave Fargo and Cindy’s car here? ” I was edging into my smooth, suave Cary Grant role.

“Of course. Come on, sweet doggie, I’ll give you a drink and a biscuit.”

Cindy and I went over to the Sea Bounty. It was one of the better restaurants still open. We had no trouble getting a table so early. It could hardly be called the dinner hour. The waiter asked what we’d like to drink.

Cindy answered immediately. “I’ll skip the drink, thank you, and have a glass of wine with dinner. I’ve got a drive ahead of me.”

“Then I’ll wait, too. Just bring a wine list along with the menus, please.”

We both ordered clams casino to start. Cindy chose crab cakes with a yogurt and diced cucumber and dill sauce, plus saffron rice and a Caesar salad for an entree. I settled for my favorite, broiled sea scallops with curly fries, and sliced tomatoes and cucumbers with fresh basil and olive oil. I looked knowingly at the wine list and—blindly—picked a California Chardonnay I hoped would not disgrace me. Frankly, I like a nice claret with most any food, and know about as much about wines as I do the quantum theory. But nowadays one feels one should be an expert, so I do my best at least to act the part.

The waiter brought the wine and I went into my little charade. I pinched the cork for dampness—I knew not to sniff it. I rolled a bit of wine around in my mouth, swallowed and smacked my lips. “Yes, quite good, really. Elegance well offset by a touch of peasantry. Not overbearing, but a solid, reliable little wine.”

The waiter’s eyebrows made little half-moons above his eyes, and Cindy looked at me with polite interest. “Could I try a taste, too? ”

The waiter pursed his lips and complied. She sniffed the glass, took a sip, swallowed and clicked her tongue several times. “Ah, from one of the less rainy years, I’d say. It has that slight astringent taste, doesn’t it? But no bitterness, just a firm statement of presence. Well done, don’t you think? ” She looked at me straight-faced, and I had the feeling my jaw had dropped. The waiter had poured and left—either terribly impressed or resigned to dealing with lunatics.

I looked at Cindy closely. Her expression was bland but her eyes were dancing. “You rat! ” I exclaimed. “You saw right through me, didn’t you? My great secret is no more. You realize I’ll have to shoot you after dinner? My reputation in this town is finished.”

She gave a full-throated laugh. “Then you can’t have much of a reputation! Sorry, I just couldn’t resist. You were so serious. But I had seen you do just what I do. You checked the cheapest and the most expensive, went about halfway between, crossed your fingers and ordered. My knowledge of wines is bounded by red and white. How about you? ”

“Mainly I just settle for claret, ” I answered glumly.

“Good, we’ll stick with that in future. Much less effort.” I could no more not have smiled back than I could have quit breathing. And I liked that remark about the future.

Dinner was good. We enjoyed the food and each other. I managed to regain a little ground when Cindy remarked on what a sweet dog Fargo seemed.

“Strange, ” I answered, “I had you for more of a cat person, maybe wounded cats or even a baby goose.”

She peered at me sharply but made no comment.

“In fact, ” I continued, “I visualize you as a sort of tree-hugger at heart. I can just see you tied to a lovely old tree, daring the authorities to cut it down.”

“Okay. How do you know all this? This can no way be considered coincidence. Do you know one of my brothers or something? ”

I decided the joke had gone far enough. “No. In point of fact, I’m a private investigator. Sometimes I do a little rundown on people for possible employers. Several people, including you, were on Ellis’s short list for the job at the bank. He wanted a background check that covered more than just your resumé, so I took a little swing around three states the beginning of the week and gave him a report on the people he was interested in. Obviously, you were the front runner.”

“So now you know all my secrets.” She smiled but didn’t sound entirely happy. “Did you tell Mr. Ellis about the cat? ”

“All I knew of it. What really happened? ”

She gave a rueful grin. “There I was, minding my own business, driving home, when the car in front of me clipped a little half-grown cat. Either unaware or uncaring, the driver didn’t stop. Well, of course I did, I put the poor dazed thing in the car and hied off toward a veterinary clinic about a mile up the road.”

I poured us both a small dividend of wine. “And at what speed were you traveling, ma’am? ”

“At a damn good speed, thank you, and I ran a yellow light to boot. Next thing I know, red lights were flashing behind me and a cop pulled me over. When he walked up to my window I told him I was taking an injured animal to the vet’s, that as soon as I got care for the cat, I’d be happy to speak with him. I figured there was no time to lose and away I went. He just stood in the road looking after me. As the vet was placing the cat on the examining table, the cop flew in—super pissed—and wrote me up for everything but kidnapping the cat, probably only because he didn’t think of it.”

I was leaning back in my chair, laughing aloud by now. I wiped my eyes with my napkin. “So you had to go to court? ”

“Oh, indeed. My father wanted to send a lawyer with me, but I figured the truth ought to do it. I admitted running the light and speeding and said I would pay any necessary fines. I insisted I was not driving recklessly and certainly did not endanger the officer’s life—I never told him to stand in the middle of the road like a traffic cone. I definitely had not resisted arrest—I told him exactly where I was going and why. And I had not left the scene of an accident because it wasn’t my accident in the first place. And the defense rested.”

I shook my head in admiration. “You may be in the wrong business, ” I suggested. “You’d make a great lawyer.”

“Could be, ” she agreed. “At any rate the judge dropped the charges since I was ‘on an errand of mercy where timeliness was of great importance.’ I was feeling pretty good, but then he lectured me in this superior, drippy voice. ‘In the future, if something like this should happen, Ms. Hart, please try to exercise restraint. After all, in your zeal to assist an animal, you could have injured a person, and I’m sure you realize a person is more important than a cat, do you not? ’”

“Condescending old fuddle, wasn’t he? ” I noted with a frown.

“You bet, and I wasn’t about to stand still for it. I said, ‘Your Honor, I can’t answer such a hypothetical question. I would have to know both the person and the cat.’ And the fusty old coot fined me fifty dollars for contempt of court.”

I let out a laugh that had heads turning in the dining room. “You’ll have to tell this all to Ellis. He’ll love it. He has two Siamese of his own. I must say, between tying yourself to trees and rescuing animals, you’ve lived quite a life of crime.”

I got a very knowing look in answer. “So you met Mimi Trinler. Isn’t she a lovely woman? ”

“Er, yes. Yes, lovely.” I felt hot, and was sure my face went bright red.

Cindy flashed a wide-eyed look of innocence. “I think half the females in school were in love with her. Lord knows I was. I used to have really wild fantasies about her.”

“Indeed? ” I flashed a cool, Cary Grant smile. “Did anyone ever manage to make it with her? ”

“Not that I know of. She lives with a sizable music professor, who would probably throw her piano at anyone who got within ten feet of her Mimi.” She added casually, “Did you get to spend much time with her? ”

I felt my face heat up again. “No, very little. I was on a tight schedule. On my way to Norwalk to check out another applicant, ” I said in what I hoped was a professional manner.

I guess Cindy decided she had tortured me long enough. I was certain she knew exactly what my reaction to Dean Trinler had been, right down to the blue quilt.

She asked, “So when do I find out about your secrets? ”

“I don’t think there are many, just ask anybody in town. I’ve been here forever.”

“I may do just that. I’ve been thinking”—she changed the subject—“Ellis didn’t waste any time, did he? He called me yesterday afternoon to see if I could come up today. He offered me the job right away and wanted me here pronto. Any reason you know of? ”

“Not especially. I know your new department is his pet project. He feels the bank waited too long to offer your type of expertise, and I guess he’s making up for lost time.”

“Makes sense. A private investigator, ” she said again. “And what sort of things do you investigate besides employee profiles? ” She sipped her wine.

I was pleased at her reaction to my saying I was a PI. I don’t usually tell that to people I don’t know well. For some reason they invariably think it’s either hilarious or sleazy—and either reaction annoys me. “I don’t really have a specialty. I investigate a lot of personal injury claims on-season, chase down people named in wills, handle some other insurance frauds, and—when I’m broke— divorce grounds.”

“It sounds fascinating.” I looked at her and realized she meant it. For some reason, I felt really good about that. She leaned forward now, relaxed, elbows on table. “Are you investigating anything exciting now—that you can talk about? ”

“In a left-handed sort of way, ” I conceded. I told her a little of Schley’s murder and its aftermath.

“Wow. I never realized—I guess I never thought—how investigations actually work. I do hope you can clear the two old dears. They sound innocent as lambs to me.”

“I hope so, too. I’m getting quite fond of them, which may be a mistake. And don’t make them pearly white. They do provide pretty, compliant houseboys for their inn guests.”

She shrugged. “Better than their bringing in unknowns off the street, isn’t it? Boys will be boys.”

And then I did it. I reached for my wineglass and knocked it over, liquid spreading across the tablecloth at amazing speed. We both grabbed our napkins. The waiter came running. It only took seconds to get everything under control, but I was mortified. I had ruined everything. Cindy started to make a jocose comment, saw my face and backtracked. “Alex! Are you all right? Are you ill? ”

“No.” I sighed and explained my saga of the witch’s curse and its following slips and falls, spills and breaks. “I’m at the point of looking over my shoulder to see if she’s behind me, ” I finished.

She reached across and took my hand. “You poor dear. I know sort of how you feel. When I was a little kid, I decided our house was haunted and became terrified to go upstairs. One day I turned and ran back down the stairs so fast, I fell and got a really nasty bump on my forehead.” I took a cautious sip of coffee as she continued.

“The next day the lady who helped Mom take care of the house came, and I told her of my accident. She said, ‘Honey, now we know there’s no such thing as ghosts. So they can’t hurt you, but they can sure make you hurt yourself. So you got to not give ’em that power.’”

I looked at her quizzically, and she patted my hand and laughed. “I know—there’s a dichotomy in there someplace, but it’s also true. An old lady curses you, and afterwards a couple of odd things happen. You start looking for odd things, and you get tense and apprehensive, so you make them happen. There... your curse is gone! And we’d better do the same, it’s getting late.”

“Thanks for being understanding, ” I said as we left the restaurant. “Between you and my mother, I really do feel better.” I told her of mom’s “exorcism” and she laughed.

“I think I’d like your mom.”

“Me, too.” As we drove back to Aunt Mae’s for Cindy’s car, I thought again of Cassie’s lecture to me about being more assertive with women. That I should just go for it instead of waiting for the lady to make it crystal clear that she wanted me to go for it.

When we pulled in the drive, I cut the lights and put my arm across the back of her seat. “Look, Cindy, Providence is a long drive, and you’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. We could go back to my place and—”

She put two fingers across my mouth. “Shush. I am cold sober—with miles to go before I sleep. I’m fine. It was all lovely. We don’t need to push it. Anyway”—she grinned—“I never date on the first kiss.” She gave me a warm, soft kiss on the mouth— more than friendship, less than passion. She got out of the car. I sat there, feeling completely bewitched in the loveliest of ways.

Aunt Mae’s porch light went on and Fargo came running across the yard. Cindy held the door open for him and he jumped into the front seat. She reached in and kissed his head. “Take care of her, Fargo. The world needs its wine experts.”

I started the car, beeped a general goodnight and pulled out of the drive. “The hell with Cassie, Fargo, we’re doing okay as we are. We got a goodnight kiss, didn’t we? ”

He gave me a toothy grin and slurped my hand on the wheel. Now I had two kisses. Hard to beat.