Buy А Whisker

Chapter 10

My heart was pounding so hard it took a few seconds for me to get my breath. I’d come way too close to actually walloping Rose with my makeshift squirrel eliminator. “Rose!” I exclaimed. “You almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing in here?”

“I’m trying to get this dang-blasted curtain rod out of the closet,” she said. The rod was the long wrought-iron one that belonged over the living room window.

“Merow!” Elvis said sharply.

“I’m sorry, Elvis,” Rose said, inclining her head toward him. “Excuse my language.”

“Let me see,” I said. I poked my head around the closet door for a closer look. Each end of the rod had a pointed finial, and one of the points was wedged in the back corner of the space.

I twisted and maneuvered and in a couple of minutes I had the curtain rod free.

“You are a darling girl and very, very smart,” Rose exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

I blew my hair back off my face. “How did you get in here?” I asked. Elvis had gone into the closet, maybe to make sure for himself that there weren’t any squirrels in there.

“I borrowed the extra set of keys that Isabel keeps at Charlotte’s,” she said.

“And does my grandmother know you borrowed the keys?”

“Well, of course not,” Rose said, giving me a slightly condescending look. “She isn’t even in town.” She started patting her coat pockets.

“What did you lose?” I asked, brushing a dust bunny off the knee of my leggings.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m just looking for—” She found something in her left pocket. “Never mind, dear. Here it is.” She pulled out a tape measure. “Hold this end for me, please.”

I took the end of the metal tape, and Rose went to the other end of the curtain rod. She peered at the numbers and her lips moved, although no sound came out. Then she smiled. “That’s going to work just fine,” she said.

I looked blankly at her.

“I have some panels that I was hoping would work in the living room window. And they will.” For the first time she noticed the board I’d been carrying. “Oh my goodness,” she said, her eyes widening. “Did you think I was someone breaking in?”

I bent down to pick up the plank. “I thought you were a squirrel.”

Her eyes darted around the room. “A squirrel?”

“One got in this room last fall when Dad put in the new window. I thought maybe it had gotten in again on the weekend when Mac and I were bringing in the paint and the ladder.”

Rose looked at the piece of cupboard trim in my hand.

“You weren’t going to hurt a little squirrel—were you, Sarah?”

The length of wood—which had seemed so small in the hallway when I was headed to confront a vicious rodent—suddenly felt like an oversized club now that I was standing here with Rose.

“I . . . I wasn’t going to hurt it,” I stammered. “I was only going to herd it outside again.” I made the motion with the piece of wood and noticed that Elvis had already slipped out of the room.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she said, putting the tape measure back in her pocket. “Squirrels are environmentalists, you know.”

She leaned over to pick up one end of the curtain rod.

“I, uh, didn’t know that,” I said, taking it from her and following her out to the living room, where Elvis was sitting under the window, not looking at all like a cat who a few minutes ago was licking his whiskers at the thought of squirrel kebobs for a little evening snack.

“Oh yes,” Rose said. “Squirrels are the animal kingdom’s equivalent of Johnny Appleseed.” She tipped her head to one side and smiled at me, making a wide circle with one hand. “They spread seeds far and wide and help maintain genetic diversity in a lot of plant species.”

I nodded silently. I had the niggling feeling that Rose was screwing with me, but nothing showed in her face.

I set the curtain rod down on the floor under the window. “Is there anything else you need to do while you’re here?” I asked.

She shook her head and began to button her coat. “That’s all.”

I smiled. “I’ll get my coat then and I’ll drive you home.”

She waved away the suggestion with one hand. “I walked over here. There’s no reason I can’t walk home.”

“It’s cold,” I said.

“It was cold when I walked over,” she replied, squaring her shoulders under her blue coat.

“Rose, am I going to have to pin you down and tie you up with that cord”—I pointed to a window blind lying on one of the folding chairs, its cord spilling onto the floor—“and wrestle you into the car? Because I could do it.”

Rose reached over and patted my cheek with a gloved hand. “Fine. I’m going to let you drive me home because I don’t want you to be embarrassed when a little old lady takes you down.”

We started for the door. “You think you could take me down?” I said.

“Well, of course I could.” She gave me a look that, had it come from Avery, would have also come with the comment, “Well, duh.”

We stepped out into the small hallway, and I locked the door.

“When you have gray hair and wrinkles people tend to underestimate you. It’s one of the pluses of being old,” she said, “which is good, because some of the minuses are a pain in the hind end.”

“I don’t underestimate you,” I said, waggling my eyebrows at her. “But you may be underestimating me. I’ve spent most of my life around you and Gram and Charlotte and Liz.” I gave her a sly smile. “I’ve learned a few things from all of you.” I winked at her and went in to get my coat. I caught sight of the cat tower by the window. I poked my head back out in the hallway and beckoned at Rose. “I want to show you something.”

“Oh, my dear, that’s a lovely cat climber,” she said. She looked down at Elvis. “You’re a very lucky cat.”

He murped agreement.

“Sarah, where did you get this?” Rose asked.

“Alfred made it for me,” I said. “As a thank-you for me letting you have the apartment. You just missed him.”

Her face turned an adorable shade of pink. “Oh my goodness,” she said, putting a hand to her cheek.

“He’s crazy about you, Rose,” I said.

She smiled. “I know.”

“Rose Peterson has a very nice ring to it,” I teased as I got my jacket from the closet.

“Never you mind about my love life, missy,” she said tartly.

I looked at her over my shoulder. “Oh, so your love life is off-limits, but it’s okay for you and Liz and Charlotte to meddle in mine.”

She pulled herself up to her full height of almost five feet. “Yes, it is. We’re not meddling. We’re just sharing the benefit of our experience with you.”

I laughed and pulled on my hat. “Why do you always get the last word?” I asked.

Rose smiled. “Because I’m old and very cute.” She winked at me.

I kissed the top of her head much the way Sam had done with me. “That you are,” I said, grabbing my purse.

“Before I forget, I have some good news,” I said as I pulled out of the driveway. “Liz isn’t a suspect in Lily’s death anymore.”

“That’s wonderful,” Rose exclaimed. “How do you know?”

I told her about meeting Michelle.

“This doesn’t mean we’re stopping the investigation.”

I was at a stop sign and there was no one behind me, so I turned to look at her. “Why is this so important to you?” I asked. “You barely knew Lily. And Liz is in the clear now.”

“We can make a difference,” she said. “And when you get old, you get invisible.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. You’re not invisible, Rose. Not to me.”

She nodded. “But you’re the exception, dear. Old people make younger people nervous. They see that we’re slower and more forgetful. And nothing is where it’s supposed to be anymore without surgery or spandex.”

She put her hands on the front of her coat and made an upward motion like she was hiking up her chest, and I had to bite my tongue so I didn’t burst out laughing.

“Sarah, I know that you’re the one who figured out who killed Arthur Fenety, but we all helped,” she said.

She was right. They had. They’d driven me crazy in the process, but they had.

“We made a difference in the world beyond making baby quilts and selling cookies to get new playground equipment. I liked the feeling.”

“Those other things matter, Rose,” I said. I looked both ways and crossed the street.

“And so does this,” she said.

I sighed softly. “So what’s next?”

“You’re really not going to try to shut us down?”

I shot her a quick glance. I could tell from the brief glimpse of her body language that I’d be wasting my time. I’d always been wasting my time trying to stop them. So was Nick.

I didn’t even try to stifle a smile. “I told you I’ve learned a few things from all of you, and one of them is to know when I’ve been beaten. So no, I won’t. What will you do now?”

Rose sighed softly. “It’s looking more and more like Lily’s death has something to do with the harbor-front development,” she said. “It certainly has brought out the worst in some people.”

“Money usually does,” I said. I glanced over at her again.

She nodded. “That and sex,” she said.

“Right,” I agreed, keeping my eyes fixed on the road through the windshield. I was not going to get into a discussion involving sex with Rose.

“I know this is a good thing for Liz and for Eamon Kennedy and for a lot of the businesses along the harbor front, but I wonder sometimes if this proposal is good for the town.”

I did glance over quickly at her then. “It could be good for bringing in more tourists.”

“I know,” Rose said, folding her hands in her lap. “I meant the division it’s caused in town isn’t good for any of us. Whatever happens, those kind of wounds tend to linger.”

We drove in silence for about a minute or so.

“Sarah, do you think that man—Jon West—could have killed Lily because she wouldn’t sell the bakery to him?” she asked.

I exhaled softly. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “People have committed murder for a lot weaker reasons.”

“Maybe what happened was an accident,” she said, “and the person got scared and ran.”

“Then whoever it was, they need to come forward. The longer they wait, the worse it gets.”

“It’s not always easy to do the right thing,” Rose said softly. “It takes you down the road less traveled, and that’s a bumpy trip.”

I nodded without speaking. I wasn’t sure what road we were on as far as the investigation into Lily’s death, but I was certain we were in for a rough ride.