Telling Tails

Chapter 19

I was still hungry when I got home. I made grilled cheese for supper, did a little work on the Web site and finally settled in with Elvis to watch Gotta Dance.

Drew Carey started with a recap of the previous week’s show, and as I watched, it was as if all the little details from the past week finally slid into place in my mind.

“I’m stupid,” I said to Elvis. He climbed onto my lap, walked his front paws up my chest and put his face close to mine. I had no idea whether it was supposed to be agreement or consolation. I kissed the top of his head and reached for the remote to mute the TV. Then I explained what I’d just realized to Elvis. The cat tipped his head to one side and listened, green eyes fixed on my face just as though he was weighing my reasoning.

“Should we go tell Rose and Mr. P.?” I asked.

He jumped down from the sofa and went to stand in front of the door. Before I could get up, someone knocked. When I got to the door, Mr. P. was standing there.

“I know who killed Jeff Cameron,” he said.

“So do I,” I said, wondering how he’d figured it out.

He smiled and inclined his head. “Ladies first, my dear.”

“There were two episodes of Gotta Dance last Wednesday night. I think Leesa called the Vega house during the second one, after Michelle and I had been to see her. She wasn’t at the cottage when Rose was assaulted, just like she always claimed.”

Mr. P. nodded. “That makes sense.”

“How did you figure it out?” I asked.

“Remote-access app.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

He smiled. “That’s all right, my dear. I’ll explain.” And he did in just two sentences. Then he gestured toward Rose’s apartment. “Rosie’s waiting.”

I held up a finger. “Hang on a minute.” I hurried to the bedroom for a moment, then came back. “I’m ready,” I said. At my feet Elvis made a rumble of annoyance and squeezed past our legs.

Rose was waiting in the kitchen. I held out the glass jar of muscle rub I’d grabbed from the bedroom. “Smell this.”

She took the container from me, unscrewed the top and bent her head over it. Then she looked up, comprehension spreading across her face.

“Did that make you think of those tea chests?” I asked.

“Yes, it did,” she said.

“It’s anise,” I said. “The same thing you remember from those chests.” I took the jar from her. “I get this cream from a little place just around the corner from The Black Bear. I’ve been using it on my calf muscles after I run. It’s wonderful for sore muscles. You know what this means? We can prove who killed Jeff Cameron.”

Rose reached over to pat my cheek, a huge smile on her face. “Yes, we can,” she said. “And this calls for pie.”

I called Nicole Cameron in the morning. There were things she needed to know about her late sister-in-law before we did anything else. She said she’d be home all morning and I told her I’d stop by in about half an hour.

When I walked out to the SUV, Rose was in the front passenger seat and Mr. P. was sitting in the back. I opened the driver’s door, folded my arms over my chest and said, “No.”

Rose gave me a sweet and slightly condescending smile. “Sweetie, that didn’t work when you were four. It’s not going to work now.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go talk to Nicole with an audience,” I said.

“You’re not going without us,” Mr. P. said. “This is the last piece of the puzzle.”

I stood there wondering how I could get both of them out of the vehicle.

“You might be able to wrestle one of us out of the car, but you can’t take on both of us,” Rose said as though she’d read my mind, which I was starting to think might be a legitimate possibility. She smoothed the purple and silver scarf at her neck, the one she’d gotten from rocker Steven Tyler at a concert years ago. “I’m wearing my lucky scarf. Don’t fret, dear. Everything is going to be fine.”

I tapped the corner of my right eye with one finger. “You see these wrinkles?” I said. “You’re giving them to me.”

Rose leaned across the seat and squinted at me. “I think you just need to wear a little more sunscreen,” she said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said darkly as I climbed in.

When we arrived at Nicole Cameron’s house, Bayley and her friends across the street were working on what seemed to be a scene with the out-of-control beach ball/snowball. When Deb caught sight of us, she walked to the bottom of the driveway.

“I just need a minute to talk to Debra.” Mr. P. tapped on my shoulder from the backseat. “I found a little piece of software that I think will work better with her security system. It’s the program I was telling you about,” he said.

Mr. P. and Mac were working on a new security system for the shop. They’d both laughed at my idea of the sound effect of a dog barking on a constant loop.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Rose and I will go talk to Nicole. We won’t be long.” We started for the front door. Jeff Cameron’s Jeep was parked in the driveway, wheels cut hard to the right.

Nicole had seen us and was waiting at the door in a flowered cotton skirt and a white tee. She led us into the living room, which was piled with boxes. A plate with a double-tipped cheese knife, half a pear and a chunk of cheddar sat on the coffee table. “I’m sorry for the mess,” she said, gesturing at them. “The rental company is pressing me to get Jeff and Leesa’s place cleared out.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “You have a lot to deal with. We won’t take much time.”

“I’m going to Boston,” she said. “I’ve already put in my resignation at the hospital. Jeff and Leesa’s apartment will have to be emptied and there are a lot of things to handle for their estates.”

“We understand,” Rose said. “I’m sure there are a lot of reminders here of what happened.”

Nicole nodded. “On the phone you said you had something for me.”

I handed her the box with the two candlesticks. “Your brother bought these the day he . . . died. They’re yours now.”

“Thank you,” she said. She turned the box over in her hands. “I still find it hard to believe Leesa did this. I thought she loved him.”

“Did Leesa tell you she’d hired a personal trainer?” Rose asked.

I shot her a warning look.

Nicole frowned. “No. She didn’t say anything to me. Why would she hire a trainer?”

“She wanted to run a half marathon,” Rose said.

“Jeff could have trained her for that.” Two frown lines appeared between her eyes. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you think this trainer could have killed my brother, not Leesa?”

Rose shook her head. “No, dear,” she said. “You did.”