Romeow and Juliet (7 page)

“Stop that,” I admonished.

The sea lion barked at me but didn’t swim away as I’d hoped he would.

“I suppose I’m in your napping spot?”

The fact that the sea lion dove down didn’t comfort me because I could almost predict what would happen next. I quickly grabbed for the ledge, which was just beyond my reach when the sea lion resurfaced and shoved me off my perch.

After swimming to the shore and pulling myself out of the water, I called Danny and left another message about the whale watching tour and then went home and took my third shower of the day. I changed my clothes and pulled my hair back into a braid, then headed to the grocery store, where I bought a week’s worth of groceries for Mr. Parsons, as well as dog food, a dog bed, a dog bowl, and several dog toys. I loaded everything into my car and drove over to pick up the dog and then back to Mr. Parsons’s, where I hoped to find him open to my offer of a job.

I’d left the kitchen door unlocked, so I put away the groceries before I went in search of my neighbor and my dog. I found them curled up on the sofa watching a movie together. Of course the minute I walked in with Rambler, Max jumped off the sofa to come over to greet his canine friend.

“Who do we have here?” Mr. Parsons asked.

“This is Rambler,” I answered. Thankfully, Rambler was a quiet and well-mannered dog who walked politely across the room to greet the elderly man.

“I actually brought him by to meet you because I’m in a bit of a tough spot and could really use some help.”

“What kind of help?” Mr. Parsons asked.

“A friend of Marley’s asked me to watch his dog for the summer while he’s fishing in Alaska,” I offered as a half truth. “I told him I’d do it, but now with Maggie being sick, I just don’t know if I can handle the extra responsibility.”

Rambler placed his paw in Mr. Parsons’s lap. Mr. Parsons smiled and began petting him behind the ears. I took that as a good sign.

“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in helping me out.”

Mr. Parsons paused. I hoped he was considering my request.

“And all I’d have to do is let him stay here with me?”

“Yep, that’s it. You have plenty of room and a large yard. Rambler is well behaved. I don’t think he’ll be a problem.”

“I guess I could do that. For you.” Rambler put his head in the man’s lap. “You’re always so thoughtful, bringing me your leftovers. I guess it’s the least I can do.”

“Excellent.” I sighed in relief. “The owner sent along some food and supplies. They’re in the kitchen; I put them away when I first got back. You have my number, so call me if you need anything. I’ll be back to visit on Friday, like I always do.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. You and Max can hurry along now.” Rambler had crawled onto the sofa and was lying next to his new dad. “I’ll see you both on Friday.”

I smiled as Max and I made our way back to my car. There’s no better feeling than putting two souls who need one another in touch for the first time.

Later that evening I began closing windows in preparation for bed. I’d had a long day and I was exhausted. Between my early morning wakeup call, my run-in with the fisherman, my unfortunate swim in the ocean, and my afternoon arguing with Maggie about going to Seattle for medical testing, I found that I was ready to put the stress of the day behind me. Max had been following me around the cabin as I worked, but so far I’d seen no sign of Romeo.

“Oh Romeo, sweet Romeo. ‘Wherefore art thou Romeo?’” I called.

No answer.

I tried again. “It’s time for bed. You like the fuzzy blanket under the comforter,” I reminded him.

I looked at Max. “Do you know where our little Casanova went off to?”

Max tilted his head as if he was considering the question but seemed as stumped as I was. Romeo had been in the cabin earlier. I’d fed him and he’d sat on my lap while we watched a movie on television. When the movie was over I’d gone out to take care of the cats in the sanctuary. I’d left Max and Romeo in the cabin, but now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen Romeo since I’d come back in. I didn’t think I’d left the door open, but the window had been cracked a few inches to let the warm spring air inside. Could Romeo have squeezed through? Danny had taken the screen for the window with him when he was here this morning. It had been torn for months and he’d decided that as long as he was going to fix the screen door he might as well fix the screen on the window as well.

“Juliet,” I realized.

I looked at Max. “You stay here and keep an eye out for our little tomcat. I’m going to go check next door. If Francine realizes that Romeo has come courting so soon after her lecture she’s going to kill both of us. If I’m not back in twenty minutes call 911.”

Max barked as if he understood, but even I didn’t believe he really could call for help should I run into a wrathful Francine.

Luckily, it was low tide, which allowed me to sneak around the hedge that separated the two properties without getting wet. I was actually hoping Francine would still be away, as she had been for most of the day. Things would go easier if she never found out that Romeo was trespassing again. Unfortunately, when I rounded the corner to her house the light in her living area was on. I didn’t want to call out for Romeo in case she heard me, so I silently slunk toward the back of Francine’s house. I doubted she would let Juliet get out twice in one day, so chances were that Romeo was near the back of the house, looking in.

I crawled onto the back deck and looked in through the large picture window. I almost let out a screech when I saw none other than Camden Bradford standing in the middle of Francine’s living room.

What in the heck was Mr. Bradford doing in Francine’s living room?

I squatted down so that only the top of my head could be seen through the window. I hoped the man wouldn’t turn around; the last thing I needed was another embarrassing encounter to add to my Camden Bradford Embarrassing Encounter portfolio. I looked around the room but didn’t see Francine or Juliet. It appeared Mr. Bradford was on the phone. I crawled along the ground toward an open window in the hope of overhearing his conversation.

“It’s all taken care of,” I heard him say. “It was really no problem at all. I’m glad to help with the cleanup. It’s the least I can do.”

Cleanup? Was the man here to clean Francine’s house? And then I noticed that the furniture was all shoved to the side of the room and the area rug that was normally under the furniture had been rolled up and placed near the door leading down to the basement.

“Don’t worry; I’ll take care of her,” Mr. Bradford said.

Take care of her? Take care of who?

“No one will ever know; now I gotta go.”

Mr. Bradford glanced in my direction. I slumped down so as not to be seen. When I didn’t hear anything more going on I looked back through the window after a moment. The door to the basement was open and the rolled-up rug was gone.

Francine?

I watched through the window as Mr. Bradford came back upstairs. He looked around the room and then headed toward the kitchen. I was trying to decide whether to try to sneak in and check out the basement when I saw the exterior light at the back of the house come on. I managed to leap off the two-foot-high deck and into the thick shrubbery a split second before Bradford opened the back door. He stood there looking around before closing the door and returning inside.

I scurried across the yard and then back around the hedge to my own side while trying to figure out what to do. Should I call Finn? It seemed like the logical choice, given the fact that I was certain Francine Rivers was wrapped up in her living room carpet.

Then the question became, why kill Francine? She was a candidate for the island council, as well as an outspoken opponent of the condo development. Bradford had said he would ‘take care of her.’ Could Francine be the
her
he was referring to, or was there yet another target in Camden Bradford’s evil plan?

With Keith out of the way, the council vote on the project would be tied. Whoever took Keith’s place would represent the deciding vote. I figured the person chosen to replace Keith would most likely come from the pool of candidates running for the open position. Like Francine, Maggie was an opponent of the project. The other two candidates, Drake Moore and Porter Wilson, had been vocal in their support of it.

When I got back to my cabin I was greeted by Romeo, who was sitting on the swing on my front deck.

“Where have you been, you naughty cat?”

Romeo began to purr. I tried to be mad but had to smile. I picked him up and then went inside, where I promptly called Finn. When Finn answered I explained what I had seen and what I suspected.

“Camden Bradford is a well-respected businessman who would have no reason to kill either Keith or Francine,” Finn insisted.

“Maybe his motive has something to do with the fact that his bank is backing the condo project,” I suggested.

“It seems unlikely. The bank backs all sorts of business ventures. I doubt Camden Bradford gets emotionally involved with his projects.”

“So where’s Francine and why was Mr. Bradford at her house?” I asked.

Finn sighed. “I don’t know. If I stop by to see what I can find out will you go to bed and let me handle it?”

“Yeah, okay,” I agreed. “And Finn . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

The next morning I got up early and made Aunt Maggie a big breakfast in the hope of enticing her to eat. The past few days her appetite had been all but nonexistent. Maggie was known for her sweet tooth, so I decided on homemade waffles with fresh boysenberries.

“You’re up early,” Maggie commented as she came downstairs dressed for work.

“I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“I appreciate that, dear, but I’m really not hungry.”

“I made waffles.” I took the cover off the stack on the warmer. “With boysenberries and powdered sugar,” I bribed.

Maggie hesitated. “They do look good. Maybe I’ll try a half.”

I spooned berries over the freshly grilled waffle and sprinkled it with the sugar, then I set it on the table, along with a big glass of milk.

“I think I’d like a cup of tea,” Maggie requested.

I put the water on to boil. Personally, I’m much more of a coffee drinker, but Maggie seems to love her tea, which in my opinion is so bitter as to be unpalatable.

“I’ve already seen to the cats,” I informed my aunt as I poured the hot water over the tea leaves. “I think the large ragdoll we took in over the winter is ready for a home. I thought I’d ask around. If I don’t find a home for him here I’ll take him to the next auction.”

“He’s a beautiful cat,” Maggie said as she served herself another half waffle. “I’m sure we won’t have a problem finding him a home. So what are your plans for the day?”

“I’m going to stop by Francine’s, and then I need to sit down with Danny to go over the reservations for the next few days. I’m having lunch with Tara so we can finalize the reworked proposal for the bank. And I thought I’d stop in at the Bait and Stitch after that. I’d be happy to help Marley, if you want to make it an early day.”

I poured myself a second cup of coffee and was about to serve Maggie the tea that had been seeping when Romeo jumped up onto the counter and knocked Maggie’s tea to the floor.

“Romeo,” I yelled as one of Maggie’s favorite cups shattered. “What has gotten into you?”

Romeo meowed and looked at me as I hurriedly picked up the pieces of broken china before any of the animals stepped on them.

“That’s okay.” Maggie picked up Romeo, who had wandered over to her in a gesture that looked a lot like an apology. “Accidents happen.”

“I’ll make you another cup after I get this cleaned up,” I offered.

“No, I think I’ll skip it this morning. I wanted to talk to you before you headed out for the day.”

“Oh, okay. What about?” I asked as I got the mop out of the broom closet and began to soak up the rest of the tea from the floor.

“I spent a good part of the night thinking about our discussion yesterday,” Maggie began.

“I’m sorry we argued,” I offered as I returned the mop to the closet and sat down across from her. “You know I love you, but I worry that you aren’t getting any better.”

“I know.” Maggie placed her hand over mine. “I’ve decided to go for additional testing. I’m going to the mainland on the one o’clock ferry. I’ll probably stay through the weekend, but I should be home sometime on Monday. I hoped you could help Marley at the store while I was gone.”

“I’d be happy to.” I smiled. “And thank you for doing this.”

“What’s this about visiting with Francine?” Maggie asked.

I took a huge bite of the waffle I’d served myself to delay answering. On one hand, I really wanted Maggie’s input on the situation. On the other, if she knew that something might have happened to Francine she would most likely cancel her trip.

“I wanted to ask her about Keith Weaver,” I compromised. “I’ve been thinking about his murder, and it seems to me that the motive could very well have to do with Bill Powell’s condo project.”

“How so?” Maggie asked.

“It occurred to me that Keith’s vote regarding the project could be pivotal. As of the last meeting, there were three members, including Keith, who were against and two members who supported the project. Tara told me recently she’d heard from Kim that Keith had switched sides and was planning to vote to approve the project. If that’s really true it seems to me that someone who’s strongly against the project might want Keith out of the way.”

“Wouldn’t it be a bit extreme to kill someone over a difference of opinion?”

“I think we’re talking about more than just an opinion here. The project has raised some really serious emotions. Those who want to see the lifestyle on the island preserved feel very strongly that the project, and others like it, should be blocked, while those who are barely scrapping by are counting on the project to bring new revenue to the island.”

Maggie took a sip of her milk. “You do have a point. I have to admit I haven’t kept up with things the way I used to since I’ve been ill, but I hadn’t heard anything about Keith switching sides.”

“That’s the thing; I’m not a hundred percent certain he had. Kim worked with him. She saw him every day, so you’d think she would know where he stood on the issue, but Bitzy, who’s interested in buying one of the new units and supports the project, told Tara and me that Keith seemed to be intent on blocking the project. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I do know that something doesn’t add up.”

“What does this have to do with Francine?” Maggie asked suspiciously.

“I figure that with Keith gone, his spot on the board will be filled by one of the four candidates running for the open seat. I think the assignment of Keith’s seat is going to be hotly contested because it will represent the deciding vote. You and Francine oppose the project while Drake Moore and Porter Wilson support it.”

Maggie frowned. I realized a moment too late that I might have said too much. I could see the wheels in her mind turning and was certain she was on the verge of canceling her trip.

“I’m sure the council won’t do anything about replacing Keith until next month’s meeting,” I added. “Hopefully, by then the specialist you’re going to see will have identified the problem and you’ll be back to your old self.”

“Maybe I should have a chat with Francine myself before I go,” Maggie said.

“It’s already getting late and you wanted to stop by the Bait and Stitch before you left,” I reminded her. “Why don’t you go ahead and do what you were going to do and I’ll let Francine know you want to get together next week?”

Maggie hesitated.

“It would be to your advantage to be at your best when you talk,” I reminded her.

“I suppose you’re right. You’ll call me if you learn anything new?”

“I will. And you’ll only be gone for a few days. I doubt anything at all will happen in such a short amount of time.”

Boy, was I wrong.

I finished eating breakfast and then saw Maggie off on her errands and did the dishes. When I’d checked with Finn earlier he’d reported that he’d been by Francine’s, as he’d promised the previous evening, but the house had been dark and no one had answered when he knocked. I’d asked why he didn’t just break in and check out the basement, but he’d explained that he didn’t have probable cause to do so. I was certain by this point that Camden Bradford was guilty of killing Francine, and probably Keith as well, but I needed some sort of proof before I would be able to get anyone to take me seriously.

“I’m certain Mr. Bradford has nothing to do with Keith’s murder,” Tara said as we shared lunch while we worked on the proposal for Coffee Cat Books.

“What about Francine?” I asked.

“You don’t even know she’s dead.”

“I saw Camden Bradford in her house. When Finn went by later the house was dark. I went by this morning and there was no answer. I’m telling you, Francine is rolled up in her area rug, which I assume is still in her basement.”

Tara sat back and looked directly at me. “You need to get off this whole conspiracy thing. The only way we’re going to follow our dream of opening Coffee Cat Books is if we can get the full amount of funding we need from the bank. We’re
never
going to get our loan approved if you’re running around town accusing the man who has the power to support our loan of murder. Please tell me that you’ll drop this.”

There was no way I was going to drop it. Tara should know me well enough to realize that. On the other hand, I really didn’t want to engage in a debate that had no acceptable resolution.

“Promise me,” Tara insisted.

“I promise I won’t run around town accusing Bradford of murder.”

“Good.” Tara sighed in relief. “So about the windows . . .” She launched into the subject we were supposed to be discussing in the first place.

I’d promised I wouldn’t run around town accusing the district manager of the bank of murder and I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t run anywhere. I finished my conversation with Tara and then headed over to the Bait and Stitch to help Marley, as I’d promised Maggie I would. I might have casually brought up the subject of Keith Weaver’s death to a few of the patrons who stopped by that afternoon. Of course, my sneaky interrogation of the Bait and Stitch customers yielded me nothing more than I could have gained from sitting at the bar at O’Malley’s and listening to casual conversation.

“I heard Cody West is back,” one of the women from the quilting circle commented.

“I heard that as well,” Marley answered. “He’s such a handsome young man, with those dark blue eyes and all that thick brown hair. I stopped off to pick up some coffee on my way in and overheard the gals from the Clip and Curl arguing over which of them had the right to take him out for a spin.”

“Out for a spin?” I asked as I rolled my eyes.

“I think that was their way of referring to dating,” Marley informed me.

“I know what it means to take someone out for a spin; it just seems archaic to compare him to an object that can be had by the winning bidder.”

“Oh, I don’t think they were actually bidding on him, dear. I think they were deciding among themselves who would have the right to pursue him.”

It’s hard to have a proper rant when the person you’re ranting to takes everything you say so literally. Of course, I’m not sure why I cared if the women at the Clip and Curl were arm wrestling over Cody. They could have him, because lord knew I certainly didn’t want anything to do with him.

“I’m afraid the girls might be wasting their time fighting over Cody,” one of the other women sitting at the quilting table chimed in. “I saw Cody at church on Sunday and he was sitting next to Samantha Waller. They seemed to be pretty chummy.”

Samantha Waller was the homecoming queen the year Cody was homecoming king. They’d dated for a while in high school, although they’d parted ways by the time Cody and I hooked up. Samantha had married a local boy right after graduating, but they’d since divorced. I guess it made sense that now that they were both living on the same island and single at least for the time being, they might renew their relationship. I’m not sure why that angered me, but it did.

“Samantha needs to settle down with someone like Cody,” someone said. “She married that loser who got her pregnant and now she’s on her own with twin boys to raise. Cody was always such a responsible sort. The type to honor his commitments. Samantha could certainly do worse.”

“I heard Cody is volunteering at the church this summer. He’s going to put his muscle to use and finally get the building painted.”

“It’s about time,” one of the women grumbled.

There were two churches on the island: St. Patrick’s Catholic Church and Madrona Island Community Church. The Catholic Church was in desperate need of a facelift, so I assumed that was the one the women were referring to.

“I know Velmalee is thrilled to have Cody back on the island,” Marley informed the group. Velmalee Arlington ran the community theater group, and even though Cody was most known for his contribution to the Madrona High School football team, he’d starred in his share of musicals as well. “I’m assuming he’ll rejoin the church choir as well.”

“Can we stop talking about St. Cody and get back to the subject of Keith Weaver’s death?” I suggested.

“I thought we’d exhausted that subject,” Marley said.

“The subject can’t be exhausted until the killer is caught,” I argued, not because I was that concerned about finding the killer but because I was over listening to everyone rave about the island’s favorite son.

After Marley and I closed for the day I said my good-byes and headed home. I knew that both Max and Romeo would be waiting for me and I had the cats in the sanctuary to tend to, but I decided to take a few extra minutes to stop off at Francine’s one more time. I parked at my cabin and headed next door via the beach. I knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer. I walked back around the house and looked in through the tiny basement window. It was dark, and I couldn’t really see anything, so I did what any logical person would do—I broke the window and squeezed inside. The minute my feet landed on the cement floor I heard a car pull up in the drive. I hoped whoever it was would realize Francine wasn’t home and quickly be on their way.

I stood still for a moment and listened. I didn’t hear anyone walking around overhead. Perhaps the car had left. It was dark in the sublevel room, so I used the flashlight on my phone to have a better look around. The basement was large and stuffed with old furniture and discarded boxes. It was going to take a while to find the rug. I carefully made my way through the room so I wouldn’t make a lot of noise in case whoever had arrived in the car I’d heard hadn’t left as I’d hoped. All I had to do was find Francine’s body, forward a photo of it to Finn, and then sit back and let him deal with the rest.