Last But Not Leashed, page 16
“Let’s get in out of the wind,” he said, taking my elbow. We were standing in the entryway, blocking a middle-aged couple from leaving. Only a few steps away, an empty table overlooking the street beckoned. “Are you meeting someone?” Colin asked, glancing around the room.
“Nope. Just felt like soup.” The difference in temperature inside the café was astonishing. My muffler felt like it was strangling me in the heat.
“Come join me.” Still holding my elbow, he guided me to the empty table, pulling out the nearest chair for me.
This was the first time I’d seen Colin in the daylight. At the New Year’s Eve party the lighting had been diffuse, sometimes downright dim. It didn’t matter. I stared up at the sculptural planes of his face, marveling at its beauty.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he slid his coat off and hung it over the back of the chair. He wore a slouchy blue cable knit sweater over a white T-shirt. A pale streak of yellow paint decorated the side of his hand.
“Fine. I’m glad to be out of that wind.” I sat down, conscious of my ancient sweatshirt worn over baggy jeans. I hadn’t intended to meet anyone, hadn’t planned stopping to eat. My blond hair was frizzled from the hood of my coat. The only beauty aid I had on me was a plain unscented lip balm.
Colin appeared oblivious to me, intent on scanning the menu.
When our server approached, we both asked about the specials.
“Let me check,” he said before scurrying away without taking our drink order. Judy’s employees took a casual approach to their jobs.
“So nice to see you again,” Colin said. “I was going stir-crazy in my studio. Had to get out to keep my sanity.”
I didn’t think Colin could get more handsome until he smiled.
“I know how that feels. My apartment is attached to the hospital. It’s convenient, but you feel like you’re always at work. Sometimes I need to get away, too.”
The server interrupted us. He read off the specials from a scrap of paper.
“I’ll have the mushroom barley soup and a toasted slice of date nut bread.” I’d been thinking about that combination and had my taste buds set on it.
“Sounds great,” Colin said. “I’ll have the same, with a pot of Earl Grey tea. Two cups, please.”
A trio of pedestrians walking in front of the café picture window clutched at their knit hats to prevent them from blowing away. A discarded receipt soared above the parked cars, twisting and floating in the wind.
Colin stared out at the street. “This sort of weather is a huge distraction to me when I work. There are constant random bursts of noise as things get knocked over. Glass panes rattle. Snow slides off the roof.”
“Unexpected noise,” I said. “It startles you when you’re trying to concentrate.”
“Exactly.” We smiled at each other. The server set down our orders.
“Do you want me to pour the tea?” Colin asked.
“Sure.”
Colin poured a little in my cup, the amber liquid fragrant with bergamot oil. “Has it brewed long enough?”
“Perfect,” I answered.
We sat companionably, periodically commenting on the date bread or the soup. Judy’s casual ambience, the old oak tables full of dings, the local consignment art pieces on the walls all made for a relaxing experience. Plus the homemade food was delicious.
“Do you keep to a schedule when you’re working?” I asked him.
“That depends on the type of project I’m doing. If it involves a live model, the answer is yes. But usually, for my large pieces I work all kinds of hours.” Colin took a bite of date bread and washed it down with tea. “That’s how I ended up here. I’d just finished a section, realized I was starving, and decided to take a break. What about you?”
“My hours are pretty rigid. Our appointment schedule is handled by our receptionist. It’s Monday through Friday, eight thirty to five thirty then every other Saturday until noon. After work, I stay and check my hospital email and do callbacks.” Almost finished with my soup, I slowed down, savoring the flavorful tea. “Because of the weather we got off early today, which is a rare occurrence.”
The couple behind me stood up to leave. I squished closer to the table to give them room.
“Sounds like you don’t get much time away,” Colin said. “Winter makes that feeling of isolation worse. It’s different if you could get out and ski or hike. But uncertain weather such as this forces you to stay inside and stare at the walls.”
An older man walked past the window clutching his coat, buffeted by the wind.
“I’ve got a friend, Jeremy,” I told him, “who is on a yacht in the Caribbean right now, soaking up the sunshine.”
Colin smiled a lazy smile. “Lucky man.”
“He’s rich. Family money. The only person I know with a trust fund. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be able to fly on a whim to Paris or London. Or spend a week in Peru.”
“That lucky bastard probably doesn’t appreciate it, wallowing in money his whole life.” He leaned back into his chair and stared out the window. “Freedom from worry, freedom from having to work for a living. Being able to produce the art you want to, not the art that will sell. Most of us don’t get that kind of break from the Fates.”
“Tell me about it. A big chunk of my paycheck goes to student debt.”
“Same here.” Colin took my hand and held it to his chest. “We shouldn’t complain, though. We’re young, healthy, and love our jobs. How many people can say that?” He gave the tips of my fingers a quick kiss, released them, and added, “If only the sun would come out.”
A commotion at the front door drew our attention. A man was speaking loudly to Judy, who stood at the counter drying her hands with a striped dish towel. When she turned away, he strode over to the community billboard and pinned up a notice. I got a good look at his face. Glenn Overmann appeared angry, as usual.
“Everybody,” he announced in a loud voice, “check out my flyer. I’m offering a twenty-thousand-dollar reward for the recovery of my stolen assets portfolio. Details are posted at tracksookiesheist.com.”
With his hair sticking up and his entire face covered with stubble, he bore no resemblance to the handsome groom in the romantic wedding pictures on Sookie’s website. I wondered if anyone had taken those photos down from the Internet.
His eyes scanned the customers, briefly stopping on me before moving on. Without warning he shouted, “A piece of advice, guys. Don’t tell anyone your passwords, especially your soul-sucking spouse!”
Hearing the noise, Judy stuck her head out through the swinging doors, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand, but by then Glenn had reached the exit.
“I’m going, I’m going.” A quick blast of frigid air and he was gone.
After some murmurs and comments, most people went back to their meals. Pot of coffee in hand, Judy walked around making sure everyone was happy. When she got to us, she said, “More hot water, Colin?”
“Sure, Judy. Thanks.”
“Be right back. Enjoying your meal, Dr. Kate?”
“Very much so. The soup is great.” She smiled back at me before turning away toward the wait station—but did I see a trace of a wink?
“What was all that yelling about?” Colin asked.
“That’s Glenn Overmann. His wife, Sookie, was murdered not long ago.” I started to explain but was interrupted.
“Dr. Kate. You should investigate that theft,” Judy returned, removing the cover of the teapot and refreshing it with more boiling water. “Might as well solve Sookie’s murder, too. The cops seem stalled or something.”
All eyes now on me, I felt a mild blush begin. “All that is best left to the professionals,” I said.
Colin’s interest had been piqued because he asked Judy what she meant. Judy went on to give a summary of some of the cases I’d helped Chief Garcia solve.
“Then one time Kate was face-to-face with…”
“Enough, please,” I implored Judy. “Give me a break.”
She raised one eyebrow as if to question me then said, “Sure. I need to go back to work anyway. Just think about it. It sounds tempting. Twenty thousand bucks.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I poured another cup of tea. “That was embarrassing,” I told Colin.
“Don’t think anything of it.” He waited for me to finish, then poured another cup of his own. “Do you know the number of people who’ve asked me to paint pictures of their dogs, or children, or want me to give them an estimate on painting the walls in their guest bedroom? It’s better to tell them you can’t take on any new projects at this time.”
“I’ve got a problem saying no to people.”
“Ah.” Colin took the last morsel of his date nut bread and popped it into his mouth. “Many women have that problem. Society expects you to be helpful. To nurture.”
“Exactly.”
He stood up and began putting on his coat. “Well, this has been lovely, but I, unfortunately, need to get back to work. It’s been a pleasure, Kate. If I don’t see you before I leave town next week, have a fascinating life.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To Helsinki, for an exhibition. Bye, now.” When he draped his muffler around his neck, it fell into professional-looking folds. He made a stop at the counter, laughed at something Judy said, and paid the bill.
I stared out the window for a while, thinking about the twenty-thousand-dollar reward. When I passed by the counter, Judy brought her cup of coffee over, ready for a little chat.
“Handsome guy, isn’t he?” she began. “But not the settling down kind. At least not yet.” She slid the bill over toward me. Colin had paid only for his meal. “I’ve seen that guy with every available woman in town, and some unavailable very married ones.”
“He’s an artist,” I said as if that excused or explained his lifestyle.
“We’re all artists of our own lives,” Judy commented.
I placed my credit card in front of her. “Yes, but I have a feeling Colin wants to produce a masterpiece.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Once I got home, my mind kept coming back to Glenn’s reward offer. Twenty-thousand dollars would pay down some student loan principal, with money left over for a vacation. I’d never been to Helsinki.
Sitting down at my computer, I quickly found Glenn’s website explaining the stock and bond and mixed investments portfolio he was looking for. At first glance it seemed hopeless. Whoever stole his computer files and passwords could simply sell off everything or transfer them to another brokerage, likely outside the U.S. Surely some forensic computer guys were hot on the trail? I learned from reading about a Russian ransom group’s hack of an American company that a trail is always left, even if payment is made in elusive Bitcoin.
My doorbell rang, prompting both dogs to start barking. Buddy ran over to the door first, with Mr. Pitt hesitantly standing behind him.
“Hey, it’s me,” yelled a familiar voice.
Buddy immediately started wagging his tail, and even Mr. Pitt appeared less fearful. I opened the door to see Mari standing outside, her rottie, Desi, looking out the window of her massive SUV.
“I’ve been texting you, but you haven’t answered,” she said. “Come on, Buddy, Mr. Pitt. Let’s go potty.”
Right outside my door is a fenced-in dog walk area. Mari shooed them through the gate and then let Desi out. Her dog immediately walked over and touched noses with Buddy, one of his favorite dog friends. Mr. Pitt hung back, the hackles on his shoulders and back standing up.
“It’s okay, everyone. Desi, sit.” Digging into her pocket, Mari gave a dog treat to Buddy, one to Desi, and then called Mr. Pitt over. Reluctantly, he moved closer, nibbling the treat from her hand. “Good boy,” Mari told Desi. “Good boys,” she said to the other dogs.
I noticed a tiny wag of the pit bull’s tail. “Didn’t you tell me this introduction signals everything is good?”
“That’s right.” She let Desi into the fenced area. “Go play, guys.”
First two dogs, then three began to romp, encouraged by some interesting dog toys Mari brought. “They seem to get along fine,” I said. “Oh, let me look at my phone.” I dug it out of my pants pocket and sure enough, I’d run out of charge and not noticed. “Maybe I need a new battery.” The wind stirred up the fresh snow, dispersing it into a fine mist.
“I’m freezing. You bring them in, and I’ll get Desi’s stuff from my truck.” Mari raised the tailgate with her key fob and took off.
“Inside,” I called out. I lifted the lock on the gate and quickly opened my front door. Desi glanced at Mari but followed his buddies inside.
Half an hour later, Mari and I sat in my living room surrounded by snoring dogs. All three showed brachycephalic characteristics, meaning shortened muzzles—the better to snore and snort and drool.
“That’s quite a racket,” Mari commented to me. She lay stretched out on my sofa, feet perched on the coffee table.
“I’m used to it now.” I’d plugged my phone into its charger when we came inside. After a few minutes I popped up to check it was taking the charge. “Amazing how much time we devote to our phones.”
“True.” She reached over for her mug of tea. “I’ve saved about a thousand pictures of the dogs. I’m convinced that’s what’s taking up all my cellular memory.”
“Hey,” I said, settling back to my place on the couch. “Did I tell you I ran into that guy from the New Year’s party? Colin?”
She immediately sat up. “Tell me everything.”
“Not much to tell. We ran into each other at Judy’s, and had dinner together.”
“Nice.”
“Well don’t make too much of it, because he’s leaving for Finland soon.”
“Finland?”
“He’s showing at a gallery in Helsinki. And I know what your next question is.” Our eyes locked as I tried to figure out what she was thinking.
“So, I’m thinking…”
“Did he hit on me? Right?” My friend dissolved in giggles.
One of the dogs moaned and rolled over.
“The answer is no, although Judy implied he’d dated half the town. Maybe I should consider it an insult?”
“He already tried at the dance, and you shot him down.”
“Right.”
“Did he mention Posey’s suicide?” With a sigh she leaned back into the sofa.
“Not over supper. But something odd happened while we were eating. Glenn Overmann came in and made a big deal about offering a twenty-thousand-dollar reward for helping find the money that Sookie embezzled. We should ask Cindy if the police have any leads.”
Mari stood up and stretched. “I did ask her. Glenn is still their primary suspect. They’re busy trying to find some proof. As far as his money—Cindy said the guys who trace missing financial portfolios are swamped with cases. They’ve got malware and international hackers holding companies for ransom to deal with. No one is treating Glenn’s case as a priority.”
“So he’s offering his own reward. That makes sense.” I slid the big bag of dog food Mari gave me across the floor and into the pantry.
“Here’s his food bowl and water bowl.” The water bowl resembled a stainless steel mixing bowl. “Desi drinks a lot of water.”
I saw the big dog lift his massive head up on hearing his name.
“Kate, you should try to find Glenn’s portfolio. I know you could use the reward money.”
My enthusiasm didn’t match Mari’s. “Nope. This is way above my level of computer skills. You’re talking moving in and out of secure databases. I’m not even sure it’s legal.”
“If he hires you, he’s got to supply his accounts and passwords to you. Right? You probably won’t be the only one trying, though.” That look of concentration on her face was one I knew well. “Maybe you should pair up with someone? You follow the real-life paper trails, and the computer geek does the online stuff.”
Thinking about someone else’s problem did help push my own into the background. Maybe I could…
“Know any computer guy who might be interested?” Mari took her empty cup and put it in the kitchen sink. “There’s got to be a guy around who can do it.”
That phrase kept moving around in my head. Computer guy. Then I got it.
“I do know a computer geek who might be up for it,” I told her. “But she’s a gal.”
At first Mari thought I was joking, but I reminded her that first impressions are often wrong. As for assuming every computer geek is male, well, that doesn’t hold true anymore. Coding schools and education programs were changing that.
After Mari left to take care of her mommy dog and puppies, I headed to the one place I thought I’d find Rainbow. Or find people who might know where she was.
This time when I pushed open the door to the Oak Falls Diner, I didn’t care who saw me.
A table with a view of the kitchen was what I wanted. A few were available, one much more private and pushed against a wall.
“Hi, Doc. What can I get you?” One of Luke’s cousins who worked part-time as a server came over to take my order. “Pie?”
She knew me well. “No, I’m cutting back on the pie a bit. I’ll have the fresh fruit plate and decaf coffee and the dinner special on the blackboard, to go.”
“Good choice.”
As she started to leave I said, “Do you know if Rainbow’s around? I need to ask her a quick question.”
“Oh, that one. Yeah. She’s working in the back today.” In one fluid motion she turned and snagged the decaf carafe and a mug from the serving station. “We’re not that busy, yet. I’ll see if she can come out.”
For the next few minutes, I tried to plan what to say. From what I gathered, she wasn’t staying in town for long. I needn’t have worried. Rainbow had only one question.
