“It all goes back to Dinah taking her job away at Turner Construction,” Hannah said.

“Dinah doing what?” I said.

“Dinah got a job there as kind of office manager, mostly because Rusty was hot-cha-cha in lust with her,” Hannah said on a cute giggle. “But Isadore did the bookkeeping for the company . . . you know, taxes, payroll, that kind of thing. It was just part-time, in addition to her job at the bank, which was just part-time at that point, too. I forgot that there used to be a lady named Mrs. Murphy, who was like the dragon lady of the tellers. Isadore supplemented her teller’s job with doing bookkeeping for folks. Anyway, that all changed when Dinah took over at Turner Construction.”

I thought about it for a long moment. That explained Isadore’s venom toward Dinah, but it didn’t explain why Dinah had claimed not to remember who used to do the books for the construction company. Although . . . if I had had to get someone fired because they were doing a lousy job, I might avoid the whole question, too. “Wait . . . how did Isadore get out to Turner Construction? It’s a ways out of town. She couldn’t have ridden her bike out there all winter.”

“Wait a sec, I’ll ask my mom,” Hannah said. When she came back, she said, “Mom says Isadore used her brother’s big, old car to drive out there. I guess she can drive, but leaves the car in the garage most of the time.”

Except when she was running my uncle off the road? Okay, so that was a stretch, but it was possible. “You have been a busy little bee, haven’t you, to find all this out?”

“I have! Oh, and one more thing I found out,” she said. “Tom was following someone for a lawyer, right, but we didn’t know what lawyer? Well, I know Mr. Silvio’s secretary, Chrissie; in fact, we went to school together when we were just little kids, and she comes in to the library all the time. She says that Tom was following a woman because Mr. Silvio suspected her of something, she wasn’t sure what.”

“What woman?”

“She didn’t know,” Hannah said regretfully. “She might be able to find out, though, tomorrow, when she’s in the office.”

“Why wouldn’t he hire the private investigator who has an office in the same building, if he wanted someone followed?”

“I don’t know. That guy doesn’t spend a lot of time in Autumn Vale, I think. Plus, Tom would have been cheaper, I suppose. He wasn’t doing much, with his dad missing and Turner Construction mostly out of business.”

“You’re right,” I said thoughtfully. “Thank you, Hannah. You’ve given me a lot to think of.”

“I may find out more tomorrow!” she said.

“Hannah, now listen to me; you be careful. I don’t want you asking too many questions.” In every detective book I’ve ever read, the one who gets snoopy gets in trouble. I couldn’t bear the thought of little Hannah being targeted. This was serious. I heard someone yelling in the background.

“I’m coming, Mom. Yes, I’m getting off the phone now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Merry,” she said, and hung up.

I hope she had heeded my warning. I headed to bed, making sure Becket was comfortable first. He seemed to be okay, though he was still standoffish with me. He watched me, and it was unnerving, especially as I undressed and did my nightly ritual of shower, face cream, and hair. It seemed as if he was not used to being in the presence of a woman.

Sleep came fairly quickly, and I was happy about that. I thought about Shilo as I nodded off. I hoped she had found love. Would I ever? “Miguel,” I whispered, “will I ever find anyone like you?”

Chapter Twenty-four

I HAD A strange dream. I saw Miguel, but he was just leaving for work. I clung to him at the door, like I often did, but he told me he had to go, and I was upset. Then something woke me up—something sharp and painful—before I had a chance to ask him why he had to leave in such a hurry.

The “something sharp and painful” was a full set of cat claws. Becket’s method of waking me up was by smacking my face. He looked better, a lot better. Even his coat had regained some gloss. Being a naturally bright person, I figured that he was hungry. Yawning, I wandered downstairs, with him following me, and opened a can of tuna. I plopped it into the saucer of one of the cups that came in the box of mugs I had bought from Janice Grover. I then remembered I had a case of cat food, but it was too late. He ignored the tuna anyway, prowling back and forth near the door. Lightbulb moment—my brain is slow to work before my first coffee of the morning—he had to go to the bathroom, and didn’t like the litter box I had bought. After almost a year of living in the wild, he had developed certain habits, I supposed.

I looked down at him as he paced back and forth, scratching at the door in the butler’s pantry. “You won’t go far, right? You’ll just go out, do your business, and come right back?”

He looked up at me and meowed loudly. Sounded like a “Sure, just let me ooooout!” to me. “Okay, all right. I’m losing my mind, talking to a cat. I’m trusting you here, so go out, do your business, and come back in. You’re still on the mend, fella.” I opened the door, expecting Becket to saunter out, but he suddenly became an orange streak and headed directly for the woods. I hopped outside, my slippers hitting the cold stone, but he was already gone.

“Darn cat!” I said, only it wasn’t “darn.” I had a million things to do, but how was I going to do any of it when I was worried about the cat? The vet had cautioned me that he might seem fine, but was still recuperating; she wanted to see him again in two days. That would be hard to do if he was roaming the woods. I futzed around for a few minutes, but there was nothing to do but go looking for him. I hopped from foot to foot in the cold morning air, considering dashing after him then and there, slippers and all, but then the castle phone rang. I ran back into the kitchen.

“Hello?” I gasped.

“Merry, darling, are you okay? Did I catch you at a bad time?”

It was Pish, of all people! This early? I looked at the clock. “Why are you calling me at six a.m.? I didn’t think you even knew the early hours existed.”

“Sweetie, I was a financial planner and investment counselor for how many years? I used to get up at the crack of dawn to read the financial news before hauling myself downtown. I don’t look at dawn’s crack anymore, but I still do know it exists. Enough of that; I have news!”

“What kind of news?”

“The kind of news I can only deliver in person.”

I stood there, phone in hand, perplexed. I held the receiver away from me and glared at it for a moment. Was he kidding? “In person? I can’t come back to the city right now.”

“That’s why I thought I’d come to you!”

“You would come all the way here, to Autumn Vale, the backwater of upstate New York? To tell me what?” My stomach twisted. “Pish, is it dreadful news?”

“No, darling, it’s not dreadful,” he reassured me. “Not for you, anyway. But it is fascinating!”

“Hint! Please, Pish, a hint! I have to go search for a cat—long story—but I’ll die without a hint.”

“It has to do with Autumn Vale Community Bank. And that’s all I’m saying! I’m heading out this minute to catch a flight, but I need you to meet me at the airport in Rochester. You’re only an hour away from Rochester, right?”