Josie started as the front door opened. Helen Crawford did a double take, her hand flying up to her throat. “Josie?”
“Helen?” Josie's heart rate skyrocketed.
Helen set down her shopping bag and stared. “What are you doing here?” she finally said, looking more surprised than confused. “Did Evelyn bring you? I thought we'd decided no one was allowed up here. Ever.”
Josie decided to play dumb. Which was not far from the truth. She had no idea what was going on here. Couldn't even begin to guess.
“I had a set of Cora's keys. I wanted to see what they went to.” It was the truth. Mostly.
“Does Evelyn know you're here?” Helen pulled a tray of cookies out of the bag and set them on the table, next to the laptop. Molasses, maybe, with a sparkly sugar coating.
Josie shook her head. “I just arrived.”
“Well then,” Helen said, her voice crisp, “you may as well see everything.” She beckoned Josie to follow across the green shag carpet to a closed interior door. Helen knocked softly, then opened the door and stepped aside.
The room, which had probably been a bedroom when this was a proper apartment, was taken up by three six-foot folding tables set in a horseshoe shape around the perimeter. The tables were covered with various pieces of electronic equipment, as well as several large screens, all of which seemed to be playing video feeds like the one on the laptop out front. In a wheeled stenographer's chair in front of the screens sat Evelyn, an enormous pair of headphones covering her ears. She seemed oblivious to their presence.
Josie felt her mouth drop open. What in the name of Gucci was this? It looked like the set of a movie.
Helen stepped forward and reached out a hand to tap Evelyn's shoulder. “Evvy?” she said. Evelyn spun around, the cord from the headphones crossing her body like a bandolier. Her face went pale as she focused on Josie.
“Code red,” Helen said.
“Howâ? What are you doing here?” Evelyn spluttered. “This place is secret!” Her face went as scarlet as the scarf around her coat in the outer room.
Helen's voice was matter-of-fact. “She had Cora's key. She must have seen your car in the alley and figured it out. I told you to stop parking there.”
Josie just stood there, agape, until she finally found her voice. “I don't understand. Do you run some kind of surveillance business here? I thought you were both retired.”
Helen and Evelyn looked at each other. “Sort of,” Evelyn said. “Can we trust you?”
“Do you have a choice?” Josie responded. “I've already seen it.”
Evelyn gave her an assessing look. “Fine. Let's go talk.”
The three women trooped out to the front room. Josie sat down on one of the plastic-covered chairs, which gave off a little puff of air as she did so. Evelyn followed suit, choosing the couch.
“Cream and sugar in your coffee?” Helen called out from the kitchenette. “Never mind. I'll just bring a tray, and you can fix it yourself.” She reappeared a moment later and set the tray on the coffee table. There were real china cups and saucers, as well as the cookies on a platter. Helen sat down on the chair opposite Josie and reached for a cup.
Josie didn't know what to say. She wondered briefly if she were a guest at the Mad Hatter's tea party.
Evelyn poured herself a cup of coffee, then began. “I suppose you're wondering what all this is.” She swept her free hand around the room. “Helen owns this building.”
“Hasn't been rented in years,” Helen said, through a mouthful of cookie. “I've been using it as a tax write-off.”
Josie butted in. “Where did you get all this equipment? It must have cost a fortune.” Her suspicions resurfaced. Did these two need money to keep this little operation going, whatever this little operation was? And were they looking at Eb as the banker?
“Spygrannies.com,” Helen said, looking pleased with herself. “You can buy anything on the Internet, including used surveillance equipment.”
Josie was at a loss for words. Whatever she had imagined was going on in this third-floor apartment, senior ladies playing with spy gadgets had not even been on the radar. “So whatâor whomâare you spying on?” she finally managed.
Evelyn and Helen exchanged a look. “If we tell you, you are sworn to absolute secrecy.”
“I can't make that promise. If you're doing something dangerous, or illegal, I'll have to report it.”
Evelyn sighed.
“You might as well tell her,” Helen said. “She's already discovered us. If she wants to rat us out, we can't stop her.”
“I suppose you're right.” But Evelyn didn't look happy. “We're spying on Diantha.”
“Not just Diantha,” Helen piped in. “Courtney too.”
Whatever Josie had expected, this wasn't it. “But why?”
Evelyn said, “Do you mean other than the fact that Diantha's uppity and thinks she can run the Charity Knittersâand the whole town of Dorset Fallsâthe way she likes? We thought if we could catch her doing something illegal, or at least unsavory, we could blackmail her with it and get her to step down from the Charity Knitters presidency.”
“And from the town council,” Helen added.
These ladies were probably breaking all kinds of laws. But Josie wouldn't exactly be against seeing Diantha taken down a peg or two. “Have you found anything?”
Evelyn frowned. “Unfortunately, no. So we moved on to Courtney. Diantha's so concerned with appearances, if we could dig up some kind of dirt on Courtney, and hold it over Diantha's head, it would be just as good.”
“We think Courtney's having an affair with Rusty,” Helen said. “But we can't prove it yet. That's why we put surveillance in the car repair shop.”
“Cora set it up while I distracted Rusty.” Evelyn nibbled at a cookie.
“Cora?” Of course Cora had been involved. Otherwise she wouldn't have had a key to this . . . inner sanctum.
“Well, Cora was president of the Charity Knitters. So for her it was just about getting Diantha to resign from the town council.” Evelyn sipped at her coffee, then set the cup down in its saucer. “She died before we had enough data to confront Diantha.”
“So now you're carrying on without Cora?” Josie said. Cora would be pleased, Josie assumed.
“Honestly, we're having some problems.” Evelyn's face lit up. “I know! Since you've found us out, maybe you can help.”
Whoa. As much as Josie would like to see Diantha deposed, and her little daughter-in-law too, this operation was out of her comfort zone. “I'd like to help, butâ”
“Wonderful!” Evelyn actually clapped her hands. “Cora was our tech goddess. If she had been in the movies, she'd have been the character who hacks into the government's computers. I'll bet you've got the same skills.”
“Evelyn, Helen, I know enough about computers to get by. But I'm no expert.”
“Well, you know more than we do. We put tracking devices on Diantha's and Courtney's cars, but we don't know how to get the data off them.”
Tracking devices? Good grief. Josie was definitely down the rabbit hole.
Helen jumped up with alacrity and came back with a thick booklet, which she handed to Josie. “The instruction manual,” she said. “Just read this.”
Um, yeah. Josie would get right on that. Because she didn't know what else to do, she took the manual and tucked it into her tote bag. Her fingers touched metal, and Josie pulled out the travel mug, which she set on the coffee table. “I wanted to return this to you,” she said.
Evelyn cut her eyes to Josie. “Very good. An excellent excuse for following me up to the Lair.” She turned to Helen. “You know something? I'm glad Josie found us. She'll make a great member of the team.”
Helen nodded. “I believe you're right. Go ahead and keep the keys. You can come up here whenever you like. And,” she added, “the sooner you figure out how to get the information off the tracking devices, the better.”
Josie smiled ruefully. “You know I won't be here much longer, right?”
“You're here for at least a few more days, right? So you can help us while you're still in town.”
Sure. Even if she did agree to apply her less than stellar computer skills to this little enterprise, would she be doing anything illegal? She wasn't actually doing the surveilling herself. But that was probably splitting hairs. The end result was the same.
“I'll try,” Josie finally said, after taking a sip of the coffee, which was very strong. These ladies could hold their caffeine. Or maybe they needed to keep themselves awake while they surveilled Diantha and Courtney. “Oh, I have something for you. I bagged up the yarn from Cora's office at the farmhouse. It's in the trunk of my car. You two can divide it up.”
Helen leaned forward, the yarn lust glittering in her eyes. Evelyn smiled, then looked at Helen. “That'll be some prime stuff. I know what Cora had at home.”
A lightbulb seemed to materialize over Helen's pale blond head. “I know! Why don't we bring it up here and sort it out? Then we can leave some here to use while we're . . . working.”
“Excellent idea,” Evelyn said. “Shall we go get it?”
The members of the Charity Knitters did not waste time when yarn was at stake.
“Aren't you afraid someone will see you?” If Josie had noticed these two coming and going from this building, other people would too.
“Well,” Helen said, “we have a cover story. If anybody sees us and mentions itânot that anyone has yetâwe'll say that we're taking care of the cat I have living up here to keep the mice out of the building. Every once in a while one of us brings up a bag of cat litter or food, just in case someone's watching.”
Josie chuckled. “Is there a cat?”
Evelyn shook her head. “But we really are thinking of getting one. We spend a lot of time here, and it would be nice to have a pet.”
“Now,” Helen said. “Why don't you bring your car around to the back, and we'll relieve you of the burden of Cora's yarn.”
Josie descended the stairs, opened the front door gingerly, and looked both ways down Main Street. The coast seemed clear, so she closed the door behind her and went across the street to her car. She drove it around to the alley behind Helen's building and parked it. She hoped Evelyn wouldn't need to make a quick getaway, because Josie's car was blocking her in.
Josie popped open the trunk. The three bags of yarn would require two trips up two flights of stairs. Helen and Evelyn had not offered to help. Well, Josie thought, she was thirty-five years younger than these ladies, and the exercise would do her good.
She pulled two bags out and set them on the ground as she closed the trunk lid. She picked them up again and started her trek up the garishly lit stairwell. Josie squinted at the bright light. There was no consistency in this town. Either the stairs were dim and cobwebby, or blindingly brilliant.
By the time she reached the second-floor landing, her breath was ragged and a painful stitch lanced her side. Seriously? How out of shape was she? Once she got back to New York, it was back to healthier eating and the gym. No more Yankee food. She set the bags down, stretched her cramped fingers, and picked the bags up in a better grip to continue her trek to the Lair.
Were Evelyn and Helen telling the truth about what they were actually doing in this not-so-abandoned building? And had Cora really been involved? The story had the ring of truth to it. Josie drew a deep breath as she dragged the bags up the last few steps, hoping the plastic wouldn't rupture, but her arms were too tired to lift the bags any higher. She liked Evelyn. Helen, too. She hoped their story was true. And that they weren't going to get themselves into a whole heap of trouble.
A shuffling noise came from behind the door to number four, and Helen opened it. Her eyes fell on one plastic bag, stuffed full, then moved on to the other. “I'll take those,” she said, and reached out. The older woman had the moderately heavy bags inside the door in an instant. “Is there more?”
“One more bag. I'll go get it, then I should be on my way. I need to get back to the farm.” Helen closed the door unceremoniously.
Josie returned to her car and brought up the last bag, less winded this time. There was no welcoming committee, so she tried the knob with her free hand. It turned easily, and the door swung open.
Evelyn and Helen had dumped the contents of both bags of yarn all over the couch and the small dining table. Their hands flew through the skeins of yarn, touching and sorting. “Ahem.” Josie cleared her throat. The ladies didn't look up until she said, louder, “Evelyn? Helen?”
Evelyn looked up, her eyes glassy with yarn lust. Her gaze fell on the third sack. “Just bring that over here, will you, and dump it on the couch with the rest? We'll go through it. And thanks,” she added, gratitude clearly an afterthought.
Josie couldn't fault her. She got the same feeling about handbags and designer clothes.
She left the two ladies singlemindedly pawing through the piles. They didn't seem to notice when she opened the door and shut it behind her.
Fifteen minutes later, her car rolled to a stop. She inhaled with a whoosh when she saw a strange truck in Eb's driveway, then let it out when Mitch appeared on the front steps. He raised his hand in a wave as she parked and met him on the porch.
“Sorry,” he said. “I hope I didn't scare you. I've got my grandfather's truck this afternoon. Needed to go to the feed store, and we can fit more in the truck than in my SUV.”
“Nope, not scared,” she fibbed.