Chapter 23
J
osie walked briskly down Main Street, pausing only slightly at the door to the ladies' secret hideout. Better to go around back and use the alley door. One of Cora's keys must fit it. Josie was aware that she was breaking her promise to Mitch again, but it was only temporary. Once she got upstairs she would call Evelyn and ask her to come in.
Josie tried several keys on Cora's ring before she found the one that worked. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her, and began her march up the two flights of moderately steep stairs. At least this time she wasn't carrying awkward bags of yarn.
She knocked softly on the door to Apartment 4. When no one answered, she tried several keys until the door swung open.
The couch, chair, and coffee table were still covered in piles of yarn, but now the piles were neatly sorted by color and style. There was no need to call Evelyn. She was in the control room with her back to the door, her headphones firmly in place. A video feed played on one of the monitors in front of her. Evelyn stiffened, then turned around slowly. “Josie! You gave me a fright. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, “but I'm not sure I want to know. I didn't see your car in the alley.”
“It's parked at Helen's house, a block away. She convinced me it would be better to leave it there and come on foot. She's probably right, even though Main Street is dead as a post.”
Josie replied, “I was hoping to use your Wi-Fi to send an e-mail?” She showed her friend the laptop she'd brought with her.
Evelyn seemed to relax. “Of course. Set up anywhere you like. The password is Bondgirl61.” She went back to her surveillance.
Josie sat down at the small table that held the first computer she'd seen yesterday, the one that had been playing the loop of Josie herself in Rusty's car repair shop. She moved that laptop aside and opened her own. As she waited for her machine to boot up, she watched the other screen. The camera remained trained on Rusty's counter. He stood behind it, copper-red head down, typing. There was no sound. Perhaps this splinter group of the Dorset Falls Charity Knitters Association had not yet bought sound recording equipment from Spygrannies.com. Rusty looked up, and his face fell into a frown when a woman approached the counter. Although the woman's back was to the camera, Josie would have bet money it was Courtney, Trey's wife. She put her keys on the counter, leaving her hand out . . . why? Just in case he wanted to pick it up and kiss it? Josie couldn't tell if this was old footage or new. She shook her head and returned to her own computer.
She pulled up her e-mail, deleting all the junk as the flash drive engaged with a soft whir.
Otto,
she typed.
Am so excited about these new designs. Let me know what you think. I should be back next week, and I'll finish the collection.
She attached the file with the drawings, paused a moment, and hit
send
. There. It was out of her hands.
A red light blinked from the coffeemaker in the kitchen. She got up, poured herself a cup, and sat back down. Reaching into her tote bag, she pulled out the instruction manual Helen had given to her yesterday. The one that explained the tracking devices Cora, Evelyn, and Helen had somehow managed to place on the cars driven by members of the Humphries family.
She clicked on the desktop icon on the Lair laptop. Scanning the shortcuts lined up in a neat row along the left side, she double clicked on the one marked
GrannyTrack
. A screen opened up, and her heart sank. Evelyn had been right. This program might not be terribly user-friendly. Still, she'd give it a whirl.
Thumbing through the pages of the manual, she skipped over the section on “Installing the GrannyTrack Device.” Presumably, they'd figured that part out. Ah, here it was. “Downloading Data.” She followed the instructions, which turned out to be not that difficult for someone who had grown up around computers, like Josie. Punching in a few more keystrokes, she was rewarded when three columns of data filled the screen.
Each column contained dates and times written in military format, along with what appeared to be GPS coordinates. When the columns finished populating, a pop-up appeared on the screen.
Interpret Coordinates?
Sure. Why not? She didn't bother to look up what that meant in the manual, just clicked
Yes
. The columns shifted, and a line appeared in orange under each entry. Street addresses.
Josie sat back, satisfied and horrified at the same time. She'd figured this out fairly easily. But it was unsettling to think that this kind of technology was available to just anybody. There could be a tracking device on her car right now, and she wouldn't even know it.
She scanned the data more closely, then shook her head. Evelyn would be a pretty incompetent surveiller if she handed Josie the instruction manual and asked her to download data on herself. But that didn't mean somebody else couldn't have done it. She tried to put the thought out of her head. There was no discernible reason anyone would want to be following her.
Josie took a sip of her coffee, then got up and went into the control room. She touched Evelyn lightly on the shoulder. The older woman started, then punched a button on her keyboard, which paused the screen in front of her. Evelyn removed her headphones and spun around to Josie.
Her eyes lit up. “Did you figure it out?”
“I did. I'm not sure I know what it means, but you'll want to take a look at it.”
Evelyn rose and hustled over to the screen. Josie pointed to one of the columns. “I assume there's one column for each car, but I'm not sure how we'll tell which one is which.”
Evelyn leaned in, adjusting her reading glasses. The brightly beaded chain around each earpiece swung as she did so. “Easy,” she declared. “Column 1 is Trey. See where he's mostly been the last few days? To his office at the insurance agency and home. Column 2 must be Diantha. She's made a number of trips to 121 Main Street. That's the town hall.”
“So the third column must be Courtney. She's been all over. Isn't that the address of Rusty's car repair shop? And look how many times she's been to this address in Uncasville, wherever that is.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes. “That's Mohegan Sun. The casino. Personally, I prefer Foxwoods, but to each her own. She's probably having lunch there, then heading over to the outlet malls. That seems to be her favorite pastime.”
“So have you caught anything on video?” Josie said. She'd hoped to find something she could use to tip off the police, give them something to go on, without actually revealing the existence of any of these tapes and digital files. She didn't want to blow the ladies' cover or, worse yet, get them into legal trouble.
“No.” Evelyn frowned. “Rusty seems to be resisting Courtney's advances. I'm glad for his wife, of course, but it's a little disappointing. We wanted dirt on Courtney and Trey to try to disgrace Diantha, but so far, we've got nothing.”
Which meant Josie had nothing. Well, it had been worth a try. She looked at her watch. It was time to go to the hospital to see about Eb.
Josie walked back to the general store to wait for Mitch. She was sitting at a table tapping her fingers, thinking about what she'd just seen, when he walked in. “Ready to go?” he asked.
“As I'll ever be. I miss Eb.”
Mitch grinned as he helped her into her jacket. “I do too. And it's been tough keeping Eb's whereabouts secret from my grandfather. Although from the smug look he's been wearing the last couple of days, I'm pretty sure he knows.”
“I just need to stop at my car and pick up the bag of clean clothes I packed for him.”
Mitch drove around the block and parked in front of Josie's car. She got out and popped open her trunk, giving a long look to the façade of Miss Marple Knits. Its dark, empty windows contrasted with the bright blue front door, and she felt a pang of sadness. The town meeting was tonight. The meeting that would decide the fate of this old building. She gritted her teeth in frustration. There wasn't a darn thing she could do to save it. The town council was apparently stacked in favor of Trey's petition, and even though Diantha would have to abstain from the vote due to her relationship with Trey, from everything Josie had heard around town, the vote was a shoo-in. She wouldn't even be allowed to get up and speak her mind since she wasn't a resident of Dorset Falls.
She pulled the overnight bag out of her trunk. Something farther back caught her eye. Oh, right. The box of yarn Rusty had given her, the one from the trunk of Cora's wrecked car. Josie pulled it forward. When she got back, she would run this box up to the Lair. Josie had a feeling that there would never be a saturation point for Evelyn and Helen. No amount of yarn could satisfy their lust. She closed the lid, wondering if this was how crack dealers felt.
“The town meeting is tonight,” Josie said.
Mitch nodded, pulling out of the parking spot. “I plan to be there. You coming?”
“There doesn't seem to be much point. They wouldn't let me speak. And even if they did, nobody knows me here. What could I possibly say to sway a town council whose mind is already made up?” She blew out a frustrated breath.
Mitch was silent for a moment. “You might not be able to speak, but there are plenty of people who could. I've already made some phone calls asking people to attend the meeting. They don't have to listen to us, of course, but at least we'll have tried.”
“But,” she said, catching her lower lip between her teeth, “as ugly as it's going to beâand I'm just playing devil's advocate hereâmaybe the town would be better off with a restaurant on the corner. It would create jobs. It might even bring in people from the highway, if signs were put up.” She didn't believe it, but felt like she had to put it out there.
“Nope.” She turned toward Mitch as he shook his head. “A fast-food restaurant won't save this town.”
Josie felt relief and sadness at the same time. “Can anything?”
“Bringing back small businesses to Main Street, that's what we need.”
“Small specialty shops,” she mused. “Like Miss Marple Knits. To attract tourists. Leaf peepers.”
“Skiers. There's an old ski slope a couple of miles north. I've always hoped someone would come in with some money and get it going again. And we've got an old sleigh out in one of our barns. I'd love to fix that up and give sleigh rides in the winter.”
Josie smiled. Such a lovely picture they were painting of a charming Connecticut Main Street, restored to its former bustling glory. If there were a restaurant or two, and enough lodging, a boutique hotel, perhaps, and some bed-and-breakfasts, people would come up from the city for weekend getaways. It wasn't so far out of the realm of possibility.
And tonight's town council vote could take away that potential forever.
Josie was surprised when they pulled into the hospital parking lot, she'd been so lost in thought. Nurse Capocci waved at them as they passed her on the way to the elevators.
“Let's hope he's ready to go,” Josie said.
“Eb was ready to go the minute he got here,” Mitch replied. “But the prospect of getting that cast off must have made it tolerable.”
Eb was sitting up in a chair when they got to the room. His pale, hairy legs were bare over gray slippers, one leg noticeably thinner than the other. The cast was gone.
He glared at them from under those eyebrows, which had not gotten any less bushy in the time he'd been here. “About time you showed up. I've been ready for an hour.”
A doctor Josie had not met before came in and stuck out his hand. “Doctor Robbins,” he said in a hearty voice. “The orthopedist.”
Josie took the proffered hand, which the doctor pumped up and down. “So my uncle is good to go?” She glanced at Eb, who was fidgeting in the chair.
“I'm only good to go if you brought me some damn clothes,” Eb growled.
Mitch held up the bag so Eb could see it. “Josie thinks of everything.”
“Hmmph,” Eb said. “Give'em to me so I can get dressed.”
The doctor chuckled. “Hold on a moment, Mr. Lloyd. I need to give you your discharge instructions. Which you will follow,” he added, his voice suddenly taking on a commanding timbre, “to the letter, unless you want to end up back in a cast. And next time, I'll make you stay in it longer.”
Eb sat there, frowning. “Out with it, then.” Turning to Josie, he said, “You take notes.”
The doctor rattled off some instructions. “But don't worry about remembering everything. It's all written down.” He handed a sheet of paper to Josie. “Just have him get dressed, and then call the nurse. And stop at the window on your way out and have whoever's on duty give you an appointment for physical therapy and a follow-up in two weeks.”
As soon as the doctor left, Eb was on his feet. The man was wiry and agile, even at diminished capacity. She bet he was a force to be reckoned with when he was at full throttle. Eb grabbed the handle of the overnight bag and raced for the bathroom.
“Guess he's ready to go,” Mitch drawled.
Josie laughed. “Guess so.” She read the instructions. “Nothing too onerous here. Ooh, he'll love this part: Use of a cane is recommended for the next two weeks until strength returns to the muscles of the leg.”
The bathroom door opened, and Eb stepped out, fully dressed, in a pair of dark blue, sturdy-looking pants, a green T-shirt with a yellow John Deere tractor logo on the front, and a blue and white plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned over the top. He wouldn't win any fashion awards, but he looked comfortable. “Where's my cap?” he accused.