Scales of Justice Read online

  As I walked up the beach to where I had placed my stuff, I realized that I had drifted quite a long way. When I was still pretty far away, I began to hear barking. I started to run, despite feeling self-conscious that I was bouncing in my low-cut suit, but I wasn’t going to stop if my pup needed me. Was Mr. Woogles in trouble?

  When I got there, I saw what the commotion was. There was a sand crab walking across the edge of Woogie’s blanket, and my proud beagle was protecting his territory with loud barks and quick jumps around the creature. He was moving so much that the poor crab didn’t know which direction to go in. I stepped under the umbrella and shooed the crab away. As I did so, I realized that there was a pair of eyes that had apparently been watching me as I ran, bouncing up the beach.

  It was Jared in swim trunks—truly a remarkable sight. And he was smiling and heading right for me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Hey, Pepper,” Jared said. He was acting suspiciously friendly, which was a change from the way he’d behaved last time I’d seen him. “You’re looking good.”

  Was I supposed to thank him? I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t answer.

  He looked a little uncomfortable. “Um... I wanted to talk to you about, um, the accident. I didn’t want you to think that I had anything to do with it, just because I got mad. I got mad because I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Man. Had he always been this dull, or was he just nervous? Well, whatever was going on in his head, I was going to take advantage of the opportunity to start my investigation. I smiled at him. “No problem, Jared. In fact, I’d love to talk to you about the accident. I want to get some facts about the situation because I’m going to see whether or not I can help Dr. D—”

  He looked confused. “Dr. D?”

  “Dr. D’Amore. The owner of the house.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. My boss, Shrimpy, just calls him the owner. Or the doctor. He seems like an okay guy.”

  He was taking those quick glances down at my cleavage that men did, thinking we wouldn’t notice. It made me remember how flattered I had once been to attract the attention of such a gorgeous man. Funny how different it felt to be talking to him now. He was still hot—especially in his trunks—but I wasn’t feeling anything at all.

  I suddenly realized that several of the people on the little clusters of towels and umbrellas on the beach were looking at us. It wasn’t very crowded today, despite the warm weather, but there were enough onlookers who seemed interested in our conversation that I thought it would be better to take it inside.

  “Give me fifteen minutes to get back home and get out of this wet bathing suit, and then you can come over, and we’ll talk.”

  He looked relieved. He nodded, and I started to collect my stuff. “You want some help with that?” he asked.

  Was he talking about helping me carry my umbrella, or was there a leer in his expression? Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned taking off my suit. But it’s funny how my opinion of his attentions had changed radically. And it wasn’t all because of his behavior. Even if he hadn’t been obnoxious the other night, it wasn’t just because of the hamburger fiasco that I had lost interest in him. It was because I had much more interest in Logan, misguided though that might be, and a major curiosity about whether or not Dr. D was interested in me. Jared was in third place and fading fast.

  “No thanks. I got it.” I put the beach umbrella under one arm and the towels over the other and slipped my wrist through Mr. W’s leash. He was a good doggy and wouldn’t pull. But I needed to make sure he was under my control while we crossed the road to my house.

  I realized that Woogie was giving me signals of unease. He hadn’t barked at Jared, but he had inched patiently closer to me while we were talking. My sweet beagle was not a fan, and he was making sure I was protected. As a matter of fact, he never had been a fan of Jared. I should have paid more attention to Mr. W’s reaction weeks ago.

  As soon as Mr. Woogles and I got back into the house, I gave him a big bowl of water and his food. I hustled upstairs and jumped into the shower, feeling really good after the swim. Letting the warm water pour over me, I stood there for a minute, planning how to approach Jared. I needed to get information from him that would help me crack the case. I wanted to exonerate Dr. D, but more than that, I wanted to make sure I was in the clear.

  I would have to walk a careful line between being friendly and not too encouraging. I was still getting over my foolishness at having been interested in Jared at all. He was great to look at, but he didn’t have much to offer in the brains department. How had I overlooked that?

  I guess I had been so mesmerized by his attention that I hadn’t expected much in the way of conversation. It had been too long since I had had a boyfriend, as my mother was always quick to remind me. She was like something out of another century, always sniffing around for a marriageable suitor for her single daughter. It was downright embarrassing.

  There hadn’t really been anybody very serious since Logan in high school. And I wondered now why that was. Had I just been too busy, working fifty plus hours a week at the law firm? Or was I somehow afraid to get involved?

  The breakup with Logan had been my idea. Looking back to it now, I wasn’t exactly sure why I thought we needed to break it off. We were seniors in high school, and I was going to be a professional jazz singer. Apparently I’d thought I had to drop the small-town boy before I got rich and famous.

  The instant we split up, Paula had stepped in and snatched him up. I think I took that as proof that he had never really cared much about me at all. That our three years of building trust—and what seemed like love—were something I couldn’t count on. Something that could disappear in an instant when the guy saw another cute girl. Maybe I had hardened my heart after that.

  But it was all so long ago. Who knows what I had been thinking about as an eighteen-year-old?

  My memories were interrupted by the sound of barking from downstairs. I rinsed off quickly, toweled my hair dry, and pulled on some shorts and a top. One great side effect of not caring about Jared anymore was that I didn’t have to primp for him. I wasn’t trying to impress.

  I headed down the big staircase in bare feet and saw that Woogie was sitting in front of the door. He turned and looked at me as though to complain about my taking so long.

  “Sorry, Mr. Woogles! Here I am at last.”

  I opened the door just as Jared had his finger on the doorbell for what was probably the second or third time. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Come on in.”

  He smiled. “No problem.” He was clearly on his best behavior today. I led him into the kitchen, my loyal beagle following. I had the feeling that Woogie was eager to keep his eye on me.

  I set out iced tea for both of us and grabbed a notepad.

  “That looks pretty serious. Are you working for the police?” Jared asked, looking worried.

  “No. But if I can assist the police by finding out pertinent facts, of course I’ll share them. As an attorney, I’m an officer of the court. And considering that I’m under some suspicion myself, I’d like to find out as much as I can about what happened in connection with Winthrop’s death in order to clear my own name.”

  Jared still looked nervous, which was fine with me.

  “So can you give me the names of the other workers who are doing construction on the house?” I asked.

  He frowned. “I don’t want to get anybody in trouble...”

  “You won’t be getting anyone in trouble if you just give me simple information. There are other ways I could find out who’s been working on the house, but this is the most direct.”

  He nodded. “I know the construction workers’ names. The ones who work for Shrimpy. But there are electrical and plumbing guys who come in and out. I don’t know their names.”

  “That’s fine. Just tell me about anyone you worked with on a regular basis.”

  After a little more coaxing, he gave me a list of fifteen names and
a general idea of how long the work had been going on and what the typical hours were. He seemed pretty relaxed until I got to the subject of the balcony.

  “I told you, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. Nobody messed with that balcony. At least, nobody I saw. Our job was to make everything as structurally sound, and of course as safe as possible. The house is more than a hundred years old, probably just like yours, and it’s been renovated over the years, but we’ve been going over it carefully to make sure it’s up to code. And it is. Or it’s going to be, before the place opens. The boss was really clear on that. No cutting corners.”

  “Was there anything in particular about the balcony that was unusual?”

  “Well, I never noticed anything about it. And once the guy died, we weren’t allowed back inside the house. I mean, the whole house is old enough that some things are rusted or rotten, or just plain don’t work the way they should.”

  “So have you had to do anything special because of the age of the house?”

  “The only thing was that the owner, the doctor, kept saying to keep everything the same. He said he wanted the ‘charm’ of the place preserved. Which strikes me as nuts. But it isn’t my house, so...”

  I nodded, wondering whether the desire to keep the place as charming as possible might have contributed to the dangerous condition of the balcony. And what was I going to do if something that Jared told me seemed to implicate Dr. D?

  He put his arms on the table in front of us. “Now that I think of it, the doctor used to come down sometimes during the day while we were working and wander around taking pictures of old stuff that he liked in the house. There were a bunch of antique parts and furniture—junk, mostly, if you ask me—in the attic and in the basement, and he was real excited about using it to keep the house ‘historically accurate,’ as he called it.”

  “What kind of junk?” I thought about the old curtain tiebacks that I’d found in my house and was trying to reattach.

  “Parts of things. Like an old sink from the original kitchen. Hardware that must have been used for something... maybe some of it came from that balcony. The doctor thought maybe he could get some kind of historical certification. Wanted to get a plaque to put on the door, I guess.” Jared leaned back and took a sip of his iced tea. “If I owned a house like that, I’d be tearing out all that old stuff and making everything brand new.”

  I scribbled some more notes and then put down my pen. “I really appreciate this, Jared.”

  He gave me a wolfish grin. “Do you appreciate it enough to give me another chance?”

  I was caught off guard. I definitely did not want to give him another chance. Smiling, I shook my head, feigning regret. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. Since I’m doing legal work for Dr. D, I need to avoid the appearance of a conflict of interest.”

  He looked a little puzzled by that, but I pushed on. “So let’s take a rain check on anything like that. When the investigation is closed and there’s no more question about what happened to Roger Winthrop, we can revisit the possibilities.”

  I could tell that he was part impressed and part confused by my response. I ushered him gently to the door and said goodbye. As soon as I closed it, Mr. Woogles planted himself in front of me with a stern look and gave me a single sharp bark.

  I knelt down and gave him a hug. “I agree completely, Woogles. We are absolutely done with Jared Grant.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I spotted Liz Cantwell as I was moving at a slow jog with Mr. Woogles up the beach. A very slow jog. I definitely needed more jogging. Or something. All of that time spent sitting in my office chair trying to advertise my services—in a very classy way—was starting to show. I didn’t know if word was spreading about my law firm, but my hips were certainly spreading.

  Mr. Woogles barked happily as soon as I saw her—her scent must have reached him through the salty air. There was no one else on the beach at this point, so I released him from his leash and let him run up ahead.

  I laughed when I saw Liz reach into her pocket and give Mr. W one of her doggy treats. Woogs came running back to me panting, as if to tell me that he had found a friend. When Liz reached me, I smiled and chided her.

  “You’re spoiling my doggy. He’s gotten to the point where he expects a treat every time he sees you.”

  She laughed herself and bent down to scratch Mr. W around the ears. “Well, he should expect one. I try to always have treats for my dog friends. Especially Mr. Woogles.”

  She was carrying a mesh bag that was filled to bursting with seashells. She saw me staring at it, and she gave me a sheepish look. “I never met a shell I didn’t want to take home. Every year I collect them, and every year I think that I’ve found the most beautiful shell this beach can offer. But then I get too many, and at some point during the winter I have to unload most of them. Then I start all over again the next spring. It’s some kind of affliction.”

  I nodded and then leaned over to pick up a rock shimmering from the water that had just receded. “Well, my addiction is heart-shaped rocks. I seem to find them everywhere.”

  She looked directly at me then, her nimbus of white hair floating in the breeze around her neck. “I believe you may be looking for love, Pepper.”

  “Um... probably? But currently I find myself pulled in several different directions.”

  She raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

  I looked past her and saw that someone else was jogging down the beach. A young woman in a bathing suit. She didn’t look familiar, so I called Mr. Woogles over and clipped his leash back on. “My love life is ripe for discussion, but what I really need to do is talk to you about the death of Winthrop. I could use another perspective on what’s really happening here. I need to get to the bottom of this.”

  “I don’t have any particular expertise,” Liz said mildly, “but I’m happy to be a sounding board.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Do you want to sit for a minute?” I pointed toward a driftwood trunk at the edge of the beach.

  “Sure.” She followed me over to the log, which had been polished smooth by the ocean and was so slippery that I had to anchor my bare toes in the sand to keep from sliding forward. I hooked Woogie’s leash up to one of the short knobby branches that stuck out from the end of the trunk.

  I started to name people who were probably under suspicion in connection with Winthrop’s death when Liz interrupted to say, “And don’t forget me.”

  I looked at her. “Okay, technically you’re still on the list because Winthrop was trying to boot you out of your rental, but I don’t think Logan considers you a suspect in any serious way. And I know, even though I’m connected to Jared—or I was, anyway—Logan doesn’t think I would set up Winthrop to fall off a balcony....” I trailed off when I saw the young girl in the bikini getting close enough to hear.

  As she kept running toward us, Woogie started to bark and strain against his leash. I guess he found her approach threatening, although it was unusual for him to react that way.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Woogles,” I said in a calming voice.

  When she got close, she slowed down and came over to us, carefully skirting around Mr. W. “You’re not supposed to have dogs off the leash on the beach, you know,” she said.

  I had my hand on Woogie’s collar by now, and he was sitting politely beside me. But I could tell that he was tense. And I could feel my own temper rising. “As you can see, he’s on a leash.”

  “But he wasn’t before. I saw you. You were letting him run free.”

  “So... do you plan me to turn me in? To the sheriff?”

  “Do you mean your boyfriend? I don’t think that would be enough to get you in trouble. He’d take your side. And speaking of being on your side, who’s the side guy? Your sheriff boyfriend, or your body-builder boyfriend?”

  At that, my mouth opened. Who the heck was she to talk to me that way, and why was she so angry? Before I could form a clever comeback, she start
ed to jog away, and as she departed, I remembered that she had waited on me and Jared during our one and only dinner at the Mermaid’s Tail. So that’s what she meant by my body-builder boyfriend. It came back to me now that she had been openly flirtatious with him that whole evening.

  Still, it seemed bizarre that she was acting in such a nasty way to me. Just before she got too far away for us to hear her, she turned her head and yelled over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t turn you in for having your dog off the leash. I would say that murder is a little more serious.”

  With that, she headed off, her heels kicking up the sand. Mr. Woogles expressed his vehement objections by barking at her retreating figure and pulling away from my loose grip on his collar. Only the fact that his leash was still wound around one of the branches of our driftwood log kept him from running after her.

  I turned to Liz, who was looking at least as stunned as I was. “Who the heck is she?” she asked, “and what does she have against you?”

  I shook my head. “Strange... I barely know her. Her name is Scarlett. She works as a server at the Mermaid’s Tail, and she waited on us when I was there with Jared once. She seemed pretty interested in him. So maybe she’s just jealous.”

  I stared after her. Woogs had stopped barking and was sniffing around in the sand. “Also, I just remembered that Pops Patterson said she works part-time for him in the afternoons. Apparently she climbs ladders and does some of the physical stuff that he can’t do anymore.”

  Liz nodded. “Well, I’m glad he’s got some help, even if she doesn’t seem very pleasant. Pops has been a fixture—he and his store—since I was a little girl. I worry about him sometimes. He’s pretty old to be handling that business all by himself.”

  I nodded. “No question about that. I was in to see him recently, and he seemed not only frail but forgetful. You’re right to be worried. I wish there were somebody who could take over the work for him. Or buy the store out. He’s trying to hang on.”