Scales of Justice Read online

  “I can understand that,” Liz said. “But I don’t know what he can be hanging on for. I don’t think there’s anybody who’s going to take over a century-old hardware store.” She reached over to pet Mr. W, who had calmed down once Scarlett was out of sight. “So what are you doing for the spa owner? Are you working for him now?”

  “He asked me to represent him in connection with the attempts to paint his business as something illegal. He wants someone local to keep an eye on this in Misty. But we haven’t formalized it yet.”

  “So you’re not only a minor suspect in what looks like an intentional murder, you’re also representing the guy who must be the prime suspect.” Liz reached out to touch my arm. “Pepper, you know you’re putting yourself in the middle of a situation that might be dangerous, right?”

  I gazed out at the moving water before I turned my eyes back to her. “I suppose I am.”

  “Why?”

  “So many reasons. I want to help Logan. I need to clear my name. I’m dying to find the actual culprit. I even feel some kind of a crazy debt to poor dead Roger Winthrop, even though he wasn’t a good man.” I shook my head. “Plus, I’ve got a highly inadvisable client crush on Dr. Angelo D’Amore.”

  Liz raised her eyebrows. “Is that all?”

  I laughed. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “I just wonder if you’ve named the real reason.”

  I tried not to sound defensive. “So what do you think that would be?”

  “You like to win. And you want people to know it.”

  At that, I smiled. “You’re right. I just can’t rest until I’ve solved the mystery.”

  “Please be careful, Pepper.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  After I met Liz on the beach, I headed into town. I was tired of simply talking about this case. I needed to take some action.

  Mr. W and I were walking down the street, heading to Pops Peterson’s store, when I saw someone walk out. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

  I was startled when Woogie began to pull at his leash and growl in a menacing tone, straining toward the man down the road. I tugged at the leash gently to calm him down. “Woogs. What’s wrong? Is that somebody we know?”

  I stared at the man as he walked away. He was short and wide and wearing a baseball cap. Maybe if I’d been able to see his face I would have known him. I shrugged and headed to the hardware store. As I swung the door open, the overhead bells chimed. A relic from an earlier era. The musty smell of old things greeted me when I walked in.

  “Coming,” Pops yelled from somewhere farther back in the store. When he emerged, I could see that he was wiping his hands on his work apron. “Well, hello, Pepper! How are you?” He bent down slowly to pet Mr. W on the head. “And how’s your little buddy here?” I could practically hear his bones groaning as he straightened up.

  “Well, I wish I could say we were better, Pops.” I gave him a small grin. “As you probably know, I’m still on the suspect list for Roger Winthrop’s death. So it’s not great to have that hanging over my head. Especially since I’m trying to get my law practice going here in Misty.”

  “You’re going to go to law school? I never met a lady lawyer,” he said, furrowing his brow. “Well, I wish you luck. Maybe you’ll be the first.”

  “Pops, I’ve already been to law school. I’ve been an attorney for ten years at this point. And there are lots of us ‘lady lawyers’ now.”

  “Is that so?” He sat down beside his cash register. “Well, good for you. That’s wonderful.”

  “I came down today because I wanted to ask you about Scarlett, Pops. The girl who works for you?”

  He nodded. “Sure. She’s a sweet thing. Very helpful.”

  I had a different impression of her, but I wasn’t going to share my thoughts about that with him. “Has she been working for you for a while?”

  “I couldn’t say for sure. I’m not so good with time these days. Maybe... a month... or more?” He pulled on his chin as though tugging at an invisible beard. “Which reminds me. I wanted to tell you about that fella that just left.”

  “Oh. The short man?”

  “Yes. That’s the one. He wanted to talk to Scarlett, you know. But I told him she wasn’t here today.” Pops shook his head. “There was something I was going to tell you.” He looked at me for a minute. “I remember. That’s the man who came in asking about old parts for old houses. Before you came in last time and asked me about your old house. Now let me just see if I can remember what he wanted...”

  He had my attention, and even Woogie seemed to be listening. “He wasn’t asking about a balcony, was he?”

  Pops shook his head. “A balcony? Maybe. It was something about a spindle. A spindle for a railing. Maybe for a porch? He wanted to see if I had any old iron spindles.”

  I leaned down toward him, and I could feel Woogles coming in close beside me. He must have sensed my interest. “So he was looking for an old iron spindle to hold up a balustrade, is that right? Do you know when he came in to ask about it, Pops?”

  “Oh. I’m not sure. I think it was... a few weeks ago? But then he never came back in. Until today, of course.” He looked up at me. “And he didn’t say anything about spindles or porches. He was just looking for Scarlett. Seemed kind of agitated. Peculiar man.”

  I felt my mouth getting dry. “Is it possible that he came in when Scarlett was here but you weren’t? And she helped him?”

  Pops nodded. “Maybe. I couldn’t say. You’d have to talk to Scarlett for that.”

  “I’d like to. Do you know when she’ll be in next?”

  “Well, she should have been in here today. She usually works on Wednesdays. But she called to tell me she was sick. Didn’t know when she’d come in next.” He nodded. “She’s a nice kid, though. She’ll come back when she can.” He pushed his palms against his knees and stood up very slowly. “Good thing, too. Because I can’t go climbing ladders the way I used to. I really need her help.”

  I reached into my bag and pulled out a business card. “Pops, I’m leaving you my phone number. Please call me as soon as you know when Scarlett will be in next. Or if she just shows up, call me then. I really need to talk to her.”

  He smiled and leaned down to pet Mr. W again. “I sure will, Pepper. You take care now. And take care of this sweet beagle. I wish I had a treat for him. When my wife was alive, she always made sure we had a jar of treats for the dogs.” He laughed. “For all I know, there’s still a jar of doggy treats sitting up on a dusty shelf somewhere that I haven’t been able to climb up to in twenty years...” He slapped his knee at the thought.

  “Okay, Pops. Please let me know when you hear from Scarlett. I’ll be waiting for your phone call.”

  He walked slowly with me to the door and opened it, the bells ringing merrily as I stepped out into the hot sun, feeling somewhere between elated and confused about what I had just heard.

  And as I did, I finally remembered who the short man was. The baseball cap had thrown me off. It was Shrimpy, the boss on the construction crew for Dr. D’s spa.

  So Shrimpy had been looking for iron spindles to hold up a railing. Was this mystery beginning to come together?

  Chapter Twenty

  I woke up when I sensed the bright splash of sun across my eyes. That and the chilly nose of my pup nuzzling me on the cheek. “Okay, okay, Mr. Woogles. I get it. You want to go out.”

  I stretched, reaching my arms high above my head and pushing with my toes to the very bottom of the mattress. My beagle, convinced for now that I was actually getting up, hopped off the bed and onto the rug. I heard his toenails clicking against the hardwood when he stepped into the hallway.

  It hit me how much I was enjoying my beautiful new house. The view of the beach right across the street was a magnificent sight to wake up to every morning. Even though some of my “new” furniture was secondhand, bought from local tag sales to fill out the many rooms in this old home, it was all charming in a live
d-in way. And it was mine. I had never had this much space, and it was a luxury.

  So much to be thankful for. The beach. The house. Mr. W’s chilly-nose wake-ups. My friends... Bryce and Sergio and Liz. Having my mom nearby, though that was sort of a mixed bag—a joy and a nuisance. But still, good.

  So many great opportunities that I had long dreamed about. My voice, and my voice teacher, and more chances to perform. My own law practice, which was turning out to be a lot more interesting—if more challenging—than the low-level drudgery I’d been doing at the Manhattan firm I recently ditched.

  And then there was my confused tangle of emotions about Logan, who still felt like the love that might have been. But Logan was married. And until I was sure that he was free to pursue a relationship, I wasn’t free to encourage him. As to my sometimes-next-door neighbor, Dr. D... he was a man who was probably way out of my league, despite the way he made my heart beat faster. And more than that, he was currently a client. So getting involved romantically was a big no-no, for lots of reasons. I was working on convincing my heart of that.

  Then there was the little matter of the mysterious murder that had taken place next door. If only that weren’t hanging over my head, life would be nearly perfect.

  I heard toenails clicking back into the room and a dog tail thumping. Mr. Woogles gave one sharp bark, and I turned to him from my spot on the bed, opening my eyes. “Okay, Woogs. Now I’m really getting up.”

  I swung my legs out of bed and felt for my slippers. “Let’s go over today’s agenda. First, I need to draft that will for Mr. and Mrs. Youngman. And it has to be good, because this is the first one I’ve done for somebody from Misty. I want them to feel like they got a bargain price and an excellent product so they’ll spread the word that I’m capable, reliable, and affordable.”

  I looked at Woogs as I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. “Hey, that’s not a bad slogan, is it? Picture that on my website: ‘Pepper Sullivan and Associates: Capable. Reliable. Affordable. All that, and she sings!’ I like it. What do you think?”

  Mr. Woogles looked up at me in approval and barked. At least, I think it was approval. I walked back into the bedroom and pulled on my temporary clothes, the ones I wear when I’m just going to tend to dog duties.

  Still shuffling along in my slippers, I headed down the stairs and let Mr. Woogles out into the backyard from the kitchen door. He dashed out remarkably quickly, making me feel guilty about not getting out of bed faster. I vowed to take him on a good long walk later in the day.

  As I watched from the kitchen, he headed for his favorite tree. It was the same ancient tree he’d been sniffing around and digging under since we moved in a few months ago. Finally he’d discovered an ancient heirloom that helped clear up the mystery of this house—and why everyone thought it was haunted. If there was a spirit still in residence, she hadn’t bothered us since, and I figured that Mr. W had put his paws on what she’d been searching for.

  When he came in, I fed him and ran upstairs for a shower. First work, then singing, then my reward—and Woogie’s—a stroll on the beach. I got myself set up in front of my computer with a mug of mint tea and a muffin. After looking into Connecticut inheritance law for the Youngmans’ will, I dictated some of the specific bequests they had identified, working from a customized template I found online. Law school was ten years behind me now, and it was amazing how rapidly things had changed. A lot of information was more readily available on the internet now, making my work much more efficient.

  I wiggled my feet under Mr. Woogles, and he looked up at me. “Okay, Woogie, I’ve put in some real work for the day. Time to sing.” He looked at me doubtfully. “Don’t worry. As soon as I’ve done some vocal exercises and a song or two, we’ll get out on the beach and you can take a run. You can even get all wet and spray me, and I won’t complain.” He barked happily. “Well, I won’t complain too much. Anyway, you deserve it. You’ve been very patient today.”

  I stood up and stretched, then made my way through the kitchen and to the back door, letting him out. “I’m going to make myself a sandwich now. And remember, I can see you out of the kitchen window. So please be a good doggy and stay right nearby.”

  I’d been thinking about whether or not to invest in an electric fence to keep Mr. W in the yard. He was really obedient, but there were occasional distractions that he couldn’t resist, like another dog across the street or kids playing on the beach. I wasn’t worried about him hurting anybody else, but if he decided to dash across Waterview Boulevard and a car wasn’t alert for an impulsive beagle, that could be catastrophic. Our scenic road overlooking Long Island Sound was a popular place for folks to cruise.

  But my big old mansion meant a big old yard, and the electric fence would be expensive. I didn’t relish the idea of taking on that additional cost. And yet... Mr. Woogles was worth it. One thing the fence wouldn’t do was keep anything else out. Just as that thought came into my head, I looked through the kitchen window and saw that my beagle was racing toward the front yard and out of my sight. Uh-oh.

  I put down the bread I was slicing and headed to the front door, hustling from the kitchen through my office/dining room and through the vestibule. When I opened the front door, I encountered a scene that made my heart beat a little faster.

  Coming through the shortcut in the hedge between his place and mine was the handsome Dr. D, and I watched as he got down on one knee, patting my doggy’s head and speaking to him like a true animal lover. For just a minute, I wondered what it would feel like if this kind of visit was a regular thing in my life.

  I looked down at my casual shorts and pale freckled legs and wished I were wearing something a little bit cuter. And then I mentally shook myself. I needed to think of Dr. D on a strictly professional basis. He was, after all, my client. And I needed every client I could get. I set my face into a pleasant but serious expression.

  Just as I did so, Dr. D stood up, brushed off his still-immaculate pants, and gave me a smile that was like sunshine on a cloudy day. “Hi, Pepper,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first. But I wonder if you have a minute for me?”

  I tried not to smile too widely as I said, “I always have a minute for you, Dr. D.”

  “Angelo.”

  “Angelo, of course.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I tell you what,” Angelo said. “It’s such a gorgeous day, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind walking with me while we chat? I like to get outside when I can. You know how it is living in the city—you want to take advantage of every bit of nature that you can.” He reached down to caress Woogie’s ears. “And I bet this guy would love a little romp on the beach. Am I right, Mr. Woogles?”

  Mr. W barked, and we both laughed.

  “That would be perfect. I was going to take a walk in a little bit myself.”

  “I understand that I’m interrupting your day. If you have other appointments—”

  “No worries. I put in some good hours this morning, so I can play hooky for a bit. Besides, you’re one of my clients now, so we’ll be talking legal business, right?”

  He smiled. “Absolutely.”

  “Why don’t you come inside for a minute? I have to grab my hat and sunglasses. And I’ll get some water for Woogie.” We stepped into the relative coolness of the house, and I ran upstairs to grab my wide-brimmed hat. I was trying very hard to stifle the little bubble of excitement that I was feeling at the idea of taking a walk with Dr. D.

  Angelo, I corrected myself.

  I got my hat and shades and my best sandals for the beach, then poured a little water into a bottle for Mr. Woogles. Grabbing his leash as I walked back through the house, I was happy to see my puppy and my client engaged in mutually gazing out the front window at the water.

  Angelo looked up at me as I came back into the room. “All ready to go?” he asked. “As a dermatologist, and as a friend, I’m really happy to see you in that hat on a day like today. I’m sure you’ve heard all yo
ur life about how careful fair-skinned folks like you have to be in the sun. Even somebody like me, with my Italian background, has to watch it.” He leaned down to talk to Woogie. “Isn’t your mistress smart, Mr. Woogles?”

  I smiled as I hooked the leash up to Mr. W’s collar. We headed across the street and down the steps to the beach, and I explained to Angelo that I’d been doing some research on the prevalence of stand-alone and hotel-connected spas up and down the East Coast. “I had no idea that they were so popular.”

  He nodded, visibly pleased that I had been taking the initiative in looking into the competition. “Absolutely. In fact, a consortium that owns a chain of spas gave a presentation to a small group of doctors last year. They brought us down to one of their properties. Very slick. The investment looked really solid. But I’ve always been a guy who liked to work a bit more independently, which is why I decided to open my own.”

  We’d walked just a couple of houses down from mine on the beach side of the street. As Angelo spoke, he turned to look back at his own place, still crowded with construction vehicles, but it was quiet now. Yellow police tape was still strung across the front of the property.

  “I have great plans for this spa. I think it will be a lot more personal than those big-chain locations. I think I’ll be able to offer a higher level of service... and a whole lot more charm. But first... I have to finish building the place.”

  I gazed back with him toward his property. My house seemed big to me after my tiny Manhattan studio apartment, but it was just regular-sized for a house on the water. His was enormous in comparison. I could picture what he had envisioned for himself—pampering in an intimate setting with the beauty of the beach only steps away.

  I really wanted his spa to succeed. I wanted it to succeed for him and for Misty, my hometown that had grown from a tiny place into a popular destination. The tourists could sometimes be a pain in the neck, but they were also contributing to the livelihoods of my friends here and creating a vibrant new feel for this place.