I bit my lip and concentrated on my tea.

  “Who?” Joe asked.

  “Who?” Dad asked.

  I frowned. “Let’s just say, his number one theory is even more cockamamie than Commissioner Dingle blaming Evadeen for Chance Dooley’s troubles.

  Dad scowled. “But Evadeen is to blame for Chance Dooley’s troubles, girl.”

  ***

  Charlie thumped his tail, and Notz meowed, but I must have been getting better at tip-toeing. The little guy and Cosmic Cow didn’t wake up while I did the usual staring and wondering, wondering and staring.

  I wondered about Judy Tripp. About her job. About her love life.

  “What were her secrets?” I whispered to Notz.

  In a perfect world, I could ask Sarah for more details. But Sarah was a murder suspect. The murder suspect.

  “What are Sarah’s secrets?” I whispered to Charlie.

  I blinked at the little guy. “What are yours?”

  Chapter 21

  “Her secret is out,” my father said. “She didn’t say anything to Commissioner Dingle, but Evadeen finally told Chance about that package she accepted at the beauty parlor.”

  “Is he mad at her?” Truman asked.

  “Oh my, yes.” Dad hesitated. “Girl! Don’t you want to hear this?”

  Call me Looney, but I did. I opened my eyes and sat up, and everyone got situated. Charlie made himself at home on my lap, Truman did the same on my father’s lap in the rocking car, and the stupid cat took up position at my ankles.

  “Evadeen thought honesty would be the best policy,” Bobby continued. “But Chance is most disappointed in her poor judgment.”

  “She’s naïve,” Truman reminded us.

  Dad sighed. “If only Chance had used that word instead of stupid.”

  I jumped, and Notz scolded me. “He actually called her stupid? Doesn’t he know Whooters are super-sensitive to that sort of thing?”

  Truman squirmed to look at my father. “Did she cry?”

  Yes, she did. But good old Evadeen Deyo quickly recovered her usual pluck. “She told Chance anyone would have trusted the little old lady,” Dad said. “And then she quit.”

  “Quit!?” Truman and I exclaimed.

  “It was quite unexpected,” Dad said. “But Evadeen can be very skittish.”

  ***

  Dad shoved the Hanahan Herald at me the second I entered the kitchen. “You need to read this.”

  “I need coffee,” I said. I tripped over the cat, poured two cups, added ridiculous amounts of milk to both, and handed one to the old man. I turned to the little man. “Cheerios?”

  Truman and Cosmic Cow nodded yes, and I began that little task while my father hovered beside me saying something about page three.

  “Emergency!” he mouthed.

  Oh, please. FYI, Prissy Ott’s brother Tater delivers the Herald to our doorstep every Wednesday morning. But trust me, the local rag has never reported any “emergency” of any sort.

  I served Truman his breakfast while my father continued to tap on the newspaper. I told him patience is a virtue, grabbed the paper, and was sitting down to read when the phone rang.

  “Page three,” Dad said and went to answer.

  I took a moment to admire the picture of the Hanahan High girls’ field hockey team on the front page before turning to page thre—

  “What!?” Dad said.

  I looked up.

  “Ohhh, Cassie,” he sang and jiggled the phone.

  Truman took a break from tossing Cheerios to Charlie. “Who’s that?”

  “No one,” Dad sang some more and appealed to me with very, very wide eyes.

  I shooed Notz off my lap and took the phone.

  “Sarah,” he whispered.

  “Step away from the kid,” she ordered.

  I walked into the living room. “Good morning to you, too,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “The house burned down.”

  “What!?” I screeched.

  “Step. Away. From the kid.”

  I walked out to the porch and immediately wished I had a jacket. “Judy’s? When?”

  “Well, it wasn’t last week.”

  I snarled at the completely innocent bird at the birdfeeder, and told Sarah I could do without the sarcasm, and she did change her tone. She reported that the house on Maple Street had gone up in smoke early that morning. “Neil Fleming called me at five,” she said.

  “The Hilleville fire chief?”

  “He says it looks fishy. They used an incendiary device.”

  I noticed the little guy staring at me from the kitchen window and turned away. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “A bomb.”

  “A what!? How?”

  “How should I know? I’ve never built a bomb.”

  I stared at the birds. “You seem to know an awful lot, Sarah.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  I plopped into the rocking chair farthest from the kitchen window. “Just tell me what happened, please?”

  “Neil thinks it was on a timer,” she said. “I bet it was that lamp in the living room.” She reminded me it had been the only thing left standing after the ransacking.”

  I glanced inside at a floor lamp. “What next?” I mumbled.

  “Sterling’s on his way over.”

  “Of course he is.”

  “Truman can’t see him, Cassie.”

  “Of course he can’t.”

  “So?” she asked. “Do you have a plan?”

  I glanced Wylie-ward. Of course I did.

  ***

  “Yoo-hoo! Cassie.”

  I glanced in the opposite direction and noticed Maxine Tibbitts out on her porch also. She held up the Herald. “Have you seen?”

  “The Hanahan girls beat Thornley six to three,” I hollered and rushed back inside. “Time to go!” I dropped the phone. “That was the FN. She’s waiting.”

  Truman jumped up. “For me? Right now? Before school?”

  “Right now.” I grabbed his hand, but my father caught my eye.

  “Sterling?” he mouthed.

  “Now!” I mouthed back and hustled Truman out. “The FN451z scolded me for taking this long,” I said as we crossed the lawn. “She’s anxious to meet you.”

  “The FN doesn’t talk real words.”

  We climbed the steps to Joe’s porch. “Yoo-hoo?” I called out and guided the little guy inside. “Anyone home?”

  “Cassie?” Joe came downstairs and stopped at the landing. “Oh. And Truman.”

  “That’s right!” I said. “I was telling Truman how excited the FN is to meet him.”

  “Right now? Before school?”

  “That’s right.” I pointed the little guy to the stairs and told him to follow the burping noises. “Don’t touch anything until Joe gets there.”

  Truman left, and I turned to Joe. “Keep him occupied, and whatever you do, don’t let him look out the window.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want him to see Jason’s patrol car again. We have another emergency.”

  Joe scowled. “You have a lot of those lately. Have you seen the Herald?”

  “Hanahan beat Thornley,” I said and headed out.

  Chapter 22

  I waved, and Jason stopped halfway down Leftside Lane.

  “Why are you out here?” he asked as I pulled him from his patrol car. “And why aren’t you wearing a jacket? It’s cold.”

  No kidding. I pushed the large and uncooperative cop down the dirt road. “Truman’s at Joe’s,” I said. “I don’t want him to see your car again.”

  “You knew I was coming?”

  “I did.” I grabbed his hand and tried pulling him along, but he stopped in the driveway and glanced at Maxine’s house.

  “Your neighbor wants you.”

  Maxine was rapping on her kitchen window, and holding up the Hanahan Herald. I rolled my eyes and gave Jason one final push toward the Jolly Green Giant, and my father was waiting at the door.

  “I made a fresh pot of coffee,” he said as we moved inside.

  “You already know why I’m here?” Jason asked as I pushed him toward the kitchen table.

  “Truman’s house,” I said.

  “It burned down,” Dad added as he served the coffee.

  Jason raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Sarah Bliss called.”

  “She says it’s suspicious,” I said.

  He raised the other eyebrow. “Sarah Bliss is suspicious.”

  “Oh, come on! Judy got killed, then her house got ransacked, then it burned down. Even I could tell you that fire was suspiciou—” I stopped when I noticed the expression on my father’s face.

  He turned to Jason. “You suspect Sarah?”

  “Didn’t your daughter tell you?”

  “My daughter.” Dad gave one of his I am your father looks. “Is a pro at keeping secrets.”

  “Old man! I didn’t tell you because it’s nuts. Everyone knows Sarah’s as honest and upstanding as they come.”

  “Negative.” Jason waved to get my attention. “Everyone knows you’re as honest and upstanding as they come. The jury’s still out on Sarah Bliss.”

  ***

  I ignored the funny noises my father was making. “You cannot possibly blame Sarah for that incendiary device,” I told Jason. “She doesn’t know how to build a bomb.”

  “Are you actually telling me she knows about the incendiary device?”

  “Yes, I actually am. But Sarah’s a secretary. She’s not mechanically inclined.”

  “You don’t know that,” Dad said. “We Baxters aren’t mechanical, but Sarah could be.”

  While I sighed and shook my head, Jason offered the less-than-comforting news that anyone with a modicum of mechanical skill could use info from the Internet to build a rudimentary incendiary device.

  “But how does Ms. Bliss even know it was a bomb?” he asked.

  “She’s friends with the fire chief,” I said. “She says it was hooked up to a floor lamp in the living room.”

  “What!?” Jason jumped. “She knows where it was? How does she know that, Cassie?”

  I waved a hand. “Enough about Sarah. What about Truman?”

  Jason frowned. “This latest development makes your situation even trickier than yesterday.”

  I sunk a hand into the fur at Notz’s neck. “Truman’s in danger.”

  “Girl.” Dad shoved the Hanahan Herald across the table. “You need to read this.”

  I pushed the paper back. “Not now.” I looked at Jason. “What now?”

  “We concentrate on keeping everyone safe. Let’s start with the two of you,” he said, but I insisted I’d be fine since I’m surrounded by people all day.

  I cringed at my father. “But you’re alone.”

  “No, I’m not.” Bobby pointed Wylie-ward and reminded me Joe works from home also. “He’s a hop, skip, and jump away.”

  “Great. And I’m sure the FN451z will be a big help against the boogie man.”

  “Or boogie woman,” Jason said. “But seriously, Mr. Baxter. I assure you the Vermont State Troopers will spend an inordinate amount of time patrolling Lake Bess, in particular Leftside Lane, until this gets resolved.”

  “We’re still going to worry,” I said.

  “Especially about Truman,” Dad added, but Jason insisted that Lynette Riley, the bodyguard-slash-teacher’s aide at the Lake School, was one of his best officers.

  “And very few people know the little guy’s staying with us,” I tried convincing myself. “So, no worries, right?”

  “Wrong.” My father again shoved the Hanahan Herald at me. “Lake Bess Lore. Read it. Now.”

  I told him he drives me nuts and skimmed Maxine’s weekly column.

  I looked up at Jason. “Yes. Worries.”

  ***

  Jason reached for the paper, but my father grabbed it.

  “Maxine means well,” he tried. “You remember Maxine Tibbitts, Captain Sterling? She helped us last summer.”

  “She was the one in the paisley pajamas toting her deceased daddy’s shotgun.” Jason gestured for the paper. “Let me see.”

  In a last-ditch effort to protect his only child, my father held onto the paper and insisted on reading the column out loud. While he adjusted his reading glasses, I scooted the cat from my lap and went in search of some pencils in the kitchen junk drawer.

  “Never a dull moment in Lake Bess this week!” Dad began. “And wouldn’t you know it, my neighbor Cassie Baxter is the reason why!!! Yet again!!!”

  Dad looked up. “So far we have seven exclamation points. Maxine simply does not understand the basics of proper punctua—”

  “Mr. Baxter,” Jason interrupted. “Keep reading.”

  I set three pencils before the cop and glanced at the dog. “Protect me,” I whispered. I returned to my chair, and Charlie placed himself at my feet. Notz claimed his spot on my lap.

  “Her most recent crisis is a tragic tale,” Dad continued reading. “But as everyone knows, Cassie Baxter is such a good citizen!!!”

  He looked up. “More uncalled for exclamation points. As a retired English teacher, I really must take issue with such hyperbole.”

  Jason broke a pencil. “Keep. Reading.”

  Charlie tapped my foot with his paw, and Notz gave me an encouraging meow, while my father read the part where Maxine announced to the entire county that I was taking care of Truman Tripp.

  “Cassie’s a distant relative of the little boy,” Dad read. “But she’s desperately seeking the child’s other relations. So let’s help her spread the news! Let’s help her locate those long lost relatives and find this poor orphan a new home!!!”

  Dad paused. “Three exclamation points.”

  I whimpered incoherently. Jason broke another pencil.

  Bobby visibly braced himself and kept on reading, “Now remember! The child’s last name is TRIPP!! And his mother’s maiden name was ABERNATHY”

  Dad looked up again. “She put the last names in capital letters.”

  “Of course she did,” Sterling muttered to his pile of pencil parts, and Dad promised he was almost done.

  “Call me, Maxine Tibbitts, with any information!!!” he read. “Anything at all!!! Or see Cassie, herself. You know where to find her! Lake Bess!! Leftside Lane to be exact!!!”

  Dad cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you’d like the exclamation point tally?” he asked, and the remaining pencil lost its life.

  ***

  “It’s ironic,” Jason said when he was capable of speech again.

  My father told him authors love irony. “What’s ironic?”

  “That your daughter’s a pro at keeping secrets, except when it comes to blabbing to the town gossip.” He turned to face me. “What possessed you?”

  “I don’t know!” I whined. “It was right after I brought Truman home. I was flustered.” I waved both hands at the stupid newspaper. “I didn’t think she’d publish it.”

  “Do you think at all?”

  I turned to my father. “Maxine and I had a little chat while you and Truman were at the Lake Store, and then I forgot all about it.” I looked at Jason. “I’ve had one emergency after another since Sunday.”

  “Yep. And now you have another.” Jason stabbed at the Herald. “Do you understand the significance of this?”

  “Duh. Maxine’s publicized Truman’s whereabouts to the entire county,” I said.

  “Everyone reads the Hanahan Herald,” Bobby added helpfully.

  Jason took a few deep breaths.

  “Maybe a little publicity is a good thing,” Dad tried, and Mr. State Trooper continued with the deep breathing.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “But I thought talking to Maxine made sense. She knows everyone, and she’s a librarian. I thought if anyone could find Truman’s real relatives, it would be her.”

  My father gasped.

  Sterling blinked. “Real relatives?”

  ***

  Dad nodded me encouragement. “Honesty is the best policy, Cassie.”

  Personally, I had my doubts, but let’s face it—at that point I had no choice. “I’m not Truman’s cousin,” I told the kitchen table. “I’m not his aunt. I’m not his auntie.”

  “We’re no relation whatsoever,” Dad added.

  Jason waited until I looked up. “Then why is he here? I don’t get it.”

  “Join the club,” I said and explained that Judy Tripp had named me as Truman’s next of kin on his school paperwork. “And then Sarah insisted I take him after the accident,” I said.

  “Cassie more or less kidnapped him,” my ever-helpful father clarified.

  Jason stared at me. “You lied to me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You lied to me, repeatedly,”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  He stared some more. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “I don’t know!” I threw my arms up. “Arrest me, handcuff me, throw me in jail? You’re the cop. Don’t you know what to do?”

  “Cassie Baxter, I never know what to do with you.”

  Chapter 23

  “I didn’t know what to do with her, so I let her in,” Amy told me the second I got to work. She pointed to my office door, and I stopped and stared.

  “Ms. Mauve?” I asked,

  “Who?”

  I tilted my head. “Who’s in there?”

  “A Sarah Bliss?” Amy cringed. “What a misnomer. She demanded I let her in. Seemed like a good idea to obey.”

  “I hear you,” I mumbled and peeked in my door. Sarah sat behind the desk with her feet up.

  “Shut the door, babe”

  I shut the stupid door. “Make yourself at home, babe.”

  “Sit.” She pointed to one of my guest chairs.

  “I’m not Charlie,” I protested, but darned if I didn’t sit. “Let me guess,” I said. “You saw the Herald.”

  “You told Maxine?” Sarah took her feet down and sat up. “What were you thinking?”

  “It was Sunday and I was flustered. And by the way, this is all your fault.”

  “Mine!? I didn’t do anything.”

  “Hello. You’re the one who sprang Truman on me so unexpectedly.” I thought a second. “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be typing up some report on the arson?” I raised an eyebrow. “Which you seem to know a whole lot about.”