"Why, just because he's following Jessie Blackstone around town? That doesn't mean that he's innocent of the murder."

"How could it not?" I asked.

"Here's something that you haven't considered. What if Wayne killed Gordon, and he's afraid that Jessie knows. Who knows? Maybe she saw something that she didn't connect to the murder right away, and he's waiting to see if she figures it out? If Wayne is the murderer, what's to keep him from killing her, too, to shut her up?"

"Wow, you really do have a dark mind sometimes, don't you?" I asked.

"Tell me that I'm wrong. I've always liked Wayne."

I thought about it for a minute, and then I said, "No, when I look at things that way, you could be right. We need to be careful when we talk to him."

Moose looked surprised by my admission. "Are you really considering my idea? Are you willing to change your mind that quickly?"

"Of course I am," I said. "I'm a big enough woman to admit that I might have been wrong."

"Wow, there was enough wiggle room in that statement to allow you full deniability that you ever said it," Moose said with a smile.

"Let's just go talk to Wayne, okay?" I asked with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm ready if you are," Moose said.

We got out of the truck and walked inside the shop. It wasn't going to be the most comfortable conversation that we'd ever had with a suspect, but then again, it was never easy asking someone about their capacity to commit murder. To add another layer of difficulty to it, we were going to ask Wayne for information about one of our other suspects, Jessie Blackstone. I was glad that my grandfather was with me. This could get tricky, but between the two of us, maybe we'd figure out a way to get the truth out of one of our suspects.

It would make for a nice change of pace if we were successful this time.

"Wayne, do you have a second?" I asked the mechanic as we walked into his office.

"Sorry, but I'm trying to catch up on some of this paperwork," Wayne said as he fanned through the stack of papers on his desk.

"In a way, that's what this is about."

"How's that?" Wayne asked.

"We know why you're behind in your work," Moose said.

Wayne pushed back from his desk and stared at us in turn. He tried his best to smile, but it came out timid. "Hey, business is good. What can I say?"

"Well, it's hard to do your paperwork when you're out tailing suspects in Gordon Murphy's murder case," I said.

Wayne's gaze left us for a moment and returned to his desktop. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not as good at tailing people as you might think," I said. "I saw you at the diner this morning. Did you learn anything particularly useful following Jessie Blackstone around town?"

"You really saw that?" he asked with disdain. "I thought I was being clever and crafty."

"I'm not saying that she knew that you were tailing her," I said, trying to save the man a little face. "But it was pretty obvious when she left the diner that you were following her."

"I've got a hunch that woman is up to something," Wayne said. "She's not the innocent lamb she wants people to believe that she is. You didn't see her at Ellen's the night before Gordon was murdered."

"What do you mean?" Moose asked.

"She was clearly uneasy around her fiance," he said. "Jessie might have the big bank account, but it was clear who was running the show between them. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that she was afraid of Gordon. It's no great stretch to think that she might have killed him to protect herself, but you two haven't even considered her as one of your suspects, have you?"

"As a matter of fact," Moose said, "she's pretty high on our list right now. Why wouldn't she be? She was the closest person to him, and Gordon seemed to generate contempt wherever he went. We're not rank amateurs, you know."

"I didn't think you were giving her much credence as a suspect; that's all."

"Did you learn anything following her around town?" Moose asked.

"She didn't do anything all that suspicious at first, but then she met up with Cal Davies from The Harbor Inn. The reason I know him at all is because of the old junk cars he drives. I keep the man on the road most of the time, so I've gotten to know him pretty well over the years."

"It might not be all that significant after all. They know each other, so it's no surprise that they chatted," I said. "After all, that's where Gordon and Jessie were staying. Why wouldn't they talk?"

"You don't understand," Wayne said. "There was something odd going on there. She looked everywhere around when they met, and I thought for a second that they spotted me, but fortunately, I managed to duck back behind a tree at the last second, so they didn't catch me spying on them."

"Did you manage to overhear anything?" I asked him.

"A little. She handed him a fat envelope, and then she said that was it. He wasn't going to get any more, so he should consider that his final payment."

That was indeed strange. "How did he react to that?"

"He laughed at her, but there wasn't a hint of joy in it, if you know what I mean. He said that he had one more coming, and that it wouldn't be over until he said that it was over. What's she paying him off for, anyway? What could Cal have on a woman like that?"

I didn't know, but I knew that we needed to find out. "So, the envelope was most likely stuffed with cash."

"I think that's exactly what it was. I deal with cash-only customers sometimes, and that envelope was a size and shape that I'm not likely to mistake. It was a payoff, plain and simple, and neither one of them wanted anyone at The Harbor to know about it."

"What are you going to do with the information?" Moose asked Wayne.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you planning on pursuing this?"

Wayne shook his head quickly. "No, I don't have the stomach for it. To be honest with you, I'm not cut out for this cloak-and-dagger stuff. I want to go back to running my shop; do you know what I mean?"

"We do," I said. "Digging into murder can be an awfully dangerous hobby."

Wayne sighed. "Well, I for one am done with it, so I'll happily leave it to you two." He paused, and then Wayne explained, "I just felt so helpless with Ellen, you know? I had to do something for her."

"Give her your love and support," I said. "That's the best thing that you can do for her."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Listen, I'd prefer it if you didn't tell anyone what I just told the two of you. I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea."

"Like the murderer?" Moose asked with a grin.

"Exactly. I didn't really think about it much before, but it turns out that you two are a lot braver than I am." He let out a deep breath of air, and then Wayne added, "Wow, I can't tell you what an incredible weight that is off my shoulders. From now on, I'm going to stick to what I know."

"Sometimes I think we should do the same thing," I said.

"No, don't do that," Wayne said. "You can't imagine how much faith Ellen has in your ability to track down Gordon's killer. She's counting on you two, not Sheriff Croft, to find out who the murderer is."

"We're doing our best," Moose said. "But we can't make any promises."

"Just keep trying. That's all that counts."

"Thanks, Wayne." I turned to my grandfather. "Are you ready to go?"

"In a second," he said. Moose flipped me the keys, and as I caught them, he said, "Go on out to the truck. I'll be right out."

I was clearly being dismissed, but I decided to give my grandfather some s.p.a.ce. I walked out to the truck, briefly considered getting in the driver's side, but then I went to the pa.s.senger door and got in there.

Moose came out two minutes later, and I unlocked his door for him.

"What was that all about?" I asked him.

"I just told Wayne that there was no shame in stopping his investigation, and that Ellen needed him by her side instead of out on a case that might get him killed."

"Did you happen to tell him that he was still on our list of suspects, too?" I asked.

"There was really no need for me to do that," Moose said as he took the keys from me and started the truck. "He's acting as Ellen's protector, and I wanted to be sure that he didn't do anything else stupid."

"We do stupid things all of the time," I said with a grin.

"That's because we're seasoned investigators," Moose replied. I could see the twinkle in his eyes as he said it.

"But not trained ones," I answered.

"Our amateur instincts are what help us with the cases we take on," he said.

"Do you honestly believe that?" I asked. I'd never really discussed our rationale for investigating murder cases with my grandfather much before, and it proved to be an enlightening conversation.

"I do," he said. "If the police's methods of investigation are what are called for, Sheriff Croft has a vast advantage over us. We can't run license plates, or use forensics, or implement the latest in police techniques. What we do have is a knowledge of the people in our area, and a general understanding of what drives ordinary people to murder."

"Well, that sounds about even to me," I said sarcastically.

"You're kidding, but I'm deadly serious. If it comes down to it, I'll bet on our instincts before I'll trust the police and all of the crime labs in the world."

"So, you don't believe the prevailing theory that we've just been lucky in the past?" I asked.

"Sometimes luck is when preparation meets opportunity," Moose said.

"Then what opportunity are we going to take advantage of now?"

"We're going to The Harbor. I want to have another chat with Cal."

"It sounds like a plan to me," I said. "What are we going to say once we get there?"

"Let's just wing it, shall we? After all, it's worked for us so far."

"It's a deal," I said.

However, all didn't go according to plan when we got to the hotel complex, no matter how unstructured our strategy might have been. One of my favorite expressions was that Man plans, and G.o.d laughs. This was no different.

As Moose started to pull into the only available parking spot near the inn, a security guard waved him off.

Moose rolled down his window and asked, "What seems to be the problem?"

"You can't park here, sir," the man said as he crossed his arms, pinning his clipboard to his chest. "It's for guests of the inn and the grounds only."

"How do you know I'm not either one?" Moose asked.

The guard tapped the clipboard. "I have your license number written down right here. Apparently, you've been here before."

"And that got my name on your list?" Moose asked. "I have a right to be here."

"While it's true that we can't keep you from visiting us entirely, we certainly have the privilege of telling you where you can park."

"Where would that be?" I asked.

The guard pointed to a break in the trees three hundred yards away. "Do you see that gap over there?"

Moose nodded.

"Well, you need to drive through that opening, and a little past that, you'll find a field where you can park another two hundred yards away."

"You've got to be kidding me," Moose said.

"Sorry. I've got strict orders." It was clear that he was enjoying ordering me and my grandfather around.

"What are you going to do if I park here anyway?" Moose asked him.

"Then we'll have to tow your truck," he said, and there was no mistaking his smile this time. He was clearly having the time of his life.

"Thanks. We'll move it," I said.

The guard seemed a little put off that we weren't going to put up more of a fight. He took a few steps back to see if we were indeed going to comply with his orders, and from his expression, it was clear that he was hoping that my grandfather was in a fighting mood.

"What do you want to do?" I asked Moose.

"I'm not letting that goon with a clipboard run me off," Moose said.

"But you're not parking here, are you?"

"Victoria, I have no desire to have my truck towed unless it's broken down by the side of the road. I'll park where he wants me to, this time."

"Okay. Let's go."

Moose backed all the way out of the spot and started driving toward the gap in the woods. As we turned the corner, he said, "You know, there's no reason for both of us to have to walk five football fields. Why don't you get out now, and I'll join you after I've parked?"