Chapter 6
The Elks Lodge smelled like lemon cleaner, coffee, and time.
I had so many good memories from the older brick building, which had been scrubbed so many times the varnish had surrendered decades ago.
Sunlight slanted through tall, narrow windows, catching the wood-paneled walls that had aged from honey to amber to something resembling fine whiskey.
Long tables stretched across the hall, their metal legs scuffed from a thousand community dinners. Faded banners hung high, curling at the edges but still proud. Someone had polished the brass elk head over the fireplace until it gleamed, somehow untouched by dust.
I followed the sound of humming into the kitchen. It was spotless but worn. The stainless steel counters had lost their shine, and the old double ovens ticked softly as they cooled from Birdie’s morning baking.
She stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, hair twisted into a loose bun. Her lipstick was a pretty mauve, and her dress a light blue. “Good morning, Anna,” she said without turning. “How is your Nana holding up after the fire?”
“She’s fine, mostly irritated and really worried about the missing boxes.”
“That sounds right.” Birdie dried her hands and faced me. Wide-rimmed, round glasses covered half of her face, showing her faded blue eyes. “Did you want to see the refrigerator? I heard that Gloria sued Fiona.” She clucked and shook her head.
There were no secrets in Silverville. “Yeah. I need to get to the office and type up an Answer, but thought I’d check out the fridge first.”
She pointed toward the back wall. “That’s the one. I’ve got the only key now.”
The industrial fridge stood tall and solid, humming low. It looked like it could outlive us all. I crossed the tile and laid a hand on the heavy chrome handle. The lock shone, newer than the rest of it, and the seal looked tight, uncut.
“Has anyone been in here since the contest?” I asked.
“No one but me,” Birdie said. “I opened it this morning. Everything’s exactly how we left it.”
I crouched and checked the hinges, scanning the floor for scuffs or crumbs, looking for anything that didn’t fit. Nothing. Just cold air and metal. “I don’t see any scratches.” I turned to look at her. “Is there any chance someone has a spare key?”
She shrugged narrow shoulders. “Not that I’ve heard. Aiden asked the same question.”
I figured he’d been by earlier. “Did he see anything off?”
“No.” She wiped her hands on a towel. “He’s a handsome one, Anna. I know both of your grandmothers would like to see you married. After Tessa, of course.”
I barely kept from sighing. “So they said.” I studied Birdie. “Did you grow up in Silverville?” Sure, she’d always been around during my childhood, but that didn’t mean she came from the valley.
“Yes. My family moved here when I was in elementary school.” Her lips tipped up. “Not a lot has changed.”
I wasn’t sure about that. More and more people kept moving in, raising the property values and creating tax problems. “Did you know my grandmothers growing up?”
“Yes. Well, kind of. I was about five years older than them, but it’s a small town.” She pushed a strand of light gray hair over her shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
The words had never been said, but it felt like we’d all been ordered never to delve into why our grandmothers didn’t like each other. “I’m trying to figure out why Nonna and Nana have never been close.”
Both of Birdie’s eyebrows rose. “What are you talking about?”
Crap. So she didn’t know. Did anybody outside of the family know that the two weren’t the best of friends? “I’m not sure.” That was a lame response.
Birdie waved a hand. “Oh, there’s always been a good-natured rivalry between the Italians and the Irish here in town. You’re probably sensitive to that, considering you’re half of each.”
I nodded vigorously, feeling like I’d almost let out a family secret. “That makes sense.”
The door to the kitchen swung open, letting in a gust of cool, rain-soaked air that smelled faintly of espresso and expensive perfume.
“Buongiorno,” came the warm, melodic voice that could still hush a room. Nonna stepped inside, trench coat belted at the waist, a pale blue scarf tied loosely over her dark hair. Even in her sixties, she looked like Sophia Loren had wandered off a film set and into the Elks Lodge kitchen.
Birdie turned from the counter with an easy grin. “Elda Albertini. I was wondering when you’d show up. There’s a pie saboteur afoot, you know.”
“Birdie, my dear,” Nonna said, crossing the floor to kiss her friend on both cheeks. “That was kind of you to allow Donna to take my place at last month’s bridge game. I was on a case, you know.”
Birdie laughed, swatting at her with the towel. “I enjoyed teaching Donna. She bids like a gambler and bluffs like a saint. That girl doesn’t stand a chance.”
Nonna smiled indulgently. “Then it’s good you taught her. You have always been lucky with cards.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Birdie said. “I practice.”
“You always do.” Nonna turned, her gaze sweeping the room before landing on me. “There’s my sweet granddaughter and brilliant lawyer.”
I set down the clipboard I’d been using to take notes. “Hi again, Nonna. I think I have this covered.”
Nonna slipped off her gloves, her tone light but her brown eyes sharp. “I spoke with my two partners this morning. The Three Hens are taking Fiona O’Shea’s cases.”
I blinked. “Both of them?”
“Of course both.”
Birdie raised her brows. “You’re investigating the lotion fiasco and the theft by someone who plants dynamite?”
“Yes,” Nonna said simply. “They’re connected.”
I tried to halt this runaway train. “They’re probably not.”
“My partners and I discussed it at length earlier,” she said, all calm confidence. “Via phone, of course. Thelma and Georgiana wanted to drive right over the pass to investigate, but I insisted that one of us in town was enough. Right now.”
Amen to that. Georgiana and Thelma were sweet elderly ladies I often ended up representing.
I was still unsure how they’d ended up going into business with Nonna.
Why couldn’t they take up knitting and sell hats or booties?
“Nonna? Whoever used that dynamite is probably dangerous. Why doesn’t Three Hens investigate the lotion in the pie situation and leave the theft to Aiden? ”
Nonna pushed her round glasses further up on her nose. “The cases are connected, sweetheart.”
“No, they’re not,” I said gently.
Birdie gave us both a look that said she’d seen this dynamic before. “I’ll let you two hash this out. I need to stock the bar before the fellas start showing up.” She patted Nonna’s arm on her way by. “Don’t work too hard, sweetheart.”
“Never,” Nonna said.
When Birdie disappeared through the swinging door, Nonna turned to the industrial refrigerator. “I don’t see scratches.”
“It’s solid,” I said. “Birdie’s the only one with a key now. Aiden already checked it over and apparently found no sign of tampering.”
Nonna crouched, inspecting the handle and lock like she’d done it a hundred times before. “Hmm. Good quality. No scratches. No stress on the hinges.”
“Exactly. Which means nobody broke in.”
“Not necessarily,” she said. “Locks can be picked clean if the thief knows what they’re doing.” She glanced up at me, dark eyes amused. “We believe that the pie sabotage was a distraction for the theft of those nugget boxes.”
I shook my head. “The thief left dynamite, Nonna. We all ran right down to the shop, so they weren’t trying to keep us away from the store.”
Nonna rose slowly, smoothing her trench coat. “Huh. That’s true.” She patted the scarf. “Maybe they’re two cases. We can handle two at a time. Somebody sure wanted the map on the bottom of those boxes.”
“Seven disappointments,” I muttered. “That so-called treasure map has never led anywhere.”
Her mouth curved. “Yet people still look.”
“Not for years, Nonna. Not since we were kids.”
Nonna moved toward the counter, scanning the spotless surfaces and the heavy steel shelving as though they held secrets. “I suppose Aiden has secured all of the, what do you call it? Film from the area?”
“CCTV.” I rubbed at my temple. “I’m sure he has, but I haven’t spoken with him yet.”
“Excellent.” She looked around the kitchen again, her gaze thoughtful. “Tell Aiden I’d like a copy of the footage.”
I chuckled. “You know he won’t give you the footage, especially after you pretty much dared him earlier to mess with you.”
Her expression didn’t change, but I saw the flicker of amusement in her eyes. “I couldn’t help myself. Whenever a man gets too overprotective, I just turn into an imp.”
Man, I loved her. “It’s good to know where I get it.”
She laughed. Nonna had a great laugh—full, rich, and feminine, with a throaty edge. “I’m sure you can charm that film from him.”
The fact that she used the word film showed she shouldn’t be chasing someone who used dynamite. “Unfortunately, he’s overprotective when it comes to me as well.” I touched the arm of her trench coat. “Also, as an ATF agent, he won’t share information about an investigation. Ever.”
“Ah, well.” She shrugged easily. “This is Silverville. I don’t need cameras to figure out where everybody was at any point in time. I’ll use a notebook and start going door-to-door.”
I laughed softly. “You’re impossible.”
She smiled, looping her scarf back into place. “You say that with love.”
“I do,” I admitted.
She reached out, brushing my cheek affectionately. “You are a fine attorney, and I know you’ll take care of that silly lawsuit with Gloria.”
I leaned into her touch. “How did you already hear about that?”
“I was at the post office earlier.”
Yep. That totally made sense. “Aiden doesn’t make idle threats.” It was only fair to warn her.
Nonna fastened her coat and picked up her gloves. “If that man thinks to arrest me, he’s completely lost his mind.”
True. Very true. “Um, Nonna? I think it’s super nice that you’re helping Nana.”
“I’m a kind person, cara.” She pulled on one glove.
“Why are you assisting her?” I held my breath.
She paused and focused those warm brown eyes on me. “She’s family. I own a detective agency. Of course I’ll help her.”
I tried to swallow but my mouth was dry. “Um, through the years, I mean kind of, it has seemed that you and Nana aren’t close. That you might not even like each other.” I couldn’t breathe.
Nonna chuckled. “That’s just silly.”
Yet it wasn’t. “Please tell me about notes you showed each other earlier.”
She patted my cheek and then slid on her other glove. “Sometimes matters are better left in the past. This is one of those matters. Let it go, Annabella Fiona Albertini.”
My full name. The Irish and the Italian parts. I couldn’t speak.
She crossed the room. The door swung shut behind her, leaving the faint scent of her perfume and the steady hum of the refrigerator.
I immediately dialed Aiden.
“Hi,” he answered, no doubt seeing me as the caller.
“Hi. Three Hens has taken on the theft case,” I said without preamble. “We have to find the thief and fast.”
I could swear a slight growl came over the line. “There is no we when it comes to this case, or to dynamite in general.” His voice went Aiden low. “Tell me you understand this.”
Well, like grandmother, like granddaughter. “Nope. See you at home, Devlin.” I ended the call. Taking a deep breath and knowing better, I called Nonna.
“What, dear? I just left you,” she said by way of answer.
I exhaled. “Would you let me know what you find out after speaking with everyone in town later?”
“Of course. You do represent the Three Hens, you know. You’re our lawyer.” She ended the call.
Great. Just great. My phone buzzed and I glanced down to see Aiden calling. My abdomen turned over as I declined the call.
He wasn’t going to like that.