Page 47 of Refuge for Ailsa

“Thought I’d bring y’all lunch and visit. I wanted to meet this girlfriend of yours. You talk about her like she’s kinda special,” Harley said, and tossed his head toward Ailsa with a wink.

“Yeah, she’s kinda special,” he answered, laughing.

“Kinda special, huh? I’ll remember that,” Ailsa play-groused. “Harley, this is really nice of you. Thanks so much.”

“You’re very welcome. Pick out what you want and I’ll eat whatever’s left.” The men let Ailsa choose what she wanted first. Tavish insisted Harley make his choice, and he was left with a Black Forest ham and handcrafted Swiss sandwich on homemade whole-wheat bread with spicy mustard and a garlic mayo. That wasn’t leftovers in his book.

As they chewed, Harley wiped his mouth with his napkin before he spoke. “We’ve put pictures of that guy everywhere hoping somebody will see him. Has he been around here again?”

Ailsa shook her head. “Nope. Nothing. You can be sure that would’ve told you. Maybe he got what he wanted. I dunno. But he hasn’t been back, at least not when we’re open.”

Harley’s brow furrowed. “You think he’d come here and prowl?”

“I dunno,” Ailsa answered with a shrug. “Maybe. I’m not sure what he was really up to, so he might. I mean, the Bentleys’ boat isn’t here, so it’s not like he could look around on it for anything of value or importance.”

“Yeah. It’s still in evidence processing. I think forensics will be finished with it Monday, but they haven’t found anything that would be cause for concern. It looks cut and dried to them.”

“I thought so too.” Tavish laid his sandwich on the paper and wiped mustard from his hands with his napkin. “The only thing in dispute is what was being said prior to the incident. As for what actually happened, that’s pretty damn obvious.”

Harley quirked his mouth to one side and wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Disgustingly so.” The wrinkling disappeared. “Ailsa, that man… did he touch anything?”

“I don’t think so. He handled some tee shirts, and maybe some keychains. I think he backed into the door to leave it instead of putting his hand on the bar. I don’t know how he opened it when he came in but, honestly, there’ve probably been fifty people in and out of here since then. Actually, probably more.” Tavish could see she was thinking. “Hey, wait. He picked that up and looked at it.” Ailsa pointed at a snow globe near the door. “Matter of fact, he picked it up by the glass globe. Don’t know how many other people have touched it, but I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“Yes. Got a bag?” When Ailsa handed a shopping bag to Harley, he placed it over the globe, then picked it up. “I’ll take it back and process it. I don’t have much hope, but it’s something.”

“Yeah. Better than nothing.” Tavish picked up another French fry and stuffed it in his mouth. “Worth a shot.”

The friends sat and finished their lunch. At a little after one, Harley stood and picked up his trash. “Guess I’d better get going.”

The shopkeeper reached out and took the paper from his hands. “Leave it. You bought it, I’ll pick it up. And thank you so much. It’s nice to have some company around here. I’m usually alone all day except for customers.”

Tavish extended his hand again and Harley took it. That time, it was no shake. It was just a firm grip, a friend telling another that they were thankful for the friendship. “Yeah, thanks, Harley, for the lunch and the ideas. I appreciate you staying on this.”

“You’re welcome. You guys have a good afternoon and a good rest of the weekend.”

“You too. Later.” The door closed behind him and Tavish added, “He’s a good guy.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Oh. Forgot to ask him something. Be right back.” Tavish took off out the door at a trot and caught up with Harley in the parking lot as the officer was placing the snow globe in his car. “Hey, meant to ask, did you come up with anything on that money owed to the mob theory?”

“No, but we came up with something just as interesting, and I think it’s where the whole gambling debt theory came from. Turns out he had a side piece.”

“Yeah?”

“She was a dealer at the blackjack table of the casino in Vevay, Indiana. Seems he spent a lot of time there and managed to convince her he was loaded and would make a good catch. He told her he was a cardiac surgeon.”

“He was a cardiac surgeon?”

“No, I said hetoldher he was a cardiac surgeon. He’s actually a portfolio manager for one of those national investment firms like they talk about on TV. You know, Ameritrade, Morgan Stanley, something like that. He did okay, but he wasn’t loaded. The office he worked in was in a small suburb, so it wasn’t high dollar. When the officers questioned her, she told them she thought he was a widower and was planning to marry her. So there’s his motive right there.”

“So do you think this whole mob thing is bogus?”

“I don’t know, but it can’t be ignored. Just because nothing’s been found doesn’t mean it’s not there. It may just mean that it hasn’t been found yet. I’d keep a close eye on that woman of yours if I were you.”

“I intend to.”

“And by the way,” Harley said, his door open and one foot on the cruiser’s floorboard, “she seems like an outstanding person. I think you hit the jackpot with that one.”

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