"I saw the police from my aunt's house," Oliver said.
"Somebody decided I needed to redecorate." I motioned for them to find a seat. "Did either of you notice anybody strange around the neighborhood this evening?"
Oliver shrugged. "I'm afraid that I wouldn't know who's a stranger and who isn't, at least not yet. I'm sorry about your window, though. That looks pretty nasty."
Horvald plopped himself down on the porch swing. "Strangers? Let me think."
I rubbed my temples, my headache threatening to explode into a migraine. Horvald pulled out a roll of Menty-Mints and offered me one. I gratefully accepted the mint-chocolate cream. Chocolate made everything better.
Oliver pushed past Murray, toward the door. "I'll be glad to give you a hand cleaning up." Ida would have made the same offer, but truth was, I just didn't want strangers mucking about in my house.
I shook my head. "No thanks, I'll take care of it."
He blew off my concerns. "Don't worry about it. My aunt told me to give you a hand whenever I had the chance, and I'm not going to let her down."
"Listen, Oliver—" As the weariness of yet another disaster descended on my shoulders, I realized I didn't have the strength to argue. "That's very kind of you."
He reached out and for a moment I thought he was going to pat my hand, but then he simply removed the whisk broom and dustpan I'd carried out from the kitchen in my state of dazed confusion, and set to work out on the porch. A few minutes later, he asked me where I kept my garbage can. I told him that it was near the back of the house, next to the kitchen door, and he disappeared down the steps and around the house.
Murray frowned. "Who's that?"
"Ida's nephew, Oliver. I told you about him, remember? He seems nice enough, in an odd sort of way. So, what should I do? Get a security system for my home, too? I don't want to live in a locked box. I don't even know why this is happening." I couldn't imagine turning my house into an armed fortress.
"The telescope was probably just an accident. Maybe the same person who trashed your shop is also responsible for breaking your window." She leaned against one of the columns.
I thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. I suppose it could be two different people. Stranger things have happened, but I think you're right. I think the incidents are related in some way. I just don't know how or why."
"Given the writing on the brick, we just might be looking at Jimbo. This stunt would be right up his alley."
I glanced over at Horvald. He looked so deep in thought that he probably couldn't even hear us. "Did you catch up to him yet?" I'd almost managed to forget my altercation with redneck-boy.
She grinned. "Yeah. He insisted he had no idea who you were and said he'd never heard of your shop. We got a half-assed alibi out of him for Sunday night, but it hasn't checked out yet. I'll have another talk with him after I leave here. He's probably over at Reuben's or the Brown Bear. I gather he spends most of his spare time there. No girlfriend. No ex-wife—apparently nobody was ever stupid enough to marry him. No kids around that I can tell. He's a loner and keeps to himself except when he's drunk."
Horvald snapped his fingers. He'd been concentrating so hard that I'd been worried he might blow a circuit. "I remember something! Last night I was out working in the zinnia garden. I was getting cold and was about to go inside when I saw a chopper drive by, real slow. I think it was black with red detailing along the sides. The man riding it was wearing black chaps, a black helmet, and dark glasses. I remember thinking that he didn't belong in this neighborhood, or I would have noticed him before."
Murray jotted the info down. "Anything else? License plate, maybe?"
Horvald went back to concentrating but shook his head after a moment. "I'm sorry. I was worried about my flowers. The aphids are going to be thick this year, and I wanted to make sure they didn't set up house on the zinnias. Only noticed the biker because, when I was young, I used to ride, and detailed bikes always catch my eye."
I could tell Murray was suppressing a smile. The thought of this grandfatherly man on a Harley seemed almost comical, but then again, there were a lot of old bikers around, and they were still in good shape. "That's fine. Do you think you'd recognize it again if you saw it?"
Horvald gave us a self-satisfied smile and dipped his head. "Yep. It was a beauty, hard to miss." He mumbled good-bye and hurried across the street to his yard, settling back into weeding the patch of phlox spreading parallel to the path that led from the sidewalk to his house. He was trying to train the floral groundcover, but it still looked like a giant pink jumble to me.
Sandy Whitmeyer popped out, holding a paper bag. "Detective Murray? Surprise of surprises, we managed to lift a couple of prints off the brick. Everything's ready to go"
"Excellent," Murray said, her eyes lighting up. "Okay, if everything's bagged, then head back to the station with the evidence. I'll be along in a few." The sound of tires crunching on gravel heralded Joe's arrival. Murray flipped her notebook shut. "Em, it looks like we've got everything we're going to get here."
I wanted to hug her but refrained. I wasn't about to show her anything but professional respect when other officers were present. There was no way of knowing who might be one of Coughlan's snitches. They headed over to the prowl car.
Joe shouted a quick hello to them as he bounded up the stairs. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then stood gaping at what had, until recently, been my living room window. After a few minutes, Miranda and Kip joined us on the porch.
Randa perched on the wide railing that overlooked the front yard. "Mom, Mrs. Trask called, but you were busy with the cops, so I took a message."
"What did she say?"
"She said she won't be back for about a week; her friend was really banged up and needs hen She left her number for you to call her."
"Thanks, sugar. You're a good girl."