Free Going Through the Notions (A Deadly Notions Mystery) by Cate Price

didn’t mention the estate company yet. I wanted to be careful with the trust Reenie had placed in me.
    Cyril stared out the window at the rain, which was coming down harder and making long, wet strikes against the glass.
    I racked my mind for other good detective-type questions. Damn it. The police should be dealing with this cantankerous old man. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.
    I finished my tea. The slogan on the outside of my mug read, NOT A POT TO PISS IN . I set it carefully down on the table.
    There was silence between us for a few more moments.
    Cyril glanced at me. His eyes were hazel, almost greenish in this light. I’d never noticed the color before. His gray hair straggled out from under his cap, his clothes were a mess, but his eyes were positively beautiful. Almost hypnotic.
    “Ah don’t remember much about math in school,” he said quietly, “but if
a
equals
b
, it don’t necessarily equal
c
as well. Maybe Jimmy’s murder is nowt to do with Jimmy
or
the pens. Angus had some enemies, you know.”
    “Like who?”
    “Well, the Perkins family in Sheepville, for one. A year or so ago, Angus bought their grandmother’s estate as a whole house buyout.”
    I nodded. Angus sometimes paid a flat fee for entire estate contents, instead of taking items on consignment.
    “Turns out the merchandise were worth a damn sight more when it was auctioned off individually. The two grandsons are especially brassed off.”
    “You mean angry?”
    “Aye. And those lads were in the pub that night. They could have realized this was the perfect opportunity to get their own back.”
    “So you think they could have killed Jimmy to pin the murder on Angus and get their revenge? And recover their money by stealing the pens?”
    Cyril shrugged. “Who knows? Jimmy was also the one that recommended they hire Angus in the first place. Kill two birds with one stone, if you catch my drift.” He took another of Martha’s oatmeal cookies and pointed it at me. “These sweets aren’t too bad. I didn’t peg you for a good cook.”
    “Actually I didn’t make them. That bossy woman did.”
    Cyril raised his eyebrows a fraction and took another appreciative bite.
    My cell phone beeped with a missed call. “Well, I’d better get back to the store. Thanks for your time, Cyril. And for the tea.”
    On the way across the lot toward my car, I noticed an interesting boot scraper made out of iron in the shape of a squirrel. I bent down to take a closer look. The rain had let up momentarily, and the rising heat was going to turn this day into a steam bath later on.
    “You’re going to take this withee?”
    I glanced up. It wasn’t really a question.
    “Um, okay. How much is it?”
    “Ten dollars.”
    I didn’t dare argue. “Fine.” I forked over the money and stuffed the squirrel under my arm, while also stuffing down the feeling I’d been had.
    “Next time, bring some coffee.”
    I grinned. That sounded as close to an invitation to come back as I was ever likely to get. As I pulled out of the lot, I called to him. “It’s
recalcitrant
, by the way.”
    “What is?” he shouted.
    “Three across. On your crossword puzzle.”
    *

    “I checked my phone. The missed call was from Joe.
    “Hi, babe,” he said when I called him back. “Wondering where the car was. Thought I’d go over and see if Betty needed some manly muscle to get ready for the auction this Saturday. It’s the least I can do after all Angus has done for us.”
    “Oh, Joe, you’ve read my mind. I was going to ask if you’d mind helping her with the heavy stuff. But as usual, you’re one step ahead of me. What’s Sarah doing today?”
    “Still sleeping right now. I fed the pup and walked him, so he’s all set.”
    “I see. Anyway, I’m dropping the car off in a couple of minutes. I just went to visit Cyril Mackey.”
    “Yeah? Did you have fun?”
    I grunted. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with that man.”
    Joe laughed. “Oh,