Nancy shook her head. “No, but I just learned today that he was hoping to save his land developing business by turning Candlelight Inn into part of a historic shopping district. If the inn was available, he’d probably be the first in line to buy it.”
Mr. Drew speared a lettuce leaf with his fork. “Interesting theory.”
“Then there are the Guiding Eyes people,” Nancy said. “The organization will get some insurance money because of the damage. And Penny Rosen has mentioned a few times that they’d like to drop the Candlelight Inn renovation and use the money somewhere else. But according to the terms of Mrs. Whitby’s will, that’s not possible—is it?”
“If they agreed to take Emmaline’s money to build the school, they’re pretty much stuck,” Mr. Drew said, “unless there are extenuating circumstances.”
“Like major damage to the inn that no one could have foreseen?” Nancy asked.
Mr. Drew set down his fork. “Are you saying the Guiding Eyes may have sabotaged the project to make Emmaline’s money available for other needs?”
Nancy sighed. “I guess that’s what I’m saying. I mean, it’s possible, isn’t it? Anything’s possible.”
Mr. Drew nodded. “You can say that again.”
“I’m going to see Marisa this afternoon,” Nancy said. “She’s been through so much these past few days—I don’t know if I have the heart to suggest that Devon’s father and the Guiding Eyes are the chief suspects so far.”
“Play it by ear,” Mr. Drew suggested. “That’s what I intend to do with Judge Medina this afternoon. Everything depends on how his golf game went this morning.”
“Probably not well,” Nancy said. “Have you seen the mud?”
Mr. Drew put down his napkin and stood up from the table. “You have a point there. This should be an interesting afternoon for both of us.”
After her father left, Nancy quickly ate a sandwich and drove back to the university to pick up Marisa.
“How was class?” Nancy asked as she guided Marisa toward the Mustang.
Marisa shrugged. “I didn’t have my reading finished—and of course the professor called on me.” Marisa closed her eyes. “A lot of people asked about Misty. It’s been a rough day.”
Nancy’s heart went out to Marisa. Her friend seemed exhausted. Nancy decided that this was not a good time to discuss her latest theories in the counterfeiting case, and she kept the conversation going with light chatter during the drive to the Marvin home.
Bess had a tray of warm peanut butter cookies waiting for Marisa and Nancy in the kitchen when they arrived.
“Do dogs like peanut butter?” Bess asked Marisa. “Casey’s been begging for a taste all day.”
Marisa laughed. “I’ve never met a dog that didn’t like peanut butter. Don’t give in, though—it’s very fattening.”
The doorbell rang. Casey yapped and dashed to the foyer. Bess followed and opened the door. “Hi, Amber.”
Amber skipped inside. “Hi. May I take Casey for a walk?”
“Of course you may,” Bess said. “Thanks for the help.”
Amber took off her coat and leaned over to pet Casey. Casey’s tail wagged as she sniffed Amber’s sweater. Slowly, she circled Amber, her black nose twitching.
“What do you smell, Casey?” Bess asked.
“I just had an ice cream cone,” Amber said. “Does she like ice cream?”
“Probably,” Bess said. “Maybe you spilled some on your sweater.” Casey sneezed, and Bess leaned over to pick her up. She looked closely at Amber’s sweater.
“Did I spill anything?” Amber asked.
“What?” Bess distractedly put Casey down again.
“Did I spill ice cream on my sweater?” Amber repeated.
“Oh—no, you didn’t,” Bess said. “Are you ready to go?”
“Come on, Casey. Do you want to go for a walk?” Amber pulled on her coat again as Nancy and Marisa came into the foyer.
“Why don’t you go, too, Marisa?” Bess suggested.
“Good idea,” Marisa said. “I can use a break from studying.”
As soon as the door closed behind the dog-walkers, Nancy turned to Bess. “What was that all about?”
“Was I that obvious?” Bess asked.
“No, but I know you,” Nancy said. “You wanted to get Marisa out of here. What’s going on?”
“When I was picking up Casey, I saw hairs on Amber’s sweater. Short, black hairs.” Bess took a deep breath before she continued. “They certainly weren’t Amber’s. Amber has light hair. I think the dark hairs belonged to Misty.”
9
A Hairy Problem
“No wonder Casey was so interested in Amber’s sweater—she smelled Misty.” Nancy followed Bess back to the kitchen. “The Marshalls have a spare key to your house, don’t they?”
