Casey nipped Bess’s finger as Bess took the ball from her mouth. “Ow, Casey. Her landlord set up a couple of fans to dry out the carpets. They make a lot of noise, and Marisa is dependent on her sense of hearing, so she can’t go back until at least tomorrow.”
Nancy sat on the floor and crossed her legs. “I don’t know if it’s safe for Marisa to stay here alone with you tonight.”
“We’re not alone.” Bess patted Casey’s head. “We have two terrific watchdogs. And if the person passing the counterfeit money tries to get to Marisa again—”
“That’s the problem,” Nancy said. “I think Marisa may be involved in passing the counterfeit money.”
Bess dropped the tennis ball. Casey grabbed it and ran across the room. “You’re kidding.”
“Have you ever known Nancy to kid about such a thing?” George asked Bess.
“What about all the threats against Marisa?” Bess asked.
“It’s possible she engineered them herself,” Nancy said. “Or maybe there are other people involved in passing the phony money who have it in for her.”
“But why would Marisa work so hard to prove that Eric’s not guilty? That doesn’t make sense,” Bess said.
“Of course it makes sense,” George said. “In fact, it’s brilliant. If she’s the one who’s guilty, who would suspect her?”
Bess crossed her arms. “You and Nancy would.”
Briefly, Nancy explained what she had learned at the police station. “Susan Whitby was an artist—remember her portrait of Marisa’s grandmother? We’re looking for a talented forger, right? Marisa’s mother could be the link between the old counterfeiting ring and the recent one.”
“But Marisa’s mother is dead,” Bess said. “That’s what Marisa told us.”
George bounced the tennis ball. “She could have been lying.”
“Even if Marisa’s mother did die, she could have passed on to Marisa what she knew about the counterfeiting ring.” Nancy turned to Bess. “Remember that mysterious feud between Marisa’s mother and her grandmother?”
Bess nodded. “Marisa said they never spoke to each other again.”
“Maybe they argued about the counterfeit money,” Nancy said. She stood up. “Do you mind if I use your phone, Bess? And the phone book?”
“Of course not.” Bess walked to the dining room and pulled out the phone book from a low shelf. “If you’d like to try to contact Susan Whitby, the number for the psychic hot line is in the front.”
“Very funny.” Nancy flipped through the book. “I’m calling Kay McNamara—Emmaline’s housekeeper.”
Within minutes Nancy had the answer she was looking for. She thanked Mrs. McNamara and hung up the phone. “Guess when Susan Whitby argued with her mother and left River Heights?”
“Twenty-five years ago,” George said. “Bingo. It couldn’t have been long after she posted bail for Devon’s father.”
Nancy returned the phone book to the shelf. “Tell me that’s a coincidence, Bess.”
“Okay,” Bess said. “I have to admit—this is getting weird.”
“Devon and his father, Marisa and her mother . . .” Nancy ticked off the names on her fingers. “It almost seems as if the counterfeiting ring was a family business, passed down from one generation to the next.”
“What do you think we should do now?” Bess asked Nancy.
“I think we should confront Marisa with what we’ve learned and see what she says,” Nancy replied.
George leaped to her feet. “Look at the time. I was supposed to pick up Marisa five minutes ago.” She grabbed her keys and hurried out the door. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
“You look exhausted,” Bess told Marisa when she came back with Misty and George.
“What a boring class.” Marisa sank onto the sofa. “I am exhausted. Between working on my grandmother’s will and studying, the counterfeiting case, and all this stress . . .” Marisa paused. “Nancy, I don’t know quite how to say this. What would you think if I decided not to pursue the case any further?”
“That’s up to you, Marisa,” Nancy said quietly.
“Well,” Marisa said, “there don’t seem to be any lingering suspicions about Eric. I talked to him tonight, and he wants me to give up the case. Anyhow, we’re not making much progress. I just don’t think it’s worth it.”
“But you were so determined before,” Bess said.
“I know,” Marisa said. “It’s just that I have so much on my mind, and, besides, if Eric doesn’t think I should work on the case, then why should I?”
“To prove that you’re not the one passing the counterfeit money,” Bess blurted out.
Marisa turned slowly toward Bess. “Excuse me?”
“Nancy went to the police and found out that Devon’s father was charged in the counterfeiting case twenty-five years ago, and your mother bailed him out of jail.” Bess’s words ran together. “Then your mother argued with your grandmother and left town. All that money was found at the inn, and the inn was sabotaged, and . . .”
“And what does any of this have to do with me?” Marisa asked.
“Bess was almost arrested because you brought a counterfeit bill into her house,” Nancy said. “You claimed you didn’t know the money was counterfeit, but I found out that your money identifier won’t work on fake bills. Therefore, I think you knew better.”
“I was wondering what happened to my money identifier,” Marisa said.
“I borrowed it.” Nancy reached into her pocket and handed it to Marisa. “We’d like an explanation, Marisa.”
