"Are you thinking one of them might have slipped in and stolen the doorstop without anyone seeing them?"
"It's entirely possible; I don't know if the back door was locked, so someone could have come in without our noticing" she said. "We don't know that it disappeared during the signing, after all. We can't rule anyone out."
I sighed. "This just gets more complicated, doesn't it?"
"It does. Speaking of complicated... what about romantic motives?" she asked. "Greed, revenge, and jealousy are three big motivations. We've got greed and revenge... but what about jealousy?"
"There's Jared, of course. He's got both jealousy and greed, not to mention possible revenge."
"That puts him in the top suspect position, I would say," she said.
"Cal's ex-wife Gretchen was at the store, too," I said. "Maybe she was jealous of his new girlfriend? Or thought he still had a little something for her in the will, and thought he was going to change it?"
"They've been divorced for a while," Bethany pointed out. "I would think that he would have changed his will right after the divorce... assuming he even needed to. He had a pretty ironclad pre-nup, from what I hear."
"You're probably right," I said, sinking down in one of the comfy chairs I'd scattered around the store for readers to enjoy. If only there were readers here to take advantage of them. And shoppers. Being a murder suspect did not appear to be good for business. Had I made a mistake by buying the store? Natalie had told me to follow my dreams... but what if I’d been wrong? "What a mess," I said, staring forlornly at the quiet cash register.
"It's just a setback," she said. "Look, I'll bet Josiah will be down at the Salty Dog for lunch today. Why don't you go down and see what you can find out from him, and I'll do some more poking into Kirsten online?"
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," she said. "Besides, this might help me shake loose my own mystery issue!"
The Salty Dog was bustling when I walked in. I hadn't been there in a few years, but not much had changed. Nautical maps and prints of sea creatures and old sailing ships adorned the raw wood walls, and varnished pine tables were filled with what appeared to be a healthy mix of locals and tourists. The smells of fried fish and beer perfumed the air as I let the door close behind me and headed toward the bar. Bethany had been right; I recognized Josiah from the Facebook profile picture she had shared with me, sitting at the end of the bar with a tankard, talking intently with the bartender, who I guessed was Jared. Josiah looked a lot like Cal, only in hippie form. Same chin, from what you could see under a good bit of bristly brown shrubbery. Same straight nose, same light eyes... only where Cal exuded success, you could read the bitterness on Josiah from across the room.
I walked over to the bar and sat down two stools away from him. "I think you should be good," Josiah was saying. "If they have another election, Meryl..."
Jared glanced over at me and stiffened. Josiah looked to see what his friend had reacted to; when he saw me, his eyebrows shot up.
"Hi," I said to Jared. "I'm sorry to interrupt."
"Weren't interrupting," Jared said in a surly tone, swiping at the bar with a rag. Like Josiah, he wore a thick beard, but had about forty pounds on his friend, and his arms were the size of tree trunks. He reminded me of a bear—and not a friendly one. If I were Sylvia Berland, I wouldn't want to cross him. In fact, even though I wasn't Sylvia Berland, I still didn't want to cross him. "What can I do for you?" he asked.
"Just a Pilsener and a basket of fried clams, please." I couldn't afford them, really, but I had to do something to justify my presence at the bar.
Besides... fried clams.
"Coming right up," he said, shooting a warning glance at Josiah before turning to grab a mug.
"Hi," I said, turning to Cal's brother and extending a hand. "I'm Max Sayers; I just bought the bookstore in town."
"Josiah Parker," he said, ignoring my extended hand. I caught a sour whiff of something stronger than beer as he spoke.
"Oh... I heard about your brother," I said, pulling my hand back. "I'm so sorry."
"Thanks," he said curtly, taking a swig of his beer and then turning to examine me more intently. "My brother was giving you a hard time about the store, wasn't he?"
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. "Do you mean the permitting issues?"
"Oh, I'm not accusing you of killing him," he said. "Not totally, anyway," he added, giving me another speculative glance. "Cal gave everyone a hard time. Had to line the pockets, even though they were already full of gold. He always had to be the big man, throw his weight around."
"It doesn't sound like you miss him much," I said.
"I do and I don't," he said frankly. "Jared here certainly won't," he added, taking another sip of beer as Jared plunked a mug down in front of me.
"No, I won't," Jared admitted. "But that doesn't mean I had anything to do with what happened to him," he said in a warning tone to Josiah.
"Of course not, buddy. How could you? We were down at my place all night, finishing up that keg of Whale Tale Ale."
"Good thing we've got an alibi," Jared said. "Or they'd probably drag both of us down to jail." Jared cut me a look. "It was your doorstop that did him
