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“Beyond Swenson’s signature? Possibly. There’s a clause tying my father’s microchips to the patent for the machines instead of to Sovereign Machinery.”
“Which means?” Evie began whistling for the dogs, rounding them up.
“Not sure yet, but it might mean my father could yank the patent from the company. I have to read more. I need to get Reuben in to look at actual machines and not just drawings. It’s possible DVM is still using the illegal machinesandthe patent. If so, then my father’s estate should still be receiving a share of the proceeds. That’s a huge suit in the making.”
“Ah, the plot thickens. And if those circuit boards are still crooked?” She snapped leashes to collars with one hand, not easy with an eager golden retriever. Maybe she should get earbuds for the phone.
“That’s a conundrum to ponder. Should I sue for profits on rigged machines? Let’s hope they fixed those circuit boards. I’ll get Reuben in to look at the new voting machines somewhere if I can.”
“I may think in circles, but I do not understand the criminal mind.”
“Because money and power are not your goals.” Jax signed off.
Her goal was much more difficult—respect. At least Mr. Redfern had calledherinstead of Jax. Leading the dogs back to town, she punched in her new contact, wondering how she would explain.
She didn’t think she could, especially when she got voice mail. “Mr. Redfern, Evie Malcolm here. Mr. Jackson believes the caller from the Swenson campaign may have confused him with his late father. Franklin Jackson and the senator were invested in the same voting machine company.”
She decided to throw out a wild card. Maybe not so wild given the apparent connections between Clancy and Swenson. “Given some things we’ve learned, he advises that you ask to have someone inspect Afterthought’s voting machines before the elections.”
The elections weren’t until the fall. Anything could happen before then.
She left Redfern with Jax’s number. She’d rather hunt ghosts. She punched in Reuben’s name since Roark usually drove the truck. “Any dead husbands at Mrs. Winsted’s?” she asked when he answered.
“Sick owl. We’re taking it to Iddy. If we grocery shop, what should we buy?”
“You’ll probably want hamburgers and hot dogs and all the gross stuff that goes with them. Pick up some tortillas and Mexican cheese for me, and I’ll show you what meat ought to taste like.”
“Will do. Juice Jax on inspecting some of those machines, will you?” Reuben urged. “I’m finding some weird sh—stuff—on the darknet.”
Evie grinned at the nerdy professor’s attempt to be polite. “I think he’s on it. The darknet is right here in River City.”
She left him whistling the tune. Saving Honey, her mother’s golden retriever, for last, Evie dropped her doggie clients off with their human parents and stopped to relieve her mother at the shop.
“I’m withdrawing my application,” Mavis announced, straightening the gray knot of her hair. “I couldn’t have found a better candidate than Larraine. Her cards are a bit dicey. Have her come in and we’ll see what we can do to fix that.”
Evie had known her mother hadn’t wanted to run. She’d just been making a point in her inimitable way. “I’ll try, but she seems to be pretty busy.”
“She’ll find time. We had someone from the city come by to say the water mains need inspecting and the water may be turned off indefinitely. I’m afraid I cast a forgetting spell on him and hexed his image in the scrying glass.”
Mavis was prescient, not a witch. Evie bit back a grin. This was her mother being angry. “I’ll call the water department and hex them, too. Sounds like we have Clancy worried.”
“While I’m at city hall, I’ll hex him, too.” In a huff, Mavis left for lunch and gossip.
When Mavis hexed someone, she did it with gossip. Whoever that poor utility guy was, he was about to have a rough week. Clancy could probably chew gossips for breakfast, but they had no good proof that he was responsible for the mains, except that was how small-town politics worked.
Mavis returned from lunch looking satisfied. With impeccable timing, Loretta arrived right after her.
Having made a few calls of her own concerning the utility situation, Evie was confident they wouldn’t be immediately waterless. She and Loretta returned to the house for lunch—where R&R were filling the refrigerator with their idea of food.
Rolling her eyes at their pre-packaged, barely-meat patties, she dug in the freezer for shredded pork from a local farm. “There’s a grill in the carriage house, or you can wait and see what I do to this.”
“Barbecue sauce?” Reuben asked eagerly.
“Not on tortillas.”
The men were arguing over their favorite barbecue sauces when the house phone rang. With the receiver propped on her shoulder, Evie opened Aunt Val’s homemade salsa. “Sensible Solutions.” She used to answer itPsychicSolutions, but Mavis was handling those calls now.
“They’ve just found Fred Clancy dead at city hall,” Jax said without preamble. “Your mother visited there shortly before he was found.”
