A Fatal Fleece by Sally Goldenbaum Page A

to make a point,” Ben said. “Beatrice got his goat at the city council meeting. But I saw him help her into her car the other day. Not a bad bone in the man’s body, though he likes to cause a stir.”
    “Of course you’re right,” Esther said, waving the air. “I just don’t like to see him getting ornery. It’s bad for his blood pressure. He doesn’t look all that healthy to me.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought, “He wants the police to keep his daughter away, too,” she said. “And that does bother me a bit. It doesn’t seem a good way to live, separated from family like that.”
    “No, it doesn’t,” Nell said. And it didn’t sound like the Finnegan she knew. Whatever bad blood existed between him and his daughter, this was a drastic step.
    Esther smiled warmly as Cass and Danny joined the group. She put one hand on Cass’ arm. “But no matter how many people Finnegan shoos away, he specifically mentioned that Cass can come on his property anytime.”
    “Along with her mother’s cooking,” Izzy laughed.
    Cass agreed. “And with a boatload of warnings. ‘Walk here.’ ‘Don’t walk there.’ It’s crazy what I have to go through to give him a pot of stew.”
    Danny stood on the outside of the group, quiet, his eyes on Cass.
    Nell watched him watching her. And then, with a start, she touched her forehead, a light going on. Why, he’s in love with her. Danny Brandley loves Cass. It was suddenly as clear as day. Although they’d been spending plenty of time together, Cass had insisted—especially in recent weeks—that they were good friends. That’s all, she said in a voice that forbade argument.
    But the look in Danny’s eyes tonight spoke of something far deeper than friendship. Nell glanced at Cass as she took a sip of wine. Did she love him in return? Months ago Nell would have said yes. But tonight she wasn’t sure. Cass was difficult to read these days.
    She moved closer to him as the others discussed Finnegan’s strange directives.
    “You okay, Danny? I hear the tour was a success.”
    “Tour? Oh, the book.” He shoved his fingers through his thick blond hair. “Yeah, it was fine.”
    “But?”
    He looked over at Cass. She was talking to Ben, her face unreadable. “Sometimes I can’t figure her out.”
    “She’s very independent. But you know that, I suspect.”
    “I like that about her. But she has a loan coming due soon. It’s killing her. It’d be so easy for me to help now that I have some extra money, but she insists she doesn’t need my help. It’ll work out, she says.”
    Nell had no answer for him. Sometimes she wanted to shake Cass, too, to tell her that accepting help didn’t have a thing to do with being independent or less strong. But she suspected that when it came to accepting help from a man who clearly loved you, it added a new dimension to the situation, especially if you hadn’t sorted through your own feelings yet.
    “And the other love of that man’s life these days seems to be little Gabby,” Esther was saying to the group. She lifted a tiny crab cake from a tray and looked at it with great delight. “I suspect if she asked Finnegan for his whole raggedy piece of land, he’d give it to her, no questions asked. That sweet girl has brought a liveliness to the old man I haven’t seen since his Moira died.”
    With a wave good-bye, the dispatcher shuffled off to the other side of the room to monitor the appetizers her husband was piling on a small paper plate.
    Nell spotted Birdie talking with Ham and Jane Brewster just outside the veranda doors. She headed that way. Ben followed. “No Nick?” he asked to Nell’s back.
    Birdie heard the question. “No,” she said, rising on tiptoe to kiss Ben’s cheek. “He and Gabby had a date for dinner at Duckworth’s in Gloucester. Gabby suggested they invite Ella and Harold, too. They were thrilled, of course. Ella went out and bought a new dress.”
    Birdie’s face lit up as she