Threads of Deceit (Vineyard Quilt Mysteries Book 1) by Mae Fox, Jan Fields Page B

get the wrong idea.
    “What?”
    “I think we need to find out more about the person who made the offer to buy the farm,” Julie said. “That was really the beginning of all the problems at the dig. I think if we find that person, we’ll find someone new for the police to look at for George’s death.”
    As Daniel peeled long green strips from the apple, he nodded. “Sounds like a reasonable idea, but Joseph said the lawyer didn’t give the name of his client.”
    “No, but that can possibly be overcome,” Julie said. Hannah looked up at her sharply and shook her head. Julie pointedly didn’t look directly at her. “First, we need the name of the lawyer.”
    “Joseph didn’t tell me.”
    “But he probably would,” Julie said, “if you asked him.”
    Hannah gave her another sharp shake of her head and again Julie ignored her.
    Daniel set down the apple and wiped his hands on the edge of his apron. He fished out his cellphone from his hippocket. The call was quick and efficient. “Joseph said the lawyer’s name was Randall Cantor.”
    Julie looked up the attorney in the phone book stuffed into a row of cookbooks on the kitchen’s narrow bookshelf. She knew the address, though she’d never noticed a law office on that street. It was downtown. “Everything’s quiet here. I think I’ll drive over and meet Mr. Cantor. You care to come?”
    Again Hannah shook her head, adding a fierce glare this time, but Julie kept most of her attention firmly on Daniel. He turned to Hannah. “I hate to bail in the middle of the tarts.”
    “That’s fine.” Hannah’s response sounded slightly less gracious through clenched teeth. “I can finish.”
    Julie held up a hand. “On second thought, stay here for a bit longer. I want to ask Shirley about Cantor. I’ve yet to hear of anyone in Straussberg that Shirley doesn’t know something about.”
    “Fine with me.” Daniel walked over to wash his hands. “That woman scares me. I think it’s the hair.”
    As Julie expected, Shirley had lots of opinions about the lawyer, and not one of them was good. “That one has a reputation sure enough—a reputation for doing anything for his client for enough money. He’s about as ethical as a shark.”
    But is he as deadly? Julie wondered.
    She collected Daniel, and they drove into downtown Straussberg. The sun was warm, but the breeze was chilly, making scarlet and gold leaves skip and scuttle along the sidewalks. They parked in the complimentary visitor’s lot and made the hike to the office. Though small, the office was neat and the furniture looked new. Julie didn’t care for the style, all metal and sharp angles, but it did hint of more success than the cramped space implied.
    When Julie asked to see Mr. Cantor, the woman turnedup her sharply pointed nose and asked, “Do you have an appointment?”
    “No, but you can tell him it’s in reference to the sale of the Winkler farm.”
    The receptionist narrowed her eyes but passed along the message. In moments, a door opened and a thick man with the face of a dyspeptic bulldog walked out. “Mr. and Mrs. Winkler? Please, come in.”
    Julie ignored the implied question. She reached out and squeezed Daniel’s hand, giving him a warning glance. “Thank you. You were interested in buying the farm?”
    Cantor led them into his office, which matched the reception room in size and style. “I’m empowered to operate on behalf of an interested party.”
    “We’d like to know his name.”
    The lawyer’s smile tightened. “That I can’t tell you, Mrs. Winkler. The buyer insists upon staying anonymous.” He turned his attention from her to Daniel. “But I can assure you, Mr. Winkler, this is a legitimate offer. The buyer has the means to pay.”
    “I’m surprised the offer is still on the table,” Julie said, “what with all the excavating that’s already been done.”
    The lawyer glanced back at her, clearly annoyed that she kept talking. “It’s nothing that