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intend to win the free weekend at the Grand Hotel. The hotel is giving the prize to the whole team that solves the case; isn’t that fantastic? Thanks for your help, and we’ll be sure and tell the police officer you sent us over so he cooperates this time around.”
    Before I could tell her
Oh, please don’t do that
, Gabi and her followers trotted out the door. Rudy leaned against the workbench, his mustache curved in an even bigger smile than before. “Nate Sutter will make you the next victim after sending these people over to him; you know that, don’t you?”
    â€œI was desperate to get rid of them, and they will keep Nate busy for a while till I can find out where in the world Fiona is.” I did a little innocent shrug. “And I sort of already sent another group his way. If Sutter’s going to make me a victim, I might as well really deserve it.”
    Rudy laughed. It was one of those big laughs that filled the room, but it sent little tremors down my spine. Nate Sutter was all cop and I was one big pain in his butt.
    â€œYou couldn’t be content with just Irma wanting to string you up by your toenails. Now you’ve got Nate on your back?” Rudy said. “You really think that shamrock around your neck is enough to keep you safe after all this?”
    â€œNot a snowball’s chance in hell, but Fiona’s my friend. I can’t sit back and do nothing.”
    Rudy sobered. “Yeah, she’s my friend too, and this is serious.” Rudy checked his watch and handed me the socket. “Can you finish up? My latest batch of Mojito Madness fudge is ready and I need to get it sliced up and in the display case for the afternoon rush of fudgies.” He pointed to a screw and nut under the seat. “Just tighten this. Remember,
righty tighty, lefty loosey
. We want the tighty part, not the loosey. Can’t have the seat fall off when the kids are riding. Bad for business.”
    Rudy gave Cleveland and Bambino some of the treats he kept in his pocket. They purred and cuddled up to him like sweet little darling kitties from some YouTube video.
    I rented out the Star Wars bike for a week, the Grand Hotel bike and all three of the Downton Abbeys. I started in on my newest paint job, the doggie bike. My plan was to get a little cart that hitched onto the back—a pooch caboose—where the dog could ridealong. Earlier this spring I tried a cat carrier and took Cleveland and Bambino for a test run.
Bad idea
took on a whole new meaning.
    I got out the tube of raw sienna for a golden retriever for the puppy bike and ivory black for the black lab, and spotted a woman putting papers in the
Town Crier
newspaper stand across the street in front of Doud’s Market. Donna said Fiona’s dad did the deliveries this week, and her mom was here on the island too. My guess was this was Mom, and maybe she knew where Fiona was. With it being ten minutes till twelve, Fiona needed to get to the police station before Sutter imploded.
    â€œHi,” I said, coming up to the newspaper stand. “I’m a friend of Fiona’s and I’m wondering where she is. I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”
    The lady was tall and thin like Fiona, her graying hair pulled back in a loose bun with a pencil jabbed through it. My guess was that the pencil part came from running the
Crier
for twenty-five years.
    â€œShe lost some tote bag that she really likes,” the woman said while stacking the papers. “I don’t know what’s so special about a tote bag, but it’s got her in a state.”
    The bag! If Fiona left it somewhere, anyone could have taken the olive oil bottle, smacked the Peep over the head and framed Fiona for the deed. “I’m Evie Bloomfield; I operate the bike shop across the street. Fiona and I are friends. In fact, I gave her that tote. It has
I
the Town Crier
on it and—”
    The woman stopped stacking papers