View to a Crime

by Winnie Reed

  Pete muttered a curse that probably would’ve been right at home in the bars he used to frequent. He opened the door wider. “Come in.” There was no humor in his voice anymore.

  I followed him up the stairs to his second-floor apartment, which took up that entire level of the house. If I hadn’t been scared out of my wits, I might’ve expressed appreciation for the space, for the comfortable furniture and the array of vinyl albums lined up in a row beneath a turntable.

  All I was capable of doing was sinking into the nearest chair and urging myself not to fall completely apart. “It was so stupid. I shouldn’t have done it. I never imagined—”

  “One step at a time.” He pressed a glass into my hand and even went so far as to curl my fingers around it, making sure I had it in my grip. I looked down and must’ve shown my surprise, since Pete nudged my hand. “Whiskey. It’ll brace you.”

  I downed it in one gulp since I’d never much enjoyed sipping whiskey. It burned its way down my throat and spread that warmth through my chest. He took the glass and set it down on the coffee table, then crouched in front of me. “Okay. You emailed that girl and this was the reply you received.”

  I nodded. My chest might’ve felt warmer than before, but that did nothing for the panic rising in it. “I only said I hoped she was okay. That was all. I never imagined anybody else would read it. How stupid could I be? He must’ve taken her laptop, whoever he is.”

  “He might have, yes. It looks that way.” He covered my shaking hands, holding them still. “It’s going to be okay. You know, there are perks to having cops in the family.”

  “No! No, no, I don’t want Dad knowing about this. Oh, lord, I’ll never live it down.”

  Pete scowled. “Darcy, come on. I completely understand why you don’t like sharing these things with him. I get that you want to make sure he doesn’t worry too much. You’re concerned for his health. I get it. But this could be serious.”

  “No, Pete. I can’t do that to him.”

  He let out a long sigh that sounded like it might contain a tiny bit of anger. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? Do you understand how insane this sounds to somebody in my position?”

  “Insane? Now I’m insane?”

  “Not you. Your logic.” I pulled my hands away, and he groaned. “I know you’re upset, but try listening to reason on this. This guy, if it’s a guy, could already have looked you up. I’m sure you’re careful about keeping your personal information off the internet, but with all those articles lately…”

  I nodded slowly. “Exactly. They could find the store with no trouble. And here I was, enjoying the extra business. This has me wondering if I should close down for a few days.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Oh, now you don’t want me to take precautions? You should make up your mind.”

  He stood, resting his hands on his hips. “Why did you come here? To pick a fight? Because I would rather not. I’m trying to help you, and I imagine that’s what you came here for. Why bother if you won’t let me?”

  I ran my hands through my hair, groaning. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m scared, is all. I have no idea what to do now. But I would rather keep it from Dad, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Why? You know how furious he’ll be when he finds out you kept this from him? That could be worse than his reaction to this.” He motioned to my phone, sitting on the arm of the chair. “I know it’s easy to forget, but the man has experience. So do I. So does Joe, and I know he’d agree with me if he was here.”

  Nothing like feeling outnumbered. “I would rather figure this out on my own and not upset Dad. Or Emma.” I met his steely gaze. “I don’t want her worrying about this, either.”

  “You can’t do everything by yourself all the time. What gave you the idea you could, or had to?”

  I sat back in the chair with a sigh. “You told me about your childhood. Spending summers with your grandmom. Do you want to know what mine was like? I spent most of it in the café. I watched my mother handle everything on her own. She’d take on summer help, like a kid on an internship who was studying business or a culinary school student. That was it. Sprains, a broken wrist, it didn’t matter. She handled it and never complained.” I threw my hands into the air. “Do I know that’s not the healthiest way to handle things? Yes. But it’s always easier to look in on somebody else’s decisions and judge, right? She had her reasons. I have my reasons. That’s how it is.”

  “Impossible. You’re impossible.”

  “And you’ve been spending too much time with my dad, since you’re sounding more and more like him all the time.” I stood, tucked my phone in my pocket, and took hold of the leash again. “Sorry I bothered you. I’m going home.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not? I should’ve known what I’d get before I even left.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone right now.” He tried to block my way, but I nudged past him. I wasn’t in the mood for his fatherly attitude, and it was probably better for us to not be in the same place at that point. In the small part of my brain still capable of rational thought, I knew better than to risk that. I didn’t want to say anything I couldn’t take back.

  “I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern.” I picked Lola up rather than waiting for her to navigate her way down the steep stairs, then set her down again once we were outside. My legs were shaking and I wanted nothing more than to cry my eyes out.

  And I had managed to alienate the only person I trusted right now. The first person who’d come to mind once I could think clearly, once the initial horror had passed after reading that threatening email. Way to go, Darcy. I considered turning around and apologizing before begging for help, but pride got in the way.

  Pride and a very real concern for my family. Pete didn’t understand how I felt, obviously. The last thing I wanted was to scare Dad or Mom or Emma.

  The one thing that helped me breathe easier was knowing my personal address was nowhere on the internet. One of the results of having a cop for a parent. If I Googled my name, which I’d done in the past, there was nothing to show of my former addresses. I knew my way around that sort of thing, just like Emma did. We’d grown up watching Dad take pains with his personal information—Cape Hope was generally a quiet little down in the off-season, but once rowdy, drunken tourists took over during the summer? All bets were off. He didn’t want some random out-of-towner to be able to look up his home address after he’d locked them up overnight for fighting or some other shenanigans.

  So even if the attacker had driven down from Paradise City to look for me, they wouldn’t know where to start beyond the store. I could walk without being afraid, the way I normally could in my hometown.

  It had turned into a beautiful night. The rain was supposed to start up again in the morning, but for now there was a nice breeze blowing through the streets. It was late enough that most of the businesses in town were long since closed for the night, giving me a little peace as I walked Lola back to my apartment.

  I didn’t realize until it was too late to turn back that I’d taken the route that would lead me past Ethan’s shop. The dining room was dark, the door locked, but I could see a light burning through the window in the kitchen door. It wasn’t hard to imagine him back there, working hard well after everybody else had left for the night.

  For a second, I considered walking down the alley and knocking at the back door. Maybe he’d have an idea that would help.

  Bad idea. He’d only give me a repeat of what I’d heard from Pete, and I wasn’t in the mood for that. Not that I normally was, but tonight was especially difficult.

  Besides, it had only been hours since my date with Pete. Somehow, it would’ve felt wrong to sneak into Ethan’s kitchen when I had just been out with another man. That kiss still hung over me, making me second-guess everything between us. It was smarter to stay away.

  Which left me alone again. “You’d think I’d be used to
it by now.”

  Lola replied by relieving herself near a tree.

  I had to do something. That much was obvious. This jerk, whoever he was, thought it would be easy to intimidate me. To make me feel small and scared.

  And he’d succeeded up to this point, sad to say. I wasn’t proud of how deep he’d already wormed his way into my head. How terrified that email had left me, even when I knew darn well it wouldn’t be easy for whoever it was to walk through my front door. It might all have been an attempt to keep my mouth shut, though it might’ve been smarter for them to leave me alone entirely. I was on the verge of moving on with my life and hadn’t even thought about Jane all evening. In a few days, I might not have thought about her at all.

  Another thing I wasn’t very proud of, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

  Every step I took hardened me a little further. Every time my feet hit the pavement, I grew a little more determined. A little more defiant. Who did they think they were? It wasn’t bad enough they’d hurt a girl, now they had to menace me, too?

  By the time I reached the house, where Poppy’s lights still burned behind her windows and the porch looked so warm and welcoming, I was downright steely. They might’ve thought they wanted to find me, that faceless creep, but now I wanted to find them more.

  We’d see who got there first.

  Chapter Ten

  “You’re sure you can handle things this afternoon?” I took one more look around the store, afraid I might be forgetting something though there wasn’t anything to forget. Becca certainly knew her way around. Still, it was Friday, and that was usually one of our busiest days. It could’ve been guilt that had me second-guessing my decision to take the afternoon off.

  She waved a hand, snickering. “Please. I could run this place with my eyes closed, just like you could.” Yes, but I’d been there since the beginning. I’d been the one to first open the doors. She had picked up the ball and continued running with it, to the point where there were times when it felt like she was way ahead of me.

  I paused before leaving when something occurred to me. “Hey. Uh, there might be somebody coming in, asking about me. I don’t know for sure, but they could. I wanted to let you know.”

  “Not Officer Pete, right?” She giggled. “No, I’d recognize him from the lovesick look he’s always wearing.”

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Pete was the last person I needed to think about just then. I’d have to apologize to him eventually, but this was not the time. I was still a little ticked at him for taking that paternal tone, not to mention the hands on his hips. He might as well have been talking to a child.

  “Hey! See you tonight!”

  I stopped halfway out the door and turned back. “Tonight?”

  “The book club meeting! Did you forget?”

  My heart sank, and I was barely able to hold back a groan. I had forgotten all about it, even with the assistance of a display with the date printed on it in big letters. I saw that danged display a hundred times a day. It must’ve faded into the background.

  Or I was way too distracted to remember. That was more likely.

  “Right, I’ll be home in plenty of time for that. Thanks for reminding me.” We made plans to log on and make sure everything was working smoothly before eight, when the meeting was supposed to start.

  Only Becca would schedule a book club meeting on a Friday night when most people had other things to do, though the interest in it was more than enough of a reason to think we’d stumbled onto a great idea. Rather, she’d stumbled and I’d followed behind, a little vague but willing to give it a shot.

  There was a list of locations on my phone, complete with addresses and the names of the people Jane had referenced in her articles. None of them seemed awfully threatening or important on the surface. A restaurant that had reopened after a fire thanks to neighborhood fundraisers. Another that had been in business for a century and had recently celebrated with a huge block party. It didn’t seem likely that I’d find anything much there, but I wanted to get a look in case any shady characters happened to be around.

  There were animal shelters on the list—mostly pieces written with the intention of encouraging readers to stop in and adopt a pet. I doubted there was much of a threat there, unless Jane had somehow uncovered an underground animal fighting ring or something to the effect. I decided to check those out, too. Maybe I’d find something that seemed out of place.

  “What am I doing?” There was nobody else in the car to answer, of course, as I drove up the parkway. If only Jane had written about failing casinos or abandoned waterfront property. I could work with a lead like that. But an animal shelter? A beloved family restaurant? Not exactly threatening. I was making up reasons to visit these places.

  I was wasting time.

  But I was already in the car, too, and halfway to Paradise City. I’d never stop asking myself questions if I didn’t at least check things out.

  Dad would be furious if he knew I was doing this. Well, first he’d roll his eyes and ask who I thought I was. He’d accuse me of reading too many mysteries as a kid, like I’d warped my brain or something like that. He would most definitely accuse me of being no better than my sister, who had always been the sleuth in the family, much to his chagrin.

  Then, he’d be furious.

  He hadn’t heard her. He hadn’t witnessed the attack, what there was of it.

  He hadn’t sat there, mute, dumbstruck, terrified. I could’ve said something. I should’ve said something. I might’ve stopped the guy if he’d realized somebody was watching. No, I wasn’t there in person, but I could’ve threatened to call the police. I could’ve done it then and there, while Jane’s attack took place.

  No. I’d been too worried about myself.

  Even if it was only human, reacting that way, I couldn’t forgive myself. Every time I closed my eyes to go to sleep, I opened the door to a flood of self-reproach that took the form of eyes watching me from the darkness, judging me silently. Somehow, that silence was worse than anything I could imagine.

  I had to do something, even if it was way too late to help her. I had to at least try to see to it the person who attacked her paid for what they’d done.

  And if I managed to find out what Jane had uncovered that led to the attack, so much the better. Curiosity was just about killing me.

  I winced. Poor choice of words.

  I stopped by the animal shelter first and ended up wishing I hadn’t. Not because it was miserable or because anybody treated me badly.

  I wanted to take every single dog home with me. My heart just about exploded at the sight and sound of them, all playing and frisky and wanting attention with their little tails wagging like crazy. “This was a mistake.”

  “Hmm?” The girl who’d welcomed me in shot me a curious look.

  “Nothing. I’m actually here because I read about your shelter in the paper a couple weeks back.”

  She smiled wide, revealing shiny braces. “Jane’s article? I was here the day she came in. She was so nice. We had a couple of puppies here then and they climbed all over her. They got adopted pretty soon after the article went live.”

  “Oh, really? That’s great.”

  “Yeah, we had a lot of applications come in after that.” She eyed me. “You want one for yourself?”

  I bit my lip. It wasn’t against my lease, or else I wouldn’t be able to have Lola with me when Emma went away. But a week was a heck of a lot different from every day.

  Or so I told myself after taking the clipboard and pen from the girl and filling in my information.

  Terrific. I was doing a great job of this.

  There weren’t any dumpsters full of dead animals out back—I had seen that once on TV—and everything inside looked on the up-and-up. It didn’t seem like there was any threat here. It came as a relief. I didn’t want to think about poor animals being abused.

  I went to the rebuilt restaurant next, where Italian food was the sp
ecialty. My mouth watered at the aroma of garlic, onions and tomatoes drifting out from the open door. I realized I hadn’t eaten lunch, so this was as good a reason as any to take a seat inside.

  What struck me right away was how friendly everybody was. From the article Jane had written—a framed copy of which hung on the wall near the cash register—I knew the place was third-generation. The grandparents helped out where they could, ringing up checks and keeping the reservation book in order. Their son and his wife were current owners, and they ran the kitchen while their three teenage children waited tables during the summer.

  It brought to mind the café, especially when a few obvious regulars joked and teased with the elderly past owners. Everybody here was family, everybody knew each other’s pasts. Apparently, Grandpa was quite the dashing guy back in the day and used to bring the neighborhood ladies into the restaurant in droves.

  He brought me my meatball sub, his posture stooped and his feet shuffling against the tile floor. When he winked, though, and flashed a dashing smile, I could imagine what a heartbreaker he used to be. I watched, smiling to myself, as he pulled his wife to her feet behind the front counter so they could dance while he sang an old Frank Sinatra song. Their friends seated nearby clapped, laughing.

  Something told me there was no threat here. But boy, could they make a red sauce. It was good enough to make me consider driving all this way more often.

  I was getting nowhere fast. At least by the time I left the restaurant, it was with a full stomach. There was something to show for my misguided sleuthing efforts.

  In the car, I decided to get honest with myself. This wasn’t helping, going from place to place in the hopes of learning something about Jane’s past interviews. What did I think I’d find? Somebody bragging about how they broke into the newspaper office and—

  I sat up straighter.