View to a Crime

by Winnie Reed

  I pointed to my laptop, where one of Michael’s articles sat. “Listening to him, you would think they were opening a new Disney location. There are times when I was rolling my eyes as I read. The whole thing seems really off to me.”

  He stirred around a container of lo mein, his brow furrowed in thought. “What do you think it means?”

  “I’m not sure what it means. Doesn’t it seem funny that Mr. Fitzwilliams is now on medical leave, and has been for two months? Maybe he’s the one who found something he wasn’t supposed to find. Maybe they’re after him. Maybe he’s hiding just like Jane is.”

  Now that was the reaction I wanted. His mouth fell open—fortunately, it had been empty at the time. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying she’s hiding, like I told you she said in that email. Did you read it when I forwarded it to you?” He nodded. “What if this guy’s doing the same thing? What if some bad guy broke his legs or something and now that he’s recovered, he’s laying low? What if he’s protecting his family? What if he was never sick at all?”

  “What if Jane found something she wasn’t supposed to find?”

  “Exactly. She’s Little Miss Industrious, at least according to everybody we’ve talked to. She struck me as being really sweet and earnest and honest. She could’ve noticed something amiss and followed the trail of breadcrumbs.”

  Pete was quiet for a long time, slowly chewing. I wanted to scream, wanted to beg him to say something, anything. So long as he didn’t leave me hanging in silence.

  Finally, he wiped his mouth and set his napkin aside. The look on his face told me he wasn’t eager to burst my bubble, like a parent on the verge of telling their kids there wasn’t really a Santa Claus. “I think we have to consider another theory.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like somebody watching the office. Somebody seeing us going in, or maybe getting word from somebody working inside that we’ve been asking questions. If Fitzwilliams is the bad guy here, he could’ve gotten word, and he could’ve sent you that message to throw you off-track so you would at least think Jane was okay.”

  Yep, there went my balloon, busted all over the place. My wonton soup didn’t taste so good anymore. “Of course, you’re right. I didn’t think about that way.”

  “I mean, it could’ve been Jane. I think we need to stay open to all possibilities. If this guy is desperate and in hiding, he’s bound to do anything to keep himself safe. Compared to everything he’s done for you so far, sending an email pretending to be his victim is nothing.”

  I was telling myself to accept this when my phone rang. “Uh-oh.” Pete winced at my reaction. “You don’t look too happy.”

  “I’m not.” I answered the call. “Joe, I have a bone to pick with you.”

  My brother-in-law groaned. “I’m sorry, okay? Maybe you should tell a guy next time when this sort of thing happens. I hate having to hear about it secondhand. It makes you feel any better, I practically had to drag it out of Em.”

  “It doesn’t really make me feel better, but fine. You can pay me back if you want to.”

  “Hang on a second. I’m the one who called you. Don’t start asking for favors just yet.”

  “Fine. What do you need?”

  “It’s not that I need anything. I wanted to let you know that whoever accessed the building on Tuesday night used one of the temporary visitors passes. Not their own. So that lead is a dead end.”

  I was getting sick and tired of dead ends. To put it mildly. “I don’t know why I expected anything different.”

  He sighed. “I know. It’s never easy, finding out a lead won’t go anywhere. What can I do for you?”

  “You lived in Paradise City for a while, right? Did you ever have any run-ins with anyone involved in that big land development deal downtown?”

  He snickered. “You mean the one that was supposed to revitalize the city’s downtown area and pave the streets in gold?” From the level of sarcasm in his voice, I got my answer.

  “One of the three journalists at the paper who’ve won the award in my photos spent around six months writing about that deal, just earlier this year. He’s now away from the paper on medical leave. At least that’s what we were told. I’ll forward you some of his articles, and you’ll see why they stood out to me. It’s almost like somebody wanted him to write what he wrote. Like he was acting as PR for the project.”

  “And keeping in mind who was supposedly behind the development…”

  “I knew there had to be a reason my sister married you.”

  That got a laugh out of him. “You mean besides the fact that I’m the only person who’ll put up with her? There’s a reason I’m a detective, Darce. I didn’t join the force yesterday.”

  “Of course, of course.”

  “You’re right, that’s a pretty decent reason to look into this guy. Shoot me some of his work. I’ll pass your theory on to my friends in the department and see what they think about it. This guy could be in hiding for all we know—or somebody could’ve taken him out already.”

  “I hope not.” And not only because that would be a pretty grim twist. I didn’t want to lose our last viable lead. “I was thinking, maybe Jane found out something she wasn’t supposed to. What if she was assigned some work related to that project now that Michael’s on leave? It’s possible, right?”

  “We might be able to get that information out of her editor. He would know better.”

  I snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  “Yeah, well, you’d be surprised what a uniform and a badge can do to loosen up a person’s tongue. I’ll check in with you when I hear anything.” We ended the call there, and I found myself feeling better than I had before. Like we were making progress, after all.

  “See?” Pete set down his chopsticks and reached over, taking my hand. “Sometimes, when you ask for help, help is given. You don’t have to do everything all by yourself.” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of it, his eyes locked with mine.

  It was a sweet moment, verging on perfect.

  So why wasn’t my heart in it? Why did I wish he hadn’t kissed my hand?

  Why did my thoughts immediately go back to Ethan, and why did I feel guilty?

  I really needed to get my head screwed on straight.

  Chapter Twenty

  By Tuesday night, I was sure I would go stir crazy. “All these years, I’ve been calling my mother a workaholic.” I tousled Lola’s fur while she napped next to me. She probably didn’t appreciate being woken up very much, but then she napped most of the day anyway so something told me she would make up for lost time eventually. “I’m starting to think it’s genetic.”

  I had nothing to do. I was afraid to go to the store, afraid to even go out on my own. My apartment was cleaner than it had ever been and my skin smelled like cleaning products. Ethan wouldn’t talk to me, and I couldn’t keep calling Pete every time I was bored or lonely. I liked him so much, but I was still conflicted. I didn’t want him to think there was more to us than there was.

  Especially when I remember the look in his eye when he kissed my hand. It should’ve made me happy, seeing that look. The intensity behind it. All it did was leave me feeling guilty and uncomfortable.

  Things had to get better soon, or I wasn’t sure what I would do.

  At least Becca was still speaking to me, and still interested in working at the store. We’d chatted earlier in the day about the number of orders that were coming in through the website. Neither of us felt comfortable going to the store to package the books. It would have to wait until we reopened, which I hoped would be very soon. When we did, and once it came time to process those orders, we would be up to our necks in work.

  I would have given just about anything at that moment to be up to my neck in work.

  “At least your mommy’s coming home tomorrow. Are you excited about that?” At the mention of the M-word, Lola’s head snapped up. “Soon, sweetie. You’ll see her tomorrow.”

&
nbsp; And that was literally all I had to look forward to. Hanging out with my sister. Even that couldn’t last too long, since she had to drive to Boston on Friday and would be staying the weekend to write an article about a bed-and-breakfast that had just opened. She’d be hanging out with her best friend Raina while she worked. I envied them both, even though I knew just from the past couple of days that spending that much time away from the store would be sheer torture.

  It was nearing seven o’clock when Joe called, and I just about jumped on the phone. “Please tell me you have good news.”

  “I don’t know. Would you consider bringing Michael Fitzwilliams in for questioning good news?”

  “They found him?” I sat bolt upright on the couch. “What happened? Do you know any details?”

  “Only that he’s scared out of his mind, and desperate for nobody to know where he is. They tracked him down using his cell signal, it looks like he’s been moving around the past two days.” Wow, so the police were taking this more seriously than I had given them credit for. “They showed up at the door to his motel room and he came out, hands up, begging for leniency.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “It’s looking more and more like your theory was right. Mitch told me he already admitted to accepting bribes from some pretty high-level guys in the company behind the project, and now he wants our protection. He’s ready to spill his guts.”

  “What a relief!”

  “I’m sure it must be. Still, lay low. We have a lot of pieces in play here—or rather, the Paradise City Police Department does. Sometimes it’s easy to forget I’m not with them anymore.”

  “You’re not with anyone right now besides your family.”

  “And you have no idea how it’s been irking both of us, being here while you’re going through that. I know your sister will sleep a lot better once she knows you’re okay.” He cleared his throat “I will, too, for what it’s worth.”

  “It’s worth a lot. Thank you. And thank you for taking me seriously and not brushing me off. You have no idea how much that means.” I promised to be a good girl and lay low for a while before we ended the call. I could hear Sharon announcing dinner was ready, and I sent as much patience to my sister as I could. One last family dinner, Emma. You can do it.

  So Mitch Fitzwilliams was in police custody. I almost wanted to drive up there, to look at him face-to-face. To force him to look at me and admit what he’d done.

  Instead, there was something much more interesting on my mind. I changed, clipped Lola’s leash and set out for the store. There was nothing left to worry about. I could go back to living my life.

  And processing orders, which was at the forefront of my mind while walking the familiar route. I didn’t want us to end up with a reputation for making customers wait ages to get their delivery. I told myself this was as much for the sake of my business as it was for my own sake, getting myself out of the house and feeling useful again.

  Even the smell inside the store relaxed me, but then the smell of books always had. “I might need therapy.” And I was talking to myself, too, while using my four-legged companion as an excuse. The doctor would have a field day with me.

  For the next couple of hours, I busied myself with work. Packaging up books, printing invoices, shipping labels. I liked to include a little bookmark with every book, too, and I normally wrote a message on the back like thanks for your support or I hope you like this as much as I did, that sort of thing. A personal touch, the sort of thing that made people want to go back to a business rather than trying out something new.

  My laptop was open on my desk, half-buried by padded envelopes and small boxes. I had a playlist going, something to fill the silence. When a ringing sound replaced the music, I looked up to find Emma trying to get a hold of me. Even the ringing didn’t scare me anymore, didn’t make my heart lurch for fear of who might be waiting on the other end of the call.

  She was all smiles. “I heard they got the guy! I’m so relieved. You have no idea.”

  “I think I do, though.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “Are you sure some of your excitement doesn’t have to do with coming home tomorrow?” I tried to phrase the question as neutral as possible, just in case there was anybody nearby who might take personally any hint of her unhappiness.

  “It’ll be nice to sleep in our bed again. Though I’ll be traveling up to Boston at the end of the week, anyway.”

  “But you’ll get to see Raina, too. You haven’t seen each other since you announced the baby, have you?”

  “No, but she’s been busy helping with the bed-and-breakfast whenever she has time.” One of the cases Emma had accidentally stumbled across involved a childhood friend of Raina’s who’d opened a bed and breakfast, only to find a dead body in the attic. By the time they’d wrapped things up, Raina had come around to the fact that she and Nate were more than friends. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they announce wedding plans by the end of the summer.”

  “That would be nice. Hopefully she’ll hold off until you have the baby and can fit into a halfway decent bridesmaid dress.”

  She giggled. “Raina? Vegas elopement is more her style.”

  “Yeah, I feel like that fits better.”

  “What about you?”

  “Am I going to elope to Vegas? Not anytime soon.” I sealed up another envelope and placed the address sticker on the front, then made sure everything was in order before putting it aside with the rest of the completed orders.

  “You’ve been spending more time with Pete lately. You know, men talk just as much as women do.”

  “Don’t tell me he was talking to Joe about me.”

  “Would that be so bad? And no, he just mentioned the two of you went out, and then again he mentioned you went to the newspaper together, and then Joe said he could hear Pete in the background at your apartment last night when he called, so… Two and two make four.”

  “Not always.”

  “You’re not sure about him?”

  “I mean, he’s a great guy. The best. I’m just wondering if I should feel that… spark, you know? Or is that just something I read about in a book once and it stuck in my head?”

  “That’s very possible.” When I groaned, she laughed gently. “I didn’t feel a spark with Joe right away, or even after a little while. I was sure he hated me. We argued all the time.”

  That brought somebody to mind, didn’t it? Someone with whom I always managed to get into an argument. I hated that I thought of Ethan right way, but there it was. I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wished he had never kissed me.

  Especially because there was no way in the world I could tell my sister about it. She would lose it, big time. It would’ve been nice to confide in her.

  Lola surprised me by growling. Emma noticed it first, probably because she was more in tune with her dog than I was. “Is she growling? What’s wrong?”

  I looked down at the dog, who was definitely staring out the office door, into the store. There was a low growl rumbling in her chest. I had only heard her growl that way once before.

  And I didn’t like the implication, since that was the day I could’ve been shot.

  I held a finger to my lips, signaling Emma to stay quiet, before slowly leaning over to peek out into the store. I could see straight through to the front door.

  The front door that I could see even from my office was unlocked. I had forgotten to lock it. Then again, if anybody came in, I would’ve heard the bell chime.

  The bell that no longer hung over the door. It was missing. But it had chimed when I came in, hadn’t it? Or did it? I was so used to hearing the thing, I didn’t think twice about it anymore.

  “What is it?” Emma was whispering with her mouth close to the speaker.

  I shook my head, distracted by what I saw, trying to figure out what it all meant. Only when I heard what sounded like a book getting slapped down on a hard surface did I jump, my heart in my throat.


  Instinct took over. I muted my speaker so nothing Emma said would be audible. She could still see and hear me, though. I raised my voice. “Who’s out there?” A quick glance at the screen showed Emma with both hands over her mouth. “Who are you?”

  Silence. I held Lola back for fear of what might happen if she ran out into the store. With one hand, I typed a message to my sister using the chat feature. Somebody’s in here. I don’t know who.

  She wrote back. I’m calling the police. I wasn’t about to stop her. Even if I was imagining things, which I didn’t think I was, it would be worth the peace of mind.

  I stood on shaking legs, with Lola under one arm. “I said, who’s out there?” With my other hand, I picked up my computer—then, thinking again, I set it down and minimized the Zoom window. Emma disappeared, which hurt me more than I would’ve guessed, but I didn’t want whoever it was to know there was somebody connected. I hoped she would still be able to hear me and whoever else was there.

  I then carried both the dog and the laptop from the office into the store. Only the knowledge of the police being on their way very soon kept me moving.

  “You should have minded your own business.” Then, a bell rang in the back corner, where shadows made it difficult to see. “You should also remember to lock your door. Somebody could open it an inch or two, reach up and yank that bell off its hook.” So that was how he did it. I was too involved in my talk with Emma to notice.

  “What are you doing here? Who do you think you are, coming here like this?” Had the police let Fitzwilliams off so soon? Why would he come straight to me? So many questions swirled in my head as something moved in the darkness.

  He was wearing black again, the same ball cap, the same bandanna. I couldn’t see his face, not even his eyes.

  But I could very much see the gun in his hand.

  “They’ll call it a robbery gone wrong. A reason why women shouldn’t wander around by themselves at night, in the dark. Why they should remember to lock their doors, especially when they’re running a business.”