I let Cat and Eddie sleep while I tossed and turned, trying to make the pieces fit. They needed it. Eddie was exhausted thanks to the grueling hours he kept at Tradava. Cat was living through a nightmare. It was like we’d traded lives: me with the solid job, the promising relationship, and the financial security. Her unexpectedly on her own weeks before having a baby, her store on the brink of financial ruin. For as long as I’d known her, I’d thought she had it all. If everything could change in an instant, then wasn’t the illusion of security a farce?
27
TUESDAY EARLY MORNING
There would be no sleeping in on my vacation. I woke first and left Cat and Eddie a note. Eddie’s VW Bug was in the driveway so I took his keys and drove to the closest bagel store. I bought breakfast sandwiches for each of us: eggs Florentine for Cat (spinach), egg white, gluten-free (no flavor) for Eddie, and double bacon, egg, and cheese (yum!) for me. The wind was picking up, and I struggled to keep the VW in my lane.
It was too early for the color that the sky had turned. A snowstorm was definitely coming. Nostalgia tugged at my heart. It would be nice to have the world blanketed in pure white. Mother Nature’s way of hiding all of the imperfections on the landscape of life.
I turned right at the restaurant on the corner and drove down the street, lost in thoughts of snowmen and icicles. It was the navy blue sedan, parked where Eddie’s VW had been, that pulled me back to reality. Who was visiting now?
I approached the front door with caution. I shouldn’t have left Cat alone, even for only a few minutes. The doorknob turned easily under my hand, which meant someone had left it unlocked. I entered and called out a tentative hello.
“In here,” Cat replied from the kitchen.
Jim sat across the table from Cat.
He pushed his chair back and stood up. “Samantha,” he said. “Nice to see you again.”
“Sure. I mean, you too.” Considering the photos I’d seen of him and Lela, I had a hard time making eye contact. “Where’s Eddie?”
“In the shower,” Cat said.
“If I’d have known you were coming, I would have gotten you a bagel.”
“Don’t apologize. I don’t eat bread,” He said, holding both hands up. “With what happened at the store yesterday, I thought maybe you forgot to give Cat the envelope I gave you. I called her and she invited me here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” I lied. Everybody knew I loved having sexed up murder suspects sitting around my dining room table. Especially ones who don’t eat carbs.
He turned to Cat. “Think about what I said. It might be exactly what you need.” He buttoned up his coat and picked up a brown wool hat from the table. “I’ll let myself out,” he said. “Bye, Samantha.”
I waited until the front door closed behind him to drop into the chair across from her. “He gave me something to give you. I forgot. I’m sorry.” I craned my neck to read the papers in front of her from my upside down angle. “What is that?”
“It’s an offer to buy back the store.”
“From Jim?”
She nodded. “He said he’s been thinking maybe he’d made a mistake when he sold me the store. He’s bored. He never expected that. I guess that’s the thing about retail. It’s a high-stress, high paced job and certain types of people are drawn to it, but the burn-out rate is high too. People are always happy when they get out, but in time they discover this huge gaping hole in their lives because suddenly everyone isn’t coming after them to solve their problems.”
“Is that how he described it?”
“No, that’s my own interpretation,” she said.
I powered up the tablet and swiped through the pictures of him and Lela quickly and then slowed by the ones after both had left. About twenty images later, I spotted something we’d missed.
“Look at this. These pictures are from after Jim and Lela left.”
I spun the tablet Cat’s direction. We’d already seen that Jim and Lela had been having an affair, conducted, at times, in Cat’s office. We had not seen Lela return to the office by herself. But the camera had caught her rifling through Cat’s desk.
“Didn’t you say Lela used to work at the store?” I asked.
“Yes, when Jim owned it.”
“How often does she go into your office?”
“I never knew she did until now.”
“What do you think she’s doing?”
“I have no idea.”
“Did she know about your jewelry strategy?”
“No, but I told Jim,” she said. “At the party.” She dropped her eyes. “I just wanted someone to talk to.”
“Did you tell him before or after he gave you an offer to buy back the store?”
She didn’t answer.
“Today wasn’t the first time he’s brought up buying you out, is it?”
“No,” she confessed.
“Did Jim say anything about Lela?” I stood up and approached the wall of observation. We’d labeled Lela a suspect and had pinned an incriminating photo of the two of them about to bring up the natural shine on Cat’s desk. The photo was missing, as was the sheet with Lela’s name.
“I thought it best not to let him see that we knew about that. When he arrived, I asked him to wait out front for a second. I said I was getting off the phone, but I came in here and took the notes down.”
“Good thinking.”
Cat silently stared at the table. “I talked to my parents last night. Their flight was canceled because of the weather. As soon as this is over I’m going to go stay with them.”
She looked at me. The events of the past few days had taken their toll on her and it was starting to show. There were dark circles under her eyes, her usually peaches and crème complexion had taken on a dull gray shade, and her normally erect posture had converted to slumped shoulders. She seemed defeated. How could she not? Every single thing she knew about her life had changed—except for the one thing that was going to change in the next month. Cat was the one person who seemed to have it all, but in the blink of an eye, she was on the verge of having nothing.
28
TUESDAY MORNING
The snowstorm started sometime during breakfast. At first, it was a couple of flurries. We gathered around the windows and watched, temporarily distracted by the miracle of nature. Thin flakes turned into fatter ones that coated the street. After forty-five minutes, it was undeniable. Our stretch of unseasonably warm weather in December had broken and this storm wasn’t going to subside for a while.
“I’m due at Tradava,” Eddie said. “At this rate they’re going to close, but I’m a member of senior management and probably the closest person to the store. Somebody has to be there to decide whether to open or close and if I leave it up to one of the merchandise managers, they’ll argue that we need the sales.” He pulled on his thick ski jacket. “Cat, do you want a ride?”
“I’m not on the way.”
“No, but if we leave now, I can get to your house and back to the store pretty quickly. Much longer and the roads are going to be too slick.”
They collected their things and left. Logan jumped onto the arm of my chair and climbed to the top of it. He ran his head across my nose and then gingerly stepped onto the white windowsill and lowered himself. Logan loved snowstorms, as long as he wasn’t required to go outside in them.
I cleaned up as best as I could and then sat at the kitchen table and stared at the wall of observation. Could Shana be telling the truth? I didn’t know. But if Shana truly believed that Cat was responsible for the murders, then both of their lives were in danger.
Despite the coffee, the questions, the snowstorm, and the general sense of unease, I fell asleep on the sofa. I woke to the sound of knocking on the front door. The room was dark. I got up and turned on the lamp on my end table. The switch clicked, but nothing happened. I moved to the wall and tried the dimmer. Nothing.
The knock continued. I moved to the window, cupped my hands around my eyes, and l
ooked outside. Nick’s truck was in my driveway. The rest of the neighborhood had been blanketed in white, creating an innocent setting. It was odd how peaceful it appeared in direct contrast to the crime wave at the outlets.
I opened the door and let Nick in. “Why’s it so dark in here?” He was bundled up in a cranberry hat, plaid scarf, and navy blue pea coat.
“The power must have gone out.” I flicked the light switch a few times to demonstrate. “How’d you get here?” I asked. “I mean, I know you drove, but it looks pretty bad out there.”
“I have snow tires on my car. You okay? I tried calling a few times but the call went straight to voicemail.”
“The battery was low. I plugged it in, but if the power went out then it couldn’t charge.” I headed to the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee? It’s probably cold but it’s relatively fresh.”
Nick hung his coat on the back of a kitchen chair and set his hat, gloves, and scarf on the table. His eyes swept over the walls, taking in Dante’s surveillance photos, the scribbled identifications, and our lists of clues, notes, and questionable activity. I was about to repeat my question when he replied.
“You need a shower. I’ll get the coffee.”
Alrighty-then.
The steaming water caressed my aching shoulders and back and I found myself becoming more aware of how little quality sleep I’d gotten of late. My mind became a blank canvas, absorbing the relaxing sensation of the shower beating down on me. Eventually the water turned cooler, a sign that the water heater was getting low. I got out, dried off and wrapped my hair up in the towel turban-style, and pulled on a plush robe.
The long shower had a side effect on me. Not only had it relaxed my muscles and settled my brain, it drained my last drops of energy. I was dizzy from the change in temperature and needed to sit down. I pulled the covers back from the bed and crawled between the sheets, resting my head against the pillow. I just needed a few minutes. I closed my eyes.
It was dark. I didn’t want to be awake. I shut my eyes and nestled further between the cozy down covers. A pair of arms encircled me, and I let out a quiet, sleepy moan as I readjusted my position. About a half second later my eyes popped open and I went rigid. Nick was next to me.
He pulled me close, holding me as though he wasn’t going to let go. We lay like that for a while, no questions, no answers, no danger.
I told him about the last twenty-four hours: Shana’s confession, Detective Madden’s visit, George’s hidden presents left behind in the fireplace, Jim and Lela’s affair in Cat’s office. Every time I hesitated before sharing more details he gently encouraged me to continue. It felt good to talk to him, to let it all out.
When I finished (more like when I finally paused for air), I wondered what was going through his mind. The longer we lay in silence, the more I worried that I’d said too much. Logan, not one recognize a moment when he sees it, chose that moment to howl for his dinner.
“I think you better get up and feed your cat.”
“Can’t we stay like this for a couple more minutes?” I mumbled, attempting to ignore the persistent cries from the floor.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Logan’s on a diet. He’s not going to starve.”
“I was referring to the fact that you’re very naked underneath that robe. Unless you want to conduct some more overnight surveillance…”
29
TUESDAY EVENING
“Now, who are these people?” Nick asked. We were in the kitchen. After our bedroom tryst, I dressed in a leopard printed cashmere lounging tunic and pants. We each held a flashlight aimed at the wall of observation. I’d also dug up a laser pointer that doubled as Logan’s favorite toy and used it to pinpoint different facts.
“That’s Jim Insendo, the man Cat bought the boutique from, and that’s Lela Sexton, one of Cat’s employees,” I said.
“They seem to like each other.”
I nodded. Standing in the kitchen bringing Nick up to speed on the investigation was one thing, but staring at the intimate photos of Jim and Lela, especially after just climbing out of bed with Nick, was a little uncomfortable (in a good way).
“So what’s their connection to Cat’s husband?”
“It’s complicated. Jim used to own Cat’s store. He offered to buy the boutique back from Cat just recently. See that picture of Lela leaving Cat’s office? We think she might have planted something on Cat’s desk, or taken documents from her office, so she would be more prone to sell.”
“Is she? Considering selling the store?”
I nodded. “I can’t tell if it’s because she really wants to or if everything is getting to her. The week before Christmas is stressful for anybody who works retail. She’s got so much extra piled on top of that stress that who knows why she’s doing what she’s doing.”
Nick scanned the wall. “Kenner & Winn…the jewelry wholesalers? Why did you write their names up there?”
“We don’t have pictures of them.”
“What do they have to do with this?”
“George worked for them. How do you know them?”
“Industry connections. I meet a lot of these people on the accessories circuit. So the pearls that were stolen from Cat’s store the night of his murder came from their inventory?” I nodded. “Which means they knew the value of the merchandise at the store.”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust them?”
“Seems doubtful they’d be involved. Why rob the store of merchandise they could get on their own? Why commit murder at all? If it’s about the pearls, they can mine more.”
“You think pearls come from a mine like diamonds?” He smiled.
“You know what I meant. Winn’s been out of the country this whole time. And Tom Kenner offered to pay for all of George’s funeral services and three months’ salary to help Cat.”
“Okay, let’s get back to Cat. Somebody went out of their way to pull her into this thing. Any idea why?”
“That’s what I originally thought, but now I’m not sure. The more I think about George, the more I wonder why was he killed? It doesn’t make sense that it was a case of mistaken identity, because why else would he have been at Catnip that night? Somebody arranged for him to show up, and whoever that was must have planned to kill him. If it’s about George, that’s one thing. But the security officer was murdered too. What’s the connection between them? Anything? Or was it totally random?”
Nick leaned back. “Are you seriously entertaining that as a possibility? Because if that’s the case we can forget the whole thing and go out for pizza.”
“Don’t try to distract me with pizza. I’ve considered it as a possibility, but not seriously, and here’s why. The pearls showed back up in Cat’s office. They were stashed in the ceiling. And Aguilar was strangled with a strand of pearls that I had on hold, and if I had them on hold then they couldn’t have been stolen in the smash and grab.”
He stared at me. “You were going to buy the necklace that the security officer was strangled with?” Our eyes connected. “Do you think that’s some kind of sign?”
“No, I think it’s bad clothing karma that came back to haunt me. Maybe the fact that I once wore knickers.” I chewed my lip. “But I think it means something.”
Soon enough the coffee pot was empty and because of the storm there would be no calls for takeout. Nick walked to the pantry and scanned the shelves. I was embarrassed by the fact that I had no food and said as much. My comments were unanswered.
“Keep talking,” he said.
“About what? My lack of food?”
“No, about the investigation. Things you’ve figured out.” He pulled a couple of cans from the shelves and set them on the counter. Confused, I tried to regain my earlier train of thought but failed.
“What are you doing?”
“Making us something to eat.”
“I don’t have any food here.”
“You’ve got plenty
of food. You shop like you’re preparing for a zombie apocalypse.” He held up a couple of cans of spinach. “You expecting Popeye for a visit?”
This whole meal thing had captured my interest, much to Nick’s amusement. He turned toward me with his hands propped on the counter.
“I left some parmesan cheese in the fridge. We need to eat it or it’ll go bad. I’m going to make pasta and spinach pesto. Will that be to your liking?”
“Sure, yep, sounds good. You can do that without electricity?”
“You have a gas stove and a battery-operated coffee grinder, right?”
I was starting to feel like I had MacGyver in my kitchen. “Right.”
While Nick moved about the kitchen, I poured a small bowl of milk for Logan. Nick filled a pot with water and set it on a gas burner. He drained a can of spinach and dumped it into my coffee grinder with olive oil, juice from half a lemon, minced garlic, and some grated cheese. I let him cook in silence while I fished out some candles from the junk drawer. Sooner than expected he brought two steaming plates full of pasta tossed in a green sauce over to the table and sat down across from me. Not a moment too soon, either, since my stomach let out a massive rumble. We spent the next few minutes eating.
“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?” he asked.
Dante’s face popped into my head. While it might not have been what Nick was asking, it was something I had to confess. “The photos on the wall were taken by Cat’s brother. Dante. He’s been helping us—her. Us.” I paused. “He kissed me two nights ago.”
Nick slowly nodded. He set his fork down and put his elbows on the table, and then rested his forehead against his clasped hands. A few seconds later he looked up at me. I laid my arm out on the table with my hand open toward him. He dropped his arm and took my fingers in his. I never looked away from his eyes.
“Nick, I think maybe we’re not ready for the next step.”
“Are you saying no?”
“I’m saying I need more time. Does this change anything?”
“Not for me.”
Pearls Gone Wild Page 15
