Death by Espresso

by Alex Erickson

  “That’s okay. It happens.” It sounded like there was more to his meaning than just his failed relationship with Shannon.

  “Did Vince confess?” I asked, changing the subject before both of us became too embarrassed to speak.

  “He did,” Paul said. “He maintains it was an accident, that he was only going to knock her out. Apparently, he went after the necklace, but found the jewelry box empty. He remembered what the Herrons said about Ms. Carr stealing from her clients, and went after her. He surprised her, hit her, and she choked. He panicked and ran before thinking to search her for the necklace.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “It is.” He shook his head sadly. “He didn’t try to deny anything. I think he believed we had more on him than we really did, thanks to you. Without the confession, I’m not sure we would have gotten a conviction.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “I should have realized he was the guy all along.” The car. The way he kept himself separate. It was all right there, but I’d missed it.

  “You know, you could have told me your suspicions before we got there.” There was only a little reprimand in his voice. “I could have helped.”

  “I wasn’t totally sure I had it right,” I said. “I wanted to see his reaction as I went around the room, see if he’d give anything away.”

  “Did he?”

  “No, not really.”

  Paul laughed. “Well, we got him.”

  “We did.”

  Our eyes met. He looked away first.

  “You should forget about Vince Conner and this whole murder business,” Paul said, straightening his tie. “You have a wedding to worry about.”

  “I do.”

  A look of melancholy must have passed over my face then, because Paul put a hand on my arm. “You okay?”

  “I am.”

  “I heard about Will.”

  I flashed him a smile. “Yeah? I’ll be fine.”

  He studied me a long moment before removing his hand and nodding. “I know you will.”

  Music started playing and my nervousness ratcheted up a good dozen clicks.

  “I’d better find a place to sit,” Paul said. “See you at the reception?”

  “Of course.”

  He reached up as if to touch the brim of his missing police hat. And then, with a bow, he turned and headed down the aisle to take his seat.

  I watched him go, knowing that as long as he was there to keep me from doing something too incredibly stupid, that I’d definitely be okay. We didn’t need to be dating for that.

  “Ready?”

  I looked up to see Mason’s best man, Charlie Yow, waiting for me, elbow extended.

  “I am,” I said, taking his arm.

  I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and then, together, we started down the aisle.