by Winnie Reed
She jiggled her foot from side to side the way Raina did when she was annoyed, her thin smile returning. “Yes, he has that way about him, doesn’t he?”
“Please, don’t tell me he gave you an attitude. Of all the people he should be nice to right now, you should be at the top of the list.” This was true, but I had to butter her up a little, too. Get her to like me. Even if I wasn’t writing about the case, she had no reason to trust a word I said. How to get her to open up?
She shrugged thin shoulders which, when she raised her arms to pull back her long hair, flexed with hidden strength. One of those women who actually took the time to care for her body. I appreciated that, even if I never could find the time or willpower to attend regular yoga or Pilates classes.
“I guess when you’re in that position and you see as many violent crimes as he probably has in a place like this, you lose a bit of your humanity. Your sense of empathy.” So she clearly wasn’t a fan of Paradise City. I made a mental note of that.
“How is Rob? Have you seen him?” I tried not to sound too over interested or concerned while making a point of not calling him Robbie. No sense giving her the wrong idea. She seemed the jealous type.
Lines appeared over the bridge of her nose as she winced. “About like you’d expect. Upset, confused. Naturally, he had nothing to do with this. The evidence is circumstantial, at best. Sure, they had their differences. All business partners do. If anything, I would think it’s something like a marriage. Occasionally, there’s a blowup, but things calm down and smooth over and everything is all right. I suppose the detective wouldn’t understand anything about that, so he thinks a few little arguments are enough to drive a person to murder. It’s ridiculous.” She rubbed her arms briskly as if it were cold in the room.
“You said a few little arguments? Kyle said something about that, too. James wasn’t easy to be around, but he had a temper.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, if you only knew. In the last month or so, my husband began questioning whether he’d made the right decision in aligning himself with James Flynn.”
Even as my pulse picked up at hearing something new, my heart sank a little further. It seemed like everything I found out made Robbie’s position more difficult. “How so? If you don’t mind my asking, that is. And like I said, I don’t intend to write about this. I’m here as a concerned friend.”
She shrugged this off. Maybe it just didn’t matter anymore. “He was never very forthcoming with me, you have to understand that. He would hint things here and there. My husband is a very private person when it comes to matters of business. Maybe he thought he could shield me from it or something, I don’t know. You know how men can be sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know that. I know what it’s like when you’re with a man who keeps things from you.”
“Right? Like they think you can’t be trusted with the truth. Frankly, I would very much have liked to know what his problem was with James, since my life is affected by his choices, too. Sure, it’s his business, but it’s our life. Our livelihood. If there was something I needed to know, I wish he would’ve told me.”
I nodded, clicking my tongue in genuine sympathy. “I’m sure that was really hard. Honestly, my dad was like that with my mom. He’s a detective. And he never wanted to tell her what was going on at work because he didn’t want to burden her with it. Except she ended up feeling isolated. And he felt isolated, too, because he was deliberately holding back from her instead of sharing.”
She snorted like she understood all too well. “How did they get past that?”
Maybe this wasn’t the best example. “They didn’t. But that doesn’t mean you guys won’t. I’m sure that once all of this has blown over, you guys will have a second chance to make things right. I’m sure he wants nothing more than to be with you again.”
She chuckled. “I think first, he would open his restaurant. That’s all he’s cared about since he and James decided to go into this together. I mean, literally. He has lived, breathed, existed simply to open this restaurant.”
“It was his dream,” I murmured, heartsick. And somebody had taken it from him. I refused to believe he was the one who killed James, just like I couldn’t believe Kyle would do it. Both of them had way too much to lose.
She raised her hand to her forehead, trembling. Her eyes filled with tears. “I just don’t understand who would do this. After all that work! All the sacrifice. All the time we didn’t spend together, all of it in service of something bigger. His dream. We put our lives on hold for his dream. And somebody took it away. I only wish those stupid detectives would get their heads screwed on straight! I know he couldn’t have done this!”
She then burst into tears, covering her face with both hands, rocking back and forth. I went to her, patting her shoulder.
Kyle joined us a moment later, sitting next to his sister and pulling her into his arms. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”
I wanted to believe it. I wanted everybody to have a happy ending. I only wished it were possible.
This case was more complex than I could’ve imagined at first. If James did business with the sketchy characters Kyle described, it could’ve been anybody. Where to begin when the list of potential suspects was a mile long?
Aubrey continued weeping and it didn’t look like she was about to calm down any time soon. I’d overstayed my welcome.
I patted her shoulder again and gave Kyle a sympathetic look. “I should go. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, I really appreciate it. Please, feel free to give me a call. And please, I beg you, let Robbie know I’m thinking about him. I’m doing everything I can to help him. I won’t let the police steamroll him, even if it means asking my dad for help.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at myself a little. After all, what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t even figure out who had a motive strong enough to be worth murdering the man. There just had to be a way, was all.
I left the apartment feeling lower than I had when I left the police station. It seemed like no matter how high I climbed, I ended up slipping right back down to where I started. As soon as something made sense, something else came in and mixed things up again.
“Find anything interesting?”
I jumped out of my skin at the sound, then the sight, of Joe Sullivan waiting for me outside the apartment building. He leaned against the railing leading down to the sidewalk. Hands in his pockets, ankles crossed. The picture of ease on a sunny, spring day.
I knew better. There was tension in every line of his body. He was a coiled spring ready to pop. He would end up popping at me.
“I can explain—"
He held up his hands, and I tried not to fixate on his muscular forearms now that his sleeves were rolled partway up. Not the time, Emma, not the time.
“I don’t remember suggesting I was interested in your explanations.” He removed his sunglasses, his eyes narrowed and fixed on me in a steady, disapproving stare. “You have no business being here, and that’s a fact.”
“He was walking in the park across the street from the police station! What, was I supposed to pretend I didn’t recognize him?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.” He sighed heavily, propping the glasses on top of his head. “Did you know he was Robert Klein’s brother-in-law before you came here?”
“No. I only found out when Mrs. Klein arrived.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it seems like she helps him out. You know, making sure he stays on the straight and narrow.” That would explain the tidy apartment, I guessed. She came around regularly.
“Really, I had no idea. I only wanted to talk to him after I saw him walking through the park.” Then, something occurred to me, and I became the injured party in a flash. “Did you follow me?”
“Me?” He placed a hand over his chest, gasping like he was surprised. “Why would I ever do that?”
“You did. You were following me!”
“If
you must know, Miss Harmon, I followed you at first because I wanted to apologize for upsetting you. You ran out before I had a chance. By the time I stepped outside, you were already halfway across the street. I watched you catch up with Kyle.”
“Do you think he did it?”
“You know I won’t answer that question. Why do you bother asking?” He replaced his sunglasses, fixing them over his face. Really, they did him no favors since they covered his eyes. Easily his most striking feature, which was saying something since he was pretty striking all the way around.
I followed him to his car. “Seriously! Do you think he had it in him to do that? What was he in jail for?”
“You’re crossing the line, Emma.”
“Oh, come on. At least tell me I wasn’t totally asking for trouble by going into the apartment of an ex-con.”
He burst out laughing. “Ex-con. There’s that Criminal Justice minor.”
Once again, I had to remind myself that threatening an officer with bodily harm was probably a crime. “Please, just tell me if I should be careful about speaking to him again. You know, whether I should be alone with him or not.”
“That seems fairly simple to me.” He opened the car door, leaning on it before he slid inside. “Just don’t see him again. Problem solved. That way, it won’t matter what he did to land himself in jail.”
I fell back a step, crushed. “Did you ever have one of those dreams where you’re late for school or work or whatever, and it seems like no matter how hard you try there’s no getting out the door? Like everything’s deliberately standing in your way?”
His mouth pursed. “I guess everybody has.”
“That’s how I feel right now. I’m fighting as hard as I can to prove Robbie didn’t do this, that he’s not capable of it. I’ve always had a thing about being able to read people. You probably think it’s dumb, but it’s true. My dad always wanted me to become a cop, to follow in his footsteps, because he said I had excellent instincts. Sure, he’s my dad and he’s supposed to say nice things about me, whatever. And sure, it blindsided me when I walked in on my boyfriend and another woman, but—”
“Huh?”
Maybe he didn’t need to know about that. “Never mind. My point is, except for that, I’m good at reading people. I’ve always been good at it. Robbie is a sweet, kind soul. Genuine. Not fake and plastic like James. I knew that much right off the bat. And he wanted that restaurant so badly. It was his lifelong dream. He never would’ve jeopardized it, and he wouldn’t have committed murder right outside of it, for heaven’s sake!”
He was going to tell me I was spinning fairytales out of thin air, wasn’t he? That I needed to go back to writing about food and keep my nose out of serious matters. I braced myself for it.
“No. You don’t have to be worried about anything from Kyle,” he muttered before sighing like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “He was a dumb kid who got mixed up with the wrong people. That’s it. Okay? You feel better?”
To a degree, especially since Joe didn’t shoot me down.
Though I couldn’t deny that it would’ve been easier to find out Kyle was a violent criminal capable of murder. “I guess?” I shrugged. “Maybe?”
“Unfortunately, Emma Harmon, that’s as good as it gets with a case like this. Very rarely is there a satisfying conclusion. I wish there was, sincerely. With a detective father, you must know how frustrating it is when the case won’t settle itself the way a cop wishes it would.”
“Do you wish it would settle itself one way or another?” I couldn’t help asking.
There was a beat before he chuckled. That beat could’ve held a great many thoughts and wishes. “Stay in Cape Hope, Emma. For your safety, if nothing else.”
“Do you think I’m in danger?” I asked as he got into his car.
“All I’m saying is, you’re running around asking a lot of questions and so sure I arrested the wrong man.” He looked up at me before closing the door. “If you’re right, there’s a killer out here somewhere.”
He left me standing there, speechless, as he drove off.
The jerk didn’t even offer me a ride to the station to pick up my car.
Chapter Nineteen
On a good week, I wondered why we bothered holding Cape Hope Book Club meetings.
Even when it seemed like most of the attendees had read the book—or at least the first few chapters before skipping to the end—the conversation usually devolved into topics completely unrelated to anything literary within the first thirty minutes or so.
Once the wine started flowing, all bets were off.
And that was on a good week.
This week? After news of the murder had spread? The murder of somebody who owned property in Cape Hope? To say nothing of the fact that it had been I who’d discovered his body?
This was not a good week. This was maybe the worst week.
It was also the most packed my mom’s house had ever been for this particular event.
“Standing room only,” Darcy murmured on her way past with a pitcher of sangria.
I was carrying a platter of cheese and crackers which I placed beside a platter of fruit, nuts and honey. Many of those in attendance—twenty-two at last count—had brought treats with them.
Probably to make up for the fact that they hadn’t read the book. How did I know? Because I had never seen them at a book club meeting before.
That and the fact that they followed my every move like I was the dot at the end of a laser beam and they were a bunch of cats. I wanted to turn around and demand they stop staring, but that would come off as too wacky even for this bunch.
And they were wacky. Most of them were friends with my Auntie Nell, who was probably the one who’d spread the word about the meeting in the first place. The house was packed with her library pals who happened to share an affinity for murder.
I was somewhat on the morbid side, but I had nothing on her crew.
She helped Mom carry in a tiered tray of fresh cupcakes, which took a place of honor in the center of the dining room table. “Well,” Mom breathed, beaming. “I have to admit, I never expected this sort of turnout.”
Her voice was just as sweet as could be, the way it normally sounded. Rarely had she ever raised it that I was aware of, not even the time Darcy and I got into a buttercream fight in the café’s kitchen.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t shoot her best friend a dirty look. So she knew this was all Nell’s doing. I wondered if Raina and I would be like those two when we got older.
I couldn’t imagine my impossibly chic best friend dressing like a holdover from a Southern gothic novel, however, so that was out. Nell made a big to-do out of fluffing the ruffled lace cuffs of her gauzy white blouse, seemingly oblivious to my mother’s ire.
“I suppose we should begin,” Mom suggested with a sigh. “Did you all bring your copies of the book?”
I had mine. So did my sister, seated beside me at the head of the table. All the better to get the first crack at the food, which was one of the main reasons I attended these meetings at all. Sure, I liked to read, but we hardly ever discussed the book anyway.
A few of the others, the regulars, held up their copies. The rest did not, looking guilty and shifty as they exchanged glances.
My poor mom. She had no idea what to do.
I stood, wishing I’d taken a fortifying sip of sangria before now. “Okay. I think we can all drop the pretense of being here for Book Club when most of you aren’t actually in the club. At least you brought snacks, which is really nice. I can’t wait to tear into that olive tapenade, whoever brought it. Anyway, you want to talk about the murder. I get it. Do you have questions for me?”
Mom let out a sigh and sat down, fanning herself with a napkin. “Thank goodness. I didn’t know what to do.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got this.” I looked out over a sea of faces. Some familiar, some not so familiar. Most of the women attached to those faces had
their hands raised. Sheesh. I chose one at random.
She cleared her throat. “Nina George, I work at the library.” Several of the women murmured in response and I wondered how I’d ended up in Bizarro World when all I wanted was sangria, snacks and a couple of hours of girl time. “What was it like? Did you touch the body?”
“I didn’t. Except for tripping over his leg, which I guess doesn’t count.” I looked down at my sister, wondering if I was hallucinating this or if she was witnessing it along with me. Her half-hidden grin told me it was the latter.
I recognized Breanna Schultz from yoga class, back when I used to go to yoga class. “Was there a lot of blood?” she asked, eager.
“No. I mean, it was dark, but I don’t think so.”
Several of the women whispered to each other, and I had to wonder what I’d said to make them disapprove. I thought I heard one of them claiming she would’ve seen whether there was blood, dark or not.
I was halfway ready to tell her I wished it had been her instead of me, but I was in my mom’s house and she was actually there and everything. My poor tongue would never recover from all the biting I’d done lately.
“Who’s that cutie you were sporting around town a couple of days ago?” somebody asked from the back of the living room before I called on her.
Mom fielded that one for me, bless her heart. “I told you, Frankie. That’s her gentleman friend.”
Darcy pressed a freshly-filled wine glass into my hand.
“He’s not…” I took a deep, calming breath that didn’t actually calm me, but it was better than screaming. “He happened to be taking pictures for the article I was supposed to be writing about the restaurant opening. He was the second person to see the body. He was nice enough to drive in to show me some of the work he did that night.”
“I wouldn’t mind him showing me some of his work!” Mrs. Merriweather chirped from the easy chair, causing no end of knowing laughter.
