A Good Day to Buy

by Sherry Harris

  “Okay.” CJ didn’t sound enthused because the DiNapolis were definitely on my side when it came to CJ and me. I wasn’t even sure they were happy we were back together.

  “I’ll meet you there at seven,” I said. With luck, I might have time to shower and change.

  “Great. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” I said as I hung up. Maybe he’d finally tell me what was going on with the investigations into the Mr. Spencer’s and Ethan’s deaths.

  * * *

  As I locked the front door of the Spencers’ house, I heard a shout. I turned and an Asian woman in scrubs marched over to me.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She had a bob of jet-black hair; strands of silver sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

  I introduced myself. “I’m helping Tim go through things. He hopes to move his mom to Florida as soon as she’s well enough.”

  The woman snorted. “Behind her back? Velma would have a fit.”

  I’d been worrying about it myself. “I’m following her son’s wishes. Have you known the Spencers long?”

  “We’ve lived next door for the past five years. Velma’s a saint putting up with Verne.”

  My eyebrows popped up. That had been the exact opposite of what I’d experienced.

  “Oh, I know she can be difficult too. But she’s moved with him so many times, her head was spinning. And now he wants to move again. Every time she starts to settle someplace, they have to go.”

  Since military people moved a lot, it didn’t seem too surprising, plus they’d been settled here for a while. “Did Mr. Spencer have any problems with anyone else?”

  “Who do you think you are? The police?” she asked.

  “Not at all. I liked Mr. Spencer. He was lovely to work with.”

  “And Mrs. Spencer wasn’t?”

  It wasn’t advisable to talk poorly of a client so I didn’t answer.

  She threw her hands up. “I’m a nurse. I know Velma’s changed over the past few months.”

  “Maybe from the stress of moving again?” Some people really couldn’t handle change.

  “I think it was more than that.”

  “Any idea what?” I asked.

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Are you one of her nurses now?” I hadn’t seen her the couple of times I’d been up there.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I know she’s had a couple of relapses. Any idea of the cause?”

  “I’m not about to discuss her medical condition with you.”

  Fair enough. “Could her seizures have been caused by someone, or was it natural?” Ever since Tim had mentioned Brad was at the hospital on the day of his mom’s seizures this thought had been rolling around in my head.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Again, I’m not going to tell you anything. Why would you even suggest that?”

  “Maybe whoever killed Mr. Spencer doesn’t want her to wake up.” I clapped my hands to my mouth, stunned I just said that out loud.

  The woman paled.

  “Did they have any problems with other neighbors?” I asked. She might not answer medical questions, but there was no reason for her not to answer this.

  The woman glanced over her shoulder toward her house. I thought she was going to bolt.

  “Verne got pretty upset when the Blacks’ kids ran through Velma’s garden. Words were exchanged.” She pointed over to a ramshackle house with a drooping awning over the front door and a yard littered with toys and bikes. “But that was last summer.”

  “Any other problems?” I asked.

  She half turned away but looked back over her shoulder. “The man over on the other side of them. They hated each other, but I don’t know why. And he’s been gone since the morning of your yard sale.”

  Chapter 25

  When I got home, I sat on my couch. I would ask CJ about the missing neighbor at dinner. I opened my computer to do a little research on Tim before I had to get ready. I plugged in his name. Lots of information came up, too much to sort through, so I typed in Tim’s name, followed by arrest records. Ruth said he’d been up to his old tricks so I wanted to see just how bad it was. A mug shot popped up. I clicked on the site and a new window popped up that said, Shocking news about Tim Spencer—view now. I closed the window and scrolled down. I finally ended up paying to find information on a site that looked somewhat legitimate. I found a copy of a restraining order taken out by Tim’s wife ten years ago. And then a document for court-ordered rehab six years ago. Wow. When Frank’s wife, Ruth, had mentioned Tim had been in some kind of trouble, I hadn’t realized I’d find anything like this. He seemed so nice and genuinely concerned for his mother. Was it all an act? At dinner, I’d make sure CJ knew all of this. Dinner. I glanced at the time and shot off the couch. Time to primp.

  * * *

  I arrived at DiNapoli’s at five past seven, freshly showered, mascaraed, and clothed. As I’d showered, I’d realized if I wanted to be wooed I had to put some effort into it too. I put on my sexiest bra and panties, a lacy black set CJ hadn’t seen yet, and a low V-neck shirt, tight black skirt, and red heels. It had been warm enough out and the distance short enough that I’d walked over. Maybe I could convince CJ to go for a drive after dinner and we could find some secluded spot to make out at like we had when we were young. Cops always knew a town’s best secluded spots.

  Rosalie stood at the counter but hurried around to me and pulled me into a big hug. I waved over her shoulder to Angelo, who stirred a big pot of something.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” Rosalie said when she let go of me.

  Maybe I should get dressed up more often. “I’m waiting for CJ,” I said.

  “I know,” she said. She pointed to the seating area. There was a table with a red and white checked tablecloth and a RESERVED sign on it. A silver candlestick held a white unlit candle, and a bouquet of white roses in a crystal vase sat against the wall. DiNapoli’s didn’t normally have tablecloths, candles, or roses, or take reservations.

  “That’s for me?” I asked. I melted a little. Maybe CJ understood me more than I realized.

  Rosalie nodded. “I’ll bring you something to nibble on while you wait.”

  I headed over to the table a little self-consciously as people turned to see who was getting the special treatment. Most of the tables were full, and I waved to a couple of people I knew. Four men sat at a table behind mine sharing a large meat-covered pizza. The same four men I’d seen at the American Legion. Yeesh. If I noticed strangers in town, I really had made this town my home. They all leaned forward, talking in hushed tones. Interesting. I sat with my back to them, hoping I’d learn something about them. I almost laughed at myself. They didn’t call DiNapoli’s the town hub of gossip for no reason. But all I heard them chatting about was baseball and how good the pizza was.

  A few minutes later, Rosalie brought over a glass of red wine in a stemmed glass and an antipasto platter. I looked around. “Aren’t you supposed to put the wine in a kiddie cup?” It was how they usually served wine on the sly to their friends since they didn’t have a license to serve alcohol.

  “Good news. We now have a license to sell wine and beer.” Rosalie beamed. “Someone finally forgave Angelo for being a pain in the patootie and approved the license.”

  “Finally.” I raised my glass to her, then took a drink. “Ummm, my favorite Chianti.”

  “When is CJ supposed to be here?” Rosalie asked.

  I looked at my phone, not only to check the time but to see if he’d sent a text or called. Nada. “Any minute.”

  Rosalie looked like she wanted to say something but instead patted my hand and lit the candle. She stopped at the table full of men behind me and asked if they wanted anything. Two of them asked for a Sam Adams lager. The other two wanted water. I hoped this meant they’d start talking again. I tried to remain as quiet as possible. The bits of conversation that drifted over to me were about hunting, who could lift the most, being veterans, which I’d alr
eady known since they were at the American Legion, so not helpful, and who’d caught the biggest fish on their last trip. Typical guy stuff. Darn.

  I picked at the antipasto plate while I waited for CJ. I hoped he’d have some news about Luke, Ethan, or Mr. Spencer. News he would share. The men had moved on to talking about their families. I went to my virtual garage sale site on my phone to see if there was anything interesting for sale. It was often full of kids’ toys and clothes. As I flicked through, I saw a couple of old end tables. They needed a lot of work but the woman was only asking ten dollars for them. I really didn’t have room and had a fairly busy few weeks of sales ahead of me. I started to scroll by, hoping I wouldn’t regret my decision later.

  I flicked back to the end tables and typed interested sending PM under the listing. The old teardrop drawer pulls made me think these were true antiques. Unless, of course, someone had switched them out or ordered realistic-looking replacements. I fired off a message saying I wanted the tables. A reply came seconds later, saying they were mine if I could pick them up tomorrow morning between ten and noon. I told her I’d be there.

  I felt someone standing next to me and looked up, smiling. But it was Seth, not CJ.

  “Hi,” I said. Brilliant, Sarah. My phone buzzed. It was a text from CJ saying he had to cancel. It wasn’t as if I weren’t used to it. It was a way of life you adapted to as a military spouse or as a spouse to any first responder. It didn’t stop a little sigh from escaping. Way of life or not, I wasn’t always happy about it.

  “Bad news?” Seth asked, taking in the flowers, candle, and tablecloth.

  I smiled, putting on a happy face as one does. “CJ’s busy.”

  Seth frowned for a moment. “I was going to grab some takeout, but how about dinner?”

  What was the right answer here? Saying no seemed petty. I’d made my decision, so why couldn’t I have dinner with a friend? However, Seth wasn’t just any friend. I’d had feelings for him. But I loved CJ. I’d chosen CJ.

  “Dinner sounds great.” We were in a public place for goodness’ sake. It wasn’t like we were skulking around behind people’s backs. I’d never pick DiNapoli’s for a clandestine meeting. Half the town would know we had dinner together before they went to bed tonight. Besides, maybe Seth would have some inkling about what was going on with Luke or the two murders.

  Seth took off his suit coat and tossed it over the extra chair. He took off his tie, stuffed it in his suit coat pocket, and popped open the top couple of buttons of his white cotton shirt. I tried not to stare, but he looked at me right as I tried to look away. He grinned.

  “Let’s order.” He stepped back so I could walk to the counter first.

  Gale stood at the counter. I ordered baked ziti.

  She looked at Seth with a smile. “The usual?”

  “Yep. A hot Italian sub with fries, please. And a glass of Chianti.”

  Rosalie raised an eyebrow at me from the back of the kitchen. I gave my shoulders a little lift. She nudged Angelo, who whipped his head around. Fortunately, Seth was fussing with his wallet and missed the whole thing. I insisted on paying for my own food. Once we settled back at the table, I searched for a neutral topic because I didn’t want to talk about relationships and I didn’t want to dig for information right off the bat.

  “How’s the campaign going?” I asked. Seth had been appointed to replace the ailing district attorney last year, but the term would be ending and he’d have to run for reelection.

  “It’s starting to gear up. I could use someone with your energy on my team. Actually, I could use you.”

  Oh dear. What did that mean? I knew he worked very hard at what he did. “If there’s some way I can help, I will.” The candlelight flickered across his handsome face. I wish I could blow the damn thing out because it was surreal sitting here with Seth in a quasi-romantic setting. One CJ had arranged and meant to enjoy with me.

  Chapter 26

  Gale brought our food over with an appreciative look at Seth. He smiled at her and she blushed. Seth had that effect on women.

  “How’s your Criminal Procedure class going?” Seth asked her.

  “So much better after the help you gave me,” Gale said, batting her enviable eyelashes.

  I beat down a twinge that felt something like jealously as Gale sashayed away. Darn, if she didn’t have a near perfect backside. “So you’ve been coming here a lot?” I asked.

  “Can’t beat the food or the prices.”

  I picked up my fork and dug in.

  “You look beautiful, Sarah.”

  I felt warmth start in my chest and swirl up my face. I must be redder than a Red Sox cap. Seth had a way of paying attention to me that made me feel like I was the only woman he’d ever noticed, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Seth focused on my neck. I realized too late I hadn’t worn a scarf or a turtleneck. I’d grown kind of used to the bruises and had thought they were fading. I put a hand to my throat. “I’m fine,” I said, even though he didn’t ask.

  “I read the report. It doesn’t sound fine.”

  “It was scary. But the worst part is I haven’t heard from Luke since.” I swallowed what felt like a baseball-sized lump. “I’m scared for him.” Okay, this was the perfect segue to find out what Seth knew. “Have you heard anything?” My voice wobbled unexpectedly. There it was again, the vulnerable feeling when I was with Seth. I realized I felt like I’d been holding my breath since the night Luke had disappeared. That I’d thought if I stayed crazy busy I’d be okay. But I wasn’t.

  Seth studied my face, his forehead wrinkling. “Nothing you probably haven’t heard from CJ.”

  “I know it doesn’t look good that his fingerprints were at the Spencers’ house.”

  “And his 911 call puts him there too.”

  “But what’s the motive?”

  “It’s not always straightforward. I wish it was.” Seth leaned in toward me.

  “There must have been other fingerprints in the garage.” My voice sounded a little too desperate, even to me. I needed to calm down, but under the circumstances, how could I?

  “Of course there were other fingerprints. Mr. and Mrs. Spencers’, their son, Tim’s, some that haven’t been identified yet.”

  “So someone else could have done it.”

  Seth settled back in his chair. “I shouldn’t have shared that with you. Please don’t spread it around. The evidence points to your brother. No one else.”

  “But the fingerprints you haven’t identified.”

  “Neighbors, delivery people, a friend who borrowed a hammer and returned it. None of it means it wasn’t Luke.”

  My eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah. I wish I had better news for you. If we could find him and he could explain, it would be better for him.”

  “He wouldn’t just disappear without checking on me.”

  Seth just looked at me. There was a hint of pity in his eyes. I couldn’t stand that everyone was judging Luke. My heart ached even considering the possibility that Seth was right.

  “Have you heard anything that would help us find him? Because we have nothing since the two pings off the cell phone he was using the night he disappeared.”

  Two pings? I’d only heard about the one near the VA. “It’s not much to go on. Although, he was actually at the VA,” I said. If he’d been spotted near the second ping, I was sure I would have heard. However, maybe not, since this was the first I was hearing about it. I wondered if the ping had been before or after the one in Bedford.

  “Yeah, nothing came from the one in west Ellington.”

  I sucked in a little bit of air. New information. What was on the west side of Ellington? The Concord River, a bit of conservancy land, some farms, and then the town of Carlisle.

  “You didn’t know about it, did you?” Seth asked.

  I shook my head. This was one of the reasons I’d been attracted to Seth. He understood me on a different level than anyone else ever had.
But that was all in the past. “No. CJ doesn’t tell me much.” I sipped my wine. “And it isn’t much to go on anyway.”

  “It’s nothing to go on, Sarah. The area’s been searched, and there’s no sign of Luke.” He reached for my hand, but I jerked it back. “I’m sorry.”

  I wasn’t quite sure if he was apologizing for reaching for my hand or for the situation with Luke.

  “I have some sources looking for Luke,” Seth said. “I want to find him safe and get to the bottom of what happened.”

  “Thank you.” I wondered if he meant Mike “The Big Cheese” Titone when he said sources. Mike had been in Seth’s neighborhood the other night. Or maybe he had other, more legal sources available to him as DA.

  “And we’re going to find whoever did that to you.” Seth pointed at my neck. “If I had my way, we’d toss them in jail and lose the key.”

  I questioned him about Mr. Spencer and Ethan as we ate. He evaded each of my questions and somehow always managed to turn the topic back to me. How was I doing, how was my business. He even managed to make me laugh by telling me a funny campaign story. Eventually, Seth got a call and left.

  Angelo called out to me as I was about to leave. “Can you stay for another glass of wine, Sarah?”

  I realized it was almost time for the restaurant to close. The men who’d been sitting at the table behind me had left, as had everyone else but one couple at a table by the window. I glanced at my phone. No messages from CJ. “Sure. I’d love to.”

  Angelo and Rosalie had become family. And Angelo usually had some story to tell me that had a subtle lesson or bit of advice. I felt like I could use some right now. Others in the community didn’t always appreciate Angelo’s advice and said he was bossy and opinionated. Maybe he was, but I’d always found it came from a place of love and caring. I sat back down, and the DiNapolis joined me with a bottle of Chianti and a plate of Italian cookies Rosalie had made.

  Angelo poured three glasses of wine. We toasted one another. Rosalie pushed the cookies in front of me. “Eat. You look like you’re getting too thin.”