by Sofie Kelly
Everything Ami had said was true up to a point. What was also true was that the cost of getting involved in those cases had been very high. It had almost destroyed my relationship with Marcus before it really even got started.
I felt bad about what had happened to Miranda, but I had no idea how to figure out who had killed her. If it had been a case of mistaken identity, if she was dead because someone mistook her for Emme, it was going to be even harder to catch the killer.
“Ami, I’m sorry,” I began.
She shook her head again, holding up both hands as though she could somehow stop my “no” before I even got the word out. “Please, Kathleen. You’re good at this kind of thing. You see inside people. You see connections other people don’t.”
I was pretty sure Rebecca had told her that. She’d told me more than once that I had a knack for reading people. I’d spent a lot of time around theater people growing up, watching my parents and other actors turn a character on the page into a three-dimensional person. I’d learned a lot about human nature from that.
I glanced down at Hercules. His green eyes met mine and then he looked toward Ami. I was pretty sure what he thought I should do.
“I don’t want Miranda’s murder to get pushed aside because she’s not from here and she has no one to speak up for her,” Ami said, a determined set to her mouth.
“And no one will let that happen,” I said. “I can’t help you, but I will keep my eyes and ears open and I’ll share anything I learn with Marcus.”
She sighed and got to her feet, wiping her hands on the front of her shorts. “Okay, I can live with that for now,” she said. “But please think about what I said.” She gave Hercules a small smile and headed back across the yard to Rebecca and Everett’s house.
I looked down at the cat. He was looking up at me, eyes narrowed, a sour expression on his face.
“I’m not a detective,” I said. “And you know Marcus is good at what he does.” Once again, here I was, explaining myself to a cat.
Hercules continued to glare at me, making it clear that he didn’t like my explanation.
“And I don’t want to put him in a difficult spot,” I added. “What else could I do?”
He made a huffy sound through his nose, flicked his tail at me and stalked toward the house. It wasn’t hard to guess what he thought I should do.
chapter 5
Marcus stopped in at the library Tuesday morning to bring me coffee and a lemon-blueberry muffin. He was tight-lipped about the case other than to say there was nothing new.
After he was gone I stood for a moment in front of the big window behind my desk and looked out over the water. I had always thought one of the most beautiful parts of the town was the waterfront, with all the elm and black walnut trees that lined the shore, and the Riverwalk trail that made its way from the old warehouses at the point, past the downtown shops and businesses, all the way out beyond the marina. I’d walked the path dozens of times. Was it possible that Miranda’s death was just a random act of violence? Was the Riverwalk not as safe as I thought it was?
Maggie and I met Roma for a late lunch at Eric’s to talk about the wedding. The small restaurant was busy. It was good to see that the music festival was bringing people to town.
Over bowls of Eric’s taco salad, Roma showed us a photo Ella King had texted her of our bridesmaid dresses. We had to go out for one last fitting.
“That’s beautiful,” Maggie said, bending her head over the image. Our dresses were simple floor-length sheaths that complemented Roma’s wedding gown, which Ella was also making. The sleeveless chiffon dresses featured a jewel neckline and a deep V at the back. Ella had suggested a satiny ribbon tie at the waist. Roma had chosen a soft sage green that went well with Maggie’s green eyes and blond curls and equally well with my darker eyes and hair.
“Are you sure you’re both happy with Ella’s design?” Roma asked. “And the color?”
“Yes,” I said.
Maggie nodded her agreement.
“Because if you want sleeves, Ella can add them.”
I put my hand on her arm. “We don’t need sleeves. The design is perfect. The color is perfect.”
“You’re going to be a perfect bride and it’s going to be a perfect wedding,” Maggie added.
Roma put a hand on her chest. “I’m actually getting married,” she said, as though it had just occurred to her.
I smiled. “That’s what happens when you propose to someone in the middle of my kitchen.”
She smiled back at me. “I did do that, didn’t I?” She pointed at both of us then. “I almost forgot. I brought the readings with me.” She reached for her bag by her feet, pulled out a blue file folder and handed a sheet of paper to Maggie and another to me.
Maggie scanned the page, then she looked up. “I like this,” she said. “‘How Falling in Love Is Like Owning a Dog.’”
“Don’t tell that to Owen,” I teased. My own reading was a piece from the Bible, the story of Ruth and Naomi.
“What’s Sydney reading?” Maggie asked. Sydney was Eddie’s ten-year-old daughter from his first marriage.
Roma shook her head. “I don’t know. Neither does Eddie. She won’t tell us. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” She smiled. “I’m so lucky she’s okay with us getting married.”
“Given how hard she tried to get the two of you together, I think she’s more than okay with it,” Maggie said, folding the sheet of paper she’d been holding in half and putting it in her messenger bag.
“When does Olivia get here?” I asked. Roma’s daughter, who was a biologist and commercial diver working on a TV show for the Exploration Channel, was coming to spend some time with her mother before the wedding. Roma was overjoyed. Her face lit up every time she talked about Olivia.
“She’ll be here next week,” she said. “I can’t wait to see her. I think she’s been feeling a little left out of the wedding planning. I talked to her a couple of days ago, and she didn’t seem that enthusiastic about her dress.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “There are still things she can help with once she gets here.” Maggie and I were hosting a wedding shower for Roma.
“You’re not going overboard with the shower, remember?” Roma said.
I gave Maggie a blank look. “I don’t remember agreeing to that, do you?”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
Roma shook her head. Her gaze went from me to Maggie and something in her expression changed. “I don’t know how to say thank you for everything that you’ve both done, from helping me find the perfect dress when I thought I didn’t even care about having a wedding dress to telling me to follow my heart”—she gestured at me—“to getting the two of us together in the first place.” She looked at Maggie.
“That’s what friends are for,” I said, reaching for my coffee. “And how many people have a how-we-got-together story like yours and Eddie’s? Do you remember the night we moved Faux Eddie to the community center?”
Maggie had created the very lifelike figure of Eddie for a Winterfest display.
Roma laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. You and Maggie hijacked my SUV. And not for the first time.”
Maggie was gesturing with her fork because her mouth was full of food. When she could speak she said, “You wanted to cut my Eddie into pieces.” She mock glared at Roma.
“His feet were hanging out the back of the car,” Roma retorted. “It looked like I was driving a dead body around.”
I snagged a tortilla chip from my bowl. “Do you remember how cold it was that night?” I asked. “And we were afraid it was going to snow.” I grinned at the memory.
* * *
It had been pretty clear that Faux Eddie wasn’t going to fit in the back of Roma’s SUV. The legs were hanging out, almost touching the driveway.
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“Could we take his legs off?” I’d asked.
Maggie had looked at me, aghast. “Take Eddie’s legs off? How?”
“I have a hacksaw under the front seat,” Roma had chimed in oh-so-not-helpfully.
I remembered how Maggie had put a protective hand on mannequin Eddie’s thigh.
“Do your legs detach?” she’d asked.
Roma had suggested wrapping “Eddie” in plastic and tying him to the roof. I was pretty sure that would get us pulled over by the police before we’d even driven a block. Luckily, we’d managed to get the mannequin turned around and positioned in the front passenger seat with the seat belt holding him in place.
Roma had walked around to the front of the vehicle and looked through the windshield. “He looks so real.”
Faux Eddie had looked so real it started a rumor that he and Roma were an item. The real Eddie got in touch with her and pretty soon they were a couple.
* * *
She shook her head now. “I spent way too much time worried about things that weren’t important.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie said, reaching for the little metal teapot. She lifted the lid and peered thoughtfully inside, then looked up at us. “Sometimes love takes the long way home.”
Roma smiled. “That’s beautiful.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ami and Ruby walk by, heading in the direction of the theater. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about my conversation with Ami. Part of me did want to help her. I just didn’t see how I could do that.
I realized then that Maggie was saying something. She had leaned over into my line of sight. “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “What did you say?”
“Where were you?” she asked.
I reached for my coffee cup and leaned against the back of my chair with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I just saw Ruby and Ami walking by.”
“I’m glad they’re going to continue with the festival,” Maggie said. “But that doesn’t make what happened any less sad.”
“Does Marcus have any leads at all?” Roma asked.
“Not that he’s telling me,” I said. “I know he’s been talking to everyone who’s taking part in the festival, but I don’t think he’s come up with anything.” Given that I’d barely seen Marcus since Ruby and Hercules had discovered Miranda’s body and when I did he was distant and distracted, I was pretty sure I was right about how the case was going. Was Ami right? Would I have better luck talking to people?
Maggie was still eyeing me, a thoughtful expression in her green eyes. “What aren’t you telling us?” she said.
I hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. “Ami came over last night. She asked me if I’d . . . investigate Miranda’s murder.”
“What did you say?” Roma asked.
“I told her no,” I said. “I’m not a detective. Marcus is and he’s good at it.”
“Marcus being good at his job doesn’t somehow mean that you’re not good at figuring this kind of thing out yourself,” Roma said.
I looked at her, surprised. “Wait a minute. Are you saying I should have said yes?”
Roma shook her head. “No. We’re on your side.” She glanced at Maggie, who nodded. “And if you’d said yes to Ami, we’d be on your side.” She studied me for a moment. I could tell from the slight frown on her face that she was debating whether or not to say something else.
I waited.
Finally, she seemed to find the words she’d been looking for. “Kathleen, you were the one who figured out what happened to Thomas.” She meant Thomas Karlsson, her birth father.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Roma held up one hand. “I’m not trying to say that Marcus and the rest of the police department wouldn’t have figured it out, but the point is that you did it first. You’re good at reading people. That doesn’t mean you have to get involved in what happened to Miranda Moore. It doesn’t mean you have to say yes to Ami, either.” She looked at Maggie. “I had a point and now I don’t remember what it was.”
Maggie smiled. “Bride brain,” she said. She turned to me. “Do what feels right to you. We have your back if you need us. Just don’t make a decision based on whether or not you think Marcus is going to get his man panties in a wad.”
“His what?” I said. The expression was so unlike Maggie. Beside me Roma’s lips were twitching as she tried not to laugh.
“Brady and I were over at his dad’s place playing pinball last night. Burtis was upset about something to do with one of those big tents they rent. He’s pretty much all bluster, but I think he was getting on Lita’s nerves. She told him not to get his man panties in a wad. I guess the expression just stuck in my brain.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “I promise I won’t make any decisions based on whether or not I think Marcus is walking around with bunched-up underwear.”
That did it. Roma started to laugh. “I’m sorry,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “I just got this mental image of—” She started to laugh even harder, leaning her head on one hand.
I wondered whom she’d gotten a mental picture of and decided I was probably happier not knowing.
We decided against dessert. We paid our bills and I hugged them both. “I’ll see you tonight at class,” I said. Maggie and Roma headed out together. I waited long enough to grab a take-out cup of coffee and then headed back to the library.
It was a gorgeous afternoon, just a few wisps of clouds in the sky and the sun sparkling on the water. I had the urge to turn around, run after Mags and Roma and play hooky for the rest of the day. But Roma had animals that needed her expert care, Maggie was working on a new project for the tourist alliance and I had a meeting with Lita about the library budget. I thought about the night the three of us had moved Faux Eddie, the night that the rumors that the real Eddie was seeing someone in Mayville Heights had started. Maggie was right. I could count on both of them, and I hoped they knew they could count on me.
As I followed the gentle curve of the road back toward the library I thought about Emme Finley. It certainly seemed like she and Miranda had had the same sort of friendship. I knew I’d be devastated if anything happened to Maggie or Roma—or Lise, my best friend back in Boston. I felt sympathy for Emme. And I told myself it was only natural, under the circumstances, that I felt a little niggling twist of uncertainty about saying no to Ami.
It was a busy afternoon at the library. Several tourists came in just to see the building, and I found myself giving a group of them an impromptu talk about the history of the library. We had a group of day-campers come in for a tour and several stories. The little ones were enchanted by Mia, who did all the voices from a guinea pig named Einstein to a lion with a case of back-to-school nerves. I left just after five and headed home for supper and some time with Owen and Hercules, and then, because it was such a nice night, I walked down to tai chi.
Rebecca was at the top of the stairs, sitting on the long, low wooden bench underneath the coat hooks. She smiled at me as I came up the last three steps, and I realized that she had been waiting for me, waiting to repeat Ami’s plea.
I sat down next to her, set my bag on the floor and returned her smile. “I’m listening. Go ahead,” I said.
She tipped her head to one side, pulling a gauzy lavender scarf from around her neck. “Am I that transparent?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s just that I know how much you love Ami.” Ami was Everett’s only grandchild. Everett, a widower, had raised Ami after the death of her parents in a car accident when she was four. Even though he and Rebecca had been apart for most of Ami’s life, she and Rebecca had formed a tight bond, as strong as any biological connection.
Rebecca nodded. “I do. And I’m not casting any aspersions on Marcus or the department, it’s just that you have a way of finding things out.”
I’d heard that so many t
imes in the past day and a half I was beginning to feel like the Amazing Renaldo, the 1-900 so-called Psychic to the Stars from late-night TV.
“Please,” Rebecca said. She didn’t say anything else, but her blue eyes stayed locked on my face.
I think on some level I’d known from the beginning, from the moment Ami had sat down in my blue Adirondack chair and asked for my help, that I was going to say yes. I sighed softly. “I’ll see what I can find out, but I’m not making any promises.” I held up a hand. “And I’m not taking Ami’s money. Or yours.”
“I understand,” she said with a solemn nod. She got to her feet. “I hope this isn’t going to cause any problems with Marcus.”
I shook my head. “It’ll be okay.”
Maggie poked her head around the door then. “Hi,” she said. “We’re almost ready to start.” She had a gleam in her eye that told me she was going to work us hard.
I was right. By the time we finished the complete form at the end of the class, my T-shirt was damp and sticking to my body. Ruby crossed the floor, mopping sweat off her neck with a towel. “Hey, Kathleen, I’d still like to try to get some shots of Owen and Hercules along the walkway. Do you think we could reschedule for after supper tomorrow night?”
“I can’t think of any reason why not,” I said. “I’ll check my calendar when I get home, and if there’s a problem I’ll text you.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
I waited for Maggie to lock up, and we made a quick trip out to the Kings’ to try on our dresses. Other than a slight adjustment to the hem on my dress, they were perfect. When we got back in the truck, I handed Maggie my phone. “This is the final guest list for Roma’s shower,” I said. “Everybody we invited is coming.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Everyone loves Roma.” She scanned the names, then handed the phone back to me.
