She grabbed her phone and sent a text to the Tokyo client letting him know that she’d take the job after all. Then she stood up and wrote down a few notes on a piece of scratch paper.
There were two records Ellie needed. The record hall database said they were stored in the basement. She remembered what Brody had said earlier about not going down into the sealed archives alone, but Ellie figured she would be in and out. If she was only running in and out, there wouldn’t be any reason to turn the oxygen on while she grabbed the records.
Once she was in the basement, Ellie was pleased to find that the doors were like the others she’d worked with in the past. They could be locked open, and she wouldn’t need to turn on the oxygen.
Ellie flipped the safety latch and pinned the door open. The piece of paper in her hand directed her to exactly where the record she was looking for was supposed to be located.
She moved quickly to a large metal filing cabinet in the back of the enclosure. From the hallway, you could only see the large stacks of books and records through the glass windows of the archive room but she knew that there were cabinets full of semiprecious documents in the back.
Just as she pulled the drawer she needed open, Ellie heard a sound that made her blood run cold. The door slammed shut, and she was locked in the archive enclosure. Fear gripped her chest as she remembered that she hadn’t turned the oxygen on when she came into the sealed room.
How had the door closed? She’d triple-checked to make sure it was locked open.
She got her answer when she reached the glass windows that looked out to the hallway. They stood there looking at her with eyes full of sorrow and regret. Ellie’s heart leapt with hope; maybe she could convince them to let her out.
“Please let me out,” Ellie begged as she pounded on the glass. “Please. Whatever is going on, I’ll leave town. I won’t say a word to anyone.” She suddenly thought of her cell phone and pulled it from her pocket. No signal.
She pounded on the window until her hand went numb. Tears poured down her killer’s face, and for one moment, it looked like they were about to move across the hallway and let her out. But they stopped and turned away.
“Please,” she said one last time before the oxygen deprivation took hold of her brain. “I want my mommy.”
Chapter Eight
Lara
I looked at my phone when I was halfway done with my pot pie. Sylvie hadn’t shown up for lunch, so I called her.
“Sorry, babe. I was trying to figure out what to do with this cat.”
“Cat?”
“Yeah, I was on the way to Al’s and I found a stray cat. I was hoping someone would take it, but no luck. Should I just leave it? It’s cute but I can tell it’s been neglected.”
“No, don’t leave it,” I said a little more frantically than I’d intended. “Bring it to the diner.”
“I can’t meet you for lunch. Stan’s afternoon help didn’t show up. He said I have to come in and work. I’ll keep it in the back of the ice cream shop. Can you come get it?”
I had no idea what the Magnolia and Willow’s policy on pets was, but I had a huge soft spot for cats. When I was little, my cat Linus was my constant companion. He slept with me every night and would sit on my lap and purr anytime I was sick or sad.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said.
Hopefully, Becca at the inn would let the cat stay if I paid a pet deposit. I couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving it on the street or taking the poor thing to the pound.
While I was paying the check, a man dressed in mechanic overalls burst through the diner door. “Officer Booth is being airlifted to the hospital in Memphis. She was in the basement of the archive hall responding to a call about a murder and someone bashed her head in,” the man announced to the whole room and then ran back out.
I went outside and heard the sound of the helicopter taking off close by the diner. It took a moment for the situation to register, but then my stomach did a flip and I thought I was going to throw up on the sidewalk.
If someone was dead at the archives, it either had to be Ellie or Brody. As I ran toward work, the scenarios kept playing out in my mind. I pulled out my phone and dialed Brody, but he didn’t pick up. Tears stung my eyes. What if he was dead? What if he’d killed Ellie?
Guilt racked my body. I knew it was her. She’d said before I left that she’d found a breakthrough in the case, and now someone had silenced her. It was all my fault. Ellie wouldn’t have been in Ash Road if I hadn’t begged her for help.t begged her for help.
Why had this case been so important to me? I should have just left town when I saw what a disaster the Horowitz estate would be to sort out.
When I got back to the library, I saw dozens of state police cars surrounding the area. There was yellow crime scene tape around the entire library and records building. It would have been impossible for me to get to the basement and see who was dead.
So, I did the only thing I could think of and stood on the sidewalk crying. Five minutes later, I heard a familiar voice right behind me.
“Lara, what’s going on?” Brody asked.
I whirled around to face him and found myself unable to hurtle the accusations I’d been so resolute about moments ago. “Oh my god, Brody, you’re alive,” I said and flung myself into his arms.
My sobbing intensified as the truth hit me hard. I buried my face in his muscular chest and Brody wrapped his arms tighter around me.
“What’s going on, Lara?” Brody asked again when my crying subsided a bit. “What happened?”
“Someone is dead in the archives, and an Officer Booth was called in. She’s being airlifted to a hospital in Memphis because someone attacked her too.” I tried to steady my breathing. “When I left to go to lunch, it was just you and Ellie left behind. That means that Ellie is dead.” My weeping ramped up again in earnest.
He stroked my hair and I listened to his heart beating in his chest. My brain screamed at me to pull away, but my body melted against him instead.
“Did you do it?” The question slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. The worst part was, I was still nuzzled against him when I asked.
Brody jumped back. A look of pure anguish flooded his features, and my heart broke knowing that I’d caused him pain. Still, in the back of my mind, I thought it could all be an act.
“You really think I killed your friend and tried to kill Officer Booth? That’s who you think I am?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I said, but the absence of him was a terrible void.
“What does it say about you that you ran right into the arms of a man you believe is a killer?” he growled. “Maybe you killed her. I went home for lunch. How do I know you’re not some psycho bit—” He cut himself off and turned away from me. Brody took off angrily down the sidewalk, and I’d thought he was leaving. Apparently he’d just been trying to walk off his anger because he got about a block away and came back.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t kill anyone. I’d never hurt someone, and I don’t really think you did either. We need to stick together.”
“That’s kind of hard to do when there are files missing that legally prove who inherits the Horowitz estate and now there has been a murder. My friend is probably dead, and you were the last person I saw her with,” I said, but I’d lost all of my venom.
“They’re going to arrest me, Lara. If I really was the last person who saw her alive, they’re going to pin this on me.”
“You’re certainly going to be a suspect if no one saw you at home but I don’t think they’re going to arrest you right away. If you didn’t do anything wrong, then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” I said.
Chapter Nine
Lara
“We should go to the police station,” Brody said. “If it’s Ellie, they’re going to need you to make an identification.”
I felt the blood drain f
rom my face and I suddenly felt the world spinning around me. Brody caught me by the elbows and kept me upright without embracing me again. I took several deep breaths and got myself calm again.
“I’m sorry. I’m not usually this much of a delicate flower,” I said, and I felt humiliated for swooning.
“You don’t need to be sorry. This is a pretty traumatic turn of events, and I think you’re doing well considering the circumstances.” Brody said.
“I don’t have a car.”
“We could walk, but the station is on the outskirts of town. Or we can take my car. It’s at my house,” he said.
I thought about the offer for a moment. Did I really believe he was a killer?
“There’s somewhere I need to go first,” I said, remembering the cat.
Brody cocked his head to the side and looked at me with one eyebrow raised. “Where?”
“Sylvie was supposed to meet me for lunch but she didn’t show. It was because she found a cat. She can’t keep it, and I can’t stomach the thought of it going to the pound. So I’m going to take it.”
“She didn’t show up for your lunch date when the murder was happening?” He seemed skeptical.
“I don’t think Sylvie killed Ellie. And if we go to the ice cream shop and she has a cat, her story holds.”
“What are you going to do with a cat? Your temporary home is a bed-and-breakfast, and you’re a nomad,” Brody said.
“I’m going to keep it in my room at the inn for right now. After that, I’ll figure something out. I can’t just leave it to go to the pound.”
“Fine,” Brody said and sighed. “Let’s go get the cat. The police probably aren’t going to be ready to talk to you for a while anyway.”
I’m not sure why the cat was suddenly so important to me, but it most likely had something to do with the loss of my friend. A cat would be a companion while I grieved, and Brody was right; I was a nomad. It was a lonely life.
We arrived at Stan’s Ice Cream Shop just in time to see a set of county deputies putting Sylvie in handcuffs. “It’s not what you think. The cat’s in the back room. Please take him,” she said.
“What’s she being arrested for?” Brody asked one of the deputies.
“That’s none of your concern, sir,” the younger one said to Brody in an excessively surly voice.
“Rogers, take her out to the car,” the older of the two barked at him. “Mr. O’Malley, she’s being arrested on suspicion of writing bad checks. We’ll have her processed and out on bail by morning.”
“Thank you, sir,” Brody said and shook the deputy’s hand.
Sylvie had seemed so sweet and sincere, and yet there was a web of suspicion quickly growing around her. I walked to the back, convinced that just because she might have been a thief, it didn’t mean Sylvie was a murder. I didn’t want to believe that I could have misread someone that badly.
Sure enough, the back room of the ice cream shop contained my prize. On top of a pile of old boxes was what I could only accurately describe as a giant ball of fluff.
The big kitty lifted his head and meowed at me before he began to groom his thick yellow fur. “You’re coming with me, big mister,” I said and crossed the room to him.
As if to ready himself, the cat got up from his reclined position and sat patiently on the box. I picked him up and carried him out through the ice cream shop.
Without a word, Brody followed me as I walked quickly to the inn. I needed to stow the cat in my room and get to the police station.
“I’ve never owned a cat, but you can’t put him in your room with no food, water, or a litter box, Lara,” Brody said.
“I think he’ll be alright for a little while,” I corrected.
“We don’t know how long we’ll be at the police station. Let’s just stop at the general store after we drop him off in your room. It’s a block over that way,” he said and pointed the opposite direction of the diner. “Unless you’d rather put him at my house,” Brody offered.
“Absolutely not. You’re not stealing my cat, Brody O’Malley,” I said and realized I’d already started to think of him as mine.
“Alright, sorry,” Brody said with a chuckle and put his hands up in surrender. “I know what it’s like to need a friend. What are you going to call him?”
“Hmm. Considering how this day has gone so far, I think that Jinx is appropriate,” I said.
“That’s an excellent name for a cat.”
Brody said there was a back door into the Magnolia and Willow, and we were able to smuggle Jinx in without detection. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the housekeeper came in to clean my room and discovered my secret, but for now, it was safe.
We walked quickly over to the general store, and I found everything I needed for the cat. After that, Brody and I went back to my room and set up our haul. Once Jinx had everything he needed, Brody and I went back to his house and got his car.
The short drive to the police station was quiet. I wanted to talk to him about everything that had gone wrong, and at the same time, I didn’t. It was soothing sitting there quietly next to him, and I didn’t want to ruin it with accusations and bickering. Even if it was a false sense of security, it was better than feeling like crud.
Brody parked his Mercedes in the small parking lot and we walked inside. We weren’t holding hands, but somehow, we were walking close enough that we could have been.
The inside of the police station was like a ghost town. As far as I could tell, the only person there was the bubbly, red-headed receptionist who introduced herself as Clair. She told us to have a seat and she’d try to find someone to speak with us as soon as possible.
“That’s going to be a while, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yeah, sugar. It is. You can leave, and I’ll have someone call you. But, to be honest, the best way to get anyone around here to actually pay attention to you is wait,” she answered sympathetically.
So Brody and I sat down in the tiny waiting area. The orange, plastic chairs became uncomfortable within minutes. There wasn’t much else in the wood-paneled room. There was a small table with a white plastic top and black metal legs. On top of it was an ancient coffee maker, Styrofoam cups, a container with sugar and sweetener, and a plastic bottle of non-dairy creamer. The coffee looked like it was from early that morning and had already begun to turn to brown sludge. Next to the table sat a watercooler with paper cups.
About a half hour into our wait, I was raking the toe of my shoe through the stiff, brown carpet on the floor. Clair came in and tutted when she saw the coffee maker.
“I’m a terrible host,” she said and took the pot away.
When she returned a few minutes later, it was clean and full of water. I watched her make a fresh pot of coffee and then leave the room again.
“I should call my father and see if he can get someone to come talk to us. This is ridiculous,” Brody said, and the sound of his voice made me jump because I’d been so spaced out. I could hear the hesitation when he spoke, and it was pretty obvious he didn’t want to talk to the mayor.
“Only if you want to, or if you think it will do any good,” I responded without any conviction.
“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I don’t’ want to talk to him, and I certainly don’t want to ask for any favors. But we’re going to be here all day and all night if someone doesn’t do something. I don’t think we’re a priority.”
We both sat quietly for a few more minutes, and then Brody pulled out his phone. “Here goes nothing.”
But before he’d finished dialing, two local police officers came through the front door of the station. They stopped to talk to Clair and didn’t notice us at first.
Clair said something I couldn’t hear and pointed at us. Both of the cops stopped talking for a moment and looked at Brody and me. Then they turned back to each other and had an animated and hushed conversation.
Eventually, both of them walked away in the opposite direction, and I let out a loud,
exasperated sigh. Brody threw his hands up in frustration, and they slapped his thighs as they came down.
“I’m going to call him. This is ridiculous,” he grumbled.
“Just give it a few minutes. Maybe they are grabbing a soda or something.”
A few minutes later, one of them showed up again. “Ma’am, can you come with me please?” I stood up, and Brody did too. “Just the lady,” the officer said.
“Unless you’re arresting her for something, I’m coming with you,” Brody said in a voice that was not to be argued with.
“Fine. Whatever. You’re not under arrest.”
We were escorted out of the waiting area to a sparsely furnished office. Brody and I sat in two slightly less uncomfortable black plastic chairs while the police officer took a seat across the desk.
“I’m actually here to ask a favor, Ma’am. So please excuse my lack of manners. This is my first homicide, and I’m a bit shaken.”
“What do you need from me?” I asked.
“We believe the deceased is Elenore Kazamakis. We can’t locate any next of kin, and we’d appreciate if you could I.D. the body. Our facilities aren’t that great, and we would like to move her remains to the next county. We need you to identify her first,” he said softly.
I bit my lower lip. I’d known it was probably Ellie, but now I had confirmation. “I will.”
The officer, whose name I learned was Clement Jenner, led us back to a small, mostly concrete room in the back of the police station. Inside of the chilly room was a single metal table. There was a body covered in a large white sheet on top of it.
Ellie’s body.
“I’m sorry that we don’t have any of the fancy viewing equipment they have in the big cities. You’ll have to make an up-close identification, but then we can get your friend over to the medical examiner,” he said and took a step that put him right next to Ellie. Officer Jenner reached out and grasped the top of the sheet. I could see his hands tremble and I remembered that this was his first time too. “Let me know when you’re ready,” he said in an unsteady voice.
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