by Cate Conte
Ellory spoke for a couple minutes while Grandpa listened impassively. Then Grandpa spoke, presumably to ask a question or two. The whole thing looked very civil. It infuriated me. I thought one of the greatest skills anyone could have was holding a cop face. These two—not surprisingly—could win awards for it.
I hurried back to the kitchen. Ethan glanced up. “Everything okay?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, picking up my cell phone. I pressed the button for my mom’s cell and was relieved when she answered, sounding completely normal. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetheart.” She spoke loudly against the noise of the crowd in the background. Guess they were at their dinner. “What’s going on?”
“Are you out with Dad?”
“Yes. We came to the new Indian restaurant in Turtle Point. It’s packed! Is everything okay?”
“Yes, just checking to make sure Dad didn’t get pulled into work and took you out to dinner. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I hung up and called Sam. She didn’t answer, but a text message came through right after the phone went to voice mail.
I’m in yoga class. Call you back in a bit.
Phew. Val was my last family roll call, but just as I scrolled to her number, Grandpa returned. He looked troubled, but not the kind of trouble that meant someone close to us was hurt or worse.
“Grandpa?” I went over to him. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone’s fine,” he assured me. “Can you come out here for a minute though?”
Puzzled, I followed him back out to the hall. Ellory was still there. He nodded at me. I wanted to tell him to find a new way of communicating—like maybe speaking—but didn’t want to sound hostile.
“Sergeant Ellory needs to ask you about something,” Grandpa said, keeping his hand protectively on my shoulder.
I frowned. “What?”
“Your cat toys,” Ellory said.
That was certainly not what I expected. All this drama over a cat toy? Why didn’t he just come over and ask to buy one? I didn’t know he had cats. “My signature café toys? They’re great, aren’t they? One of my volunteers makes them. Did you want one? How many cats do you have?” I started for the basket of them I kept in a cabinet in the hall, but Grandpa held me in place.
“No, I don’t want one. I need to know who makes them,” Ellory said. I could see him clenching his jaw in impatience.
I frowned. “Adele Barrows. Why?”
“And are they exclusive to your café? No one else has access to them?”
“Brand-new and exclusive to us, yes. Adele delivered the first batch yesterday. I mean, I think she gave some to Katrina and Gigi, the other people who work with the cats, but that’s it.”
He nodded. “Thanks. Leo, I appreciate your help tonight.” He turned and walked to the door. Grandpa let him out and closed the door behind him.
“What the heck?” I asked.
Grandpa regarded me solemnly. “Maddie. I have to tell you something but you have to keep it between us for now.”
I felt the slow somersault of dread in my stomach. Wordlessly, I nodded. This sounded … bad. I wasn’t quite sure why, since we were talking about fuzzy cat mice, but it did.
But before he could say more, a car careened to a halt in front of the house, and then footsteps sounded on the porch followed by frantic knocking.
I was closer so I yanked it open.
It was Katrina. And she looked completely freaked out.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Maddie. Oh my God. I don’t even—I can’t…” She bent over, almost hyperventilating.
“Katrina? What’s going on? What’s happened?” Concerned, I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the house. “Do you need to sit?” I glanced at Grandpa, who sprang into action and took Katrina’s other arm. We both led her to the couch.
She sank into it and covered her face with her hands.
“Seriously. You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” I sat down next to her.
She finally looked up at me. “It’s … Holly Hawthorne,” she whispered.
“Holly Hawthorne?” Confused, I looked at Grandpa again. He avoided my eyes. “Why are you so upset about her?”
“She’s dead,” Katrina choked out. “And I’m afraid Adele finally lost it and killed her.”
Chapter 9
My head was spinning, and it couldn’t be from my long-forgotten glass of wine. I’d barely had three sips. “Dead? What? Katrina. Are you sure? How do you know this?”
Then my brain clicked the pieces together. Ellory’s visit. He and Grandpa standing outside whispering. I turned and looked at Grandpa and knew I was right. He stared at Katrina with fascination. I could tell he wanted to ask her how she knew. Heck, so did I.
“She was found on her private beach tonight. Facedown in the sand. At her parents’ summer house here in Daybreak. The one she and Heather share.” Katrina swallowed. “They’re questioning Adele!” She looked at Grandpa, fresh tears filling her eyes. “She’s such a good person. But she has a temper. Oh my God, do you think she really did it?” She buried her face in her hands again.
I looked at Grandpa. “Is this why Ellory was here?”
“Come on,” Grandpa said, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “Let’s go in the kitchen. Katrina, we’re getting pizza. You should eat something.”
She started to shake her head, but Grandpa pulled her up and led her down the hall. “You need to eat,” he repeated firmly. Sometimes he got into a real mother hen mode. “There’s nothing else you can do right now. We all just need to calm down until this gets sorted out. Okay?”
I started toward the kitchen after them, then stopped and went back to the door. I flipped the dead bolt, something I hardly ever remembered to do here. Crime on the island was pretty minimal. Drugs, mostly. Some drug-related robberies. Usually in the more high-end areas. Although these days the island overall was considered high end, a place where the rich and famous came to spend their summers. Then you had your domestic altercations, which were more common in a place like this than one might think. Especially in the winter, when all the people were mostly gone, businesses were shuttered, and activities ranged from drinking at the bar to drinking in your house. Tempers were short. But murder? Aside from Chamber of Commerce President Frank O’Malley’s untimely death a couple months ago, murders around here were basically nonexistent.
When I reached the kitchen, Grandpa was still trying to talk to Katrina. My mind worked overtime, trying to figure out why Katrina thought Adele had killed Holly. Sure, Adele seemed to be holding a grudge against her, but murder? Did that mean there were things about my star volunteer that I wasn’t aware of? I didn’t want to believe it. Not things of that magnitude, anyway. I had good people instincts, and I’d always trusted Adele. Still, I shivered, thinking of her vitriol-filled reaction to Holly’s presence in the café earlier today.
The doorbell rang again. The pizza. I grabbed my wallet. Ethan scrambled out of his chair and followed me.
“What the…” he muttered when we were out of earshot of the kitchen. “Did they say that lady’s dead? The one who got in the fight with Adele today?”
“That’s what they’re saying,” I said grimly.
I yanked the door open and found Harry Peterson on the porch. Harry worked for about five different places on the island. Sometimes in a given day. So it was hard to keep track of which hat he was wearing. Harry was somewhere between seventy and ninety. I thought he looked like Morgan Freeman. A little shorter though.
“Maddie.” Harry presented the pizzas with a flourish.
I took the boxes gratefully. “Thanks, Harry. How much?”
He fumbled for the slip in his pocket, his rheumy eyes lingering on Ethan with unabashed curiosity. “It’s $24.75. You Maddie’s beau?” he asked, leaning forward as if Ethan was about to share a secret with him.
I wanted to knock my head against the wall. “No, Harry.”
Ethan sup
pressed a smile. Harry shrugged. “Had to ask.” While he counted out my change, he said, “Hey, you hear about the misfortune the Hawthorne lady ran into tonight?”
I froze. “What do you mean?” I asked carefully. How had this news spread so fast?
“I mean, Miss Holly Hawthorne’s deceased. Someone finally decided they’d had their share of her antics, I guess.” He shook his head and handed me a pile of ones. I counted five and handed them back for a tip. He thanked me and pocketed it. “Say, wasn’t she here today causing some trouble for ya?”
“Thanks for the pizza, Harry.” I closed the door before he could ask anything else, and slumped against the wall. From the open window, I could hear the street sounds. Harry making his way back to his junky old car and firing up the engine, people strolling by enjoying the summer night, either on their way back to the ferry dock down the street or maybe heading to the lobster shack for dinner. Normal people, doing normal things with their lives. I’d never wanted to be a normal person. Too boring. But lately, since moving back to Daybreak and dealing with seemingly endless insanity, I craved normal. Although I wasn’t even sure what that meant anymore.
Ethan took the boxes from me. “Should we go back in there?”
“I guess we have no choice.” I followed him into the kitchen, feeling like my flip-flops were attached to blocks of cement, making my feet drag. Katrina’s eyes were still red, but she seemed a bit more under control.
Ethan dropped the boxes on the counter and pulled out some plates. I had no idea if anyone had any appetite at all. My stomach growled, but I felt like there was a giant boulder sitting somewhere between my throat and my chest that would make it impossible for any food to reach its destination.
“So what’s happening to Adele?” I asked, unable to stand the silence any longer. “Katrina, did she call you? Is that how you found out about this?”
Katrina nodded. “The cops had just left her house. She was really upset when she called me. Just kept saying she knew it.”
Well, at least they hadn’t dragged her to the station. “Knew what?” I asked.
Katrina lifted her shoulders miserably. “She was pretty hysterical.”
“Which cops went to see her?” I asked. Grandpa looked at me. I shrugged. “Just out of curiosity.” I wanted to know if it was Ellory. He was usually the big shot in charge of these things. Well, at least the one other murder I had experience with. But if he’d been here and had sent, say, Craig, that was different. Craig was not as experienced, so if they’d sent him they may not be as serious about Adele as Katrina feared.
Katrina shook her head. “No idea. But it doesn’t have to mean anything, right, Leo?” She looked hopefully at Grandpa. “I mean, maybe I got a little freaked out when she told me. Mostly because she was freaking out. The police have to question everyone who had an issue with Holly, right? Although that could take a long time, knowing … how everyone, uh, felt about her. But they’re not going to arrest Adele or anything, are they?”
All eyes turned toward Grandpa, waiting for words of wisdom, or at least comfort.
Chapter 10
My cell phone rang, saving Grandpa from having to formulate an answer at that moment. I glanced at the screen. My sister Val. I picked it up. “Hey. Can I call you back? It’s a little crazy here—”
“Maddie,” she interrupted. “I need Grandpa.”
“What’s wrong?” Given the tone of her voice, I sensed this was not good news. This whole night was turning into crazy town.
“The police just came here looking for Cole. They wouldn’t tell me what about. But it sounded serious, and I can’t get a hold of him. I haven’t talked to him since this morning. And no one’s answering at his parents’ house.” She sounded completely panicked.
“Cole? The police?” I’d never liked my sister’s husband much. He struck me as a guy with little ambition who got by riding Daddy’s coattails. His father was a big-shot defense attorney who defended high-profile criminals in the Boston court system, and Cole had been absorbed into the family business. Still, I’d never had him pegged as someone who’d be in trouble with the police. I glanced at Grandpa, who was listening to my side of the conversation with an odd look on his face. “Val. Relax. I’m sure it’s nothing. Especially knowing who his father is. But Grandpa’s right here. Hold on.” I handed the phone to him, raising my eyebrows in a silent question. He took it and left the room.
Katrina looked as dismayed about his departure as I felt. Ethan grabbed a piece of pizza and munched on it, his eyes darting back and forth between us nervously. Lacking something to do, I took a piece and chewed on it without really tasting it. “Katrina,” I said, once I’d swallowed. “Why would you possibly think Adele killed Holly? I mean, you guys are really good friends, right? And you wouldn’t be friends with a murderer.” I laughed a little nervously, but she just sat there staring at me. I tried again. “Are you worried because of what happened here today?”
She barked out a laugh. “I wish it were as simple as that,” she muttered.
“Then why?” I pressed.
Katrina hesitated, her eyes landing on Ethan. I sighed. I loved this island, but people were wary with anyone they considered an outsider. Which often meant people who hadn’t been born fifth-generation Daybreakers or something ridiculous like that.
“If you’re worried about Ethan, don’t,” I said bluntly. “If you trust me, you can trust him. End of story.”
Ethan flashed Katrina a thumbs-up, still chewing on his pizza. I’m glad he was so zen nothing affected his appetite.
Katrina looked like she had no idea what to make of him—especially since he was still eating during a time like this—but turned back to me. “Fine. Holly and Adele have—had—a history.”
“The cat last summer?”
“Among other things, yes. They … crossed paths often. And they really didn’t like each other. And Adele, well, she can hold a grudge like no one you’ve ever seen.”
None of that surprised me, from what I’d picked up in the short time I’d known her. Still it didn’t scream murderer to me. “Why did they cross paths often? Have there been that many cats?”
“Some,” Katrina muttered. “Long story.”
“Well, now’s as good a time as any,” I said.
Katrina squirmed a bit. Clearly she didn’t want to tell me, which made me want to know even more. What other kind of history could Adele and Holly Hawthorne possibly have together? If Katrina wouldn’t tell me, I was going to get to the bottom of it myself.
Grandpa came back in and all eyes turned to him.
“Hey,” I said, letting Katrina off the hook for now. “Is Val okay?”
He nodded and took his seat, reaching for the pizza box. I waited while he selected a slice and took a bite.
“Well?” I demanded, exasperated.
He sent me a look that clearly said Not now and turned back to Katrina. “So you were asking me about the police questioning Adele,” he said.
Katrina nodded. “Is that normal?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Is it? It seems extreme to me if it’s all because they had a disagreement today. Unless there’s something that everyone here knows about but me.” I shot Katrina a look but she avoided my eyes.
“Listen, doll.” Grandpa reached out and squeezed my hand. “And you,” he said to Katrina. “You listen, too. Adele has a reputation for being … a hothead. I know that’s no surprise to you. She didn’t try to hide the fact that she was upset with Holly. And in cases like this, any good cop worth his salt starts with the most recent problem someone had and works from there. It’s all we can do.”
It sounded rational enough. As much as I hated to admit it because it hit home, it made sense to start with the person who’d participated in a screaming match with the victim a few hours before. I still didn’t believe Adele would go to that length to make a point. She’d won. Holly wasn’t getting a cat, at least not from the only rescue place on the island. Plus the cats Adele
took care of were her whole world. She fed feral cats—cats who weren’t getting their meals from any other source, aside from what they could catch and eat on their own—all around the island, pretty much by herself. Gigi helped but Adele clearly led the charge. And she felt very strongly that the cats depended on her. So why would she jeopardize their ability to eat just to get back at Holly Hawthorne?
“So what happens next?” I said finally, when the silence in the room had stretched to the breaking point.
Grandpa looked at me. “The police investigate,” he said. “And we let them do their jobs.”
That was kind of funny, coming from him. He was probably the last person who would stay out of this. He couldn’t really help it. Police work was in his blood, and sometimes he forgot he’d retired. Especially when things like this happened. I’m sure a little piece of him wished that if a murder or two had to happen, it would’ve happened while he could still officially be part of the investigation. Most days, Grandpa glossed over the minor detail of his retirement. Word on the street was that the new chief got a little prickly about Grandpa’s involvement in official police business. I could’ve told the new chief to save his energy. Grandpa would find a way to keep himself in the know until the day he left the planet.
Katrina finally calmed down enough to eat a piece of pizza. Half of one, anyway. When she couldn’t seem to choke down another bite, she excused herself. I walked her to the door.
“Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?” I asked in a low voice, glancing behind me to make sure Grandpa hadn’t followed me.
Katrina’s eyes slid away. “I just worry about Adele,” she said. “She’s been drinking a lot more. She gets so angry. I know she’s overwhelmed with trying to save the world, and people like Holly really upset her. But I guess we’ll see, right?”
