by Esme Addison
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be there first thing. You and I need to have a talk.”
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning in the shop, Alex was surprised to see her first customer.
It wasn’t Jack.
It was Evelyn Robinson. She still looked unnaturally pale, like she’d been hiding in a dark room, crying for days. And considering that her husband had accidentally killed himself, she probably had been. Her brown hair, which Alex could tell had been cut into a chic chin-length bob with blunt-cut bangs, now hung limply, framing her oval face.
The front door opened again, and a teenage boy entered with a sullen expression on his face, hands jammed into the pockets of his faded black skinny jeans.
Evelyn held up the business card Alex had given her the night before. “I need something for anxiety,” she said when she approached the counter. “My nerves are … bad.” Her lips trembled, and Alex wondered if she would start crying right here on the shop floor.
“I have just the thing. One moment.” She went to a shelf of jars filled with loose teas and began adding herbs from several glass jars into a sachet for her.
Evelyn followed her to the shelf. “Anything for grief? For the pain I’m feeling?” She looked back at the teenager and then at Alex. “That’s my son, Tanner. Sixteen and angry with the world.”
Alex paused and looked past the woman to her son. She smiled at the boy, who ignored her and crossed his arms over his T-shirt, black with a picture of ET and emblazoned with the words “Phone home?” from the famous movie.
“We don’t have anything for grief specifically, but what I do have is ashwagandha, St. John’s Wort, valerian, and lavender for anxiety and depression.” She turned around and handed the bag to the woman. “Drink two to three cups beginning around five pm. By bedtime you should sleep soundly. And you need to sleep. I can tell you’re not rested. The effects should carry over to the next day … you’ll feel calmer, more relaxed.”
Evelyn followed Alex to the counter. “How can I rest knowing that my husband’s murderer is walking around free?”
Alex glanced at the teenager with alarm. Did he know what his mother thought? But he appeared not to have heard, or maybe he’d heard it all before and didn’t care. Alex rang up the purchase, took Evelyn’s money, and began counting her change.
“I talked to Detective Frazier about your case,” she began in a low voice. “We’re friends, and of course, while he didn’t tell me anything confidential, he did tell me that the evidence clearly pointed to a determination of accidental death by overdose.” She handed the woman her change. “Besides, who would want to kill your husband? By all accounts he had no enemies.”
Evelyn’s eyes shone with tears as she stared at Alex. “I heard about you. After we met last night, I looked up your store’s website, and your name came up on a local blog. You found out who killed that man when the same detective who is ruining my life charged your aunt.” Her eyes brightened. “Why can’t you do the same for me?”
Alex paused, realizing what the woman was asking. She shook her head. “I really wish I could help you. But there’s nothing to go on. No clues, no suspects.”
“But you know the detective, right? You know how he is, like a dog with a bone even when he’s on the right track.” Evelyn looked furtively over her shoulder. “Look, I can—”
The front doorbell chimed, and Jack entered the shop, nodding at the teenager when he saw him.
Tanner glanced at Jack and scowled, finally speaking. “I’m going outside, Mom. The vibrations in here just tanked.”
Jack’s face was stony as the teenager rushed past him.
Evelyn barely acknowledged her son when he left, preferring to glare at Jack.
Alex turned back to the woman, placing her hand on her wrist. “What were you going to say?”
“Forget it. Nothing.” She grabbed her bag and hurried out of the store.
Jack froze in place, not turning to look after Evelyn. A muscle on his jaw twitched. “What was that about?”
“She bought tea.”
“Alright, I won’t pry. And I also can’t stay long—sorry. But you said you wanted to talk?”
“Right …” She told him about Montgomery’s lack of an alibi.
Jack laughed. “The mayor was in the bathroom. Okay. You want me to confirm that with him?”
“Yes, I do.” She shot him a look of incredulity. “Isn’t that your job? Or should I do that for you?” She winced when she realized how acerbic she sounded. “Sorry.”
“Clearly someone needs a hug.” He went behind the counter and gathered her in his arms before she could protest, and held her for a moment. “See,” he said, his lips against her hair. “This is why I don’t want you involved in my case. Besides the fact that it’s not legal for you to do so, it wreaks havoc on our personal relationship. You see that, right?”
The store was empty for the moment, so Alex allowed herself to relax against his chest.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about with you,” he said, voice still gentle. “You’ve got to stay out of my case. Please. For us. For me. Just let me do my job.”
Her arms were wrapped tight around his waist. He felt so good to her. Strong. Comforting. She really, really didn’t want to upset him, to mess up their relationship, but … “I’m sorry. I just want to prove that Celeste didn’t do this, that there are other viable suspects.”
Alex could feel his body tense at the mention of Celeste’s name. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me about Celeste?” He gently pulled away from her and returned to the opposite side of the counter. The tenderness he’d displayed only a moment earlier was gone, and she knew she’d get nothing more on that topic. “Did you talk to Montgomery? Have you looked at Bryce Greenberg?”
He inhaled again, this time more slowly and deeply, as if he was counting to ten in his mind. “I think it will be better for us if we don’t discuss the case further.”
She leaned forward, elbows on the counter, chin in her hands, and gazed at him intently. “I’ll take that as a yes. What did you find out? That both Bryce and Montgomery can’t account for their whereabouts when Neve was killed?”
He gave her an inscrutable look but didn’t comment.
“Or how about the fact that they both had preexisting relationships with her?”
Jack shook his head. “You’re wasting your time. The evidence against Celeste is overwhelming. In fact—” He stopped himself. “I’ve already said too much.” He slapped the counter lightly. “I have to go.”
* * *
Once Lidia arrived at the store, she sent Alex on an errand to the local farmers market. On her way there, she texted Pepper to ask a favor. The marketplace, on a grassy patch of land near the town park, operated every day from eight am to twelve pm during the summer. Her aunt needed fresh peaches and apples for desserts she’d be making in the coming days, and Alex had volunteered, wanting to get out in the sunshine and salty breeze.
The market was filled with locals and tourists alike, wandering through the four long rows of venders. There were freshly picked okra, black-eyed peas and green beans, local honey, and every in-season fruit one could think of. A basket from the shop swung from her arm as she stopped at one table and sampled a cube of melon, fresh basil at another, and a spoonful of tomato cobbler at a third. But she stopped when she heard someone behind her call her name.
She turned to see Montgomery coming toward her, a large iced coffee in his hand. Well, well, speak of the devil …
She stood still, waiting for him to reach her. She wanted to talk to him. When he came closer, Alex noticed a ring on the pinky finger of his left hand, a thicker than usual silver band with an oval crystal in the center, bright green with a black swirl in the center.
“We meet again.” He grinned at her. “How are you?”
She returned the greeting, wondering if he had time to talk. She gestured toward his coffee. “That looks good. Where did you get it?”
>
“Walk with me and I’ll buy you one.”
She stared at him for a moment, wanting to get information from him, yet not really wanting to go with him. But there was something about him—yes, she did want to walk with him. He could probably help her. “You’re offering me coffee?” She smiled. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“I understand you want to work with my cousin?”
“Ah yes, lovely, sweet Minka. She’s such a bright ray of light, isn’t she?” He grinned good-naturedly. “I can tell she wants to do good in the world, and I think I can use her. My foundation needs people like her, and if I do move to this area and open up a new office, I certainly want someone with her passion and drive to spearhead our efforts.”
Alex gave him a closer look. He seemed sincere where Minka was concerned. She decided to relax a little. Maybe working with his foundation, whatever it was, would be good for Minka.
They walked the next aisle over, and Montgomery led her to a booth offering coffee beans grown in Ecuador but roasted in Swansboro, a small town about an hour east. She placed her order, he paid for the coffee, and they walked over to a bench and sat.
“I’d actually like to know more about you.”
“What would you like to know?” he said in a gracious tone. “I’m an open book.”
Alex wondered again at her luck. Here he was giving her the perfect opportunity to find out more about his past relationship with Neve without her appearing to pry. “First of all, I’d like to know how you knew Neve Ryland.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And how will that help you get to know me?”
“It will help me figure out if you’re a killer, for one.” She smiled at him as if she was joking. But she wasn’t.
He laughed. “I’m game. I’m all for being eliminated from your little list of suspects.”
Alex noted the condescending edge to his voice and knew he had zero concern about being a suspect. Was that because he was innocent or because he knew he would never get caught?
His gaze was penetrating but his voice lighthearted. “Does the detective know what you’re doing? I hear you two are an item.” He paused. “Of course he knows. And it’s a problem.” He chuckled.
“You’re very observant.”
“‘Intuitive’ would be a better word.” He took a moment. “Neve painted a mural for one of our offices. I wouldn’t have handled the logistics of the commission—I have a man for that.” His smile was rueful. “What a talent.”
“You’ve probably heard that the murder weapon was a hunk of ozite, the mineral that only your company mines.”
He nodded. “Yes, that was unfortunate.”
Alex hesitated. What was unfortunate? The murder? Or the use of his mined mineral as the weapon? As she looked at him, she realized that he was very hard to read. She wondered if she delved into his mind what she would see. Then immediately admonished herself for the thought. But then again, if he was a murder suspect like Jasper, wasn’t it okay? Certainly, if she’d done it to Jasper, she could do it to Montgomery?
“How did Neve get the mineral, and why did she give it to Jasper?”
“I believe it’s called regifting? Someone gets a gift and then—”
“I’m familiar.”
“Right. Neve was a rare talent and a true beauty, inside and out. She was given that sample of ozite to represent that same rareness and beauty. It was at the reception for the mural she created for us. I think it was an inspired gift.”
“When did you give her the gift? And where?”
“It wasn’t from me exactly. One of my team. And maybe a year ago? Nine months maybe? I think it was at her Honolulu exhibit. It was a depiction of the Tide Jewels. Spectacular! Do you know the Japanese myth?”
“Actually, I do.”
“I had her create a mural depicting the sea god, Watatsumi, for our offices there.”
Alex nodded. “And she gave the mineral to Jasper.”
“I suppose. Is regifting a crime?”
“No, but murder is, as you very well know.”
“What possible reason could I have for wanting Neve dead?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
He was suddenly all serious, and Alex could swear the temperature dropped a few degrees. “Don’t you think looking for a murderer is a bit … risky?”
“Perhaps,” she agreed.
“Weren’t you a risk analyst before you moved to town?” Alex nodded slowly, wondering why he seemed to know so much about her.
“I have a team of risk analysts on my payroll, and I know the types of tools they use to analyze risk. What would your risk analysis matrix say about the foolhardiness of your endeavor?”
She thought about his question but didn’t say anything.
And he smiled. “I think if I consulted with my team of analysts, they’d tell you to stay out of it. You could get hurt,” he said reasonably, as if he was suggesting she put on sunblock when she went to the beach. “Someone you love could get hurt.”
Alex straightened in her chair. Oh, she was definitely going to search his memories. All bets were off. He had no idea who he was messing with, what she was capable of. She could command a wave of water to crash down on him if she wanted to. A feeling of power coursed through her body, and she could feel her face burning with anger. “Are you threatening me?”
Eyes wide, smile affable, he spread his hands placatingly. “Of course not, just a friendly tip.”
She rose from her seat, tossing her unfinished coffee into a nearby trashcan. Taking a deep breath, and as softly as possible—in case he could sense what she was doing—she reached into his mind with her own—and stopped.
It would seem Montgomery had his own walls up. She was stopped cold just on the periphery of his mind. It was a cold, dark, cavernous space with absolutely nothing there. Not the normal Mundane thoughts of what to get at the grocery shop on the way home, no wondering if he left the iron plugged in—just nothing. And then a cold, sticky feeling began to permeate her own mind, as if she was being covered in something oily and gross. The feeling pushed at her until she was out of his mind and firmly back into her own.
She gasped once she was free of the feeling, almost as if she’d been deep underwater and had just broken free to the surface and inhaled fresh air.
His smile seemed sincere, but his eyes glinted like ice in the sunlight. “Are you okay, Alex?”
Nodding, but unable to speak, she stumbled backward and away from him. When she was several feet away, she looked back at him. He was still standing in the same spot, sipping on his iced coffee, watching her with a smile on his face.
* * *
By the time Alex was halfway back to the shop, she remembered that she hadn’t purchased any fruit for her aunt. She stepped off the curb, almost walking in front of a slow-moving white SUV because she was distracted by the interaction with Montgomery. And they didn’t even honk at her!
Southerners, she thought warmly, were so polite. She waved an apology toward the tinted windows and stepped back onto the curb. Should she go back to the market? She definitely didn’t want to run into Montgomery again. And now he was coming to their house for dinner?
She did not want that man entering their home, but what could she say? She’d reached into his mind and found a slimy pit of nothingness there. Minka would be so disappointed; she’d been talking nonstop about her potential new role as saver of the earth. And her aunt? Well, she might listen. Aunt Lidia was so volatile at times, she wasn’t sure what to expect with her.
No, better to keep her thoughts to herself until she had more reason to share them. Besides, maybe it was just her. Back to present matters, though. She’d left the market empty-handed. She needed to go back. Her aunt wanted apples and peaches, and she didn’t want to explain why she’d returned without them.
She picked up her phone to call her aunt and let her know she’d be later than expected, when the phone rang in her
hand. She looked down at the screen. It was an image of Celeste, smiling and holding a coffee cup, from her days as a part-time barista.
Alex picked up immediately. “What’s up, Celeste?”
“Can you come to my house?” she cried into the phone. “Jack is here with his officers, and they’re searching the place.”
Chapter Fifteen
Celeste lived in the same neighborhood as Pepper, a historic row of townhouses that were all at least two hundred years old.
The homes were each uniquely designed and in an array of creamy pastel colors, with small patches of bright green yard curbed by wrought iron fences. Alex parked on the street in front of Celeste’s house. It wasn’t hard to find; it was the one with four police vehicles parked out in front.
As she made her way up the sidewalk to the door, Alex greeted several policemen that she knew. When she got to the door, she was barred from entrance by an officer she didn’t know. Smiling at him, she sent him a thought. Let me in. It’s okay. You won’t get in trouble.
He grinned her at. “Come on in,” he said as he stepped away from the door to her allow her entry. “Wait …” His brow furrowed at the words, and Alex hurried past before he realized what he’d done.
Celeste’s home was attractive in its simplicity. A bright teal color with black shutters and a yard bursting with yellow tulips. Alex had never been to her home, but she knew the general area. The house, Alex recalled Celeste telling her, had been in the Thomas family for generations.
It was clear a search had taken place. The home, furnished with sleek Scandinavian-style furniture, was decorated in tones of warm cream and yellow with bright splashes of blue and coral for accent. But now furniture had been moved out of place, stacks of books lay on the floor, and cabinet doors had been opened.
Pepper stood in the middle of the room with a scowl on her face.
“Hey.” Alex greeted, surprised to her there. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard the search was happening on the scanner, so I rushed over, hoping to get the details. then the officers told me I had to leave.” She exhaled loudly. “How can I do my job with all of these obstacles?”
