by Sofie Ryan
“It’s not a mistake.” Mr. P. put a hand on my shoulder. “I wish that it was.”
“But we just had lunch,” I said stupidly, as though that somehow made death impossible.
Rose pulled a chair out from the table. “Sit down,” she said.
“I’ll get you a cup of tea,” Mr. P. said.
I sat down and Rose took a seat as well.
“What happened?” I asked. I patted my pocket, feeling for my phone. “I should call Nick.”
Rose reached across the table and put a hand firmly on mine. “Not now,” she said. “Nicolas is working.”
I opened my mouth to argue and closed it again. She was right. Mr. P. set a cup of tea in front of me. He looked at Rose. “Would you like a little hot?”
She nodded and gave him a tired smile. “I would, Alf. Thank you.”
“What do you know?” I asked after Rose had added milk and a little sugar to her cup.
“It looks as though the fire was contained just to Christine’s apartment. I haven’t spoken to Debra, but I know she and Socrates are all right. I wish I could tell you more.”
Just then there was a knock at the door. Rose got up to answer it. It was Mac.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, wrapping her in a hug.
She put a hand to his face for a moment. “Thank you.”
I got to my feet and Mac came across the room and put both arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder. “Are you all right?” he asked.
I nodded, swallowing hard a couple of times so I wouldn’t cry. “I’m glad you’re here. How did you know?”
“Alfred called me.”
I turned my head to Mr. P. and mouthed the words “Thank you.” He smiled back at me.
I let Mac go and sat down again. Rose moved over and gave her seat to Mac. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Mr. P. asked. “Or how about a cup of coffee?”
“Actually I think I’ll have the tea, please,” Mac said. He turned toward the counter, but Mr. P. was already on his feet. “Sit,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
“Thanks,” Mac said. He sat down and reached for my hand. “I don’t know a lot,” he continued, “just really a little more than the basics.”
Rose nodded, while I frowned. “How do you know anything?” I asked, feeling I’d missed a detail or two somewhere.
“Remember I went to look at that boat?” Mac asked.
I nodded.
“Kevin is a firefighter. He didn’t work the fire—he was off—but I called him and asked if he could find out anything about what happened.” Mr. P. set a cup and saucer on the table in front of him. “Thank you, Alfred,” he said.
“What did your friend say?” Rose asked.
“He said the fire was contained to Christine’s apartment. It’s too soon to know how it got started.” He cleared his throat and I reflexively tightened my grip on his hand. “At first no one knew she was inside because I guess she was supposed to be at a class at the university and her car wasn’t there. It turned out the class had been cancelled at the last minute when the prof had a flat tire driving back from Bangor.”
Rose closed her eyes for a moment. I pressed my lips together and blinked hard a couple of times. If it hadn’t been for a stupid flat tire Christine would be alive right now.
“She was studying,” I said.
Mac nodded. “That’s what they think.”
I looked at Rose who had opened her eyes again. “Remember how Debra teased her about being one of the mole people when she studied.”
Rose nodded. “I do remember.” She looked from Mac to Mr. P. “Debra said that when Christine was studying she liked to shut out the world. She’d sit on her bed with the door closed and the light off. She’d wear a big sweatshirt with the hood up and put on her headphones.”
Mac cleared his throat. “Kevin said the paramedics did all that they could. They worked on her for a long time.”
I looked at Rose. “Nicolas,” she said.
“He would do that.” I swiped at a tear that slid down my cheek.
Mac and I stayed at Rose’s for a little while longer. Finally she got up from the table and came around to me. She put a hand on the top of my head for a moment. “Go home,” she said. “You’re tired. We’ll figure out in the morning what comes next. There isn’t anything we can do now.”
I got to my feet and put my arms around her. “I love you,” I said.
She reached up to pat my cheek, a gesture she’d been doing as long as I could remember. “I love you, too.”
“If I find out anything else, I’ll let you know,” Mac promised at the door.
“We’ll do the same,” Mr. P. said. “Sleep well.”
I handed Mac my keys. He unlocked the apartment door and I followed Elvis inside.
I was tired and sad and I wasn’t sure what to do next. I dropped onto the sofa. Elvis climbed onto my lap and nuzzled my face like he knew something was wrong.
Mac hung up his coat and sat beside me.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just sit here with me for a few minutes.”
“I’ll sit here all night if that’s what you want.” He put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned my head against his chest, one hand still stroking Elvis’s fur.
I sighed. “I didn’t know Christine that well, but I liked her. I think maybe we were on the way to being friends.” I raised my head to look at him. “This feels personal, if that makes sense.”
He nodded. “It does. When someone dies unexpectedly—even if you don’t know them well—it’s not just the person that’s gone. It’s the potential relationship you might have had with them that you’ve lost as well.”
We sat there for maybe half an hour. I told Mac Christine’s story, about how she and Debra and Tim Grant met.
He laughed. “I can see why you liked her.”
“I keep thinking about how Debra must feel. They’ve been friends for so long.”
“She has Rose. Which means in a way she has all of us and we’ll help her any way we can.”
I liked the sound of that.
Elvis shifted on my lap then and yawned, which made me yawn, too.
“You need some sleep,” Mac said. “Go put on your pajamas.” He looked at the cat. “You, too.”
I followed Elvis into the bedroom and put on my flannel pjs. I realized Rose was right about them. They weren’t particularly sexy or flattering, but they were comfortable and comfort was what I needed. And I knew Mac wasn’t going to run screaming for the hills. He’d seen me look a lot worse.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Elvis took a few passes at his fur with a paw and called it a night. Then we padded out to the living room.
“I’m set,” I said.
Elvis meowed his agreement.
Mac put his arm around me and walked me into the bedroom. I sat down on the edge of the bed. “I don’t think I can sleep,” I said. “My brain doesn’t want to shut off.”
He leaned down and kissed me. “There isn’t anything you can do for anyone right now. Let the world turn without you for a little while. C’mon, lie down.”
Elvis was already settled on the nearby chair that we’d both given up pretending he didn’t sleep on almost every night.
I lay down mostly because I didn’t want to argue with Mac. Once he was gone I could get up and do . . . something.
Mac pulled the quilt over me and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to sit with you for a little while.”
“I’d like that,” I said. I didn’t want him to go. But I wasn’t going to go to sleep and there had to be something I could do, someone I could talk to. Nick might be home right now. I could call him.
“
Close your eyes,” Mac said.
I closed them, promising myself I’d stay there for just a minute and then I’d get up and send him home.
I didn’t.
I woke up with a start. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I felt disoriented. There was no sign of Elvis. I looked at the clock next to the bed. It was quarter to seven.
I got out of bed and stretched. I could go for a run, I thought. I could call Nick. He’d be up by now—unless he’d gotten in very late last night. I needed a cup of coffee first, I decided. I padded out to the kitchen.
Elvis was sitting on a stool at the counter. Mac was leaning against the counter. He held out a cup to me. “Coffee?”
I took it from him. “Uh, thank you,” I said. I took a sip. It was hot and good and just what I needed. “What are you doing here?”
He gestured at the sofa. “I stayed last night.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t hear you making coffee.” I looked at Elvis. “I can’t believe he didn’t wake me up.”
Mac smiled. “We’re both very stealthy—like ninjas.”
The cat bobbed his head as though he was agreeing.
“And you slept like you were hibernating. I could have been grinding coffee and singing opera out here and you wouldn’t have woken up.”
I smiled back at him over my cup. “Somehow I don’t think I would have slept through the experience of hearing you sing opera.” I brushed my hair back off my face and it hit me then that not only was I still in my less-than-flattering nightwear, I also hadn’t brushed my teeth and who knew what my hair looked like.
There was a knock at the door then.
“Merow!” Elvis said.
Mac pushed away from the counter. “I’ll get it.”
It was Rose. She was wearing a flowered apron and carrying a tray. “Good morning,” she said to Mac. She came in and set the tray on the counter. Elvis craned his neck for a look. “A breakfast bowl for each of you,” she said. “They’re hot, so you need to eat them now.”
I tried to run my hand through my hair, but it was so knotted I couldn’t. “Umm, thank you,” I said.
When I didn’t make a move toward the food, Rose made a shooing motion with her hand. “It’s getting cold,” she said.
I moved then, picking up a bowl and grabbing two forks from a nearby drawer. I handed one to Mac.
“Do you know anything more than we did last night?” I asked.
Rose shook her head. “Alfred and I will ride with you if that’s all right. We have some things to do.”
I nodded. “Of course it’s all right.”
“I’ll see you in a little bit then,” she said.
As she moved past me I caught her hand for a moment and gave it a squeeze. She gave me a small smile back.
Rose’s breakfast bowl was a mix of egg, sweet potato cubes, red pepper, onions, mushrooms and zucchini with a dash or two of sriracha and some shredded cheddar. Like everything she made, it was delicious.
I sat down next to Elvis. He looked inquiringly at me. I fished a bite of egg out of the bowl and held it out to him. He licked his whiskers in anticipation and took it from me.
“This is good,” Mac said. He walked over and leaned against the counter again with his breakfast. I pushed his coffee cup closer. “What do you need from me?” he asked. “I can open the store if that will help.”
“I’m going to try Nick in a few minutes,” I said. “I don’t know if I’ll get him or not. And you heard Rose. She and Mr. P. are coming with me so I think I’m okay for opening.” I blew out a breath. “The pet expo starts today. They’re going to need to go out to the arena at some point, even with Cleveland and Memphis there. And Rose, at least, will probably want to see Debra.” I rubbed the back of my neck. The muscles had knotted right above my shoulder. “Mostly, if you can just be around all day that would help.”
“Of course I can,” he said. He leaned over and kissed me. Then he reached for his coffee and drank what was left in the cup. He straightened up then. “I’m going to go home, have a shower and get some clean clothes. We’ll figure out the day as it happens.”
I moved to slide off my chair, but he put a hand on my arm to stop me. “Sit, Sarah. I know where the door is.”
I reached up and grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling him close enough to kiss again.
He smiled. “I’ll see you in a little while,” he said.
He pulled on his shoes and grabbed his jacket.
“I’m glad you were here,” I said.
He nodded. “Me, too.”
I finished my breakfast and a second cup of coffee. Then I tried calling Nick. I got his voice mail. I left a message asking him to call. I had so many questions. Why hadn’t Christine gotten out of the apartment? What had taken the firefighters so long to get to her?
* * *
* * *
When I stepped out into the hallway, Mr. P. was just coming out of Rose’s apartment. “Good morning, Sarah,” he said. “Rose will just be a minute.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’m running a little early.” When I hadn’t been able to reach Nick I’d called Jess. Talking to her had made me feel better. “Nick’s probably asleep,” she’d said. “You know he’ll call you. Once you get some answers from him you can figure out what to do next.”
I glanced at the door to Rose’s apartment. “Is she okay?”
He nodded. “She is. She’s sad and I know she’s worried about Debra, but you know Rosie. She’s strong.” He studied my face for a moment. “How are you?”
“I’m all right. Sad because I was just getting to know Christine and I liked her. A little frustrated because I want to do something, but I don’t know what.”
“That’s understandable, my dear,” he said.
Rose came out of the apartment then, her coat buttoned, tote bag over her arm. “I’m ready,” she said. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” She looked around. “Did Mac already leave?”
I nodded. “He wanted to get cleaned up.”
We went out to the SUV and I unlocked the door. Mr. P. opened the back passenger side so Elvis could jump up on the seat.
“Thank you for calling Mac last night,” I said to Rose.
“I like him,” she said.
For a moment I felt my throat tighten. Rose had tried so hard to get Nick and me together. It was the happy ending she’d thought would be perfect. It just wasn’t perfect for us. I knew this was her way of saying if Mac made me happy that was good enough for her.
“Me, too,” I said.
Rose didn’t say anything else until we turned at the corner and headed in the direction of Second Chance. “I spoke to Debra,” she said. “That’s why I kept you waiting.”
“How is she?” I asked.
“She’s upset and she blames herself.”
“It’s not her fault,” I said, shaking my head.
“She thinks she should have been there. Socrates got something sticky on his tail. She decided to take him to a groomer instead of dealing with it herself, otherwise she would have been at the apartment.”
I gave an involuntary shiver as though an icy finger had just trailed up my spine. “If Debra had been there, she might have been trapped as well.”
I saw Rose nod out of the corner of my eye. “Yes, she might have been, but Debra thinks if she’d been there she would have been in the living room and seen the fire in time.”
“That’s too much responsibility for one person to put on themselves,” Mr. P. said.
“Do you think the fire could be connected in any way to the vandalism at the cat shows in New Hampshire?” I asked. “Socrates is one of the top cats and Debra was staying with Christine.”
Mr. P. hesitated before he spoke. “I think it’s too soon to speculate. We don’t even know the c
ause of the fire at this point.”
He was right. It was a bad idea to jump to conclusions when we knew so little.
“I’d like to go see Debra later,” Rose said.
I glanced over at her. “I’ll take you. Just tell me when.”
She smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”
I looked in the rearview mirror at Mr. P. “When do you need to go to the arena?”
“Late morning,” he said. “But Memphis is picking me up. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”
Mac’s truck was in its spot by the garage workshop and Charlotte was coming along the sidewalk as I pulled into the lot. She joined us as we got out of the SUV, hugging Rose and then me. “I’m so sorry about your friend,” she said.
Seeing her reminded me that I hadn’t heard back from Nick. I pulled out my phone. There were no new texts from him. Where was he?
We went inside and as soon as I stepped into the shop I could smell the coffee. Thank you, Mac, I said silently.
“I’m going to go make the tea,” Charlotte said.
“I’ll come with you,” Rose said. She patted the side of her bag. “I have cake.”
When something good happened Rose baked; whether it was Avery getting an A in chemistry, or Elvis not biting the vet tech when he got his teeth cleaned, we had cake to celebrate. Or pie. When something bad happened she also baked. When I injured my arm we had cake. When a tree fell on Nick’s car we had cake. It was her way of saying she loved us.
Mr. P. touched my arm. “We need to have a meeting to talk about the case and everything else.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said.
“Will ten o’clock work for you?” he asked.
I nodded. “It will.”
I’d been at my desk about half an hour, collecting orders from the shop’s website, when there was a knock on my door. “C’mon in,” I said as I added the last item to my list. I looked up to find Jess standing there. “What’re you doing here?” I said.
She held up a large canvas carryall. It was stuffed with pillows. “I wanted to drop these off and see how you were.”
