by Tessa Kelly
“Okay.”
I swallowed hard.
Dear God! Could I have been so wrong about Josh?
I PLACED MY FINGERS on the keyboard, my eyes narrowing as I tried to block out all thoughts of murder and concentrate on my novel. The sentences hovered on the edge of my mind, not quite managing to form into a coherent whole.
Someone in the room gave a heavy sigh.
Blinking, I sat back in my swivel chair and stared around. Who was that?
Oh, right. It was me.
I took a deep breath and exhaled with force, trying to expel the tension in my chest. Then I spun round in my chair until the room began to blur around the edges. Fuzzy and out of focus, just like my mind this morning.
It was getting close to ten o’clock, and I’d been at my desk since eight, pretending I was writing and not really doing anything except stare blankly into space while my novel idled, unfinished.
Okay. I would have to accept that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with it today. I placed my fingers on the keyboard again and typed in the space under the chapter heading.
For future reference: seeing a friend flee from the scene of the crime is a recipe for writer’s block.
I closed the laptop and got up from the chair. Time to head to work—Kathy expected me to put in a double shift.
The phone rang as I was getting dressed. Not in the mood to talk to anyone, I let it go to voicemail.
Relentless, it rang again.
I sighed. They weren’t going to leave me alone. Might as well answer.
It was Will.
“Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
I smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “Don’t have time to chat, though. You know how Jeff gets when I’m late.”
“That’s okay. Just called to let you know we arrested Josh last night. He’s been asking to see you.”
I froze in the middle of putting on my shoes, balancing on one foot while the other hovered in mid-air.
Picking up on my silence, Will added quickly, “I promised to ask you but the decision is all yours.”
I cleared my throat. “I know. Thanks, Will. Was there anything else?”
“Uh, yeah. Just a sec.”
I listened to someone on his end tell him about some paperwork he requested. A moment later, he came back.
“Sorry about that. You asked if there was something else—there is. We determined that whoever murdered Dan is the same person that killed Alexa.”
He didn’t say it was Josh, but I was suddenly holding my breath. “You found fingerprints?”
“No. The perp wore gloves both times. But the gloves themselves can leave prints too, they’re just as unique. If we can find the actual gloves, we can match them to the prints.”
“But you haven’t found the gloves yet,” I guessed.
“No.”
“That doesn’t give us much.”
“True. Honestly? As of right now, Josh is the last person to see both of the victims alive. It doesn’t look good for him, I’m afraid.”
That was an understatement.
Dan Cobbs had been my only suspect, and now he was dead. It didn’t look good for Josh at all. But there had to be some other...
“What about John Edwards?” I asked, grasping at straws. “That guy’s name has been coming up an awful lot lately. Does he have an alibi for Alexa’s murder?”
“I already checked into him,” Will said. “He was at a play in Boston. His alibi is verified. It’s solid.”
“Did you check all the guests who were at the private viewing?”
“Yep. Their whereabouts are all accounted for.”
“There was also someone named Jenson Ray and Fabian Morris. They didn’t come to the viewing. Neither did Kenneth Sheppard, Marcel Bright’s agent.”
“Sheppard was at his nephew’s wedding,” Will said. “Jenson Ray claims he stayed at Morris’s with a migraine. Morris is his life partner, he was taking care of Ray all night. The housekeeper confirms it.”
I lowered myself on the edge of the storage bench. I was going to be late, but I couldn’t stir myself from the spot.
“Could Ray and Morris be lying?” I asked. “The housekeeper might’ve been paid off.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Will’s voice had a note of impatience in it now. “What would be the point, though? What’s their motive for killing Alexa?”
“I don’t know. It’s just the timing that bothers me. Too convenient, you know?”
“Sometimes a coincidence is just a coincidence,” Will pointed out.
I leaned my head against the wall, the fingers of my left hand squeezing my knee until it hurt.
Marlowe came over and sniffed at them, then began licking my knuckles.
Will cleared his throat. “Sandie? You there?”
“Yeah.” I sat up straight again and put on my other shoe, then snapped the dog leash on Marlowe.
“Look, Will, I have to go. Still need to take Marlowe back to Dad’s before he comes charging here looking for him.”
“All right.” He paused. “Have you decided if you’re going to see Josh?”
There was a loaded question.
“Not yet. I’ll let you know.”
I spent the day at work decorating cakes and thinking about Will’s question.
Should I see Josh?
After watching him speed away from the gallery, I didn’t know if I believed in his innocence anymore.
But if I didn’t go, I’d be left wondering.
In the end, Josh deserved the benefit of the doubt. As much as I deserved to have my peace of mind back.
Once work finished, I hung up my striped red and white apron and headed out.
My brother’s precinct was less than ten blocks away. I decided against taking a cab, hoping the walk would clear my head.
Will didn’t look surprised to see me as he took me into the back of the station to the holding cells.
Josh sat hunched in the corner on a bench. At my approach, he sprang to his feet and hurried over to the bars.
“Sandie, I was starting to think you weren’t gonna come.”
I glanced pointedly at Will, and he nodded. “I’ll be at my desk. Don’t be too long.”
Left alone with Josh, I put my hands in my pockets, then looked at him. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure I should come.”
He stared at me in apparent disbelief. “I didn’t kill Dan. You don’t think I did, do you?”
How should I know? A swarm of angry bees buzzed in my chest.
“I’m having a hard time believing you at the moment,” I said. “Seeing how I saw you running away from the crime scene. Will told you about that, didn’t he?”
“He did.” Josh leaned into the bars, squeezing them so tight it looked painful. “Come on, Sandie. I panicked, okay? I saw the body lying there, I knew I was already under suspicion. I shouldn’t have run, but I didn’t know what else to do. Can’t you understand that?”
I shook my head. I was running low on sympathy this afternoon.
“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place, Josh. What were you doing there so late?”
“That’s why I wanted you to come. So that I could explain.” His nostrils tensed as he took a slow breath. “I was on my way home after Luce della Vita when I got a call from Marcel Bright. He wanted me to pick up a package for him at the AGER.”
“A package?” I raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? Why would he ask you to do that?”
“It’s not that weird,” he said. “We do this kind of stuff for our big clients sometimes. Anyway, I told him I’d do it so I went over there. But when I got to the gallery, I found Dan. He was already dead so there was nothing I could do. I just got out of there as fast as I could.”
“You didn’t even think of calling the ambulance?” I asked. “What if you were wrong about him being dead?”
“I don’t think I was.” His mouth twisted with emotio
n. “Sandie? Do you believe me?”
Staring into his eyes, I hesitated. His story had holes in it, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about his art. Inspired and limpid. So full of emotion.
Could a person capable of creating those beautiful paintings be ruthless enough to push a man to his death?
The question hung in the air between us, unanswered.
Chapter 13
“Did Marcel Bright verify his story?”
Will looked up from his paperwork as I approached him. He rose and perched on the edge of his desk, clasping his hands in his lap. “That’s what I’m trying to find out, having trouble locating this Bright character. But even if he corroborates the story, White’s still not off the hook.”
“I know. You’ll call me when you find out something?”
“Sure thing.” He peered at me. “You doing okay, sis?”
I forced out a smile. “I can’t help worrying. That’s the second time Josh has been caught at a murder scene.”
“Exactly right. Two colleagues dead within the space of a weekend. Makes you wonder.” Will rubbed his chin with his knuckles, then play punched me on the arm. “But cheer up! We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
I nodded without conviction. My optimism was playing hide-and-seek with me lately.
“I better go.” I started to leave, then stopped.
Unable to help Josh, I needed to feel like I was still doing something, being useful.
“Will, would you check out something for me? It’s a long shot, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about since my lunch with Jeremiah Copeland. I wonder if he’s got any connection to the Metropolitan Opera House.”
His chin gave an upward jerk. “The old guy at the homeless shelter?”
“Yes. Before he became homeless, he claims to have a memory of being at the opera. It makes me wonder. It’s just a hunch, probably nothing, but can you see if anyone on the Met’s patron’s list matches Jeremiah’s description and age group?”
Will shrugged. “It’s the opera house, Sandie. Dudes who can afford to shell out thousands of dollars on patronage usually are in his age group.”
“Like I said, it’s a long shot.”
His eyes softened as he nodded. “All right. I’ll put one of our rookies on it.”
“Thanks, Will.”
I left the precinct and walked slowly toward home, wondering if I’d sent Will on a wild goose chase with the Metropolitan Opera project.
No way to tell. All I could do now was wait and see. In the meantime, I had no other clues about the old man to occupy my mind. My thoughts inevitably drifted back to Josh and the murders.
Was Marcel Bright mixed up in all of it somehow? If so, why would he frame Josh by sending him to the gallery when the truth would only be traced back to him?
And what about the other, the more odious possibility that Josh was lying to us?
My mind shrank from the thought, so I put it aside as a last resort.
“Hey, Sandie! Over here!”
I turned at the sound of the familiar voices. From the dog park on the other side of the street, Liam and Dad waved me over.
I hesitated, the phone in the pocket of my trench an uncomfortable reminder that I never answered Liam’s text. From the way he smiled, though, it didn’t seem like he was holding that against me.
Still feeling a little awkward, I crossed the street.
“Hey, it’s good to see you!” Liam gave me a hug and a swift kiss on the cheek.
“Good?” I cocked my head to the side. “How good?”
He stood back and his eyes crinkled as he grinned. “Really good.”
“He’s been asking about you.” Dad’s eyes darted between us, glinting with humor. “Was starting to get pretty annoying, to be honest.”
Behind them, Marlowe and Julep, Liam’s husky, were involved in a vigorous chase around the lawn, taking advantage of the last few days of sunshine.
“So how’ve you been?” Liam asked. “Your dad’s been telling me you’re involved in another murder investigation. You’re like a magnet for these things, eh?”
I grinned. “They sense I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“Better drop that self-deprecation, kid.” Dad crossed his arms at his chest. “Could be, you just don’t like to see an innocent guy suffer for what he didn’t do.”
He smiled, but his eyes remained serious. I knew him too well not to notice.
“Something about this bothers you,” I said. “What is it?”
“Your dad’s just being a dad,” Liam said. “He’s proud of you, but he doesn’t like seeing you put yourself in danger like that.”
“Then you don’t need to worry,” I assured them. “I’m not in any danger. But it’s a confusing case. I don’t know what to think.”
Dad sighed. “You’ve got to help Josh. You and Will, both. You know the kid is innocent, so trust your instincts. You got them from me, and I’m never wrong about these things. I’m darn sure our boy didn’t do anything bad. It’s not in his nature.”
“I think so too!” My voice rose in agitation. “I hope we’re both right, Dad. You’ve no idea how much.”
Catching myself, I glanced at Liam. He was looking me intently, the corners of his mouth in a tight frown.
I turned away, feeling awkward again, and watched the dogs chase each other around the park. Where did they get all that energy from? Had to be the side effect of a worry-free life. No social obligations, no reasons to feel weird around each other. Just run around the park and sniff tails.
I rubbed the tense muscles in my neck and almost laughed. It was a sure sign of stress when you started envying a dog’s life.
Looking at Liam again, I shrugged. Just because I’d agreed to go on a date with him didn’t mean I was bound to him by some sort of loyalty.
“So, Dad, any suggestions about what I should do to untangle this mess?”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin with his knuckles. “I’d say, the best you can do when you’re feeling stuck is take a step back. Have a look at the picture from another angle. The answer is usually there. If you’re not seeing it, just means you’re not looking properly. Right, Liam?” Before Liam could answer, Dad's eyes darted past us. He winced and dashed over to a flowerbed where a few marigolds still struggled weakly against the changing season.
Marlowe had abandoned his playmate and was busy scraping at the ground with his front paws, unearthing something that looked suspiciously like poo.
“Marlowe, get over here! Leave that alone!”
Liam and I grinned at each other.
“What your dad said, about stepping back from the case? Sounds right to me. If you’re stuck, do something fun to take your mind off it. Maybe go out with a handsome bartender from a certain Italian restaurant. Just a thought.”
I laughed. “It’s a good thought, Liam. I’ll give it some consideration.”
“Promise?” He lowered his chin, giving his gaze added weight. It also made his eyes stand out more.
They were nice eyes, a clear light-blue, with an enviable fringe of eyelashes giving them surprising depth. Why hadn’t I noticed this before?
It wasn’t a hard decision, now that I realized.
“I promise,” I said. “Just give me a few days to sort things out. Deal?”
He nodded, though his smile looked slightly discontented.
“Okay, gorgeous. Just don’t put me off forever. This offer has an expiration date, you know.”
An expiration date? Interesting.
How long was Liam willing to wait before he moved on to other fish? More available, less complicated fish.
A few weeks? A month?
I narrowed my eyes at him. “So, tell me. When does this sale end?”
Liam’s eyebrow quirked and he stuck his hands in his pockets. A slow smile spread across his face as he let the silence stretch out between us. Instead of being uncomfortable, it turned electric. Buzzing, suddenly alive with possibi
lities.
LATER THAT EVENING, Will called from downstairs.
“I’m coming up. Get my Pringles ready.”
I unlocked the door and headed to the kitchen. He wasn’t kidding about the Pringles. I took them out of the cupboard and poured some into a bowl on the table.
The coffee pot set to brew, I took out the remaining half of a mushroom and cheese frittata Felisha made for lunch. Will would be hungry for more than just chips after a full day at the precinct.
As usual, when it was a question of food, Asimov and Hemingway padded into the kitchen. Asimov rubbed against my leg with a purr, while Hemingway sat by his dish and just watched me through narrowed eyes, flicking his tail.
I put my hands on my hips and stared him down. “Come on, now. I already fed you today.”
Useless. They wouldn’t let up until I relented. I cut them each a small piece of the frittata, making sure there was still enough left for me and Will.
Down the hall, the front door opened and Will came in. He stopped by the bathroom to wash his hands, then strode into the kitchen a few moments later and sat at our small table. His hand immediately reached for the bowl with the chips.
“Glad you can follow my instructions in some things at least.”
Talking about my involvement in his murder case again. I gave him a light slap on the back of the head.
“I couldn’t say ‘no’ to a friend. Especially when I believe he’s innocent.”
Will raised an eyebrow at me. “So you’re back to that? You didn’t look so sure this afternoon.”
“Ran into Dad after I left the precinct. We had a chat and he made me see I might’ve been wrong.”
I brought over the coffee pot and put the plate with Will’s slice of frittata in front of him.
Will looked at it approvingly. “Felisha made this?”
“Of course. I couldn’t manage it. Just hoping her cooking skills will rub off on me someday.”
“Where is she anyway?”
“Out with Valeria. They went to see a show in the city.”
She seemed happy when she left home, not obsessively talking about Tyrone for once. I held out a faint hope he would call her while she was out and the whole thing with the other woman would turn out to be a big misunderstanding.
