Buy a Whisker (16 page)

“Eight thirty,” I said. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

He shook his head. “Thanks. I don't mind walking.”

I looked at Charlotte. “I could pick you up,” I said.

She nodded. “If it's not too much trouble. I'm bringing a thermos of hot chocolate and some muffins so we can take a break after a couple of hours.”

“I'm borrowing Glenn McNamara's cube truck,” I said. “That way we should be able to move the big stuff in just one load.”

I'd tried to rent the truck from Glenn, but he wouldn't hear of it. “Just put some gas in it, Sarah,” he'd told me. “And we'll be square.”

“What are you going to do with the SUV?” Mac asked, reaching for the bottle of hand sanitizer we kept by the cash register.

“Leave it in Glenn's parking lot. That way we can back the truck close to the steps at the house,” I said.

“Do you want me to drive it?” he said. “We could put a lot of the small things in the back.”

I nodded. “That's a good idea. Could you drop me at Glenn's? It's faster than if I walk over there.”

“Sure,” he said. “In that case, is eight o'clock too early?”

I shook my head. “Not for me.”

Charlotte came downstairs in her coat and boots.

“I'll see you in the morning,” I said.

She nodded. “I'll be ready.”

Avery pulled on her hat, a purple monkey with ears and tufts of black hair. “Yeah, don't worry, Sarah. I'll make sure to drag Nonna out of bed in time.”

Liz made a face at her. “I'm not drinking anything with kale in it,” she said as the three of them went out the door.

Rose was winding Mr. P.'s scarf around his neck. “Rose, would you two like a ride?” I asked.

“No, thank you, dear,” she said. “It's not that cold. We're going to walk.”

I turned to Mac, who was pulling on his parka. “What about you? Could I drop you somewhere?”

He smiled. “Thanks, but I think I'll walk. Rose is right. It's really not that cold.” He fished his gloves out of his pocket. “I'll see you in the morning.”

I nodded.

Rose and Mr. P. were ready to go, so the three of them set off down the sidewalk together. I locked the door behind them and walked around shutting off the lights. I found Elvis upstairs, sitting on my desk chair. “That's not your chair,” I said.

He blinked at me and then lay down on the seat.

“Still not yours,” I said, reaching for my coat.

He looked down at the fabric seat and then up at me as if to say,
I'm sitting here and you're not.

In the back of my mind all day I'd been trying to figure out what to do about Vince. I understood his impulse to protect Asia. But it wouldn't do her any good if he went to jail for something he didn't do. And if she'd had anything to do with Lily's death, it needed to be dealt with, not hidden, as painful as that would be.

“I'm going down to Sam's,” I said.

I hadn't been certain of what I was going to do until I said the words out loud. Elvis jumped down from my chair and went and stood by the office door. “You can come,” I said. I looked around even though the cat and I were the only ones left in the building. I felt odd about what I was about to admit. “I need you to help me figure out if it was really Vince's daughter who was harassing Lily.”

“Merow,” the cat said. I decided to take that as agreement.

“You have to go in my gym bag,” I said. “I can't walk into The Black Bear carrying a cat.”

Elvis put a paw over his nose and ducked his head.

“It does not smell,” I said. He did this every time I wanted him to get in the bag. “You spend more time in that bag than my running clothes do. If anything, the bag smells like cat.”

He looked at the bag. He looked at me. What he didn't do was move.

I crossed my arms. Elvis started washing the fur on his chest.

“Okay, don't come, then,” I said with an elaborate shrug.

I pulled on my hat and picked up my gloves. Elvis made a squinty face at me. Did he think I was bluffing? I was asking that question about a cat, I realized. Luckily for me, Elvis caved at just that moment. He got up, went over to the empty gym bag sitting on the floor and pawed at the zipper. I bent down, opened the top, and he climbed in.

“Thank you,” I said, giving the top of his head a little scratch.

This wasn't me getting involved in the Angels' investigation, I told myself all the way down to The Black Bear. This was just me looking out for a friend.

The pub was busy. No surprise. It was Saturday night, and I knew Sam had a local band playing later. He came across the room to me when I walked in. “Hi,” he said. “Are you meeting Jess?”

“No,” I said. “I was hoping Vince might be here.”

Sam's expression changed. “He is here. He talked to Michelle Andrews this morning, by the way.”

I sighed softly. “I was hoping he hadn't.”

He looked confused. “I don't understand. I thought you wanted Vince to tell her what he did.”

I sighed. “It's complicated.”

“Most things are,” he said. “What's going on?”

I shifted the gym bag from one shoulder to another, hoping Elvis wouldn't choose now to meow
and give me away. “I just want to talk to him for a minute, Sam. Can you just trust me?”

He nodded slowly. “He's in my office, but Asia's with him, Sarah. Think carefully about what you say.”

I nodded. “I promise.”

He inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen. “You want a bowl of sausage and penne soup?” he asked.

“Ummm, thanks. That sounds good,” I said. I kept one hand on the bag as a warning to Elvis that he needed to stay still and quiet if he wanted any of the tiny sausage meatballs that would be in my soup.

Vince and Asia were on the couch in Sam's office. Vince was playing Sam's twelve-string. Asia was eating something—the Italian penne and sausage soup, my nose told me.

“Hi,” I said.

“I'm feeding Sarah in here because she has her cat with her,” Sam said.

So much for fooling him.

Vince looked up and nodded in my direction but didn't say anything.

Asia smiled. “Hi, Sarah,” she said. “Can I see your cat?” She was wearing a Queen T-shirt and skinny jeans, her short blond hair brushed back off her face.

“Sure,” I said. I took off my coat and tossed it over the back of an armless chair Sam had bought from my shop. Then I set the bag on the floor, opened the top, and Elvis poked his head out and looked around.

“Hello,” Asia said, holding out one hand. Elvis
walked toward her, nose twitching. After sardines and Tasty Tenders, meatballs were one of his favorite foods. He sniffed Asia's fingers and then licked her thumb. She laughed. “Is it all right if I give him a meatball?” she asked.

“Go ahead,” I said. I knew I'd have a better chance of wrestling a bobcat away from one of those meatballs than I would Elvis.

She fished one out of her bowl and held it out. Elvis sniffed it delicately, and then the whole thing went in his mouth. He ate it, licked her fingers and then meowed softly.

“You don't need any more,” I said. He didn't even look at me. I was on ignore.

Asia patted her lap, and to her delight Elvis jumped up, settled himself and sniffed the air.

I laughed. “He's not exactly subtle.”

“He so friendly,” she said, stroking his fur.

“That's because he's a ham bone for attention,” I said.

Vince continued to play Sam's guitar, but I'd seen him dart little looks in my direction from time to time.

Sam came back in then with a bowl of soup for me. I could smell the oregano and tomatoes and see slivers of mozzarella and croutons in the bowl.

I thanked him and settled in the chair. Asia snuck Elvis another meatball when she thought I wasn't looking. I was trying to figure how to start the conversation, let alone steer it to the development, when Asia solved the problem for me.

“Sarah, is it true that you bought the old chandelier from Doran's that used to be right inside the front doors and the people from North by West want to buy it for their project here?”

“It's true,” I said, chasing a crouton around the bowl with my spoon.

“So that means they really are going to build it, right?” She was still stroking Elvis's fur. He was curled up on her lap, front paws tucked up under his body.

“Nothing's decided yet,” Vince said. “I told you that.” I could hear the tension in his voice.

“Your dad's right,” I said. “Things are still up in the air.”

“Lily's . . . dead,” Asia said. “She can't stop everything anymore.”

I nodded. “I know, but Lily felt pretty strongly about not selling the bakery. Whoever she left it to may decide they want to honor her wishes.” I didn't want to get into the concept of eminent domain with a teenager.

The color rose in Asia's cheeks. “But that's not fair,” she said hotly. “Lily's reasons were her own, and she's gone now so . . . so everything's different now.”

“Don't,” Vince warned. He stopped playing and put a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

“Why?” she said, looking from me to her father. “Lily was the reason we couldn't sell Gramp's building. I'm sorry she's dead, but she is, and now there isn't any reason to not fix up the harbor front.”

“Enough,” Vince said. “You're being
disrespectful.” He didn't raise his voice, but something in his tone made Asia drop her head. He wiped the side of his mouth with the edge of his hand and leaned Sam's twelve-string against the couch.

“I get that you're angry,” I said.

Asia glanced at Vince before she spoke. “If Lily didn't like all the plans, why didn't she just move the bakery somewhere else?” she said. “That's what a lot of people were saying. A lot of them were mad.”

Here was my opening. “You think someone was angry enough to kill her?”

“You mean somebody who lives in North Harbor?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “No way. I know people were pissed but not that pissed.”

I watched Elvis. Asia was stroking his fur as she talked. His eyes were half-closed and he was purring. If he thought Asia was lying, I couldn't see any sign of it.

Vince nudged his daughter. “Hey, kiddo, would you go get me a refill?” He held out his cup.

“Sure, Dad,” she said. She set Elvis on the floor and took Vince's mug. “Would you like more coffee, Sarah?” she asked.

“Please.” I handed her my own cup.

“I'll be right back,” she said.

“I know what you're doing,” Vince said as soon as the office door closed behind Asia. Annoyed that he'd been moved from the warmth of Asia's lap, Elvis stalked over to me and head butted my leg. I reached down and lifted him onto my lap, where he kneaded my legs with his paws before stretching out.

“I know what you're doing, too,” I said. “It wasn't you wearing that wig, was it?”

He looked away and then his gaze came back to me. “I already told you that I was the one who pulled those stunts on Lily. I told Detective Andrews the same thing.” The muscles along his jawline were tight, as though he was grinding his teeth together.

“You made yourself a suspect, Vince,” I said.

“I didn't have anything to do with Lily's death.”

“I know. And neither did Asia.”

“So we're done?” Vince finally said after what seemed like a long silence.

I nodded. It wouldn't have made sense to anyone else—it didn't really make sense to me—but somehow Elvis knew when people were lying, and Asia wasn't. The worst she'd done was play some childish pranks on Lily, which made sense. She wasn't that far from a child herself.

The office door opened and Asia came back with our coffee. She handed me my mug. “Thanks,” I said.

She smiled. “You're welcome.” Then she hesitated and took a deep breath. “How did you know it was me?”

“Asia!” Vince said, his voice edged with warning.

She turned around and held out his coffee. “Give it up, Dad,” she said. “I just heard you and Sarah talking.”

“What? You were listening at the door?” He took the mug and got to his feet.

“So
that
you get pissed about?” she said, rolling her
eyes in that way that only an exasperated teenager could do. She turned back to me. “How'd you know?”

“Body shape,” I said. “And I figured out the hair was a wig.”

She nodded and sat on the corner of Sam's desk. “It was kind of lame of me to try to look like Mr. West. I didn't want to get him in trouble . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“You just didn't want to get yourself in trouble, either,” I finished.

Her cheeks got red and she nodded. “Pretty much. I didn't figure anyone would think anything about him being around.”

Vince put a hand on her shoulder. “Asia, stop talking, please,” he said.

She turned and looked up at him. “What's the point, Dad? Sarah knows what I did. There's no point in lying about it.”

“There's no point in going on about it, either,” he said.

“Just for the record, I didn't kill her,” Asia said.

Vince swore softly and raked his hand back through his hair.

“Well, I didn't,” she said, giving him that aggrieved-teenager look again.

“I didn't think you did,” I said. “But thank you for telling me.”

Asia shrugged. “She caught me.” She hung her head, shame-faced.

“She caught you?” Vince said. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Asia gave him an incredulous look. “Right, Dad. There's a good idea. I should have said, ‘By the way, Daddy, I've been breaking into Lily's Bakery to harass her, and the night she got killed she caught me.'”

Vince blew out a breath.

“What did she do?” I asked.

Asia looked away for a moment.

I waited.

“She yelled at me,” Asia said. “She said she should call the police on me.”

“But she didn't.”

She shook her head. “She asked me why I'd done all those things to her, and I told her about Gramps. She said she was sorry, but her reasons for not selling were just as important. I asked her what they were, but she said she couldn't tell me. She said she had family to look after, too.” She shrugged. “I asked her why she couldn't just move the bakery someplace else, but she said it was complicated. I said that's what adults always say when they want things their way and they don't want to explain why. Then I left.”

“What time was that?” I asked.

“I dunno,” she said. “Sometime after midnight.”

“Did you see anyone else?”

She twisted her mouth to one side. “No. Lily was in the kitchen at the back, feeding her starter.”

“Feeding her what?” I asked.

“Her starter. For sourdough bread. You have to feed it regularly or it won't work right.” She smiled. “My gram used to make that kind of bread, and
she'd let me help her feed the starter. It's basically fermented flour and water. You can keep it going forever if you do it right.” She shrugged sadly. “I guess it's like Lily now. Dead.”

“I guess it is,” I said.

I picked up Elvis and set him in my gym bag. Then I stood up. “As far as I'm concerned, this conversation stays between us,” I said. I was looking at Asia, but I was really talking to Vince. “You know what you did was really stupid.”

She nodded.

“I'll walk you out,” Vince said.

I nodded.

He looked at Asia. “Don't bother listening at the door,” he said.

Her face flooded with color again.

“You satisfied?” he asked once we were back in the hallway.

“I meant what I said in there,” I said.

“So you're not going to tell Detective Andrews I lied?”

I shook my head. “I'm not even going to tell Sam you lied, but I'm betting he'll figure it out. As far as I'm concerned, this is done.”

I turned and started for the front door.

“Sarah,” Vince called after me.

I turned.

“Thank you,” he said. I nodded and started for the door again.

Sam was behind the bar. He walked over to me. “Did you get what you needed?” he asked.

I nodded. “I did.” I stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for supper.”

He smiled. “Anytime.” Then his expression changed. “I don't know if I need to say this or not, but I'm going to. Whatever else Vince did or didn't do, he didn't kill Lily. The night she died, we were all at Eric's after I closed up. He had a new guitar. We played half the night.”

“I know Vince wouldn't hurt anyone,” I said. “But thanks for telling me. He's lucky to have you for a friend.”