The Comeback Kiss (37 page)

Finn leaned over the pictures, spreading them out on the table. “
Where
’
d you get these?”

“
Matt Tarpey m
ade a call to County for me so I could get a look at the files,”
Joe said. “
Something has bugged me about that fire since day one, but I could never put my finger on it.”

Finn clapped his hand down on his brother
’
s shoulder. “
Congratulations, bro. It only
took ten years, but I think that
’
s exactly what you just did.”
He leaned over the photos. “
They determined it was the coffeemaker that started the fire?”

Joe nodded. “
Yeah, it had just been recalled. For shorting out and catching on fire.”

“
So someone plan
ted it in Mom
’
s shop,”
Tessa said. “
Could be the same someone who put that insane array of extension cords in Vickie Kemp
’
s office,”
Finn said. “
A fire inspector sees that, they wouldn
’
t necessarily look any deeper. Right?”

Joe looked from Finn to Tessa, t
hen back to Finn. “
You think Vickie
’
s fire is related to Karen
’
s?”

“
That
’
s the prevailing theory, yeah,”
Tessa said.

Joe nodded. “
I think so, too. I think Matt Tarpey has suspicions as well. The case went to the county Cause and Origin team, but I saw some
pictures he
’
d taken himself in his office.”

“
Great,”
Tessa said. “
What are we gonna do about it?”

“
Gee,”
Finn said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “
I don
’
t know. Maybe... and I
’
m just free-associating here... go to the police?”

Tessa closed her eyes an
d sighed.

“
What?”
Joe said, looking back and forth between Finn and Tessa. “
Look, you know I
’
d be the last one to say this, but I think Finn
’
s making sense.”

“
We can
’
t go to the police,”
Tessa said. “
We don
’
t have enough evidence, and Izzy kinda bent a few
laws getting us what we do have. I don
’
t want her in trouble.”

Joe let out an exasperated sigh and looked to Finn, who held up his hands. “
Preachin
’
to the choir, bro.”

“
All right,”
Joe said. “
What are you thinking? You
’
re gonna just go after this guy you
rselves? That
’
s just stupid.”

“
Hey, just a minute there
—”
Finn started, then looked to Tessa. “
Oh, no. Wait. He
’
s right. Imagine that.”

“
I
’
m not saying go after the bad guy ourselves,”
Tessa said. “
I
’
m saying get something more substantial than my memory
of my mother
’
s coffeemaker. If we give the police strong enough evidence, they can take it from there. But right now, if we give them what we
’
ve got, they
’
re only going to ask questions about Izzy, and I can
’
t risk the knowledge of her involvement getting
out to whoever
’
s doing this.”

“
So,”
Finn said, looking at Joe. “
It
’
s quite a quandary. If only we knew someone who had access to privileged information . . .”

He focused on Joe, and counted internally.

One... two... three...

Joe
’
s eyes widened.

Bingo.

“
Wha
t?”
Joe said. “
Me? What do you want me to do?”

“
I don
’
t know,”
Finn said. “
For starters, maybe break into Matt Tarpey
’
s office and get us those pictures of his? Then, on your way home, you could pick up a pizza or something.”

Joe laughed. “
Break in?”
His
eyes connected with Finn
’
s and he stopped laughing. “
You
’
re serious?”

“
As a heart attack.”

Joe looked at Tessa, then back at Finn. “
I
’
m not going to break into his office. Why don
’
t I just ask him?”

“
Because we don
’
t have time to fart around playing
Mother
, May I?"
Finn said.

“
No,”
Joe said firmly, looking at Finn. “
I don
’
t do stuff like that. That
’
s your area. You do it.”

“
I
’
d love to,”
Finn said. “
But I don
’
t know that place near as well as you do. And if you get caught there, it
’
s easier to create a cove
r story.”

“
You two could go together,”
Tessa said.

“
No,”
Joe and Finn said in unison.

“
Fine,”
Tessa said, gathering up the pictures on the table. “
Then I
’
ll do it.”

“
Yeah, right,”
Finn said, as Joe said, “
No way.”

Joe grabbed the pictures from Tessa and tu
cked them in the envelope, then turned to Finn, the displeasure on his face crystal clear. Not great at masking the emotions, that Joe.

“
Tarpey usually leaves the office around six,”
he bit out after a few moments.

Finn grinned at his brother. “
Wear someth
ing black.”
Joe grumbled something rude under his breath and shook his head.

“
If I go to jail,”
he said, shooting a harsh look at Finn, “
I am so going to kick your ass.”

Chapter Eighteen

Izzy put the last of the potted baby roses on the Valentine
’
s disp
lay table in the middle of the gift shop, then wiped her hands on her apron. She glanced at the clock; it was 3:05. Quitting time was usually around three.

Not that there was any big rush to go home. It wasn
’
t like she was going to be included in anything,
anyway. She
’
d woken up that morning to Babs singing and cooking in the kitchen, Tessa and Finn looking tense but pretending nothing was going on, and some weird bird sitting in a cage in the living room. Izzy asked a couple of questions about what was ha
p
pening, and received three variations on the simple but classic, “
Eat your breakfast and get to school.”

Part of her felt better that she
’
d told everyone what she knew. Sorta like a weight had been lifted. But now, she was just a kid again, on the outside.
Nothing to offer, nothing to do but lie low and be protected.

Pffffft. Boring.

She pulled the strings on her apron loose and headed out toward the front. Margie was finishing up with a customer, so Izzy waited until she was done before leaning forward and
tapping the counter with her fingertips to get Margie
’
s attention.

“
I
’
m gonna head on out,”
Izzy said. “
If I don
’
t get home on time, Tessa
’
ll freak.”

“
Oh.”
Margie bit her lip. “
Okay. I actually... I had something...”
She leaned over the counter, looked ar
ound. Izzy looked, too. There was nobody there. February in Vermont on a weekday
—
not a huge crunch time for a nursery. Margie looked back at Izzy, her face crinkled in thought. Izzy stood up straight.

“
What?”

Margie held up her index finger, sped around th
e counter, locked the front door, and flicked the open/closed sign to CLOSED.

“
Margie
—
what?”

Margie held up her finger again, hurried back to Izzy, grabbed her by the hand, and led her through the back door of the greenhouse, locking that behind her as wel
l.

“
Margie,”
Izzy said as Margie led her up the short path that connected the greenhouse with Margie
’
s house. “
What
’
s going on?”

“
You
’
ll see in just a minute,”
Margie said.

Two minutes later, they were headed down the stairs into Margie
’
s basement, and Izz
y was starting to get a little creeped out.

“
Margie, I really think Tessa might start to
—”

Izzy stopped talking as they hit the bottom step. The basement... It was... crazy. Bright orange floors. A weird avocado green minibar in the corner. A big futon. Be
anbag chairs. And...

“
Oh, my God, is that a
disco ball
?”
Izzy said, pointing to the sparkly sphere hanging from the middle of the ceiling.

“
Yes,”
Margie said, “
but that
’
s not what I brought you here to show you. Vick!”

It was then that Izzy noticed a door
slightly ajar at the back of the room, and the sound of running water.

“
Just a minute,”
a voice came from behind the door. There was the sound of spitting, and then the water turned off.

“
I was brushing my teeth. Jesus cannoli, can
’
t a girl brush her
—”

Vic
kie Kemp stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell on Izzy. Izzy felt her mouth drop open in similar surprise.

“
Hey, Vickie,”
Izzy said. “
Have you been in Margie
’
s basement all this time?”

Vickie smiled at her, then turned a significantly less pleased expressi
on on Margie. “
So, this is your plan B?”
Vickie said.

Margie nodded, put one arm around Izzy
’
s shoulders. “
If she
’
s smart enough to get this whole ball rolling, well, then she
’
s smart enough to help us stop it.”

Izzy felt pride swell in her chest.

She was
smart.

They needed her help.

She
was plan B.

Vickie crossed her arms over her stomach, then finally smiled and nodded.

“
All right, fine.”
She looked at Izzy. “
You
’
d better call Tessa first, honey. You
’
re gonna be here awhile.”

***

Tessa sat on her sofa,
watching two stupid Irish brothers bicker like a couple of old church ladies.

“
I told you to be inconspicuous,”
Finn said, motioning at Joe
’
s top-to-bottom black outfit
—
knit cap, coat, turtle-neck, jeans, boots, all dark as pitch.

“
You said wear
black,”
Jo
e said. “
So I wore black.”