Page 31 of Murder on the Page

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a decongestant used to relieve red itchy eyes, readily available over the counter. It can come in nasal spray and eye drop forms.” Then he gravely added, “I’m warning you if that information gets out, I’ll know you’re the source. We haven’t looped in the media.”

On the drive to the pub, I gazed out the window, drinking in the waning sun, the wisps of clouds striating the sky, and the distant skyline of Asheville. I had enjoyed living in and near Charlotte, but I was so glad I’d moved home. I loved Bramblewood. The Blue Ridge Mountains. The beauty. The art scene. The local flavor. Our town was large enough to be designated a city but small enough for me to know just about everyone I ran into.

We entered the Brewery and found two swivel chairs at the bar. Katrina was tending, but her typically flashy smile was missing in action. By now, I imagined she’d heard about Marigold’s death and was in mourning, like the rest of us. However, the moment she spotted Zach, she perked up.

“Hello, handsome,” she said in typically sassy fashion. She wiped down the counter in front of us as we sat, tossed the towel in the sink behind the bar, and set down two cocktail napkins. “Long time no see.”

“I’ve been working a few cases,” Zach said.

So the Brewery was one of his hangouts, too. We obviously came in on different nights of the week. Otherwise, I would have noticed him.

“Allie, I’m sorry about Marigold,” Katrina said. “I heard you were there. At the shop. You found her. That had to be awful. Is that why you two are hanging out?” She gazed between us,as if trying to figure out if we were on a date. “Are you swapping stories? Can you share any details?”

“No,” Zach and I said at the same time.

Katrina threw up both hands. “Okay. No prob. I care, you know. Marigold was good people. I was never a reader before going to Feast for the Eyes. I’d like to see justice served.”

“Wouldn’t we all,” I muttered.

Zach ordered a Spruce Goose for each of us. I wasn’t hungry, but he requested a hot soft pretzel with spicy mustard, saying he’d share if my appetite returned.

After setting our drinks down, Katrina said, “I have to leave in thirty. This is my one early shift a week. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll ask you to settle up.”

I reached for my purse.

Zach said, “I’ve got this.”

He paid the thirty-dollar charge with a couple of twenties and told her to keep the change. Big tipper, I noted. She thanked him with a wink.

Both of us swung around on our chairs and nursed our beers while watching a Charlotte Hornets basketball game on one of the TV screens. There wasn’t any sound. Closed captions were turned on.

“Do you like basketball?” Zach asked.

“I do. I was a point guard in high school.” A player in that position was expected to run a team’s offense by controlling the ball and making sure it got to the right teammate.

“Ha! I would have thought you’d devoted all your time to reading.”

I smiled. “A girl likes to run. And a bossy girl likes to be in charge.”

He chuckled. “Did your dad play?”

I nearly did a spit take with my beer. “My father? He has never worked up a sweat. He is a dollars-and-cents guy.” All his life, Jamie Catt had relished working with numbers. Aftergraduating college with a master’s in economics, he became a venture capitalist and ranked right up there with the best. That was how he and Fern had earned enough money to become world travelers. “No, a guy friend in junior high taught me moves.”

“I’ll bet he did.”

I punched his arm.

Katrina brought the pretzel with three choices of mustard and told us Wallis would be tending bar when she left.

Wallis had a winsome smile but was reserved in a dainty kind of way, reminding me of Jane Bennet inPride and Prejudice.Jane was modest and sweet-tempered and quick to defend someone when Elizabeth suspected them of having shortcomings. Even Wallis’s delicate cameo necklace made me think of jewelry Jane might wear.

“Need anything?” she asked as she swapped out our cocktail napkins for new ones.

“I’ll take another Spruce Goose,” Zach said.

“One’s my limit,” I answered.

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