Page 48 of Too Old for This
“I was actually going to call you,” I say. “Or stop by the station.”
“You were?”
“Is there somewhere we can talk? If you have the time.”
“I have time.”
We go to a diner a few blocks away. The waitress has burgundy hair, and she wears pom-pom anklets with her thick-soled shoes. She calls Tula by his first name, Rey, and he orders “the usual.” It turns out to be an omelet with peppers and cheese. I order the same. In the middle of the afternoon, we both eat breakfast.
“Kelsie came by my house,” I say. “By herself.”
He nods. Shrugs. “She told me. It’s pretty standard for us to check back in and see if witnesses have remembered anything new. I was already working on a new case.”
I take a bite of dry toast and watch him, looking for a sign that he’s lying. Tula takes a sip of coffee, says nothing further.
“She asked if I remembered anything else about Plum.”
More nodding.
“She also asked about Cole. Actually, I think she asked more about him than she did about Plum.” I pause, almost like I forgot my train of thought. “Since Cole had contactedme, she wanted to know more details about what he said. And I really tried to remember everything I could.”
“Mrs.Jones—”
“Lottie. At this point, I hope we’re on a first-name basis,” I say. “And now that I’m thinking about my little chat with your partner, I distinctly remember her asking about when Cole came to my house. She wanted to know which rooms he was in, if he used the bathroom…Basically, everywhere he went.”
A crease appears on Tula’s forehead. “What else?”
“Well, that was the first time Kelsie came to my house. Alone, I mean. Now, the second time—”
“There was a second time?”
“It was about a week and a half ago? I’m not sure. I’d have to double-check the dates. But she came back to ask more questions about Cole.”
I’d rather not do this. My preference would be to move past these recent events and get on with my life. Instead, I’m making Tula question his now-dead partner.
Honestly, Kelsie has only herself to blame. Or she would if she was still alive.
“I asked her if there was a break in the case,” I say. “Or if she had any more information about Plum, but she said she couldn’t talk about it. One of those…moving investigations?”
“Active investigations.”
“That’s it.”
I sip my coffee.
Tula stops eating and looks out the window, as if things in his head are being rearranged.
The burgundy-haired waitress comes by, fills our coffee cups, and leaves the check on the table.
“Can you show me where Kelsie was in your house?” Tula asks.
Thank God he finally asked. Otherwise, I’d have to bring it up again without sounding like I was leading him around on a leash.
CHAPTER 27
Self-confidence is the worst double-edged sword. Too little confidence, and you fail. Too much, and you fail in a different way. Either way, it gets me into trouble every time.
Most recently, by thinking I could pull this off. If I hadn’t screwed up with the phone, my life wouldn’t feel like it’s swirling down the toilet. An appropriate analogy, since Tula and I are standing in my downstairs bathroom.
