Page 56 of Merry Murder Season
“Not that I know about.” Greg glanced over at Beth.
She shook her head. “I’m not talking. And you can’t make me, copper.”
After that, Greg left to go to the station. He often worked seven days a week, especially when there was an active investigation. I felt blessed that he had been able to take Thanksgiving off completely. Of course, that had wound up being an issue on its own with Matty’s robbery.
Beth and I were discussing what cookies to make when a knock on the door interrupted our conversation. I went to the door and Andrew stood there, a package under his arm. “Hey, sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but Jamal said you were looking for this. They made a copy for you. They have such amazing toys there at the library.”
I took the cylinder from him. Was this a copy of the original blueprints? “Thanks, Andrew. Are you workingthis morning?”
“Yes, I have a shift with Evie. She claims she’s going to put us on a shift alone next week. I hope she’s kidding.” Andrew waved and skipped down the stairs. “See you later.”
I closed the door and locked it. The kitchen table was covered with baking supplies. My office desk had partially completed Christmas presents on it and the coffee table was too small. “I’m running upstairs for a minute,” I called out to Beth.
I went into my bedroom and closed the door. I didn’t need Emma jumping in the middle of this and tearing the blueprints. I knew it was just a copy, but I wanted to see if my intuition was right.
As I scanned the blueprint, I compared it to the pictures I’d taken the other day when I was in the building with Chris. It didn’t take long, but as soon as I saw it, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before.
A built-in door in a bookcase. It was cracked open. I wonder if Chip had tried to hide in there when the killer came.
As I studied the picture, I spotted something else. A patch under the doorway. A jacket patch. Usually, these were all sewn together so tightly that they wouldn’t come off. But this club had changed a lot in the last few years. Stopping activities, ending allegiances, and even removing patches. They’d been taken off to indicate the loyalty had also been broken. But when you remove one, it affects the others close to the separated patch. And the killer had lost two in the last few days. One here at the murder scene.And one in front of a jewelry store where he’d picked up the so-called stolen merchandise to take to Chip to hold. At least thatwas my theory.
Had Chip threatened to renege on their deal? Or had the killer decided that he didn’t need help to fence the jewelry and wanted it all back? Or had Matty tried to double-cross him? Was this the favor she’d needed from Josh? To help her get her property from Chip while she threw steel tips at him to get him to talk?
I needed to talk to Josh. And then I’d go see Greg. Right now, all I had was suspicions and questions. I had a feeling that Josh could paint a little more between the lines. At least enough for Greg to bring in the killer forprobable cause.
Besides, I needed to pick up Beth’s Christmas present before she left tomorrow. That way, she’d have something to do on the plane ride home. For an excuse to go into town, it was pretty good.
Chapter 22
After getting the first batch of cookies ready to bake, I told Beth I needed to run to the bookstore (truth) to check in with Evie about next week’s schedule (lie.) Okay, maybe not really a lie, but a misdirection. The reason I was going to the bookstore was a surprise. So it was a Christmas lie, which didn’t count. I hoped Santa used the same logic pattern. I just didn’t mention the other stops. I’d be in South Cove, not wandering the countryside looking for killers.
I tried not to play back the conversation where Greg said he liked having Beth here because it kept me out of trouble. I decided to take Emma, giving me one more excuse for leaving. The dogneeded a walk.
As we passed by Lille’s, I saw that Dom and his friends, the gang, were there, as well as Uncle Harrold. I could see Dom and Uncle Harrold through the windows. The motorcycles lined up against the back brick wall where the parking lot ended. I’d pop my head inside, but I had Emma, and Lille hated me. SoI kept walking.
Dom and Uncle Harrold. That was a strange combination.
If Uncle Harrold wasn’t honest as the day was long, I’d question it. But he didn’t even lie to Aunt Jackie if an outfit wasn’t quite her style. He’d tell her. I never questioned my aunt’s clothes or motives. I didn’t want to be on her bad side. We were out at a restaurant having dinner one night when Harrold told her if she didn’t want the truth, she shouldn’t ask him. I had about choked on a glass of wine when he said that. My aunt handed me a napkin and just said, “Wipe your face, dear. And close your mouth. You’re going toattract flies.”
Her way of saying, “Stay out of it.”
What had Dom and Harrold been talking about solate at night?
That was a question for another day. I kept walking and we passed by Matty’s still-closed shop. I wondered if Greg had talked to her yet.I wouldn’t want to be on Greg’s bad side, and even though she’d been attacked or fallen in her shop, he wouldn’t takeit easy on her.
I groaned as I realized Greg was probably in Bakerstown and not at the station. He’d ask why I didn’t wait and give the blueprints to him tonight at dinner. Emma nudged me and I started walking again. The dog needed a walk and I had something to drop off and pick up.
When we got to the station, Greg was out like I’d expected. Esmeralda took the blueprints and pictures, gave Emma a treat, and went back to answering the phone. Sunday morning dispatch must be busy.
I saw Chris’s car at Chip’s Bar. It was still early enough that she could have a car on the street, but time was ticking, so I left her alone and headed tothe bookstore.
Emma and I came into the front and Andrew hurried over. “Can you havea dog in here?”
“Sometimes. My dog, always. Can you get a bag that Evie left for me in the back?” I asked as Andrew focused on Emma.
“I’ve got it.” Evie came out of the back with a bright red gift bag. “Hey, I wanted to tell you we’re doing a trial Monday opening tomorrow—ten to three. If we get enough shoppers, I’ve got commitments from staff to work the shift until Christmas, when we’ll go back to being closed. Thoughts? I’m overstepping, right? Do you hate me?”
“Why would I hate you?” I took the bag and looked around. The bookstore was busy and several people sat in the dining room, drinking coffee and reading. It was the image of a perfect Sunday morning. At least in my head. “I’ve got to go. See you on Tuesday.”
