Paws and Effect (14 page)

“A little treat isn't going to hurt them.” Owen lifted his head, looked at me and gave a sharp meow as if to say, “What he said.”

“No, but Roma might if she finds out how often you give them a little treat. She swings a mean broom.”

Marcus shook his head at me. “I want a rematch. I still say Roma cheated.”

He was referring to a broom hockey match to
benefit the animal shelter that both he and Roma had played in during last year's Winterfest. Marcus had captained one team and Brady Chapman the other. Roma—who was on Brady's team—had swept in the winning goal and managed to trip Marcus with the other end of her broom in the last seconds of the game.

“Roma did not cheat,” I said, getting up to take my dishes to the sink. “Your legs are too long for broom hockey.”

He reached out and snagged me with one arm, pulling me down onto his lap. “My legs are too long?” he said. “Really? And what else is wrong with me?”

I frowned and pretended to think about it. “Your shoulders are too broad,” I said, putting both hands on them. “Your hair is too thick.” I reached up with one hand and pulled my fingers through his dark waves. “And your lips are too kissy.”

He leaned in and kissed me. “Umm, I can see that you're suffering,” he said.

A loud meow came from the floor at our feet. “You don't need any more treats,” I said.

Owen—because it had been him voicing his opinion—meowed again. “Let me rephrase. You're not
getting
any more treats.” I kissed Marcus one more time. “You neither. I need to get ready for work.” I stood up and set my dishes on the counter. “Are you going to help Eddie this morning?” I asked.

Marcus got to his feet as well. “I'm going to go see my father. Maybe I can convince him to go home.”

“Maybe,” I said. I didn't think it was likely. “In his defense I think he really does want to help.”

Marcus pulled a hand back through his hair. “He can't seem to understand that I don't always want that help. It's hard to get out of the man's shadow, because he casts such a big
one.”

A
bout five minutes after Marcus left Abigail called. “I found a great glow-in-the-dark skeleton I thought we could hang in the gazebo for Spookarama. Do you want me to bring it with me?”

“Please,” I said. We talked for a minute about how we were going to handle handing out treats during the Halloween party and then I said good-bye and headed upstairs to change.

The first thing I did when I got to the library was call Lita. I had no idea what time she got to work, but no matter how early I called the office she was always in.

“Good morning, Kathleen,” she said. “I'm glad you called. I heard Marcus was invited to the police station to answer some questions. How is he?”

“He's fine,” I said. “But, uh, that's why I called.” I paused and took a deep breath. “I need a favor and it's for him in a way.”

“Everett instructed me over a week ago to make sure anything Marcus needs he gets, which I would have done anyway.” I could feel her smile coming through the phone. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Ernie Kingsley was at a meeting the day Danielle McAllister was killed. I need to know everything about it. How many people were there? Could Ernie have gotten there late? Did he leave early? Who saw him?”

“In other words you want to know how much of an alibi his alibi really is?”

I turned slowly from side to side in my chair. “I'm not saying he killed her, not deliberately. I just want to be one hundred percent certain he's not involved.”

“Give me a couple of hours,” Lita said. “I'll call you back. I know Ernie's assistant, Nora. He's here today to give his pitch to the business coalition, so she'll have a minute to talk.”

I hung up and leaned back in the chair. There was a squeak somewhere in the back mechanism. I sat for a minute, making it squeak like the floor in a horror-movie haunted house while I organized my thoughts.

Whatever Marcus said to his father—which he was probably saying right now—I didn't think the elder Gordon was going to leave town. But I wasn't sure if I could trust him, or if I should. I was already having reservations about Hope. I needed to know more about Elliot Gordon, at least as a lawyer if not a person. I knew I couldn't call Marcus's sister, Hannah. He didn't want her to know what had happened, not yet.

I wondered if Brady knew anything about Elliot.
I'd noticed that the older man had seemed to recognize the younger's name when Marcus had called him at the restaurant. I'd already asked for one favor. Maybe I'd get lucky with a second.

The phone rang several times before Maggie answered. “Hi, Mags,” I said.

“Hi,” she said. “Are you at home or the library?”

“Library.”

“Good. How about coming for pizza tonight? I feel like cooking.”

Marcus and I hadn't made any plans because normally I was at tai chi on Thursday night, but class had been canceled again because now Oren was painting the stairwell up to the studio. As far as I knew Marcus would be at Eddie's.

“I'd like that,” I said, shifting my weight sideways in the chair so the squeak would stop. “Any chance Brady will be there?”

“Do you want him to be there?” she asked. Her voice sounded a little hollow.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “Your voice sounds odd.”

“Downward Dog. So what about Brady?”

“Marcus's father showed up last night. I just wondered . . . I just wondered if Brady knows anything about him, what he's like as an attorney.”

“Somehow I think he does,” Maggie said. “I'll ask him if he can join us.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“Just yourself.”

*   *   *

Lita called me back about eleven thirty. “Phone, Kathleen,” Susan said, holding up two fingers.

I nodded to show I'd heard her and pointed over my head as I headed for the stairs so she'd know I'd take the call in my office.

“I'm sorry this took so long,” Lita said. “I had to wait for one person to call me back.”

“I'm impressed you managed to find out anything this fast,” I said, sitting on a corner of my desk.

“Well what I found out was that there were fifty-two people at that meeting in Red Wing. It was at the Anderson Center. They didn't finish until after eight thirty. I talked to five different people. They all saw Ernie.”

So Kingsley couldn't have had anything to do with Dani's death. According to Hope the medical examiner estimated she'd been killed between five and eight.

“Thanks, Lita,” I said. “It was a long shot anyway.”

“I wasn't finished,” she said.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck. “Okay,” I said slowly.

“Every one of those five people remember seeing Ernie because he was late getting to the meeting. He seemed a little jumpy and disheveled.”

“Did anyone happen to notice what time he walked in?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact two different people did. It
was ten after six,” Lita said, a self-satisfied edge to her voice. “Does that help?”

Ten after six. Given the approximate distance from the lake to Red Wing, even if he'd stuck to back roads, Ernie Kingsley would have had enough time to kill Dani and make his meeting at just about the time he walked in.

My heart started to race. “Yes, it does,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

“Any time,” Lita said. I could tell from her voice that she was smiling on the other end of the phone. “If you need anything else, anything—”

“I'll call you,” I finished.

I hung up the phone. So now what? I couldn't just walk up to the developer and ask him if he killed Dani. What had Lita said earlier?
“He's here today to give his pitch to the business coalition.”
I leaned back and pulled a stack of papers on the side of my desk a little closer. What I was looking for was a press release from the town. It was third in the pile, an invitation to a presentation by developer Ernie Kingsley on the proposed Long Lake development. The pitch was aimed at the downtown business community. All stakeholders were urged to attend. When she'd read the word “stakeholders” Ruby had threatened to show up in a black cape with a hawthorn stake and a garlic necklace.

It occurred to me that maybe I could show up as well in my role as head librarian. I could talk to Kingsley and at least see how he responded when I
brought up Dani's death. I decided not to call Hope or Elliot. I didn't want the developer to know what I suspected and I didn't think either one of them could be subtle.

I went back downstairs to talk to Susan. “Do you mind if I take the early lunch?” I asked. “I thought I'd head over to the presentation about the development. If it really is going to bring more money to town I'd like to get a little of it for the library.”

“Sounds good to me,” Susan said.

*   *   *

I found a parking spot on the street just one block up from the community center. Thorsten was at the door.

“Hi, Kathleen,” he said. “You here for the dog and pony show?”

I smiled. “I've heard a lot of rumors. I thought it would be a good idea to get the facts.”

He gave a snort of derision. “Don't think you're in the right place for that.”

I walked around smiling and saying hello while I looked for Ernie Kingsley. There were a lot more people in the small room than I'd expected and it was hard to see over everyone's heads. I stood just to the side of the door to the hallway and looked around. I caught sight of Ruby near the middle of the room, no cape, stake or fragrant necklace in sight. And then I caught a glimpse of Ernie Kingsley just coming in the door on the other side of the room. I took two steps in his direction and I was grabbed from behind. A
dark-suited arm wrapped around me and pulled me into the hall.

I jammed my elbow back hard, making very satisfying contact with the person's diaphragm. He—I knew by the strength in the arm it was a man who had grabbed me—let go. I whirled around, mouth open to scream, and discovered Simon Janes half doubled over, trying to get his breath. “What did you do that for?” he managed to gasp out.

I stared at him wide-eyed and more than a little aggravated. “What did I do that for?” I gestured at the door with one hand. “What did you do
that
for?”

Simon straightened up. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. “What exactly were you going to do once you were face-to-face with Ernie?” he asked.

“None of your business,” I retorted.

“I can pick you up and have you in the parking lot in less than a minute,” Simon said, straightening one sleeve of his suit jacket.

I made a fist, folded my arm and held up my elbow. “I can hit a lot harder than I just did. And I can scream loud enough to be heard in the back row of the Stratton Theatre—from here.”

“He won't tell you anything,” Simon said flatly.

“I wasn't going to walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, did you kill a woman out at Long Lake?'”

He almost smiled. “I didn't think you were that stupid. But if he gets even a hint of what you suspect he'll surround himself with a flank of lawyers and
you'll lose your chance to find out whether Ernie was involved or not.”

I felt something sour at the back of my throat. He was right. “I can't just do nothing, Simon,” I said, making a helpless gesture at the door with one hand.

“Twenty-four hours.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Give me twenty-four hours. If you'll wait that long I'll get you a meeting with him if you still want it.”

“How do I know you won't just go warn him about what I suspect?”

“Oh c'mon, Kathleen.” He held up both hands in exasperation. “I know you don't know me very well but I think you know me better than that.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust him. “What do you mean by you'll get me a meeting if I ‘still want it'?”

Nothing changed in his expression. “If by tomorrow at this time you still feel you need to talk to Kingsley I will make sure you get a meeting with him. You have my word.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “So I just trust you.” I didn't bother trying not to sound skeptical.

He smiled then. Mia had exactly the same smile. “Yeah. You just trust me.”

If I tried to go back into the meeting Simon was perfectly capable of causing a scene—and would. I had nothing to lose by waiting for a day. And something, some instinct I couldn't explain, told me I could trust Simon.

“All right,” I said. “Twenty-four hours.” I squinted at him. “And if you ever grab me like that again I won't hold anything back.”

He grinned and one eyebrow went up. “I'll keep that in mind.”

*   *   *

“C'mon in,” Maggie called when I knocked on her apartment door that evening. I'd stopped at the house to change and had left two very disgruntled cats at home.

The aroma of sausage and oregano met me on the stairs. Maggie was at the stove. And Roma was sitting on the sofa.

“Hi,” I said. She got to her feet and wrapped me in a hug. “I didn't know I was going to get to see you, too.”

“I can't say no to Maggie's pizza,” Roma said. “And I wanted to make sure that you were okay. I'm sorry I was gone when all this was going on.”

“I'm all right,” I said. “There wasn't anything you could have done and truthfully, some days I was glad to just spend some time with Lucy and the other cats.”

“What about Marcus? Is he okay?” I could see the concern on her face.

“He is. In fact, he made breakfast for me.”

Roma and Maggie exchanged a look and grinned. “Ooooo,” they exclaimed like a couple of fourteen-year-olds.

“Don't start,” I warned.

Roma immediately clasped her hands primly in
front of herself and tried not to look Maggie in the eye. Maggie pressed her lips together and attempted to be serious but it didn't exactly work. I could see the laughter in her green eyes.

It was so good to spend time with them. Somehow, just being in the same room with them made everything I'd been worried about seem a little less, well, worrisome.

“What can I do, Mags?” I asked. There was flour in her hair and on her hands and a dab of sauce on her chin. And as usual when she made pizza there wasn't a bare bit of counter space in the kitchen.

“Sit and talk to Roma,” Maggie said, turning back to the cast-iron skillet on the stove.

“We can clean up later,” Roma said, quietly settling onto one corner of the couch.

“I heard you.” Maggie frowned down at the contents of the pan.

“We know.” Roma smiled. It was good to see her smile. I knew how much she missed Eddie. I'd tried very hard to support her decision even though I wished she'd change her mind and say yes to his proposal, but after close to five months I was afraid that might never happen.

I sat next to her on the sofa. “How are you?” I asked. “I know Eddie's moved into his new place.”

She nodded. “I told him to go back to Minneapolis, to go home.” The way she felt about him was written in every line on her face, just the same way it was with him. “He said as long as I was here this was home.”

“You haven't changed your mind.” I didn't phrase it as a question because I already knew the answer.

Roma shook her head. “Nothing's changed.” She moved to shift the pillow behind her. I noticed that once again she was wearing the antique rose gold locket Eddie had bought her. Maybe there was hope for the two of them after all.

“Syd's coming in a couple of weeks,” Roma said. “She has three days off school and she's going to spend a night with me.”

“I'm glad you still get to see her.”

“That's her mom as much as it is Eddie.” She gave me a half smile. “She's really trying to get us back together. Syd, I mean. She told me this breakup could scar her for life and affect her ability to have a healthy relationship when she's an adult.”