Софи Келли - Faux Paw

“I think so.”

“Well . . . good luck,” she said.

I ended the call and looked down at two furry faces. “We’re right,” I said. “Now all we have to do is prove it.”

I turned my computer back on and began scrolling through the archives for the Lifestyle section of the Minneapolis Star-Tribune . Now that I knew what I was looking for, it wasn’t that hard to find.

After about an hour I stood up and stretched. Owen had wandered off, but Hercules was sitting by my chair. “I know who did it, how they did it and why they did it,” I told him, scooping him up into my arms. I swung around in a circle, holding the cat to my chest, and then did a little victory dance.

Hercules gave me a loopy eyes-crossed look. “We’re going to catch some bad guys!” I said.

Catching bad guys wasn’t that simple, it turned out. I’d talked to Marcus three times by the time it was time for tai chi, and I was tired and frustrated. My form was wonky and I wanted to stop in the middle and go home, but I made myself keep going.

Ruby gave me a hug after class. “You’re just having an off night,” she said.

She didn’t know the half of it, I thought.

Maggie walked over to us. “The St. James?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded. “Yes.”

The hotel bar was quiet, not surprising for a Tuesday night. Gavin Solomon and Marshall Holmes were at a table in the center of the room. Gavin looked up when we walked in. “Hi, Kathleen,” he said, getting to his feet. “I was just going over the insurance company’s plan for returning the artwork to the museum with Marshall. Can you join us? I can bring you up to date.”

Marshall smiled up at us. “Please,” he said, gesturing at the table.

“Thank you,” I said. I looked at Gavin. “Could we do that in the morning? It’s been long day.”

“Sure,” he said, frowning slightly. “I’ll call you.”

“Good to see you,” I said to Marshall.

“Good to see both of you,” he replied.

Maggie had already taken a seat at a nearby table. We each ordered a glass of red wine. Maggie propped both elbows on the table. “Okay, what’s going on?” she said.

I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand. “You know how Abigail and Susan have been helping out keeping the different groups running in your studio?” I asked.

Maggie nodded. “They’ve been great. It wouldn’t have worked without them.”

“Everett said the board would pay them for that time if I could get the paperwork in before the board meeting tomorrow.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Maggie asked.

“It would be if I could get into my office to get the actual paperwork.” I sighed loudly.

“So, get Marcus to let you in.”

The waiter came back with our wine. Maggie smiled at him. He was so captivated with her smile he tripped over his own feet on the way back to the bar.

“He won’t,” I said playing with the little coaster my wineglass had come with.

Maggie held up her glass, studied its contents and then took a sip. “Why not?” she asked.

“My office is sealed until they finish searching the building.”

“So get the paperwork from Lita.”

It was hard to keep my feelings from showing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gavin put away his cell phone, stand up and shake hands with Marshall Holmes. “I can’t. She’s out of town on some kind of family emergency.”

“So you’ll get the money approved at the next board meeting,” Maggie said with a shrug.

“Both Abigail and Susan could use the money now. The library has been closed,” I said. “They aren’t getting paid.” I folded one arm up over my head. “Why does Marcus have to be so unreasonable?”

Maggie raised an eyebrow at me. “C’mon, Kath. It’s a police investigation. I thought you wanted them to catch whoever killed Margo.”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before I answered her. “I do. But how is me getting a couple of forms from my office going to interfere with that? It’s not like he hasn’t let me into the building before this. I thought now that we’re together things were going to be different, but Marcus is just sliding back into his same old rigid ways.”

Maggie set her glass down. “That’s not fair. He’s just doing his job. And it’s not like you to expect some kind of special favors.”

“I’m not asking for ‘special favors,’” I said. I could feel the tightness in my jaw and hear it in my voice. “I’m just trying to make sure Susan and Abigail get paid for doing their jobs—actually, for doing more than their jobs.” There was a knot of anxiety gnawing at my stomach. “It’s not like you to take someone else’s side, Mags.”

Maggie sat up very straight in her chair. “I’m not taking any side, Kathleen,” she said. “I think this whole business at the library has been really difficult and I think you may have lost your perspective.” She looked at me for a long moment. Then she pushed her chair back. “I think it would be better if I left.”

I looked down at the table. “I think you’re right,” I said. Maggie walked away. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. When I looked up, Marshall Holmes was standing by the table.

“Kathleen, are you all right?” he asked. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding.”

“You’re not,” I said. “I, uh, it’s been a difficult day.”

Marshall smiled. “I’ve had a few of those.” He gestured at Maggie’s empty chair. “May I sit down?”

“Please,” I said. I picked up my glass and set it back down again. “You had to have heard me arguing with Maggie. I’m sorry about that.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” he said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. “The theft of the Weston drawing and Margo Walsh’s death have put a lot of people on edge, myself included. I know it’s easy to get overwhelmed.”

I sighed softly. “I’m beginning to think the police are never going to solve this.”

“I thought they were searching the library again,” Marshall said.

He was wearing jeans and a jade green sweater over a pale blue shirt with the sleeves pushed back. I thought about how many picture books I could have bought for Reading Buddies with the money he’d probably paid for that sweater.

“I don’t think they’re going to find anything,” I said. Then I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Marshall. That was petty of me. It’s just that I need to get into my office and I can’t.”

He tipped his head to one side and raised his eyebrows slightly. “Can’t you persuade your detective friend to bend the rules just a little for you?”

I shook my head, wondering if I looked embarrassed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he can be a little”—I hesitated, looking for the right word—“rigid. He’s not the type to bend the rules. It’s come between us before.”

Marshall leaned toward me. “I understand a lot better than you’d think, Kathleen,” he said. “My father was that kind of person. I loved him but he was a very black-and-white man. I can’t tell you how many times we butted heads.” Then he laughed. “Well, I could, but I won’t because you’d wonder why I kept doing it.”

I took a drink of my wine and got to my feet. “I think I should just go home,” I said.

Marshall walked outside with me.

“Thank you for the conversation,” I said. “Good night.” I turned to head down the sidewalk and Marshall fell into step beside me.

“I’ll walk you to the library,” he said. He held up a hand before I could say anything. “I know you said you’re going home, but I know you’re not. And I’m not trying to imply you’re helpless in any way, but it is getting dark.”