Софи Келли - A Night's Tail

He nodded as he moved to the refrigerator for the milk. “The guys I told you about. They came for a quick trip to take a look at the curriculum Eddie’s been working on for his hockey school.”

Eddie, nicknamed Crazy Eddie Sweeney in his playing days, had been working on an idea for a year-round hockey development school for a long time, but now that he had Everett Henderson involved it seemed a lot closer to reality.

“I hope the school works out for him,” I said.

“I think it will,” Marcus said as he reached for a mug. He poured the milk and stuck the cup in the microwave. Then he turned around. “Are you going to tell me what you found out?”

“I didn’t find out anything concrete.” Micah came in from the hall with what looked like a small scrap of paper stuck to one ear. She came back to the table, I patted my lap and she jumped up. I took the bit of paper off her ear and she shook her head vigorously.

“First of all, how would Zach Redmond have even known where Lewis Wallace was staying?” Marcus asked. “And if he had somehow gotten the information, how could he have known that Wallace was wandering around because he couldn’t sleep?”

“He could have made an educated guess about the hotel,” I said. “It is the nicest one in town. Maybe he just went there to talk to the man. The rest could have been a crime of opportunity.”

“In other words, you still think he could be involved?”

I nodded. “I do.” I explained Zach’s comment about karma. Before Marcus could say anything I held up the hand that wasn’t stroking Micah’s fur. “Yes, I know that’s about as substantial as dandelion fluff.”

He put a heaping spoonful of hot chocolate mix into the cup of hot milk and stirred. “I’m not sure that proves anything, Kathleen. Lots of people feel strongly about animals being mistreated, especially service animals. Rebecca, for example. Roma. Derek . You .”

“Rebecca is one of the most kindhearted people I know. She puts together shelters for the feral cats. She’s on the board of directors of the animal rescue. As far as Roma goes, she’s a vet. She was taking care of the cats out at Wisteria Hill long before she bought the place from Everett. Derek’s dad is a veteran and most important he was sorry about what happened. Zach isn’t even sorry that Wallace is dead.”

Marcus set the cup in front of me. He leaned down to kiss me. “Point taken,” he said.

Micah made an annoyed sound and jumped down to the floor again.

“No more talking about the case for tonight,” I said. I knew there wasn’t anything else I could do at the moment and going over what little I did have wasn’t getting me anywhere.

“Deal,” Marcus said, sitting down in the chair next to me. “Tell me about the rest of your day.”

I took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was good: dark chocolate, not too sweet and there were two fat marshmallows on top. “Let me see. We discovered licorice in the book drop, and before you ask, I don’t have a clue why. It took fourteen e-mails but Patricia and I have settled on what cookies will be served at the opening of the quilt festival. There’s a large truck tire in the middle of the gazebo. And somebody returned a book on minimalism with a list of all the things on their Amazon wish list stuck inside as a bookmark.”

“What kind of licorice?”

“What kind of licorice? I gave you irony, a mystery and cookies and you want to know what kind of licorice?”

He shrugged. “I like licorice.”

We talked about our respective days for a few minutes until I finished my hot chocolate. Marcus put my empty mug in the sink and pulled me to my feet. “Do you want a shower or a bath?”

“Bath,” I said at once. I loved his big, deep, claw-footed bathtub.

Over his shoulder Micah looked at me, seemed to shimmer for a moment and then disappeared.

“Go run the water, then,” he said. “I’ll lock up out here.” He looked around for the cat. “Where did she go?”

“Maybe she’s in the living room,” I said. Was my face getting red?

The moment he was out of the room the little ginger tabby reappeared. I knew what the cat was trying to tell me.

“She’s right here hiding under the table,” I called.

Marcus came back into the room shaking his head. “I can’t believe I looked right past her. Maybe I need glasses.”

The cat continued to watch me and I felt that knot of guilt again. As soon as this case is settled, I told myself. I had a feeling all three cats were going to hold me to that.

Marcus made breakfast the next morning—pancakes with applesauce, thick-cut bacon and lots of coffee. I sat at the table in the sweatshirt and jeans I kept at his place and thought how easily I could get used to mornings like this.

Before he drove me home, Marcus handed me my own take-out coffee cup filled with coffee. “You’re spoiling me,” I said.

He nodded. “All part of my plan.”

After he dropped me off he was going to stop at the station for a minute. I didn’t ask why. We agreed he’d be back after lunch and we’d go to the market.

Even though there was still snow on the ground and a cold crispness to the air, the market was busy. “I need to talk to Thorsten,” Marcus said.

“Go ahead,” I said. “I’m going to walk around for a bit. I’ll find you later.” I headed over to the Sweet Things kiosk. I’d had a couple of texts from Ethan letting me know things were going well. Maybe some celebratory cupcakes would be a good thing, I decided. And a good excuse to talk to Georgia.

“Hi, Kathleen,” she said. “What can I tempt you with?”

“I was thinking a half-dozen double chocolate,” I said, “but now that I’m here how about four of those, four mocha fudge and four lemon.”

“Excellent choices.” She began to box up the cupcakes. “I hope I didn’t get your brother in trouble over those muffins he bought,” she said, ducking her head.

“You didn’t.”

She gave me a sideways glance. “I think he has a bit of a crush on Maggie.”

I laughed. “I think you’re right.”

Georgia’s expression turned serious. “This will probably sound odd, but I’m kind of glad I had that . . . encounter with Lewis Wallace at Fern’s.”

It was the last thing I would have expected to hear. Wallace had harassed her all the way from the parking lot and acted offended that she wasn’t interested in his advances.

“Why?” I said. Georgia set the first box of cupcakes on the counter and reached for another container.

She shrugged. “I don’t know if this will make sense, but after everything that happened with my in-laws I’ve been looking over my shoulder for what feels like years wondering if I’d be able to deal with them, with anyone coming after Emmy and me again. What I learned from that . . . that creep—I’m sorry, but it’s the only word to describe him—is that I can take care of myself and Emmy and I have good friends if I need backup.” Her cheeks were pink but she held her head high.

I leaned across the counter and gave her a hug. “Anytime you need backup just yell,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Larry Taylor hovering around and it occurred to me that maybe Ethan wasn’t the only person with a crush.

I paid Georgia, set the two boxes of cupcakes in my canvas shopping bag and resumed wandering around. I made my way around two teachers from the middle school in an animated discussion about onion sets and discovered Burtis Chapman and Lita Clarke, Everett’s assistant, at the stall belonging to The Jam Lady. Lita was insisting that Burtis didn’t need two jars of marmalade, and he was buying those and some plum jam as well in a show of stubbornness.