Софи Райан - The Fast Аnd Тhe Furriest

Nick made coffee for us, cooked his spaghetti and warmed up some sauce and even got his mother and me each a slice of her apple coffee cake. We continued to talk about the case.

“You know about the fraud investigation into du Mer.” Again, a statement of fact.

“Mac doesn’t think Leila knew about the substitution of the cheap ingredients,” I said. I didn’t see the harm in sharing that small piece of information.

“I think he’s probably right,” Nick said, managing to spear two tiny meatballs with his fork.

I gestured at him with my coffee cup. “No, no, no. This is where you’re supposed to disagree.”

He threw up his hands in mock dismay. “Crap! I forgot my lines.”

“I like it when the two of you get along,” Charlotte said as she got up to refill her cup.

Once her back was turned I leaned over and socked Nick on the arm.

“Ow!” he mouthed.

“What have you done with the real Nick?” I wrinkled my nose at him.

He smiled. “It’s not a big deal. I reviewed the details of Leila McKenzie’s accident and for what it’s worth I don’t think Mac had anything to do with it.”

“It’s worth a lot,” I said quietly. I noticed he didn’t say anything about believing that Mac wasn’t hiding anything. “What about Stevie’s partner?”

Nick got to his feet, picking up his own plate and collecting my empty cake plate as well.

“Davis Abbott? He was in Canada.”

I stood up as well and took Charlotte’s plate out of her hand. “We have this,” I said. “Sit.”

“I can do a few dishes,” she protested.

“So can Nick and I,” I said. “Gram always said it builds character.”

Charlotte smiled then. “Well, you two certainly are characters.”

She sat back down and I looked over at Elvis, who was watching Nick just in case there were any meatballs that had been missed. The cat looked in my direction. “Keep an eye on Charlotte,” I said. To my surprise he came right across the floor and launched himself onto her lap, where he quickly settled, his green eyes locked on her face.

I reached over to stroke his fur. “Good job,” I said.

Nick was already running water in the sink for the pots. “Wanna do them all this way?” he asked.

I nodded. “Davis Abbott wasn’t in Nova Scotia,” I told him as I scraped the plates. “At least not when Erin Fellowes was killed.”

Nick frowned, suds forming around his wrists. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” I said. I told him what Mr. P. had discovered.

“Will you get him to call me in the morning, please?”

“I will,” I said. I grabbed a couple of forks and a spoon from the table and dropped them into the sink. “Do you know anything about Natalie Welland?”

“Leila’s sister?” Nick asked. He hunched a shoulder.

I nodded. He was hedging.

He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, just exhaled softly.

I waited, drying a bowl and setting it beside me on the clean countertop.

Finally Nick spoke. “All I can say is that she hasn’t been that forthcoming.” And that’s all he did say.

Nick and I finished the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Charlotte said, wrapping me in a hug. “When I invited you for supper I didn’t intend for you to have to work for it.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. “You make the best meatballs in the world.” At my feet Elvis gave an enthusiastic meow and licked his whiskers just in case there was any doubt about his love for meatballs.

“Rose and I will teach you how to make them,” Charlotte said. “They’re easy.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” I said with a smile. I turned to Nick. “It was good to see you.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he offered. “I’ll be right back,” he said to his mother.

My SUV was in Charlotte’s driveway. Nick had parked at the curb. I fished my keys out, unlocked the driver’s door and set Elvis on the seat. Then I turned to face Nick, who was standing just a bit closer than personal boundary space would dictate.

“Are you coming to the jam next week?” I asked. “You missed half the fun last night.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” I said. “C’mon. We have fun and I don’t want to be on the outs with you over a case, even this case.”

“Are you sure Jess won’t pour a bowl of salsa over my head?”

“I’m making no promises. But I am pretty sure the acid in the tomatoes would be good for your scalp.” I grinned at him.

“I’ll chance it, then,” he said. He hesitated and then gave me a hug.

I slid in behind the wheel and started the car. Nick raised a hand in good-bye as I backed out of the driveway. We headed down the street and Elvis looked back over his shoulder, making a muttering sound low in his throat.

“I know,” I said. “He drives me crazy, too.”

Chapter 18

Mr. P., his messenger bag slung across his body, was waiting in the hallway when Elvis and I came out of the apartment in the morning. “Could I trouble you for a drive to the shop, Sarah?” he asked.

“It’s no trouble and you’re welcome to come with us anytime,” I said. Elvis meowed loudly, seconding my words.

“I talked to Nick last night,” I said as we waited for Rose.

“Did you learn anything?” he asked.

“Possibly.” I told him what Nick had said about Natalie. “Do you think the police could somehow know something we don’t?”

“Detective Andrews has likely spoken to the Boston police. I don’t have any contacts there at the moment, but I’ll see what I can find out from this end. All aboveboard, of course.”

“Could you call Nick, please?” I said. I explained Nick’s surprise when I’d told him Davis Abbott hadn’t been in Nova Scotia. “Maybe he’ll tell you something he wouldn’t share with me,” I added.

Mr. P. smiled. “I suspect if Nicolas were going to be susceptible to anyone’s wiles it would be yours and not mine.”

I felt my cheeks get warm.

Rose came out then, carrying a small, red and white cooler. “Just a few snacks for the road,” she said.

• • •

We left for the salt works about eight thirty. The drive along the coast was beautiful. The sky was an endless arc of blue overhead and the sun sparkled on the ocean water.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Liz had asked as I backed out of her driveway.

“I figured you’d tell me where to go,” I said innocently.

“Sometimes you’re really funny,” she said. “This isn’t one of those times.” One of her perfectly manicured nails flicked the back of my head.

I laughed. “Yes, I know where I’m going. I checked the map before we left, Charlotte gave me directions and I have GPS on my phone.” I knew the last comment would get a rise out of her.

“We are not using that disembodied robot voice. Do I need to remind you about the time we almost ended up in the ditch thanks to that thing?”

“You most decidedly do not!” Rose said emphatically. “We’ve all heard that story plenty of times, thank you very much.”

I raised a hand as though I were back in grade school.

“What is it, dear?” Rose asked. “Do you need a washroom break?”

“No, I don’t need a washroom break,” I said. “I need a change of conversation. Tell me a little more about this salt works.”

“It’s quite simple, really,” Rose said, shifting into teacher mode. “You know that they collect water from the ocean.”

“Even in the wintertime?” I asked.

“No,” Liz commented from the backseat.

“The sun isn’t strong enough for the evaporation process during the winter. The salt houses are in operation from about the middle of March through October. They don’t use any anticaking chemicals and they don’t remove any of the trace minerals.”