Софи Келли - A Tale Оf Two Kitties

He nodded. “They tried my office and two other ones on this floor.” He smiled at me over his daughter’s head. “Thanks for picking her up.”

“Anytime,” I said. “I got to see Harrison, so it was good for me, too.”

“Police are almost done and then we can head home,” Simon said to Mia. He pointed at a wooden bench near the doors. “Go sit and we’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes.”

She cocked her head to one side and studied her father. “You just want to talk to Kathleen without me listening.”

Simon swiped a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Yes, I do, so please go sit over there so I can do that and she can go home.”

Mia grinned at her dad. “Okay.” She went over to the bench and opened her backpack.

“I don’t know what I would have done without your help,” Simon said.

“I’m happy to do anything for Mia,” I said. And I was, although I suspected picking up Mia was a bit of a contrivance on Simon’s part. I could see that he was interested in me and this was a way for the two of us to spend time together, even if just for a few minutes. Simon knew Marcus and I were together but he wasn’t the type of man to just walk away without at least trying to get what he wanted.

Down the hallway behind us Marcus came out of Simon’s office. He stopped when he noticed me standing with Simon. I raised a hand in hello and for a moment I thought he was going to join us, but he just nodded and moved to speak to another police officer in the hall.

“Kathleen, can I ask you something?” Simon said.

“Sure,” I said, pulling my attention back from Marcus.

“The police still consider me a suspect, don’t they?”

I looked away from him for a moment, studying the exposed brick wall to my right. “At this point everyone is a suspect.”

“So yes.”

“They’re still gathering evidence,” I said, finally shifting my gaze back to him.

“There’s something I need to—want to—tell you,” he said. His expression was serious and one hand was playing with the band of his watch. “My father and I had an argument a couple of days before he was killed. We had more than one, actually.”

“Okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure why Simon was telling me this. I already knew he and Leo had had a relationship that was contentious at times and Marcus had told me about their disagreement at the hotel bar.

“This was a very public argument in the parking lot over at Fern’s.” He shifted restlessly from one foot to the other.

Fern’s was Fern’s Diner, home of Meatloaf Tuesday and also where Harrison Taylor’s lady friend, Peggy Sue, worked.

“Families have arguments,” I said. “Even the police know that.”

The lines in his face seemed to deepen. “One of the last things my father said to me was, ‘You’re killing me.’”

It took me a moment to find the right words to say what I wanted to say. “Simon, I only met your father once, but he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would want you to get stuck on something he said when he was angry.”

He studied me for a long moment, as though he thought he could find some answers on my face, and then his expression softened. “Mia’s right,” he said.

I was lost. “About what?”

“About you being nice.”

I shook my head. “I’m starting to dislike the word,” I said, giving him a wry smile.

Simon shook his head. “You shouldn’t. We act like being nice is somehow a bad thing. It’s not. The world needs more nice people.”

“Well, this so-called nice person thinks that the police aren’t going to arrest you because you had an argument with your father in the parking lot of Fern’s.”

I glanced over at Mia. She was bent over her notebook, holding her cell phone with one hand.

“It isn’t any of my business, but what were you arguing about?” I asked. “I know it’s been difficult having your uncle here.”

Simon nodded. “Dad and I did have words over that more than once, but it’s not what the fight at Fern’s was about.”

I waited. Simon’s mouth moved but it took longer for words to come. Finally he said, “You have to have heard about my mother. Mayville Heights is a small town, after all.”

“I’ve heard,” I said.

“We never talked about my mother—my choice, not his.” His fingers played with his watchband again. “I knew that Dad was angry and hurt for a long time, but I really thought he’d put that part of his life to rest a long time ago.” He looked past me for a moment and then shook his head. “He hadn’t.” He focused on me once more. “A few weeks ago I found out that he had hired a private investigator to look into the car accident that killed my mother.”

Meredith Janes’s death. Was it possible it was connected to what happened to Leo?

“Did you ask him why?” I said.

“I asked him why, all right. Why he was doing it, why he hadn’t told me, why he thought there was any point to digging up such a painful part of both our pasts after all this time. Just before he hired that investigator Mia was doing a school project, a family tree. I know they talked about . . . my mother. Dad started reading some of the old news coverage. He said he’d never been satisfied with the investigation.”

He sighed. “Kathleen, a few years ago I went to Chicago, to the police station. I talked to the detective who investigated my mother’s car accident. I looked at the reports. There was no big conspiracy. The road was wet, she was speeding—which according to everyone she knew was something she’d done since she got her driver’s license. She went off the road and over an embankment. She died. End of story.” He shook his head. “You’re the only other person aside from Dad I’ve told this to, and I waited a long time before I told him. I hate that my mother still has so much power in my life.”

Mia looked up and smiled over at us then dropped her head over her phone again.

“He wanted me to be part of this ridiculous investigation. This fool’s errand. I said no. He tried to change my mind. That’s what we were fighting about.” He shrugged.

“Simon, you don’t actually think your mother’s accident and what happened to your father are connected, do you?” I said. I didn’t say that I did.

“I don’t want to, but . . .”

“But what?”

The lines around his mouth tightened again. “He told me he’d hired an investigator. The day before the funeral I went all through his apartment. Victor had asked Everett if he could stay there for a few days. He said it made him feel closer to Dad.” He sighed softly. “I didn’t want Victor to know what Dad had been doing. I found the contact information for that investigator and I called him. He said my father told him that he’d found something out about my mother, something that was key.”

“But he didn’t say what that was.”

Simon shook his head. “I hired him, Kathleen, the detective. He says there may have been a witness, a woman who was walking her dog the night my mother’s car went off the road. If there’s any chance what happened to my father is connected to my mother’s death, I have to know.”

“Have you considered talking to your uncle?”

He shook his head. “Not a chance in hell. My father may have been giving Victor a second chance but that didn’t mean he would have ever confided in him.”

I put a hand on his arm. “Simon, tell the police,” I said.

A smile pulled at his mouth but there was no warmth in it. “I already did. I don’t think they’re taking me very seriously.”

I raked a hand back through my hair. I cared about Mia and I cared about Simon. “How can I help?”

Simon glanced down the hallway. There was no sign of Marcus. “I don’t want to interfere in your life,” he said.