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“Okay. Let’s at least take a look,” he said.

We crossed the hall and went into my office. “See what I mean?” I said.

He nodded slowly. “And if we angled your desk just a little, that would give you a bit more space for the love seat.”

“Let’s try it.”

We set the chair in the hall, and then Mac adjusted my desk a little to the left so it was on a slight angle. The credenza was moved down and the love seat forward, and suddenly we had easy access to the storage space in the eaves.

“Perfect,” I said with a grin.

Then we heard the sound of something falling downstairs.

Mac and I exchanged a look and he went out in the hallway to listen. After a moment there was another sound I couldn’t quite identify.

“Stay here,” Mac said in a low voice. “And call 911.”

He was on his way down the stairs before I could tell him not to do anything stupidly heroic. I pulled out my cell and was about to call the police when I remembered Rose’s bag. She’d been in such a hurry to leave with Mr. P., she’d left it behind on the desk chair in the Angels’ “office.” It was probably her we’d heard. She’d borrowed my gram’s spare keys from Charlotte to get into the apartment. I knew there was an extra key to this building on that ring. Rose had probably borrowed the keys again.

I remembered how I’d launched myself into the apartment bedroom and almost knocked her head off. I didn’t want Mac to tackle Rose and maybe break her hip. And I certainly didn’t want her to be arrested for B and E. I hurried down the stairs, moving quickly and quietly just in case it wasn’t Rose moving around downstairs. Mac was just disappearing around the door to the storeroom.

“Hey!” he called out sharply. That was followed by the sound of a scuffle. I bolted across the shop, thinking this whole thing was stupid. We should have just called 911 and stayed put.

Mac had the intruder on the floor, one knee in the small of the person’s back. He looked up at me. “Sarah, what are you doing down here? Did you call 911?”

“I thought it might be Rose,” I said. I could see that it wasn’t and I felt my knees begin to shake. The intruder was taller and male, based on his build. I reached over and flipped on the overhead light.

And discovered it was Vince Kennedy lying on the storeroom floor.

Chapter 15

My mouth hung open for a moment before I could speak. “Let him up,” I finally managed to say to Mac. “I know him.”

Mac got to his feet and pulled Vince up with him by one arm.

Vince was wearing jeans and a black hoodie. He was disheveled, his hair standing on end and the sweatshirt twisted to one side.

“What the hell are you doing, Vince?” I said, the fury rising in my chest leaving a sour taste in the back of my throat.

I was right in front of him, but he wouldn’t look at me. “Last night you were thanking me for Asia’s guitar, and tonight you’re breaking in to my store.”

“I’m sorry,” Vince said, and finally he did look at me. “Things have been a little tight.”

“So you decided it would be a good idea to rob a friend?” Mac asked, his voice tight with anger.

“I knew you had at least a couple of guitars here that were worth some money,” Vince said. He couldn’t meet my eyes for very long. His gaze kept sliding away.

“Why didn’t you ask someone for help?” I pulled a hand down over the back of my head. I was angry and troubled all at the same time, the emotions churning in my stomach. “I would have helped you. Sam would have helped you. Why would you do something like this?”

Vince swallowed hard and didn’t say anything.

“What do you want to do?” Mac asked. He was still holding Vince by the neck of his hoodie. “I know what gets my vote.”

Part of me wanted to let Vince walk out the door. Another part wanted to call the police and let Vince spend the night in jail. I was furious. I was sad. I felt . . . betrayed. Then something sticking out of the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie caught my eye. It looked like . . . hair?

I reached over and snatched the dark wig—because that’s what it was—from his pocket. It was one of the wigs that went with the KISS costumes I’d gotten from Sam. My hand was shaking as I held it up. I took a step closer to Vince. “I hear these things bring big money on the street.”

The color drained from his face.

“Cut the crap, Vince,” I said, my voice suddenly raw-edged with angry intensity. “Why did you really break in here?”

I could think of only one reason, and it made my stomach sick.

He didn’t answer.

I looked away. “You can tell me or you can tell the police,” I said softly.

“I came to get that . . . wig.”

I focused on him again. “Why?”

“Because when the old guy Peterson was having lunch at the pub the other day, I heard him say he’d found security footage of the person who’d been hassling Lily Carter before she died.” His eyes met mine and stayed there this time. “I was afraid if you saw the video and then took a close look at the wig, you’d realize it was me.”

Mac muttered an oath and let go of Vince’s arm.

“The mouse?” I said, staring at him. It couldn’t be true. “The mixed-up salt and sugar? The eggs thrown at the front window? Everything? That was you?”

Vince nodded.

“Why?”

“Because Lily wouldn’t sell.” His voice rose. His emotions were right at the surface. “She just kept using the same lame excuse that the development would be bad for the downtown. Do you know what it costs to keep my old man in that nursing home?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. I knew he wasn’t expecting me to. “Thousands every month. His savings are just about gone, and his pension just isn’t enough. I’ve looked at other places, and believe me, you wouldn’t put a dog in them.” His right hand was flexing and then squeezing into a fist at his side. Flexing and squeezing, flexing and squeezing. “The money Jon West was offering would have meant my father could spend the rest of his life living with a little dignity. And he damn well deserves that.”

“I can’t believe you would do something like that to Lily,” I said hoarsely, shaking my head.

“Yeah, well, I’m desperate, Sarah,” he said, and his mouth twisted to one side. “I hope you never know what that feels like.”

I got right in his face. “You don’t have a monopoly on bad things happening to you, Vince,” I said. “Don’t move. Not an inch. You try to leave and you won’t have to worry about Mac handing you your head because I’ll personally lay you out like a welcome mat at the front door.”

I gestured to Mac. We took a few steps away from Vince.

“What do you want to do?” he said.

I couldn’t read his feelings in his face.

“We can call the police.”

“I don’t know,” I said. Sam had been like a father to me ever since my biological father died, which in a weird way made Vince feel like family. I looked away for a moment and then met Mac’s gaze again. I still had the wig in one hand, and I fingered the dark hair. “I’m having a really hard time believing that Vince was the one pulling those stupid tricks on Lily.”

Mac rubbed his left shoulder with his other hand. “I don’t know the guy, so I’m not making excuses for him, but when people are desperate, they do things they would never do in other circumstances.”

“I’m going to call Sam,” I said. Maybe it wasn’t exactly logical, but I thought possibly Sam could talk some sense into Vince.

Mac’s expression didn’t change. “All right.”

“Do you think I’m wrong?” I asked as I pulled out my phone.

“Not my place to judge, Sarah,” he said.