Софи Райан - The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle

I was hungry, thinking more about Sam’s chili over a bowl of rice than I was paying attention to where I was walking, which was probably why I turned the corner and walked smack into Nick Elliot.

Chapter 12

Both of my hands landed on Nick’s broad chest. “Are you okay?” he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I realized I still had my hands on his chest. I dropped them and took a step backward, almost tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. I reached out, just out of reflex, grabbing his arm.

“I’ve got you,” Nick said, tightening his grip on my shoulder.

I caught my balance, giving him a sheepish smile. I let go of his arm, but I couldn’t help noticing the bulge of muscle under the sleeve of his jacket.

“Thinking deep thoughts?” Nick asked, dropping his hand from my shoulder.

“Only if you consider daydreaming about a bowl of Sam’s chili to be thinking deep thoughts,” I said, brushing a stray strand of hair off my cheek.

He frowned. “So, you haven’t had supper yet?”

I shook my head. “I went for a run. You know, something that you couldn’t do because you were so busy.”

“Oh yes, I was busy,” he said solemnly. “Very, very busy.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He reminded me of a teenage Nick.

“I haven’t eaten, either,” he said with an easy smile. “Have supper with me. We said we were going to have dinner and catch up. I’m assuming you weren’t going to just eat and run.” He waggled his eyebrows at me when he said run .

“You are so, so not funny,” I said shaking my head. “So, I’m going to take pity on you and have supper with you.”

We fell into step and walked maybe ten feet before I stopped. Nick got a couple of steps ahead of me before he noticed I wasn’t beside him.

He turned to look at me. “Sarah, is something wrong?”

“I couldn’t talk them out of it.”

It took a second for what I meant to register. He looked skyward for a second, shaking his head. Then he looked at me. “What happened to your powers of persuasion?”

“Rose’s logic,” I said.

“Which is?”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and shifted from one foot to the other. “That their combined life experience makes them better at investigating Arthur Fenety’s murder than anyone else.”

Nick put both hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together. “They’ve lost their minds,” he said. “All three of them—my mother, Rose and even Liz. They have some kind of age-related cognitive impairment.”

“No, they don’t,” I said. “They’re trying to help a friend. They haven’t gone senile.”

“My mother and her friends seem to think they’re some kind of geriatric version of Nancy Drew.” He exhaled loudly. “How exactly is their life experience going to help them investigate a murder? That’s a job for the police.”

I didn’t like the way he was selling his mother and Rose and Liz short. “Of course,” I said. “Because the police have done such a good job so far.” I tried to keep my voice even and nonjudgmental, but a little snark still snuck in.

His mouth moved as though he were trying out the feel of what he wanted to say before he said it. “They’ve somehow convinced you that this is a good idea,” he finally said. “Are you out . . . ?” He had the good sense not to finish the sentence.

I waited, arms folded, to see what he’d say next.

He let out a breath and studied the stars overhead for a moment. “I should just stop talking, shouldn’t I?” he said, when his gaze finally dropped to my face.

“I’m thinking it would probably be a good idea,” I said. My momentary anger was gone, like a match that had been struck and immediately blown out. I didn’t want Charlotte and the others investigating Arthur Fenety’s murder any more than Nick did.

“Still want to have supper with me?” he asked.

“As long as we talk about anything except Maddie’s case.”

He nodded. “Deal.”

We fell back in step again.

“Nice weather we’ve been having lately,” Nick said after a too-long awkward silence.

I stopped walking again. Nick stopped as well. “Sarah, at the rate you’re walking we’re going to be having breakfast instead of dinner.”

“Do you really want to spend the next hour talking about the weather?” I asked.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well, I don’t want to argue with you.”

“So what do you suggest?” I said, smiling so he’d know I didn’t want to argue with him, either.

He laughed, pulling a hand down over his chin. “I don’t know.”

I laughed, too, because the whole situation was kind of funny when you thought about it. Or maybe I was just tired and hungry. “Look, Nick,” I said, “There isn’t anything either one of us can do about your mom and Rose and Liz. They’ve decided they’re going to investigate and it doesn’t matter what either one of us says. I’ll do what I can to keep them out of trouble. And you try not to huff and puff when you talk to your mother.”

“I don’t huff and puff,” he said, a little indignantly, it seemed to me, until I saw a glint of humor in his eyes. “Maybe I growl a little.”

I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. “So, do we have a deal?” I asked.

He nodded. “We have a deal.”

We started walking again. “What exactly are they planning to do?” Nick asked after a moment.

“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “Not for sure. They think Fenety’s death has to be connected to all those women he scammed. Which makes sense to me.”

Nick turned to look at me, narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Arthur Fenety was poisoned. That takes planning. It’s personal. It’s hard to poison someone without thinking it through.”

“You’re right,” he said, stepping behind me for a moment to let some people pass us. “A death like Fenety’s—just one person being poisoned—he was targeted. It was very personal. But Fenety’s victims are spread all over New England.”

“Nick, you don’t think Maddie killed him, do you?”

This time it was Nick who stopped walking. “Good Lord, no,” he said. “I’ve known Maddie my whole life. She couldn’t hurt anyone or anything.” He raked a hand through his hair. “When I was five she paid me a nickel a bug to pick aphids off of her rosebushes. I don’t see her poisoning a person when she wouldn’t poison a bug.”

We were in front of The Black Bear and Nick held the door open for me. “What I meant was that a lot of Fenety’s victims that we know about are in other states. Maybe there’s at least one we don’t know about who’s a lot closer.”

“Maybe,” I agreed as we stepped inside. I was remembering being at the pub with Jess and seeing one of the women who had been married to Arthur Fenety. Maybe his other victims weren’t so far away after all.

Sam was standing by the bar when Nick and I walked in. He turned around as if somehow he’d known we were there and smiled as he walked across the room to us.

“Nick Elliot! How the heck are you?” Sam said. They shook hands and grinned at each other.

Nick exhaled loudly and looked around. “I haven’t been here in years,” he exclaimed.

“I’m glad you decided to change that,” Sam said.

“Please tell me you still have live music,” Nick said.

Sam gestured at the corner stage.

“The good stuff?” Nick asked raising an eyebrow.

Sam held out his hands. “I like that old-time rock and roll.”

Nick laughed. “You know,” he said. “It’s good to be home.”

“Did you bring a guitar home with you?” Sam asked. “Tomorrow’s Thursday.”