That night…
I checked my phone again and sighed. It was fifteen minutes past eight and my grandmother was nowhere to be found. She hadn’t come to the back of the inn to meet me before suit up for our reconnaissance mission, and it wasn’t like I had a key for her armory so I could do the mission on my own.
Not that I would even consider barging into her private armory when she wasn’t around.
Lauren was right.
My grandmother had never been late for anything in her life. She’d once joked that the only thing she’d be late for was her own funeral. She planned on living until the ripe old age of 110.
This was beyond unusual.
I typed out a text, quickly.
We were meant to meet fifteen minutes ago. Is everything OK?
I waited, frowning. The text message came through seconds later.
Sorry, Chaplin. Something came up. I’ll explain later. Big G.
And that was it.
I huffed out a breath into the quiet night and tucked my phone into my pocket. What was I meant to do about this? I couldn’t go ahead and do recon without her. I didn’t have the night vision contact lenses, and I would’ve preferred having Gamma by my side for this.
Grow up. Just go out there and find out the truth.
I had lost my patience waiting around for information, and I was far more impulsive than my grandmother. Besides, I had my date with Detective Goode tomorrow night. If there was ever a time to do something irrational that would get me in trouble, now was it.
I made a snap decision and strode off around the side of the Gossip Inn, the gravel crunching underfoot. I passed by the kitchen and the small greenhouse where Quinton and his gorgeous dog, Charlie, worked and rounded the front of the inn.
My grandmother’s Mini-Cooper was still parked out front, which made things even more interesting.
If she wasn’t at the inn, where was she? The inn was slightly removed from Gossip, so it would be tough to walk anywhere far. Had someone picked her up? Or was she somewhere closeby?
It didn’t matter right this second, and it certainly wouldn’t help me solve the case.
I grabbed Gamma’s car keys from inside then got into the Mini-Cooper and headed off.
The Cruz household was alight, the window upstairs open as it had been the last time I’d stopped by. I had parked the Mini across the street under a tree, and I watched the house idly, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel.
This thing with Gamma bugged me, but I had to focus up. I couldn’t do anything about her absence now except talk to her when I saw her again.
Mia appeared in the upstairs window, briefly, holding her cellphone to her ear and gesturing wildly. She disappeared out of view.
The front door was ajar downstairs, allowing a sliver of light onto the porch from within, and the curtains in the living room were open as well. Mrs. Cruz sat watching TV, occasionally lifting the remote to change the channel.
But everything she’d watched in the last fifteen minutes was a news report.
Interesting that she was so obsessed with the news. She would flick through the channels constantly, almost as if she was waiting for something.
She’s looking for a report about Donny’s death. I’d bet my last slice of shortcake.
It amazed me how open everyone was in Gossip. Of course, they had no reason to mistrust anyone since it was a tiny, safe town. But the fact that these two were so relaxed was intriguing. A man had been killed in their front yard and they left the door open? Not just unlocked, but open? Weird. Or suspicious.
What would Gamma think of this?
I got out of the Mini and went up to the house. I knocked on the front door, loudly. “Hello?”
“Who’s there?” Mrs. Cruz yelped from within. “Who is that?”
“It’s Charlie,” I said. “Charlie Smith. The fixer?”
“Oh right, come on in.”
I entered the house, hoping that this wasn’t a grave mistake on my part. If I was too brash about this, I might get in a lot of trouble.
Mrs. Cruz sat on the couch in the living room. She’d switched off the TV and turned to me, offering a hollow smile. “Hello, Miss Smith,” she said. “I’m glad to see you. Have you come with an update?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have one yet, but I do have a couple of questions for you. I think you might be able to help me figure this out and clear your daughters name.”
“All right. Please, sit down.”
I remained standing. It would make her uncomfortable that I’d refused her hospitality, and it would make her tense and more likely to become emotional when I confronted her.
“Did you tell your daughter about Emmy Scott?” I asked.
Mrs. Cruz stared at me, frozen like a statue.
“Because there was an altercation earlier today.”
“I… well, it wasn’t that I told her so much. Rather, it was that I heard about it and I was talking to my friend on the phone when she overheard me.”
“I see.” So, she happened to be talking about such a sensitive topic in the house? Where Mia could easily overhear? Not buying that. “Tell me, Mrs. Cruz, why did you lie to me about where you were on Monday night?”
This was possibly the most impulsive thing I’d done, and that was saying a lot, but I needed answers, and thought I believed that Mrs. Cruz wanted to help her daughter, I wasn’t convinced of her innocence.
“W-what? I told you the truth.”
“Really. Because I’ve learned that you leave at 10:00 p.m. every Monday night. And that you enjoy using katanas. Is that correct?”
“H-how did you—? Where? I don’t understand.”
Finally, I took a seat, so that our eyes were level. “I’m not trying to frighten you, Mrs. Cruz. I need you to understand that I want to be on your side, but if you really want me to clear your daughter’s name, you’re going to have to tell me the truth.”
Mrs. Cruz gulped audibly. “I didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Why?”
“Because they… it’s not normal.”
“What isn’t?”
“What I do. It’s not normal.”
“What is it that you do every Monday evening, Mrs. Cruz?” I asked.
“I go to… I have a meeting.”
“What kind of meeting?”
“Mayclu,” Mrs. Cruz whispered.
“Mayclu?”
“Anime club!” She covered her face with both hands. “I go to anime club. That’s where I was on Monday night. You can check it out if you don’t believe me. I didn’t touch that man, I just didn’t want anyone to know where I was, OK?’
“So, those things you told me about the night of the murder weren’t true? You didn’t hear a bump?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“But how did you not see the body when you got home from anime club?” I asked.
“Because I only got back the next morning, right when I told you I found the body. I sleep over at a hotel when I go to club because we all dress up, and I don’t want people to see me leaving the house in my costume,” she sighed. “Everything else I told you was the truth, I swear. But I wasn’t here on Monday night. You can check.”
And I would have to.
If what she’d said was true, I could rule Mrs. Cruz out as a suspect entirely.