21

“Good morning,” I said as I filled the dishes on the floor. “Sleep well?”

Both Wheels and Sheamus looked up at me like I was crazy before they both dug in.

“Guess so.”

I threw together a quick breakfast and ate it alone. Ben and Amelia were up at first light, which was becoming a trend with both of them these days. I’d hoped to talk to Ben a bit more about what he was going to do about the house—and quite possibly, Jack—but it could wait until he wasn’t so busy.

Manny had come in after I’d gone to bed and didn’t say a word. I vaguely remember waking up briefly when he’d lain down, but I’d drifted off almost immediately afterward. He was still out, sprawled across the bed like he’d desperately needed sleep, and while I was curious to know how his pet emergency had gone, like Ben’s house, it was something that could wait.

The clink of the spoon in my bowl of cereal sounded loud in the nearly quiet house. The only other sounds were coming from the kitchen, where the cats were eating, side by side. Sheamus sniffled as he ate, but his sneezing had calmed down considerably from when I’d first picked him up. It would never go away completely, but that was all right. In some ways, his little sneezes were cute.

I finished eating and deposited my bowl into the sink about the same time the cats finished up their meals. Sheamus sauntered from the room as soon as he was done and plopped down on the couch to wash his face. Wheels made her way over to me and wound around my feet the best she could with her wheels catching my ankles every few seconds.

“Give Daddy lots of love when he gets up,” I told her, kneeling so I could run a hand down her back. I checked to make sure her harness wasn’t rubbing her skin raw, and then checked her wheels. Everything was fine, as it always was. “I’m going to be gone when he gets up, so I need you to take care of him, okay?”

Wheels purred and rammed her head into my shin. I took that for a yes.

I scribbled Manny a note to let him know where I was going, grabbed my keys and purse, and then was out the door.

The day was overcast, but it didn’t feel like it was going to rain. Joanne was sitting on her front steps, watching the neighborhood with a mug of coffee in hand. She started to rise when she saw me, but changed her mind and sat back down. I hoped that meant she didn’t have anything to complain about, which would be a change. I raised a hand to her, and she returned the gesture slowly, as if uncertain of my intent.

“Just being neighborly,” I said under my breath as I climbed into my van.

I was going to make the best of the day, no matter what. Between the murder, Courtney, Chico, Jack, and finding Sheamus a new home, I’d been near tearing my hair out. I was done overstressing. Courtney and Chico had been dealt with. Jack was, well, Jack. Sheamus would find his furever home soon enough—and it’s not like I was anxious to be rid of him, anyway.

And the murder? Admittedly, the investigation wasn’t going as smoothly as it could be, but it wasn’t like I was a detective or anything. I was merely doing my part as a concerned citizen—and a mom.

I found myself whistling as I drove. There were a few concerns I wanted to alleviate, and then I could go on with the rest of my day. If I could manage to ease my mind about Chester’s role in Joe’s death, then I thought I could focus solely on Sheamus’s well-being, and maybe have a nice, quiet day at home with my husband for once—if I could talk him into taking the day off from work, that was. I think we both needed a little quiet relaxation.

I parked two spaces down from Chester’s office, right behind Amelia’s car. She’d been putting in a lot of time at work and I was beginning to wonder if she’d ever finish college, or if she planned on transitioning straight to private investigator once she learned the ropes and got her license. I assumed Chester was paying her for her work, but I’d never outright asked her. I wasn’t entirely sure it was my place to ask.

Amelia was sitting at one of the desks just inside the office. She didn’t so much as glance up from her laptop as I entered. She was staring at the screen with an intensity that would melt steel. Her earbuds were in, music turned up so I could hear it by the door, which was why she hadn’t heard me enter.

I slipped quietly by her since what I wanted to ask Chester was between the two of us. I didn’t want to upset Amelia, not when it could be prevented with a private one-on-one.

I knocked gently on Chester’s closed office door.

“Come on in, Amelia,” he said. “Did you find anything?”

I opened the door just enough to slip in, keeping an eye on Amelia to make sure she didn’t see me, and then closed the door behind me once I was safely inside.

“Oh, Mrs. Denton.” Chester rose from his desk. I noted he was wearing a suit that looked an awful lot like the same suit he’d worn the last time I’d seen him. As I’d noted when Penelope had pointed him out, it looked new. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Call me Liz,” I said absently, though at this point, I doubted it would do any good. Some habits did die hard.

“Liz, right.” He smiled and then motioned to a chair. “What can I do for you today?”

I sat with deliberate slowness so I could gather my thoughts before speaking. What would I do if my concerns proved justified? There was no way Amelia would listen to me if I warned her off working with Chester. Her stubbornness would get in the way; it was a trait she’d gotten from me.

“I talked to Penelope Pringle,” I said. “Christine’s friend.”

He folded his hands on his desk. “Did she have anything enlightening to say?”

“I’m not sure.” There was no good way to go about asking him, so I just said it. “She, like a few others I’ve talked to, mentioned seeing someone wearing a suit talking to Christine before her disappearance. Ida Priestly also mentioned a man coming to see her, both after Christine vanished and then again recently.” Though Ida had described her man as being rough around the edges, not a man wearing a suit. “Penelope pointed you out, saying your suit was similar to what she remembered.”

The only reaction I got out of Chester was a slight widening of his eyes. “I see.”

I fidgeted, uncomfortable by his stare, though I think it was mostly because of the twinge of guilt I felt for even thinking he could have had anything to do with Christine’s disappearance or Joe’s death.

Chester seemed to note my discomfort, because he visibly eased as he sat back with a smile. “I understand your concern,” he said. “And while I approached all the women you mentioned in the course of my investigation, I only did so in the name of finding the truth.”

“You didn’t know Christine before she vanished?” I asked.

“No, I did not.” He kept his smile in place, but I noted a flash of pain in his eyes. “I never did get the chance to meet her. Joe came to me once he realized she was gone. It was the first time I’d met him as well. I’ve spent so much time on the case, I do feel like I’ve known the both of them forever, but no, I had no contact with either of them before Christine left town.”

I was taking him at his word, but boy, hearing him say it made me feel a whole lot better. “Do you have any idea who this man in a suit might be?” I asked, my mind going straight to Martin Castor, but I wanted to hear Chester say it.

“I wish I did.” His smile slid from his face. “You said someone told you Christine was talking to this suited man before she vanished? No one ever said anything to me.”

“I don’t think anyone thought it important back then,” I said. “From the sounds of it, Joe and Christine had a good relationship, so it wasn’t like anyone believed she’d cheat on him.” And yeah, I was pretty sure I’d tell the cops if someone I knew and loved vanished and had been sneaking around with some strange guy beforehand, but not everyone thought like me.

Chester frowned and drummed his fingers on his desktop. “What do you know about this guy? Did anyone give you a description?”

“Not really,” I said. “No one got a good look at his face. The only thing that keeps coming up is how he was always in a suit.” And then, because it kept playing over and over in my mind, I said, “Martin Castor wears a suit.”

Chester’s face clouded over. “I’m aware of that.”

“Do you think he could be the man we’re looking for? I was told he is one of Harry Davis’s friends, so it would make sense if they were working together.”

“It’s possible,” Chester said before leaning forward. “But, please, stay clear of Martin Castor. I was never able to prove he had anything to do with Christine’s disappearance, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t participate in it. He . . .” He shook his head and sat back, unable—or unwilling—to say whatever had popped into his head.

I had no intention of putting myself in any further danger, though if it came down to it, I might end up having to have a little chat with Martin, especially if Harry kept coming around harassing my daughter.

“Did you ever find out if Erik Deavers is who he says he is?” I asked, deciding to alleviate one more of my fears while I was at it.

Before Chester could answer, there was a knock at the door and an awfully familiar voice called out.

“Mr. Chudzinski? It’s Erik.”

Chester’s face brightened. “Let’s ask him ourselves, shall we?”

I opened my mouth to beg him to wait, but it was already too late.

“Come on in,” Chester called.

The door opened and Erik entered, a worried expression on his face. When he saw me, his entire demeanor changed. He reached out and gripped my hands in his own.

“Thank you so much for coming when I called yesterday,” he said. “I contacted the police after you left and they eased my mind considerably.”

“Please,” Chester said. “Take a seat.”

Erik released my hands and eased down into the chair next to me.

“Erik came to see me after the cops paid him a visit at his hotel room,” Chester explained. “We went over details, for verification purposes only.” He gave me a telling look. “Erik was able to provide sufficient evidence that he is, indeed, Christine’s son.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, glancing at Erik to see if he was offended. He merely smiled at me. I hated to ask, but I needed to know. “Do you know for certain if Joe was your father?”

Erik shrugged. “I wish I could say yes, but all I have is Mom’s word. I have no reason to doubt her.”

“Neither do I,” Chester said. “And I’m sure Erik would be willing to take a DNA test if it comes to that.”

“Whatever I can do to help.”

“Did the police find any evidence of who broke in to your hotel room?” I asked.

“No,” Erik said. “But I think they have a few leads. At least, that’s the impression they left me with. Mr. Chudzinski is helping me with a few details.”

I realized that meant I was delaying their meeting. I rose. “I’m glad to hear everything is working out,” I said. “I’d better go.”

“If you hear anything else . . .” Chester said.

“I’ll call you right away.”

“It was good to see you, Liz,” Erik said. “If you get a chance in the next couple of days, there’s something else I’d like to talk to you about. It’s not important now, but I’d like to discuss it before I leave for home.”

“Of course,” I said, before slipping out the door and letting them get down to business.

Amelia was leaning against her desk, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, as I closed Chester’s office door.

“I wasn’t going behind your back on anything,” I said before she could speak. “I didn’t want to disturb your work.”

“Uh-huh.”

I didn’t want to fight, so I motioned to her laptop. “Did you find anything?”

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders. “Not a lot. I’ve been trying to find a connection to Harry Davis and the Danvers family, but so far, I’ve come up blank. Same goes for a man named Martin Castor. Heard of him?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you knew about him.”

“Chester told me to see what I could dig up.” Amelia patted her laptop. “I have this feeling that one of those two men killed Joe Danvers, but I can’t figure out which, or why. I’ve been working here online, rather than doing face-to-face meetings.”

Noting the concern in her voice, I asked, “Is that what Maya’s doing?”

Amelia glanced toward the door, as if she hoped to see Maya walk in at that very moment. “Yeah. She’s talking to a few people, but Chester warned us off of confronting either Harry or Martin directly.” She made it sound like her boss was hamstringing the investigation. “Has your police detective friend learned anything new?”

“Detective Cavanaugh isn’t my friend,” I said. “And, honestly, I haven’t spoken to him much about it. He wasn’t in the last time I was at the station.”

Amelia frowned. “I was hoping he found a print or something that might help.”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Though, I figured I should pay Cavanaugh a visit before long to see what, if anything, he’d discovered. While none of this was really any of my business, I had found Joe’s body. Cavanaugh didn’t owe me anything, but I could always play the angle of a distressed witness to get a little something out of him.

“I should get back to work.” Amelia rounded her desk and sat in her chair with a weary sigh. “I didn’t bring enough coffee for this.”

I wished her good luck and then made my way to my van. As much as I wanted to get back to Manny to see how he was doing, thoughts of Detective Cavanaugh had me setting my sights on the police station instead. It wasn’t too far away, so it wouldn’t take me long to make a quick stop and see where the investigation stood. I could always check in with Manny afterward.

Fate, of course, had a different plan for me.

My phone rang just as I started the engine. I answered without glancing at the screen.

That was a mistake.

“You!” Courtney’s shrill voice had me jerking the phone from my ear. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!”

I gave it a moment to make sure she was done before I replied. “What am I supposed to have done this time?” I asked.

“You know. Meet me at my place. Now.” She hung up without waiting for me to respond.

“Great.” I dropped my phone into the cupholder like it was responsible for the call. It would be so easy to just ignore Courtney’s wishes and go about my day like she’d never called.

But did I really want to deal with the consequences of ignoring her?

With a weary sigh that mirrored Amelia’s own, I put the van into gear, and headed for what was sure to be a headache-inducing meeting with Courtney Shaw.