Kit guided me past the front desk and toward the exit, handing me my purse she’d retrieved for me, my coat, pausing at the large, glass doors to wait for me to pull on the puffy warmth, though I didn’t need it. I was burning up with rage, shaking from it, not wanting Robert to see just how angry I really was.
That would wait for the parking lot and the interior of my car.
I really shouldn’t have been trusted to sit behind the wheel of a vehicle in that state of mind.
Never mind Robert practically spit in Emile’s face when my employer (and friend), tried to protest my removal.
“Fiona works for me,” he’d said to the gasbag of a waste of space that was our sheriff.
“Not anymore.” Robert had marched me past everyone, on purpose, revolting hand on my elbow like I was an errant child he’d decided to thrash in public.
Yes, another layer of memory in a churning cesspool of bubbling fury I had to ponder over, flickers of remembrance, of instances that had been the last, what? Fifteen minutes?
Time was fluid like the flowing magma beneath a volcano about to erupt.
I needed to get out of there now.
Kit followed me out into the chill air, all the way to my car, while I inhaled giant gulps of freshness in an attempt to cap the fire raging inside me. She had the good sense to wait until I stood next to my car, shaking so badly I could barely click the unlock button on my fob, taking the keys from me when I almost dropped them.
“I’m sorry, Fee,” she said, that simple statement exactly what I needed. Because she didn’t rail against the unfairness of things, she didn’t downplay my ejection. Didn’t begin her own tirade against Robert. Kit Somersby just stood there, holding my keys and space for me to pull myself together while the knots inside me slowly unwound and I finally exhaled a full breath, pressing my forehead to the chill side of my car.
“Thanks,” I whispered. “This is a disaster.”
Kit nodded, still hanging onto my keys in her small, gloved hands, looking like a kid in her uniform, as though she’d dressed up for Halloween, shining dark hair in a smooth ponytail tucked under her standard-issue knitted cap, the puffy bomber jacket of the department’s winter attire gigantic on her little frame. But there was a foundation to Kit that I’d sensed in the past, a level and almost ancient confidence in her despite her youth that helped me further, put me at ease enough I held out my now steady hand.
She gave me my keys without comment or argument. “Is it just me,” she said, “or did Robert seem to know something was going to happen?”
I nodded. “Not just you,” I said.
Kit stared at the doors to the lodge, expression thoughtful, round, smooth cheeks pink from the cold. It had started to snow, and a big, fluffy clump landed on her thick, black lashes. She blinked it away while her attention remained focused on the venue. “Is it normal for the proceeds of a tournament like this one to revert to the sponsors instead of returning that money to the players who registered if the pot isn’t won because the event is canceled?’
Um, that was beyond my knowledge but sounded freaking sketchy. “All the money goes to Emile?” That sounded like a motive for murder. But Emile?
Kit shrugged. “Robert seemed pretty happy about it when he told Mr. Reis about the contract details. And Mr. Reis wasn’t. So, I don’t know.” She met my eyes again, still musing and unjudging, like she was just working things out without emotion getting in the way, an excellent example and exactly what I needed at that moment. I felt myself unwind further, the caldera of my imminent explosion sinking further down until, at last, I capped it with cool control. For now. “How I wonder did he know about the contract in the first place? And why was it he felt the need to inform Emile when it’s not really any of his business?”
Because if Robert knew something that he could lord over someone else? You better believe he’d use it just to make himself feel superior. “Raises a lot of questions,” I said, matching her level tone. “About how much he knows about the murder.”
“And if he might have had some advanced warning something might happen.” Kit shrugged inside her big jacket. “Makes a body curious.”
Okay, I’d seriously underestimated her, I admit it. Kind of brushed her off in the past. Because of her age, her lack of experience. But Kit had proven herself more than competent and, in this conversation, that she had a serious head for making connections on her shoulders. Paired with understatements that made me want to hug her.
“I take it you plan to poke around and see if you can find out just what his connection might be to the murder?” I went for casual, caught her innocent eye-widening, and laughed when she shook her head in mock denial.
“I’m just a lowly deputy,” she said. “I wouldn’t dream of accusing my boss of being complicit to or an accessory to a murder.”
“That’s big of you,” I said.
Kit winked then, grinned. “I might be new to town, Fee, but I keep my ears open and my mouth shut when people talk. I’ve learned a lot about what’s happened here, figured out a few things on my own, pieced other bits together from rumor and innuendo. It’s become pretty clear to little old me, we have a bit of an organized crime problem in the cutest town in America, and our sheriff isn’t exactly smelling rosy. If you know what I mean.”
Pretty certain she wasn’t referring to his BO.
“You think the O’Sheas might have had Jameson killed.” But what was his connection to them?
Again with the shrug in the giant coat, the innocent look. “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she said. Before her face settled into a dark and angry expression that surprised me. “But I’m going to find out. And I plan to keep you up to speed. That a problem for you, Fleming?”
I shook my head, breathing a sigh of relief, truth be told. “You’re going to get yourself fired.”
“Oh god,” she groaned with serious drama, “I really freaking hope so.” Made me snort a giggle and then laugh with her. Kit exhaled heavily into the snowy night, a big puff of mist clouding her expression a moment. “I’d be surprised if I’m around much longer anyway,” she said. “There’s been a new development in the Reading Sheriff’s Department and our dear Jimmy Dodge is around enough with a strong enough Chicago accent I figure I’m about to be replaced.” Wait, an O’Shea? As a deputy? Well, that would make bad tumble into worse in a hurry.
Inquiries would be made. Now that I was feeling better, I realized just how behind the times I’d fallen and it was time to correct that before my beloved little town was overrun. If it wasn’t already. “First things first,” I said. “We need to know who the sponsor of the tournament was if Emile isn’t filling that role.” He’d said he was hosting. Did that delineate a different set of responsibilities?
Kit bobbed a nod. “On it. Meanwhile, I guess you’ll have to go home and put your feet up and avoid getting arrested if you don’t mind? Because once I do get fired? I expect a job out of this.”
She what? I gaped at her while the deputy saluted me before turning and heading back inside the lodge, leaving me to stare with a grin at her utter audacity while looking forward to having her on board.
I climbed into my car, brain formulating plans and discarding them, driving home knowing there was a good chance I could avoid Robert easily enough. But Rose? She was another story entirely.
There was a very good chance I’d be seeing the inside of a jail cell before too long. After all, I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.
***