Chapter Twenty-one

Stunned at Josie’s revelation, I knew exactly who had caused the icy pavement. I stared at her. “When you heard about Jed’s death, did you tell the police what you’d seen?”

“I didn’t hear about his demise until this morning. I left town on business Monday morning and didn’t get back from California until yesterday. Right before I saw you walking the puppy, in fact.” She raised a single elegant eyebrow. “A death in a town like South Lick doesn’t exactly make the national news.”

“No kidding. Thanks for sharing that information.” I wanted to take action, but the restaurant didn’t empty out like magic, so I kept working.

Josie ate and departed, giving Danna a hug and me a handshake. I refused Josie’s offer to pay, of course. The rest of the customers settled up and left. The clock read one-thirty. I looked at Danna. She looked back. I gave her a thumbs-up and hurried to the door. Once it was locked and the sign turned to CLOSED, I exchanged a high five with my employee.

“We did it,” I said. “Now for some well-deserved time off.”

“I can’t wait. Let’s do this cleanup in double time.”

I cranked up a playlist of reggae Christmas carols. We cleared and stashed and scrubbed. By two-thirty, we had all the chairs upside down on the empty tables, ready for the cleaning folks I’d hired to come in next week to deep clean, and to wax and buff the floor, too. Any food likely to spoil in the eight days was either tossed or packaged up and ready for Danna and me to take to our respective homes and consume—not that my home was very far away.

“How about a beer to celebrate?” I asked her. “I know you drink a little.” She was still nearly a year shy of twenty-one, but hey. It was Christmas.

“Like obviously, Robbie, I’d love to. And I’m walking home, so no worries.”

“Come on back.” I took my share of biscuits, bacon, and cut-up veggies to my apartment fridge. Birdy crouched, wary, near his empty food bowl. “Hey, kitty cat. Doggy’s gone, okay?” I poured pint glasses of beer for Danna and me at the kitchen table, then served Birdy his wet food of the day. I sank into a chair and raised my libation. “Here’s to a great team, and a totally relaxing holiday.”

She clinked, sipped, and set down her glass. “We should think about bringing in a substitute whenever one of the three of us is gone. That got nutso for a while there this week.”

I poured tortilla chips into a bowl and popped open a new can of cashews before I answered. “You’re absolutely right. Who we could hire is always the question. But we can work on that.”

She munched a few cashews. “What’d you think of my grandma? Isn’t she dynamite?”

“She’s a pistol, all right.” I pictured her sitting awake in the dark, looking with her bad eyesight down onto the walkway.

“Did she help? Did she see anything?”

“Only sort of. A woman poured water on the pavement between the box and the iron fence. But Josie said her vision wasn’t up to more details than that.”

Danna uttered an obscenity and then ducked her head into her shoulders. “Oh, sorry.”

I snorted. “Like I haven’t heard or said it before.”

“I know, but I’m trying to get out of the habit of swearing. It totally doesn’t go over well with customers.”

“True.”

“Anyway, too bad Josie couldn’t see more, right?” Danna asked.

“Very much too bad,” I agreed. “Still, I think what she did see might be of use.” It might very well be of use.

“At least she said it was a woman. How did she know that?”

“She said she saw a red skirt. Hang on while I text that to Oscar. I should have done it earlier.” I tapped out the message.

Josephine Dunn, Mayor Beedle’s mother, lives by library. Said she saw woman in red skirt pour water on pavement night before Jed Greenberg’s death.

“There.” I set my phone on the table and munched a chip.

“And are there women who are suspects?”

I nodded. “Jed’s wife, Willa Mae, and Karinde, the woman who rescues dogs. I’ve only met Karinde a few times. I don’t think she’s the skirt-wearing type, but I could be wrong. Enough talk of suspects. It’s Christmastime. Hang on a sec.” I rose and went into my bedroom, emerging with Danna’s gift. I handed it to her before I sat.

“What’s this? I love the cute bag.”

“Thanks. I’m going to offer them for sale, but you got the first one.” I watched as she unpacked it, crowing over every discovery.

“Robbie, this is so sweet.” Her cheeks glowed. “You’re wicked awesome, you know that?” She pulled a little green box tied with a red ribbon out of her skirt pocket. “I got you something, too.” She pushed it across the table.

“You didn’t have to do that. But I’m not waiting until tomorrow to open it.” I untied the ribbon and removed the lid. On a square of puffy cotton sat a pair of round earrings an inch in diameter. They were blue, with our store logo enameled on them in white, with silver wires. “My gosh. Where did you get these? I love them!” I slid out the small gold hoops I wore every day to work and threaded the new earrings through my lobes.

“Etsy. You can get anything on Etsy.”

“Thank you, Danna. What a treat.” I pointed at the bag. “There’s one more thing in your bag.”

She peered into the bag until she drew out the envelope.

“You earned that, and more,” I said. “Don’t open it now. Turner’s getting one, too. And Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you, Robbie,” she said, her voice thick. “This is the best job I’ve ever had.” She stuck Adele’s hat on her head and grabbed her phone. “Christmas selfie?”

“Your arms are longer than mine. You take it.” I scooted around to stand next to her. She was so tall I only had to bend my knees a little to align my face with hers, and she was sitting.

“Cheers!”