Looking around the crowded hall as she made her way to the exit door, Autumn couldn’t see any sign of Ben. He must be in one of the kiosks, gathering information – and, she was sure, topping up on caffeine. For now, she decided to go outside and speak to Antonio on her own. After all, it was important to do that before the buggy left, because it sounded as if Antonio had a very busy schedule.
She headed outside, feeling resolute, knowing that there was a good chance this mystery could be solved within the hour, and Willow’s name cleared.
Where was Antonio? He was a thickset, dark-haired man with a fervent way of speaking and a deep belly laugh.
It made all the sense in the world that a man this passionate could easily, in the heat of the moment, have shoved Trevor backward. Antonio was powerful and strong.
Scenarios were tumbling around in Autumn’s mind as she headed out, taking a deep breath of air that was freezing cold. The temperature was plummeting. Being outside, in the wind, made her appreciate the cozy environment of the town hall all the more.
Now, were there any buggies in sight?
She looked around. There was one – with her favorite pair of horses in harness, but the two chestnut horses with their white blazes were just dropping off a new arrival of guests. She couldn’t see any angry barista loading anything up.
How about that one?
Parked near the building’s corner, under a shadowy overhang, she saw a buggy on its own, with a horse dozing in front of it, covered in a gray blanket to keep out the chill while it wasn’t moving.
Staring through narrowed eyes as she hovered near the town hall’s doorway, Autumn recognized Antonio. He looked very different from when he was on duty in Lakeside Coffees. There, he’d always worn a striped apron and a broad smile. Now, dressed in a dark coat that reached to his thighs, and a gray woolen hat that squashed down his hair and made his head look like a bullet, he was a very different and more intimidating sight.
The way he was flinging a bag onto the buggy spoke of temper and anger. This was exactly the type of person who might commit a deadly assault.
Olive oil would surely be the substance of choice for an Italian to grab, in order to create a sketchy scenario for the crime.
Encouraged by the direction her own thoughts were taking her, Autumn stepped closer. Broaching the subject of murder was always a difficult moment. Antonio might react in a variety of ways. None of them were actually likely to be welcoming, and some of them could land her in trouble.
He was flinging what looked like the final bag in the pile, onto the back of the buggy. The horse, still dozing comfortably, shifted its hooves, resting its other back leg.
“Antonio,” she said, so loudly and suddenly that he jumped. He spun around to stare at her. Definitely, Autumn thought, he was on edge. And a murderer wouldn’t exactly be calm after having committed a deadly crime. Would they?
“What is it?” he asked in a deep, Italian-accented voice. “What do you want from me, please? I don’t want to be rude, but I’m in a hurry.”
“I need to ask you something very important,” Autumn said, closing the distance between them.
“Today, signora, I am not in a good mood,” Antonio said. “I’m busy and preoccupied. I have a lot on my mind. If you want to speak to me, come tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow is difficult for me. It’ll only take a moment," Autumn said. She'd never known Antonio to be so rude and dismissive. This was very different from his usual demeanor, and she was now wondering if the friendly coffee shop owner that she had exchanged occasional greetings with had been nothing more than a façade.
“I don’t have a moment!” Angrily, he leaped onto the buggy. The next second, to Autumn’s alarm, he shook the reins. The horse jumped to attention and then broke into a fast walk as he steered it to the road. Once there, another shake of the reins got the animal into a brisk trot.
“No! Wait! I need to ask you something incredibly urgent!”
He was escaping her via horse buggy! He was literally making a getaway. Who knew where he was going, or when she’d be able to ask him these important questions again. For all she knew, he could be making one last drop off before catching a boat and fleeing the island.
Only one thing for it.
Autumn pushed off from the grassy bank, getting as much speed as she could from this standing start. And then, she launched herself onto the road at a brisk jog, her legs flying over the blacktop, her eyes fixed on the horse and buggy ahead.
“It’ll only take a minute!” she shouted.
Antonio looked around at the sound of her voice, incredulity in his eyes as he saw her running.
“Signora, some other time. Go back and drink coffee!” he shouted.
“No! I’m not drinking coffee. I’m chasing you and I won’t give up until you stop!” she shouted back. His disparaging laugh told her that he didn’t buy her threat.
“You won’t last a minute. Biggles will outrun you. He is fit, and I have rented him for the day!” He turned away from her, relaxing back in his seat and holding the reins loosely as he clucked to the horse, keeping him in that level, ground covering trot.
That observation was true. Autumn had to acknowledge it. Right now, the caffeine was giving her a physical boost, but already, the breath was starting to burn in her lungs and her legs were telling her that while they were used to walking any distance she wanted to go, running was a very different story.
Biggles was going to beat her hands down in terms of endurance.
But how about in terms of raw, short-term speed?
Autumn dragged a lungful of air in. Then, with her arms flailing, she gave it everything she had. She flung herself forward, looking for speed above all else, feeling her purse thudding against her side with every stride she took, and hoping to goodness that she didn't misstep, and turn her ankle, and go sprawling down on the road.
But she was getting closer. Close enough to do what she needed to?
She had to try.
Grabbing the back of the buggy with both hands, Autumn gave a flying leap, pushing off from the blacktop and managing to get a leg over the buggy’s edge. Her actions unbalanced it, and it jolted wildly. With a startled cry, Antonio looked around, to see her scrambling aboard on top of the bags.
“Signora!” Astonishment resounded in his tone. “What are you doing?”
“I’m – I’m coming to – ask you some questions.”
He gave a resigned sigh.
“Walk,” he told Biggles, who dropped straight back into a comfortable, ambling walk, his hindquarters swaying.
Then, Antonio turned to her, frustration etched on his face. He held out a hand.
"Sit up front, at least," he snapped. "I’ll probably be liable somehow if you fall out.”
Autumn accepted the hand he offered, his gloved fingers gripping hers firmly as she scrambled to the front.
Her reckless, though daring maneuver had gotten her sitting next to a suspected killer. What she asked him in the next few minutes could make or break this case.