Late that afternoon at the jail, Sam seemed buoyed by the news that his friends and neighbors were convinced of his innocence. That and the leftovers from the buffet.
“This lasagna is mighty good,” he said, shoveling it in like he hadn’t seen food in a week. “Who made it?”
“Andy and Bridget,” Maxi said.
“Figures. Those two know their way around a kitchen. Spring onion pancakes are pretty tasty, too. Especially with this roast beef. Not like the meat they serve here. Hamburger today was like shoe leather. Tough and dry. Tell everybody ‘thanks.’ Still don’t know what’s gonna happen. But thanks all the same.”
“What’s going to happen is we’re all comparing notes and looking at a few new angles on Stewart Lord’s murder—and that was all Maxi’s doing,” Kate said. “Somewhere, the police are missing something. And now you’ve got a whole team of people in your corner who want to find out what really happened—and get you out of here.”
“And a big ol’ birdie told me that the investigation unit is releasing the bakery tomorrow,” Maxi said. “So we can give it a good scrubbing and get it reopened in the next few days.”
Sam stopped in mid-bite. He stared at Maxi and back at Kate. Then down at the floor. For a moment, he was completely still. Finally, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his navy jumpsuit. “Tomato sauce,” he muttered.
“Well, I hope you saved room for dessert,” Kate said matter-of-factly. “’Cause Minette made a sweet potato tart and some banana pudding just for you. She even crumbled vanilla wafers over the top of the pudding.”
“Yeah,” Maxi added. “And word is, Carl’s on the warpath because she didn’t make any for him.”