Chapter Twenty-Two

A half hour after Susannah was taken away, the doorbell rang, and Kate hurried from her studio to answer it.

Joe Tucker stood on the porch, his shoulders slumped, his expression full of sorrow. He held an old hat in his hands and played with the brim as he spoke.

“Is Paul here?”

“He’s in Chattanooga, Joe. Is there anything I can do for you?”

He shook his head. “I know Miz Applebaum is your friend, and I held off saying anything to the sheriff as long as I could. But I saw what I saw, and I had to get it off my chest.”

“Oh, Joe, you’re the witness they told me about?”

He nodded. “I was on my way home from the taping that day when I saw this silver sports car headin’ up Smith Street toward the creek. It’s unusual to see a tiny vehicle like that on a rough road, and I’d remembered seein’ the same car the night before, when the Taste Network folks got here. Saw Miz Applebaum get out of it, so I knew it was hers. Anyway, when I saw the car, I followed it just in case it bottomed out or something, and she needed help. That’s when I saw Miz Applebaum get out and lay into the owner of the Hummer. They were arguin’ to beat the band. I figured it was none of my business, so I hightailed it out of there as fast as I could.”

Kate let the information soak in, feeling her spirits spiral downward. Why hadn’t Susannah told her she was with Newt Keller that day? There could only be one reason: she had something to hide.

“You did what you had to do, Joe. Please don’t think I’ll hold it against you. It was the right thing to do.”

He looked relieved. “I hope it all turns out okay.”

She touched his arm. “It will.”

She waited until he was gone before she cried.

A STORM MOVED INTO Copper Mill that afternoon. The wind whistled through the trees, and blasts of frigid air rattled branches against the windows. It reminded Kate of the storm that took the life of Precious McFie. She attempted to get back to the stained-glass votive she was making for Susannah, but her thoughts were anywhere but on her work.

Finally, she gave up and called Livvy to see if she would like to join her for coffee and pie at the diner.

“I was just getting ready to call you, Kate. We’ve seen too little of each other lately,” Livvy said. “It’ll be good to catch up.”

By the time Kate backed out of the garage, the rain had started, large drops at first, then it came faster and harder, strong winds driving it at a slant against the windshield.

When she got out of the car at the diner, the street was already slick with sleet.

“And it’s not even winter yet,” LuAnne said when Kate stepped inside.

Livvy waved from a booth by the window, and Kate made her way toward her across the nearly full diner. Several tables were filled with Taste Network cast and crew, who apparently had the day off because of the power outage at the hotel. A few recognized Kate and called out their greetings.

In the back of the diner, Birdie Birge was holding court with Daryl Gallagher and Armand Platt, who, judging from his animated conversation, seemed delighted to have the afternoon off from his chef’s duties. Kate wondered if he would be out of a job soon. How quickly circumstances had changed since he jokingly offered Susannah a job at the Bristol.

If things didn’t turn around quickly at the Hamilton Springs, Armand wouldn’t be the only one out of a job.

Livvy touched Kate’s hand. “I heard about the arrest.”

“News travels fast,” Kate remarked.

“It always does in Copper Mill,” Livvy said gently. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I just wish there was something I could do.”

“Have you talked to Susannah?” Livvy asked. “This must be terribly hard on her.”

“I called Skip Spencer to see if I could get in to see her, but they’re still questioning her. I asked about bail, and he didn’t know.” Kate leaned across the table toward Livvy. “Her career may already be damaged beyond repair.”

Just then a cell phone rang across the diner. Nicolette stood, and even from the distance between them, Kate could see the flush on her cheeks as she lifted the phone to her ear. She said something to the group she was with, then, still holding the phone, she strode out of the diner.

Kate pulled back the curtain and watched Nicolette walk across the street. Then, stopping, she leaned against a lamppost and smiled as she continued talking.

Watching the scene along with Kate, Livvy said, “It appears to be good news.”

“More than that,” Kate said, leaning forward. “Look at her face. What expression do you see?”

Livvy frowned, then a slow realization seemed to dawn. Her eyes were wide when she looked back at Kate.

“That’s the face of a woman in love,” Kate said. “And I’m pretty sure I know who she’s in love with...”—she refrained from giving the air a victory punch—“and who she’s talking to.”

Livvy laughed. “Something tells me you just connected some dots.”

“One big dot,” Kate said.

They finished their pie, then Livvy said, “Don’t forget. Tomorrow night is the book signing.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Is Paul coming?”

“He’s decided we need to support the library—and you—in this. We’ll both be there early, just in case you need us.”

Livvy pressed her fork into the last of her pie crust, took a bite, and smiled. “To help with crowd control?”

“Are the Caspers still planning to picket?”

“I think so. I was hoping that the fuss would die down...until the strange events at the hotel hit. Now I fear it just riled up the Caspers and Ghostbusters even more.”

LuAnne brought their bill, and the two women went over to the cash register to pay. “Even if it’s just for moral support, we’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

“And, of course, there’s Joel St. Nicklaus, who’s probably dealt with this sort of thing before. He’ll know how to handle the naysayers.”

“Maybe he’s got something magical in his bag of tricks.”

Kate groaned. “Oh dear. Next we’ll be talking about his white beard.”

Livvy stared at her friend for a moment, then bit her bottom lip.

“Don’t tell me...”

Livvy giggled. “I’ve seen his photo, and, yes, he’s got one. But he looks more like Hemingway than the other white-bearded guy.”

Outside the diner, Livvy patted Kate’s hand. “Try not to worry about Susannah. God’s got her in his hands, and he’s not going to let go.”

“I know that in here,” Kate said, tapping her heart, “but it’s up here that’s prone to worry.” She touched her forehead. “Especially when it’s someone I care about.” She didn’t mention the text message she’d received, though that worried her as well.

They hugged good-bye, and Livvy headed back to the library. Kate rounded the corner to where she had parked the Honda.

She came to a dead stop.

Nicolette was standing in front of her car, arms crossed.

“I saw you watching me,” she said, tilting her head toward the diner widow. “It wasn’t a casual glance. You pulled back the curtain and stared while I was on the phone.”

Kate’s heart did a little dance, and she coughed to get the rhythm back to normal. “I noticed the glow on your face and wondered who you might be talking to,” she said.

“Glow?” The word came out as a growl.

“Yes. The glow of a woman who cares a great deal about the person she’s talking to.”

Nicolette looked stunned. Then she laughed. “You have a very active imagination.”

Kate didn’t answer. Her heart was still pounding. She swallowed hard and tried to breathe normally.

“No matter.” Nicolette shrugged. “But I would like to pass along a word of warning. You’re very nosy. I suggest you mind your own business.”

“So you decided to deliver the warning in person this time?”

Nicolette looked momentarily confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smirk returned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Even though the sleet had stopped falling, a cold wind still blasted, lifting Kate’s hair, stinging her cheeks, and chilling her to the bone.

KATE TOOK A CHANCE that she might be able to talk with Susannah and stopped by the jail. Skip Spencer led her into the holding facility.

Susannah sat on the side of a bunk, alone in her cell. It broke Kate’s heart to see her this way.

She looked up when she heard Kate’s approach. Her smile was wan.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?”

“Fair to middlin’,” she said with a hollow laugh.

Skip returned to his desk, leaving Kate to speak with her friend.

“Is it true?” Kate asked again, hoping for a different answer. “About the blood on the towel, I mean?”

“Yes. I went on a drive that day, spotted Newt’s Hummer, and decided to give him a piece of my mind about how he treats people. I drove to that place by the creek, got out of my car and found him sitting in his. He seemed despondent, which surprised me. I saw him holding that Swiss army knife of his and panicked.”

She shook her head as she walked toward the bars between them. “I thought he was going to harm himself. So I lunged—tried to take it away from him.” She sighed. “My vivid imagination got the best of me. But I missed and during the scuffle, he cut himself. I ran for a towel, dabbed it on his wound.” She shrugged. “We even had a laugh over it, and then I left. Without giving it another thought, I tossed the towel in the trunk.”

“I wish you’d told me that from the beginning,” Kate said quietly.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” Susannah said, blinking back her tears. “But apparently it is.”

“It is to the police,” Kate whispered, touching Susannah’s hand through the bars.

“That’s what worries me.” Susannah turned her back and Kate could see that she was crying.