I hadn’t been certain of what I was going to do until I said the words out loud. Elvis jumped down from my chair and went and stood by the office door. “You can come,” I said. I looked around even though the cat and I were the only ones left in the building. I felt odd about what I was about to admit. “I need you to help me figure out if it was really Vince’s daughter who was harassing Lily.”
“Merow,” the cat said. I decided to take that as agreement.
“You have to go in my gym bag,” I said. “I can’t walk into The Black Bear carrying a cat.”
Elvis put a paw over his nose and ducked his head.
“It does not smell,” I said. He did this every time I wanted him to get in the bag. “You spend more time in that bag than my running clothes do. If anything, the bag smells like cat.”
He looked at the bag. He looked at me. What he didn’t do was move.
I crossed my arms. Elvis started washing the fur on his chest.
“Okay, don’t come, then,” I said with an elaborate shrug.
I pulled on my hat and picked up my gloves. Elvis made a squinty face at me. Did he think I was bluffing? I was asking that question about a cat, I realized. Luckily for me, Elvis caved at just that moment. He got up, went over to the empty gym bag sitting on the floor and pawed at the zipper. I bent down, opened the top, and he climbed in.
“Thank you,” I said, giving the top of his head a little scratch.
This wasn’t me getting involved in the Angels’ investigation, I told myself all the way down to The Black Bear. This was just me looking out for a friend.
The pub was busy. No surprise. It was Saturday night, and I knew Sam had a local band playing later. He came across the room to me when I walked in. “Hi,” he said. “Are you meeting Jess?”
“No,” I said. “I was hoping Vince might be here.”
Sam’s expression changed. “He is here. He talked to Michelle Andrews this morning, by the way.”
I sighed softly. “I was hoping he hadn’t.”
He looked confused. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted Vince to tell her what he did.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Most things are,” he said. “What’s going on?”
I shifted the gym bag from one shoulder to another, hoping Elvis wouldn’t choose now to meow and give me away. “I just want to talk to him for a minute, Sam. Can you just trust me?”
He nodded slowly. “He’s in my office, but Asia’s with him, Sarah. Think carefully about what you say.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
He inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen. “You want a bowl of sausage and penne soup?” he asked.
“Ummm, thanks. That sounds good,” I said. I kept one hand on the bag as a warning to Elvis that he needed to stay still and quiet if he wanted any of the tiny sausage meatballs that would be in my soup.
Vince and Asia were on the couch in Sam’s office. Vince was playing Sam’s twelve-string. Asia was eating something—the Italian penne and sausage soup, my nose told me.
“Hi,” I said.
“I’m feeding Sarah in here because she has her cat with her,” Sam said.
So much for fooling him.
Vince looked up and nodded in my direction but didn’t say anything.
Asia smiled. “Hi, Sarah,” she said. “Can I see your cat?” She was wearing a Queen T-shirt and skinny jeans, her short blond hair brushed back off her face.
“Sure,” I said. I took off my coat and tossed it over the back of an armless chair Sam had bought from my shop. Then I set the bag on the floor, opened the top, and Elvis poked his head out and looked around.
“Hello,” Asia said, holding out one hand. Elvis walked toward her, nose twitching. After sardines and Tasty Tenders, meatballs were one of his favorite foods. He sniffed Asia’s fingers and then licked her thumb. She laughed. “Is it all right if I give him a meatball?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” I said. I knew I’d have a better chance of wrestling a bobcat away from one of those meatballs than I would Elvis.
She fished one out of her bowl and held it out. Elvis sniffed it delicately, and then the whole thing went in his mouth. He ate it, licked her fingers and then meowed softly.
“You don’t need any more,” I said. He didn’t even look at me. I was on ignore.
Asia patted her lap, and to her delight Elvis jumped up, settled himself and sniffed the air.
I laughed. “He’s not exactly subtle.”
“He so friendly,” she said, stroking his fur.
“That’s because he’s a ham bone for attention,” I said.
Vince continued to play Sam’s guitar, but I’d seen him dart little looks in my direction from time to time.
Sam came back in then with a bowl of soup for me. I could smell the oregano and tomatoes and see slivers of mozzarella and croutons in the bowl.
I thanked him and settled in the chair. Asia snuck Elvis another meatball when she thought I wasn’t looking. I was trying to figure how to start the conversation, let alone steer it to the development, when Asia solved the problem for me.
“Sarah, is it true that you bought the old chandelier from Doran’s that used to be right inside the front doors and the people from North by West want to buy it for their project here?”
“It’s true,” I said, chasing a crouton around the bowl with my spoon.
“So that means they really are going to build it, right?” She was still stroking Elvis’s fur. He was curled up on her lap, front paws tucked up under his body.
“Nothing’s decided yet,” Vince said. “I told you that.” I could hear the tension in his voice.
“Your dad’s right,” I said. “Things are still up in the air.”
“Lily’s . . . dead,” Asia said. “She can’t stop everything anymore.”
I nodded. “I know, but Lily felt pretty strongly about not selling the bakery. Whoever she left it to may decide they want to honor her wishes.” I didn’t want to get into the concept of eminent domain with a teenager.
The color rose in Asia’s cheeks. “But that’s not fair,” she said hotly. “Lily’s reasons were her own, and she’s gone now so . . . so everything’s different now.”
“Don’t,” Vince warned. He stopped playing and put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
“Why?” she said, looking from me to her father. “Lily was the reason we couldn’t sell Gramp’s building. I’m sorry she’s dead, but she is, and now there isn’t any reason to not fix up the harbor front.”
“Enough,” Vince said. “You’re being disrespectful.” He didn’t raise his voice, but something in his tone made Asia drop her head. He wiped the side of his mouth with the edge of his hand and leaned Sam’s twelve-string against the couch.
“I get that you’re angry,” I said.
Asia glanced at Vince before she spoke. “If Lily didn’t like all the plans, why didn’t she just move the bakery somewhere else?” she said. “That’s what a lot of people were saying. A lot of them were mad.”
Here was my opening. “You think someone was angry enough to kill her?”
“You mean somebody who lives in North Harbor?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “No way. I know people were pissed but not that pissed.”
I watched Elvis. Asia was stroking his fur as she talked. His eyes were half-closed and he was purring. If he thought Asia was lying, I couldn’t see any sign of it.
Vince nudged his daughter. “Hey, kiddo, would you go get me a refill?” He held out his cup.
“Sure, Dad,” she said. She set Elvis on the floor and took Vince’s mug. “Would you like more coffee, Sarah?” she asked.
“Please.” I handed her my own cup.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
“I know what you’re doing,” Vince said as soon as the office door closed behind Asia. Annoyed that he’d been moved from the warmth of Asia’s lap, Elvis stalked over to me and head butted my leg. I reached down and lifted him onto my lap, where he kneaded my legs with his paws before stretching out.
“I know what you’re doing, too,” I said. “It wasn’t you wearing that wig, was it?”
He looked away and then his gaze came back to me. “I already told you that I was the one who pulled those stunts on Lily. I told Detective Andrews the same thing.” The muscles along his jawline were tight, as though he was grinding his teeth together.
“You made yourself a suspect, Vince,” I said.
“I didn’t have anything to do with Lily’s death.”
“I know. And neither did Asia.”
“So we’re done?” Vince finally said after what seemed like a long silence.
I nodded. It wouldn’t have made sense to anyone else—it didn’t really make sense to me—but somehow Elvis knew when people were lying, and Asia wasn’t. The worst she’d done was play some childish pranks on Lily, which made sense. She wasn’t that far from a child herself.
The office door opened and Asia came back with our coffee. She handed me my mug. “Thanks,” I said.
She smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then she hesitated and took a deep breath. “How did you know it was me?”
“Asia!” Vince said, his voice edged with warning.
She turned around and held out his coffee. “Give it up, Dad,” she said. “I just heard you and Sarah talking.”
“What? You were listening at the door?” He took the mug and got to his feet.
“So that you get pissed about?” she said, rolling her eyes in that way that only an exasperated teenager could do. She turned back to me. “How’d you know?”
“Body shape,” I said. “And I figured out the hair was a wig.”
She nodded and sat on the corner of Sam’s desk. “It was kind of lame of me to try to look like Mr. West. I didn’t want to get him in trouble . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“You just didn’t want to get yourself in trouble, either,” I finished.
Her cheeks got red and she nodded. “Pretty much. I didn’t figure anyone would think anything about him being around.”
Vince put a hand on her shoulder. “Asia, stop talking, please,” he said.
She turned and looked up at him. “What’s the point, Dad? Sarah knows what I did. There’s no point in lying about it.”
“There’s no point in going on about it, either,” he said.
“Just for the record, I didn’t kill her,” Asia said.
Vince swore softly and raked his hand back through his hair.
“Well, I didn’t,” she said, giving him that aggrieved-teenager look again.
“I didn’t think you did,” I said. “But thank you for telling me.”
Asia shrugged. “She caught me.” She hung her head, shame-faced.
“She caught you?” Vince said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Asia gave him an incredulous look. “Right, Dad. There’s a good idea. I should have said, ‘By the way, Daddy, I’ve been breaking into Lily’s Bakery to harass her, and the night she got killed she caught me.’”
Vince blew out a breath.
“What did she do?” I asked.
Asia looked away for a moment.
I waited.
“She yelled at me,” Asia said. “She said she should call the police on me.”
“But she didn’t.”
She shook her head. “She asked me why I’d done all those things to her, and I told her about Gramps. She said she was sorry, but her reasons for not selling were just as important. I asked her what they were, but she said she couldn’t tell me. She said she had family to look after, too.” She shrugged. “I asked her why she couldn’t just move the bakery someplace else, but she said it was complicated. I said that’s what adults always say when they want things their way and they don’t want to explain why. Then I left.”
“What time was that?” I asked.
“I dunno,” she said. “Sometime after midnight.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
She twisted her mouth to one side. “No. Lily was in the kitchen at the back, feeding her starter.”
“Feeding her what?” I asked.
“Her starter. For sourdough bread. You have to feed it regularly or it won’t work right.” She smiled. “My gram used to make that kind of bread, and she’d let me help her feed the starter. It’s basically fermented flour and water. You can keep it going forever if you do it right.” She shrugged sadly. “I guess it’s like Lily now. Dead.”
“I guess it is,” I said.
I picked up Elvis and set him in my gym bag. Then I stood up. “As far as I’m concerned, this conversation stays between us,” I said. I was looking at Asia, but I was really talking to Vince. “You know what you did was really stupid.”
She nodded.
“I’ll walk you out,” Vince said.
I nodded.
He looked at Asia. “Don’t bother listening at the door,” he said.
Her face flooded with color again.
“You satisfied?” he asked once we were back in the hallway.
“I meant what I said in there,” I said.
“So you’re not going to tell Detective Andrews I lied?”
I shook my head. “I’m not even going to tell Sam you lied, but I’m betting he’ll figure it out. As far as I’m concerned, this is done.”
I turned and started for the front door.
“Sarah,” Vince called after me.
I turned.
“Thank you,” he said. I nodded and started for the door again.
Sam was behind the bar. He walked over to me. “Did you get what you needed?” he asked.
I nodded. “I did.” I stretched up and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for supper.”
He smiled. “Anytime.” Then his expression changed. “I don’t know if I need to say this or not, but I’m going to. Whatever else Vince did or didn’t do, he didn’t kill Lily. The night she died, we were all at Eric’s after I closed up. He had a new guitar. We played half the night.”
“I know Vince wouldn’t hurt anyone,” I said. “But thanks for telling me. He’s lucky to have you for a friend.”
Mac tapped on my door at exactly eight o’clock the next morning. “Hi,” he said when I opened the door. “Are you ready?”
“Do you mean ready to go get the truck or ready to be living in the same building as Rose?”
“Both, I guess,” he said with a smile.
I laughed. “I’m ready to get the truck as soon as I grab my jacket, and I don’t think I’m ever going to be completely ready to live with Rose.”
“She’s a great cook,” he said. His mouth twitched. “Maybe on Sunday morning Alfred will come out in his bathrobe and bring you a plate of Rose’s waffles.”
“Not listening,” I said. I put my fingers in my ears and started humming.
Mac just laughed, and when I looked at Elvis, perched on one of the stools at the counter, it seemed to me that he was laughing, too. I made a face at Mac and took my fingers out of my ears. “Now how am I going to look Mr. P. in the eye when I see him?”
Mac folded one arm over his chest and pressed the other hand over his mouth.
“What?” I said. “You want to say something, so you may as well go ahead and do it.”
“You want to know how you’re going to look Alfred in the eye?” he asked. “How about just lean down the way you usually do?”
“You’re so not funny,” I said, but I was laughing, which pretty much negated what I’d just said.
We picked up the truck at McNamara’s and then I drove over and picked up Charlotte. She was carrying two thermoses and a quilted tote bag. She climbed in the cab of the truck and set the bag carefully on the floor mat before she fastened her seat belt.
“I smell cinnamon,” I said.
“That’s because I made cinnamon rolls.”
“You’re my favorite person in the entire world,” I said as I pulled away from the curb.
“Funny how you always remember to tell me that when I have cinnamon rolls,” she said with a smile.
“Just a happy coincidence,” I said, working hard to keep a straight face.
Liz and Avery were just arriving as we pulled up in front of Legacy Place.
“I’m here,” Liz said as I joined them on the sidewalk. “And I ate scrambled tofu, which I do not intend to ever eat again.”
“It’s good for you, Nonna,” Avery said.
“At my age I don’t want good for me,” Liz groused. “I just want good.”
“Eating a healthy diet can add years to your life,” Avery retorted, a tad self-righteously.
“It doesn’t really add years to your life,” Liz retorted. “It just feels like that because it takes years to chew the darn stuff.”
I laid my head on her shoulder. “Charlotte has cinnamon rolls,” I whispered in her ear.
Liz smiled and rubbed her hands together. “Let’s go, people,” she said. “Rose is waiting. Charlotte, let me help you carry something.”
Rose and Mr. P. were waiting in Rose’s third-floor apartment. There were boxes in every room labeled in Alfred’s angular printing.
“Good morning, everyone,” Rose said when she answered the door. “Alfred was just going to take my bed apart, and that’s the last thing to do.”
Mac shot me a look. “I’ll go see if he needs any help,” he said.
Glenn had loaned me a small wheeled platform, about four feet by three feet. I rolled it into the kitchen.
“Do you want to start in here?” I asked Rose.
She nodded. “Wherever you think, dear,” she said.
“Okay. Furniture goes in the truck and boxes in the SUV.” I handed Liz the loop of rope that acted as a handle for the makeshift dolly. “Let Avery do the heavy lifting.”
“Rose and I could carry down the towels and the bedding,” Charlotte said. “Shall we use the backseat of the SUV?”
I nodded. “I’m going to see how Mac and Alfred are doing.”
Mac was just taking off the second side rail on Rose’s iron bed frame. “I’ll help you carry this down,” Mr. P. said.
“I was kind of hoping you’d supervise Avery putting boxes in my SUV,” I said. “I mean, if you don’t mind. I don’t want her to break anything.”
He smiled. “Of course. I don’t mind at all.” He headed for the kitchen.
“Does this mean you’re my muscle?” Mac asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Let’s do it,” I said. I grabbed one end of the metal headboard and he picked up the other.
“Thanks for giving up your Sunday to do this,” I said as we started for the kitchen. “There have to be a lot of other things you could be doing.”
Avery and Mr. P. were just heading out the door on their way to the elevator with a precarious-looking pile of boxes on the dolly and Alfred draped over them like he was trying to hug the whole stack.
“We’re good,” I heard him say as we cleared the doorway.
Mac smiled at me. “What else could I be doing that would be more . . . interesting than being here?” he said.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
We had the truck and the SUV loaded before ten o’clock. We made an odd little parade on the way over to the house with Liz’s car driven by Avery in the lead, a pile of curtains in the backseat, followed by Charlotte and me in the cube truck and Mac with Rose and Mr. P. in the SUV full of boxes bringing up the rear. Everyone had to have a tour of the apartment, and then we stopped for hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls. Even so, we had everything upstairs by lunchtime.
“How about grilled cheese and tomato soup for lunch?” I said when the last box came in.
“Were you going to cook?” Charlotte asked, exchanging a look with Liz. “Because you don’t have to do that. Really.”
“I know I don’t have to,” I said. “But you’ve all worked so hard. You must be hungry.”
“I think it’s a little early for lunch,” Rose said.
“Sarah’s teasing you,” Mr. P. said. “She’s not cooking. I am.”
“Thank you, Lord,” Liz said. “That scrambled tofu stuff was starting to look good.”
“You can buy tofu cheese,” Avery chimed in.
“Fascinating,” Mr. P. said. “How are you at buttering bread?”
Elvis was waiting for us, perched on the top of the cat tower. Everyone exclaimed over the quality of Alfred’s work.
Mr. P. and Avery washed their hands and then I showed them where everything was.
“Everything’s under control,” the old man said to me. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“Can I help?” Rose said behind me.
“We’re fine, my dear,” Alfred said. “Why don’t you take a break for a minute?”
I steered Rose over to my rocking chair. “Wasn’t this your grandmother’s?” she asked.
I nodded. “It was in my dad’s nursery when he was a baby.”
She sat down in the wooden chair and leaned back against the pillow Jess had made for me. “I remember sitting in this chair with your father when he was about a year old,” she said. “He was such a beautiful baby. So good-natured.” She reached up and gave my hand a squeeze.
Mr. P. and Avery served grilled-cheese sandwiches toasted golden brown and cut into long fingers for dipping in our tomato-rice soup. Everything was delicious, far better than if I’d tried to cook, which is what I told them.
“We really need to speed up your cooking lessons,” Rose said.
“It’s a losing battle,” I said. “But I’m willing to keep going if you are.”
Charlotte left after lunch. She was making supper for all of us back at her house. I took the truck back to McNamara’s lot and Mac followed to drive me back.
“Thank you for your help,” I said to Mac. “It would have taken a lot longer without you.”
“I don’t mind,” he said. “Like I said before, I like Rose.”
“Are you coming to Charlotte’s for supper?”
He shook his head. “I already told Charlotte thank you, but I have plans.”
“I’ll miss you . . . I mean, we’ll miss you,” I said.
Mac smiled. “Another time.” He tucked his scarf a little tighter at the neck of his coat. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he said.
By four o’clock Rose’s apartment look pretty good. Mr. P. left with Liz and Avery to get cleaned up. We were all meeting at Charlotte’s at five. I stood in the middle of the kitchen with Rose.
She turned to me, her eyes bright. “I don’t know how to say thank you, sweet girl,” she said.
“Just be happy here,” I said.
She hugged me.
Back in my own apartment I showered while Elvis did a circuit of the backyard. I had no idea what he did on his little tours of the yard—he had a litter box inside—but he insisted on prowling around back there once a day no matter how cold it was.
About a quarter to five I got my canvas tote. “Hop in,” I said to him. “I’ve been instructed to bring you.”
“Bring Elvis with you,” Charlotte had said at lunch. “I have a little something special for him.”
The cat had been sitting on Avery’s lap, but he’d smiled across the table at Charlotte as though he’d understood every word she’d said—and for all I knew maybe he had.
Nick was setting the table when we got to the house.
“Hi,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and jeans, and for a moment I could see the teenage boy I’d had a major crush on.
“I stopped in to see Mom and I was invited for supper, provided I earn my keep.”
I reached for a pile of napkins on Charlotte’s sideboard and handed them to him as he worked his way around the table.
“How’s Lily’s case coming?” I asked.
“Our part is almost finished. You know about Vince?” he asked, lowering his voice a little.
“I do.”
Nick shook his head. “Hard to believe.”
“When people get desperate they do things they wouldn’t otherwise even think about.” I handed him the last napkin. “Nick, Vince didn’t kill Lily,” I said.
“I really hope you’re right,” he said.
“He was with Sam and Eric and some other people making music half the night at Eric’s place after the pub closed.”
I saw a flash of relief cross Nick’s face. Vince was in the clear, and as far as I was concerned, so was Asia. Which meant we still didn’t know who had killed Lily.