Twenty-Two

I was itching to return to the book, but Den stayed longer. I confess, I couldn’t have written a word if I wanted to—not with all that maleness in my space.

“Hey, ah, I got your message about your grandmother,” he said, spreading his arms across the back of the couch. I want to slip right in there between his arm and chest. But not under the watchful eye of Kate. He caught me checking out his arms and his eyes lit up.

“And?” Kate said, interrupting the silent exchange.

“Well, I called the chief of police on Cloister Island and talked with him a while. They’ll be on the alert for Walters and it’s not necessary for you to go back to the island. Besides, you’ve got work to do here, right?” His eyebrow lifted.

“I can do my job most anywhere,” I said. “My mom sent me most of my stuff, so I’m set. And there’s this ongoing murder investigation …”

“All that and we’re still waiting for the actual will reading,” Kate said. “Do you believe it?” Her mouth puckered and twisted. “Some people.”

“A little problem with Justine’s relatives?”

“No, the law firm lost the updates to her will.” I sat on the chair next to the couch.

“That’s a first,” Den said. “Losing a will?”

I nodded. Just then my phone buzzed. “Excuse me,” I said, looking at the number. Damn, it was Lucille. I allowed it to go to my voicemail. Did I need another call from her checking on the manuscript? I’d just spoken with her yesterday about the extension. What was the problem? Did she not trust me? Did she not know I’d done a lot of Justine’s work before she passed away?

“I can let it go,” I said waving my fingers.

“Listen, I’m about ready to head back down to Layla’s,” he said.

“What for?”

“I’m checking in there with the staff I haven’t gotten a chance to interview before. I keep feeling there’s something we overlooked. It might help if you come with me. We can walk you through what you saw and heard.”

“That’s a great idea,” Kate said. “I’ll come too. Let me get my purse.” She walked to the dining table, where her purse was flung across a chair.

Den grinned and shrugged. “It’s fine with me.” Then he twisted his hand around and gestured as if to say, What gives?

I shot him my best Who cares? smile.

∞

It had been a full week since I’d been at the scene of Justine’s murder. From the minute I walked in, I tried to tamp down the darkness creeping into my chest. The scent of jasmine, orange, and saffron would forever remind me of death. And of losing Justine.

“Are you okay?” Den asked.

I nodded. “I’ll be fine.” But my voice came out as a strangled whisper. Who was I trying to convince—him or me?

“Sergeant Brophy, we’ve been expecting you,” Alfredo said. “Madam Donovan.”

“Nice to see you.”

He led us to Justine’s private booth, where a pot of mint tea and honey cakes awaited.

“This is lovely,” Kate said. “Thank you.”

I stood dumbfounded, strange emotions pulling at me. This was the table, and that was the tea and that was the cake. The same thing served to me on the day Justine was murdered.

“I need to interview a few of the staff and I’ll be right back to talk with you,” Den said, then turned to Alfredo and said, “Thanks for the list of members who were here. I appreciate it.”

The two of them walked into the back room, and I flashed to a memory of waking up there.

“Sit down, girl,” Kate said. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” She was sitting in the exact same spot Justine had sat.

“This is the exact table we sat at. Where she died.” Where I’d held her until the paramedics pulled her from me. Where, I swear, I’d felt the cold like never before.

Kate grimaced. “I didn’t know that. But look. They’ve laid such a lovely table for us. I’m sorry. The memory of this place and this table must be awful.”

I sat down, wilting into myself. “Yes, it is. I wasn’t prepared for this.”

Kate poured the tea. Steam curled upward as she slid the cup to me. “Drink your tea. It will do you good.”

She reached for a honey cake, which I usually ate with abandon, but my stomach was doing its own thing and I wasn’t going to push it. I held the drink to my lips and drew in the scent of the tea.

“The tea is tasty,” Kate said. “Peppermint is good for you, or so I hear. Good for your stomach, your sinuses.”

We sat there for what seemed like forever, drinking tea. The murmurs of the other tea drinkers were present, but in the distance in my mind. The servers bee-bopping around with trays. Music playing softly in the background, which allowed customers to talk.

“Hey,” Den said as he came up beside me, along with Alfredo.

I gazed in his direction.

“You’re in the same exact spot, right?”

“Yes.” My throat squeezed as I poured more tea.

“Okay, now you’re here, can you remember anything else odd about the day Justine was killed?”

After a few moments, I closed my eyes. “It was packed that day. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it that crowded. As I came through the crowd, I thought someone grabbed my purse. Then told myself it caught on something.”

Why hadn’t I recalled that before?

“Fascinating. Do you remember exactly where that was in the tea room?”

“Yes.” I nodded in the direction. “It was almost right in the center. You see where the lady dressed in purple and black is? Right there.”

“Good,” Den said, turning to Alfredo. “Can I get more security footage from you, ones focused on that area?”

“Absolutely. Shall I send them to your email?”

Den nodded. “Yeah. The same email address.”

“Success?” Kate said and lifted her tea cup.

“Yeah, I hoped this exercise would lead us somewhere,” he said. “Are you okay?”

I checked myself. My queasiness had disappeared. I reached for a honey cake. My heart raced, but in a good way. “I’m fine. I’m not getting my hopes up. But I feel great about helping out.”