24

Manny was gone by the time I woke up. I vaguely recalled him giving me a goodbye kiss on the cheek, but I was so out of it, I wasn’t sure if it had actually happened, or if it was a dream. I’d lain awake most of the night, waiting for the window breaker to return, though he never did show again. I finally dozed off just before sunrise.

To say I was tired would be an understatement. But I didn’t let it stop me. I scarfed down breakfast, and then grabbed the phone, ready to get to work.

“Hi, Sue,” I said when my call was answered. “Good news! I have Stewie, the Pomeranian, for you, if you’re still interested?”

Sue gasped in happy surprise. “Oh, Liz, thank you! I am. When can we get him?”

“He still has to pass all his tests, but I’m pretty sure it won’t be any more than a day or two. If you want to see him before then, I can arrange a get-together whenever you’d like.”

“No, that’s all right, I can wait. I’m not sure I could resist taking him home with me if I were to see him.” She laughed.

“I’ll call you as soon as all the test results are in.”

“Thank you, Liz. We’re both so excited to meet him. I think it’ll do us both a lot of good.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will. Tell Barry I said hi.”

“Will do.”

We clicked off.

I was thrilled to start my day off on such a high note. Sue and Barry Lincoln would make good pet parents for Stewie, even if he was older than they were—in dog years, that was. Hearing the joy in someone’s voice when they learn they’ll be taking in a new pet is part of the reason why I did what I did.

Speaking of Stewie, I found him lying next to a dozing Wheels, and took him out into the backyard to let him take care of his business. As he sniffed around the yard, I considered what I needed to do today. Calling someone to fix the window was high on the list, as was making sure I’d gotten all the glass when I’d swept last night. I didn’t need Wheels stepping on a missed shard and injuring one of her front paws. The same went for Stewie.

Once the dog was done and ready to go back inside, I took him back to Wheels, and then checked around the window. The glass was gone, both inside and outside. I did put on a pair of gloves and wiggled a few loose shards from the windowsill before boarding it back up. I didn’t want one of them falling out while I wasn’t around to clean it up.

Satisfied, I made a quick call to a contractor I knew, arranged for them to stop by later, and then grabbed my keys and purse. I wasn’t about to sit around and wait for them to show; not when there was something else I was desperate to do.

I started for the door.

“Where are you going?”

I nearly jumped straight out of my shoes. I spun to find Amelia standing in the hallway, hand on her hip in a way that was a spitting image of me—and before me, my own mother.

“Don’t you have class today?” I asked, masking my embarrassment by asking a question.

“I took the day off,” she said. “Are you heading out?”

“For just an hour or so,” I said. “I thought I might check in on Ben and make sure he’s doing okay.”

Amelia’s eyes widened briefly before she held up a finger. “Hold on one sec.” She spun and vanished back down the hall.

She returned only a few seconds later, her backpack thrown over one shoulder.

“I’m coming with you,” she said, her tone saying she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Honestly, I’d be glad for the company.

“Let me call Lenore,” I said, taking out my phone and hitting her number. While I’d been content to let Stewie have the run of the house a few minutes ago, now that Amelia was coming with me, I was hoping we’d be out longer than the hour I’d planned for. “Maybe we can get lunch afterward,” I told her as my phone rang.

Amelia nodded and waited while I asked Lenore if she could doggie sit. The older woman was more than happy to, and promised to be right over.

“How did you sleep last night?” I asked Amelia when I hung up.

“All right, I guess.” From the bags under her eyes, I could tell that was a lie.

I didn’t call her on it, however. All things considered, losing a little sleep was far better than the alternative. Thinking of Stewie’s warning barks, I grabbed him a treat and gave it to him, once more thanking him for being so vigilant.

“We should get a dog,” Amelia said, likely thinking along the same lines as me. “A permanent one. If he hadn’t barked last night . . .”

“I know.” I rubbed him behind his ears, and told him how good of a dog he was. He soaked up the attention.

I took a few minutes to set out some things for Lenore so she wouldn’t have to look for treats for the animals, or a snack for herself. I was just finishing up when she arrived.

“Where is he?” she asked the moment the door was open.

Introductions only took a few minutes, with Lenore immediately cooing over the Pomeranian. I don’t think she heard half of what I’d said, she was so taken with him. Stewie was just as happy as she was, if not more so. He yapped twice, spun in a circle, and then promptly rolled onto his back, if not a little stiffly. Lenore gave him the belly rub he was asking for.

Amelia and I left them to it, and got into the van. A moment later, and we were on the way.

We remained silent during the drive, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Worry kept working through me, and an urge to call the house to make sure Lenore was okay hit me every mile or two. Nothing said the intruder hadn’t been watching the house, waiting for an opportunity to strike again. Now that we were gone, and all that was there was a little old woman, he could easily make his move.

Stop it, Liz, I silently reprimanded myself. She’ll be fine. Paranoia didn’t suit me.

I pulled into the police station lot, a bundle of nerves. It had only been a couple of days since Ben had been taken in, yet it already felt like a lifetime. I wasn’t sure I could take it much longer, and I wasn’t even the one who was locked up. I didn’t even want to think about how he must be feeling.

Amelia and I headed inside, immediately bumping into an exhausted-looking Detective Cavanaugh, who appeared as if he was about to leave. His eyes tightened and his mouth pressed into a fine line when he saw me.

“Did something else happen?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “But thank you for coming out last night. I’ve never had anything like that happen before. I was afraid he was going to come back.”

“He didn’t,” Cavanaugh said, leaning against the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright. “I had a car drive by every few hours. As far as I can tell, whoever tried to break in is long gone. I doubt they will try again.”

“I hope so.”

Cavanaugh rubbed at his chin, eyes going from me, to Amelia. “Is there something I can do for you ladies?” he asked. By his tone, I think he already knew what we wanted.

“We’d like to see Ben,” I said. “Just to talk and make sure he’s doing okay.”

Cavanaugh remained silent as he regarded the two of us. I could tell he was thinking about it, but wasn’t sure whether or not he should relent. As it stood now, Ben was a murder suspect, and I was sure there were rules against letting people come and go as they pleased.

“Please, Detective,” Amelia said. “I haven’t seen my brother since before you arrested him.” She gave him puppy dog eyes, which had me nearly in tears.

Cavanaugh heaved a heavy sigh and pushed away from the wall. “All right, I suppose at this point, it can’t hurt. But don’t expect this to keep happening.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead, all he said was, “Wait here,” before he turned and walked away, rubbing at the back of his neck as he went.

I was hoping his willingness to let us see Ben meant most of the pressure was off him, and that Detective Cavanaugh had a new top suspect, not that he was giving us one last visit before locking him up for good.

The police station was buzzing with a low level of activity. A few cops paused to look at us, but no one approached. I didn’t see Officer Mohr anywhere, or even Officer Perry. I missed the familiar faces, especially since I was standing there with all those eyes watching us. It made me feel like a criminal.

Thankfully, Detective Cavanaugh returned a few short minutes later. “This way,” he said, motioning for Amelia and me to follow.

He took us down the same hallway as the last time I’d visited, but instead of taking us to the same room as before, he opened another door. The room was larger than the last one, but not by much. It held a table and a few chairs that were pushed around it haphazardly, as if a group of people had recently sat there and all got up and walked out at once. A whiteboard was pushed against the wall. A few stray black marks were all that was visible on it.

A meeting room? I wondered, and then shook off the thought when Ben rose from one of the chairs, holding his arms wide. I rushed in for an all too brief hug. I stepped aside and Amelia took my place, surprising everyone by wrapping her brother in a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Ben said, sitting back down. He wiped at his eyes, a sad smile on his face. Amelia took the chair next to him, while I took one across the table. Cavanaugh closed the door, but remained inside, as expected.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

“Better,” Ben said. “It’s hard, but they’re treating me all right. Mr. Ives has been in to see me a few times already. He thinks I’ve got a good chance of walking away from this.”

I glanced at Cavanaugh and was surprised to see compassion in his eye. He might think Ben capable of murder, but he still thought of him as human, with a family. It was sometimes easy to forget that when something like this happens.

“Have they charged you yet?” Amelia asked.

Ben looked to the detective, who didn’t respond in anyway. “I don’t think so.”

“They can’t hold you for much longer if they don’t, I think,” she said, sounding uncertain. “There’s only a certain amount of time you can be held without being charged before they are forced to let you go.”

“I’ve discussed this with the detective,” I said to her. And then, to Ben, “He said last night it might only be a day more.”

“Unless he charges you,” Amelia said, crushing my hopes that Ben might be home by tomorrow. “If that happens . . .” Her jaw tightened as she looked down at her hands.

“I’m okay, sis,” Ben said. “I mean it. It was hard at first, but I’m getting used to it.”

Amelia snorted. “Liking prison life, are you?” she asked. “And to think, all this for a girl.”

“Hey,” he said. “She’s pretty hot.”

Amelia rolled her eyes.

It made my heart ache seeing them like this. It was good to see they both still had their senses of humor, but darn it, they should be joking with one another at home, not here, not with Ben’s life on the line.

And to make matters worse, I had to break him of any notion that he had a chance with Selena.

“She has a boyfriend,” I said, feeling like a horrible person for telling him.

Ben’s smile faded, before he shrugged. “I guess I’m not surprised. A girl that good-looking can’t be single.”

“I take offense to that, you know,” Amelia said.

“Yeah, yeah. Gag.” Ben stuck his tongue out at his sister, and then turned to me. “I should have known better. But when we were together, she never said anything about having a boyfriend, so it never crossed my mind to ask.”

“You were probably too busy ogling her,” Amelia said.

Especially with her in that bikini, I thought, but didn’t say it. “It’s okay, Ben,” I said. And then, because I felt guilty for making his bad day worse, “She did say she and her boyfriend are having troubles. There’s a chance they may break up soon.”

Ben grinned. “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t mind stopping by her place and swimming with her a few more times. She does look good in a bikini.”

“Swimming?” Amelia asked. “You went swimming?”

“Yeah. We talked for a little bit, and then got into the pool. We raced a few times, and kinda wrestled around a little.” His face reddened. “Afterward, we crashed in the deck chairs and let the sun dry us off. I think we both dozed off, it was so relaxing.”

“You didn’t have your trunks,” I said, lamely. Never in my life could I imagine showing up at a stranger’s house and getting into a pool with them. Ben definitely took after his dad in that regard.

“She had a spare pair,” Ben said.

“And you didn’t think that was weird?” Amelia asked.

Ben shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have by then. She let me get changed in her bedroom, and then we went swimming. That was all I was focused on at the time. If you would have seen her . . .” He waggled his eyebrows, which drew a groan from Amelia.

“Wait,” I said. “You got changed?”

“Well, duh. I wasn’t going to get my clothes wet.”

Amelia’s eyes met my own. She was thinking the same thing as I was.

“Where did you leave your shirt?” I asked.

“In the bedroom,” Ben said. “Why?”

“Did you put it on while you were sunbathing?” Amelia asked.

“No, what would be the point?” Ben said. “I didn’t get dressed again until I heard the commotion going on next door.”

Which meant, his shirt was lying in Selena’s bedroom, unattended for a good twenty minutes, if not longer.

Enough time for someone to sneak in, put it on, kill Timothy, and then sneak back and drop it off ?

I thought it likely. But who? And why go to all that trouble?

“Ben, you idiot!” Amelia was saying. “Why didn’t you tell someone this before?”

“I did!” he said, and then, quieter, eyes going to Cavanaugh, who looked extremely interested in the conversation, “Well, I think I did.”

I rose, turning to the detective. “Do you know what this means?” I asked, voice pitched excitedly.

“It might mean nothing,” he said, speaking carefully.

“Someone could have come in and stolen the shirt,” I said, just in case he hadn’t figured that out on his own. “When Clarence saw someone sneak into Timothy’s house, wearing Ben’s shirt, it wasn’t Ben!”

“Maybe,” Cavanaugh said. “But who would have done something like that?”

“Jason,” I said. “Selena’s boyfriend.” I snapped my fingers, trying to remember his last name. “Jason Maxwell. He must have taken it. He could have been there the entire time, hiding in another room while Ben and Selena were swimming.” I remembered hearing him inside Selena’s house the day of the murder, when she’d said it was a cat. “He could have planned the whole thing!”

“Mrs. Denton,” Cavanaugh said, but I wasn’t going to listen to him tell me my theory wasn’t worth considering. I knew it had holes, but it made far more sense to me than Ben killing a man he barely knew.

“Come on, Amelia.” I glanced back at Ben. “I’ll be back soon. Hang in there.” I marched past Cavanaugh, and out the door.

Amelia followed after me, calling, “Mom, wait!” but I didn’t stop until we were in the parking lot, standing outside the van. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“He doesn’t believe him,” I said. “The detective thinks Ben’s lying.” Or he thinks I’m reaching, which I honestly might be, but at least there was something to go on now.

“We can convince him otherwise,” Amelia said. “I’ve been learning a lot about law and procedure lately. I’m sure we can figure out how to make him understand and act.”

“I know you have, honey.” I opened the van door. “But I have a feeling we need more than a theory to convince Detective Cavanaugh.”

“What?” Amelia scrambled over to the passenger’s side and got in as I started up the van. “Where are we going?”

I smiled at her and backed out of the parking lot. Detective Cavanaugh was standing outside the station, arms crossed, watching me with concern. He had to know I was up to something, yet he wasn’t making a move to stop me.

A good sign? Or was he hoping I’d hang myself out to dry and prove myself to be Timothy’s killer?

“You’ll see,” I told Amelia, dismissing Cavanaugh out of my mind, and pulling onto the street. “Just follow my lead. I have a plan.”