Paige stared at her plate. “Don’t forget Nick Jones was at the store when I left.”
I glanced at Jake. “He’s the exterminator.”
“Got it. You mentioned him before.”
I found Nick’s name in my notes. “It’d be interesting to know if Nick and Willow had issues. But Nick has been infatuated with Paige for a while.”
Jake looked at Paige. “I take it you’re not interested in dating Nick?”
Cowboy walked over to his water bowl and lapped it dry.
Paige said, “No, and I’ve asked him repeatedly to back off. He keeps asking me out and making inappropriate comments.”
“Jake, you should know Nick’s first wife died mysteriously.” I popped a grape into my mouth.
“If he’s as dangerous as you two are insinuating, why do you have him handle your pest control?”
Paige shrugged. “I’m afraid to change.”
Jake frowned. “That’s not good. Do you think he’s stalking you?”
“I don’t think so, but isn’t that part of being a stalker? Your victim doesn’t know you’re watching?”
“Some stalkers want you to be aware. It gives them a powerful feeling to scare their prey.”
Beside Nick’s name on my tablet, I struck the question mark key. “Nick could’ve accidentally killed Willow, thinking he was going after Paige. If he’s guilty, we don’t know of any other motive.”
“Correct.” Paige reached for a slice of Lyoner with olives and peppers and two little slices of rye bread. “I think it’s more likely to be Vince who killed Willow. With her death, he probably remains in charge of the bank even though her family started it.”
I documented her words on my app. “I wonder why we haven’t seen Willow’s family?”
Jake said, “I met her mother and brother at the coffee shop. They were heading to meet Willow’s kids, Christine and Blake. Right?”
Paige nodded. “That’s right. I met Willow’s family many years ago, but it’s doubtful they remember me.”
I stopped taking notes. “I saw the kids the other night, but Vince’s parents were at the house with them. With the divorce coming up, I’m sure it’s a sticky situation between Willow’s family and Vince. Jake, how did you know those people were related to Willow?”
“They each ordered coffee, then got into a big discussion about what the kids would like to drink. I suggested the fruit smoothie that’s popular with the youth around here, so they ordered two.” He bit into his sandwich.
“Anything else?”
“I offered my condolences and mentioned how we were the ones who found Willow’s body.” He pointed his finger between himself and me.
“Wow, I doubt I’d have had the nerve to confess that to the family.” I took a drink.
“Why? We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah, but still.” Guilt niggled my conscience. If I’d gotten there a few minutes earlier, would Willow still be alive? Like background music in a coffee shop, the accusation was constantly on my mind.
Paige dropped her carrot. “Did they mention me?”
Jake ran a hand across his mouth. “Kinda. They know Willow was working for you, but they didn’t accuse you of killing her. The mother was weepy, and the brother was stoic. I think his name is Cal.”
“Cal Hoffman.” I met Jake’s gaze. “Who do they think killed Willow?”
“Vince. They asked my opinion, and I confessed how new I am to the area.” He fixed another little sandwich with the cocktail-sized rye bread. “These are good.”
My stomach growled, and I reached for a chunk of cheese. “Thanks. Eat as much as you like. We canceled our book club meeting tonight.”
Paige finished her sandwich and reached for a slice of ham and crackers. I’d never seen her eat so much at once. The stress must be getting to her.
We ate in silence for the next few minutes, and Cowboy lay on the floor between Jake and me.
I finished and moved my plate to the side. “Jake, did you learn anything else from Willow’s family that might be useful?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” Jake scooted his chair back and stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles with his top foot bouncing. “I gave them my phone number in case they wanted to talk or had questions.”
“Okay. I’d like to hear more about why they think Vince is guilty. His parents were so pleasant. Zig Meier told me that Vince runs with movers and shakers, or something like that. I’ve never seen Vince get angry or rude. In fact, he’s always been nice when I’ve been around.”
Paige leaned forward. “As long as you’re not married to him, he’s fine. Willow and I weren’t besties, but we were friends even though the police are looking at me for committing the crime. Vince’s philandering ways hurt her.”
I returned to taking notes. “Um, did she think he did a good job running the bank?”
Paige sighed. “I guess so. He provided his family with a nice home and lots of extras. Vacations, country club membership, good clothes, and things like that. He was also able to afford an apartment to live in plus keep up house payments when he moved out.”
My ears tingled. “He has an apartment?”
“I mean, probably. Where else would he live?” Paige shredded her napkin into thin strips.
Jake said, “There’s an extended-stay hotel between here and Waco, or he could be living with his latest girlfriend, assuming he really has a woman on the side.”
Paige tossed the demolished napkin to the side and broke her cracker in half. “The rumor is she’s not from around here.”
“Again, we’re all assuming Vince is having an affair. What if it’s only a rumor?” Jake’s tenor voice questioned us without sounding accusatory.
“He’s done it before.” Paige ate the cracker.
The urge to doodle struck me, and I pulled a notepad out of a drawer. When I couldn’t pull weeds or work in the garden, drawing was a great way to relieve tension, and solving the murder was stressful. “I wonder why she stayed with him all these years? And if she put up with him this long, why not wait until the kids left home?”
“Like I said, we used to be close before I asked for her help getting a loan.” Paige reached for another napkin and tore a strip. “Willow wanted to stay together for the sake of the kids, but it got to be too much of an emotional strain.”
Jake unfolded his legs and leaned forward. “Story as old as time.”
I sketched Paige’s ring. “Was there a pre-nuptial agreement? How did he know he’d lose his job when they divorced?”
“It was part of the contract for his executive position with the bank. All executives must live respectable lives. No affairs. No drugs. No gambling. That kind of thing.”
I nodded. “Faith said the same thing.”
Jake asked, “Why didn’t she help you get the loan?”
“Willow used to run the bank. Her dad was the youngest of the brothers, and the last living sibling. When Willow’s dad died, she bought the cousins out and took control. Although family is still involved, like maybe on the board or something.”
“Sounds like she was smart.” Jake rubbed his chin. “What about her brother? Did he want to be more involved?”
Paige quit shredding the napkin. “He’s a doctor and not interested in running the bank full time. Willow has a good head for business. She gave me some solid tips about my bookstore. I shouldn’t have gotten upset with her.”
I patted Paige’s hand. “It’s understandable. Your business is in trouble, and you’ve poured your heart and soul into it.”
“Still, friendships should be more important than the store.” Paige hopped up so fast her chair fell over. “I didn’t handle the rejection well.”
“What do you mean?” I dreaded her answer.
“There may be some horrible text messages on Willow’s phone from me. I was terrified of losing everything I own. The only way I could see to save it all was for the bank to give me a loan. I wasn’t myself. If she didn’t erase the messages, and the police see them, I’m doomed.”
Jake said, “It’s possible to retrieve deleted texts.”
“I was afraid of that. I’ve gotta go.” She hurried away.
I followed her to the door and handed her the rain jacket. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this darkness. The truth will come out.”
“I hope you’re right, Emma. It’s hard to believe right now.” She walked to the driveway and took off in her sedan.
I returned to the kitchen, where Jake was clearing the table. “Oh, thanks, but you didn’t have to do that.”
“No problem. I thought you and Paige might need a moment alone.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Do you have plastic containers for the leftovers?”
“Yeah.” I pulled them out of my hidden pantry.
“Hey, that’s pretty slick. I thought you had regular cabinets there.” Jake walked over and looked into the pantry. “Perfect hiding place.”
I laughed. “It’s the perfect place to hide my junk so the kitchen looks neat.”
“It’d also be a good place to hide if somebody breaks into your home.”
Chills covered my body, and I stepped into the brightly lit kitchen. “Let’s hope it never comes to that.”
“True. How many people know about this?” He stepped into the space and turned around.
“Abby, of course. Sophie and my sister both know. My brother doesn’t have a clue, but we’re not that close. There are no windows, so it’s my shelter during tornado warnings. I like how it flows with the kitchen design and disguises the fact it’s a small room. Anyway, you’re now one of the privileged few who know my secret.” Sophie was my best friend, and she and my sister had always stood by me. There wasn’t much they didn’t know about me, and I wasn’t sure how I would’ve survived without the two of them.
Cowboy barked.
“I probably should take him for a walk. Do you want to join us?”
“Sure thing.” He re-entered the kitchen and shut the pantry door, admiring the craftsmanship. “This is very impressive.”
“You’re right. I guess you can add the construction guy who remodeled this place to the list of people who know about the pantry.”
“Let’s walk your dog and discuss something more pleasant than murder. Are you a baseball fan?”
“I can watch it with other people and understand the game, but I’d never turn on a game if I’m home alone. Reading a good book or watching a mystery on TV is more my speed.” I leashed Cowboy, and we took him out the front door, making sure to lock it behind us. Even though I had a secret pantry, there was no way I wanted to use it for a hiding place. “That was quite the bombshell Paige dropped on us.”
“About the text messages? Yeah, and I’m sure Matt will discover them. It’s one thing to argue about something, but to have evidence of the debate on your phone is bad.”
“I’ve got to help her find the real killer. What are your thoughts on Nick Jones?”
“I plan to see if Brett uses him at the coffee shop. If so, I’ll arrange to have a conversation with the man.”
“Do you believe he’s the killer?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I’d like to speak to him. Scaring women isn’t acceptable where I come from.”
I paused for Cowboy to sniff around a street sign. “You really are a man of integrity, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but most can’t be repeated in front of a lady.”
I shook my head. “You need to learn to take a compliment.”
Jake ran a hand over his mouth, then laughed. “Thank you, Emma.”
“You’re welcome.” In two days, my opinion of Jake Hunter had transformed. How many times would I change my mind about who the killer was?