Officer Wilcox arrived within a half hour with a fluffy brown dog that looked unsurprisingly like a teddy bear. He was small and brown and groomed to look round in the face, like a baby bear. A middle-aged woman with short curly brown hair that was slowly fading to gray was carrying him in her arms. Beneath her long wool coat, she was wearing a black service dress with a white apron, and Lindsey recognized her as their neighbor Liz Lyons, who was employed as the Briggs’s housekeeper.
“Liz, hi,” Lindsey greeted her.
Liz glanced up from the dog. She looked wary until she recognized Lindsey and Sully, and then a smile broke across her lips. “Hey, you two. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hi, Liz,” Sully said.
“I was just talking to Ray the other night about how much I’m looking forward to your wedding,” she said. “It is going to be the highlight of the month.”
Lindsey forced herself to smile. It seemed weird to think about her wedding now. Given that Steve was a friend who would have been there. Heck, he was the one who was going to perform the ceremony. She froze. She felt like a jerk for thinking it, given the circumstances, but who was going to marry them now?
Teddy squirmed in her arms, and when Liz put the dog down, Lindsey noticed he was wearing a blue and white Fair Isle Christmas sweater that had a repeating pattern of snowflakes on it. He glanced up at her with his little tongue hanging out. He was ridiculously adorable.
“All right, your highness,” Liz said. She glanced up at them. “He really is a love, but a bit spoiled. Have you seen Mrs. Briggs? Officer Kirkland wouldn’t tell us why we were to meet her here.”
“She’s—” Emma began, but was interrupted.
“Teddy, is that you? Oh, my little sweet pea, come to Mommy. There’s a good boy.” Jamie’s head appeared in Emma’s doorway.
Teddy’s ears perked up, and he bolted for her. Realizing that the conversation was over, Liz smiled at them as she hurried after the dog. Lindsey noted she was carrying a backpack with a pattern of dog paws all over it much like a new mother carries a diaper bag.
Jamie stepped out into the hallway and bent over. When Teddy reached her, she scooped him up and planted kisses all over his head. He licked her chin with his little pink tongue, and she gave him a weak smile.
Lindsey had always believed that dogs were a good judge of character. Assuming Teddy was like most dogs, then that was a point in Jamie’s favor, which was good, because with her lack of interest in her husband’s demise, she didn’t have a lot going for her.
“All right, maybe now I can get her to talk,” Emma said. She turned and followed Liz. She didn’t get more than a few paces when Jamie held up her hand in a stop gesture.
“No,” Jamie said. She gestured for Liz to open the bag. She pulled out a pair of very lethal looking shears. “Absolutely not. I need time to sit with Teddy, groom him, and meditate. Besides, I can’t possibly talk to you until my attorney is present. Since it’s Sunday, he won’t be able to get here until later today or possibly tomorrow.”
“Your attorney?” Emma gaped.
“Yes, I think that’s best, don’t you?” she asked. She held Teddy close to her face so that they were both looking at Emma. “Daddy always says, ‘Never talk to an officer of the law without an attorney present.’”
“By all means, we can wait for your attorney to arrive,” Emma said. She sounded very encouraging. “And I have a fabulous single room for you to occupy while you wait. Of course, it’ll be awfully inconvenient for you to have to wait overnight, but hey, it’s your call.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. Lindsey felt as if this surly expression made her appear more than her actual age. Carrying Teddy under one arm, Jamie stepped forward and stared down at Emma as if she were a bug she’d found crawling in her dessert. “I may not have a law degree, but even I know that you can’t keep me here unless you arrest me, and even then it’s only for thirty-six hours until charges are made or you have to release me.”
“Thirty-six hours can feel like an awfully long time in a cell,” Emma observed. Her coolness under the fire of Jamie’s ire was impressive.
“I’m going home,” Jamie said. She tilted up her chin, but her voice wobbled. She was clearly rattled. She didn’t move, and Lindsey wondered if she was afraid that Emma might tackle her to the ground.
“We’ll go together,” Emma said. “We need to conduct a search of the property.” She paused to see what Jamie thought of that.
Jamie shrugged, putting the shears back in the bag Liz still held. “I don’t care. The cleaning crew has been there all morning. There’s not going to be anything worth finding.” She looked smug.
“Maybe,” Emma said.
Jamie looked less certain of herself and buried her nose in Teddy’s fur.
“I’m sorry,” Liz interrupted. “But what’s going on?”
They all turned to look at her, and Lindsey felt her stomach drop. She didn’t want to be the one who told her the news. She was still having a hard time coming to terms with it herself. Jamie didn’t feel any such reluctance. She looked at Liz and said, “Steve is dead.”
“What?” Liz rocked back on her heels. She looked shocked.
“I’m sorry,” Emma said. Her voice was gentle, appreciating that he’d been Liz’s boss and longtime friend. “But it’s true. Steve Briggs was found dead this morning on one of the islands.”
“This morning? On one of the islands?” Liz glanced at the window where she could see the bay through the snow that was still falling.
The storm made visibility impossible, and they could barely make out the islands. It would be fully dark soon, even though it was still afternoon, and Lindsey thought about the random happenstance that had caused them to go out to Bell Island today. If she hadn’t messed up the invitations, they wouldn’t have been there at all. And if they hadn’t, would anyone have found Steve? The thought sent a shiver through Lindsey.
Sully put his hand on her back. “You all right?”
“Yeah, no, but I’m trying,” she said.
He squeezed her shoulder and she took comfort in that. Liz glanced at them. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Yeah,” Sully said. “We were visiting my parents when we found him.”
“But, I don’t understand,” Liz protested. Her voice was shaky and she looked rattled. “What happened to him? How could he be dead?”
Lindsey and Sully looked at Emma. This was her call since they had no idea how much information she wanted to give out.
“The medical examiner will determine the cause of death,” she said. “Until he makes his report, we can’t officially say anything.”
“Oh my God,” Liz gasped. “He was murdered.” Then she rounded on Jamie. “You!”
Jamie reared back, holding Teddy in front of her as if he could protect her. “What?”
“You’re the only one who would gain if Steve died,” Liz said.
Jamie’s eyebrows rose up to her hairline. “That’s quite an assumption you’re making.”
“Is it, though?” Liz’s eyes narrowed.
The two women stared at each other. The tension in the room was palpable, and Emma glanced between them, letting the moment unfold as it would.
Jamie straightened her spine and looked Liz over with a sneer. Very deliberately, she said, “You’re fired.”
“Too late,” Liz shot back. “I quit.” She reached under her coat and untied her apron. She flung it at Jamie, hitting her square in the belly with it. It fell to the floor, and no one bent to pick it up.
“Fine,” Jamie said. She stepped over the apron and strode toward the door. “Don’t bother calling me for a reference.”
“As if I would,” Liz grumbled.
With that, Jamie strode out the door. When it shut behind her, Emma turned to Wilcox and said, “Make sure she gets home okay. I’ll be right behind you as soon as the warrant is ready.”
“Roger that,” he said. He took off after Jamie.
Liz was breathing hard. She looked rattled as she turned to them and said, “I can’t believe I just quit my job a few weeks before Christmas.”
They all watched her as if she might have an epic meltdown. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
“And I really can’t believe that Steve is dead,” she said. This time the tears did roll. “Is it true? Really? You’re absolutely sure?”
Sully and Lindsey exchanged a look. Lindsey reached out and squeezed Liz’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s a shock.”
“I just . . . last night . . .” Liz’s voice trailed off. She looked at them with a worried expression. “Has anyone told Nate?”
Emma’s phone chimed, and she glanced at the display. “I have to go pick up the warrant to search the Briggses’ house. I’ll talk to Nate on my way. And, Liz, I’ll want to interview you, too, about the Briggses and last night when you’re up to it.”
Liz nodded. “I’ll be home all evening.”
Emma strode to the door, calling to Molly, “Call me if you need me.”
“Will do,” Molly said. She crossed the room and linked her arm with Liz’s. “Come on, let’s get you a hot cup of coffee and some banana bread.” Then she looked at Sully and Lindsey and said, “And you two need to finish up your statements.”
Like a mother hen, she led them all back to the break room. Lindsey dutifully resumed her seat and picked up her pen.
As she filled out her description of the events of the morning, she tried not to dwell on how Steve had arrived on Bell Island, still wearing his elf suit and with a head injury. What had happened to him? Horrible accident? Or intentional murder? She did not envy Emma having to figure this mess out.
Bam! A book was slammed down on the counter.
Lindsey glanced up and cringed. This was not how she wanted to spend her Monday afternoon. The morning had been rough, with everyone who came into the library talking about Steve Briggs. The sadness following the news of his death had left them all wrung out and weary. She’d hoped for a quiet afternoon where she could try to think about something else, something pleasant, at least for a little while. Clearly, it was not meant to be.
She turned and forced herself to smile, or at least not frown, at one of her most difficult patrons standing across the circulation desk from her. Karen Mallaber was always a pill, and judging by the cranky look on her face, today was going to be no exception. The staff had taken to calling her Ms. Malcontent, and while Lindsey didn’t do that, as it was unprofessional and not a behavior she wanted to encourage, she certainly couldn’t fault them for it. It took everything she had to keep her expression neutral under the glare that was being directed at her.
“Good morning, Ms. Mallaber. How are you today?” she asked. They’d never gotten friendly enough to be on a first name basis.
Ms. Mallaber ignored the greeting while she glowered at Lindsey as if she’d done something unforgivable. Lindsey scanned her brain. There’d been no changes in policy or hours, which was what usually kicked off public complaint. Still, there was no ignoring the way Ms. Mallaber’s lips turned down at the corners. Lindsey braced herself for the complaining to start in three . . . two . . . one . . .
Ms. Mallaber jabbed the cover of the book on the counter in front of her with a bony finger and declared, “This is the very worst book I have ever read.”
Lindsey glanced down at the mystery she was poking. Oh no. It was one of the books Lindsey had recommended to her last week. The series was one of Lindsey’s favorites, and she’d hoped Ms. Mallaber would enjoy the feisty amateur sleuth, the humor and the quaint community full of quirky characters. Apparently she had not. Lindsey gently slid the book away from Ms. Mallaber before she could do it any harm.
“That’s too bad,” she said. “Fortunately, this author has other series—”
“No!” Ms. Mallaber snapped. She was short and stout, bundled in a thick, puffy gray coat with a beige knit hat and scarf. “This author is awful.”
“And yet her books still land on the bestsellers’ list,” Lindsey said. She was feeling provoked into defending one of her favorite writers. Normally she could roll with a difference of opinion on a book, but Ms. Malcontent—okay fine, she thought it—wasn’t one to have reasonable discussions. In fact, she was just a literary bully.
Ms. Mallaber sniffed in disdain, letting Lindsey know what she thought about bestsellers’ lists. She yanked off her hat and untied her scarf. So she wasn’t leaving any time soon. Okay, then.
“I can show you some other mysteries if you’d like,” Lindsey offered. She hoped her voice didn’t sound as half-hearted as she felt, but after the devastating day she’d had yesterday, she didn’t have the reserves to pretend that she enjoyed Ms. Mallaber’s company.
They’d done this reader-advisory dance so many times over the past few years, it was getting old. Lindsey suspected that Ms. Mallaber didn’t care what book Lindsey recommended to her; she would hate it primarily so that she could then come back to the library and scold Lindsey for her dubious taste in reading material. Ms. Mallaber was borderline abusive in her contempt for the books and the authors, which caused Lindsey quite a bit of pain, since she tended to recommend books she loved. Maybe she’d start recommending books she couldn’t stand, then when Ms. Mallaber trashed them, she could silently agree.
“No thank you,” Ms. Mallaber said. She was so indignant that a few rogue dark hairs on her chin trembled along with the spiky gray hair on her head. She looked like a porcupine with quills out, except porcupines were cute. “I’ve given you plenty of chances. I just don’t trust your judgment any longer. I don’t see how you can call yourself a librarian when you can’t even suggest a decent book to read.”
Lindsey blinked. Even for notorious crabby appleton Ms. Malcontent, this seemed a bit over-the-top. She refused to let the woman hurt her feelings and tried to remember the wise words of one of her library professors when Lindsey told her she was going to work with the public. Hurt people hurt people. Clearly, there was something else going on in Ms. Mallaber’s life that was making her lash out, and even though it felt personal, Lindsey was just a target and not the cause of her anger, and neither was her author.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Lindsey said. “But, of course, I’m sure you can find plenty of books on your own.”
“Obviously,” Ms. Mallaber said. She turned on her heel and stormed away from the desk. Hurt or not, Lindsey was surprised to see that Ms. Malcontent’s cold, cold heart hadn’t caused icicles to form where she’d stood.
“What’s got her in such a mood?”
Ms. Cole had come a long way in the years since Lindsey had become director of the small seaside library, and compared to Ms. Mallaber, she practically radiated sunshine and daisies.
“The usual,” Lindsey said. “With an extra twist of mean.”
“Such a sourpuss,” Ms. Cole said. “She’s always been like that, even when she was young. Reminds me of a lemon, all puckered up like that.”
Lindsey’s eyes went wide. “You don’t say.”
“I do say. She really needs to loosen up,” Ms. Cole said.
When she went back to her stack of books for check-in, Lindsey turned her head away and smiled.
Thankfully, Ms. Mallaber left the library with a stack of books and her own personal black cloud shortly thereafter, and Lindsey settled in at the reference desk to read book reviews and work on her orders for next year. She was halfway through Booklist, by far her favorite book review source, when she saw Violet and Nancy enter the building.
Although, the crafternooners were all frequent users of the library, Lindsey had a feeling they were here for more than the usual library services of checking out books and movies or doing research that involved more in-depth knowledge than a Google search that may or may not give the correct answer.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Lindsey greeted them. “Any news?” She didn’t have to explain about what. Steve’s death had been the news of the town.
“Nothing as yet,” Nancy said.
“Emma is staying very tight-lipped about Steve’s death,” Violet added.
They sat down in the two padded chairs opposite Lindsey’s desk. This had been the traffic pattern all day. People coming into the library and, other than Ms. Mallaber, stopping by her desk, wanting to talk about Steve’s death. There was much speculation, and the rumors were beginning to grow and warp with each telling.
One theory was he’d taken his boat out while drunk, as it had been discovered missing during Emma’s search of the house and grounds. Another was that he had a side piece on one of the islands and had decided to go visit her but had crashed in the dark. A twist on that tale was that he’d been discovered by Jamie, who had clocked him on the head in a rage and set him out to sea. While that was wildly popular, since no one liked Jamie, most town residents had zeroed in on Tony Mancusi, Steve’s former partner, as the person most likely to have caused Steve harm. Their fight at the party was proof enough in most people’s minds that there was some serious bad blood there.
Variations of these theories had been offered up all morning, and Lindsey and her staff had listened, offering no opinions on what was an ongoing investigation. She knew that the library was the center point of the community, but she felt as if people were here for more than just the sense of connection. Everyone seemed to be looking to her for something, but she had no idea what.
“Why do I get the feeling you think I might know something?” Lindsey asked.
“Because you’re you,” Nancy said.
“Meaning?”
“Nosy,” Violet said. “But in the nicest possible way.”
Lindsey frowned. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Sure, she had a librarian’s keen interest in getting to the root of a question, but did that make her nosy or just really passionate about her job of gathering information? She preferred to think it was the latter.
“Well, I don’t have any more information than anyone else.” She shrugged.
“That disappoints,” Nancy retorted.
“Until the medical examiner gives a cause of death,” Lindsey said, “I don’t think it’s right to look for a murderer among us. It could have just been a terrible accident.”
“Except.” Violet raised a finger to show she had a point. “Steve grew up here. He knew the islands almost as well as Sully. There’s no way he crashed his boat. Speaking of which, where is his boat?”
Lindsey sighed. Sully had made the same point over their morning coffee. He was struggling with the shocking death of his friend, and the fact that it appeared that Steve had crashed amid the islands he knew so well hadn’t sat well with Sully. He didn’t say he suspected foul play, but Lindsey knew him well enough to know he was thinking it.
“No one knows,” she said. “Sully went looking for it out in the bay this morning, but there was no sign of it. Of course, he only had time for a cursory check of the islands. It could still be out there.”
“Any word on how his brother is taking the news?” Nancy asked.
“No,” Lindsey said. “I’m sure he’s devastated.”
Violet and Nancy exchanged a look. It was heavy with meaning, and Lindsey glanced between them. “What?”
“I heard that Emma questioned him about his whereabouts after the party,” Nancy said. She kept her voice low, obviously not wanting anyone to overhear her.
“That seems like a procedural sort of thing, doesn’t it?” Lindsey asked. “I mean, he’s Steve’s brother, and he was a part of the altercation with Tony Mancusi. She might have been trying to determine whether the brothers had another argument with Mancusi, which, judging by how furious he was, seems highly likely.”
“That makes sense,” Violet said. “I can’t see Nate Briggs being involved in anything criminal. He’s the nicest man. Why, I remember when my car broke down on the Post Road. He was already there to tow another car, but he came right over and changed my tire for me so I could drive back to the garage on the spare.”
“Isn’t that just like him?” Violet agreed. “I think everyone in town has a Nate Briggs story. For me, it was a hot summer day, and my car overheated in the middle of nowhere. Like a knight on a white stallion, he appeared out of the waves of heat and got my baby cooled off and running again. Of course, his stallion was his beat-up white tow truck, but I might have had a touch of heatstroke.”
Lindsey smiled. “I remember there was this time that Sully dropped a tiny screwdriver down into the truck’s engine when he was fiddling with it and trying to fix it himself.” She paused to shake her head. “Nate told him not to do that again but then managed to fish the screwdriver out and fix the problem.”
“He’s just a good man,” Nancy said.
“One of the best,” Violet agreed.
“Which is why I’m certain Emma talking to him was just a formality,” Lindsey said. “Poor Nate is probably desperate to know what happened to his brother.”
“I know I would be,” Nancy said. “I can’t even picture this town without Steve Briggs in it.”
The three of them were silent for a moment, trying to come to terms with the loss of such a larger-than-life personality.
“I’m sure you’ve thought of this,” Violet said. “And I hate to bring it up and cause you any added stress, but it needs to be dealt with.” She leaned over the desk and said, “Who are you and Sully going to get to marry you? You have less than a week to find someone. Pastor Williams is celebrating his thirtieth wedding anniversary and won’t be returning to Briar Creek until the week before Christmas.”
Lindsey felt her insides twist into a knot. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but there it was. Briar Creek was a small town. There weren’t a lot of options if they wanted an official-type person to perform the service with the same panache that Steve would have brought to the ceremony with his deep voice and charming grin.
She nodded. “I know, I know. I’ve been trying not to freak out, but I have no idea what we’re going to do. I don’t even know if Emma is going to let us have the ceremony on the island. As of this morning, the residents were asked to vacate to allow the investigators the run of it now that the snow has stopped. They are crawling all over the place, looking for clues as to what happened and how Steve got there.”
Both women looked at her, and Violet issued a stern warning, “No fretting. It gives you wrinkles. The wedding is in five days. Surely we can find someone in that time who can perform the ceremony.”
“Would you consider it?” Lindsey asked. It had just hit her that Violet would be perfect. She was a brilliant actress, elegant and beautiful, and carried herself with such an air of authority that she would give the ceremony the gravitas it warranted. Also, she loved Lindsey and Sully, so it would have the same feeling of longtime friendship that Steve would have given them.
To Lindsey’s surprise, Violet burst into tears, and not delicate little sniffles either. Oh, no. Enormous drops of water coursed down her brown skin, over her jutting cheekbones, to drip off her chin. Nancy opened her purse and pulled out a pack of tissues. She handed one to Violet.
“She can’t,” Nancy said. “Violet is a crier. She can’t get through a wedding, even a stranger’s wedding, without sobbing herself dry.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s true.” Violet blew her nose. “But how lovely of you . . . to ask me . . . for your special day . . .” She stopped, dissolving into sobs and tears again.
“See?” Nancy asked. “I always tell her she could be rented out for weddings and funerals.”
Lindsey reached across the desk and patted Violet’s hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll find someone. We have five days. It’ll be fine. Totally fine.”
When Violet and Nancy departed, Lindsey went back to her review reading. There had been a new resurgence in romantic comedies, and she found a title about a young woman revisiting her gap year, including Paris, that she knew she had to order multiple copies of because, as the title suggested, Paris was always a good idea. Maybe she and Sully should elope to Paris.
“Hi, Lindsey.”
Lindsey glanced up and grinned. One of her favorite patrons, Kathi McIntyre, a retired science teacher, was walking past her desk. She had a stack of books in her arms and Lindsey spied a mystery by Deborah Crombie and a thriller by Hank Phillippi Ryan.
“Excellent choices,” she said.
“Thanks.” Kathi smiled. She surreptitiously took a sip of the Coca-Cola she clutched in her free hand. Lindsey raised an eyebrow and Kathi shrugged. “I know, I know, no beverages in the library, but it’s my one weakness.”
“I won’t tell,” Lindsey said. She raised the coffee cup she had hidden on the shelf under her desk and Kathi blinked at her from behind her glasses, tossed her light brown hair back, and laughed.
“You’re a rebel, Lindsey Norris,” she said.
“Takes one to know one.” Lindsey toasted her with her mug and Kathi returned it with her soda can before heading to the checkout desk.
When Ann Marie, the library’s adult services librarian, came to relieve Lindsey from the desk, she was ready for the break. Her book orders were done, she’d given plenty of reader’s advisory, and the two reference questions she’d gotten had been asked and answered. In giving Ann Marie a rundown on the state of the service desk, she was pleased that she didn’t have any questions to roll over. Ann Marie looked relieved as well.
Lindsey glanced at the stack of papers in her hand. “Programming?”
“Yes,” Ann Marie said. “I’m already booking the guest speakers for spring. Can you believe it? The year isn’t even over yet, and I’m booking for March. Speaking of which, how would you feel about a baking program? Any chance we could commandeer the staff kitchen for a visiting chef?”
“Before I hastily say yes and live to regret it, can you send me a description of the program, including the cost?” Lindsey asked.
Ann Marie handed her a sheet of paper. “I anticipated that reaction. Here’s the presenter’s credentials and requirements.”
“Excellent. I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Ann Marie said. “Not to show my hand, but I’m thinking I’d like to do a series of programs with visiting chefs. Just think how it could help showcase our cookbook collection.”
Lindsey smiled. “I like the way you’re thinking.”
Ann Marie grinned, and Lindsey left the floor, thinking how lucky she was to have such a crackerjack staff. Their commitment to their community was unparalleled.
When she arrived at her office, it was to find Robbie Vine waiting for her. As was their habit, he stopped by the library every now and then in the afternoon to share a spot of tea. A pot covered with a knit cozy in the shape of a Santa Claus head sat on the corner of her desk with two cups beside it.
“You are wasting your time,” Lindsey said. “I don’t know anything about what happened to Steve Briggs. If your chief of police girlfriend isn’t telling you, she certainly isn’t telling me.”
“Now, is that nice?” Robbie asked. He rose to his feet and shoved his phone into his pocket when she entered. “Here I go to all the trouble to brew a pot of tea and bring some of your favorite biscuits and you accuse me of being here just to get the goss. The cheek!”
Lindsey burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. No one could feign innocent chagrin like Robbie. His strawberry-blond hair was ruffled, and his pale green eyes twinkled with mirth.
Lindsey glanced down at the package of Biscoff biscuits. Okay, he had her there. Those Belgian cookies were a weakness, especially when paired with a hot cup of tea. She circled her desk and sat down while Robbie poured their tea and plated some cookies.
“I apologize,” Lindsey said, “if I misread your intentions.”
“No need.” Robbie waved away her apology. “As it turns out, I am here to talk about one of the Briggses.”
Lindsey paused with her delicate china cup halfway to her lips. “One of the Briggses? Not Steve?”
“Not directly,” he said. He gave her a considering glance. “It just so happens that at the party, I overheard a heated discussion between the two brothers.”
“Really?” Lindsey asked. She frowned. She thought about how Nate had been beside Steve, defending him from Tony Mancusi. She’d always thought the Briggs brothers were close. She had a hard time believing that any discord between them was anything more than the normal sibling-type stuff. Even she and her brother, Jack, were known to rile each other every now and again.
“You doubt me?” he asked.
Lindsey took a sip. The Earl Grey was divine, warming her up against the cold day.
“No, I can understand that the two brothers might have not always gotten on,” she said. “But enough for Nate to have harmed Steve? No, I just don’t see it.”
“Not even with the disparity in their incomes?” Robbie asked. “Steve lives in a glass mansion on the water while Nate . . .”
“Lives in a three-bedroom single-story house on the edge of town with his wife and five children,” Lindsey finished. “Do you really think that would give him reason to harm his brother?”
“Maybe he asked for a loan and Steve said no,” Robbie suggested. Lindsey made a face, and he shrugged. “I don’t like it either, but I know what I heard.”
“What exactly did you hear? And how?”
“I had left the party to use the loo,” he said. “I was waiting for my turn, but the line was long, so I thought I’d kill some time in the library while I waited.”
“Steve has a library?”
“Huge one,” Robbie said. “I didn’t realize anyone was in there, as the room is shaped in an L, and they were around the corner from me. When I heard the voices, I thought about leaving, but they sounded as if they might come to blows at any moment, so I thought I should stay just in case it got ugly.”
“What were they saying?” she asked.
“That’s the tricky part, isn’t it?” he asked. “I couldn’t see them, and their voices are as similar as their faces. The only reason I even know it was them is because they used each other’s names.”
“Have you told Emma about this?”
“Of course,” he said. “I told her first thing.”
“What did she say?”
“She was going to interview Nate about it.”
“I heard that she already talked to him about his whereabouts after the party.”
“Where’d you hear that? You really are dialed in, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. Won’t it be awkward if Nate asks who overheard him?”
Robbie chewed his lower lip. “It’s fine. I could take him.”
Lindsey shook her head. Nate was a mechanic who picked up and tossed spare tires like they were softballs. If provoked, he could pound Robbie into the ground like a hammer on a spike.
“All right, fine. So the strapping young lad could thrash me,” he said. “What do I care? I have one thing he’ll never have.”
“What’s that?”
“The chief of police as my backup.”