by Cate Conte
“That’s not nice, Maddie,” my mother said, spooning some mashed potatoes onto her plate. “You shouldn’t judge. No one knows what makes anyone else tick.”
“Sorry, Mom, but it’s true. She was so awful to us. You saw her in action. And the night he died…” I thought about her claw-like fingers gripping my wrist. “I feel like there’s something off about her. Aside from her just being miserable. Ethan saw it too,” I said, pointing my fork at him.
He nodded his assent, but kept eating.
My phone vibrated next to me on the table. I picked it up and glanced at the screen. A text from Lucas.
Merry Christmas, Maddie. Hope everything is OK. Wondered if we could finish our conversation?
I ignored it and put the phone facedown on the table again.
“I don’t really know most of those neighbors,” my dad was saying. “I do remember when that woman—Whitney, is it?—was in the hospital after that accident with her ex-husband. That was quite an event.”
My ears perked up. “What happened to her? I know she’s still recovering, but I never feel right asking.”
“It was some sort of alcohol-related car wreck. It got to my desk because there were police and lawyers swarming the hospital for days.” He shook his head. “And of course the newspaper was all over it.”
I smiled. “Of course.” I made a mental note to go look up the story. Or just ask Becky, since she had a photographic memory of everything the paper published. “But why lawyers?”
“Because they’re both worth a lot of money, and she was clearly injured and unable to work for a while. They were in the process of an unfriendly divorce too. It was quite a mess.”
“When did that happen?” I asked.
He thought back. “It was probably at the end of the summer.”
“Wow. That’s a long time,” I said. “But she’s so sweet and she still goes and gets food for the cats and tries to help as much as she can. Unlike the others.” I wrinkled my nose.
My mother sighed. “Honey. We’re trying to meet people where they are, remember?”
“That’s fine, Mom. I just don’t get why they need to be so mean about everything.” My phone buzzed again. I ignored it.
Val looked at me pointedly. “You gonna get that? It sounds important.”
“Nope,” I said. “I don’t think it’s important at all.”
Chapter 19
Saturday, December 26: four days after the murder
7:45 a.m.
“Hopefully things will start getting back to normal today, JJ,” I said to him the next morning, though I didn’t really believe it. How could they, with Katrina still in jail? I couldn’t help but think the arrest had been done strategically, so she would have to spend almost four days in a cell before she could be arraigned. I’m sure she was beside herself with worry about not only her situation, but the cats. Not to mention her own cats, who I was now taking care of as well. I was worried about all of it too.
JJ had curled himself into a ball on my pillow, inches away from my head. When I spoke, he opened one eye, regarded me, then closed it again, tucking his tail over his eyes like a blindfold. Guess he wasn’t ready to face the day either.
I sighed and rolled over. The day after Christmas. Not the holiday I’d been expecting when I imagined my first holiday back home, like really home. I loved Christmas, and Christmas in New England, no matter how you felt about winter weather, was special. As much as I’d loved California, the season just didn’t feel the same. So I’d romanticized this whole holiday season once I made the decision to stay here. It got even worse when Lucas and I seemed to be doing so well. I’d had visions of not only a cozy Christmas with my family, but with someone I loved by my side to help decorate the tree and watch corny Christmas movies.
Yeah, Maddie. Look how well that turned out. I pushed those images, as well as the one of the cheerfully wrapped little box, out of my mind. I still hadn’t decided what to do with it yet. And I hadn’t answered Lucas’s texts. He tried a couple of more times to get me to respond last night. I’d ignored him, even though it hurt to do it. But I kept asking myself, is this the kind of guy you want to be with? Someone who can pull a disappearing act like that as if it’s nothing?
And the answer was a resounding No. I’d been with enough bad boyfriends in my life and I was done with all that.
I threw off my covers, grabbed a sweatshirt and my slippers, and made my way down to the café. We were going to be open today—not that I was expecting a lot of traffic, but it still felt good to have a purpose. As I descended the stairs, the sounds and smells of normal things wrapped around me like a hug.
Ethan was in the kitchen, as usual, and Adele was in the café cleaning. I heard her classical music pouring out of the slightly open French doors. It always made me laugh. The fact that Adele, my gruff, two-pack-a-day crossing guard and cat-rescue warrior, loved classical music had never really computed with me, but she swore it helped the cats. I stopped by the kitchen for coffee and to say good morning to Ethan, then headed into the café. Adele had the cleaning under control so I went right out to the reception area, where I’d stashed a couple of boxes of deliveries that had showed up on Christmas Eve. In all the craziness, I hadn’t even opened the boxes yet. I’d been buying more stuff for the café gift shop and couldn’t wait to see what had arrived.
Having JJ as the mascot was a brilliant marketing strategy if I did say so, but if I could expand my line and start selling a range of items, all the better. So I’d started researching and strategically buying from vendors who I knew would be popular with the type of crowd I got. And one of my newest scores was stocking some of the artist Salvato’s work.
Salvato was well known in animal circles for his rescue-animal line of paintings. I’d first learned about him when I was in California. His work was a big part of the famous Best Friends Animal Society in Utah, a rescue, adoption center, and sanctuary that was making a huge difference in the country. He’d done a project with them where he’d painted every dog that came in from a terrible dogfighting bust, showing the world their true personalities instead of the monsters portrayed by both the dogfighters and some members of the media. He’d been well known before then for an artist who never let himself be photographed and who stayed largely anonymous, but his fame shot to new heights after that line was released. Now you could not only buy his paintings, but prints, notecards, postcards, and even T-shirts with his designs. Best of all, he donated most of his profits to rescues around the country. He gave them to Best Friends for anything he did directly relating to them, and he also supported other organizations.
Chances were good one of these boxes was my Salvato order. I figured I’d get that unpacked and stocked today and start putting the pictures up on the website. I hauled the boxes out from where I’d stashed them behind the counter and sliced the first one open just as Grandpa walked in with a couple of plates. Apple cake, from the smell of it.
“Morning, doll,” he said. “How are you feeling today?”
I shrugged. “Not great. I feel terrible that Katrina is stuck in that cell. They have to let her out at the arraignment, Grandpa.”
“They don’t have to do anything,” he said gently, putting the plates down on the counter. “You know that.”
I jabbed at the box with my box cutter. “I don’t care. The whole thing is ridiculous. You have to tell those cops they have the wrong person.”
“I talked to the chief,” he said.
I looked up. “You did?”
He nodded. “Called him early this morning.”
“And?”
Grandpa sighed. “He wasn’t terribly receptive to me sticking my nose in, honestly. Especially now that I’m retired. Chief Dunn and I never … quite saw eye to eye.”
“But that shouldn’t matter if someone is innocent,” I said.
“They have to figure that out for themselves, doll. And right now, they have a witness who saw Katrina’s car there, and a bunch of pe
ople who saw her and the Prousts having a huge fight a few weeks ago.”
That was news to me. “They did?”
He nodded. “That’s what the chief said.”
I thought about that. Something else she hadn’t mentioned to me. I’d have to dig around and see what I could find out. But did it really matter? “So what? So did Avery Evans. They called the cops on her, for crying out loud.” Not that I wanted to throw Avery under the bus, but I needed to make the point. “Grandpa. The reality is, they were super difficult and mean to anyone who tried to help the cats. So of course they had altercations. But this guy had to have other stuff going on in his life. Are they even looking? His wife is crazy as a loon. Have they looked at her?”
Grandpa shrugged. “While I’m not privy to the investigation, I’m sure they are looking at everything, Madalyn. Even if I disagree with the man sometimes, he runs a competent, albeit small and not terribly experienced, police force.” He took a bite of his cake.
I watched, dumbfounded at his calm. “So you’re really just going to go about your business and let them muck this up?”
“Of course not,” he said around a mouthful. “I’m going to investigate on my own. He doesn’t have to know about it. Well, at least until I have something to tell him.”
That was more like it. “So what are you going to do first?” I smiled as I dug into the box, pleased to see it was indeed what I’d been hoping for, and pulled out a pack of notecards.
“Well, I’m going to see what I can find out about Virgil himself. Always start with the victim, as they say. What are those?” Grandpa stepped closer to inspect the notecards.
I pulled off the wrapper to see the various designs. As expected, they were gorgeous. I showed them to Grandpa. “This is the artist who does all the animal designs and donates most of his profits to animal rescue.”
Grandpa took them and flipped through, pausing at the design of two dogs whose tails were twined together in a heart shape. I loved them because the illustrations were not cheesy at all—they depicted real-life shelter animals, even ones who didn’t fit the traditional “cute dog” or “adorable cat” image. And he used colors really boldly in each too. I was hopeless at anything artsy, so I had no idea how to describe any of it, but his work filled me with peace and joy and occasionally brought me to tears. He had a whole Rainbow Bridge series that could literally tear your heart out.
“Lovely,” Grandpa said, handing them back to me. He checked his watch. “I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Okay. Be careful out there. It could be icy,” I said. “And let me know what you find out!”
He waved me off as he left the room. He hadn’t been gone for more than five minutes when I heard the doorbell. Ethan was closer so I let him get it, hoping it wasn’t anyone for the café yet. It was only eight thirty and I wasn’t planning on opening until ten, but sometimes people just showed up and I didn’t have the heart to turn them away.
But it wasn’t anyone here for the café.
Chapter 20
Saturday, December 26: four days after the murder
9:20 a.m.
“Maddie?”
I turned, my heart thudding when I saw Lucas standing there. He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept at all, and even thinner if that was possible. “Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.
“Sorry to just drop by like this.… I tried texting you last night.”
I averted my eyes. “Sorry. I was at my parents and my phone was in my bag. It was too late when I got home to get in touch.” The lie rolled easily out of my mouth, but I figured it was better than completely stomping on his feelings. Like he’d done to me.
“I figured. Listen, do you think we could talk?”
“This really isn’t a good time,” I said. “I have to get some stuff done here and I’m opening soon.”
“Oh. Sure. Of course. Well … is there another time that might work for you?”
I hated how formal he sounded, but of course I wasn’t giving him any other option. “I’m afraid not.” I reached into the top drawer of my desk and handed him the bag with the gift. “I appreciate the gesture but I really can’t accept this.” I wished I could erase the absolutely crushed look from his face.
He kept his hands in his pockets and didn’t take the bag. “Maddie. Please. Can we just talk,” he said, and the pleading note in his voice almost made me reconsider. I wanted to, so badly. I wanted to just forget about all of it and throw myself into his arms. Tell him how glad I was that he was home. But I knew how this worked. If he got away with it once, he’d feel like he could do whatever he wanted, and it would only get worse as the relationship went on. As much as I wanted to believe people change, my experience was that they didn’t. And that meant more, bigger heartbreak in the future.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really can’t. Please take this.” I put the bag on the desk and, avoiding his eyes, hurried upstairs where I locked myself in my bathroom and tried to convince myself it wasn’t worth crying over.
* * *
I stayed upstairs until I was sure Lucas had left. I didn’t want to chance going back downstairs if he was hanging around, hoping I’d give in. I wasn’t sure if I knew what I was doing. All I knew is that the more I let people get away with stuff in my life, the more stuff they tried to get away with. It had always been that way with the guys I dated, and though I desperately wanted Lucas to be different, it seemed like he wasn’t. So I needed to protect myself.
I waited twenty minutes then went back downstairs to pick up where I’d left off. JJ was in the café with Adele and the other cats. I went to my reception area and saw that the Lee’s bag was still on the counter. I stuffed it on one of the shelves where I wouldn’t have to look at it and flipped the sign on the door to OPEN. Then I returned to unpacking my box. My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and peered at the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was local so I answered.
“Maddie? It’s Dr. Kelly. Just wondering when someone is picking up this fluffy guy?”
I blinked, trying to reorient myself to the day. “Fluffy guy?”
“The black feral,” he said patiently. “The one I fixed right before Christmas. He’s fine to be returned now. I feel badly he’s been in the trap for so long.”
I was completely confused. Last I’d seen Toby, I’d transferred him to Katrina’s care late Monday night. She hadn’t mentioned when he’d be getting fixed but I figured she’d had it all lined up as she usually did. Although come to think of it, she usually let me know these things in case she needed a backup transporter. Then again, she’d been kind of busy getting arrested. And I was embarrassed to say it had totally slipped my mind with everything else going on.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know he was still there. I’ll be over in a little while.”
“Great. Thank you.”
I stuck my phone back in my pocket and checked the café e-mails. We didn’t have any appointments today that had come in through our online scheduler, and I figured it was safe to say there wouldn’t be a huge rush on the place. I asked Adele if she could stay for a bit and help any customers, then headed out. I was just sliding into my car when Cass drove up and parked behind me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, getting back out of the car.
“You don’t come to me, I come to you,” he said. “Are we going somewhere?”
I smiled. I loved Cass. “I have to go pick up a cat and release him back to the woods.”
“Let’s go,” he said, opening his passenger door for me. Cass drove a black Jeep Wrangler that wasn’t really a great winter car, but he loved it.
I hoisted myself up into it and gave him directions to Dr. Kelly’s. Once we were on the road he glanced over at me. “How are you doing?”
“Not great,” I admitted. “I need to help Katrina and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed about it.”
Cas nodded. “And what about Lucas?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“That’s okay. But are you meditating?”
I suppressed an eye roll. I was an intermittent meditator at best, and while I knew it helped me, there was still a part of me resistant to it.
“I thought so. This is when you need it the most,” he said. “That’s where all your answers are.”
“Yeah? Even Virgil’s killer?” I knew I was being flip and hated myself for it, but I was feeling so terrible about everything I couldn’t help it.
He glanced over at me with a small smile. “You never know what epiphanies you’ll get when you meditate.”
I slumped in my seat and kept my mouth shut until we pulled up at Dr. Kelly’s door. He lived in Duck Cove not far from my parents, on the east border of Daybreak Harbor. He had always worked out of his home, which had a side entrance for his exam and surgery areas—kind of like our café now—and he had never gotten rid of all his equipment. After Dr. Drake went out of business and his partner left the island, we would’ve been vet-less if it wasn’t for Dr. Kelly. Seemed like he knew his services would be needed once again on the island, so he’d been waiting in the wings.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Cass and got out of the car.
His door was locked so I rang the bell. He opened it a moment later, smiling at me. Dr. Kelly was a pleasant, average-looking man. Average height, average weight, average glasses, average thinning hair. I didn’t quite know how old he was but figured he had to be close to seventy if he’d been thinking of retirement. I remembered as a kid bringing our myriad of animal friends to see him, including my first cat Henry and the turtle Sam had saved when she was five years old. She had that turtle almost seventeen years before he died, and no one really knew how old he was when she found him.
“How are you, Maddie? It’s nice to see you again,” Dr. Kelly said now, stepping aside so I could come in.