by Cate Conte
Just as well.
I walked out of the café, heading in the direction of my shop. Then I turned and went left instead. Before I knew it, my feet were in front of North Harbor Realty’s building. I hoped Andrew was there. I didn’t care if he was Nat’s husband. I needed to know what was going on. Specifically, if he knew anything about the Todd-Carla business deal.
I went up to the fourth floor and walked right in, grateful to find the door unlocked.
Andrew was in the little kitchen. He turned when I blasted in. His eyes were red and puffy, and he looked worse than yesterday. When he realized it was me, his jaw set. “I told you, Violet—”
“Is Rain right? Are you messing with the books? Did Carla catch you?” I asked, cutting him right off.
His eyes widened. “How do you . . . no! I certainly am not messing with the books. I’m so sick of everyone thinking it was me who couldn’t keep the business straight. Carla couldn’t keep her finances straight if her life depended on it”—we both winced at his choice of words—“and now that she’s gone everyone’s blaming me. It wasn’t my fault she fired the accountant. I had to hire a new one to dig us out.”
I paused, uncertain. What if Rain was wrong?
“He just thinks there’s more money than there is,” Andrew said, as if reading my mind. “He’s really a twit, that kid. His poor mother had her hands full with him, yet she still supported him.”
His poor mother? Really? “So why are you acting so weird lately? And why were you in Todd’s bar Monday when you were supposed to be out doing stuff for Natalie?”
Andrew sat down heavily in one of the waiting-area chairs, dropping his face into his hands. “I didn’t want Nat to be disappointed in me. I promised I’d help her, and I . . . haven’t been around much,” he said. His voice was muffled, and I had to step forward to hear him. “But I was stressed because Carla wanted to dissolve our partnership.” He looked up at me with bleary eyes. “Which meant I’d be out of a job.”
I sat down next to him. “But why?”
“She wanted to expand the business. I knew we were stretched thin.” He shrugged. “She didn’t want to hear it. We’ve been arguing about it for weeks.”
“Why were you stretched too thin?” I asked.
He shrugged. “A lot of expenses. This office,” he waved his hand around, “is five thousand a month for the whole floor.”
“But you guys sell million-dollar homes,” I pointed out.
Andrew didn’t have a good answer for that. I got the sense there were things he wasn’t saying. I guess he didn’t need to tell me anything, when it came down to it. But there was one thing I was going to push. “What do you know about other deals Carla had going on?”
“Other deals? Like what?”
“Like silent investor gigs.”
Andrew shook his head. “I’m not following.”
“Okay. I’ll be clear. What do you know about Carla offering to fund Todd’s next bar, then pulling out of the deal?”
“What?” He looked shocked enough that I not only believed him, but actually felt a little bad.
“That’s what Rain said.”
Andrew snorted and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you’re going to believe him?”
“What reason would he have to lie about that?”
“Oh, I’m sure I could find a few,” he said.
I shook my head, impatient. “I think he’s telling me the truth. So how did you not know? Is that money from something else?”
Andrew sagged under the weight of what I was asking him. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what she was doing or where the money was coming from. I was just trying to stay afloat and keep doing my job.” I could feel the waves of despair rolling off him, and they were so great that I had to take pity on him and stop talking. There was more to this story—I could feel it—but he wasn’t about to tell me, and I really didn’t have any right to ask.
I left him sitting there, head still in his hands, and closed the door quietly behind me.
There was only one person who could tell me what I wanted to know, and that was Todd.
CHAPTER 51
I didn’t bother to call or text Todd, figuring I’d just show up and hope he was there. And luck was finally with me when I arrived outside Luck o’ the Irish a few minutes later. His delivery guy had just shown up. I followed him in through the open side door.
Todd looked surprised when he saw me coming. He gave me an uncertain smile. I’m sure after my lukewarm response yesterday, he didn’t know what to expect. “Hey, Vi. I didn’t know you were coming by.”
“Yeah, I didn’t either. Can we talk?”
He glanced at the delivery guy unloading the beer, and said, “Just leave the slip on the bar.”
The guy nodded, and Todd led me out back to his office. “Want anything?” he asked.
I shook my head. He perched on the edge of his desk, motioning me toward the chair. I stayed standing.
“What’s going on?” he asked finally. Todd hated silence. He always tried to fill it.
But I wanted him to sweat a bit. I took my time answering. “When were you going to tell me Carla Fernandez was going to invest in your next bar?” I asked.
He hadn’t seen that coming. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then said, “Vi. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wanted to make sure it was really happening. And then, all of a sudden, it wasn’t.”
“It still seems like a big thing to leave out of conversations with your girlfriend, no?” I continued.
Todd shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been sorry a lot lately,” I said. “Why wouldn’t you tell me, Todd?”
He shoved off the desk and walked around the room in a little circle. “I don’t know, Vi. Because I knew she wasn’t your favorite person. And like I said, I didn’t believe it was going to happen. By the time I did believe it, the rug got pulled out a couple days later.” He shrugged. “Then I was back to square one anyway.”
“Why did she pull out?”
“I don’t know. She just said she didn’t have as much liquid cash as she thought.”
I thought of Andrew and Rain and botched financials. “And she told you last weekend?”
He nodded.
“And?” I asked. I hadn’t seen him much over the weekend, come to think of it. He’d worked both nights. We’d spent some time together Sunday, lunch and a movie, and he’d been distracted. But I was used to it lately, so I hadn’t thought twice about it.
“And I was upset. I’ve been waiting for this, Vi. You know that. But on Monday I got a call from a guy.”
“A guy.”
“Yeah. He said he was interested in backing me and did I want to meet. I asked him where he’d heard about me and he said, around town.”
“And it was for real?” I asked skeptically.
“Yeah, it was for real. It’s a guy named Chad Woodley. Turns out he and Carla had this rival investment thing going on. He’d gotten wind of our deal—and then our no-deal—and took advantage of it.”
I studied him. He looked earnest, like he really wanted me to believe him. “You know this looks bad, right?” I said.
“What do you mean?”
I ticked off points on my fingers. “Carla was backing you. You’ve been wanting this for years and were finally going to get it. Then she bailed on you this weekend. On Monday evening—when you lied about the bar being busy and you being here—she winds up dead.”
Todd looked like I’d just punched him in the stomach with a particularly violent fist. “Violet. Seriously, you can’t—why would you even say that?”
“I’m telling you how it looks,” I said, spreading my arms. “Especially from my perspective. You were absent Monday and you lied about it.”
“I told you. I was at that meeting with the investor and I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you. He said if I did, there would be no deal.” He came over and tried to put his arms a
round me, but I stepped away.
“So you left and no one knew where you went. And if the police asked you about this investor, you wouldn’t tell them either? Because once the cops start digging into the financials, I’m sure they’ll be all over this idea that she stiffed you. And you weren’t accounted for when she died.”
“Vi. Not gonna happen. I promise.”
“It happened to me!”
“Believe me, they’ll be more interested in Andrew,” Todd said.
“If he hadn’t been here when she got killed, with witnesses, maybe.”
Todd shook his head slowly. “They’ll just assume he had someone do it. Once they find out about recent circumstances.”
I frowned. “What, you mean that she wanted him out of the business?”
“That, and that she’d broken up with him.”
“Broken up . . .” I stared at Todd as it slowly dawned on me. “No. No way.”
Todd nodded. “Yeah. They were having an affair.”
Now I sank down onto the chair. “You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was. This was their rendezvous most days.”
I remember Ginny saying Andrew and Carla had a lot of business meetings here. “You’re kidding.”
“I just told you I’m not. He was here Monday all mopey. She wasn’t only breaking up with him, she wanted him out of the business. If he didn’t go quietly, she was going to tell Natalie. And that fool? He was only concerned with her breaking up with him.” Todd laughed, a sharp, quick sound. “He actually told me he loved her.”
CHAPTER 52
My phone buzzed just as I was about to go to bed that night. Granted, it was only eight, but Todd’s revelation about Andrew and Carla had been enough to sufficiently rattle me. I’d gone to my store and worked until four, then I’d slunk home and stayed there, snuggling with Monty, not sure what to do next. I hoped the police would get their act together and get this thing solved, but I was starting to wonder if I even wanted to know what the outcome was going to be.
I wondered if Natalie knew. Or suspected, even. She’d been preoccupied and not herself lately, for sure. I felt awful for her. And I was going to see her tomorrow at our healing circle, and I had no idea what to say. I’d chosen some crystals for her, trying to tune into her energy from here. I wasn’t sure I’d done a great job. In addition to the stones I’d picked for grief and dealing with romantic troubles, howlite kept coming up, which was my go-to stone for dealing with rage and anger. Which was also understandable, if she knew.
This was all going through my head as I reached for my phone. Sydney.
“Hey,” I said, hitting speaker.
“Hey.” She sounded subdued and very un-Sydney-like. “Are you home? Can I come over?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Good. I’m outside.”
I forgot she couldn’t get into the building anymore. Since she didn’t live here and all. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the door downstairs unlocking. “Try the door,” I said, once I’d heard that click in my mind.
“Huh. I swear it was locked when I tried it a minute ago. I’ll be right up.”
I smiled, a little, as I went to unlock my door. Maybe this stuff could come in handy.
Syd came through the door a moment later. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days either. I locked the door behind her and motioned toward the kitchen. “Tea?”
She shook her head. “I can’t stay long. Presley is with Charlie. I just . . . wanted to come see you. I have to tell you something.” She clasped and unclasped her hands together. “I just left the police station.”
I sank onto my barstool and waited for her to go on.
“They brought me in to talk about Monday because . . .” She closed her eyes, seemingly trying to drum up strength. “They thought I was meeting Carla.”
“Were you?” I asked evenly.
Sydney shook her head. “I wasn’t. I almost did, but in the end . . . I couldn’t anyway. I had something else to do.”
“What, Syd? Where were you, really?”
She shook her head. “That’s not important. But I wanted you to know why.” A deep breath. “Carla is Presley’s grandmother.”
I kept my gaze on her. “I know.”
She gaped at me. “You know? How?”
“I talked to Rain,” I said simply. “He told me the whole thing. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Syd pulled out her own barstool and sat. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I was embarrassed. Especially when it didn’t go as planned. And then I was here and I didn’t know what to do, and she kept getting meaner.” She brushed away a tear. “I just wanted Presley to know her family.”
I went to her and gave her a hug. I could feel the desperation, fear, and grief that had obviously been plaguing her for a long time now, and I wanted to weep. “I wish you’d told me. I could’ve helped,” I said.
“No. You couldn’t have. And I didn’t want to put anyone else in her line of fire. Although you seemed to get there on your own,” she said with a little laugh.
“So what happens now?” I asked. “With Rain?”
Syd’s face fell again. “He’s leaving. Once he gets the inheritance sorted out. He’s not the dad type, I guess.” She gave me a rueful smile. “He said he’d help with support. Which is good, because I’m struggling. It’s one of the reasons I decided to look him up. I wanted her to know her dad, but I also wanted some help. I’ve been trying to find ways to make more money, but . . . it’s not really working out.”
I nodded. “So what happened with the police?”
“They found out she invited me to meet. Luckily, I could prove I didn’t. Otherwise, man, that would’ve looked really bad, right?”
“For sure,” I said, hoping she would never know I’d wondered the same thing. “But we still don’t know who killed her.”
“I know. It’s kind of freaking me out.”
“You said Presley is with Charlie,” I said, suddenly catching up with that. I remembered Ginny telling me Charlie hadn’t been in the bar in a while. Yet Charlie told me that was where he was when Carla was killed.
“Yeah. So?”
I chewed on my lip, trying to think how to say this. “Are you sure . . . about him?”
She stared at me. “What on earth do you mean?”
I told her about his blown alibi. “So where was he? He couldn’t stand her either. Especially if she was targeting him because of you.”
“Oh, Vi.” She looked sad. “Of course he lied about where he was. Guys like Charlie don’t like to admit they need help. He was at his grief counselor. It’s right around the anniversary of his best friend’s suicide. He’s embarrassed to let anyone know. I only know because he needed a ride once and he trusted me enough to ask me.”
Now I really felt like a jerk. “Crap,” I muttered, tugging at my hair. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t tell him I told you,” Syd warned. “He’ll disown me. But I think the cops know he would never do this. No matter how much he disliked her.”
I thought of Gabe. “Yeah. I’m sure you’re right. So is this . . . your connection to Carla . . . why you didn’t want me looking into her murder?” I asked.
She nodded, sheepish. “I panicked. I didn’t want you thinking it was me, and I wasn’t ready to tell anyone about . . . the other stuff.” She reached for my hands. “Can you forgive me, Vi?”
I nodded. “Of course.” I still felt there was something she wasn’t telling me.
“Thank you. So much.” She got up and reached into her jeans pocket. “And I’ve got my stones. I love them. I think you’ve changed my mind about all this stuff,” she declared. “I want to come to your healing circle.”
“You do?”
She nodded. “I do. Can I bring Presley? I think it would be good for her.”
“Of course,” I said, wondering what had happened to my friend. “Four o’clock tomorrow at the yoga studio.”
“I’ll be there.”
When I got to the yoga studio at three on Friday to set up, the door was still locked. Carissa Feather waited outside, wearing a turquoise outfit that made her look slightly like a peacock and shifting the weight of three giant bags, which I knew held her singing bowls. She looked annoyed.
“Hey,” I said, walking up to her.
“Hello,” she said, giving me a nod. Guess she was still mad at me about the medium thing. “I thought we were supposed to be here early?”
“We are.” I peered inside. It was dark. I rapped on the door, then pulled out my phone and texted Nat.
We’re outside.
I flashed Carissa a smile. “She’ll be right out.” I hoped. Actually, I hoped nothing had happened with Andrew. I thought of Todd’s comment about hiring someone to kill Carla. Did Andrew Mann really know a hitman?
Natalie came to the door, jolting me out of my traitorous thoughts. She unlocked it and held it wide. “Sorry,” she said. “I was on the phone out back and lost track of time.” Her hair was wet like she’d just had a shower, hanging down her back. She wore her typical yoga pants and a heavy sweatshirt in which she looked lost.
Carissa brushed past her with her bags, barely muttering a hello. Natalie sent me a raised-eyebrow look as if to say, What’s with her?
I shrugged and followed her into the studio.
“I’ll be right back,” Nat said, and vanished back into her office.
I wondered how any of us were going to heal the collective consciousness when we all seemed like we were in pretty bad moods. I went into the studio. “Everything okay, Carissa?”
She glanced up from where she was laying out the lovely tapestries the bowls sat on. “Not really. My medium lady is a fraud.”
“What?” I sat down cross-legged on the floor next to her. “You’re kidding.”
Carissa shook her head. “And I hired her for another event. Already paid her when the story came out yesterday.” She glanced at me. “You were in part one, but they retracted what they said about you.”