by Emmie Lyn
“Who’s there, Sunshine?” I felt Hitch behind me and saw a dark cloud pass over Mick’s face. He’d always hated my friendship with Hitch. Hearing that pet nickname probably threw him over the edge with jealousy.
“Officer Walker, did the state police send you on an errand?” Hitch asked, turning the knife a full twist at Mick’s demotion.
Mick’s eyes were a glowing pit of fury.
He smiled, but it certainly didn’t reach those angry eyes.
“I have my own case, and I have some questions for you, Hitchner. We can do it here, or you can come to the station. Your choice.”
“What do you think, Sunshine? Do you want to invite Officer Walker inside?” Hitch gently squeezed my shoulder and sent me a shot of courage.
I held my hand out in welcome to Mick. “Okay. Come on in, Mick.”
Showtime, I told myself.
Just remember what’s at stake.
Everything.
17
Tilly made herself comfortable in my chair that faced the window. She insisted on having an outside view at all times to prepare for the unexpected. She said that strategy had saved her life more than once. Maybe, but she also liked to exaggerate.
Hitch and I sat on the couch, which left my wobbly-legged chair for Mick.
With great fanfare, Mick set a recorder on his thigh. “Do I have your permission to record this conversation, Mr. Hitchner?” Now that he was doing official business, he’d added the formal title.
“Yes,” Hitch said.
Mick hit a button and recorded his name, date, location, and the names of everyone present.
“Mr. Hitchner,” Mick said, “where were you this morning?”
I wondered if this was some kind of trick question because Mick had seen us at the greenhouse.
Hitch crossed his legs and gave Mick that laid-back easy smile. “Well, I spoke to you at the new business property Sunny and I bought yesterday, Mick. So, that’s where I was.”
He looked at me and rolled his eyes. In a whisper the recorder wouldn’t pick up, he added. “At the rate we’re going, this is going to be a long interview.”
“And, before that?” Mick asked.
“My house.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
“I can,” Tilly said with her hand raised. “I took Hitch some muffins first thing like I do on most mornings. Otherwise, I’m afraid he won’t get enough to eat. And, you know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Do you eat in the morning, Mick?” She cocked her head and waited for an answer.
Hitch jabbed me in the side with his elbow, which set off a giggle.
“Tilly,” Mick said. “Please keep your comments to yourself. All these questions are for Mr. Hitchner.”
“But, Mick,” she whined, “you asked if anyone could verify that he was at his house. I’m that anyone who just verified his whereabouts.”
“I was asking Mr. Hitchner if he knew of anyone who could verify that he was home. If there are any more outbursts, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Understand?”
“I was only trying to help.” She stuck her bottom lip out and crossed her arms. The chance that Tilly could keep quiet was about the same chance that I’d ever learn to fly.
“Tilly was right,” Hitch said. “She brought me muffins. Delicious raspberry cream cheese muffins. Did you make them, Tilly?” Hitch asked.
She guffawed. “You know I don’t go near the kitchen, Hitch. Except for food that doesn’t need to go on the stove or in the oven.”
“I’m asking the questions!” Mick said. From his tone of voice, he was getting frustrated and having trouble keeping his cool. This was all on tape, and I was positive he didn’t want his superiors to hear him lose control in front of a potential witness.
I leaned back, enjoying the show immensely.
“Mr. Hitchner, did you go to Maxine Salter’s home yesterday?” Again, that infuriating smile, this time directed at me.
“Yes.”
“Did you take any pictures?”
“Yesterday? Yes.”
“Of what?”
“I took lots of pictures of our new business property as a before memory to show customers for after we get all the renovations done.”
“I meant when you were at Maxine’s house. Did you take any photos when you were in her house?”
“I did.”
“And, what did you take a picture of?”
“Actually, I took several. Mostly photos of Sunny in Maxine’s beautiful conservatory. The light was perfect to accentuate her flawless skin and shiny hair.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Would you like to see them?”
Mick took the phone and scrolled through the photos. “Maxine said you took a picture of her bonsai tree?”
“Her bonsai tree?” Hitch looked at me with his eyebrows raised. “What’s he talking about?”
I shrugged and squeaked all innocent like, “I don’t know,” hoping Mick didn’t catch the nervous twitch starting in my eye.
Mick leaned forward and the chair wobbled, somehow reducing his authority. He sat up straighter but didn’t quite recover his superior attitude. “Oh, come on, you two,” he said. “Quit playing around. Maxine has a collection of plants from Harry Jenson, and she said you took a picture of the bonsai tree.”
Hitch shook his head, a picture of confusion pasted on his handsome face. “Huh. I’m not sure why Maxine would have those valuable plants. Do you know how much Harry’s bonsai tree is worth?” He whistled, the way men do when they’re talking about something important, like cars or fish they’ve caught. “More than you’ll make in a lifetime, Mick. Isn’t it odd that those plants are in Maxine’s conservatory and Harry is dead now?”
That statement hung in the air for Mick to consider. It was masterful how Hitch had twisted the whole bit about the tree away from himself and right back where it belonged—on Maxine.
Mick pushed a button on the recorder with a disgusted snap. “That’s all for today.” He stood up. “I’ll let myself out.” I didn’t think that was for our convenience.
Maybe Mick’s petulance was making a point. Maybe it was because things didn’t go the way he had planned. Maybe Maxine had gotten his hopes up after she’d planted some concocted version of her story in his head. At any rate, I felt a teensy tiny bit sorry for him until he turned around at the door.
“Whatever you did with that plant, you won’t get away with it,” he snarled.
I mean, that bit of nastiness was uncalled for.
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Tilly said. She was never one to let a golden opportunity slip by. She watched through my front window and said, “The coast is clear,” when he drove off.
“Now, tell me what’s going on.” She pointed at my rock garden. “Oh, nice new little tree you have out there, Sunny. Where’d you get it? I want one just like that.”
Hitch and I both cracked up.
“That, Tilly,” I said, “is the bonsai tree that poor Officer Walker is looking for. Straight out of Maxine’s conservatory.”
She looked at me, then at Hitch. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. I savored this rare moment when Tilly Morris’s tongue was silent.
Finally, she managed to utter, “How?”
“Gina said someone planted it in her car. She didn’t want anything to do with it, so she brought it here,” I explained. “And now, she’s gone into hiding.”
“I suppose that’s smart on her part,” Tilly said. “The way Maxine operates, Gina is a disposable item in her tool kit. If Maxine killed Harry after that argument I witnessed, she’ll do anything to divert attention to someone else. Poor Gina.”
“And get Mick to do her dirty work,” Hitch added.
I laughed. “She needs someone smarter than Officer Walker if she plans to take you down, Hitch. He didn’t know if he was coming or going by the time he left.”
“Do you think Maxine offered him a reward to find the bonsai?” Hitch asked. “T
hat would be a clever way to get him running around looking for a needle in a haystack for her.”
“Or, a tree in a garden,” I said.
From Tilly’s chuckle, I knew she had mischief on her mind.
“Only Maxine and Conrad would notice that bonsai for what it is, Sunny. How about we camouflage it with some pink flamingoes. If Maxine did a drive by, that sight would be too horrible for her to notice. She’d turned up her nose at the tacky pink birds.”
I high-fived Tilly and she clapped her hands with delight. “I can see her face now, all puckery like an old dried apple.” Tilly sucked her lips together and crossed her eyes to give me a preview. “It’s a perfect idea and the best part?” Her gleeful expression was exactly Tilly at her happiest. “I have a flock of pink flamingoes in my garage.”
Of course, she did. I hoped it worked because having that bonsai out in the open was asking for trouble.
The tree was the reason Hitch got shot in the arm.
The next time, the shooter might aim to kill.
This was getting too dangerous for my liking.
How would we stay safe and get our business going?
18
Tilly took great pleasure in creating an artistic arrangement of her flamingo flock around the stolen bonsai tree. When she finished, the tree branches wove in and out of stick-like flamingo legs as if the flock was clustered at the water’s edge. I admired her handiwork and crossed my fingers that this small effort might conceal our problem for now before I went inside.
Hitch sat at the table hovered over his tablet.
“I want to go check on the kittens and take them food, Hitch. Will you come with me?” I didn’t want to admit to him that going by myself, after everything that had happened, was all a bit much for my nerves.
“I’ll meet you there, okay?” he said. “Take Jasper if you’re feeling a little vulnerable.
I stared at him in disbelief. “How do you do that? You always know what I’m thinking. It’s not fair, Hitch. And you walk around with your stone face expression like nothing ever bothers you.”
He gave my shoulder an affectionate tweak. “You just answered your own question, Sunshine. All your emotions light up your face like fireworks. That’s one of your qualities that I find hard to resist.”
Really? I felt my face warming. Maybe being expressive had its perks.
“All I do is hide stuff.” Hitch said. “If I let one speck of concern or indecision show when I’m working as a security guard, I lose the upper hand. That could mean my life, or this.”
He held up his injured arm. My stomach curled at the thought of Hitch taking a bullet.
But he just grimaced and told his story. “I should have known that Harry had a gun that night, but I let my guard down thinking I had every angle covered. Why he decided to take a shot, though, is still something I haven’t figured out. If you don’t want to be an open book, work on a good poker face.”
“I can do that,” I said, even though I knew it was a lie.
“Sunny? Say it like you mean it, even if you don’t.” He grinned that dimple-filled grin, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Maybe I could learn to fool some of the people some of the time, but I’d probably never fool Hitch. He knew me too well.
I broke away from his gaze and called my favorite companion. “Come on Jasper. We’ve got kitties to feed.”
Armed with kitty crunchies, bowls, fleece blankets, and the best nanny dog around, we drove toward my new dream. Sure, I had my doubts about making the Shakes and Cakes Shop come to life, but it was time to put Tilly’s nonstop advice into action: give it your best shot and see what happens.
At least the location was perfect. After renovations, the building would buzz with customers. I was sure of that. And best of all—I had plenty of ideas.
I turned into the parking lot, happy to see I had the place to myself. The police must have bagged and tagged all the evidence they could find. Now they faced the tedious task of following the clues to find Harry’s murderer.
I hoped they didn’t find a link to Hitch. Deep in my gut, I knew he didn’t kill Harry. An excellent shot, if he’d wanted to, he could have picked Harry off the night of the shooting, claiming self-defense. No, one thing we’ve learned from Harry’s appearance here at the auction in Pineville, other people wanted him dead. Maxine and Conrad immediately came to mind.
Jasper jumped out as soon as I opened my car and made a beeline for the door. She whined and scratched to get in.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, suddenly less confident about being here alone. The quiet rustle of leaves in the surrounding trees and cawing of crows overhead should have made me feel at peace. Instead, hairs prickled on my neck.
I opened the door, letting Jasper lead the way.
Of course, she went straight to the greenhouse and the corner where we’d left Mama Cat and her kittens.
No mews met my ears, only Jasper’s nails clicking on the cement floor.
I moved the old boxes hiding her spot and peeked into an empty basket.
“Oh no, Jasper! Where did they go?”
Did Mama Cat move her family thinking we were the enemy? Jasper poked her nose around until we heard a faint mew coming from the hole. I stood breathless as a little tabby face peeked out. One kitten after another pushed through the opening and batted Jasper’s nose. Mama Cat had hidden her babies while she scouted up a meal and now she returned to her charges. What a smart mama.
I crouched and gave her several strokes along the length of her body, and she rewarded me with a purr. At least, she wasn’t skittish. After filling the bowls with dry food and fresh water, I sat on the floor and watched the family chow down.
“You’re gonna love the new garden we’ve got planned for you,” I said to Mama Cat. I pictured the kittens in our man-made forest instead of this dirty corner.
A man croaked, “Sunny?” breaking into my reverie. I turned to the door on a stab of fear at the sound of Conrad’s voice behind me. Here I was, alone, lost in my daydream, and caught by one of the people I suspected might have killed Harry.
I gulped instead of greeting him, and instinctively reached for Jasper. I pulled her close to me, my eyes wide with questions for the intruder. Jasper hadn’t growled, which made me feel slightly safer. Wouldn’t she sense if Conrad planned to harm me?
“Sorry,” Conrad said, coming toward me. “I didn’t mean to surprise you, but I saw your car and…”
I stood up feeling less vulnerable on my feet instead of at his feet. “And what, Conrad?” Jasper leaned into my leg. At least she wasn’t lapping at the intruder’s hand. “Didn’t Hitch make it clear that you aren’t welcome here?”
Conrad ran his fingers through his thinning hair. Stubble sprouted on his face and a sadness filled his eyes. “I need your help,” he said.
We stared at each other for what felt like much too long. Then, Mama Cat wove in and out between my legs, purring, and head butting me. I picked her up. “What is it, Mama Cat?”
“Mama Cat?” Conrad asked. “That’s her name?”
“Well, for now.”
“And the kittens? Have you named them, yet?” He squatted down and groaned a little. “These knees aren’t what they used to be,” he said and picked up the tiniest one that he’d rescued from falling off Maxine’s lap. The one with sapphire blue eyes, rimmed by white and set in mostly gray fur, soft as down.
What was he doing with all this friendly kitty behavior? I didn’t want to like this man and be disloyal to Hitch’s feelings. But he seemed to really care. What would it hurt just to listen to him?
Conrad held up the kitten and grinned at it, eye to eye. “How about Razzleberry? Someone has to give you a name.”
He was talking to the kitten but seemed to be waiting for a reply from me. What should I do? Jasper woofed, breaking the tension. Both Conrad and I laughed.
“Razzleberry it is, then,” I said.
“So.” Conrad tucked Razzleberry bet
ween Mama Cat and my arm. “Will you help me?”
“If I can,” I said brightly, even though it was a lie. Hitch’s motivational speech was kicking in. I’d help Hitch in a heartbeat. This guy? Not so much.
Conrad sat on the floor and folded himself into a cross-legged position, surprising agility for his age, I thought.
I sat down, too, but kept Jasper between us. I had to find out what he wanted.
It was the least I could do to satisfy my curiosity.
I hoped I wasn’t making a terrible mistake.
19
“I’m not the enemy,” Conrad said.
He wasn’t a friend, either, I told myself. What was the something in between called? Frenemy?
“I noticed how much you liked these.” He handed me a waxed paper bag.
I had an unhealthy weakness for cinnamon-covered donut holes. The aroma was intoxicating, and the taste was to die for. What? Not the best thought but I popped one in my mouth anyway. I hoped this craving wasn’t going to get me in trouble.
“Conrad, why do you need my help?” I mumbled around the mouthful of deliciousness. “You’re the reason Hitch was shot.”
While I waited for his denial or flimsy excuse about that disaster, the kittens decided that Jasper was a mountain to be conquered. They climbed over her paws and up her side, even tackled her fluffy tail. Jasper tolerated all of it. No, I think she enjoyed the attention.
Conrad ignored the kittens and said, “That was never part of the plan.”
“What plan?” I looked at him, sensing there was a lot hidden behind that comment.
“Our plan,” he answered as if that clarified anything.
“Yours and Maxine’s?”
His eyebrows jumped up and he let out a harrumph.
“Listen, Conrad. I think your words were, ‘I need your help.’” I was getting tired of his cat and mouse game, and my survival instinct told me to get rid of this con man.
“Okay. I’ll level with you, but don’t tell Hitch. Deal?”