The Black Cat Steps on a Crack

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The Black Cat Steps on a Crack Page 6

by Kay Finch


  She turned tear-streaked eyes to me. “What will I say to them?”

  Ty’s boys, Jacob and Kyle, were consumed with playing electronic games every time I saw them. Her daughter Abby was nine going on nineteen. I’d be surprised if she hadn’t caught the scent of trouble. No way would I share this view with my friend right now. “You won’t have to say anything. Bryan will be back after he’s interviewed, and a thorough investigation will turn up the true culprit.”

  “You weren’t there. The sheriff sent Deputy Ainsley, and he came in acting like Bryan was one of America’s most wanted. Like he was itching to cuff Bryan and toss him in the back of the police car. Then when Bryan insisted on taking his own truck to the station, Ainsley tailgated him down the street, as if Bryan would make a run for it. How could Ainsley think that? He knows Bryan.”

  The authorities might also know there was no love lost between Bryan and Jane Alcott. I could only imagine the remarks Bryan might have made to the guys. Coworkers who may have already told the authorities about Bryan’s attitude toward Jane. I kept those thoughts to myself as well.

  “Deputy Ainsley is a bully who likes to act like a big dog,” I said. “Try to put that whole scene out of your mind.”

  “But what if they arrest Bryan?” Hitchcock must have heard the note of hysteria in her voice. He climbed up on her lap and curled into a ball with his head resting on her tummy.

  “They aren’t going to make that kind of snap decision,” I said. “Not unless they uncover one big stack of evidence against Bryan, which they won’t, because he did not do this. Please focus on that.”

  “Funny,” she said. “You telling me to focus when that’s what I’m always harping on you about.”

  “Turnabout is fair play,” I said. “Is that how the saying goes?”

  “I think so.” A breeze kicked up, and Tyanne rubbed her arms.

  “Do you want to go inside?” I said.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  She wasn’t fine, but I didn’t want to argue the point.

  “I’ll bet that by the time Bryan answers all their questions they’ll realize how crazy it was to suspect him in the first place.”

  She sighed. “I sure hope the sheriff talks with Bryan himself, ’cause he already got on Ainsley’s bad side.”

  “You mean because he wanted to drive his own truck to the station?”

  “I wish.” She ran her hand down Hitchcock’s back. “Bryan mouthed off about Ainsley wasting his time, called him stupid, things like that. He didn’t keep his cool one little bit. He even muttered something under his breath about Jane still causing trouble from the grave. I hope Ainsley didn’t catch that, but he might have.”

  My shoulders slumped. “That’s not good.”

  “See why I’m upset? I’m sure the other guys have stories to tell, and they won’t be about what a great husband, father, and fine upstanding citizen Bryan is. Or is most of the time.” Tyanne’s voice cracked.

  I held my hand up like a stop sign. “Let’s go through this logically. Bryan wasn’t the only one who got aggravated by Jane popping over to the job site often, right?”

  Tyanne thought a second, then nodded. “Right. Shane Wilson is a hothead with pretty much everybody, including Jane, according to the things Bryan has said to me.”

  I could attest to Wilson being a hothead. “Okay, Wilson and any of the workers or suppliers who came onto that property had the means to commit this crime. Someone discarded the piece of wire, and it got picked up.”

  “What if they prove the end of the wire matched exactly to the cut on the roll in Bryan’s truck?”

  “Maybe it did. Someone else could have gotten in there and snipped off the piece. Does he keep the truck locked all the time?”

  Tyanne shrugged. “Probably not when he’s constantly in and out for tools and stuff during the workday.”

  “Okay. How about motive? Bryan didn’t kill a woman because she annoyed him. Something much bigger must have happened. Jane might have had one big bad enemy that no one knows about.”

  Ty nodded, and I hoped she realized my points were good ones. “Maybe so.”

  “Or someone closely involved with Jane got pushed to the limit and killed her in the heat of the moment.”

  “If you’re talking closely as in intimately, that definitely wasn’t Bryan,” Ty said.

  “Do we know how Jane got along with the library committee members? Neighbors? Friends? Family?”

  Ty shook her head. “No idea.”

  “I heard she worked at the Emerald Springs library. Is that where she’s from?”

  “I don’t think so. You know, ever since I met Jane I keep thinking she looks so familiar, but I could never figure out why.”

  “Probably one of those everybody-has-a-twin things. You remember Tia Hartwell.” I’d met my twin, a caricature artist, back in October during Lavender’s pumpkin festival.

  Tyanne smiled slightly. “How could I forget? I would have put money on the two of you being sisters, no matter what your mother said on the subject.”

  “How about Jane’s family? Sometimes a family member is a person’s worst enemy.”

  “Jane never talked to me about family. We always talked books.”

  “I have to believe the sheriff will look at every possible connection. I’ll have a chat with him as soon as he’ll let me. If he isn’t checking out Jane’s history, we can do it ourselves.”

  “Unless Bryan is already off the hook,” Ty said and crossed her fingers. “You got my hopes up with all this logical thinking, but now you sound like we need to turn over every rock to free him.”

  “Don’t worry, Ty. Finding the person with the perfect means, motive, and opportunity is not going to lead the authorities to Bryan. I’m sure he has an ironclad alibi, right?”

  She turned away from me and stared into the distance. “Your aunt must be having one of her parties up at the house,” she said. “Lots of lights, and I can smell the food from way over here.”

  Was she avoiding the question?

  “Ty,” I said, ignoring the urge to snap my fingers in front of her face. “I got my last text from Jane late afternoon. When I was supposed to meet Jane for pictures at eight she didn’t show. Something bad happened to her during those hours. Where was Bryan?”

  She turned back to me. “He was working.”

  “Until dark. Then what?”

  “He has a side job for this nice couple who flips houses. The Simpsons. They keep him plenty busy in the evenings.” Tyanne checked her phone. “Bryan said he’d text me as soon as the sheriff lets him go, but I need to get back. They’re going to let him go, aren’t they?”

  I didn’t respond. Her demeanor had me worried about Bryan’s alibi. I thought about the argument I’d overheard between them in the bookstore.

  “Is everything okay between you two?”

  Tyanne shrugged and stood, letting Hitchcock gently roll out of her lap as she did so. “A little tense, maybe. Bryan’s working all the extra hours he can. We have that new washer to pay for, plus Bryan’s helping his sister out financially. She’s going through a rough patch. We talked about taking a trip for our anniversary this year, but it’s too expensive. Maybe next time.” She turned toward her car. “Hey, you have company coming so I’ll get out of your hair.”

  There was no way to know the headlights coming down the lane were headed to my place rather than one of the cottages beyond mine, but I let the comment go.

  “Bye, Sabrina.” She gave me a quick hug. “Thanks. And bye, Hitchcock.” She was at her car in five giant steps and yanked the door open.

  “Mrreow,” the cat said belatedly.

  “Keep me posted,” I called before she closed her door and started the engine. She gave me a thumbs-up, and I waved. Then I lifted Hitchcock and cuddled him as I watched my friend drive away. Turned out she was right about me getting company. The vehicle arriving was Luke Griffin’s pickup.

  He parked and got out of the truck. I
admired how good he looked in his game warden uniform as he approached and met us on the front step.

  “Glad to see you’re okay.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Tried to call.”

  “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. Tyanne complained about me not answering earlier. I never made it inside to take the dang phone off the charger.”

  “Heard you had quite the afternoon.” He patted Hitchcock on the head. “You, too.”

  I blew out a breath. “I hope the bad luck cat rumors aren’t flying around town again.”

  “Not yet,” he said with a grin. “Is Tyanne okay?”

  “She will be. She’s concerned because the sheriff had Bryan come in to answer questions about the, uh, the body.” I didn’t even want to say the word murder in the same sentence with Bryan’s name.

  “They’ll talk to everybody working on that building,” he said.

  “That’s exactly what I told her.” In my head a list was already forming of other people who could be questioned. Jane’s friends, former coworkers and neighbors in Emerald Springs, the library committee members, her social media contacts. Someone out there knew whether Jane had an enemy. Maybe a former boyfriend with a grudge. I could start doing some checking online tonight.

  I felt Luke’s breath on my ear. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  I started and looked at him.

  “You were a million miles away,” he said.

  “Not really.” I reached for the door. “C’mon in.”

  “Wish I could,” he said, “but I’m on the clock.”

  “Oh. You came by to check on me?”

  “I had an ulterior motive.” He grinned.

  “Do tell.”

  “My house is finally considered habitable. I even have an official dining table and chairs.”

  “That’s exciting. You’ve been working so hard on the reno.” Before buying his one-story fixer-upper, Luke had lived on a ranch owned by his stepfather until the ranch’s sale following the man’s death.

  “I’m ready to show off my limited culinary skills,” he said. “How’d you like to come over for dinner one night?”

  I’d been to his house before, but not for a meal. “I’d enjoy that.”

  “Mrreow,” Hitchcock said.

  Luke looked at the cat. “You can come, too, if you promise not to pick a fight with Angie.”

  His yellow Lab and my cat got along surprisingly well, in my opinion. Yes, Hitchcock sometimes taunted Angie. I couldn’t fault him for his cat-like behavior. Hitchcock trilled and slid out of my arms. He ran up the sidewalk and was through the cat door in a flash.

  “Was that a promise?” Luke said.

  “Maybe, but don’t hold him to it.”

  “How’s tomorrow night?” Luke wrapped his arms around me and leaned in for a kiss.

  I relaxed against him and savored the moment. “Tomorrow night?”

  “For dinner,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah.” I nodded. “Tomorrow’s kind of short notice, but I think I can clear my schedule.” Best-case scenario, the sheriff’s investigation would move off in another direction by then. Ty’s anxiety would level off.

  “It’s a date.” Luke lifted my chin with an index finger and planted another kiss on my lips. When he backed away and stared into my eyes, his smile dissolved. “You know, Tyanne shouldn’t have come to you with this, knowing that you’d end up in the middle of a murder investigation.”

  I stiffened. “I’m her friend, and she’s scared.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, “but now your wheels are turning.”

  “I’m naturally curious. I thought that was one of the things you liked about me.”

  “Maybe I do,” he said, “but when it comes to whatever happened to that lady, I’d rather you take a step back.” He paused for a few seconds as if debating whether to say more. “Why were you at the construction site today?”

  “Bryan called me because he saw Hitchcock there.” I told Luke about the cat’s trip to town, his digging in the dirt, and the clues we’d uncovered.

  “And where were you when Bryan called you with the news?”

  He might already know the answer to his question. “At Jane’s apartment.”

  He nodded slowly. “And there’s the problem. You were nosing around and searching for a woman who I don’t think you particularly liked in the first place.”

  “But—”

  He held up a hand. “Hear me out. You played a major role in discovering a body that someone buried very recently, no doubt in hopes that it wouldn’t be found anytime soon.”

  “I’m glad we found her,” I said, standing my ground.

  “Well, sure, but that’s not my point.”

  “And what, pray tell, is this point you’re trying so hard to make?” I didn’t like arguing, but dang it, he was pushing my buttons.

  “Do you really think this killer, whoever he or she is, would hesitate to shut you up if you get in the way?” he said.

  “You don’t—”

  He put an index finger over my lips. “I don’t want you to become the killer’s next target.”

  “Neither do I.”

  He placed his hands on my upper arms. “You’re not invincible.”

  “I know that.”

  “I want you to stay safe, Sabrina. I’m really worried about you. You have a lot of other things that could take your time that aren’t dangerous.”

  “You’re right.”

  He took a step back and checked his watch. “I need to get going. Dinner tomorrow?”

  As if our discussion had somehow jeopardized the date.

  “Tomorrow.” I nodded. “I’ll drive over.”

  He smiled. “Great. How’s seven?”

  “Sounds perfect. Until then I’ll plan to keep my nose in my fictional investigation. After all, the new book won’t write itself.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” After another quick kiss, he was gone.

  I turned around and saw Hitchcock sitting by the back door.

  “Who am I kidding?” I said to the cat. “There’s no way I can ignore the murder investigation, especially if the sheriff has Bryan Clark on the suspect list.”

  “Mrreow,” Hitchcock said in complete agreement.

  Chapter 9

  By the next morning, I grudgingly admitted to myself that Luke was right. I had nearly crossed paths with a killer, and I would be wise to stay out of things. Tyanne had texted me around midnight. Bryan was home. Not talking, but at least he wasn’t in jail. She seemed calm, convinced that the sheriff would now move on to realistic suspects. I hoped she was right.

  Curled up in the center of my bed, Hitchcock looked like he’d sleep for a week if left alone. With the dinner at Luke’s coming up that night, I planned to devote my time to writing. I wanted to be able to look him in the face and report that I’d minded my own business all day long. With my laptop and a Ziploc filled with Rocky Road Brownies I’d baked during the restless night, I headed for my favorite writing spot.

  There was something about the clinking of spoons against mugs and the murmur of conversation in Hot Stuff Coffee Shop that spurred the creative side of my brain. Not to mention the caffeine, and I’d need plenty of that this morning. I tapped my foot to “That’s the Way I Like It” by K. C. and the Sunshine Band as I sipped my coffee of choice—a flavored blend called Lavender’s Sunrise.

  With my manuscript pulled up on the laptop screen, I sat with my back to the other tables. Focus was the name of this game, never my long suit. I read over the last few pages of my work in progress to refresh my memory. Special Agent Carly Pierce was trying to gain the trust of a lawyer whose wife had gone missing. This man was accustomed to calling all the shots and desperately wanted to take matters into his own hands. I’d already written plenty of conflict between the two characters, with more to come. I reviewed my notes for the following chapter to immerse myself in the scene. As I began typing, a woman with a coffeepot in hand appeared at my shoulder.

 
“You’re Sabrina,” she said. “I heard that you write here at Hot Stuff, and I couldn’t wait to meet you. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in, well, ever. My gosh, are you writing right now?”

  I looked up at her and nodded. She had dark chin-length hair, a stout build, and wore a shirt that bore the Hot Stuff logo. A new employee, one who seemed a good bit older than Max’s other waitstaff. The woman leaned over, and I thought she intended to top off my coffee. Instead, she stared at my fingers on the keyboard as if witnessing the most remarkable feat of the century. I sat still and waited for her to move away. She didn’t budge.

  “This is a good writing place,” I said.

  Usually.

  “Is this another Carly Pierce book?” she said. “’Cause I already can’t wait for Scarlett’s Run to come out. I read the blurb online a dozen times, and it sounds so-o-o-o exciting I can hardly wait.”

  Fans were good, but I had expected the comments to begin after the book’s release.

  I smiled at her. “I hope the book lives up to your expectations.”

  “I think it will,” she said. “I’m even more excited now that I can say I met the author in person. Will you have a book signing, ’cause I’ll be there.”

  This woman was beginning to remind me of Jane Alcott.

  “I’ll have a signing at the local bookstore. Don’t have the date set yet, but I can let you know.”

  She grinned. “I love Knead to Read. It’s my favorite store in the world. Ever since I moved here, I mean, which hasn’t been all that long. Still, I adore bookstores. And libraries, too.”

  I didn’t want to get into any discussion about the library. Lucky for me, Max had noticed my plight and was hurrying our way.

  The shop owner gave me an apologetic glance. “I see you’ve met Pauline,” he said.

  Pauline glanced nervously at her boss, and he said, “Looks like Miss Sabrina could use a refill.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She gave me a sheepish look. “That’s why I came over here.” She juggled her grip on the coffeepot, nearly sloshing the hot liquid on the table as she poured.

  I slid my computer out of harm’s way.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “I’m trying to get the hang of this.”

 

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