“Sorry. Just a weird day.”
“Your conversation with Matt Bane? The one where he told you nothing important but continued to proclaim his innocence.”
That had been my story and I was sticking to it. “Yes. He definitely said he was innocent.”
“Shocking. Most criminals confess right away.”
“I know, I know.”
Jodie sighed and looked up and down the street. “Don’t know if he’s innocent or not. Don’t have a sense of it yet. But I will. He’s the obvious one at this point. That’s why he’s under arrest.”
“Right. Any less obvious suspects out there?”
“Not telling.”
I sent her a Clare-glare, but they were never as effective as hers.
Jodie opened the passenger door for me. “After you.”
“Thanks.”
She didn’t turn on the siren or the lights as we cruised up Main Street. At night the mere presence of the police car caused rowdier pockets to quiet down and jaywalkers to think twice before crossing, and though she was off-duty, she was looking around for potential trouble. As usual, the street was crowded, but the flow of people both up and down the sidewalks was brisk. The car traffic was much slower than the pedestrians and we stopped and started frequently.
As we came upon The Fountain, my attention turned toward its charming brick facade. It suddenly reminded me of a gingerbread cottage plunked next to more modern but still charming buildings. My admiration transformed to curiosity as I watched a tall woman walk into the hotel. I sat up straighter. Had that been Nell Sterling? The woman had worn a scarf around her head, but it was familiar, and had distinctly reminded me of Nell.
“What?” Jodie said.
“I . . . uh. You know, this is crazy. I’m going to get out here and walk the rest of the way up. You can turn around and head back down. It’s such a great night. No need to fight all this.”
“Well . . . ,” Jodie began.
I was out of the car before she could complete the protest. “Thanks for the great evening, Jodie. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“You’re welcome. I know you’re up to something. Just don’t get in trouble, okay?”
“I won’t.” I laughed.
“Good night, Clare.”
“Good night, Jodie.” I closed the door, grateful she’d had a long day too and wasn’t in the mood to interrogate me regarding my sudden exit.
I thought I would have to meander a moment so she wouldn’t see where I went, but she flipped on the lights and siren and was turned around and out of sight only a few seconds later.
“Atta girl,” I said.
Without further hesitation, I wove my way through the crowds and went into The Fountain.
A cozy fire was blazing again, but the newspapers from the side tables were gone, replaced by a couple of paperbacks I didn’t recognize. There was no receptionist behind the narrow counter. There was no sign of Nell, of anyone. I saw a bell I could ring but decided not to before I dashed up the stairway.
The short hall that led to the four upper-level rooms wasn’t well lit, leaving most of the space shadowy, but I could clearly see whether anyone was there, and the hallway was as empty as the lobby.
I stood on the balcony part of the second floor with my hands on my hips and pondered what to do next. I could knock on doors in search of Nell or knock on room four’s door and share the secret word with Howie if he was there, but it was late and I was mostly curious about Nell. I wished I’d asked Matt if she was staying at The Fountain. Jodie would know, but she’d turn the police car around and would have me in handcuffs if she figured out I was snooping.
The noise of a lock mechanism caused me to step back and find my way behind a tall waxy-leafed plant. I wasn’t very well hidden, but my instinct was to not get caught and it was the best cover around. I peered through a spot in between two of the leaves.
A second later, I confirmed that I had, in fact, seen Nell Sterling. The woman clad in a black scarf and coat and boots now came out of the second room on the right, which was room number three. One piece of her long blond hair had escaped all the black and made a bold statement down the front of her coat.
She had the same big bag she’d brought into the shop with her, but it didn’t seem weighed down by much of anything. She held an iPad clutched to her chest. Had I seen the iPad when she’d entered the hotel? I thought back and tried to visualize. I didn’t think I’d seen it. In fact, I was pretty sure I hadn’t. I remembered her pulling open the door and there’d been nothing in her hands at that time.
Had she taken an iPad from the bag or the room she’d been in? Whose room was it? Whose iPad?
I froze behind the poor cover of the plant. She was bound to see me.
But she couldn’t have cared less about the plant or who was behind it. Her singular focus was on getting out of the hotel. Her eyes never ventured in my direction. Her head was tilted down as if she was attempting to hide her face. Her strides were long and fast. She passed by without looking up, let alone toward me. I got a whiff of her lavender perfume before she turned and hurried down the stairs.
I was out from behind the plant the second she pushed through the front door. With what sounded to me like Jodie’s footfalls, I clomped down the stairs and out the door. There was still no one at the reception counter. Did anyone ever work there?
The good news was that the streets were still crowded, so Nell hadn’t gotten far and I could spot her easily. The better news was that she was going my way, up the hill toward my house.
I followed behind, zigging and zagging, not too concerned that I’d be caught. Even if I was seen, I could have come up with a believable story. When she was only two houses from mine, though, she stopped and turned to look back down the hill. A rush of guilt tightened my throat as I froze in place. If she looked at me, I’d smile and wave. But her searching eyes skimmed over me without even a hint of recognition. She turned into a small walkway between two buildings. I knew it was a spot that held an old rickety stairway that led to some of the bigger chalet homes located higher up on the hill than my small house. Not many people knew about the stairs, preferring to use the much more reliable paved path that you could get to only by going all the way up Main and then circling around. The stairs were a nice, if slightly unsteady, shortcut. She knew her way around Star City.
Once she was out of sight, I hurried to follow behind, but I didn’t go up the stairs. Instead, from outside the walkway, I watched her go up two short but steep flights and then take a narrow boardwalk toward the house directly above mine. If she went inside it, I could watch her from my side living room window.
I hurried to get to my house. The crowds were much lighter at the top of Main Street, where only homes, not bars or other businesses, were located. I was able to get inside quickly. I banged my knee on a side table as I darted to the window, but I still kept the lights off and slipped my glasses down to the tip of my nose to let the fog dissipate.
Though blurrily because I wasn’t looking out my lenses, I saw a light come on behind a large picture window on this side of the big house above. A second later, by the time the pain from the collision with the side table kicked in full force and my glasses were mostly usable, I saw Nell as she took off her winter wear and dropped everything on the back of a big chair. She swung around quickly as if someone had come up behind her, and then went out of sight.
“Come on,” I said as I tried to angle myself to have a better look at the house.
Another few seconds later, she came back into view, along with another person.
“Howie?” I said.
The other person stood behind a lamp next to the chair, so I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it was Howie. Nell spoke adamantly with her hands and arms. The other person was standing still; therefore it was difficult to read his posture or see him clearly.
> After Nell plopped her hands on her hips and became still herself for a couple seconds, she turned and moved to the window. She looked out, to her left, to her right, and I thought maybe down at me. But it would have been impossible to see me in the dark.
With a dramatic flourish she closed the curtains, ending the better of the two shows I’d seen that evening. I was left wondering what was going on, if it meant anything to Cassie’s murder, and if I should call Jodie and confess what I’d been up to and what I’d seen as a result. I thought Jodie might be irritated at my behavior, but there was no way to explain why I’d been compelled to follow Nell into The Fountain. For a moment I wondered if I had indeed become starstruck. If that was the case, Jodie would figuratively shake me and tell me to snap out of it.
After that shallow study of my own psyche, I decided two things—that I wouldn’t call Jodie, and that I could never have been able to close those curtains with such style.
7
“Large or small?” Seth said as he held the two cups toward me.
“Large for sure. I’ve been up most of the night.”
“Why?” He thought a moment. “And why didn’t you call me to come keep you company?”
It was impossible not to duplicate his wry smile. Our relationship had progressed nicely, though we weren’t ready to spend every night together. I had purchased an extra toothbrush for him, but I hadn’t told him about it yet. One step at a time, even when you’re almost thirty.
“I’ve been spying,” I said as I took the large cup of coffee. It would be only the first of many today, I was sure. “Follow me.”
Seth followed me to the side window. I’d turned a chair so I could be more comfortable as I watched the house above. I’d tried to go to bed, but the window kept drawing me down from my bedroom loft. Finally I’d moved the chair and hoped I’d just fall asleep there, and wake up to find I was magically over this weird obsession.
“Here. You sit in the chair. I’ll lean against the window ledge and talk to you. It will look fairly normal if anyone can see in. Just let me know if you see anyone come out of that side door,” I said.
“Okay. It’s not a great angle, but I’ll do my best.” Seth leaned against the left arm of the well-used and comfortable chair, twisted his neck just right, and peered up and out, like I had done most of the night.
“I’m oddly and totally obsessed,” I said.
“I’d say. But with what?”
I knew saying the words out loud would make the entire situation even crazier than I already thought it was, but I told Seth about meeting with Matt, my previous evening’s activities, and my ultimate curiosity about who had gone in that house with Nell and why she had that iPad. Was Howie really her mystery guest?
He listened carefully and didn’t scoff once, though a couple of times I saw him work to hold back a comment. I appreciated the restraint.
“Why do you need to know? What does it matter?” he finally asked.
“I think it’s mostly the fact that Howie hasn’t done anything to help Matt. There’s been no attorney. I thought attorneys were supposed to get there quickly. Matt asked me to talk to Howie. Nell must have gone into a room that wasn’t hers. I’m pretty sure she didn’t have the iPad when she went in. I didn’t know she was at the house right above mine. I’m not even sure any of it is important to the murder, but what are the people in Matt’s life up to? I fell asleep a couple times in the chair, so I might have missed it anyway.” I paused and looked up out the window. “What do you think?”
A sip of coffee later, Seth said, “I think you should have called me. We could have made better use of the time, and then you and I could have traded shifts spying on the Hollywood people.”
I turned back and looked at him. His blue eyes were so intelligent that they sometimes verged on being unreal, as if they were windows to the wheels and dials of a computer that was behind them instead of just a human brain. I’d figured out early on that he was geologist smart. It was a little later that I learned he was just plain old smart with a head full of nerdy kinds of knowledge and a surprisingly large dose of common sense to complete the package.
“You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Not really, but I also think it’s suspicious that Nell and Adele came into The Rescued Word on the same day, at almost the same time. I know it’s a small town, but that’s weird. Your subconscious is just working through things. Listen to it, particularly if you sense danger ahead. And then run the other way.”
Waves of gooey things washed through me when I looked at him. These waves were new to me. My only other serious relationship had been with Creighton, and though I’d enjoyed most of my time with him, there had been no waves there, unless you counted the rocky variety when he cheated on me.
I wasn’t quite sure what to do with all this new emotion. Sometimes I just gave in and threw myself at Seth, but many times we weren’t in an appropriate place to do that. We might have been able to take some time this morning, but I decided I would have been far too distracted. Later.
“You’re kind of awesome, you know?” I said.
“I am? Why, thank you. You’re awesomer.” His eyes smiled at me over the brim of the cup.
“Anyway,” I said. “I should have called, but I didn’t want to bother you. I knew you needed to drive south today. I didn’t want to mess up your sleep schedule.”
Seth laughed. “Clare, though I thought I’d made it pretty clear, I’ll reinforce it now. You should mess up my sleep schedule as much as you want. Guys typically don’t mind that sort of thing. I’m a guy. And there’s always coffee.”
“Got it.” I blushed.
“All right. Well, unless we’re prepared to take the morning off . . . hey, there’s someone coming out of the house.”
If he’d been looking in my direction, he would have seen my blond curls fluff as my head swung around.
“Howie,” I said.
He didn’t look guilty, as if he was trying to sneak away or not be seen. No walk of shame. He didn’t seem to be either happy or sad. He was simply leaving the house.
“Now that you know it’s him, what do you suppose it all means? Does it matter?” Seth asked as he stood from the chair and peered up toward the walkway Howie had taken. He was no longer in sight.
“All it means is that I’m glad to know it’s him. I would have hated to spend a sleepless night for nothing.”
“You going to tell Jodie?”
“Yeah. Well, I don’t know. I didn’t tell her that Matt asked me to find and talk to Howie. And she’ll think I’ve lost my mind. I’m not sure what I’ll do. Except . . .” Seth was so tall that I had to lift myself up to my toes to kiss him. He smelled like coffee and soap and I thought I saw a small dot of shaving cream behind his ear. “Next time call you.”
“Good plan.”
The police station parking lot was jam-packed, but not with the vehicles of law enforcement officers, victims wanting to report a crime, or criminals, but with news vans and reporters.
“Oh boy,” I said as I pulled into the lot. I drove slowly around people wrapped up in winter gear and holding cameras and microphones, all of them visibly disappointed when they got a good look at me. If they knew that yesterday I’d been sent on a mission by the incarcerated movie star, I’m sure I would have been swarmed. The clouds above weren’t keeping us as warm this morning. The cold air made all their exposed noses and cheeks rosy, and I knew snow was again imminent.
Miraculously, a parking spot was being vacated at the end of the row. Once it was available, I took it so quickly that my car rocked as I shifted it into park.
“Smooth,” I muttered to myself.
I’d taken a book home a couple nights ago. A project passed on to me by Chester, it sat on the passenger seat, wrapped in a brown paper bag. I’d acquired the habit of taking book projects home, purely for sec
urity’s sake. I could keep my eye on books inside my house much easier than if I left them in the workshop. Not that we had many visitors back there, but I was just paranoid enough not to fully trust our less-than-perfect security system, which was made up of a few unreliable cameras. My First Summer in the Sierra, by John Muir, was one of Chester’s favorite books. Mr. Muir’s diary of his trek through the foothills of the Sierra Nevada in 1869—driving a flock of sheep—was first published in 1911, long before the author, a Scottish immigrant, became known as a preservationist and wildlands advocate. The diary was not only interesting but rich with description and detailed sketches. The book, inside a paper bag and on my passenger seat, was an early printing, but there was no date listed on the copyright page. We’d been hired to see if we could find out more about the exact print date as well as the origin of a bookplate inside. Chester had been secretive about the identity of the client, but I hadn’t pushed him too much to tell me a name. Sometimes Chester just liked to be secretive.
There was a chance that the author himself had signed the bookplate, but the writing on it was faded and almost impossible to read. I debated taking the book inside the police station with me, but decided it would probably be fine in the car.
I made my way, mostly unimpeded, into the station, and was greeted inside the front door by Linus. I wondered if he ever went home.
“Can you believe that craziness out there? I’ve been moved here to keep everyone out,” he said authoritatively. “You’re welcome inside, though.”
“Thanks. Yes, it’s definitely crazy. Matt Bane’s pretty famous.”
“Yes, ma’am, but this sort of thing can get people in trouble. Too much of a distraction. We need to get him moved to Salt Lake as soon as possible.”
“Makes sense. Thanks, Linus,” I said as I went through the second set of doors.
I didn’t know if Jodie was at work yet. I’d called, but she hadn’t answered. However, she frequently had to return calls that she’d been too busy to answer. Before Seth left for his trek to southern Utah for the day, we’d talked through everything again. We agreed that I should let Jodie in on my observations, even if they turned out to mean nothing.
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