“Why? What can I do? I’m not a lawyer.”
Again, Katie sounded like the reason should be apparent. “Obviously I can’t trust what the police are going to do if Officer Green has it out for me. I need you to work your magic.”
“My magic?”
“Good grief, yes, Fred. Your magic! You’re the one who cleared Barry’s name when he was accused of killing Opal.” She softened to nearly a whisper, making me wonder if someone was listening in. “I need you to figure out who did this.”
After an almost sleepless night, I knew where to start. Even though I was still new to town, I was fairly certain I’d already discovered the biggest gossips among the shopkeepers. Gossip seemed to be the best bet. I didn’t know much about Declan or the rest of the Diamond family, other than what Barry had told me, but if he was nearly as horrible as Barry said, I was willing to bet there were plenty of stories about Declan. My first thought was Anna and Carl Hansen, who owned the home decor shop. My initial impression of them had been their business ownership was little more than a front so they could be in the center of the hubbub at all times. But they were down the street and across the block from Bushy’s, while the runners-up in the gossip competition were a mere few doors down. So they were the winners.
First things first, though. After a bad night, I needed caffeine. Although, that was really just an excuse. I could sleep twelve hours and still need caffeine to function. As Watson and I walked toward the Black Bear Roaster, I had to admit something to myself. Only part of my tossing and turning had been worry over my friend. There was plenty of that. I hated the thought of Katie spending the night in a cell, hated that she was caught in the middle of another murder drama just a few short weeks after the first. The same could be said for myself, I knew. And I needed to quit thinking of it as a murder investigation. Declan was simply unconscious, not dead. For that matter, I needed to quit thinking of it as an investigation. I wasn’t the police. I was an ex-teacher turned ex-publisher turned bookshop owner who was also the daughter of a police detective. That was all.
But that was the other reason I’d been unable to sleep, not just worry over Katie, but a tingle of excitement. The realization made me feel guilty. I shouldn’t be feeling anything like that, and not only because of Katie. A man was almost killed, and part of me felt like I’d been handed an early Christmas present. This wasn’t a pretty little puzzle I had to put together. It was serious. Life and death. One that wasn’t even my job to do.
And yet….
I glanced at Watson as I opened the door to the coffee shop, and he peered up at me, eyes wide and bright. At least one of us was fully rested, if his soft snores throughout the endless hours had been any indication. “Your mama needs therapy or something.”
Watson seemed to consider, then flared his nose at the scents drifting our way, and led me inside.
He was right. Might as well focus on the task at hand. And if I was finding enjoyment over what Katie had asked me to do, so be it. Maybe I was simply getting a thrill by trying to help my friend.
Before I could mock myself for that thought, Carla spotted me from behind the counter, gave a big wave, then ushered me over. Despite my caffeine addiction, I’d never met her before, but judging from her expansive belly, I didn’t need to be an actual police detective to determine who she was.
“You’re Fred, right?”
I nodded. “Yes. And this is Watson. You’re Carla.”
She flashed a half smile, then leaned toward me across the counter, as much as she was able. “What in the world is going on? I got a voicemail from Katie this morning, letting me know she wouldn’t be at work today. I had to drag my ever-expanding girth outta bed before dawn. She said something had come up and she’d explain to me when she came back in.” Carla gestured over my shoulder toward the slew of customers. “But everyone’s talking about her being arrested for trying to kill Declan Diamond.”
For a heartbeat I debated lying, or at least playing coy. I wasn’t certain why Katie hadn’t just been upfront in the message, but it wouldn’t do any good for me to play along at this point. “That’s true.” I decided to bend the truth, just a touch. Doubtlessly Carla would pass along anything I said, so maybe it would help some of the rumors die down. “She and I walked into the toy store yesterday and found Declan on the ground. Someone had tried to strangle him.”
“Strangle?” Carla’s eyes grew wider. “I heard that she bashed Declan over the head and he’s in a coma.”
Good Lord. That sentence alone made me miss the city, where you could wander around for an entire day and not bump into anyone you knew. Katie had been arrested in the wee hours of the night, and already the town was talking about how she was an attempted murderer. How in the world did people know about Declan getting hit on the head? Katie and I hadn’t even known that at the time. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I knew the answer. Obviously Susan Green was enjoying letting her town know all about Katie Pizzolato. I leveled my gaze at Carla, making sure to keep my tone firm yet friendly. If I sounded the least bit defensive, I would only make matters worse.
“I can guarantee you, she did not bash Declan over the head. Nor did she try to strangle him. The only thing Katie did was try to save his life, which she did.”
“Oh!” Carla gave a tiny flinch and sounded a little bit chastised despite my effort at neutrality. “Oh, well then. That’s… good of her.” Carla passed a hand over her belly. “I’m glad to hear it. She’s a sweet girl, a little odd, but likable, I suppose. A bit evasive when people try to get to know her better, especially around family.”
I knew that much to be true. She didn’t talk about family even with me. But I hadn’t found it too big of a concern. Not everyone had a great family life. Despite our growing closeness, we’d known each other little more than a month. Not enough time to trust me with whatever hurts she might have. That Carla thought she was owed those details as Katie’s new boss was nearly enough to make me turn Watson around and head to the other coffee shop clear across town. Then I remembered the quickly growing number of shops I was avoiding. I couldn’t add another to the list.
“Well, I can promise you, Katie is not a murderer. And her family life doesn’t keep her from being an excellent barista and employee.” Might as well go for gold; it might help Katie out when she returned. “Plus, I can attest personally that she’s one of the best bakers I’ve ever known. She could probably triple your business.”
From the grimace that crossed Carla’s lips, I knew it was a losing battle.
Before she could say anything else, I decided to make my order. It was clear any information I might get from Carla would be of the pure speculation variety. At least the gossip Anna and Carl—and my uncles—dealt in seemed fact-based. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I really must get going. Would you mind getting me a large dirty chai and one of your pumpkin scones?” Maybe it would be softer first thing in the morning. If not, it looked like Watson would be breaking his diet yet again.
A few minutes later, Watson and I were back outside. I thought I’d hop into my Mini Cooper and drive the two blocks to my uncles’ antique shop, but instead I decided to walk. If I really was going to be digging around, trying to figure out who might have it in for Declan Diamond, I needed to make myself a little more present among the other shopkeepers and definitely stop avoiding them. Even so, when I was close to Paws, I hurried Watson to the other side of the street. I considered it a win that I didn’t attempt another crabwalk.
Before giving Watson the other half of the dry pumpkin scone, I double-checked to make certain I’d put waste bags into my purse. Luckily for him, I had, and he voraciously enjoyed his second breakfast.
I spared a glance into the toyshop as we passed. The door was locked, and the windows dark, like I’d expected. Another wave of guilt cut through me. Regardless of how I felt about Declan, his wife, his pregnant wife, had to worry about her husband dying at Christmas. I hadn’t even thought of her in that way—
as a wife, expectant mother, someone who loved her husband and was now hurting.
Of course, none of that was true if the other ways I had been thinking about her were accurate. All through the night, I’d speculated on motives for why she might try to kill him. Just from the brief flash I’d seen through the window two nights before, their marriage definitely wasn’t without strife. Then again, lots of marriages were less-than-perfect and didn’t result in murder, but maybe the brother who’d stepped between Declan and Daphne? The father Declan had pushed aside and taken his business and freedom? Maybe even a combo of the three?
Well, it wasn’t my job to worry about Daphne and how she might be feeling. That was what the rest of her family was for. My job was to try to figure out…. I shook my head at the thought as I pushed open the door to my uncles’ antique shop. No, it wasn’t my job to find out who tried to kill Declan. But I was going to do it anyway. Katie was right. I’d helped to clear Barry’s name and I would clear hers.
“Bless my soul, Fred and Watson. My day just got better.” Gary smiled at me from where he knelt on the floor with a box of tools open at the base of a lamp. He issued a deep groan as he pushed himself from his knees to a standing position. At over six foot and maintaining the heavy muscles of his pro-football years, even at the age of sixty, he dwarfed me as he wrapped me in a hug. “Always good to see you, sweetheart.”
“You too, Uncle Gary.” And it was. Even though Gary was my uncle through marriage, he always brought to mind my father, with his deep voice, strong body, and calm, unshakable demeanor.
After releasing me, he gave Watson a quick pat on the head then refocused on me. “You’re either here because you decided to get the sofa and lamp for your shop, or you’re snooping around trying to help your friend.”
If Carla knew about Katie, no part of me was surprised Gary knew as well. “Both, actually. Though any help you might give me on Katie is more important than the antiques, of course.”
“No niece of mine is going to say anything is more important than antiques.” My mom’s brother, Percival, rounded a corner in their mazelike antique shop and shook his finger at me. “Even if murder is involved, or attempted murder, in this case.” Though he was the exact height as his husband, the two of them couldn’t be more different. Percival was a decade older, and his wispy stature was the antithesis of Gary’s bulk. He gave me a warm hug, then leaned his face close, pointing to his balding head. “Give your uncle a kiss, darling. We’re under the mistletoe.”
I had no idea how I’d missed it, but sure enough, he’d donned a headband with a long spring at the center and a sprig of mistletoe bobbing over us both. With a chuckle, I gave him a quick peck on the lips before he bent to pat Watson.
Watson let out a growl and backed up, his wide eyes startled as he stared at the waving mistletoe.
Percival gasped and stood up, offended. “Well, I never. See if you ever get a treat from me again, little one.”
And at that word, I could see the war raging in Watson. Kill the alien creature floating above Percival’s head or get a treat. To my shock, murder won. Watson growled again, this time showing his teeth.
I pointed toward the mistletoe. “You may want to give him a little space. I don’t think Watson’s a fan of your headband.”
Understanding dawned in Percival’s eyes, but he lifted his chin. “Well, he’ll have to get with it. Fashion is fashion.” He cast an accusatory glance at my salmon-hued broomstick skirt, but uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut. “Thankfully, he’s a corgi, and I know he’s part super sleuth like his mama, but even he can’t reach up here.”
“But I wish he could.” Gary bugged his eyes out at me. “I’ve been waiting for that stupid headband to fall apart for twenty years. I’m pretty sure it’s going to outlive us both.”
Percival smacked Gary’s arm but turned his attention to me. “So what’s this I hear about something being more important than antiques? You can’t tell me that sofa and lamp aren’t going to be absolute perfection in your cozy little bookshop.”
“No, you’re right. I can’t. I was just telling Gary I’ve decided to take both of them. I’m going to put them in the mystery room, the one with the river rock fireplace, like you suggested.”
“Well, of course you are, you brilliant woman. You wouldn’t make any other choice.” Percival smiled in satisfaction. “Now if you’d just listen to me about your wardrobe….”
I laughed, repaying the smack on Gary’s arm with one of my own. “I knew it would be too good to be true for you to keep your opinions to yourself.”
“Pretty sure a man wearing a mistletoe headband has no room to talk about your wardrobe, Fred.” Gary cast a sidelong glance at Percival, then smiled at me warmly. “You look beautiful as always. I think your hair has grown longer. Mountain life must be agreeing with you.”
I normally kept my hair a little lower than my shoulder blades, but it had gotten long, especially on the days when it went from curly to merely wavy. And with the lack of humidity, this was happening more than it had in Kansas City. “I think it is. I really do love it here. Despite the crime rate.”
Percival snorted. “Darling, I’m afraid we’re going to have to blame that one on you. You walk into town, and we have our first murder in years, and now an attempted one.” He cocked his head. “Although, I suppose that isn’t true. We just didn’t know about some of the other murders.”
“Speaking of, you said you weren’t here just for the sofa and lamp. So fill us in.” Gary motioned toward the sofa that would soon be in my shop. We crossed the space, and Percival and I sat on the sofa, with Gary taking a seat in an ornate armchair at its side.
I unhooked Watson’s leash so he could explore and get away from Percival’s mistletoe. “That’s actually what I wanted from you. To fill me in. I only met Declan and his family once, two nights ago. And at first I found him very charming. But by the end, I’d changed my mind. And from what Barry tells me, my second impression was the correct one.”
“If your first impression was that the man was a gorgeous, stunning, ravishingly handsome man, my darling niece, then you would be correct.” Percival made a fanning motion with his hand in front of his face.
Gary rolled his eyes. “And if your second impression was that he was a selfish, egomaniacal narcissist, then you would also be correct.”
“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Percival shrugged and gave a nod that was probably supposed to come off as wise. “All those things can be said just as truly about endless ugly people. If you’re going to be evil, you might as well look good doing it.”
“Evil? You really think he’s evil?”
To my surprise, though it hadn’t been his claim, Gary nodded. And while it was completely in Percival’s nature to exaggerate, it wasn’t true for Gary. “Why? Because of what he did to his father?”
“Oh, so you do know. Though that makes sense since you spoke to Barry.” All humor left Percival’s voice as his eyes darkened. “Duncan was never the most cheerful of people. Even as a kid, everyone said he had the soul of an old man. But he was kind, even if a little abrasive. And one of the best woodcraftsman I’ve ever seen. Besides when he lost Della, having his no-good son steal his business out from under him was the most devastated I’ve ever seen a man.”
“Devastated enough to kill his own son?”
Gary and Percival both flinched, and it was Gary who responded. “You really are your father’s daughter, aren’t you? No beating around the bush and right to the point.”
Percival didn’t wait for me to respond. “No. And maybe that’s the problem. No matter what Declan did, Duncan could never hurt him, not even spank him. Those two boys were his weakness. Even Della said so. He spoiled them both rotten. I know Dolan’s a bit of a strange bird, but he turned out fine despite it all. Declan didn’t.”
I decided to push a little more. Percival was right. That had been my father’s approach—direct and upfront. I knew it wouldn’t always work with th
e people in town, but I wasn’t trying to manipulate my uncles. “Then what about Dolan or Daphne? If Declan was so evil, surely both of them had plenty of reasons to want him gone.”
Both men shook their heads. Percival’s voice stayed serious. “No way would Dolan do such a thing. I’ve known him since the day he was born. He didn’t get his brother’s looks or his father’s talents, but he got his mother’s kind heart. You couldn’t ask for a sweeter man. And Daphne?” He shrugged. “Granted, I don’t know her very well, but every interaction I’ve ever had has made me think she truly does have it all. Just as stunningly gorgeous as Declan and as sweet as Dolan. Her only flaw is her husband.”
Maybe she decided to get rid of her only flaw. I didn’t say that. As trustworthy as Gary and Percival were, it seemed they had a blind spot in regards to the Diamond family. Which, considering the connection went back for almost the past seventy years, at least for Percival, I suppose that made sense. “What about other people? Maybe Declan wasn’t evil just to his family.”
Gary pointed at me. “And that’s what I was thinking. You’re onto something there, Fred. I don’t know if Declan managed to screw over anyone as royally as he did his own father, but it’s well known you can’t trust the man in business. He’s cutthroat. Which, honestly, has helped the toyshop. The fellow who runs the pet shop tried to open a toy store when he came into town. Declan brought all the fires of hell down around him.”
Percival sniffed. “Good enough, I say. There’s something not quite right about that guy. He seems better suited to be around animals than children.”
Even though there was only one person they could mean, I had to make sure. I’d planned on avoiding the pet shop until a last resort. “Paulie Mertz? The guy who owns Paws?”
Misreading my tone, Percival lifted a finger in my direction. “Now don’t get defensive. I know he owns two corgis and all you corgi people stick together, but there’s something there, even if I can’t put my finger on it.”
Traitorous Toys (Cozy Corgi Mysteries Book 2) Page 5