If either of those scenarios had occurred, Missy’s reasons could have been merciful. Like her mother, she could have wanted to put an end to Linus’s suffering. Then again, she could have done it for some entirely different reason. Maybe Charlotte was protecting her daughter.
The bottom line was that neither woman had confessed. And I had no other proof.
My silence lasted long enough that Falcone opened his mouth one more time, as if to remind me that he didn’t have all day, or something along those lines.
But before he had a chance to speak, I looked him in the eye and said, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Falcone, but, no, I didn’t.”
Beside me, Nick exhaled, making me realize he’d been holding his breath.
As for Falcone, his response was a smirk. “So, Docta Poppa, this turned out to be one case even you couldn’t figure out.”
“I’m afraid you’re right.”
He sighed. “Too bad. You were kinda my last hope, believe it or not. I’ve been in this business long enough to know that this is one of those difficult cases that has too many suspects and not enough hard evidence. It’s possible that even if I put my best people on it, we’ll never get to the bottom of this.”
“I guess sometimes that’s just the way the cookie crumbles,” I said with a shrug.
He looked at me with his beady little eyes. Somehow, I got the feeling he could see right through me.
But I did a pretty good job of staring right back.
The sound of footsteps finally caused me to turn. Betty and Winston came into the hall, their faces tight.
“Jessica, is everything all right?” Betty asked.
“Everything’s fine,” I assured her. “Lieutenant Falcone just stopped by to make a routine call.”
“Yeah, I was hopin’ our little amateur sleuth here would have cracked the case,” he told them. “But I’m afraid she let us down.”
There was that smirk again, the one that usually made my blood boil. For some reason, it didn’t bother me in the least this time.
“Now, if you’ll all excuse me,” he said disdainfully, “I’m gonna take a look around.”
I waited until he’d walked off before turning to Betty and Winston.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you,” I told them.
Betty grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Jessica, you could never disappoint me.”
“Hear, hear,” Winston seconded. “You know we both think the world of you, Jessica.”
I squeezed Betty’s hand in return. “I think it’s time we packed up our things and went back to our own lives,” I said. “The best thing we can do at this point is to leave this family alone to mourn.”
The other three nodded, all of them muttering their agreement.
Even though I was suddenly overcome with a desire to go home, I lingered in the hallway for a few more seconds. I studied Betty and Winston’s faces, then fixed my eyes on two of the members of my beloved menagerie, Max and Lou. Finally I focused on Nick, trying to freeze this moment in my mind and hold on to it as something to cherish forever.
It really was time for all of us to get back to our own lives. And I was looking forward to sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner in a few days with this family of mine, one that consisted of dear friends and beloved animals and most of all a man I truly loved. After all, I knew that I had plenty to be grateful for.
Crossing the Lion is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A Bantam Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2010 by Cynthia Baxter
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Bantam Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BANTAM BOOKS and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-553-90790-2
www.bantamdell.com
v3.0
Crossing the Lion: A Reigning Cats & Dogs Mystery Page 28