by Clover Tate
“Hmm.” I didn’t know what else or who else was involved in Miles’s restaurant plans, or even if the plans were real enough to involve anyone. Surely he’d talked with someone about them.
“Eat up,” Mom said. “Or you’ll never make it to Astoria in time to visit Avery.”
chapter twenty-two
Maybe it was the fluorescent lights, maybe the puke-green uniform, or maybe the weight of a murder charge, but Avery looked awful.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
A minute passed. I couldn’t think of anything to say that would cheer her up, and apparently she couldn’t, either. I didn’t want to lead with the break-in. Finally, I said, “Mom stopped by.”
That made Avery smile. “She did?”
“She heard about the—the to-do on the news, so she drove out. She was sitting on the front steps the first thing this morning when I pulled up.”
“At home? Where were you?”
Whoops. I hadn’t intended to get into the break-in and warnings so soon. “I’d promised to call her the night before, but I forgot, so she drove over from Portland.”
“And you weren’t home when she arrived?”
“How do you like your lawyer? I saw her on TV.”
“She’s all right, I guess. You’re not answering me, though. I—”
“Have you given thought to hiring a lawyer who specializes in this? Remember, Dad gave me names.”
“I can’t afford one. Besides, the court-appointed attorney is all right. It’s going to be fine. But—”
“Fine isn’t good enough. I—”
“Emmy.” Avery folded her arms in front of her chest. “You’re not telling me something. Talking about my lawyer isn’t going to distract me. Spit it out.”
There was no way around it. I gave Avery a softened version of the break-in, but she took it hard.
“People are hounding you. Because of me,” she said.
“They’re wrong, and they’ll find out. This is just a temporary thing.”
“I feel awful.” She was starting to drift into her depression again.
“It’s not your fault.” I lowered my voice so as not to attract the guard’s attention. “Someone is framing you for Miles’s death. The truth will come out. It has to.” Another moment passed with no response from Avery. I tried again. “What does your attorney say? Does she have any insight?”
“She’s doing the best she can. We’ll see. If the grand jury indicts me, I’ll consider hiring someone else. I’ll worry about it when the time comes.” She pulled in her wandering gaze and focused it on me. “When’s the funeral? The sheriff must have released his body by now.”
“Tomorrow.” I wondered if television reporters would show up to that, too.
“I wish I could be there.”
“I’m glad you won’t be.” I imagined the crowd, the gossip-hungry residents. No telling what they’d do if Avery showed up. As much as I hated to say it, she was better off under police protection.
“It probably wouldn’t be smart, anyway. Not until my name is cleared. His parents must think I’m some kind of monster.”
Every subject seemed rife with emotional minefields. I tried a different one. “I’ve been spending more time with Stella.”
“Oh yes,” she said, her mind clearly still on the funeral.
“She and Miles were close—”
“They used to talk after his shifts,” she said. “He told me about it. Once I stopped by when he was closing up, and he and Stella were sitting out back chatting like long-lost friends. She’s such a lovely woman.”
Stella hadn’t told me not to share her secrets, and I didn’t plan to broadcast them. Still, Avery was my best friend, and I felt like she should know what I knew about Miles. “You asked why Stella was willing to break into Miles’s cabin, and well—”
“Well, what?” Her jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me they were lovers.”
“No. No. She was Miles’s birth mother.”
Avery sat back. Her eyes widened. “No kidding.”
“For real.”
“He was adopted. I knew that.” She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “She used to come into the Brew House and chat from time to time. I always kind of wondered if she was sizing me up. But his mother. Wow.”
“I know.”
“Now that you’ve told me, I can see it. They have similar eyes—wide set. Blue. And come to think of it, they both gesture a lot with their hands.” She met my gaze. “She must be taking this hard.”
“She is, but she’s remarkably philosophical about it, too. People always say to appreciate what you have, but she actually seems to have done that. More than missing Miles, I think she’s grateful for the time she spent with him.”
I’d lost Avery’s attention. Either that, or she needed to think. She worried at a hangnail.
“When we talked about Miles before,” I said, “you sounded so casual about him. I can’t help but think he meant more to you than that.”
She slowly lifted her eyes to mine. “He did.”
“For some reason you don’t like to talk about it,” I coaxed. “I sense it. But I’m not sure why.”
Her voice dropped. “There’s something I need to tell you. I should have said something earlier, but I couldn’t.”
This was it. I knew she’d been hiding something from me. “Yes?” I glanced toward the clock. I didn’t want our time to run out.
“I’ve wanted to tell you, but it’s just been too hard.” She wouldn’t look at me. “I started to say something the last night I was home, but the knife . . .” She let her words fall off.
I leaned closer to the plexiglass barrier. It clouded with my breath. “You can tell me anything, Avery. You know that.”
“Well.” She swallowed. “The sheriff was right. I was down at the dock the night Miles died.” She glanced at me, then quickly down at her hands.
“What? But you said—” All those times I’d defended her, told people she was at home in bed. And now she was saying she wasn’t?
“Nothing. I said nothing. Nothing afterward, anyway.” Avery’s anguish was real. “I let you believe I’d stayed home because it was too painful to tell you the truth. I’m sorry.”
“What about the headache? The tea?”
She bit her lip. “That was for real. I made your mom’s tea, but when I decided to leave, I dumped it down the drain and closed my bedroom door so you’d think I was asleep.”
She’d lied to me. “I’ve been telling everyone you were home—the sheriff, Jack.”
“I know.” Her words were barely audible.
“You must have had a good reason.”
She nodded but didn’t reply. I tried again. “So Miles did have a meeting planned with you.”
“He did. But I didn’t kill him. I swear.”
Again, I waited for more. I knew from experience that Avery had to take things in her own time. But finally I couldn’t wait any longer. “Why were you there?”
“It’s hard to talk about it.”
“You’ve lost a lot in the past few years with your parents’ accident.”
She shook her head. “Let me start at the beginning. I should have told you to begin with.”
I nodded. The minute hand on the wall clock clicked as it advanced. We didn’t have all night, but I’d stay until she was finished explaining, even if they had to drag me out by the armpits.
“When we dated, I really started to care for Miles. He was such an odd guy—but so seductive at the same time. He did his own thing, and I loved that. I could have sworn he cared about me, too. I could have sworn it, but—” She broke with my gaze and looked toward her lap. “He stopped calling. All at once. We talked every day, saw each other all the time, and then—nothing.”
“For no reaso
n?”
“None that I could tell.”
“He didn’t explain? At all?”
“I asked, but he made excuses. I didn’t understand.”
“Nothing happened between you? No arguments or anything like that?”
Her voice shrank to a whisper. “No. I couldn’t figure it out. He seemed troubled the last few times we got together, and then he quit seeing me. That was all.” I could tell by her choked voice that her throat was tightening with emotion.
“Something was off. I know he cared about you. Stella says so, too. Something was wrong.” I pondered this a moment. “But what about the other night at the dock?”
She took a breath. “He called, said he wanted to meet privately. I didn’t know what it meant, and I hoped”—she looked away—“I hoped maybe he’d missed me. But I couldn’t admit it, even to myself.”
“Why the dock?”
“It was his suggestion. He said he had a surprise. It suited me, because I knew you’d be at the house, and I didn’t want to explain everything if nothing came of it. Oh, Emmy.” She closed her eyes a moment.
“I understand.” And yet I didn’t understand. Yes, I felt Avery’s pain, but I still couldn’t believe she didn’t tell me earlier. “Did you see him?”
“No. I’d decided that I wouldn’t go through with it after all. After how he treated me, why should I drop everything and see him? That’s when I told you I had a headache and went up to the house.”
“But you did go.”
She nodded. “Finally, I did. I wanted to see him so badly.” She looked at me to see that I understood. I nodded. My heart ached for her. “I was late. I waited at the top of the dock and even checked the family boat, just in case. It was dark. He wasn’t there.”
Or he was there, but dead. From the tension on her brow and jaw, I knew Avery was thinking the same thing.
“Maybe I could have saved him,” she whispered.
“Or maybe you’d be dead, too,” I said. “Does your lawyer know?”
She nodded. “And Koppen. It’ll come out.”
I wanted to clasp her hands across the table, but the barrier made that impossible. “I’m sorry.”
“Will you go to the funeral?” Avery asked. “Will you go for me?”
* * *
I went straight from visiting Avery to Stella’s. As we’d planned, Stella was dressed all in black, including a black scarf wrapped fashionably around her hair headband-style and dangling down her back. Her somber clothing matched my mood.
We walked toward the center of town, and she filled me in. “Like I told you, Jeanette at the post office says that Sam’s marriage is on the rocks.”
“Alimony and child support would definitely bite into his finances. If the Tidal Basin was already challenged—”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“There’s something I need to tell you, too.” I told Stella about my visit to Avery and that she’d been on the dock the night Miles died. “I was sure she was at home all night.”
“Oh” was all Stella said for a moment. “It doesn’t look good for her.”
“But you believe she’s innocent?”
“Yes. She really cared about Miles, I know. She wouldn’t have killed him,” she said. “He’d wanted to see her. I wonder what about?”
“Avery didn’t know. I think she’d hoped he wanted to get back together.”
“Maybe he did.”
It was nearly midnight, and a cold wind blew off the bay. We kept our voices low so as not to attract the attention of the few Rock Point residents who might still be awake. As we came down the hill, I saw a small light still on in the back of the Morning Glory Inn, Annabelle’s bed-and-breakfast. It had to be a tourist, I told myself. Not Jack.
“Sam should be closing up the Tidal Basin any minute,” Stella said.
“Where does he live?”
“Jeanette said his wife kicked him out, and now he’s getting his mail at the post office. That’s all she knows.”
“I guess we’ll know more soon.” Our plan was to follow him each night after the Tidal Basin closed until he went to the old dock. Ace the plumber might not be willing to tell us what Sam did there at night, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t find it out ourselves. Although I didn’t relish another middle-of-the-night visit.
“Sam usually walks to work and leaves through the rear. If we wait in the alley by the bookstore, we should be able to see him.”
After a few minutes, we arrived at the street behind the Tidal Basin. As Stella suggested, we stood in the dark alley between the bookstore and the ice cream store next door. As was true for most of downtown’s buildings, the top floors held apartments, some of which were occupied year-round. We’d have to stay silent.
Stella was right about the timing. On schedule, Sam left the Tidal Basin, locking the rear door behind him. He zipped his coat to his neck and strode in our direction. We plastered ourselves flat against the wall. I closed my eyes, as if that would make me less visible.
“He’s headed north,” Stella whispered.
We waited a moment, then stepped out of the alley to see Sam’s back receding down the street. A block up, he turned left. We followed.
I’d never followed anyone before. In movies, the detective always had to pretend to read a newspaper or look at a store display if the suspect turned his way. Here, it was midnight, and besides at the tavern, no one was out. Pretending to read a newspaper would get us nowhere.
As I pondered this, my foot hit a crack in the sidewalk, and I stumbled. Stella grabbed my arm and threw us both behind a parked car. Sam’s steps ceased. Keep walking, keep walking, I prayed. At last, his steps up the block continued.
When it seemed safe, we rose from our crouched positions behind the sedan and followed. Sam had turned again. Stella spotted him up a side street, pulling his keys from his pocket. We ducked around the corner and waited until we heard the door open, then close.
“Come on,” I whispered. A light appeared in an upper window of the dingy apartment building. Sam was home. I jotted down the address so we could return later if need be. “Look,” Stella said. As suddenly as it had turned on, the upstairs light shut off. Sam could hardly have had time to get in bed already. “Step back,” she said.
Sure enough, just as we retreated into the shadows, Sam was on the street again, locking his front door. He strode down the hill, whistling “Strangers in the Night.” Unbelievable.
We were in luck, though. He looked to be going straight to the dock. Judging by his pressed pants and button-down shirt, it wasn’t to go crabbing, either, unless he kept another set of clothes on his boat. He’d even slicked back his few strands of hair.
If he took the boat out tonight, there was no way we’d be able to follow him, of course. If he didn’t take out the boat—well, that was even stranger.
He was definitely headed toward the dock. We lingered near the Tidal Basin until he was well down the dock. He stepped onto a beat-up fiberglass cruiser and disappeared below deck. The mercury lamp buzzed in the night. After a few minutes, it became clear that Sam wasn’t going to untie the boat from the pier.
“Should we follow him?” Stella asked.
It was a risk. If he came up when we were on the dock, we’d be spotted immediately. But then again, why were we there if we weren’t going to investigate?
“I’m game if you are,” I replied.
We crept up the dock. The sound of lapping waves and the occasional groan of the dock hid any noise we might have made. Ace’s boat was dark. Hopefully he was home dreaming of pipe fittings while Yin and Yang snoozed below deck.
“Let’s watch from there,” Stella said, pointing toward Ace’s boat. “If we lie on the deck on our bellies, we should be able to see if anyone else comes or goes.”
“We could lie there all night,” I wh
ispered.
“For a little while, at least,” Stella said.
After a nervous glance up toward Sam’s boat, I stepped to Ace’s deck and lowered myself.
Sam was up to something on the boat. Maybe he was selling drugs or dealing in stolen boat parts. Miles might have accidentally caught him when he went to meet Avery and been killed. I glanced at Stella, who somehow managed to look graceful even while lying prone on a dirty boat. We were in the same situation Miles had been. If we discovered Sam’s secret, what might happen to us?
“Thank goodness for my morning yoga practice,” Stella whispered as she shifted on her elbows.
No sooner did we lie down than new steps hit the dock. They became louder as they approached. I raised my head just barely and could make out a woman’s legs—in pants and boots, but definitely a woman’s—and swinging arms, one of which seemed to be holding a wine bottle.
A wine bottle? Sam had a rendezvous. As the figure passed, I raised my head higher. My jaw dropped.
“What?” Stella said, noticing my shock.
“It’s Deputy Goff,” I said. She leapt onto Sam’s boat as if she’d been there a dozen times already and let herself below deck. I sat full up. “It’s Deputy Goff, and she’s visiting Sam. And she brought a bottle of wine.”
“No joke.” Stella looked just as surprised as I was. “Who’d have thought?” She swallowed a chuckle.
“It looks like she even put on lipstick.”
“We should wait a few minutes to make sure they’re, uh, you know.”
Sam wouldn’t have killed Miles because he’d stumbled over Sam’s love nest. As for Deputy Goff—nah. I couldn’t see that, either.
“Now we know why the sheriff is so sure of Sam’s alibi,” I said. Then I remembered pressuring the sheriff to question Sam, the deputy’s insistence that he was innocent, and her “break” from the case. No wonder Goff hated me. I’d forced her to reveal her affair. With a divorce in the works, likely neither of them wanted to go public just yet.
Stella sat up, too. “Listen. Is that Sam’s voice?”
A voice drifted across the dock. “Well, if it isn’t my sweet cup of Goffee,” it said.