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Chapter 23

The police arrived what seemed like moments later. Daniel Swift was conscious by then. I think if he’d tried to move, Rose would have brained him again. One paramedic tended to the bump on the back of his head while another checked my shoulder.

Rose sat at my grandmother’s dining room table and gave her statement to Michelle. When she’d said that she and Charlotte had had plans, what she hadn’t said was that their plans were to follow Daniel Swift. They’d trailed him to a brick building down the street. Formerly factory housing for the chocolate factory workers, it now held several professional offices. Charlotte had stayed with the car in the lot, and Rose had gone inside to see where Swift had been going.

“That was dangerous,” Michelle said sternly.

Rose shook her head. “Nobody notices an old woman. We’re about as close to invisible as it gets.”

In a cosmic stroke of good luck or good timing, Rose had seen Swift pull on a gray fedora, turn up the collar of his coat and start down the street. When she realized he was heading to my house, she’d tried to call me and discovered she’d left her phone in Charlotte’s car.

Her expression grew serious. “I’m sorry, my dear,” she said. “I should have paid more attention.” She reached across the table for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “If anything had happened to you . . .”

“Nothing happened to me,” I said. “Because of you. Where did you learn to swing a shovel like that?”

“I played baseball when I was a girl. Baseball, not softball,” she stressed. She smiled and patted her hair. Not a single one was out of place after all her exertion. “If Daniel Swift’s head had been a baseball, that would have been a home run.”

Behind her I saw Charlotte shake her head.

We ended up downstairs in my apartment. When I came back from changing into dry clothes, Mr. P. had shown up and was in the kitchen making coffee and tea. Rose and Charlotte were at the table along with Jess. Charlotte had called her. Elvis was on Jess’s lap.

“Where do you keep your cookies?” Mr. P. asked.

“I don’t exactly have any cookies,” I said a little sheepishly.

“Crackers?” he asked hopefully. “Or muffins?”

I felt my cheeks getting red.

“Give it up, Mr. P.,” Jess said from her seat at the table. “The only edible things you’re going to find in that kitchen are sardines and cat kibble, and I don’t fancy having either one of them with my coffee.”

“Merow!” Elvis exclaimed.

“No one’s going to eat your sardines,” I said.

He looked pointedly around the room just to make sure we all knew they were paws off.

“Liz is on the way,” Charlotte said. “She’s stopping at McNamara’s.”

Rose got up, came around the table and put her arms around me. “As soon as that bandage is off your hand”—she gestured to the gauze the paramedic had put on the scrape on the side of my left hand—“we’ll start your cooking lessons again.”

“Have I told you I love you?” I asked.

She stood on tiptoes and kissed my cheek. “Only about half a dozen times in the last hour.”

“Is that all?” I said.

She laughed. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

I peeked into the kitchen to see how Mr. P. was doing. He seemed to be figuring things out. Charlotte came up behind me and put an arm around my shoulders.

“Is it crazy that I feel a little sorry for Daniel Swift?” I said.

“No,” she said. “It just shows that you have a good heart.”

“All he had was his grandson,” I said. “I have all of you.” I suddenly had a lump in my throat again. I looked over at the table, where Rose was telling Jess how she’d gotten the shovel and crept up the stairs.

“We’re very glad we have you,” Charlotte said.

There was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it, my dear,” Mr. P. said.

It was Nick. He was carrying a brown paper shopping bag.

“Come join the party,” Jess said, waving at him from the table.

“I just wanted to see for myself that Sarah is okay,” Nick said.

“I’m fine,” I said, hobbling over to the door.

He frowned when he noticed how gingerly I was moving my shoulder.

“It’s just a little road rash,” I said.

“I thought you were out of the detective business,” he said, lowering his voice.

I shrugged. “So did I.”

Nick handed me the shopping bag. “This is for you. Open it later.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s no big deal. Just . . . just look at it later.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Daniel Swift killed Lily. And tried to kill you.”

“He thought she knew what happened to his grandson.”

“Do you think she did?”

I rubbed my shoulder. It still ached where Swift had wrenched it up behind my back. “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess we’ll never know now.”

Nick smiled. “Did Rose really clobber Swift with a snow shovel?”

“She has a swing like Ted Williams.”

Charlotte came over to us. “Come sit down, Sarah,” she said. “You were supposed to stay off that ankle.”

“Would you get Nick a cup of coffee?” I said. I looked at him. “Do you have time for one?”

“I’d love one.”

Mr. P. had heard the conversation. “I’ll get it,” he said. “Nicolas, how do you take it?”

Jess got to her feet. “Sit,” she said, putting both hands on my shoulder and steering me to her chair.

I sat, gratefully, because my ankle did hurt. I set the shopping bag at my feet. Jess pulled over the footstool. “Put your foot on that,” she said. “I’ll get you a cup of coffee. And I’m spending the night, by the way. And Rose is cooking breakfast in the morning, because I’m not eating sardines.”

There was a meow at her feet. She bent down and lifted Elvis into her arms. “You are my hero, Mr. King of Rock and Roll,” she said. She scratched under his chin and he started to purr. She kissed the top of his head and set him on the footstool next to my foot. “Watch her,” she said, pointing at me.

Elvis immediately turned and stared at me.

Jess laughed and went into the kitchen to get my coffee. There was another knock at the door.

“I’ll get that,” Charlotte said before I could move.

It was Liz with Avery and Mac in tow and probably half the food Glenn McNamara had had.

“Are you all right, child?” Liz said. I could see the concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine, thanks to Rose,” I said. Rose had gotten to her feet and was looking in the two large paper shopping bags Mac was carrying.

“You really clocked the old dude with a shovel?” Avery asked.

“I wouldn’t quite put it that way, dear,” Rose said, “but essentially, yes.”

“Hot damn!” Avery said, high-fiving Rose.

Liz shot her a look. “Sorry, Nonna,” she said, ducking her head.

“Take those bags from Mac and put them in the kitchen, please,” Liz said, making a shooing motion with one hand.

Mac handed her the bags and then put an arm around Rose’s shoulders. “I’m so proud of you,” he said.

Her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you,” she said.

Liz looked at Mac. “Have a seat,” she said. “Talk to Sarah. I’ll get you a cup of coffee as soon as I find out if there is any.”

“There is,” I said. “Mr. P. made it.”

Mac pulled off his gloves and dropped into the chair opposite me. Everyone else was crammed into my tiny kitchen.

“Are you really all right?” he asked.

“I am,” I said. I held up my hand. “The bandage is twice the size of the scrape, and I only twisted my ankle.”

“I’m glad,” he said. He hesitated. “If you need anything, later on or tonight, call me? Please?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling . . . awkward.

We all managed to squeeze around the table with our coffee and tea. Liz had brought rolls and Glenn’s chicken corn chowder and probably every cookie in the place. Charlotte and Mr. P. served us all while Rose told her story again, with Elvis adding commentary from his perch on the footstool. Nick managed to eat a bowl of chowder and two peanut-butter cookies before his phone rang.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said. He came around the table, leaned down and kissed Rose on the cheek. “Promise me from now on you’ll let someone else do the shoveling,” he said.

She laughed, reached up and patted his cheek.

“If you or Jess need anything, I’m as close as the phone,” Nick said to me. He reached out with one hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

The gesture felt oddly intimate. I had to swallow before I could speak. “Thanks,” I said.

Charlotte walked Nick to the door. When she opened it, Caroline Carter was standing there.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked uncertainly.

“Of course not,” Charlotte said.

“I’m on my way out,” Nick said. “I’ll call you later,” he said to his mother.

I struggled to my feet. “Caroline, come in, please,” I said.

“Detective Andrews called me,” she said, her fingers playing with the fringe of the long, rust-colored scarf she was wearing. “I just wanted to see if you and Rose were all right.”

“We’re fine,” I said. “Please sit down.”

She took Nick’s empty chair. Mr. P. quietly got up and headed for the kitchen. In a moment he was back with a cup of tea for Caroline. I mouthed a “Thank you” at him.

“You’re hurt,” Caroline said to me.

“A twisted ankle and some skin off the back of my hand,” I said. “It’s nothing.”

“Did you really go after Daniel with a shovel?” she said to Rose.

Rose nodded.

Caroline smiled. “Good for you.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe he killed Lily.”

“I’m not making excuses for the man,” I said carefully. “But I think his grandson’s disappearance broke something in him. He thought Lily knew what happened to Caleb, and he got fixated on that.”

Caroline pressed her lips together and looked at the ceiling for a moment. I saw her swallow a couple of times, and it was clear she was fighting back tears. And in the split second before she spoke, all the pieces fell into place for me.

“She did know what happened to Caleb,” Caroline said. “I killed him.”