Paws Аnd Effect

4

Marcus left to meet Hope, and I drove home. Before I got into the truck I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. “I’m so, so sorry about Dani,” I said. “If you need me call or just come by. It doesn’t matter how late it is.”

He nodded. “Drive carefully.”

I did drive home just a little more attentively, thinking how fragile life can be. I barely knew Dani but I had liked what I did know. As I headed around the house to the back door I stopped to look up at the stars overhead and hoped that wherever Dani was now she was at peace.

Marcus showed up just after six a.m. I’d had a restless night. I was leaning against the counter waiting for the coffee when he tapped on the back door. He had dark circles like sooty smudges under his eyes and he needed a shave. The half smile he gave me didn’t make it anywhere near his blue eyes. He propped an elbow on the table and leaned his head on his hand. I got a cup of coffee and set it next to him.

“Thanks,” he said.

I sat next to him at the table. “Could I get you some breakfast?”

He put a hand over mine. “Just sit with me for a bit.”

We sat like that for maybe a couple of minutes and then Marcus said, “I have to tell John.” He stared down at the table. “And I have to find Travis.”

“I’m coming with you,” I said. “Maybe John will know where he is.”

“You don’t have to come,” Marcus said.

“I’m coming,” I repeated. He gave my hand a squeeze.

I scrambled eggs with the last sausage patty I’d gotten from Burtis Chapman and served them with toasted English muffins and more coffee. Marcus ate every bite on his plate but I think I could have cooked the eggs shells and toasted the bag the muffins had been in and he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Hope’s taking the lead on this one,” he said, pushing his plate back and folding his hands around his cup. “I just thought it would be easier for everyone if I was the one who broke the news to John and Travis.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“No, you’re not.” I put my arms around him. “I liked Dani. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her better. Would you, maybe later, tell me more about her?”

He nodded. “I’d like that. I think maybe the two of you would have been friends.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance,” I said, and even though I’d barely known Dani I had to swallow down a sudden lump in my throat.

I went upstairs to finish getting ready for work, leaving Marcus with Hercules, who had been sitting next to his chair in silent sympathy from the moment he’d arrived. When I came back down Marcus was talking to the cat in a low voice, not the first time I’d seen that kind of thing happen.

“John is staying out at the Bluebird Motel,” I said.

Marcus slipped something to Hercules, trying to be surreptitious about it. I let it pass. I could get a hint of the unmistakable aroma of stinky crackers and I knew one or two wouldn’t hurt the little tuxedo cat.

“I texted Maggie,” I continued. “She was planning on taking John out to Wisteria Hill. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her why I was asking.”

Marcus pulled a hand over the back of his neck. “Thanks. Hope is looking for Travis.” He got to his feet.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“No,” he said. I linked my fingers though his and we left anyway.

A red SUV was parked in front of John’s room at the Bluebird Motel. There was a rental company sticker in the top right corner of the windshield. The tailgate was open, which told me that John was up, getting ready to start his day. Marcus knocked on the door and then lifted my hand and kissed it before letting it go.

“I should be out of here in about ten minutes and you can—” John opened the door as he stuffed papers into his messenger bag. He looked up, surprised to see Marcus and me instead of the maid he’d probably been expecting. “Hi,” he said. He looked at us and his expression grew serious. “What did Travis do?” he asked. “Is he all right? I swear I’m going to kick him when I see him. He didn’t come back last night and I had to rent a car this morning so I can get everything done. Lucky for me I found a place that opened at seven thirty.”

I felt my chest tighten as though a giant hand were squeezing me. This was part of Marcus’s job and I wondered how he did it over and over again.

“Marcus, is Travis all right?” John asked a lot more insistently.

“As far as we know,” Marcus said. He was in police officer mode. His voice was strong and steady.

“What do you mean as far as you know?”

Marcus ignored the question. “John, it’s Dani.”

John grinned. “Let me guess. She got nabbed for speeding again.” He looked at me. “Dani has a lead foot.”

“Could we sit down for a minute?” Marcus asked.

“Sure.” John took a couple of steps back. “C’mon in.”

I followed Marcus into the room. It looked just like any other motel room I’d ever been in: bed, nightstand, dresser, flat-screen TV above the desk. There was a large duffel bag on the end of the bed.

John gave Marcus a puzzled smile. “So what’s up?”

“Dani was out looking at the land around Long Lake,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, I know. I talked to her yesterday afternoon. She said she might stay in town last night. She didn’t want to run into Travis out here.”

“John, she had an accident,” Marcus said. I could see the tension in his shoulders and the stiff way he held his body.

John’s gaze darted between the two of us. I stuffed my hands in my pockets because they suddenly felt huge and clumsy. “What kind of an accident?” he asked slowly.

“She fell. There was an embankment not that far from the lake. It looks like she was taking core samples.”

John swore. “Is she in a hospital here or back in Minneapolis?”

For a moment Marcus didn’t say anything, and when he did it was just a single word: “Johnnie.”

John closed his eyes. I could see from the set of his jaw that his teeth were tightly clenched together. He let out a shuddering breath. “When?”

“Last night,” Marcus said. His right hand moved sideways and I caught it, giving it what I hoped was a comforting squeeze before letting go again.

John opened his eyes again. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said. “Not to Dani.” He looked at me. “You didn’t know her, Kathleen, and I know this is the kind of thing people always say when someone dies, but she was special.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to know her,” I said, feeling more than a little helpless in the face of both his and Marcus’s grief. “I liked what I did know. I’m so sorry.”

He gave me what passed for a smile for him right now. “Thank you.” Then he turned to Marcus. “We have to find Travis. He can’t hear about this from a news report or from some stranger.”

“I’m working on that,” Marcus said. “Do you know where he is?”

John shook his head. “Like I said, he didn’t come back here last night. I got the maid to check his room. The bed hadn’t been slept in. I just assumed he’d stayed in town . . . like I thought Dani did.”

Marcus’s phone buzzed then. He pulled it out. “It’s Hope,” he said. “She might have something.” He stepped just outside the door.

“Hope is Marcus’s partner,” I explained to John. “She’ll be in charge of the investigation. Don’t worry. She’ll find Travis.”

John put a hand over his mouth for a moment. “I know what a jerk he was yesterday but he shouldn’t have to hear this from a police officer, a stranger.”

I shook my head. “He won’t.”

“I should go with him.” He meant go with Marcus to give Travis the news, I realized.

“I think you probably can.” I hesitated, and then laid my hand on his arm for a moment, hoping there would be some comfort in the gesture.

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” John said, glancing toward the door. “We were supposed to be friends again. Why don’t things work out the way they’re supposed to?”

He was talking to himself, not me, which was good, because I didn’t have any answers.

Marcus came back in with the news that Travis was in Red Wing.

“I’m going with you,” John said. He looked at me. “Kathleen, could you . . . explain to Maggie. Please tell her I’m sorry. And I was going to call Rebecca.” He made a helpless gesture with one hand.

“I’ll take care of all of that,” I said. “Don’t even think about it.”

Marcus put a hand on my shoulder and leaned down to kiss me. “I’ll call you or I’ll come in to the library when we get back. I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

I nodded. “I wish this hadn’t happened.”

“Me too,” he said.

I’d driven my truck up to the Bluebird Motel. Marcus and John got into his SUV and turned in the direction of Red Wing and I headed back to town. I had my things so I just went to the library even though it was early. I parked at the far end of the lot, the way I usually did, and as I walked across the pavement to the front entrance I couldn’t help thinking that it felt wrong somehow that it was such a beautiful day given what had happened to Dani. Once I got inside I put on a pot of coffee and while I waited for it I called Maggie. This wasn’t something I could do in a text.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Is John okay? And Marcus?”

I leaned against the counter. “They’re all right. Sad. Shocked.”

“What can I do?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. I have to call Rebecca, but other than that, I don’t think there is anything we can do. She was out there by herself, so there’ll be an investigation. Hope’s in charge given that Marcus knew Dani.”

“What if Brady and I went out to Wisteria Hill? I could try to find that plant again. Brady knows that whole area, too.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said. I had no idea what effect Dani’s death would have on the work of the coalition of environmental groups. I wasn’t sure how John and Travis would feel about staying in the area and continuing their work without her. I knew they felt strongly about stopping the development.

Maggie promised to take pictures of anything that seemed promising and we said good-bye. I knew she was right about Brady. He and his brothers had grown up in the woods in and around Wisteria Hill. His father, Burtis Chapman, had worked for Idris Blackthorne, Ruby’s grandfather and the one-time area bootlegger. A lot of things had happened at the old man’s cabin on his stretch of land adjacent to Wisteria Hill, but the trees told no tales.

I called Rebecca and explained what had happened to her as well. She expressed her sympathy and I promised to be in touch if she could help in any way. “John was out here last night after supper,” she said. “I’d found two more of my mother’s books. He spoke about his friend. It sounded like she was a nice person.”

“I think she was,” I said.

* * *

Marcus came into the library just after eleven. He’d been home to shower and change. He was wearing a white shirt with dark trousers, he’d shaved, and the ends of his hair were still damp.

“C’mon up to my office,” I said. Susan was at the circulation desk. “I need a few minutes,” I said to her.

“Take your time,” she said. As usual, there had been a reporter from the Mayville Heights Chronicle out at the scene of Dani’s accident. The story was already online at the paper’s website.

Once we were in my office Marcus hugged me. “How are you?” I asked, leaning back to study him. He still looked tired but he was in police officer mode and his emotions were firmly in check.

“We found Travis,” he said.

I waited, holding both of his hands in mine. There wasn’t anything I could say to erase the pain in his eyes. I would have given anything to be able to do that.

It was then that I noticed the beginning of a bruise on the left side of his jawline. I let go of his hand and touched it gently with two fingers.

He winced.

“He hit you,” I said softly.

Marcus nodded. “He still has a pretty good right cross.”

“You let him?” Marcus was strong, with fast reflexes. He’d clearly taken the punch instead of avoiding it.

He looked away for a moment and a flush of color came into his cheeks. “I don’t expect you to understand, Kathleen,” he began, “but he needed to.”

“I do understand,” I said. “Do you want some ice?”

“No, I’m okay.” He worked his jaw from side to side. “It looks worse than it feels.” He let out a slow breath. “He cried, Kathleen. He swung at me and then he started to cry.”

I felt the prickle of tears myself but I swallowed them away because this wasn’t about me. “What do you need?” I asked.

He let go of my hand so he could rake his own through his hair. “They’re both coming over to the house tonight. We, uh, we want to do something—I don’t know, maybe some kind of memorial service for the people she worked with and her friends. I thought maybe we could plan something.”

“That’s a nice idea,” I said. “What about Dani’s family?”

“There’s just an older brother and her grandmother. John is going to try to contact the brother.”

“So how can I help?”

“Will you come tonight?” he said. “I know you didn’t really know Dani but—”

I cut him off before he could finish the sentence. “I would be honored.”

He smiled and I saw some of the stress ease in his face. “I have to get to the station,” he said. “Hope is waiting to find out when we can expect the medical examiner to be finished.”

“All right,” I said. “I’ll see you tonight. If you need me before then—”

“I’ll call, I promise.”

I laid my hand gently against his cheek. “I love you,” I said.

He swallowed hard, pushing down some emotion. “I love you, too,” he said.

I walked Marcus downstairs and after he left Susan came around the desk to me. “I heard about Marcus’s friend,” she said, touching my arm. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything you need to do we can hold down the fort here. I can call Mia in.”

News spread quickly in Mayville Heights, but I could see the genuine concern in her eyes and once again I realized how lucky I was to be in the small town with people who genuinely cared about me. As much as I sometimes missed my family back in Boston, Mayville Heights was my home now.

I had to clear my throat before I could answer her. “Thank you, Susan,” I said. “There isn’t anything I can do right now, but I might take you up on your offer later.”

She nodded and then wrapped me in a quick and unexpected hug before going back to the desk. I went upstairs to my office and once the door was closed didn’t even try to stop the tears from sliding down my face.

I drove out to Marcus’s house about four thirty with a crock of soup and two dozen of Rebecca’s whole-wheat donuts. Hercules had had another gazebo “meeting” with Everett, and Rebecca had walked him home. “Please tell Marcus we’re thinking about him,” she’d said. “Everett asked me to pass on his sympathies and to tell you that if Marcus or his friends need anything please let him know.”

“Thank you,” I said, wrapping her in a hug and thinking how such a simple gesture made me feel a little better, giving or receiving. “I think they just need some time.”

Rebecca nodded. “It isn’t just that they all lost a friend—which is devastating enough—they’ve also lost another connection to a time in their lives when everything seemed possible.”

“How did you get so smart?” I asked her.

Rebecca laughed. “I’ve been around long enough to pick up a thing or two—plus I drink a glass of warm water with lemon every morning.”

“I’ll keep both of those in mind,” I said.

Micah was sitting on the swing on Marcus’s back deck when I came around the side of his small house. She jumped down and meowed as though she’d been waiting for me, all her attention fixed on the bag of donuts. Owen had been the same way, clearly disgruntled because I wasn’t leaving any of them behind for him. To express his displeasure he’d disappeared from the kitchen—literally—and I’d been extra careful when I got in the truck in case he decided on another stealth ride.

“Donuts are not for cats,” I said firmly. Micah wrinkled her whiskers at me. She was much politer about expressing her unhappiness with me than Owen was. “I did bring you something, though,” I said, patting the pocket of my sweater.

She made a soft sound of happiness and rubbed her face against my leg. The back door opened then.

“Hi,” Marcus said. “I thought I heard someone out here.” He’d changed into a gray sweatshirt and jeans.

“Hi,” I said. “Micah and I were just talking about donuts.”

“Cats aren’t supposed to eat donuts,” he said.

“And you’ve never broken that rule with my cats,” I said. I handed him the canvas bag I was holding. “These are from Rebecca. And Everett offered his help if there’s anything you or John and Travis need.”

“That’s really nice of them,” he said as Micah and I followed him inside. “I don’t think there’s anything that needs to be done. Once the medical examiner releases her . . . body, the family is planning a service. And I think there’s also going to be another one in Chicago for the people she worked with.” He put the donuts on the counter and took the soup crock from me. “John talked to Dani’s brother. He’ll get in touch when their plans are finalized.”

“That’s good,” I said.

Marcus looked around the kitchen. “I feel I should be doing something.”

“Like what?” I asked. I took off my sweater and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

“That’s the thing,” he said, swiping a hand over his neck. “I don’t know. Hope is taking the lead on this.”

“So let her,” I said, reaching for his hand and pulling him toward me. “Let the world turn without you for a little while.”

Marcus and I had half the soup for supper and I put the rest in his refrigerator. John and Travis showed up about seven o’clock.

“Hey, Kathleen,” John said. He’d changed into a white shirt with his jeans. He looked tired but his emotions seemed to be under control. I gave him a quick hug and he managed a small smile.

Travis, on the other hand, looked broken. There was dark stubble on his cheeks and his face was drawn as though he’d lost weight in the brief amount of time since I’d last seen him.

“Travis, I’m so sorry,” I said.

His mouth moved but at first no words came out. Then he said, “Kathleen, I owe you an apology. The last time I saw you I . . . I was an asshole.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I said. His behavior at the restaurant didn’t seem like such a big deal now.

His eyes met mine. They were sad behind his glasses, and there were lines on his face I hadn’t noticed yesterday. “I do,” he said. “I can’t apologize to Dani. Please let me say the words to you.”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. My throat was tight.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “If I could do it again . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I’d behave . . . differently. Better.”

I managed to find my voice. “Thank you,” I said.

Marcus made coffee and I put half of Rebecca’s donuts out on a plate. The conversation was strained and awkward at first. I filled John in on what Maggie and Brady had found, which was nothing so far.

“Dominic called me back,” John said. “That’s Dani’s brother,” he added as an aside to me. “The service will probably be the end of next week. It will be by invitation only. I told him all three of us wanted to come.” He let out a breath. “He said he’d put us on the list.”

We sat in silence for a moment. Then Travis spoke. “She’d hate it. It’ll be all pomp and circumstance and nothing that she wants.”

Marcus nodded.

John looked down at the table. “She wanted ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca,’ remember?”

“It’s her favorite song,” Travis said. He managed what I was guessing passed for a smile for him at the moment. “That night she got us drunk she said that’s what she wanted played at her funeral and she wanted us to come and dance with our walkers.” He put both hands flat on the table and stared down at them.

They needed to talk about her. They needed to remember and grieve and do it together. I needed to keep the conversation going.

“She got you drunk?” I asked.

“Yeah,” John said. “She got us drunk.” He shifted in his chair to look at me. “She could drink a lumberjack under the table.”

“And not be hungover the next day,” Marcus added. “I don’t know how she did it.”

“So why exactly did she get you drunk?” I said.

“It was a bet.” John looked in his mug and Marcus immediately got to his feet and reached for the coffeepot. “Dani bet all three of us that she could match us beer for beer and still walk a straight line.”

“She did, too,” Travis said, joining the conversation for the first time. “She has some kind of freaky metabolism. Alcohol never affects her the same way it does most people. None of us could walk that line.” He looked up at Marcus, who was topping up my cup. “He kept insisting the line was moving, so he sat on it.”

“It felt like it was moving,” Marcus said, making a face.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Were you on some road?”

Travis shook his head. “We were at the drive-in. It was this retro place. It’s not open anymore.” He gestured at the others. “The three of us worked there one summer. Bowling shirts and slicked-back hair.”

“Are there pictures?” I asked, looking directly at Marcus.

“No,” he said.

“Yes,” John said.

Marcus shot John a look. “No,” he repeated.

“Do you still have your key chain?” John asked. He patted his pocket. “Or am I the only one?”

Travis pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and held up the fob. It was a stylized black crescent moon with a dotted white line down the center and a gold star at the top point of the crescent.

Marcus had the same thing on his spare set of keys. “I didn’t know that meant something,” I said.

“So you still have it?” John said.

Marcus nodded. “Uh-huh. On my extra keys in the bedroom. I think I have the shirt somewhere as well.” He gestured at the key chain Travis was still holding. “Stuckey’s Drive-In. Don’t drive by.”

“Drive-in,” all three of them said.

They all smiled at the memory.

“Blast from the Past,” John said. “Remember that?”

Marcus sat down at the table again. “The night before the drive-in closed for the season they did this thing they called Blast from the Past. You could get in for half price if you came in costume, and they showed American Graffiti and Grease.”

John nodded. “Dani came in a poodle skirt and a pair of those black cat’s-eye glasses with the rhinestone things on the ends.” He smiled. “This guy in a leather jacket and a beer belly hanging out kept hitting on her.”

“He asked her, ‘Where have you been all my life, Sweetlips?’ She patted his cheek and said, ‘Washing bodies in the cadaver lab.’”

John leaned back in his chair and laughed at the memory. “I’m surprised the guy didn’t get whiplash backing away from her.”

We finished our coffee and moved into the living room. The three of them spent the next hour and a half telling me stories about Dani and their college days and I found myself wishing I’d had the chance to get to know her better. When John and Travis left, Travis extended his hand and Marcus shook it. I hoped that the rapprochement between them would continue.

* * *

The investigation into Dani’s accident continued. Marcus took a day off and went to Chicago for the memorial service held by her friends. John and Travis came back to Mayville Heights with him. They had decided to continue their work against the development.

“It was important to Dani,” John said, standing in the middle of the library, still dressed in the suit he’d worn to the service. “There isn’t anything else we can do so we’ll do this.”

* * *

For the next week it seemed as though nothing was happening. John alternated spending time at the library with wandering around out at Wisteria Hill. Travis was back and forth between Red Wing and Mayville Heights.

Marcus was frustrated by the slow pace of Hope’s investigation. “I don’t understand why she’s shutting me out,” he said as we cleared the table after supper Wednesday night.

We’d had spaghetti and meatballs. Marcus had snuck a meatball to each cat and I’d pretended not to notice.

“The only thing she said is there’s some kind of backup at the medical examiner’s office.”

“Maybe that’s all it is,” I said. “Or maybe she’s not telling you anything because Dani was your friend and you really shouldn’t be involved in the investigation.”

“That doesn’t mean Hope wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.” He shook his head. “I know her. The last couple of days she’s been avoiding me.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to spare you from some of the details of how Dani died.”

“I don’t want her to keep that kind of thing from me,” he said. I recognized the stubborn set of his jaw.

“Hope cares about you,” I said.

He dropped a glass in the soapy water I’d filled the sink with.

“I know that,” he said. “I do, but I don’t like being shut out. Why can’t she just tell me what she knows so far?”

“Whatever it is, she has her reasons, I’m sure.”

He studied me for a few silent seconds. “This is what it’s like for other people, isn’t it?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

“About three years ago a young man was killed on the train tracks down by the old warehouses. There isn’t any traffic on them now, but there was back then. It turned out he’d been drinking and lost his balance and fell. His mother called me every day of the investigation. Every single day at quarter after nine. And every time I’d tell her that as soon as I had something to share I’d call her.” He looked up at the ceiling for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “And the next morning at nine fifteen my phone would ring. I didn’t get it, but I do now.”

I gave him a hug. “You’ll get your answers. And you and John and Travis will be able to say a proper good-bye to Dani.”

* * *

Thursday turned out to be busier than usual at the library, so I was already running a little late when I pulled into the driveway at home. I discovered Hercules waiting for me on the back steps. He had a black feather in his mouth, the fur on his head was standing on end and his right ear was turned half inside out.

“Did you and that grackle get into it again?” I asked as he followed me into the house.

He spit the feather on the mat where I kept my shoes and gave me what could only be described as a self-satisfied look.

“Let me check the top of your head,” I said. I didn’t think he was wounded. The cat and the bird had some kind of arch-nemesis thing going. It was more WWA wrestling fighting than the real thing.

Hercules shook his head. Translation: “I’m fine.” He made a move to go up another step and I leaned down, putting one hand on his back so I could use the other to part the fur on the top of his head and check for any bird-inflicted injuries and then fix his ear. He grumbled while I looked but didn’t try to squirm away. “You’re fine,” I said. He shot me a look that seemed to suggest he was insulted I had ever suspected otherwise.

Hercules was more than capable of taking down the big black grackle mid-flight and the bird could have easily injured the cat with its long beak. They both seemed to enjoy the battle. If someone won, the whole thing would be over and it didn’t seem as though either one of them wanted that.

In the kitchen I discovered that Owen had decapitated yet another catnip chicken. There were bits of catnip all over and a limp yellow chicken head in the middle of the floor.

Hercules immediately sneezed and jumped in the air at the sound. He always managed to scare himself when he sneezed, as if he couldn’t seem to grasp the small explosion was coming from him.

“Owen!” I yelled. When he didn’t appear—literally or figuratively—I called his name again. “I’m putting Fred’s head in the garbage if you don’t get in here right now.”

I heard a meow from the living room and after a moment Owen appeared in the doorway. He made his way across the kitchen and took the chicken head from my hand.

Rebecca and Maggie kept the cat in a steady supply of the little yellow catnip toys known as Fred the Funky Chicken. Owen in turn destroyed them almost, it sometimes seemed, on some kind of schedule of his own.

“Why do you do this?” I asked pointing at the bits of dried catnip all over the kitchen floor. He looked up at me, blinked twice and headed for the basement, the yellow chicken head firmly in his teeth. I couldn’t exactly make him go get the vacuum and clean things up. Behind me Hercules sneezed again. He had never been enthralled by catnip the way his brother was.

By the time I cleaned the kitchen floor, ate supper and changed, I was running very late for tai chi class, so Maggie was announcing “Circle,” as I walked into the studio. She worked us hard and it wasn’t until class was finished that we got a chance to talk. “Nice job, everyone. See you on Tuesday,” she called as she walked over to me.

I blotted sweat from my neck with the edge of my T-shirt, which was damp with perspiration in places.

“Your Push Hands are looking better,” she said. “Remember to think about your weight and where your center is.”

I nodded. “Aren’t you going to tell me to bend my knees?” It was a running joke in the class that Maggie told me to bend my knees at least once per session.

“You’re getting better at that,” she said with a smile.

I bumped her with my shoulder. “See?” I said. “I do listen to you.”

“I told Owen to remind you when you practice.”

I started to laugh.

Mags frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“I was working on the form a few days ago and Owen kept making these little murping noises the entire time.”

“Did any of those noises sound like ‘Bend your knees’?” Maggie asked.

“No,” I said, stretching one arm over my head. “They sounded more like ‘Where’s my breakfast?’”

We walked over to the table where Maggie kept supplies for tea. I gestured at the wall behind the table. “I like the color.” Oren had painted the walls in the studio a very pale yellow.

Maggie smiled. “Me too. I probably looked at two dozen colors but I kept coming back to this one. She leaned over to plug in the kettle then reached for a box of chamomile tea bags. “Was John in the library today?” she asked.

I shook my head. “He went back to Red Wing with Travis to check on something.” I studied her face. “Did you find the plant?”

She nodded. “I think so. Brady and I went out to Roma’s yesterday after supper. I took some photos to show John but I’m pretty sure it is Leedy’s roseroot.”

“And you found the plants on Roma’s land, didn’t you?” She would have been more excited if they had been growing anywhere else.

Maggie dropped the tea bag in a cup and reached for the kettle. “Yes. Brady said we were definitely on Roma’s land.”

I let out a sigh. So there wasn’t going to be any way to stop the development after all. Then I noticed that Maggie was humming to herself as she finished making her tea.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “You don’t seem that upset. What’s going on?”

“When we went out to Wisteria Hill we walked around that little piece of land that Ruby owns. I asked her first and she said it was okay.”

Considering that Ruby stood to benefit from the development I thought it was generous of her to tell Maggie she could look around her property.

“Did you know there’s a cave just beyond that old cabin that Ruby’s grandfather owned?”

Goose bumps puckered my skin. I didn’t like small tight spaces. I’d been that way since I was a kid. Owen and I had been trapped in the dark, damp basement of a camp in the woods not that different from the old building on the Blackthorne property a couple of winters ago. The experience hadn’t made my claustrophobia any better.

“I was going to say I didn’t know that, but I think maybe Marcus told me about it.” He’d spent a lot of time checking out those woods after a body had turned up at Wisteria Hill a year and a half ago when an embankment collapsed after a week of seemingly endless rain.

“We were dive-bombed by a bat,” Maggie said with a shudder. She felt the same way about small, furry animals as I did about small dark spaces.

“Oh, Mags, I’m sorry,” I said. “You’re all right?”

“I’m fine.” She took another sip from her tea. “Brady said the bat was more afraid of me than I was of it but I don’t think that’s true. The bat did not hurl itself at Brady and pull his jacket over its head.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I said, reaching out to give her arm a squeeze.

“Yes, I’m okay,” she said, “because I think the bat may help us stop the development.”

“How?” I asked just as Rebecca came across the floor to join us.

She looked at Maggie, curiosity in her blue eyes. “Did you have any luck last night?” she asked.

“I was just telling Kathleen,” Maggie said, leaning over to plug the kettle in again. She related her story about being bat-bombed while Rebecca looked at the selection of teas and made her choice.

“Bats have gotten a bad reputation thanks to all those myths about vampires,” Rebecca said. “Did you know that just one little brown bat can eat up to a thousand mosquitoes an hour? They provide pest control without all those nasty chemicals. And during World War Two the US government considered using bats to drop bombs on the enemy.”

“How do you know these things?” I asked as she reached for the now steaming kettle.

“I visit my public library,” she said primly and then laughed, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She turned her attention to Maggie. “So tell me about the bat cave. Did you find Alfred there?”

Maggie gave her a blank look. She wasn’t into comic book heroes.

“Batman’s butler,” I explained exchanging a smile with Rebecca. “Tell us what you found.”

“Brady thinks the bat may have been a long-eared bat. I didn’t know because I didn’t get a very good look at it.”

Rebecca paused with her cup in midair. “Wait a minute, wasn’t the long-eared bat on one of those lists John had?”

Maggie nodded.

“So it’s endangered?” I said.

“Threatened,” Maggie said.

“White-nose syndrome,” Rebecca interjected. “It’s killing bat populations all over North America.” She glanced at me. “That’s from PBS, not the library.”

“So if Brady is right about the type of bat and if they’re living in that cave—” I began.

“It might be enough to at least slow the proposal down for a while,” Maggie finished. “Brady said there is some precedent for protecting the bat’s habitat.”

“That’s wonderful news.” Rebecca smiled. “Have you told John yet?”

“He was in Red Wing all day, but I know he’s planning on being at the library in the morning,” I said. “There are a couple of things he wants to check in the herbarium again.”

“I could text him,” Maggie said, setting her cup down on the table. “But I really wanted to talk to him face-to-face.”

“Come over about ten,” I said. “I’ll be there. I changed shifts with Abigail.”

Rebecca touched my arm. “How’s Marcus?” she asked.

“He’s all right,” I said. “Thank you for asking. Dani’s family is waiting to have a funeral service until the investigation is wrapped up so Marcus—and John and Travis—are still hanging.”

“They need to say a proper good-bye,” Rebecca said. “That’s understandable. I’m sure Detective Lind will have things wrapped up very soon.” She glanced down at her watch. “Oh, I better get going,” she said. “I have a date with my husband and some Tubby’s frozen yogurt.”

“Have fun,” I said, leaning in to give her a hug. She reached for Maggie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Will you call me, dear, after you speak to John?”

“I will,” Maggie promised.

I stretched both arms up over my head. “I have to go, too,” I said. “Owen chewed the head off another chicken and I don’t think I got all the bits of catnip off the kitchen floor.”

“Does that mean he’s out of chickens?” Maggie asked.

“No,” I said firmly, narrowing my eyes at her. “Owen does not need any more chickens. He has enough assorted parts to put about half a dozen of them together. He’s the Dr. Frankenstein of funky chickens.” I glared at her. “No new chickens.”

“I heard you,” she said. She leaned over to give me a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I headed for the coat hooks, knowing there was at least one new Fred the Funky Chicken in Owen’s immediate future.

* * *

It was dark when I got home. I was unlocking the back door when something furry wound around my leg. I jumped, almost falling off the step. It was Hercules.

“You scared me,” I said, reaching down to pick him up. “What are you doing out here?”

He gave a non-committal murp but his green eyes darted to the big maple tree in the backyard. “Were you stalking that bird again?” I asked.

Hercules suddenly got very interested in the bag with my tai chi clothes hanging from my shoulder. “That grackle is tucked in his little bird nest right now. You can terrorize each other tomorrow,” I said. I gave the top of his head a scratch and started again to unlock the door.

“Kathleen,” a voice said behind me.

I jumped and swung around. Hope Lind was standing there. “I’m sorry,” she said, holding up one hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Do you have a few minutes?”

Hope was wearing her dark hair a little longer and the curls looked a little windblown, like she hadn’t had time to look in a mirror for a while. She was dressed in black trousers and heels that brought her to my height instead of the couple of inches shorter she was in flats.

“Of course,” I said. “C’mon in.”

Hope followed me inside. I set Hercules on the kitchen floor and he cocked his head to one side and eyed her.

I indicated the table. “Have a seat. I’m going to have a cup of hot chocolate. Would you like one? I have tea as well.”

She seemed distracted. “No,” she said, “hot chocolate is fine.” She glanced down at the cat. “Hello, Hercules.”

“Mrr,” he answered.

Hope looked around the kitchen. “This is a nice little house.”

“It actually belongs to Everett Henderson.” I put two mugs of milk in the microwave. “It was one of the perks he used to woo me to Mayville Heights.”

“I’m glad it worked,” she said, propping her elbows on the table.

We were both stalling, her in saying whatever it was she’d come to talk to me about and me in hearing her out. I could feel my pulse thumping in the hollow below my throat. This had to be about Dani’s death.

When the hot chocolate was made I set a cup in front of Hope and joined her at the table.

She cleared her throat. “Kathleen, I need to keep this conversation just between us.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t like keeping secrets from Marcus, Hope,” I said, wiping a hand over the back of my neck. “It’s gotten us into trouble in the past.”

“This has to do with Marcus. And I wouldn’t be here if there was anyone else I could talk to.”

I couldn’t miss the intensity in her voice. It matched the look in her eyes. I felt my chest tighten. I sighed. “All right.”

“Danielle McAllister’s death wasn’t an accident,” she said. “There’s evidence that she didn’t fall over that embankment.”

That was why the investigation had been taking so long. That was why Hope had been avoiding Marcus. “Did someone push her?” I asked. Had someone killed Dani because of the development? Would someone go that far?

Hope played with her cup, turning it in slow circles on the table. “The medical examiner thinks she was hit by a car, then the body was moved and she was . . . dropped over.”

An image of Dani, sitting at the table at Eric’s, laughing as she told the story of their first meeting in the biology lab flashed into my mind. I felt the sour taste of bile at the back of my throat. “That’s horrible,” I whispered.

“It gets worse,” Hope said. “We found her phone. It was a little way away from her body. It had probably fallen out of her pocket when . . . when she went over. At first, I wasn’t sure what we were going to be able to get from it.” She looked down at the table and then met my eyes again. “The last text Dani sent was to Marcus. She wanted to talk to him. He texted back a yes.”

“They did meet,” I said. “Over at the hotel.”

“I know,” Hope said. “This was after that.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “He texted back a yes?”

She nodded silently.

“That . . . that doesn’t make sense.” Because of his dyslexia Marcus rarely sent texts. He called people. Everyone who knew him knew that. “Why didn’t he call Dani back?”

Hope sighed softly. “I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t asked him. I haven’t told him about any of this. I haven’t told anyone, except now, you.”

“Maybe someone else sent that text,” I said.

“C’mon, Kathleen, you know Marcus. He doesn’t leave his phone lying around. And even if he did, you think what? That someone else at the station answered that text and now doesn’t want to admit it? Seriously?”

Okay, so it didn’t really make sense that someone else had answered Dani’s text, but it didn’t make sense to me that Marcus had, either.

Hope raked a hand back through her hair. “Look, I know he doesn’t text very often but he does sometimes. He sent me one this afternoon. Two words: Anything new? He wants to know what’s going on with the case. I’m guessing he didn’t call because he didn’t know where I’d be and he didn’t want anyone to know he’s asking.”

I nodded slowly. Hope was probably right. Marcus wouldn’t want to get Hope in trouble for keeping him in the loop.

Hope looked down at Hercules, still sitting next to her chair, his green eyes fixed intently on her as though he were following the conversation. I knew there was a good chance that he was. Her eyes met mine again. “I think you’re missing the point,” she said. “Marcus may have seen Dani the night she died. Why didn’t he say so?”

I stared at her. “Hope, you don’t think that Marcus . . . ?” I couldn’t finish the thought.

“No,” she said. She cleared her throat. “No.”

I felt Hercules lean against my leg. I studied Hope’s face. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She still didn’t say anything.

My heart was pounding so hard in my ears that my own voice sounded like I was underwater when I spoke. “Tell me!”

Hope looked at me for a long moment as though she was deciding what to do. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. She dropped it onto the table.

I leaned over for a closer look. For a moment I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. The bag held a small, round metal disc. On the front was a stylized black crescent moon bisected by a white line. There was a small gold star at the top point of the moon.

“It was underneath her body,” Hope said. “And before you tell me it’s not the only one in existence, I know that, but this one was wiped clean of fingerprints.”

“How did you get that out of the police station?” I asked, gesturing at the bag.

Her eyes slid off my face and she picked up her cup and took a drink.

“Hope, you broke the chain of evidence.”

“No, I didn’t,” she said. “It was never logged in as evidence.”

I just stared at her and finally, when I didn’t speak, she lifted her head and looked at me again. “You and I both know Marcus didn’t have anything to do with Danielle McAllister’s death. But he was the last person she had contact with and part of his key chain was found with her body.” She closed her eyes for a couple of moments and took several breaths. “And before you ask, John Keller and Travis Rosen both have theirs.” She had obviously uncovered the backstory of the key chains at some point in her investigation.

“You can’t hide evidence,” I said. A bubble of panic had settled in just under my breastbone and I pressed my fist there as if somehow I could hold it in place and keep it from overwhelming me. “I know how it looks, but you’re putting yourself at risk and if it comes out this will just make things look worse for Marcus.”

Hope opened her eyes again. “They were old friends, Kathleen, old friends who were involved in some kind of disagreement in a public place. And then one of them is dead. How much worse could it look?”

“It could look like Marcus asked his partner to hide evidence of a crime. You could lose your badge. You could go to jail. Both of you could.”

My voice was getting louder. Hercules pressed his furry body against my leg. I stopped talking and swallowed a couple of times to get my emotions under control.

Hope looked away again, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance.

“I know you care about him,” I said. “But you have to turn that key chain in, because you and I both know it doesn’t belong to Marcus so it has to belong to whoever killed Dani.”

“All right,” she finally said. She still wouldn’t look at me. “You know what will happen.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “You’ll be taken off the case and Marcus will be called in for questioning.”

“And then what?” Hope said, finally looking in my direction.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”