The Fast Аnd Тhe Furriest

Chapter 6

We got to Josh’s office about five minutes before the scheduled appointment time. Josh was waiting. His suit jacket was off and he was wearing purple suspenders with his gray trousers. “Hi, Sarah,” he said. He turned to Mac. “Come on in. Michelle should be here any minute.”

Mac hesitated. “Is it all right if Sarah joins us?”

“I don’t need to,” I said.

“I’d like you to.” Mac looked at Josh. “Is there any reason she shouldn’t?”

“It’s fine,” Josh said. “Everything you say will be on the record so there’s no problem with Sarah being there if you want her.”

“I do,” Mac said. He looked at me again. “Please. I want you to know everything that’s going on.”

I nodded. “All right.”

We followed Josh into his office. The entire space was painted a soft white and the room was flooded with afternoon sunshine, which made it seem less intimidating. The office had high ceilings and the wall behind Josh’s desk was a bank of tall, wide windows with the original detailed trim from when the building had been built over a hundred years ago. To the left of his dark wooden desk were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with a rolling library ladder to reach the highest volumes. To the right was a wall of exposed brick. In front of the desk an oriental rug in shades of navy, red and gold covered part of the pickled oak floor and there were two chocolate brown leather chairs for guests.

“Michelle asked for this meeting because she says she has some new information about Ms. Fellowes’s death,” Josh said. “She’s always been straight with me so I don’t have any reason to disbelieve her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t looking for more information.”

The phone on his desk buzzed then. Michelle had arrived. Josh’s assistant showed her in. She was wearing a black skirt with a short-sleeve lavender blouse, and her hair was pulled back from her face. “Hi, Josh,” she said with a smile. “Thanks for fitting this in today.”

“I’m happy to accommodate the police department whenever I can,” he replied.

I knew that Michelle had wanted the meeting at the police station and Josh had insisted it be at his office. Her comment and his response made it sound as though she’d asked for a small favor instead. If Liz had been with us she would have called it “territory marking.” Actually she would have made a comment more appropriate to dogs and fire hydrants.

“You said you had some new information,” Josh said.

Michelle nodded. “I do. I wanted you to hear it from me and I wanted to give Mac the chance to amend his statement.”

“We appreciate that,” Josh said. He gestured to the leather chairs set around a round glass-and-metal table in front of the brick wall. “Let’s sit down.”

We all took a seat, Josh on one side of Mac and me on the other.

Michelle directed her attention to Mac. “We have a witness—a very credible one—who saw you arguing with Erin Fellowes the night she was killed.”

“It’s not possible,” Mac said. “I told you I couldn’t find her.”

“Wait a minute, that’s it?” Josh said, interrupting him. “That’s nothing new. You told us last night that someone thinks they might have seen Mac talking to your victim.”

I noticed how he put extra emphasis on the word “might.”

So did Michelle. “Did see him,” she corrected. Her eyes flicked to me for a moment. “The witness heard Erin Fellowes call Mac by name.”

“They’re wrong,” Mac said. “I left Erin some voice mail messages and I went to the Rosemont Inn. She wasn’t there. I checked the restaurants in the area and I walked around the nearby streets looking but I didn’t find her. Your witness is lying or mistaken.”

“Maybe Erin was mugged,” I said.

Michelle shook her head. “She had her wallet and her cell phone and she was wearing a pretty expensive pair of diamond earrings.”

“Is there anything else?” Josh asked. He’d made a note on the yellow pad in front of him and now he set his pen down.

Michelle shook her head. “Not unless there’s anything else you want to tell me.” She spoke to Josh but I saw her glance at Mac and I realized her words were more for him.

“Have you released cause of death yet?” Josh said.

Michelle’s mouth moved for a moment before she spoke. “Ms. Fellowes was smothered,” she said.

Mac’s hand tightened on the armrest of his chair but he didn’t speak.

Josh stood up. “Thank you for keeping us updated. I appreciate that.” He held out his hand.

Michelle got to her feet as well. Her gaze flicked over to me for a moment. Then she shook Josh’s hand. “Thanks for your time,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll be talking to you again soon.”

Josh walked around the table and showed her out. After his office door had closed behind her, he turned to face us.

Mac rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “Smothered. That’s horrible.” His voice was rough with emotion.

“That kind of violence suggests a lot of anger,” Josh said. “Can you think of anyone who might have felt that way about Erin?”

Mac shook his head. “I haven’t seen Erin in a long time, but when I knew her there was no one that would have wanted her dead. No one who would have done something like that.”

“Just the same, put together a list of friends and colleagues for me, please.”

“I said too much again, didn’t I?” Mac asked.

Josh nodded. “Yes, but there’s no real harm done. You said the same thing you said last night, so it’s already on the record.”

“You don’t seem that worried about this witness,” I said.

“Given the weather and the time of night, I’m not. Eyewitness IDs are known for being unreliable, and overheard conversations even more so.” He rolled his eyes. “How many times have you heard that some reliable eyewitness spotted Bigfoot somewhere in the state?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to find out who this person is, though.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Josh agreed. “I take it the Angels are on the case.”

“They are.”

“I’ll call Alfred, then.” He turned to Mac. “Could someone be setting you up? Does anyone have a grudge against you?”

“Other than my in-laws,” he said. “No. And Leila and Erin have been friends since they were kids. They would never do anything to hurt Erin.” He shook his head. “I can’t think of anyone.”

“Think harder,” Josh said.

Mac shook his head. “No. It’s impossible.”

There was nothing more to say. Josh said he’d keep in touch and we left.

Mac didn’t say a word until we were headed in the direction of the shop. “Why do you believe in me?” he asked. “Why do you just accept what I’ve said without question especially since Michelle clearly thinks I’m lying?”

My eyes flicked away from the road for a moment. He was looking at me with a genuine questioning expression on his face. I turned my attention back to the road in front of me. “I’m a pretty good judge of character and you haven’t given me any reason not to believe you. My dad says you trust someone until they give you a reason not to and then you stop. You haven’t given me a reason not to.”

I remembered the argument I’d had with Nick and his accusation that I had different standards when it came to his actions and behavior than I had for anyone else’s. In the end I trusted Mac because some feeling, some instinct, told me I could. I had an uncomfortable thought that maybe . . . maybe what Nick had said might be true.

“What was Erin like?” I asked.

Mac smiled. “Smart. Funny. She worked for a commercial bank. She spoke three languages—English, Spanish and Mandarin—four if you count Klingon.”

I shot a look his way. “Okay. You’re not serious,” I said.

The smile grew wider. “Yes I am. She was a serious Star Trek geek—all the incarnations. One year for a Halloween party she dressed up as Lieutenant Uhura; the original one with the go-go boots and the little thing in her ear.”

“What about you? Who did you dress up as?”

Mac gave me a sheepish grin. “Leila and I were Buffy and Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She liked that show.”

I glanced over at him again. “So you had the white-blond hair?” I couldn’t quite picture that.

He nodded. “Temporarily. At least it was supposed to be temporary.” The grin faded. “It seems like a long time ago,” he said, quietly.

When we got back to the shop Rose, Mr. P. and Elvis were still there. Rose was at the workbench sorting through a box of teacups with a little—very little—help from Elvis. “Why are you all still here?” I said. “I thought Liz was picking you up.”

“She was already here,” Rose said, “but the people who bought that dresser called and they’re coming after all in about”—she looked at the watch on her arm— “fifteen minutes. I knew you wanted to get it out of the shop so you can bring the furniture from Clayton’s place so I told them we’d wait for them.” She looked at Mac. “How did the meeting go?”

He made a face. “The police have a witness who saw me with Erin.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Rose said, waving away the words like she was shooing a fly. “Eyewitness testimony is appallingly inaccurate. Read Elizabeth Loftus’s work on memory recall.”

“I’ll do that,” I said. I looked at Mr. P. “Josh said he’ll call you. He wants to know who the witness is.”

“I have a couple of ideas, my dear.”

I didn’t ask what they were because I really didn’t want to know.

Mac reached out to stroke Elvis’s fur. “I didn’t kill Erin and I didn’t hurt Leila,” he said. The cat’s expression didn’t change.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I said, putting my hands on my hips and shaking my head at him.

“It’s important that you all know I didn’t do this.”

Rose reached up and patted his cheek with one hand. “We don’t need Elvis’s lie-detecting skills to know that,” she said.

It was more like half an hour before the man and woman who had bought the dresser showed up to get it, and then it took time to get it loaded securely in their borrowed half-ton truck. Elvis, Rose and I were an hour late leaving the shop.

“Did Mr. P. find out anything more about the FTC investigation?” I asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “But he’s going to do a little more digging around tonight.”

Mr. P. had the computer skills of a first-class hacker. I knew what “digging around” could really mean.

“Rose, do you think that life insurance policy is important?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “It could be that Mac is right and Leila bought it to protect her sister. It certainly seems as though she cared a great deal about Natalie.”

“But,” I said. “I know there’s a ‘but.’ I saw the look you gave Alfred when Mac said that he and Leila talked about everything.”

Rose sighed softly. “It’s just that we want to believe the best of family but it doesn’t always mean that’s what we get.”

When we got home Elvis followed Rose down the hallway. “Do you two have plans?” I asked, standing in front of my own front door.

“We’re making egg rolls,” Rose said as if it was perfectly logical that my cat would be helping her.

“Umm, okay, then. Have fun.”

“You, too, dear,” Rose said as she stuck her key in the lock of her front door. “And try not to dump any food on Nicolas because salsa is so hard to get out of a light-colored shirt.” She smiled sweetly at me and she and Elvis disappeared inside the apartment.

Since I was running late I had a quick shower and pulled on shorts and a blue-and-white-striped tee with loose sleeves that I’d bought in the spring when I’d injured my hand and had to wear a brace, and then hadn’t worn it since. I left my hair down and was looking for my favorite sandals when there was a knock at the door. Rose, I guessed, probably bringing something I could have for breakfast, but when I opened the door Nick was standing there.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

“I’m meeting Jess in a few minutes,” I said. “How long is this fight going to take?” Jess and I—and quite often Nick—had a weekly date at The Black Bear for Thursday Night Jam.

He braced one hand on the doorframe. “No fighting, I swear. I already had an argument with my mother over the Angels working on Mac’s case and I don’t want to fight with everyone in my life.”

“I thought you said you were going to stop squabbling with your mother and Rose about their cases.”

“I was,” he said. “I am. I—” He let out a breath then he stepped inside the apartment, closed the door and leaned back against it.

“You’re assuming the worst about Mac,” I said. “You know him. You know he’s a good guy.”

“Sarah, he’s lying. No matter what Mac says, he did meet Erin Fellowes right before she was killed. Michelle has a witness.”

“The witness is mistaken,” I said flatly.

“No. The witness isn’t wrong.”

“You’re going to take the word of a stranger over Mac?” My voice was getting louder. I stared up at the ceiling for a moment and took a couple of deep breaths. I didn’t want Rose coming down the hall to separate us again.

“The witness knows Mac.”

My frustration got the better of me. “I don’t care who it was,” I said. I repeated the words, enunciating each one carefully. “I. Don’t. Care. Whoever it is, they’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not,” Nick said.

I’m not.

I stood there, body rigid, just staring at him. His cell rang then. “Let it ring,” I said. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his face.

“I can’t,” he said, pushing away from the door. “I’m on call.” He answered the phone, spoke briefly and then ended the call. “I have to go.”

“And we have to talk.” I felt desperate to hear more, to understand why Nick was so sure he’d seen Mac.

“I know.” He made a helpless gesture. “There’s a body. I have to go.”

“Go, then,” I said.

“You can’t tell anyone, anyone, what I told you.”

“I won’t.” I knew if I said anything it would cause problems with Michelle for both of us. Nick gave me a long, searching look and then he left.

I stood there in the middle of my living room, unsure of what to do now. I knew Nick wouldn’t lie and given his keen observation skills I didn’t see how he could be mistaken.

But.

But I knew in my gut that Mac wasn’t lying. I rubbed the middle of my forehead with the heel of my hand and thought that I was starting to think like Rose.

I realized that I needed to leave if I wanted to make it to the jam on time. It seemed like a better alternative to sitting at home eating a carton of mocha fudge and trying to figure out why Nick was so sure he’d seen Mac. I gave up on my pretty sandals, stepped into my red Keds and left.

Jess had gotten us a table close to the front. I slid onto the empty chair. She took one look at me, raised a finger and somehow even with the crowd, a waiter appeared at our table. “What would you like?” she asked.

I hesitated, my mind a blank.

“Fish tacos and vinegar coleslaw for both of us,” she said, giving the waiter a smile that had him tripping over his own feet as he headed for the kitchen. Jess had that effect on men. She was curvy in all the right places, with thick, dark hair and a smile that could make a guy forget his own name.

“What’s up?” she said to me, reaching for the glass of wine in front of her.

I gave her a brief rundown on what was going on, how Mac had a wife in a coma and how her friend had come to town to see him and now she was dead.

“And let me guess,” Jess said. “Rose and her cronies are on the case and Nick’s got his man panties in a wad.”

I couldn’t help it, that last part made me laugh. “In a nutshell, yes.”

“Nick being the nut.”

I slumped against the back of my chair. “I feel like my loyalty is being pulled in two opposite directions.” I made a face. “I wish I were an amoeba.”

Jess frowned. “How exactly would being a microscopic, single-celled organism help? Aside from the fact that if no one was able to see you they wouldn’t be able to pull you in any direction.”

“I could undergo binary fission and then there would be two of me so I wouldn’t have to pick a side.”

Jess shook her head. “Yeah, but you couldn’t eat fish tacos if you were an amoeba and the ones I see coming look pretty darn good.”

Our waiter was back with our food and Jess was right, the fish tacos looked delicious and smelled even better.

“Wanna know what I think?” she asked around a mouthful of crispy battered fish, corn taco and salsa.

“Yes,” I said, reaching for my fork so I could try the coleslaw. “Because otherwise I’ve just been whining to hear the sound of my own voice.”

“Don’t take a side and yes, I do know how hard that is. Just for now, follow the facts and see where they go.”

I laughed. “I thought you were going to say something like ‘follow your heart.’”

She shrugged and gave me a smile. “That’s not a bad idea, either.”