Cat Trick

Georgia shrugged. “Well, over at Fern’s, because I did a couple of caramel fudge cakes.” A couple of frown lines appeared between her eyes. “I did decorate a batch of cupcakes in the kitchen at the community center—one of the other partners from Legacy came for a quick meeting with us all, and Liam asked me to put together a little food for after. But that was a couple of days after Mike was already dead.”

“Were you missing the spatula then?”

“Honestly, I didn’t miss it at all. I think I have at least half a dozen exactly alike.”

An idea was starting to form in my head, like a snowball rolling downhill, gaining size and form as it went.

“Detective Gordon—Marcus—will get to the bottom of this,” I said. “He’s not just a good police officer; he’s my friend. You can trust him.”

“Okay,” Georgia said. She pressed her lips together and then gave me a small smile. “Thank you for . . . for listening and for believing me.”

“If I can help at all, please ask,” I said. I pointed over my shoulder at the library building. “I’m here most of the time when we’re open and Abigail knows how to get in touch with me when I’m not.”

I turned to Abigail. “I’ll see you Monday,” I said. I smiled at Georgia one last time and headed for Eric’s.

It was past one thirty, so the lunch rush was over when I stepped into the café. There were five people at one of the tables by the window, including a couple of artists who had studio space at River Arts. Marcus was sitting alone at a table by the end wall. He looked up when I walked in and smiled. Then he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. My feet had already started walking over to him.

“Hi,” he said.

I couldn’t help smiling back at him. “Hi.”

“Kathleen, I’m sorry,” he said.

I hadn’t been expecting that. “What for?” I asked.

“Could you sit down for a minute?” he asked, gesturing at the table.

I nodded and pulled out the other chair.

Marcus leaned one elbow on the table. “Look,” he said. “I keep saying, ‘Stay out of my case,’ but I do know that you’re not getting mixed up in my investigations on purpose.”

I could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. I owed him the same thing in return. “Sometimes I am,” I said.

His expression changed to surprise. He straightened in the chair and put a hand on each armrest. “Okay. Would you like to explain?”

This time I leaned forward. “Marcus, Harrison Taylor is very important to me,” I said.

He nodded. “I know. You risked your life to get those papers about his daughter.”

For a minute I was back in the old cabin in the woods, smoke slowly seeping into the small, dark basement where I’d been trapped. I swallowed and gave my head a little shake.

Marcus must have seen something in my face. “You all right?” he asked.

I nodded. “I’m okay. I was just thinking how happy I was to see you coming through the snow that day.”

“I was happy to see that you were alive,” he said quietly.

“You know I’d do anything that I could for Harrison, for any of the Taylors.” I cleared my throat. “Harry—Harry Junior—asked me to see what I could find out about Mike Glazer’s death.”

Marcus rubbed a hand across his chin. “You said yes.”

I nodded. “Have you met Wren Magnusson?”

“I’ve spoken to her.”

“She’s friends with Harrison’s daughter, Elizabeth.”

“And Mike’s brother, Gavin, was almost her stepfather.”

“Yes.”

Behind the counter, over Marcus’s shoulder, Claire held up a turkey sandwich and gave me an inquiring look. I nodded and focused on Marcus again. “People tell me things. Maybe it’s because I’m from away and they think their secrets are safe with me. Or maybe it’s because I’m a good listener.” I shrugged. “And I’m pretty decent at spotting a liar. I’ve been watching people pretend to be someone they’re not all my life.” I wished I had a cup or a glass so I’d have something to do with my hands. “Harry didn’t ask me to keep anything I learned from you, and I haven’t.”

Marcus continued to silently watch me. I could tell from the line of his jaw that he was clenching his teeth together.

Claire came over to us with the coffeepot. She poured a cup for me and topped up Marcus’s. “Your sandwich will be ready in a couple of minutes,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Marcus asked once Claire was back at the counter.