“Something changed?” I prompted.
“Yeah.” Tracy stared into her cup for a moment before meeting my eye. “I think they had some sort of a falling out. I spotted them in Dot’s coffee shop a few times, after hours when they used to have their strange little doll making sessions, and they were just bickering and picking at each other. “ I raised my eyebrows and she grinned. “Even more than usual.” She frowned. “Really going for it, you know?” I nodded and Tracy swirled her tea. “And then Agatha just stopped coming round. She stopped meeting the others, stopped going to the coffee shop, stopped harassing the people who came to admire Frankie’s displays in her windows. Even stopped going on her trips to gather the stuff to sell in the store, she sent Frankie instead.”
“That’s strange,” I said.
Tracy smiled at the waitress as she placed a fresh latte in front of me. “Yeah, it was really strange. And sad. Agatha wasn’t an easy woman, don’t get me wrong, but she was full of life before she fell out with her friends. I think that maybe Bianca and Dot feel a little bit guilty about the way things ended for their old friend. It’s hard to accept you left it too late to offer an olive branch, maybe it’s easier for someone like Bianca D’Arcy to pretend she doesn’t care instead?”
I nodded slowly. It made sense in a terribly sad way. I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against them, suddenly drained.
“Price,” Tracy hesitated. I opened one heavy eyelid. She scratched the tabletop with her thumbnail. “I didn’t just ask you here for coffee.” I sat up straight and opened both eyes. “I don’t really know how to say this, but I felt I had to let you know.” Her voice faltered and I held my breath. “I thought you should know the cops have been asking questions about Agatha. About you.” She took a deep breath. “They came to talk to me after your visit.”
I felt my skin grew cold at her words. “You know I had absolutely nothing to do with Agatha Bentley’s murder, right?”
Tracy's eyes widened and she reached her hand out to grab mine, giving my palm a gentle squeeze. “I know that; of course, I do. It’s a ludicrous suggestion. You didn’t even know the woman was dead the day I met you at her funeral. Price, I haven’t known you for long, but I can see in your eyes that you’re not capable of anything so horrible. You’re a kind soul. You’re vegan, for God’s sake. If you don’t eat animals, I hardly think you’d be the kind of person to hurt a human being.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. The knot was still tight in my stomach, but I wanted to believe the vet was genuine. If she was, at least I’d have one person in Salem on my side. Well, four if you counted the cats, which I highly doubt I could in court. And using Agatha’s ghost as a witness was obviously out of the question, not that she remembered anything, anyway.
I disentangled my hand from Tracy’s and waved for the server so I could order take-out for the guys, lowering my voice so Tracy couldn’t hear the scale of my very non-vegan order. I turned back to her with an awkward grin. “Just wanted to get some food in case I have any more unexpected visitors.” I gestured to the cat mural in an attempt to move the conversation along. “Salem is a regular cat heaven, right? Portland was full of dogs, dogs, dogs, but I literally can’t move without seeing a cat around here. It’s crazy.”
Tracy spread her fingers wide on the table. “Right? Oh my gosh, I’ve said the same thing to so many people. It wasn’t like this when I first got here. It happened a couple of years ago. Suddenly, there were just dozens upon dozens of stray cats everywhere. I don’t know if a shelter opened their doors or if one of the big pharma companies is up to something fishy, but it’s been a big problem lately.”
The server arrived with my box of take-out and I asked for the tab, waving Tracy’s money away. “Hey, you saw my three cats for free, I think a cup of tea is the least I can do.”
As we left the café, Tracy nudged my arm and I turned to face her. “Price, I don’t know what’s going on in Salem right now.” She sealed her lips for a moment and glanced over her shoulders before continuing. “But something is. And it’s not good. So, just mind yourself, okay? Be careful, be smart. You seem like a nice girl, and you don’t deserve to be messed up in anything strange, okay?” I nodded at her, thinking she had no idea just how strange my life already was. Tracy began to walk away, but turned back after a couple of steps. “Price, if the cops come after you, if they slap anything on you, call a lawyer and then call me, please. We have the death penalty in Oregon, this case isn’t a joke. If you need any help or have any more questions about anyone else in the neighborhood, just give me a call. I’ll do what I can to help, okay?”
I hugged the huge box of food to my chest and nodded as the vet disappeared around the corner, barely managing to throw the box onto the hood of Agatha’s car before I spewed two large matcha soy lattes down the drain.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Wow, you look like a sack of dog shit.” Agatha sniffed the air around my face. “And you smell like coffee-flavored vomit.”
I was too tired to respond and simply dropped the keys next to the door and hauled the box of take-out into the living room. “Where are the guys?” I looked down to see three cats sprawled on the floor, sleeping. They were cats and they were sleeping. Disappointment hit me like a sucker-punch, and I felt my jaw tighten as Agatha danced around me, her beady eyes fixed on my face. I dropped the food on the table with a thud. “Whatever. Like I give a rat’s ass.”
Fighting tears of frustration, I slipped out of the apartment and made my way down to the thrift shop. I sat in the large velvet chair for a long while, staring at the wall and trying to remember when I’d last been truly happy. A jumble of images from the past few days filled my mind and I grabbed a satin cushion and pressed it against my face. Happiness inspired by people who were half-cat didn’t count, right? I groaned into the pillow. Maybe I had been happy when I opened my juice bar? But I knew I hadn’t been, not really. Not when I remembered Gerard’s patronizing pep talks or the way he scowled when he checked my accounts at month-end. And it wasn’t when Gerard asked me to marry him, offering me the ring with one hand and taking my life-savings with the other. But I hadn’t minded giving him my money, because he needed it. For the yogalates business. Our business.
“No, Price, you silly, silly woman. His business,” I muttered. I lifted the pillow and flung it as hard as I could at the huge mirror on the far wall.
Agatha appeared around the corner. “What seems to be the trouble, hipster?”
I glared at her, waiting for a sarcastic remark, or a sly dig about my harem, but it never came. I sank back into the soft velvet and stared at the ceiling. “Everything. Everything is wrong. I need a damn fresh start, but I’ve just jumped from the frying pan into the fire, and I have no idea how to fix it.” I opened my eyes and stared at the old witch. “I’ve been running in circles all day, and I still have no answers. Or maybe too many answers. Are you sure there’s absolutely nothing that you remember surrounding your death, Agatha?”