“We were just talking. I haven’t seen her in years,” Howard said.
Millie made a disgusted noise. “I don’t blame you, dear. I know she’s a witch and probably put a spell on you or something.” She turned toward Tom. “Is there a restraining order for spells? Because I want one of those, too.”
“Mrs. Fessler, have you asked Howard what they were talking about?” I asked. “Maybe she really just wanted a book.”
We all turned to Howard, who became pink while moisture beaded on his smooth head.
“See? That’s what he does,” Millie said, pointing at Howard. “If that isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is.”
I had to admit Howard wasn’t helping himself with the blushing and sweating.
“Mr. Fessler,” Tom said, “you don’t have to answer, but maybe you could tell us what you were talking about and reassure your wife it was all innocent. Then we can move on.”
Howard took a deep breath. “We didn’t talk about anything. She came in, and said hello. I said it had been a long time, and asked how she was. She said she’d been better and then Millie burst in like a lunatic, accusing her of all sorts of things.”
Millie sniffed.
“Neila barely escaped while I held Millie back.” Howard’s voice rose as he described the scene.
I felt a smile beginning and viciously suppressed it. The thought of ninety-one-year-old Millie brawling with Neila, also ancient, all over bald, pudgy Howard was actually kind of sweet.
“You can’t get a restraining order against someone for entering a business if they haven’t ever threatened or harmed anyone.” I could tell Tom was trying to keep his voice even but the aggravation crept in.
“Why do you think she came here after all this time?” I asked Howard.
He glanced at Millie and shrugged.
“She had her chance and she blew it.” Millie crossed her arms. “Now she’s after him again.”
I raised an eyebrow at Tom. He lifted a shoulder and grimaced, clearly no closer to understanding the issue than I was.
Howard blew out air. “We . . . courted a long, long time ago. It didn’t work out. Then much later”—he paused to cast a meaningful glare at Millie—“I met Millie. I can’t be held responsible for going steady with someone before I even met her.” He hooked a thumb in Millie’s direction and crossed his own arms.
Tom shuffled his feet and looked uncomfortable. I covered my grin with a cough. The thought of eighty-year-old Howard going steady was about to cause a fit of giggles.
“Maybe we should leave to let you two work this out,” I said.
Tom and I backed out of the store and I flipped the sign to CLOSED before shutting the door behind us.
“Wow, those two really keep you busy don’t they?”
Tom nodded and smoothed his shirt even though it looked freshly pressed. “She kind of scares me,” he said.
“I couldn’t tell,” I lied.
“Have you heard anything more about Diana or Dylan?”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. I don’t really know anything for sure, but I think Mac is going to let Diana go. He let her stay at the station last night, mostly because she refused to leave, but he doesn’t believe her confession.”
The tightness in my shoulders melted at this news. I knew Mac couldn’t have been fooled by her confession. It unfortunately made it look like Dylan’s own sister didn’t believe in his innocence, though. When I mentioned this to Tom he just nodded and sighed. I realized that Dylan’s arrest must have been hard on him as well. He and Dylan were always together when they were in school. He must have wanted to help him somehow. But once he was off the case, he had no more influence than the rest of us.
We’d walked almost back to the station and I stopped to let him continue on his own. If Mac was considering letting Diana go, I didn’t want to interfere and get into a stubborn contest with him.
I climbed into my car as my phone buzzed. A text from Seth read: Heading home—I’ll walk the dogs. I smiled and realized how glad I was to have him here in Crystal Haven.
I had just put the Jeep in gear when someone knocked on my window. I jumped and the phone flew out of my hand.
Mac was there and I rolled down the window.
“You probably shouldn’t text even while sitting at the curb,” he said with a grin.
“People don’t usually sneak up on me while I’m in my parked car,” I said.
His smile faded. “I need your help at the station.”
26
“So, what do you need?” I had to quicken my pace to keep up with him. “I have a lot of theories about what happened. I’m so glad you don’t suspect Dylan or Diana anymore. That was just crazy. . . .” Mac stopped and I had to backtrack.
“That’s not the kind of help I need,” he said.
“Oh. What then?” I tried to hide my disappointment with a bright smile, but could tell by the way Mac held my gaze that he’d seen it.
“It’s Diana. She won’t leave.”