Reaching the station, I hurried into the reception area where Esmeralda was on the phone. I pointed to Greg’s office and shrugged my shoulders to ask if he’d arrived yet. She nodded then covered the mic on the phone. “Go on in, he’s alone.”
Even so, I gently knocked on the door before swinging it open. Greg, too, was on the phone. He waved me in and I took a chair.
“Look, all I want is a search warrant. I know I have probable cause for a search, so just do your job.” He slammed down the phone. “Judges should be shot and dumped into the ocean.”
“Bad day?” I perched on one of his chairs.
Greg stood and came around the desk, where he leaned onto the front and took my hands in his. “Until now.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t quite believe you, but it’s nice to hear.”
He ignored my comment. “So what brings you out on a Friday morning? I would have thought you’d still be in bed, sleeping.”
“I went down to the shop to be close in case Sasha needed something.” I rubbed my finger over his callused hand.
“She’s going to rebel sooner or later like all good children do.”
I shrugged my shoulders, watching the sun come out from behind a cloud. “That’s basically what she told me. So I left.”
“And came here to see me?” He pushed a stray lock away from my cheek. “I’m honored.”
“Actually, I wanted to try out a theory on you.” I pulled out my notebook and walked Greg through the steps that had to happen for Conner to have killed Kent. When I added in the part that Conner had a poison dart frog, Greg held up his hand, stopping my presentation.
“You know this how?” Greg picked up a pen and held it over his own notebook, poised for my answer.
“I called the pet store to see if anyone in the area owned the things.” I shrugged.
“They just gave you out of the blue a list of their customers and what pets they had purchased? Did they let you know how much money the company made last week, as well?”
This wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped. “Don’t be silly. I may have led the sales associate to believe I was in the market for a pet for my son.”
“You made up a son?” Now he was smiling. “What’s the poor kid’s name?”
I leaned back. “I didn’t name the kid. Do you want to hear my theory or not?”
“Go ahead.” He wrote down something, then tapped his pen on his notebook. “Hold up, was there anyone else your friend at the pet store mentioned who owns these crazy frogs?”
“One. Anne Marsh.” I saw Greg write down the name, then he listened to the rest of my theory. When I’d finished he glanced at his watch.
“I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Toby before his shift.” He walked around the desk, pulling me into his arms for a good-bye kiss. When he let me go, I stared at him.
“That’s all you got to say? ‘I’m meeting Toby’?” I put my hands on my hips. “This is a good theory. Can’t you just check it out?”
Greg put on a baseball cap with the South Cove seal and then took his bulletproof vest out from behind the door. “What do you think I’m meeting Toby for?”
Walking home, I considered Greg’s side of the situation. I was a private citizen, no matter how much I loved investigating. But still, you’d think that the guy could have said something during the ten minutes I’d sat there and told him everything he’d already known. Sometimes the man could be infuriating.
Instead of running with Emma, I took a frozen pizza out and put extra cheese on top before throwing it in the oven. Then I turned on the deep fryer and cooked some frozen fries for an appetizer. To round out the meal, I’d open a pint of Rocky Road for dessert. I poured a glass of zinfandel and took my fries and wine to the couch. I popped the first Harry Potter movie into the DVR player and settled in to enjoy. Emma stared at me from the corner of the couch. “Let Greg deal with South Cove’s crime. I’m a bookseller, for goodness’ sakes, not a private eye.”
Convinced that I wasn’t going to hand over a fry or two, she laid her head down and closed her eyes. When I finished the Harry Potter movie, I started on my romantic comedy collection. The phone rang during Sleepless in Seattle and woke me.
My eyes watered and blurred as I watched Meg Ryan climb into the closet with her corded phone. I laid my head back down on my pillow when my cell rang again. I didn’t look at the display when I answered, “Hello?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Greg had found Kent’s killer?” a woman’s voice shrilled in my ear. “Didn’t I make it clear you should be reporting your progress back? Or did you even try? Maybe Greg figured the whole thing out without any help from you.”
I sat up stretching my neck, which was kinked from my nap on the couch. “Who is this?” I held out the phone to try to see if the display showed a name, but nope, just a local phone number.
“Your worst nightmare. Now that I’m off the hook for Kent’s murder, I’m going after Greg.”