After loading a plate with roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and honey-glazed carrots at the grocery store’s hot food bar, I selected a small café table near the windows and tried to read a few query letters. However, I started thinking about Melissa’s murder instead. My look-alike hadn’t been killed by a disgruntled coworker or her husband. More than ever, I was certain that Kirk Mason was responsible.
I recalled how I’d felt when he’d dropped the black feather on my table during the pitch session. He wore menace like it was yet another body piercing, and I’d been instinctively afraid of him. If I’d had enough sense to feel fear, then why had a woman as smart and savvy as Melissa followed him into a dark and deserted corridor? Even though she’d received the photograph of her son’s teddy bear, what had driven her to meet an obviously unstable man all alone? A significant piece of the puzzle was missing, but I didn’t know what more I could do other than relay the information about Ruben to Sean.
My meal devoured, I dialed his number. Once more I was disappointed and to be honest, a little irritated to be put through to his voicemail. I gave him an abbreviated account of Ruben’s activities during the weekend Melissa had been killed and said that I’d be happy to drop the fax off at the station, but I’d rather do so when I knew he’d be there.
Returning to the office, I tried to be as industrious as I’d been during the morning, but failed. As if in tune with my recollections of Kirk Mason, the slate gray sky darkened into a shade of charcoal and it began to rain. I sat at my desk, wondering how I’d concentrate on query letters when I felt so distant from the people I cared about. Trey was busy at the co-op, Sean was tied up with the case, and lately, my mother only called me when she didn’t have clients to see.
And yet, my case of the blues was nothing in comparison to what Melissa’s husband and son were experiencing. For them, the immediate future was like the sky over Inspiration Valley: sunless, bleak, and filled with tears.
BY MIDAFTERNOON I had a crick in my neck. I stretched my arms high, reaching for the ceiling to unfurl the tension, when Flora knocked on my open door.
“Oh, Lila, I’m sorry to interrupt. Could you do me a favor?” She held up a spiral-bound notebook that I recognized as Tilly’s by its bright pink cover. “I called Tilly to tell her I had this and she’s frantic to have it back today. I’d run it over, but I can’t leave my desk as I’m waiting for an important phone call. Do you mind?” She pointed to a Post-it note stuck on the cover. “That’s her address.”
“Sure, Flora. I welcome the distraction.” Taking the notebook from her, I said, “I can’t really ride my Vespa there in the rain, though. I’ll call my mother and see if I can borrow her truck.” I could also take the opportunity to drop the fax off at the police station, and at the same time sit with the sketch artist to render a likeness of Kirk Mason. Perhaps Sean would have returned by then.
My mother answered the phone at the first ring and agreed to pick me up at the agency. “I was about to leave for Dunston myself. I’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail and you can tag along to see that policeman of yours.” Once again, Amazing Althea was close to the mark. It occurred to me that, since I’d moved to Inspiration Valley, my skepticism about her powers had lessened. If only those powers could help us nail Melissa’s murderer.
“Thanks, Mama. I have some errands to run while we’re in Dunston. Is that okay?”
“That works out fine, honey. You can take the truck after droppin’ me at ol’ Miz Margaret’s. She’s bedridden now but still needs my guidance.” She coughed importantly. “You can collect me when I’m done and then we can go to Bill’s Bar and Grill. I’ll be needin’ plenty of Jimmy Beam’s special brand of reenergizer after readin’ for Miz Margaret.”
She sounded cheerful about the supper plan, and I realized she was probably delighted to have a designated driver.
THE RAIN HAD stopped by the time we reached Dunston, although the sky remained stubbornly gray. I delivered my mother to Miss Margaret, my ears buzzing with her predictions and advice, and headed for the Dunston police station. Even though I was dating Sean, I’d only visited this place twice.
Climbing the steps, I recalled the first time I’d been here, when Trey had been in trouble for destroying school property, and subsequently when I came to give an official statement regarding violence and death. I shuddered at the memories, and then, as if by divine intervention, the clouds in the sky drifted apart and the afternoon sun shone brightly overhead.
Those incidents were behind me, and today I was here to deliver a document that would exonerate one man and hopefully bring the police closer to arresting a guilty one. I squared my shoulders and pushed open the door.
The young policewoman at the front desk smiled as I approached. “Can I help you?”
“Is Officer Griffiths in?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. He’s out on a case. Do you want me to call his partner?”