I tapped my watch face and gave him a loaded look. “My friend Sean is on his way here. And he won’t be alone. This might be a really good time for Mr. Mason to meet the lovely Makayla.”
Comprehension dawned on Jude’s face. “I could certainly use a caffeine hit. How about you, Kirk? Care to take a trip down the stairs to Espresso Yourself?”
“I’m a café au lait man, myself, so I’d love to check out the coffee shop. Thanks, Lila.” A pair of dimples appeared on Kirk’s cheeks as he smiled.
The moment Jude had ushered his new client down the hall, I tried contacting Sean, but my call went straight to voicemail. That could only mean that he was on foot, probably racing into the building just as Jude and Kirk were descending the stairs.
“Feel better now, dear?” Flora inquired with concern.
Flashing her a grateful smile, I declared, “I might need to climb back into your wardrobe in a few minutes!” I then shot out of her office and barreled toward the landing where Vicky sat primly at her desk, sipping hot tea and humming softly to herself as she applied address labels to a stack of envelopes.
Jude must have really hustled Kirk into Espresso Yourself, because by the time I’d set my foot on the first step, they were nowhere in sight. At that moment, the lobby door was flung open and the sound of hurried footfalls echoed up the stairwell.
Sean moved up the stairs like a high school track athlete, calling out, “Lila!” as soon as he saw me.
In that single syllable I heard a lifetime’s worth of worry and fear and, yes, love. Within seconds, he had reached the top and, keeping one hand on his holster, drew me into his chest with the other. “Where is he?”
“It wasn’t him,” I answered quickly as three other officers bounded up the stairs, their bodies tense and coiled like a trio of panthers preparing to spring.
“What?” Sean demanded, pulling away in order to face me.
“The Kirk Mason who showed up here today is not Justyn. He’s a middle-aged man with a bald head and dimples.”
Sean stared at me with disbelief. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Lila.”
“I know, I know.” I raked my hands through my hair.
“Griffiths?” One of Sean’s fellow officers approached us. “You want me to do a sweep?”
He shook his head. “Negative. I’d like you to drive around the downtown district and see if you can spot our man. I’m thinking a ten-block radius. You’ve got a copy of the sketch, right?”
It seemed pretty transparent to me that he was trying to get rid of the other cops, but they responded to his order without question and hurried off, their utility belts clanking as they jogged down the stairs.
“Your office. Now.” Sean gave me a little nudge, propelling me forward. Vicky watched us with a curious gleam in her eye, but she remained mercifully silent.
Because I didn’t want to have my desk between us while we talked, I dragged my chair across the floor and pulled close enough to his that our knees touched.
“When did you first hear the name Kirk Mason?” he asked.
I searched my memory carefully before answering. “When I read his query letter, which really wasn’t a query but a sample of his work. It was very dark and I don’t know how his book chapter ended up in my in tray, so I passed it on to Jude.”
“Go on,” Sean prompted.
“And then Kirk Mason registered for the book festival using an incomplete address and requested an appointment at the agent pitch session,” I continued.
“A session that you shared with Jude, correct?”
Nodding, I said, “Yes. But he was there, Sean. Tall, creepy, wearing all-black…and he left that raven’s feather on my desk. And then, he came after me in the empty hallway. Even Jude thought he was Kirk Mason.”
“Justyn was at the pitch session. Justyn came after you, Lila. A writer named Kirk Mason had an appointment for a pitch session, but he was unable to attend that day. Therefore, he wasn’t the man in black.” Sean hesitated and then forced himself to finish. “You made an assumption based on a stranger’s writing sample.”
The truth of his words hit me full force, and I put my hand over my mouth as if I could call back my error. “You’re right. Oh, Lord, you’re right! I never had evidence linking Kirk Mason’s brief passage to the man who sent chills up my spine every time I looked at him. I heard Jude mention Kirk Mason after the pitch sessions, and later, that statement led me to believe that the writer was Melissa’s killer. I’m sorry, Sean. I pointed you in the wrong direction from the beginning.” My eyes grew moist. “Did my mistake create the opportunity for Justyn to murder Tilly?”