I looked up into his eyes and saw the worry he carried. “You want to talk? I’ll try not to pester you with questions.”
He put his arm around my waist and walked me into the kitchen, kicking shut the front door behind us. “Let’s sit for a minute. Do you have something cold to drink? Non-alcoholic?”
I snagged two sodas from the fridge and set them on the table. I plated three of the brownies I’d brought home from my visit to Sadie’s that morning and put the plate in front of Greg, who inhaled, then mimicked my sigh. “Sure, the food gets that response.” I sat and opened my soda, taking a sip before I spoke again. “You don’t really suspect Sadie of anything, do you?”
“Sadie? No. But maybe someone was trying to help. Someone who just happened to be home this last weekend?” Greg didn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.
I stared at him, understanding his implication. I’d even thought the same thing for a few seconds. “That’s impossible. Nick’s a good kid.”
“Unless it protected his mother. Then the kid would do anything.” Greg set the brownie down and ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. Dark circles were starting under his eyes, and I knew he still had to go back to the station for a while.
I shook my head. “No way. Nick wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not even to help his mother.” I took a sip of my soda. “I guess if she was being mugged or something in front of him, then maybe. But breaking in to the food truck? And don’t even suggest he could have killed Kacey.”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I just find it interesting that the weekend the truck gets broken into, Nick’s home from college. Not to mention that Sadie’s recipes were returned to her in the dead of the night. You remember how he helped that girl break into The Castle, maybe he was thinking this could help his mom?” Greg rolled his head in a large circle, then opened his eyes and smiled at me. “Even if I agree with you, I’ve got to question him. It’s my job.”
Realization hit me as I broke off a piece of brownie and popped it into my mouth. As I chewed, the heavenly chocolate flavor didn’t brighten my mood. I pointed my index finger at him. “You want me to tell Sadie.”
“Tomorrow morning after I’m on my way to Stanford. I don’t want her going all tiger mom on me and keep me from talking to Nick.” Greg rubbed his face. “I know she’ll want to know he’s all right after I talk to him. I’d call her, but she doesn’t trust me much right now.”
“If I play messenger, she might not trust me ever again.” I knew Greg had to talk to Nick, and, additionally, I knew I should be the one to tell Sadie. She deserved to know as soon as possible rather than getting a call from her kid or worse, the school, reporting Nick’s arrest.
My cell rang, the display showing Bill Sullivan, owner/operator of South Cove Bed-and-Breakfast, city council member, and chairman of the Business-to-Business group. I frowned. It wasn’t like him to call this late just to chat. I put on a smile I didn’t feel from the interruption and clicked on the phone. “What’s going on, Bill? Is Mary all right?” Mary was his wife and my aunt’s BFF. The pair were the Thelma and Louise of the South Cove set.
“Mary’s great, thanks for asking.” Bill’s voice wavered on the cell. “The council has ordered an emergency meeting. The mayor has a project he’s rolling out for South Cove.”
“When?” Next week would be hard to pull together. Maybe I’d be lucky, and they wouldn’t want to meet for two weeks.
“Great, I’m glad you’re on board. The meeting will be tomorrow at ten. Can we still hold it at your shop? I don’t expect you to close for the period, so we’ll just have to watch for the random customers.” Apparently he’d taken my single-word question as agreement, if not full-fledged approval. All I’d wanted was to find out a day and time to see if it was possible to pull together.
When I hung up, I realized Bill had set in motion the emergency protocol the council had put in place if the town was attacked by a wave of invading aliens, or even just the occasionally drunk driver. The phone chain had been started, and I’d have at least ten business owners in my shop tomorrow expecting coffee and a dessert. I stared at Greg. “I’m hosting a Business-to-Business meeting tomorrow, per special directive. Do you know anything about this?”
“No, I swear. Look, I’m running on fumes.” He stood and drained the soda out of his can and put it into the recycling bin. “You think about what I asked you. I’m heading back to the station and sleeping for a couple of hours. Then I’ll drive up to Stanford so I’m there first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll tell her.” I stood from the table and put my hand in his as we walked toward the front door. “I can’t let her find out from someone else.”