Chapter 12
Pushing my way toward the front of the store, my eyes met Liza Martoni’s with a question in them, but she turned and bolted out the door with a sob.
Good thing I wore my very practical running heels. I took off after her, darting from the store.
“Left! Go left, Stevie!” Win ordered.
But I didn’t have to go far. Liza’s sobs could be heard even over the light rain, coming from the direction of Madam Z’s store.
“Liza!” I called. “Please don’t run away.” I edged toward her, avoiding puddles and holes.
When I made it to the front of the store, I saw the crime-scene tape was still in place. Shoot, I felt bad. Reaching for her arm, I squeezed it. “Liza? Come with me. Let’s talk and you can tell me all about Chicken-Opolis.”
She lifted her red head, her wide eyes brimming with tears. “Okay,” she whispered, allowing me to take her hand.
I tucked it under my arm and pulled her toward the spice shop, where I hoped there was less of a crowd who wanted to tar and feather me, but where I’d also heard they served tea.
Pulling her inside, I was relieved to see there was only one patron. Amidst the shelves upon shelves of spices, I found a table in a quiet corner surrounded by the scent of sage and lavender and sat down.
Liza instantly let her face fall to her hands, tears dropping to the glistening wood table in salty blobs. Her slender shoulders sank inward beneath her neon-green hoodie. She looked so small, so defeated, I almost cried, too.
Clearing my throat, I kept my voice low. “Liza? I’m so sorry about your nana. But I’m trying to help find out who did this.” I dug a tissue out of my purse, stroking Belfry’s ear before handing it to her.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “Every time I think I’m all dried up, the waterworks start again. I miss her so much.”
My heart constricted. “Did you spend a lot of time with her?”
She bobbed her head, finally lifting her wide eyes to meet mine. “Every day almost. I go to the University of Washington, so I would always drop by the store on my way home from classes to be sure she had dinner. We never missed an episode of The Blacklist, and during the spring and summer, we always went to the farmers’ market together.”
“A college girl, huh? Bet she was proud of you, Liza.”
“I’m the first in my family to go, and now…now she won’t see me graduate this spring. She was so happy for me when I got in. She teased me all the time about how big my brains were.”
“Damn,” Win muttered softly.
Yes. Damn.
“Did you ever notice anything suspicious going on with her? Anything that made you think she was acting out of character lately?”
“Not a single thing. She was in great spirits when I saw her the night before…before she…died.” Liza worried her upper lip before pressing her fingers to her mouth.
“Any new people in her life, anyone strange at the store?”
“Just the usual suspects who came in for readings all the time.” As Liza rattled off a few names of some regulars, I mentally tucked them away for future reference.
I reached out a hand in sympathy, squeezing her arm. “Liza, I know this is a really horrible time for you, but I want to help find who did this to your nana.”
“But why? You didn’t even know her. Is it because everyone in town is calling you a murderer? Ignore the bunch of gossips. They talk about anything and everything.”
It wasn’t just Win driving me anymore. It was Liza’s grief. Her loss. I felt it, too. “No. The gossips don’t concern me, but I feel this crazy connection to your nana that I can’t quite explain. I’m the one who found her, and I’ve heard so many wonderful things about her, I just want to help. So do you mind if I ask you some more questions?”
She shrugged. “If you think it’ll help, ask anything you want.”
“What did you mean when you said Chicken-Opolis killed her?”
Now her eyes flashed hot and bright. “It was that man my father was talking to! Some guy named Hendrick Von Adams. He wanted to buy Nana’s store and turn it into a franchise chicken place, but Nana said no. Who else would want to hurt her? Isn’t money always the motive for murder? He could make a lot of money being the first in the franchise to open in the Pacific Northwest.”
“So this Hendrick from Chicken-Opolis talked to your nana and she said no sale. Why did he go to your father then?”