Their entrees arrived before Becca could respond. And while she tried to focus on her salad, the nachos were as tempting as all the unanswered questions that kept popping up.
“Drugs?” With her mouth full of cheese and chili, that was the best she could manage. “Did you tell the police that?”
“I didn’t want to, how do they say, muddy the waters.” Trent took a bite of his veggie burger and waited for her to answer. “You didn’t notice anything?”
Becca thought back. “Only that something was bothering her.”
“You see? I knew it.”
That wasn’t what she had meant. Only now, sitting here, she had to wonder. Had Suzanne wanted to confess to a problem? Is that why she wanted to get Becca alone?
“Poor girl.” Trent chewed thoughtfully. “I knew she was hard up for money too. So that might all be connected. I mean, I don’t think she’d have asked you because we all know about your job and all.”
Becca began to respond—to share what Ande had said—and then caught herself. She wasn’t sure, but she suspected that the tall accountant had told her about the missing funds in confidence.
“What?” Trent’s question caught her in mid-thought.
“Suzanne did want to speak with me, alone,” Becca confessed, reaching for the nachos. “That’s why I went over to her place on Saturday. You know, when I found her?”
“That’s so sad.” He shook his head. “I don’t think you should bring this up when the coven gathers. Let her have her dignity.”
Becca started to protest—Trent was the one who was suggesting the dead woman had a drug problem. But another thought interrupted. “And the police didn’t ask you about any of this?”
“Nope.” Trent’s answer was cut short as he bit into a nacho. She didn’t want to tell him about the string of cheese that had just caught in his beard. “Why muddy—”
He must have noticed her gaze, as he paused to fish out the cheese. “Sorry.” His smile was charming.
“So what did the police ask you?” The caffeine was definitely kicking in.
“The usual.” He waved the question off. “You know, how I knew her. Why I had her key. I gave them the parking receipt from the city meter, so they knew I’d only pulled up to her street after you arrived, so…”
His explanation ended in a grin. A guilty grin, Becca realized, as it seemed to focus suspicion back on her. “I was only there a few minutes earlier.” She didn’t like how defensive she sounded.
“I’m glad!” Those eyebrows again. “Maybe you got lucky. I mean, in the grand scheme of things.”
Becca swallowed hard, the chip stuck in her throat. “Lucky?” The word came out as a croak.
“I mean blessed, of course. Beloved of the goddess. Think about it, Becca. We don’t know if it was her dealer or just some random crazy off the street.” Trent leaned in, his dark eyes aglow. “But if you’d been there a little earlier, Becca, it might have been you.”
Chapter 20
“I can’t believe you went out with him!” Clara’s powers tended to accentuate her hearing, but even an ordinary cat could have heard the yelling over the phone. Becca’s ex, Jeff, sounded like a tomcat whose tail had been stepped on. “He’s a person of interest. Becca, are you nuts?”
Despite her own annoyance—she couldn’t help but agree with the angry man on the phone—the calico was doing her best to soothe her person. Becca had slept badly again, even with her obvious exhaustion. And although Jeff’s call had woken her from an early nap, she’d been plagued by scary dreams. That—and his apparent concern—had prompted her to tell her ex about her outing the evening before. At least, that’s what Clara hoped had brought about the confession. As the little calico began to knead, working on Becca’s shoulder as her person slouched on the couch, she looked around for Laurel. Her sister was definitely capable of using anything to provoke some interesting jealousy.
“Jeff, I was just telling you where I was.” Becca’s eyes were closing again. Clara could feel her fatigue and increased the pressure of her massage, hoping to relieve some of Becca’s tension. “Ow, wait—”
She sat up, moving away from the calico. Across her lap, Clara caught a glimpse of Laurel’s smirk as her seal-point sister settled down beside their human. Drawing her own paws under her creamy chest, Clara considered. She didn’t know if her sister was simply enjoying the drama or had an ulterior motive. Jeff had always been quite complimentary about Laurel’s sleek markings. Clara glared at her sister, and felt her ears begin to flatten in anger. But then Becca began talking again, and Clara turned to listen in.
“It wasn’t a date.” Becca was using a particularly flat tone of voice that Clara recognized. It was the same tone that she used when she was pretending she didn’t have any more treats. The man on the other end of the line seemed to recognize it too. Even before he began to speak again, she felt as much as heard the intake of breath that presaged an argument.
“Look.” Becca must have heard it too, as she cut him off. “I’m involved in this. Suzanne and I were friends. Besides,” her voice dropped to a near whisper, “she wanted my help, Jeff. That’s why I went over there.”
Laurel’s ears pricked up as Jeff answered. Laurel always did have an instinct for scandal.
“This had nothing to do with you, Jeff.” Becca, on the other hand, preferred her life to be straightforward, whether it really was or not. It was one of the reasons that Clara felt protective of her. “At least, I don’t think so. Trent said—” The young woman paused, clearly gathering her thoughts. Across her lap, Laurel’s eyes closed in pleasure. “Trent agreed that something else was bothering her. So if there’s anything that we can tell the police—”
Another burst of noise from the phone. Clara was leaning in, but lost the thread as her oldest sister landed hard beside her.
“Are we having treats?” Harriet pushed by Clara on her way to Becca’s lap. “Why didn’t anyone wake me?”
“I was here first.” A hint of a growl from Laurel, but Becca was too distracted to notice. To the cats’ dismay, she stood up and began pacing. And while Laurel and Harriet stared at each other from opposite ends of the sofa, Clara jumped down to follow their person around the apartment.
“Yes, I know what you told the police, Jeff.” The note of tension made Clara’s spine stiffen. “But that just made them suspect me, and I know I didn’t want to hurt her. She is—was—a friend, and I found her. So, yeah, I want to help.”
She stopped so quickly that Clara nearly bumped into her. It was only the round little calico’s feline grace that allowed her to swerve in time to brush by her person’s ankles instead.
“What are you talking about, Jeff?” Becca’s voice had gone cold, and Clara peered up, trying to see her face. “Why would I need a lawyer?”
***
“You’re not the one who needs a lawyer.” Maddy showed up soon after, bearing scones and sympathy. Although Clara wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, it was obvious that Becca’s furious typing on her laptop had communicated the latest. Still, it was Harriet who had first spotted Becca’s old friend—or at least the bakery box she carried—and jumped heavily from her window seat to greet the plump young woman with a purr. “Oh, what a nice cat!”
Maddy bent to stroke the fluffy marmalade’s back as Harriet reached up to nose the cardboard box.
“You can’t think that Jeff…” Becca turned back toward the kitchen. After a night tossing and turning, she trod as heavily as Harriet. “That he would…”
“I don’t know what to think.” Maddy stood, to Harriet’s dismay, and followed her friend into the apartment. “But they had been seeing each other, and Suzanne wanted to talk to you. And now he seems to be keeping tabs on you awfully closely.” She placed the box on the table and pulled up a chair.