He smiled, the first genuine smile I’d seen from the man since we’d walked into Eric’s. “Were we fighting?” he asked.
Maggie let that pass and answered Peter’s smile with one of her own. “Do you know who Jaeger’s executor is? There are boxes of his things at his studio and more at the store.”
“I don’t know for sure,” he said. “Probably me.” He looked at his watch. “I have to be in court this afternoon. Are those things going to be okay where they are for a day or so? I’ll see what I can find out.”
“They’re fine,” she said. “A lot of his stuff was packed in boxes already because of all the water.” Her face clouded over. “If it hadn’t rained so much, if those stairs hadn’t been wet…”
“It’s wet all over town,” Peter said. “What happened to Christian was just a stupid, careless accident. It could have happened to anyone. It could have happened to you.”
A shiver slid up my back. I remembered how Maggie had slipped on those wet, wooden steps when we’d found Jaeger, and almost ended up in the filthy water herself.
Peter looked at me. “I hear you had an accident out at Wisteria Hill. You’re all right?”
I nodded. “Yes, I am. Thanks.”
He held up his left hand. There was a large, bandage on most of the palm. “I did this in the parking lot of my own office.” He leaned sideways and looked out the front window of the restaurant. “At least it looks like the worst of the rain is over.”
He turned his attention back to Maggie. “I am sorry about all the turmoil Christian’s death caused for you. If there are any repercussions—for the co-op or you personally—call me. I’ll take care of anything that needs a lawyer, free of charge. And I’ll find out who his executor is.”
He pulled out a pen and a business card and wrote something on the back of the card before he handed it to her. “That’s my cell number on the back.” He looked from Maggie to me. “Enjoy your lunch,” he said and then he turned and went back to his own table.
“I have a question,” I said as we sat down. Claire was already on her way over with menus. We ordered and Claire poured me a cup of coffee, then she headed for the kitchen, detouring to top up Peter’s cup.
“What’s your question?” Maggie asked as I added cream to my coffee.
“Peter said that Christian Ellis was his first solo case.”
She nodded, pouring tea into a cup from the little pot Claire had brought her.
“That case would have been five or six years ago. How long has he been a lawyer?”
“Here in town? About four years or so. Peter worked in Chicago for about a year before that. The time frame fits.”
“He didn’t go to law school right away,” I said, sipping my coffee.
Maggie looked in the direction of the lawyer’s table. “Peter didn’t go to university right away. He didn’t even finish high school.”
“Seriously?” Peter Lundgren was so well spoken I never would have guessed he’d quit school. Being at the library and seeing what books people read, what music they liked to listen to, and what movies they were watching gave me a little peek into who they were. And often left me even more curious. For example, I’d learned that Peter liked heavy metal music, which didn’t exactly fit with my image of a lawyer.
“He’s literally a self-made man. There were ten kids in that family. Poor as dust. Peter quit school in ninth grade, went to work at a garage. Eventually he became a mechanic.”
She picked up her cup. “You’ll like this: he all but lived at the library in his free time. Eventually he got his GED. Then he got a scholarship to university. He did four years in three and got accepted to law school and he’s helping three”—she held up the corresponding number of fingers—“three of his younger siblings with college right now.”
“I guess it makes sense that he’d go to bat for Jaeger.”
Maggie gave me a half smile. “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Claire came back then with our sandwiches and more coffee and we stopped talking. I’d almost finished my sandwich—as usual Eric’s sourdough bread was better than any I made—when Sam Ingstrom, Mayville Heights’s mayor came in. He raised a hand in recognition to us and crossed to the counter. After he’d spoken to Claire he came over to the table.
“Hello Kathleen, Maggie,” he said. Sam didn’t look like a man who was almost seventy. He was heavier than he’d been in that high school photo I’d seen, but he was in good shape and there was still some dark hair mixed in with the gray.
“Hello, Sam,” I said. Maggie, whose mouth was full, just nodded.
“You know that the street’s clear and the library can reopen tomorrow?”
“I do,” I said. “Thank you.”
He studied my face and frowned. “I heard what happened at Wisteria Hill,” he said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “It looks worse than it is.” I seemed to be saying that a lot.
“Glad to hear it,” Sam said.
“You were friends with Tom Karlsson and Pearl Carver weren’t you, back in high school?”
He shook his head. “No. I mean I knew Tom, Mayville Heights was pretty small back in those days, so we all knew each other at school, and he was a star athlete, but we weren’t friends. I was a year younger. I barely knew Pearl at all.”
Sam wore his own high school class ring on his right hand. I noticed he was rubbing the back of it with his thumb.
“I was surprised to hear those remains turned out to be Tom Karlsson,” Sam continued. “Everyone always figured he just ran out on his responsibilities. He was that kind of man.” He half turned. Claire had just come from the kitchen with what was likely Sam’s order in a take-out bag. He gave me his politician’s smile. “Good to see you, Kathleen,” he said. He nodded at Maggie and walked back to the counter.
I was so intent on watching Sam that I didn’t notice for a minute that Maggie was watching me. “You have that look,” she said.
I turned my attention to her. “What look?”
“That ‘something’s off’ look.” She set down her cup and pushed her plate away. “Sam said something that didn’t sit right with you.”
I leaned back in my chair, thinking of the photo I’d seen in that accordion file of old high school yearbook photos at the library. “He said he barely knew Pearl, which isn’t true. Why would he lie about that?”
17
“What makes you think Sam’s lying?” Maggie asked, gesturing to Claire for our checks. “You didn’t want dessert, did you?”
I shook my head. “I found the high school yearbook for the year Roma’s father graduated. There are a bunch of pictures that didn’t make it into the book, mostly candid shots. Sam’s in one of them, so is Pearl and some other girls. It’s pretty clear from the way Sam is looking at Pearl that he had a thing for her.”
“That’s probably the reason,” Maggie said, getting to her feet as Claire approached the table.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I think I told you that I was a little late discovering boys.”
“You did.” I smiled at Claire as I pulled out my wallet.
“Did you want a cup of coffee to go?” she asked as she handed over my bill.
“I did,” I said. I looked at the cardboard take-out cup she was holding. “Is that for me?”
“It is,” she said with a smile.
I took the coffee and gave her the money for my meal plus a tip because Claire always gave great service.
“I heard about Jaeger,” she said to Maggie. “I’m sorry.” She looked past us, out the front window of the restaurant where the sky looked a little lighter than it had earlier. “Maybe it’s finally stopped raining and things can get back to normal.” She turned back to us again. “Have a good day,” she said and then she turned and headed back to the counter.