I started for the truck when I realized that Charles was ahead of me, headed in the same direction. I caught up with him at the curb.
“We need to talk,” I said.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I figured this was coming.” He gestured at the grass. “You wanna walk?”
I nodded and we started walking away from the building that housed the set.
“I saw you talking to Elias yesterday,” Charles said.
“When you told me that Elias warned you not to tell anyone that you slept with Kassie, why didn’t you tell me the two of you stood on the street and argued where anyone could have heard you?”
“Duh! Because it doesn’t make him look good.”
“Him shoving you doesn’t make him look good?” I said. “That’s what you were worried about?”
Charles held up a hand. “First of all, I may have been a crappy boxer but I still could have laid the dude out right there if I’d wanted to. But I didn’t and I wouldn’t. Like I told you before, I learned my lesson about getting physical with people. I let him shove me like that to let off a little steam. And second, like I said, it doesn’t look good for Elias to be putting his hands on me and saying he’ll take care of things and then a couple of hours later, Kassie is dead. I know how the police think.”
I exhaled loudly. “Well, it looks worse when the information comes from a witness who heard the two of you instead of from Elias or you.”
“Look,” he said. “I just don’t think he killed her. I really don’t. And the guy’s been good to me. I wasn’t going to hang him out to dry.”
Charles just didn’t seem to see he hadn’t made things better.
“You also didn’t tell me that you used to box in Chicago.”
At least this time he had the good grace to blush. “Where Kassie’s father had a gym. Yeah, I probably should have said something about that. I only knew the guy by reputation, which was enough, believe me. I swear, though, I didn’t know Kassie was his kid at first. Do you think I would have slept with her if I had? Jeez, I don’t have a death wish.”
I kicked a rock and sent it bouncing along the ground in front of me. “When did you find out who she was?”
“Elias told me when I told him about the two of us hooking up.”
I had no reason to disbelieve him but I wasn’t sure I should believe him, either. Not that it really mattered. “How did you get down to Eric’s the night of the murder?” I asked.
“I drove down with some of the crew, Norman and a couple of the camera guys.”
The last piece slid into place. “Well, unless you happen to be some sort of sprinter, you have an alibi for Kassie’s murder.”
Charles grinned and patted his ample midsection. “The only time I run is for free donuts.”
“So why didn’t you say where you were from the beginning?”
“What does it matter?” he said. “You know, and I assume you’ll tell your boyfriend so the police will know. And anyway, I’m not even a suspect.”
I was pretty sure Fred the Funky Chicken would have been able to tell he was hiding something. “Oh, humor me,” I said.
His mouth moved but no words came out.
There was a bit of a breeze and the wind lifted my hair. I pushed it away from my face. “Charles, I hope you don’t play cards,” I said.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“Because you can’t bluff to save your life. Tell me why you didn’t mention you had an alibi or I’m going to think there’s a reason you don’t want everyone to know you were helping wait tables at the café.”
His gaze slipped away from mine.
I stopped walking. “Wait a minute. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“No,” he said. He really wasn’t a very good liar. A lot of people weren’t.
I just stood there looking at him.
Charles swiped a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. I didn’t tell you because I was trying to downplay the whole thing.”
“Because?” I prompted.
“Because I’ve been watching you. Sometimes you’re too smart for your own good.”
I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or a criticism.
“I was afraid you’d figure out what I was really trying to do that night,” he said.
“Which was?”
He shook his head. “I was trying to get into the kitchen, okay? I wanted to find out what Eric’s secret ingredient is in that chocolate pudding cake. Dessert Week is coming up.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “You were going to steal Eric’s recipe? You’ve got to be kidding. You couldn’t have fooled anyone. Every single person in Mayville Heights has eaten that pudding cake. More than once.”
“I wasn’t trying to steal anything,” Charles said, his jaw clenched. “I just wanted to know what his secret was so I could make a couple of adjustments to my lava cake recipe. No harm, no foul.”
I sighed. “There is no secret ingredient, unless it’s the fact that Eric puts his heart into every recipe he creates.” I had liked Charles up to now, but suddenly I wasn’t so sure how I felt about him.
He was shaking his head again before I finished speaking. “I’m an ex-con, Kathleen. I’m not like Caroline, making healthy versions of comfort food for her five kids. Or like Rebecca, using recipes that go back three or four generations. I was raised by a single mother who was also raised by a single mother. Neither one of them knew how to cook.”
“No one is asking you to be Rebecca or Caroline or anyone else,” I said. “Be who you are. For all you know there will be someone watching who will get inspired by you.” I looked at him for a long moment and then I turned and walked away.
I drove home and had a late supper with Owen and Hercules. I had left chicken soup in the slow cooker and the delicious smell filled the kitchen. After I’d eaten and the boys had given me their most mournful looks, Hercules decided to go out into the porch and stare out the window—maybe looking for his grackle nemesis. Owen decided to stay in the kitchen and do everything possible to get in my way.
The phone rang as I was finishing the dishes. It was Marcus. “Hi,” he said. “I just wanted you to know that I’m having dinner with a couple of the guys from the workshop and then we’re heading back.”
“I miss you,” I said. “Drive safely.”
“I will,” he promised. “Did Lucy and the other cats like their new place?”
I explained how well things had gone that morning. Then I told Marcus how I had discovered that Charles had an alibi. I realized from his response that he already knew.
We said good-bye and I set my phone on the counter. I finished the dishes and tidied the kitchen. Then I got out the envelope that Eugenie had given me on Saturday.
I spread the papers across the table, deciding that I would sort things into three piles: one for Peggy, one for Eugenie and one for anything I was unsure about. Everything else could be recycled. I was just getting started when my phone rang again. It was Roma. I had called her during the afternoon to check on the cats—who seemed to be adjusting well. She had said she’d call me after supper.
“Smokey went back to the carriage house maybe an hour ago,” she said. “Which made me a little anxious, but Eddie saw him return to the cat house about five minutes ago. I think that’s a good sign.”
“Number one, you have to come up with a better name than ‘cat house’ for their new home. And number two, has Eddie been out in the yard watching the cats all day?” I asked.
“No,” she said, somewhat indignantly. There was a brief hesitation. “He’s been watching from the porch. With binoculars.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Roma, that man loves you to the moon and back.”
I pictured the goofy smile she got on her face whenever the conversation turned to Eddie. “I know,” she said.
I told Roma if she needed me in the morning to call. “I’ll be up. Owen thinks if he’s up, everyone should be up.”