“You’ve got a good eye.” He tilted his head, looking rather like Laurel as he took her in. “Yeah, my boss is old school. But, hey,” he said, unclipping the device and tucking it into his pocket, “like I said, I’m not working.”
Becca inhaled, and Clara looked up in anticipation, not knowing if Becca had another question or was simply going to respond. But Tiger had already reached for the coffeehouse door, which he pulled open.“After you.”
“Thanks,” she said, even as Clara waited for more, and led the way to a butcher block table in the corner.
“Not a date.”Clara repeated Becca’s words, hoping to impress them back on her person.
The corner table offered a modicum of privacy, the better to discuss the case. Clara didn’t need any of Laurel’s powers to follow her person’s reasoning. But Clara had also seen her color rise as she walked by Tiger. The bike messenger was handsome in an outlaw way, with that dramatic dark hair and long, lean muscles sculpted by hours on the bike.
“Just a conversation,” the little cat murmured from the shadows as they placed their orders—a turkey sandwich for Becca, a veggie wrap for Tiger. Even as she settled in to observe while they ate, Clara found herself once again wishing that she had more of Laurel’s particular power.
“I wanted to talk because I gather you’re worried about Gaia.” Maybe it was simply that her part-Siamese sister was on her mind. Maybe it was the blue eyes, but as the bike messenger ferried their sandwiches over from the counter, it occurred to Clara that he really did look like Laurel. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head as he waited, silently, for her to continue. “Do you think she’s in danger? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but she and I were talking.”
A nod.“She told you what’s going on?” He raised his brows.
“She said that you two still talk…” This time, there was no mistaking the question behind Becca’s pause.
“Well, yeah.” The man sitting opposite her shrugged. “We’re friends.”
“I know how hard it is to stay friends with an ex.”
The deep sigh that followed turned into a chuckle.“Tell me about it,” he said, the relief giving his deep voice a lift. Then, seeing Becca’s wide-eyed response, he caught himself. “You don’t have to. I mean, I’m just glad you understand.”
“I do.” Becca lowered her eyes as Clara scrambled to her feet. There was nothing the little cat could do. Not here, where she was, for all intents and purposes, invisible, and suddenly appearing would only distress her person. Still, she couldn’t resist reaching up with one paw. Maybe she should touch her person. Distract her from the intense young man facing her. If she only reached out…
For a moment, Clara wondered if perhaps her ardent desire was enough. Or perhaps, she told herself, Becca had more resolve than her pet gave her credit for. Because, after taking a deep breath, Becca dove in.“Anyway, I am kind of still working with her, and I’m hoping you can share why you’re still worried about her.”
“Well, just because we broke up doesn’t mean…” He shrugged as he took a bite of his veggie wrap.
“No, I’m sorry. I meant if you had specific reasons to be concerned.” Becca leaned in, her own sandwich forgotten. “I’d like to know what they are.”
Silence while he chewed and took another bite.
“She said you saw someone hanging around?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head even as he tore into the wrap. “I don’t know if I should be talking about this.”
“If it helps, I think you may be on to something.” Becca spoke softly, although Clara’s sensitive ears had no trouble picking up the intensity of her tone. “And it worries me, because I don’t think Gaia is taking your concerns seriously.” No response. “I’ve heard that maybe Frank Cross didn’t die from natural causes.”
That got his attention.“Like an accident, or that he was killed?”
Becca shrugged.“There were an awful lot of cops around for what was supposed to be simply a medical emergency.” Her voice dropped to near a whisper. “Someone told me that Margaret Cross was taken in for questioning.”
Tiger leaned in with a speed that set Clara’s fur on edge. “You think she’s a suspect?”
To her pet’s relief, Becca sat back in her own chair, considering. “I don’t know,” she said, her focus on something Clara couldn’t see. “I wish I understood what was going on better. I don’t see Mrs. Cross as a…a dangerous person.”
“She might have had motive.” Tiger’s words got her attention back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to say anything, but, well, it’s true.”
“I think I may know what you’re talking about.” Becca bit her lip. “But please, tell me what you mean.”
Now it was Tiger’s turn to stare off into space, as if he were gathering courage from the list of coffees available. When he turned back, he seemed to have made a resolution. “Frank was having a fling with Gaia.” He stated this as fact, although Clara knew how much this could hurt a human. “That wasn’t why we broke up,” he was quick to add, almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I mean, we were never that serious. But this thing with Frank? Well, I think he was kind of obsessed with her.”
“And you know this…how?” Clara could have leaped into her person’s lap and begun to knead, she was so happy. Becca’s question showed that she was being smartand careful.
Tiger dropped his gaze, but he didn’t seem to see the remainder of his lunch. “I’m not a stalker, okay? But my boss has had a lot of deliveries for Mr. Cross recently. I’ve been down at that car lot of his a fair amount, as well as around here most days. So I see when someone keeps showing up.”
Becca gestured for him to continue, waiting.
“And I heard some of the fights he had with his wife.” Tiger was talking to the table, one long finger tracing the wood grain. “‘Margaret, cut it out! Margaret, please stop!’ I heard him yell that a lot. And he wouldn’t think to protect himself from her.”
“So you think Margaret might have hurt him?” The words came slowly, as if Becca were trying them out.
Tiger shrugged.“Maybe.”
“But I thought they were making up. I heard him on the phone with her the day he died. He started off by telling her she was wrong, that she should calm down and everything. But I think he was basically apologizing.”
He shook his head slowly, his blue eyes sad.“I don’t know,” he said. “I mean, I don’t want to think it was anyone. But you said that word is his heart attack was suspicious, right? Well, they do say that poison is a woman’s weapon.”
Becca recoiled, and then broke out into laughter.“Sorry,” she said as he stared, his handsome face blank. “I thought maybe you were in on it.”
“Excuse me?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Gaia.” Becca sighed and shook her head. “She shouldn’t have, but it didn’t go anywhere. Maybe I’m not such a bad detective after all.”
“I’m still missing something here.”
“Gaia’s case. The reason she wanted to hire me. The poison in her mug.” Faced with Tiger’s baffled stare, she explained about the root and how her coven identified it as asafetida, as well as her friends’ suggestion that her ex-boyfriend might have played a role. “Even when she confessed, I wondered if maybe she was covering—covering for you. You know, if you’d wanted to scare her. And so when you said poison…I’m sorry.” Becca was trying to dig herself out. “In conclusion, it was stupid, but it was harmless.”
“Ah.” Now it was his turn to chuckle, and he picked up his sandwich again. “Yeah, that sounds like Gaia, all right.”
“Anyway, I know she was hoping to frame Margaret—and I’m not saying Margaret doesn’t have reason to be angry. But I’m more concerned about someone else.”
“Someone else?” Tiger leaned forward. For a moment, Clara thought he was going to reach for her, and she strained to see over the edge of the tabletop.