Becca’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “When I left the shop, I was sure I saw someone—a man with light hair. Maybe dyed blond. He was acting strange. Lurking, kind of, like he didn’t want to be seen. I followed him down the alley, but then I lost him.”
“Did you tell Gaia?” Tiger attacked his sandwich with renewed fervor.
“I didn’t get a chance to,” Becca confessed. “She was gone when I went back. And then you called, and I remembered that she said you’d been worrying about her. And I thought she said you’d seen someone hanging around too?” She paused, waiting for an answer.
Tiger only laughed, a small, sad laugh.“Gaia,” he said the name softly, more to himself than Becca. “Yeah, I did. But she’s not the type to listen to anyone. Certainly not her ex. And what was I going to say? That I was afraid her new romance was going to get her into trouble?”
“You wanted her to be careful.” Becca repeated the words. “And you didn’t want her seeing her boss’s husband, right? So you didn’t see anyone?”
“I wanted her to be careful. I didn’t expect any of this.” Tiger tilted his head. It wasn’t a nod, exactly, and it wasn’t a shrug. It was an acknowledgment of an awkward situation. Still, as Becca watched her lunch partner’s face, she must have wondered. Clara certainly found herself considering the options. Gaia had already shown herself to be a liar. Might she be covering again? Lying for her former lover? What, after all, did Becca know about this man and his motives? About his strangely spicy scent? Tiger had clearly wanted Gaia to quit seeing Frank. Might he have gone to other lengths? Done something desperate to stop her? Or to shield her from an injured wife’s wrath?
Chapter 17
“I’d really like to talk to Margaret.”
True to her word, Becca had called Maddy to check in after the lunch. But while she did her best to reassure her friend that the meeting had not been a date, she wasn’t able to put her fears entirely to rest. “I know you don’t want me involved in this, Maddy. And I tried to get out of this case—these cases—but I am involved, whether I like it or not. And, well, I know what Tiger said, but something about it just doesn’t sit right. I mean, I don’t see Margaret Cross as a murderer.”
From the way Becca held the phone, Clara could tell that her friend was yelling. While that had to be unpleasant—no cat liked loud noises—she was grateful that Maddy felt protective. And relieved that Becca wasn’t taking the bike messenger’s story at face value.
“Don’t worry! I am going to the cops. I’m on my way now.” Becca was beginning to sound exasperated. “I just wish I could talk to Margaret first. I mean, I knew she was angry. I could almost understand it if she’d lashed out. But would she really have killed him? Have planned it in advance?
“When Tiger said poison, I figured he was simply referring to Gaia’s, uh, incident.” Becca might be addressing her friend, but Clara had the feeling her person was really talking to herself. “But now I’m wondering… There are some poisons that would induce or mimic cardiac arrest. I was reading…”
More yelling stopped that train of thought. But Becca kept walking, even as she appeared to change her approach.“You’re right, Maddy. I’m not going to get involved in what happened to Frank Cross. I’m leaving that to the police. But maybe I’ll just stop into the store first. Because Gaia really ought to be talking to the authorities too, and maybe I can get her to come with me. She and Frank were involved, and she might know something. Maybe she heard him talk about an enemy or someone who had a grudge or something.”
The voice on the other end of the line sounded nominally less frantic. Or maybe, Clara realized, Maddy was simply tired.
“No, I didn’t ask her about money. I’m leaving that to the police, just like you said.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Besides, between you and me, I don’t think he had much of a business. Margaret kind of implied that, too. But still, Gaia might know more than she thinks she knows, if you know what I mean.”
That one almost made Clara stop cold. Becca was beginning to sound as logical as a cat. Only as she caught up with her person did she realize that the young woman hadn’t yet aired all of her concerns.
“There’s more, Maddy. That root? It wasn’t wolf’s bane. It wasn’t anything poisonous at all. Gaia planted it in her own mug to get back at Margaret.” She stopped walking. “I guess that’s all going to come out. I don’t want to get Gaia in trouble with the police. It sounds like it was just a stupid prank. But especially if the cops are now saying that Frank’s death was something other than a heart attack, then they should know. I wish I could give Margaret a heads-up about that. Or her sister. A sister might see things that a wife wouldn’t, and that Elizabeth seems prettysharp to me.”
She paused, and Clara waited. But Becca didn’t bring up the other possibility that she had considered out loud—that Gaia hadn’t put the root in her own mug but knew who had. That Tiger had done it to scare his ex into giving up her new lover, or at least to take his warnings seriously. Clara didn’t know if Becca had taken the bike messenger’s shrugged denial as truth, or if she still suspected him of some complicity. She did know that her person was smarter than her sisters gave her credit for, though, and the implication that she might be protecting the handsome young man for some reason made the loving feline uneasy.
But even as she mulled over this possibility, Becca kept talking.
“Besides, Maddy, I can’t help but wonder, what if Gaia didn’t plant that thing herself? I mean, Gaia admits to having an affair with Frank, so maybe it was a warning, someone trying to scare her. And that could mean she’s in real danger.”
***
Becca picked up her pace after that, heading back into the heart of Central Square, where the Cambridge police had their precinct offices. Clara had accompanied Becca to the red brick building before, and they’d both come out unscathed. Still, the little cat found herself on edge, every whisker alert, as they drew closer. Sure enough, Becca’s pace slowed ever so slightly as they entered the bustling business district. It was only coincidental, Clara told herself, that they were also approaching the block that held both the Cross’s apartment and the magic shop where Gaia worked.
“She’s only thinking that she wants to talk to Gaia again,”the little cat thought.“She wishes she could have gotten her to come talk to the police with her. She told her friend that.”
But even though Clara trusted her person more than Maddy apparently did, Clara couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear as they neared the brick building. After all, Becca had also talked about stopping back at the widow’s apartment and trying to enlist her sister. Clara didn’t relish another encounter with the weird Elizabeth, especially now, when Becca should be handing thiscase over to the police. There was something eerie about that woman, thought the cat. Distracted, she nearly collided with her person as Becca stopped short at the corner.
“Gaia?” The name burst out in surprise. Sure enough, the salesgirl was standing on the sidewalk, one hand pushing her jet-black hair back from her face. From the looks of her eyeliner, she’d been crying. “I was going to stop by the store—”
“Good thing you didn’t.” She turned away, as if to wipe her face. Then, with a defiant toss of her head, she grabbed Becca by the arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Why? What happened?” Becca resisted, looking back toward the glass storefront with its colorful symbols. The skulking figure from before was nowhere in sight, but Gaia acted like she was in a hurry, pulling at her as she began to walk quickly away.
“I’ve been fired. That’s what. At least, I think I have.” She mugged, trying to smile. Only it didn’t quite take. After they’d crossed the street, retracing Becca’s steps, the goth girl slowed her stride and let her head hang down.