I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just nodded. “The second time I went to see him I had the letter with me but Leo obviously had something on his mind. He was distracted. He looked at his watch a couple of times and then he apologized. He said he was waiting for a phone call. I told him we could get together another time. I was at the door when his cell phone rang. He asked the person on the other end to hold on and then he said he’d call me in a day or two and we could have lunch. I left. That was the day he died.”
She sighed. “This is my long-winded way of saying that I never did show Leo the letter. I’d be happy to let Simon read what his mother wrote but I don’t want to cause him any more grief than he already has to deal with.”
“What are you asking?” I said.
“I know this is a lot to ask when you don’t know me, but would you be willing to read the letter and tell me if I should show it to Simon?”
I smoothed a hand back over my hair. “I don’t think I’m qualified to make that decision for Simon,” I said.
“I understand,” she said.
“I think you should get in touch with him. You could tell him what it says in general terms, then he could decide if he wanted to read it himself.”
She nodded. “That’s a good idea.” She glanced at her watch. “I should be able to make it to the library tomorrow or Tuesday.”
I glanced around again and still couldn’t see Marcus. “Celia, do you mind if I ask if you’ve spoken to the police?”
Her eyes narrowed and she looked puzzled. “No. Why would I talk to the police?”
“Because you’re one of the last people Leo saw the night he died.”
For a moment she didn’t say anything and she seemed focused on something beyond me. Then her attention came back to me. “I assumed Leo had a heart attack, but that’s not what happened, is it? Somebody . . . Leo didn’t die of natural causes, did he?”
The fact that Leo Janes had been murdered wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t common knowledge yet, either. Surprising, because that sort of news usually made it around town pretty quickly.
“The police are still looking into that,” I said. “You might know something that can help them and not realize it.”
Celia nodded. “Of course. I’ll go to the police station first thing in the morning.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m glad you came to speak to me,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”
She turned and headed toward the street. I walked back to Maggie, who had two boxes of frames at her feet and was just getting some money from the stall owner. She turned to me, smiled and handed me a ten-dollar bill. “Two boxes for thirty dollars,” she said, “and I think I could have gotten him down a little more. No one is lining up to buy these.”
She bent down and picked up one of the boxes and I got the other. “Guy who owns the stall doesn’t have to drag these two boxes home and I saved a little money—everyone is a little happy and a little had.”
I smiled at the expression. I’d heard Burtis use it before. Brady’s father had several small businesses, most of which were legal. No matter what Maggie said about her relationship with Brady Chapman, I knew they were becoming important parts of each other’s lives.
“Did you find anything interesting?” she asked.
“In a way, yes,” I said, thinking about my conversation with Celia Hunter.
She glanced over at me. “You didn’t buy anything?”
“It wasn’t that kind of interesting.”
Maggie shrugged. She was probably the only person I knew who would accept that kind of an answer.
“If we can find Brady I can get his keys and put these in his truck,” she said.
“Do you know where that arcade game was?” I asked. The box of frames was heavier than it looked.
Maggie stopped, took a couple of steps to the side to get out of people’s way and looked around. Her green eyes narrowed and her mouth moved as she muttered to herself. “Over there,” she said, “just to the left of the place with the copper birdbaths.”
We headed across the parking lot and suddenly I caught sight of Brady. He was shaking hands with someone I didn’t recognize. “Mags, I see Brady,” I said. “I think he bought the PAC-MAN game.”
“I knew he would,” she said. “You should have seen his face when he first saw it.” She smiled. “He has the money, and how often can you buy happiness?”
I pretended to think about the question. “That depends on how often Eric has chocolate pudding cake on the menu.”
She laughed. “Okay, so some of us can buy it more easily than others.”
Brady had bought the arcade PAC-MAN machine. He and Marcus had grabbed Larry Taylor, who happened to be walking by, and the three of them got the game loaded onto Brady’s truck, strapped in with some bungee cords of Larry’s.
“We’ll take these boxes,” Marcus said, taking the carton from Maggie’s arms. “Where do you want them? Home or at Riverarts?”
“Thank you,” Mags said. “Studio, please.”
We followed Brady’s truck over to the former school and put the two boxes of frames up in her studio.
“Do you need some help to get that thing off the truck?” Marcus asked Brady when we were back on the street again.
Brady shook his head. “There will be lots of bodies at the house—that’s where I’m taking it.”
Maggie told me she’d call me in the morning to set up a time to start measuring some of the photos.
“Thanks for taking this project on,” I said, giving her a hug.
“I’m excited about it,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
Marcus headed up the hill. I replayed the conversation with Celia Hunter in my head. I was so focused on my thoughts I didn’t realize he’d spoken to me.
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“Do you have Leo Janes’s cell phone?”
“Yes,” Marcus said, his eyes darting sideways at me briefly.
I remembered what Celia had said about Leo getting a call on his cell just as she was leaving the apartment. “Did he get a phone call a short time before he died?”
“I can’t tell you that, Kathleen,” he said, his expression and voice shifting into what I called “cop mode.”
“Did the person Leo spoke to tell you that someone was leaving his apartment at the time of the call?”
Marcus put on his blinker and pulled over to the curb. He put the SUV in park and turned to me. “You know something. What is it?”
“When Mia and I got to the building that night I saw a silk scarf on the walkway. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I thought it was Rebecca’s. It wasn’t, she just has one that’s very similar.”
He nodded.
“Later, I realized the first time I’d gone over to Rebecca’s I’d passed a woman coming out of the building and she was wearing the scarf.” I held up a hand. “I know this doesn’t make much sense.”
He folded his arms over his chest and shifted a little in his seat. “Keep going,” he said.
“I saw her, while Maggie was looking at those picture frames. I went and spoke to her. Her name is Celia Hunter. She was a friend of Leo’s wife. She was with Leo not long before he died.”
He pulled one hand over his mouth. “Why didn’t she get in touch with us when she heard he was dead?”
I reached over and brushed a bit of dried leaf from his sleeve.
“She said she didn’t think it was important. Remember, not everyone knows Leo was murdered. And by the way, how did you get Bridget to sit on that?”
“It wasn’t me,” Marcus said. “I think the prosecuting attorney made some kind of deal with her.”
“I told Celia she needed to talk to you and she said she’d come to the station in the morning.”