“I saw him,” I said. “I wanted to ask you something.” I held out the orange propeller. “Is this yours?”
Her face flooded with color. “I, umm, I don’t know,” she said. She couldn’t quite keep her eyes on mine.
“It’s a propeller,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it’s for a drone.” I gestured at her backpack still lying on the wooden gazebo seat. “I’m sorry, I think Owen took it.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Are you going to tell my dad?”
“Mariah, have you been following cars out on the highway and down by the marina with it?”
“A few . . . maybe,” she said.
“That’s really dangerous.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not, because I didn’t do it when there was a lot of traffic and I didn’t get that close to the cars.”
“But you were a distraction,” I said, moving my hands around in frustration. “Those drivers were all paying attention to your drone, not the road. Someone could have been hurt.”
She swallowed hard. “I never thought about that.”
“What were you doing anyway?”
“I’m making a movie for my media studies class. There’s a camera attached to the drone.”
I suddenly knew why Mariah hadn’t mentioned the power was off at the library. “You were out filming the other night when I had supper with your dad and your grandfather. You weren’t at the library.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t.”
“How many other times?”
She listed off five other days.
“Where exactly were you filming?” I asked, an idea buzzing in the back of my brain.
“One time I was down by the marina. The others I was on the highway.” She wrapped her arms around her body, hugging herself. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
I nodded. “I’m pretty sure you are, but it might not be as bad as you think.”
When Harry came back Mariah confessed what she’d been doing. She didn’t make any excuses. Harry pulled off his Twins caps and smoothed a hand over his scalp. “You could have caused an accident,” he said. “What were you thinking? Somebody could have been hurt. Somebody could have been killed.”
“I know,” she said in a small voice, swallowing back tears that were threatening to fall.
“Mariah might be able to help someone with that footage she shot,” I said.
Harry looked at me, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
I explained about Simon driving around the night his father had been killed. “Mariah was flying her drone, filming up on the highway that night. I know it’s a long shot, but she might have filmed Simon’s car. She might be able to prove that he had nothing to do with Leo’s death.”
Harry looked at his daughter. “Do you have all the stuff you filmed?”
She nodded. “On my computer.”
He turned to me. “Kathleen, would you call Marcus and see if he can meet us at the police station in”—he looked at his watch—“about forty-five minutes?”
“I will,” I said.
“Let’s get things cleaned up here,” he said to his daughter. “Then we’re going home to get your computer.”
A chastened Mariah picked up the broom again. Owen had been sitting on the railing listening to the entire conversation. Now he tipped his head to one side, looked inquiringly at Mariah and meowed softly. “I said you could lie on my backpack, not go through it,” she muttered.
Owen hung his head.
“It’s not your fault,” she said, her expression softening. “It’s mine. I’m going to be grounded for the rest of my life.”
“Or longer,” Harry said darkly.
I picked up Owen and headed home to call Marcus.
• • •
Mary had an expression she’d use when it seemed like everything was going wrong at the library: “Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eats you.” This turned out to be one of those times when we ate the bear. The camera Mariah had attached to the drone produced excellent-quality video, and she was a skilled flyer. About a third of the way through the video she had shot the night Leo was killed she picked up Simon’s car. The time stamp made it clear that he couldn’t have been at the apartment killing his father.
“He’s in the clear,” Marcus said when he called me at the library. “What made you think Mariah might have video of his car in the first place?”
“I remembered Simon saying that he’d seen a drone flying over a field. I figured there was a chance he was on the same stretch of highway where Eddie had been followed. It was a long shot, but it was plausible.”
I was sitting at my desk and I swiveled around so I could see out the window. Watching the water helped me focus my thoughts. “I’m sorry I ruined your case.”
“Hey, don’t apologize,” Marcus said. “I don’t want to arrest an innocent man. I want to catch the person who really killed Leo Janes.”
“Any idea who that might be?” I asked.
Marcus exhaled softly. “I think I’ll just say ‘No comment’ for now.”
We said good-bye and I went downstairs to give Mary a break at the circulation desk. I had a quick meeting with Lita over at Henderson Holdings at two thirty. I told her about Maggie’s idea to frame the photos from the post office for display along with some of the mail that had been found. Maggie was confident that at least some of the recipients would loan whatever card or letter they had received for our exhibit.
“I don’t see why the board would have any problem with you doing that,” Lita said.
“We’re hoping to get the display done early in December,” I said. “We have more people come into the library then anyway.”
Lita and I spent another fifteen minutes on library business and then I bundled up to walk back to the library. The wind off the water was cold and very quickly I began to regret my decision not to bring the truck. When I came level with Eric’s Place I decided to duck inside for a cup of coffee to go.
“I put on a fresh pot,” Claire said. “It’ll just be a couple of minutes.”
“I don’t mind,” I said. I sat on a stool with my back to the counter. I was happy to have a chance to warm my hands. I’d left my gloves back at the library.
The front door of the restaurant opened and Rebecca came in. She smiled and came over to the counter. “I bet you’re on your way back from your meeting with Lita,” she said.
I nodded. “I came in to get warm and get a cup of coffee. I’m just waiting for a new pot.”
“I’m meeting Patricia Queen for tea,” Rebecca said. “I’m hoping she can repair an old quilt that Everett’s mother made.”
Claire came out of the kitchen then. “Would you like a table, Mrs. Henderson?” she asked.
“In just a moment I would,” Rebecca said as she pulled off her gloves.
Claire smiled. “You can have the one in the window if you’d like or any other one along the back wall.”
Rebecca smiled back at her. “Thank you,” she said.
The door opened again and Elias Braeden and two other men came in.
“I’ll just get these customers and then I’ll get your coffee, Kathleen,” Claire said.
“It’s all right,” I said. “Take your time.”
Elias noticed me then. He gave a small smile and a nod of recognition, which I returned.
“Kathleen, who is that?” Rebecca asked, a frown forming between her eyebrows.
“His name is Elias Braeden. He’s here on business. He’s considering buying the Silver Casino.”
“Oh, that explains it,” she said, her expression clearing.
I turned to look at her. “Explains what?”
“Nothing, really,” Rebecca said. “It’s just the day before Leo died I saw him out in front of the house talking to that man. Did you know Leo liked to play blackjack?”
I nodded. “I did.”
“That must be how he knew Mr. Braeden.”
Claire came then with my coffee. Rebecca gave me a hug and headed toward the window table.
I headed out for the library. So Elias had talked to Leo the day before he was killed. Interesting.