“I’m sorry.” He pushed the hair off his face, revealing his bunched brows. “This is all just so much. He was…it was all very fast.”
“I gather he heard my voice messages or saw my number on her phone…”
“Yeah, I was just so flustered. The paramedics had just taken her.” He strained to see behind him, but the door was still closed. “I had to follow, and I just got here.”
“You might be able to go in.” Becca felt for him. That much was clear. “You should go ask.”
He sighed and gave something between a nod and a shrug. “I’m just hoping….” He licked dry, chapped lips and then, perhaps distracted by the noise of the room, turned back toward Becca. “I’m sorry. You said you learned something? Something about Gaia?”
“Yeah.” Becca agreed. “Elizabeth has it out for her, all right. You know she fired Gaia, and she made her get rid of her plant. And she had those shears… But I don’t think either Elizabeth or Margaret could be behind this.”
“What are you talking about? What shears? Who else could it be?” As Tiger spoke, his voice rose, and Clara became aware of several bystanders turning to stare. “You’ve got to tell the cop that!”
Becca stepped back, one hand reaching up to her lapis pendant. “I think Elizabeth was telling me the truth. She was angry. Her sister’s devastated, but they’re not killers.”
“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry.” Tiger reached out, touching Becca’s arm with his fingertips. “I’m upset. That’s all.”
“Of course you are.” Becca didn’t draw back, not immediately, but she didn’t sound convinced either. Instead, she raised her hand to her pendant, shedding his fingers along the way.
“I just…” The pale young man craned around, as if suddenly aware that he was the center of attention. “I wish we had more information, you know? I guess I was hoping that, with you being a detective, that you could, maybe, find out more.”
“I have been speaking to people.” Becca sat back, stung. “I ask questions.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I did find out the truth about the asafetida.”
“Of course.” Tiger reached to take her hand. “I’m sorry. I mean, I guess I always thought of detectives as people who looked for physical clues.”
“I do that, too.” A bit stiff.
“No, please, I understand.” A shake of the head. “I would never expect you to put yourself at risk by sneaking into someplace or anything like that. That’s not the kind of detective you are.”
“How dare you! You’re talking like I’m some timid bookworm rather than a woman of power.” Becca pulled herself up to her full five-six. Towering to her pets, but surely not to this tall, muscular young man. And yet, he appeared to back down.
“I’m sorry.” He even stared down at the ground like a submissive kitten. “I shouldn’t push. I guess I’m worried. I feel guilty, okay? Gaia and I are through, but I still care for her, of course. Only, I think maybe she thought we could be more again. Now that…well, you know.”
“You mean, now that Frank is out of the picture.”
A half-hearted smile said it all.
“That’s kind of a quick turnaround.” Becca bit her lip against the sharpness of her rebuke, but the words were already out.
“I didn’t mean that she had no feelings for him. I know she did.” His voice had gotten quiet again. Clara was reminded of Laurel’s attempts to modulate her Siamese yowl when she was trying to get treats from Becca. “I think turning back to me was more about comfort and familiarity. She was really shaken up by everything that happened.”
“I get it. It has been a lot.” Becca’s eyes strayed, recalling the week before. “Her boss turning against her, then Frank, and getting fired.”
“Exactly, and, well, there’s something else.” As his voice grew quieter, Tiger stepped forward and slid his hands down so that his fingertips gently cupped hers. “I know you two are friends, and I respect that.”
Becca started to speak. Clara thought she was going to argue with that definition of her relationship with the goth girl. But—maybe it was because of the way Tiger’s long fingers were gently stroking hers, maybe it was a furball—only a choking sound came out.
“And, like I said, I still care about her. As a friend. And so I wanted to be honest with her and tell her first. That’s why I went to see her today. Becca, I know this has all been very sudden, but I feel there’s something here. Something between us. Don’t you?”
Chapter 24
Becca’s eyes went as round as Harriet’s. But before she could respond in a more articulate manner, a short shriek caused her to spin around, and the ensuing clatter had everyone in the waiting area rushing over. Ducking through the crowd, Clara could see white shoes and legs clad in lime green scrubs splayed on the floor.
“Are you all right?” A large hand appeared.
“Careful.” Another set of scrubs pushed by. “What happened here? Do you feel lightheaded or dizzy?”
“What? No.” The woman on the floor, a slight thing who seemed more surprised than hurt, waved off the outstretched hand. Instead, she flipped onto her knees, the better to gather the various surgical tools that had emptied out all over the floor. Clara leaned forward to sniff at a small clamp. Disinfectant, rather than blood, she noted with relief.
“I thought I saw…never mind.” Green scrubs turned to reach for the clamp. Clara ducked back, holding her breath as the orderly, her voice lowered to be nearly inaudible, explained to her colleague, “Dale, I thought I saw something scurry by me. You know, like a rat.”
“A rat?” The distinctive yowl made Clara spin around. Sure enough, two blue eyes were staring from beneath one of the chairs.
“Hush!” The calico raced over to join her sister, crowding in beneath the orange plastic seat.
“These people.” Even though Laurel’s body was nearly shaded, Clara could make out the toss of her apple-shaped head, the blue eyes closing briefly in disgust. “They’re all listening to those machines. They wouldn’t hear me if I sat up and caterwauled.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Clara knew it made more sense to humor her sister than to argue. “But, Laurel, why are you here?”
“Because of Tiger, of course.” The blue eyes were momentarily veiled as Laurel dipped her head. “I knew he would come after Becca and I wanted to see what would happen.”
“You wanted to influence her.” The words slipped out, as the truth will. “Laurel, we don’t know this man.”
“We know he likes her.” Even muted, Laurel’s voice rose in that distinctive Siamese yowl. “You heard what he just said.”
Clara didn’t respond. Instead, she turned to look out at Becca. On her knees only feet away, she was reaching for a small silver object she must have fished out from underneath the couch. As Clara watched, she stood, handing the metal tool to the orderly, and Clara couldn’t suppress a slight purr. Her person was always helping others.
“That’s why I want what’s best for her, too.” Laurel’s voice, softer now, broke into Clara’s reverie. “I know you love her. We all do. But, little sister, believe it or not, hanging out with us is not the way she should spend her life.”
“I know.” Clara sighed, her purr dying away. “If only we knew this Tiger better.”
“Well, now’s our chance.”
Clara felt a damp nudge as Laurel nosed her ear. She turned to look at the young man, who had hung back even as Becca had raced forward, his pale face unreadable. Was that rejection, Clara wondered? Or was he simply unsure how to approach the woman he had just bared his soul to? A quick sniff might answer some questions, Clara realized. But as she started toward him, another familiar voice boomed out and sent her scurrying under the nearest chair.