We didn’t talk at all during the first set, although more than once Nick’s eyes met mine when we were both singing along with the music.
Finally Sam said, “Thank you very much. We’re going to take a little break and we’ll be back.”
The noise level in the pub immediately rose. Nick pushed back his chair and looked around for our waiter.
Jess leaned forward and caught my eye. “So when are you going to start work on the new apartment?” she asked.
“As soon as I get the building permit,” I said, grabbing the last tortilla chip from the basket.
“You mean the place Rose is going to move into?” Nick asked. He caught the eye of our waiter and pointed to the table. “Mom told me,” he added.
“No, she’s adding an apartment over the shop,” Jess said. “Mac’s going to live there.”
“You’re not serious?” Nick said. Even though Jess had been talking, he was looking at me.
“I am,” I said. “Do you have a problem with Mac?”
Nick wiped a hand across his chin. “No,” he said, but I noticed it had taken just a little bit longer than it should have for the response. “But make sure you get Josh Evans to draw up a rental agreement, you know, just to be on the safe side.”
He got to his feet. “Excuse me a second. I see someone I need to talk to.”
“Somebody’s jealous,” Jess said in a singsong voice.
I made a snort of annoyance. “More like somebody stays in touch with Liam and when my brother’s not around starts acting like him.”
“How is Liam?” Jess asked. She picked up the empty salsa dish, sighed softly and set it back down.
“He’s good,” I said. “Busy. He had dinner with Mom and Dad on Sunday, and Mom said he may be in town soon, something about a project he’s going to consult on.” I reached for my cup and drank the last of my coffee. “That reminds me, what’s the status of North Landing?”
Jess made a face. “I’ll know more tomorrow. There’s a meeting scheduled for six thirty.”
“Any idea what’s going to happen?”
She shook her head. “Not a clue.”
Over by the stage I spotted Vince Kennedy talking to Asia. Jess followed my gaze. “If it all falls through, it isn’t going to be good for Vince,” she said.
“Liz, either,” I said.
“Not to mention Jon West himself,” Jess added. “You think he killed her?”
I knew she meant Lily. “No,” I said, turning my empty cup in a circle on the table.
“Why so sure?”
“He just doesn’t strike me as the type.”
She frowned. “Wait a minute. Don’t tell me. Elvis didn’t do that thing he does when people are lying, did he?”
“Maybe,” I hedged.
“Well, good for our little feline Sherlock Holmes,” she said with a grin. “You know, just because it wasn’t Jon West who killed Lily doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been someone connected to the development.”
Adam brought more nachos and salsa to the table. I thanked him while Jess grabbed a chip.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Jon West has investors,” she said around a mouthful of a lot of salsa and a little chip.
“Like?” I reached for a chip before Jess got them all.
“I don’t have a clue,” she said. “But rumor has it whoever they are, they have enough influence that the bakery property will just be expropriated if Caroline doesn’t sell to Jon West.”
I remembered West saying he could get the land by expropriation. At the time I’d thought he was bluffing to get Rose off his case.
“So who could do that?” I said.
Jess shrugged. “I don’t know, but whoever it is, they’re walking around in big shoes.”
Chapter 14
After the band’s last song of the night, Sam made his way over to me, still carrying his guitar.
“I have a couple of boxes for you in my office,” he said as he reached the table. “You’re really going to let Liz’s granddaughter re-create a seventies hair band in your front window for Valentine’s Day?” he said with a smile.
“C’mon, where’s your sense of romance?” I teased.
He laughed.
“Is it all right if I pick them up in the morning?” I asked. “I didn’t bring the SUV.”
“Sure,” he said.
“Glenn McNamara told me you stepped in to help fill Lily’s place in the hot-lunch program,” I said. “Thank you.”
“It’s no big deal,” he said with a shrug.
“It is to the kids,” I said.
“How’s the detective business?” Sam asked with a sly smile.
“You heard?”
He nodded. “Eric’s art class came for supper last night. Alfred Peterson was with them.” He leaned in a little closer. “Are he and Rose a couple?”
“They’re seeing each other,” I said, pushing my hair back from my face. “I’ve kind of been afraid to ask exactly how much of each other they’ve seen, if you know what I mean.”
Sam’s smile got a bit wider. “Hey, love’s grand at any age.”
Vince Kennedy had been working his way over to us. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. He looked at Sam. “They need you in the kitchen.”
Sam made a face. “Please tell me it’s not the bread slicer again.”
Vince shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know.”
Sam handed him the guitar. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said to me, and headed toward the kitchen.
Vince turned to me. He’d trimmed his gray-streaked beard into a goatee and he was wearing his hair a little shorter. It made him look a little younger, although I could see worry lines around his brown eyes.
Vince was a tall, wiry man who never seemed to be completely still. His hands or his feet were always moving. I sometimes wondered if he was keeping time to a song only he could hear. “I just wanted to say thanks for the deal you gave Asia on that guitar she bought from you last week.”
“It’s a good beginner guitar,” I said. “I’m glad she likes it.” We both looked over to the stage, where fifteen-year-old Asia Kennedy was talking to Eric, The Hairy Banana’s bass player when he wasn’t giving art lessons or creating graphic novels. Asia’s spiky blond hair was sticking out all over her head. I could see her strong rower’s shoulders and legs under her long-sleeved blue T-shirt and the argyle leggings Jess had made.
“I know you gave her the family rate and I appreciate that,” Vince said.
I turned back to face him. “I’m glad Asia likes music,” I said. “It got me through my teenage years more or less unscathed. She’s a good kid.”
Vince’s expression turned serious. “She really is,” he said. He shook his head. “I’d better get this back to Sam’s office,” he said, holding up the guitar. “Thanks again, Sarah.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
I stopped at the pub in the morning to pick up the boxes of KISS gear for Avery, and Elvis and I had breakfast with Sam. The conversation eventually turned to the development proposal and Lily’s death.
“Do you think someone could have been that upset with her refusal to sell that they could have killed her?” I asked.
Sam raked his fingers through his beard. “On purpose? Nah. I can’t see it. Take Vince, for example. That development goes ahead, his problems are pretty much solved.” He reached for his coffee. “If he could just get market value for that old building of his father’s, the old man would be able to stay in that nursing home until he dies.” He took a sip from his mug. “But could you imagine Vince killing Lily—killing anyone—over that?”
I couldn’t.
“Or what about Liz? The Emmerson Foundation holds the mortgages on two buildings that would come down for North Landing and they’re both in default, but I don’t see Liz shoving Lily down a set of stairs.”
I didn’t say that wasn’t exactly what had happened. I just nodded in agreement.