He looked confused. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted Vince to tell her what he did.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Most things are,” he said. “What’s going on?”
I shifted the gym bag from one shoulder to another, hoping Elvis wouldn’t choose now to meow and give me away. “I just want to talk to him for a minute, Sam. Can you just trust me?”
He nodded slowly. “He’s in my office, but Asia’s with him, Sarah. Think carefully about what you say.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
He inclined his head in the direction of the kitchen. “You want a bowl of sausage and penne soup?” he asked.
“Ummm, thanks. That sounds good,” I said. I kept one hand on the bag as a warning to Elvis that he needed to stay still and quiet if he wanted any of the tiny sausage meatballs that would be in my soup.
Vince and Asia were on the couch in Sam’s office. Vince was playing Sam’s twelve-string. Asia was eating something—the Italian penne and sausage soup, my nose told me.
“Hi,” I said.
“I’m feeding Sarah in here because she has her cat with her,” Sam said.
So much for fooling him.
Vince looked up and nodded in my direction but didn’t say anything.
Asia smiled. “Hi, Sarah,” she said. “Can I see your cat?” She was wearing a Queen T-shirt and skinny jeans, her short blond hair brushed back off her face.
“Sure,” I said. I took off my coat and tossed it over the back of an armless chair Sam had bought from my shop. Then I set the bag on the floor, opened the top, and Elvis poked his head out and looked around.
“Hello,” Asia said, holding out one hand. Elvis walked toward her, nose twitching. After sardines and Tasty Tenders, meatballs were one of his favorite foods. He sniffed Asia’s fingers and then licked her thumb. She laughed. “Is it all right if I give him a meatball?” she asked.
“Go ahead,” I said. I knew I’d have a better chance of wrestling a bobcat away from one of those meatballs than I would Elvis.
She fished one out of her bowl and held it out. Elvis sniffed it delicately, and then the whole thing went in his mouth. He ate it, licked her fingers and then meowed softly.
“You don’t need any more,” I said. He didn’t even look at me. I was on ignore.
Asia patted her lap, and to her delight Elvis jumped up, settled himself and sniffed the air.
I laughed. “He’s not exactly subtle.”
“He so friendly,” she said, stroking his fur.
“That’s because he’s a ham bone for attention,” I said.
Vince continued to play Sam’s guitar, but I’d seen him dart little looks in my direction from time to time.
Sam came back in then with a bowl of soup for me. I could smell the oregano and tomatoes and see slivers of mozzarella and croutons in the bowl.
I thanked him and settled in the chair. Asia snuck Elvis another meatball when she thought I wasn’t looking. I was trying to figure how to start the conversation, let alone steer it to the development, when Asia solved the problem for me.
“Sarah, is it true that you bought the old chandelier from Doran’s that used to be right inside the front doors and the people from North by West want to buy it for their project here?”
“It’s true,” I said, chasing a crouton around the bowl with my spoon.
“So that means they really are going to build it, right?” She was still stroking Elvis’s fur. He was curled up on her lap, front paws tucked up under his body.
“Nothing’s decided yet,” Vince said. “I told you that.” I could hear the tension in his voice.
“Your dad’s right,” I said. “Things are still up in the air.”
“Lily’s . . . dead,” Asia said. “She can’t stop everything anymore.”
I nodded. “I know, but Lily felt pretty strongly about not selling the bakery. Whoever she left it to may decide they want to honor her wishes.” I didn’t want to get into the concept of eminent domain with a teenager.
The color rose in Asia’s cheeks. “But that’s not fair,” she said hotly. “Lily’s reasons were her own, and she’s gone now so . . . so everything’s different now.”
“Don’t,” Vince warned. He stopped playing and put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.
“Why?” she said, looking from me to her father. “Lily was the reason we couldn’t sell Gramp’s building. I’m sorry she’s dead, but she is, and now there isn’t any reason to not fix up the harbor front.”
“Enough,” Vince said. “You’re being disrespectful.” He didn’t raise his voice, but something in his tone made Asia drop her head. He wiped the side of his mouth with the edge of his hand and leaned Sam’s twelve-string against the couch.
“I get that you’re angry,” I said.
Asia glanced at Vince before she spoke. “If Lily didn’t like all the plans, why didn’t she just move the bakery somewhere else?” she said. “That’s what a lot of people were saying. A lot of them were mad.”
Here was my opening. “You think someone was angry enough to kill her?”
“You mean somebody who lives in North Harbor?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “No way. I know people were pissed but not that pissed.”
I watched Elvis. Asia was stroking his fur as she talked. His eyes were half-closed and he was purring. If he thought Asia was lying, I couldn’t see any sign of it.
Vince nudged his daughter. “Hey, kiddo, would you go get me a refill?” He held out his cup.
“Sure, Dad,” she said. She set Elvis on the floor and took Vince’s mug. “Would you like more coffee, Sarah?” she asked.
“Please.” I handed her my own cup.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
“I know what you’re doing,” Vince said as soon as the office door closed behind Asia. Annoyed that he’d been moved from the warmth of Asia’s lap, Elvis stalked over to me and head butted my leg. I reached down and lifted him onto my lap, where he kneaded my legs with his paws before stretching out.
“I know what you’re doing, too,” I said. “It wasn’t you wearing that wig, was it?”
He looked away and then his gaze came back to me. “I already told you that I was the one who pulled those stunts on Lily. I told Detective Andrews the same thing.” The muscles along his jawline were tight, as though he was grinding his teeth together.
“You made yourself a suspect, Vince,” I said.
“I didn’t have anything to do with Lily’s death.”
“I know. And neither did Asia.”
“So we’re done?” Vince finally said after what seemed like a long silence.
I nodded. It wouldn’t have made sense to anyone else—it didn’t really make sense to me—but somehow Elvis knew when people were lying, and Asia wasn’t. The worst she’d done was play some childish pranks on Lily, which made sense. She wasn’t that far from a child herself.
The office door opened and Asia came back with our coffee. She handed me my mug. “Thanks,” I said.
She smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then she hesitated and took a deep breath. “How did you know it was me?”
“Asia!” Vince said, his voice edged with warning.
She turned around and held out his coffee. “Give it up, Dad,” she said. “I just heard you and Sarah talking.”
“What? You were listening at the door?” He took the mug and got to his feet.
“So that you get pissed about?” she said, rolling her eyes in that way that only an exasperated teenager could do. She turned back to me. “How’d you know?”
“Body shape,” I said. “And I figured out the hair was a wig.”
She nodded and sat on the corner of Sam’s desk. “It was kind of lame of me to try to look like Mr. West. I didn’t want to get him in trouble . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“You just didn’t want to get yourself in trouble, either,” I finished.
Her cheeks got red and she nodded. “Pretty much. I didn’t figure anyone would think anything about him being around.”