Or even all of us.
* * *
After my library day ended, I walked back to the marina through downtown. I’d felt my feet moving to go around and had corrected myself. “No way,” I told my feet, and reoriented them in the direction of the main drag. “You enjoy downtown. You like the people and the energy. You will not be afraid of getting pushed into the street again.”
More than a week after I’d fallen, I’d come to the conclusion that whatever had happened had been sheer accident. No one had tried to kill me; that was silly. No one had tried to kill me since, right? If they’d been serious about the effort, there had been plenty of times when I’d been by myself and could have been picked off by various methods without too much trouble. Ergo, it had been an accident.
“It couldn’t have been anything else,” I murmured, and promptly walked straight into a large human being.
“Sorry!” I gasped, backing up and almost running into an elderly couple and their little dog. “Sorry,” I said to them, then turned to face whoever it was I’d collided with.
He was big and tall and sturdy, and luckily, he was smiling. “Hey, Minnie,” Mitchell Koyne said. “Funny running into you here.” He laughed.
I sort of laughed back, because he clearly thought he’d made a joke. “Sorry,” I said again. “My mind was elsewhere, I guess.” We edged out of the way of foot traffic and stood next to the toy store, under the perky striped awning.
“Me too.” Mitchell hefted a broom. “The beach is a quarter mile away but somehow sand gets tracked in all day long.” He made a face. “Hate the feel of sand under my shoes.”
I wasn’t sure what was more surprising, that Mitchell knew exactly how far away the city beach was, that he was skilled in broom handling, or that he had an opinion on cleanliness. For the millionth time, I told myself not to underestimate Mitchell. All these years, he’d been hiding an upright and contributing member of society underneath an aw-shucks exterior. It had taken the love of a good woman to bring forth the butterfly from the caterpillar, and if, every so often, I missed the old Mitchell, then shame on me.
Mitchell leaned on his broom and looked down at me. That downward look was something I was used to, because most adults and many children on the planet looked down on me that way, but especially Mitchell, because he was more than a foot taller than I was. It made conversations with him a bit awkward, because if I stood a normal distance away, I risked a stiff neck, and if I inched far enough away to ease my neck pain, it looked like I was trying to escape.
“I keep meaning to talk to you about your niece.”
“Oh?” I kept my tone light, but on the inside everything from my shoulders to my toes clenched tight. Kate was insubordinate. She didn’t deal well with the customers. She was late, left early, took long breaks, and used her cell phone all day long. He needed to fire her and wanted to let me know first. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Just wanted to say that she’s a great kid.”
I blinked. “She’s . . . what?”
“Well, I figured she’d be a decent worker, being your niece and all, but she’s really good.”
“She . . . is?”
“You bet,” he said, nodding. “If all of my employees worked as hard as she does, I’d be able to hire fewer people.”
Kate was a hard worker? Pam had said much the same thing, but it was difficult to reconcile Kate the Industrious Employee with the Kate who didn’t bother to fold her clean laundry. “So things are working out?”
“Absolutely.” He beamed. “So I wanted to thank you for sending her my way, that’s all. I’ve already told her that if she wants to come back next year, she’ll probably get bumped up to—”
My phone rang loudly. “Sorry,” I said, fumbling to turn it off. But since it’s almost impossible to turn off a ringing cell phone without looking to see who’s calling, I looked and saw it was Ash.
“Um, Mitchell,” I said, “it’s great that you like Kate, and I’d love to talk more, but I need to take this call.”
“Sure. See you later,” he said, and went back to his sweeping task.
I poked at my still-ringing phone. “Hey,” I said. “Any news on the investigation front? Or is this a social call?”
“Both,” he said.
I sucked in a quick breath. His voice had been terse and grim. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s your niece. She’s been hauled in by a deputy. You’d better get over here.”
Chapter 10
I rushed down to the sheriff’s office, and on the way called Aunt Frances, then Rafe. I started to call my brother, but stopped just before I pushed the button. No. I’d call after I knew more. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as it sounded. Maybe there was just a misunderstanding.
I burst in the front door as Aunt Frances and Otto pulled into the parking lot. A deputy ushered us back to the interview room, where three people were already sitting; Kate, Ash, and Sheriff Kit Richardson.
The two law enforcement officers sat across the table from Kate, who was slouched in her chair, arms crossed and chin on her chest.
“Kate, are you okay?” I asked. She muttered something that could have been “I’m fine,” and Aunt Frances and Otto and I pulled chairs up to the table. It was a tight fit for six, but we made it work.
“Sheriff,” I said, nodding at Kit Richardson. Straight-backed and serious, she was an imposing figure, but I’d once seen her in an ancient bathrobe while cuddling Eddie, so I knew she had a human side.
“Ms. Hamilton,” the sheriff said. “Good to see you, Ms. Pixley, or I suppose it’s Ms. Bingham now?”
Aunt Frances smiled. “And it’s always Frances. Have you met my husband?”
The sheriff shook hands with Otto. “Haven’t had the pleasure. Good to have you in Chilson, sir.”
Kate sighed, but not heavily. Which was good, because if she had she would’ve gotten a jab in the ribs from my elbow. The sheriff’s interview room was not the place to display an attitude. I knew this from personal experience.
“What’s going on, Kit?” my aunt asked. “Why is my great-niece here?”
The sheriff turned to Ash. “Do you want to explain, or shall we pull in Deputy Gardner?”
Ash looked at the sheriff, at the rest of us, then back at the sheriff. “If it’s all right with you, ma’am, I can describe the incident.”
She nodded. “Go ahead, Deputy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took a breath, and stared at the wall as he spoke. “We have learned that Ms. Katrina Hamilton, known as Kate, had taken cell phone photos of the Fourth of July crowd on her cell phone before her discovery of the body of Mr. Rex Stuhler.”
Kate’s relatives swiveled to gaze at her. Kate herself started sliding down in her chair.
Ash went on. “Since that day, Ms. Kate Hamilton has been taking the pictures into downtown businesses and asking staff and customers if they could name the people in the photos. An hour ago, she walked into the Wood Shed bar. Deputy Gardner was inside the establishment, off-duty, and recognized Ms. Hamilton. Knowing that she was under age, the deputy approached and overheard her conversation with the bartender. He called Detective Inwood regarding the matter. Detective Inwood requested that Deputy Gardner bring Ms. Hamilton into the sheriff’s office.”
There was so much wrong here that I didn’t know where to start being angry. But . . . the Wood Shed? Really? The dive-iest bar in Chilson? How did she have the courage to walk into a place like that at her age?
Sheriff Richardson stirred. “Ms. Hamilton,” she said flatly. “Please explain two things. One. What on God’s great earth did you think you were doing? Number two.” The sheriff leaned forward, focusing her laser-like stare on my niece. “Get us those photos or I’ll charge you with obstruction.”