“Of course.” They left Donner with his head in his hands, trembling.
“Well?” Jack said when they were back at their cars.
“He’s too… frail to have done these murders.”
“Mentally or physically?”
“Both.”
Jack nodded. “I agree. Let’s confirm Donner’s alibi and find Jeremy Lyons.”
Noah gritted his teeth. “Dammit, I wish I’d grabbed that little weasel yesterday.”
“I think we’ve all been a little distracted,” Jack said. “Let’s pull LUDs on both Donner and Lyons and pay their wives a visit.”
Chapter Sixteen
Wednesday, February 24, 11:20 a.m.
Callie, it’s all right,” Eve said, setting her lunch tray on the only empty table at the Deli. She sat down and slid her computer bag safely between her feet. “None of this is your fault. I should have called you, but I had no idea this guy would come to you.”
An irate Callie had intercepted Eve coming out of Abnormal class, saying she had information about Noah Webster, that Eve needed to know. More “Buckland” lies.
“I can’t believe I talked to him. He said you were having an affair with a married man, that Webster had a wife named Susan.”
So that was her name, Eve thought. She’d died, Sal had said. More than ten years ago. With a sigh she patted Callie’s hand. “Chill. I have to send a text to Webster, let him know I’m okay.”
“I am chilled, knowing that guy grabbed you. You’re texting? Why not just call?”
Eve hated text messaging. Even short messages made her thumb throb. “He’s working. I don’t want to bother him during an interview.”
“Give me your phone. I’ll do it for you. What do you want to say?”
“Um… at the Deli with Callie. Was walked over by a large ex-wrestler named Jose. Currently surrounded by at least six cops. Am quite safe. Don’t worry, Eve.”
Callie shot her a curious look, then dutifully input the message. Then frowned. “What’s this one from this morning?” She raised angry eyes. “Did this Buckland poser text you?”
“Yeah.” And Eve was still shaken from it. “Look, I know how he found out about me. He was following Noah and I happened to be there. But how did he find out about you?”
“I don’t know. A hell of a cool-headed attorney I’m going to make. He just made one false allegation and I bought it, lock, stock, and barrel.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Cal. You can hardly be expected to be objective when it comes to your best friend. How did he contact you?”
“My cell at first, but I had it turned off because I was in class. He left me a voicemail asking if I knew you, but I didn’t hear it till after I saw him.”
“He approached you? Did he touch you?”
“No. He was waiting for me when I came out of my last class. Then he stuck Noah Webster’s wedding picture under my nose, told me you were having an affair with a married man. I told him no way, you weren’t seeing anyone and definitely not a married man. He gave me his card. Told me to call if I heard anything.”
Eve leaned forward. “But he called you. On your cell.”
Callie’s brows went up. “Who would give him my number?”
“That would have been the guy you were talking to yesterday,” a voice behind them said, and Eve and Callie twisted to see who spoke. It was the barista Eve had talked to the day before, when she bought the copy of MSP while she’d waited for Noah to come.
“What did he look like?” Eve asked.
“Short with round glasses,” he said. “The one who was giving you a hard time before your boyfriend came in and kissed you.”
Jeremy Lyons. Eve started to ask more, but Callie jumped in. “What kiss?”
“One of the cops from the magazine article,” the barista told her. “Not the cover guy. But one of the guys inside the article.”
Eve felt her cheek grow very warm when Callie started to grin. “Never mind that,” Eve said briskly. “So after we left, the reporter talked to the short guy with glasses?”
“He did. The short guy was all too happy to dish. He told the reporter he didn’t believe you and the cop were really a couple and he could prove it. He said he’d get your friends to tell the truth. Even said he’d get your phone number.” He directed the latter statement to Callie. “The reporter gave him his card and took off.”
“Took off where?” Eve asked.
“He got in his car and started driving the same way you all went.”
Eve frowned at him. “You saw which way I went when I left here?”
“Sweetheart, when you two left, everybody watched which way you went.”
Eve covered her burning face with her hands. “Oh my God. How embarrassing.”
“How fascinating,” Callie said with relish. “What happened next?”
“She and the Hat guy left, his arm around her, real tight,” the barista said, conspiratorially. “And that yummy Detective Phelps was in the passenger seat. That made my day.” He gave Eve a mock glare. “You never said you knew him.”
Eve shrugged, still mortified. “Sorry, but I don’t think you’re Jack Phelps’s type.”
“I figured as much. What a waste. Look, I gotta get back behind the counter. I saw how upset you were and I wanted to let you know what I saw.”
“Thank you,” Eve said, sincerely. “Truly.”
When the barista was gone, Callie said nothing, just sipped her coffee and waited.
Eve rolled her eyes. “I wanted to throw Jeremy Lyons off the trail. He was sure I was cooperating with the cops or the papers or both. I wanted to give him the wrong idea.”
“So it was a ruse,” Callie said, obviously enjoying the moment. “Just one kiss.”
Eve dropped her eyes to her fidgeting hands and Callie crowed in delight.
“More than one?”
Eve’s lips still tingled from it. As did every other square inch of her body. “Oh, yeah.”
Callie sighed. “And you’re going to find a reason it can’t work. It’ll be a stupid one and you’ll cling to it like a drowning man clings to one of those… circle… things.”
Eve had to smile. “You mean a life preserver?”
“Shut up,” Callie said, but without heat. “Tell me you’ll give him a chance.”
“Now you sound like David.”
“Who appears to be as smart as he is sexy. So what is your reason, Eve? Why have you convinced yourself this thing with Webster won’t work? Don’t you trust him?”
Eve shrugged uneasily. “That’s the problem. I trusted him the first time I saw him.”
“How is this a problem?” Callie asked, exasperated.
“Because… I don’t just trust people. Especially men. Who look like him.”
“Which is how? Impossibly handsome?”
“No. Trustworthy.” Eve winced. “I know that sounds stupid.”
Callie’s expression softened. “Maybe you trust him because he’s the one.”
“I’d like to believe that.” She thought about what she’d really wanted to do when he’d kissed her in that office and her face heated. “It’s not wise.”
“Since when have you ever been wise? Which is what you said, not two days ago.”
“That was about my roof, not…” Not about gobbling Noah Webster in great big bites. She was still overheated, thinking about the kiss that had consumed every breath of air in the room. And she’d agreed to have dinner with him. What was I thinking? That she wanted more. A whole lot more. “Never mind.”
“I’m getting hot just watching you get hot,” Callie said. “So what was it like?”
Eve was spared a reply by the ringing of her cell phone. “Noah,” she answered, ignoring Callie’s delighted grin. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I got your text. And I needed to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine. Noah, that Buckland person contacted Callie, too.”
“How did he get her to talk to him? Did he threaten her, too?”
“No. He was trying to get information from her. He told her you were married, that your wife’s name was Susan, that I was the other woman. He wanted Callie to confirm we weren’t together, that I was lying yesterday when I… when we… you know.”