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Chapter 20

“Then we’ll go talk to her and change her mind,” Rose said.

Liz looked at her across the table. “It’s not that simple, Rose.”

“It’s not that complicated, either,” she said. “This woman knows Maddie didn’t kill Arthur but she’s keeping quiet because she doesn’t want to look foolish. If she really understood what’s at stake she’d go to the police. So it’s up to us to explain it to her.”

I leaned against my chair. Rose did make it sound simple.

“Maddie, is it possible that Aleida put something in Arthur’s coffee?” I asked.

Maddie shook her head. “No. She didn’t touch it, and when I came back in, her car was gone.”

Rose pushed back her chair and stood up. “Who’s coming with me?” she asked.

Charlotte reached a hand across the table. “Sit down, Rose. You don’t even know where the woman lives.”

In some perverse cosmic coincidence, the door to the sandwich shop opened then and Alfred Peterson walked in. A look of triumph gleamed in Rose’s blue eyes.

“Alfred will find her,” she said.

Maddie reached out and caught her arm. “You can’t do this, Rose,” she said. “You can’t make Aleida talk to the police. She’s afraid of what her family will do.”

Rose brushed off Maddie’s hand. “I understand what you’re saying,” she said. “But that doesn’t change anything. You going to prison for something you didn’t do is a lot worse than your friend looking like an old fool to her family.” She looked around the table at the rest of us. “Maybe the rest of you are willing to stand back and do nothing but I’m not.”

I knew that determined look in her eye and that shoulders-squared stance.

“Drew Barrymore wouldn’t sit around and do nothing,” she said. And then she tossed her hair, or she would have if she’d actually had enough hair to toss.

Jess leaned sideways. “Drew Barrymore?” she whispered in my ear.

“Charlie’s Angels. It’s a long story,” I said, rubbing the knot that had suddenly tightened in my left shoulder.

Rose made her way around the table and headed for the door of the sandwich shop. Mr. P. smiled when he caught sight of her. She grabbed his arm. “Alfred, I need your help,” she said without stopping, pulling him along toward the door.

Jess twisted in her seat, one hand on the back of my chair, to watch the little drama being played out behind us. “What’s she doing?” she asked.

I picked up my coffee cup. “Wait for it,” I said softly.

Mr. P. looked a little startled but he was nothing if not game—and totally smitten with Rose. “All right,” he said.

A few feet from the entrance Rose slowed down. “In case you’re not paying attention—and none of you seem to be—this is where you all come after me.”

I pushed back my chair and stood up. “And there you go,” I said to Jess.

She grinned back at me. “This is better than HBO.”

Liz lifted a hand. “Rose, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” she said. She turned to Maddie. “She’s like a dog with a bone. She will find this woman and end up on her doorstep. It’s worth asking her one more time to help you. So let us go with you.”

Charlotte nodded.

Maddie looked up at me.

I pointed over my shoulder with one finger. “Do you really think she’s going to give up?” I asked.

“I’m not,” Rose said. She wouldn’t turn around.

I could almost see Maddie’s thoughts as she weighed her loyalty to Aleida Scott against the possibility that she could spend the rest of her life in jail, mixed with Rose’s monumental stubborn streak.

“All right,” she said.

I smiled at her, and Liz and Charlotte exchanged satisfied looks. Even Jess looked pleased.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Rose said.

I turned to look at her, “Hang on, Drew Barrymore,” I said. I looked back at Maddie. “Do you want to call Aleida first?”

She traced the edge of the table with one finger. “She won’t talk to me.”

“Then I guess we’re going to see her,” I said.

“Oh, goody. Road trip,” Jess said. She stood up, stretched and started gathering our dishes.

“You’re coming with us?” I asked.

She grinned and handed me my cup so I could drink the last mouthful of coffee. “There’s no way I’m staying behind.”

I drained my coffee and handed the mug back to her. “Maddie, where are we going?” I asked.

“Rockport,” she said.

Half an hour, maybe forty minutes, depending on where Aleida lived in the small resort town.

Jess headed for the counter with the loaded tray. Rose and Mr. P. had their heads together. I was guessing that she was filling him in.

Maddie had gotten to her feet, but she still looked very uncertain. I was a little worried that her kind heart was getting in the way.

“Maddie, I think you should stay here,” I said.

She looked surprised. “Why?”

“Because you already tried to convince Aleida to help you. I don’t want her to feel like she’s being ambushed. If we go without you we’re just concerned friends.”

Charlotte put her arm around Maddie’s shoulders. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said. She looked at me. “I’m going to stay here, too.”

I nodded. “I’ll keep Rose in check,” I said.

Maddie reached out and caught my hand. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said. There was a glint of unshed tears in her eyes.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I said quietly. Our eyes met and after a moment she nodded.

Charlotte came around the table and hugged me. “I love you, sweetie,” she said.

“Love you, too,” I said, giving her an extra squeeze. “I’ll call you when there’s anything to share.”

I walked over to Rose and Mr. P. “Are you coming with us?” I asked him.

“Absolutely, my dear,” he said. “You may need tech support—or muscle.”

Rose gave him an encouraging smile.

“Good to have you along,” I said.

Liz rode shotgun. “Are you sure you want to sit back there?” she turned to ask Jess.

“Oh yeah,” Jess said. “I have a feeling the backseat is where all the fun conversation is going to happen.” She looked from Liz to me. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Liz said.

Maddie had written down Aleida’s address. I showed it to Liz. “Highway?” I asked.

She nodded. “I know where it is. I’ll give you directions once we get to the turnoff.”

The conversation in the backseat certainly was . . . interesting. Rose explained how Avery had dubbed them Charlie’s Angels and they debated who was who. Then Mr. P. shared some of his more colorful computer hacking stories.

“The police are going to arrive at the shop one of these days, cut off my Wi-Fi and throw me in jail, aren’t they?” I said quietly to Liz.

She shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “There’s a good chance of it,” she said. Then she grinned. “Don’t worry. We’ll take your case. We’ll even give you the family rate.”

“That’s so comforting,” I said dryly.

Liz gave clear, concise directions and we turned onto Aleida Scott’s street about forty minutes after we’d left McNamara’s. She lived in a medium-size gray bungalow with black shutters and a deep purple front door. There was a maple tree with buttery yellow leaves near the edge of the driveway.

“How are we going to do this?” Liz asked, shifting in her seat to look into the backseat. “We can’t all go. That really would be an ambush.”

“Sarah and I will go talk to her,” Rose said.

Liz gave her a look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rose said, frowning at her friend. “I’m not going to attack the woman. I just want her to understand what’s at stake.” She turned to me. “Please.”

“Let Rose and me give it a try,” I said.

Now I was the one getting a look from Liz. I waited.