“Don’t I know it? My treat,” the DA said.
None of this would fly in NYC.
I felt the annoyance rise and tried to lower my hackles. This was why I’d left Harrogate—this petty small-town bullshit.
“Emmie murdered Brooks. Everyone saw it. There are a hundred witnesses,” Theo argued.
The DA squirmed.
“She didn’t. There were no witnesses. Just because Ms. Dawson was in the vicinity doesn’t mean she had anything to do with his death. We don’t even know if it was the cupcakes,” I argued. “He could have had a burst appendix. He could have had an allergic reaction. It could have been anything. You might as well arrest everyone who was in the café this morning.”
“He does have a point…” Emmie made big teary eyes at the DA.
“That girl can’t sit in a jail cell. Chief, let her out.” The DA motioned.
The chief’s keys jangled.
“You’re not going anywhere, are you, Ms. Emmie?” the DA asked.
“No, she is not a flight risk,” I assured him before Emmie could say something stupid.
I grabbed her arm and half dragged her back out into the cloudy winter afternoon.
She shivered on the sidewalk.
“You got me out of jail.” She seemed to be in shock.
Begrudgingly, because I knew my mother would materialize from France just to yell at me, I wordlessly took off my coat and draped it around her.
“Thank you.” The young woman clutched at the coat. “I can’t believe you were able to get me out of jail.” She stared up at me in a daze.
“Just for today,” I warned.
“Just today?”
“They could still arrest you, for keeps this time.”
The tears started again. Moose wound around her feet.
Emmie’s grandmother was there to envelop her in a warm hug as the seniors cheered.
“You did it!” My aunt kissed my cheek. “You saved the day!”
“Aunt Frances, that is not how this works. There will be a trial. In fact, I would bet anything that Theo will convince the DA to do so at their next little drink session.”
Aunt Frances nudged me as Emmie sobbed on her grandmother’s shoulder. “So you’re taking her case?”
I reminded myself no good deed went unpunished. I shouldn’t get any more involved. Small-town girl’s hubby was cheating on her. She axed him. The end.
But what if she didn’t?
And if not, then who did?
“She’s cute,” Aunt Frances whispered. “Women fall in love with their saviors, you know!”
“Yes, I am taking her case, but I’m not getting romantically involved with a person who allegedly poisoned her husband.”
“You’re a man with a cat on a leash,” my aunt said flatly. “Your options are limited.”
