“Nothing like the smell of coffee and murder in the morning.” Emelia sat down on one of the brown leather couches and I joined her. It was cold and I cradled the warm cup between my hands.
“So,” Mike said, walking up to the wall. “I’ve put all the letters into a timeline, and slotted the diary entries in between. Becca, you were looking for another bunch of letters that were put into her favorite book,Pride and Prejudice?” He looked at me and I nodded. “Well, look at the plans of the house and the date of the letter.” I stood up and walked over to his wall, reading the dates on the letters and plans.
“The library in the house hadn’t been built yet?” I asked, looking up at him.
He nodded. “Exactly. So she wouldn’t have hidden the letters here.”
“But where, then?” I asked.
He pointed to a newspaper article and I read the headline aloud. “Willow Bay’s library is renovated.” I stopped and thought for a while. “You think she put all the letters in a public library?”
“That makes sense. She wanted him to find them, right? She wouldn’t have stashed them here, inside the house, if she was expecting him to come and get them,” Emelia added.
“Sure, I guess. But there’s no way that they would still be there now. How many people have takenPride and Prejudiceout since then?” I asked.
“But maybe they’re not in a book. Maybe it’s not that obvious. Maybe there is a panel in the shelf. She wouldn’t have just put them inside the book,” Mike offered up.
“Maybe it’s not in the library at all. Maybe she had a secret hiding spot for the book,” Ash added.
“Where?” Mike asked.
“Under the stage at the town hall,” I blurted out.
“Did you see anything there, under the stage?” Mike asked.
“You’ve been under the stage at the town hall?” Ash asked, looking confused. “But your cat was fake; why would you go there if you . . . WAIT!” Her eyes widened. “Were you the one who stole the cat and cut—?” She burst out laughing before she could finish her sentence. “Oh my God, itwasyou, wasn’t it? I drew you!” Her laughter grew and I gripped the sides of my coffee mug even tighter. “Wow. You really get around!” Ash exclaimed.
“Yeah, she does.” Mike cut her off in a gruff, stern voice. “And it’s not funny; they might not have the Persian parade here again because of what Becca did, and that would be bad for tourism. Well, they won’t have it here unless the infamous catnapper is apprehended, which puts me in a very difficult situation, being as I’m actually harboring the catnapper here, in my house.” His tone was harsh.
God, he really was angry with me. This wasn’t something that was going to blow over very easily. Maybe it would never blow over. Maybe I had really ruined this thing between us, permanently. Maybe the most I could hope for after this was for him to be able to look me in the eye again. Maybe, maybe, maybe . . .Too many maybes.I felt sick. My stomach knotted as the strong black coffee hit it.
“You okay?” Emelia asked. I hadn’t realized I wasn’t hiding my feelings.
“Just coffee on an empty stomach, making me feel a bit—”
“OH! Hang on!” She jumped up. “That reminds me.” She raced out of the room and I looked after her.
“She’s got something in the oven. She’s a baker,” Ash said.
“Really?” My stomach immediately growed at the idea of baked goods.
“She’s very good. I always say I fell in love with her the second I tasted her muffin,” Ash said, and then burst out laughing again.
“Ash! God!” Mike shook his head and smiled.
I also laughed, but Mike quickly ended it.
“So, did you find anything under the stage?” he asked, in a loud, very formal manner.
“No. I couldn’t get into the room; it’s been boarded up,” I said.
“You couldn’t? You couldn’t—?” He cut himself off and then shook his head. “Seriously? You didn’t get in, after all the trouble you caused? After all that, you didn’t get what you came for?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Ash laughed again. “Did you see that drawing of you? The one I did?”
“Yes.” I smiled.
