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His eyes widen a moment and he shakes his head. “You might not be too off base.” He chuckles. “I’m actually in charge of digging around to see if the string of fires we’ve had were connected.”
“Were they?”
“It’s hard to tell.” He winces in the direction of my mother’s friends who still seem to be pretty heated about something. “A name popped up on the registry regarding cases of arson in the last ten years.” He nods their way. “Let’s just say one of the women that was at Rizzo’s the night of the murder has an arson charge on her record.”
I take in a breath so quick I nearly inhale a June bug.
“Which one?”
“I’m sorry, Lottie. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Lou, I’m glad you mentioned it. Those women, like it or not, are all on the suspect list as far as Bella Hall’s murder goes. I mean, basically, everyone who was at the restaurant that night is a suspect. But they knew her. And if one of them has a previous charge for arson, that should be noted. Although, I can’t see there being any connection. But just in case, you should talk to Noah. He’s in charge of the investigation.” Everything in me is itching to shake the name out of him. “Come on, Lou. Which one is it?”
His chest expands and his expression softens. With his dark hair and slight dimples, he could be another brother of Noah’s they look enough alike.
“It’s the redhead.” He grimaces. “I’m not saying another word. Regardless, I don’t see how she would be responsible for the fires and the murder. There was a suspicious fire the night Bella was killed.”
I nod. “And it was several blocks from Rizzo’s.”
“That’s right, an old abandoned warehouse burned down. Thankfully, no one was hurt. Anyway, I guess if you think the arson charge should be noted, I’ll tell Noah.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “Arson is very serious. If anything, it goes to show an unstable personality trait.”
The exact personality trait of a killer.
“Nice talking with you, Lottie,” he says as he takes off for Mangias to catch up with the rest of his crew, and I watch as Danya and Crane head across the street to the bakery, leaving Marlena looking a bit shaken.
I step her way.
“Everything okay?” I ask with an air of caution.
She lifts her sunglasses before wiping a tear from her eye. “Everything is fine. They’re just a little bent out of shape because I went over to Bella’s place this morning without them.”
“They wanted to go?” I raise a brow at the thought. “Why is that?”
“Danya said she lent Bella one of her mother’s heirloom scarves and never got it back. I told her I’d take her over whenever she wanted. But Crane?” She shakes her head in the direction of the bakery. “She said she needed something from Bella’s office, she didn’t say what. And well, they both suggested it probably wasn’t a good look for me to load up a duffle bag at the home of someone who was recently murdered. They actually suggested that it made me look like a suspect. Me? Can you believe it?”
I shrug because well, let’s face it, she’s already pretty high up on the list.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Although, I would caution you from heading over to Bella’s place again—at least until the investigation is over.” Everything in me wants to ask if she’d mind taking me there as well. “Marlena, I heard you telling your friends that you knew all of Bella’s secrets. Do you think any one of those secrets could have gotten her killed?”
She sags a moment while glancing at the bakery then at the firetruck sitting in front of us. Her lips press tight as she shakes her head.
“I don’t know.” She sighs. “To be honest, Bella lived a very colorful life. She was a successful defense attorney before she became an even bigger success as an author. And as much as I hate to say it, she wasn’t shy about flaunting her success. In fact, she could be a bit salty.”
“So I’ve heard.”
We head back to the bakery and she finds a seat with my mother and her other two writing buddies while I help Lily and Suze with the continuous onslaught of customers.
By the time things wind down, I’m in need of a serious sugar fix, so I steal a pineapple upside-down cupcake off of the plate of goodies in front of Charlie and Cormack.
Carlotta and Teeny Weenie are still busy noshing on their third plate of cinnamon rolls, and Lyla Nell is happily playing with Charlie’s golden locks while falling into a cookie comma.
“What’s going on?” I ask and Cormack holds a hand up.
“Not now, Lauren, we’re updating my registries.”
Charlie nods. “Everything is getting scooped up so quickly. And with the invite list growing, we’ll need more gifts for people to buy.”
