Snuffed Out - Tim Myers [57]
She just rolled her eyes. “Are you coming?” she said as she started for the door.
“At least let me lead the way.”
I started to flip on the hall light when Heather put hen hand on mine. “Maybe we shouldn’t advertise that we’re coming.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said. There was enough light! shining through for me to see the stairwell, and I grabbed the rail with one hand as I clutched the bat in the other. I had never been all that fond of guns, but the bat felt reassuring in my hand.
I carefully opened the door and found Sheriff Morton standing in front of Heather’s shop.
“Have a night game?” he asked, then sneezed.
I relaxed. “Just thought we’d hit a few balls in the parking lot. I thought you were sick.”
“No way,” he said, then sneezed again. He looked as pale as I’d ever seen him.
I said, “No, you’re a picture of perfect health. What are doing out here?”
Morton said, “Patrolling. Too many men out, so I had to work.”
“Go home, sheriff. There’s nothing going on out here.”
He gestured to the lights. “Those are new.”
“I thought they might help.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” he said as he wiped at his eyes.
“Sheriff, if we need you, we’ll call.”
“Yeah, I’d better get back to the office.”
I thought about offering to drive him, but decided against it, knowing that the only result of my offer would be his howling protest.
As he drove off, Heather came up behind me. I suddenly realized that she’d held back in the shadows as I’d spoken to the sheriff.
“There you are,” I said.
“When I saw it was the sheriff, I went back for my purse. It’s been a long day, and I want to get home.”
I looked around and noticed her car was missing. “Where’d you park?”
“I’m in back. I’ll just go through my shop and collect Esme, then I’m going home.”
“Let me walk you through your store,” I said.
“You don’t have to,” Heather protested.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
As she unlocked the door to her shop, she said, “Admit it, you just want to say hi to the cat.”
“Sure, that’s it,” I said as I followed her inside.
She flipped on a few lights as we entered the shop, and Esmeralda got up from her bed and stretched as only a cat could. I didn’t expect her to rush to me, but we’d formed a friendship, so I thought she’d at least acknowledge my presence.
Instead, she ignored me utterly and jumped up into Heather’s arms.
“Hello to you, too,” I said.
Heather laughed. “What were you expecting? She’s a cat, Harrison, not a dog.”
“I know that,” I said.
I walked her through her shop, then out the back. Heather put Esmeralda in the passenger seat and turned to me. She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“For believing me.”
I stayed there until she drove off, then walked back around to the front of River’s Edge. I did believe her, whether I had reason to or not. Sanora was still a suspect, and so was Gary Cragg, but there was one person I’d ignored up to now: the mysterious Ms. X. It was time to track down Aaron Gaston’s last love.
But it would have to wait until morning. I’d had a big day, and all I wanted to do was get some rest.
As I drifted off, I remembered the brush-off Esmeralda, had given me. How could I begin to explain to a cat that: the reason I hadn’t seen her for so long had nothing to do with me? Maybe if I gave her the catnip mouse, she’d get over it.
Cats and women. I was no closer to understanding one of them than I was the other.
The first thing Eve noticed walking into At Wick’s End the next day was the absent pair of candles. “What happened, did you finally decide to throw them out?”
I kept looking at my inventory sheet as I said, “No, I sold them after you left yesterday.”
“You are kidding me,” Eve said. “How in the world did you manage that?”
“I had a customer with very particular tastes.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. Belle is probably spinning in her grave.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“Harrison, I can’t believe she ever intended those for sale. They were her experiments, not her stock. She would have been appalled to have them go out the door.