Allison didn’t take her eyes off the car until it was out of sight. Then, tears in her eyes, she said, “See what you’ve done?” and hurried back toward the Sanctuary.
I stared at her as she retreated. Nothing I could have said would have made a difference. Not now.
I wouldn’t find answers to what had just transpired by going home and hiding—which would have been the comfortable and cowardly thing to do. Instead, I drove into town and went straight to Belle’s Beans. One thing I’d learned about Mercy in the last few days was that people spread the word about anything and everything. Someone surely knew why Shawn had been taken in for questioning again, and the only way I could find answers was by planting myself in the center of town and hoping someone would share the latest gossip.
I walked inside, but even the wonderful smells—coffee and butter-rich pastries—couldn’t obliterate the guilt I felt about what had happened at the Sanctuary. How could someone like me, who at one time had every detail of her life carefully planned out, have a year like this? Everything seemed so . . . so out of control.
“You’re lookin’ a might ragged,” the Belle of the Day behind the counter said. Her cornrowed hair sections were tipped with vibrant colored beads that clicked together with every movement.
I ordered the biggest latte they offered, and as I handed over the money she added, “ Course you been through the wringer and back.” This stranger probably knew more than I did about the current events in my life.
“What’s your real name?” I said, managing a smile.
She grinned. “You’ve become a real Mercyite. You know the secret. My name is Shondra. Now let me fix your coffee. We’re usin’ Sumatra beans today. Sumatra is in Africa. Didn’t know until I started working here how good African beans are. These are nice and smoky.”
I waited for my coffee, wishing the original, very talkative Belle was here, but she wasn’t sitting and reading like she had been the other day. Maybe I’d have to head for the tea shop down the street and have chicken salad for lunch, or buy flowers at the little florist place in the other direction. I could maybe strike up a conversation in one of those places.
Shondra handed over my coffee and I thought about chatting
Boy, was I glad to see him. “Maybe. You want to join me?”
I took my drink to a corner table. Tom might know why Shawn had been taken in for another interview. While I waited for him, I checked my home video feed, and what I saw on my cell phone screen made me grin. Little Dove had wormed her way into Merlot’s heart, at least while he thought I wasn’t looking. They were curled up together on the couch. Gosh, she was a sweetheart, and Merlot was such a big softie.
“Everything working okay?” He took the stool across from me.
I closed my phone.“Yes, the security cameras work great. And I guess the threat to my cats is gone now anyway—though not in a way I would ever have wished for.”
“Wilkerson died a pretty ugly death; that’s for sure. He pissed someone off royal,” Tom said.
I sipped my coffee. Shondra was right. Delicious stuff.
“Back in my law enforcement days—”
“You were a cop?” I said, surprised. But then, it made sense—and actually explained a lot of what I had considered odd behavior before. For instance, how he had reacted to me when he’d discovered me at Wilkerson’s house.
“Police officer. For ten years. And back then I would have honed in on you as a suspect. That cat means the world to you and Flake stole him. The knife holder was right by that apple he’d just cut up and—”
“I never even noticed the knife holder, and you surely know the man was dead when I got there. And the police do, too, right?”
He held up both hands. “I am not privy to their thoughts on you as a suspect. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t suspect you, even though my acting like a jackass yesterday may have left you uncertain about that.”
“You did kind of scare me a bit. But that’s behind us.”
He smiled at me. “I like a forgiving woman. I’m glad you decided to try Belle’s Beans.”
“Why?” I said.
“Because I found you here today. I was thinking last night how rough you’ve had it in the past year and how it’s not getting much better. But you seem to have handled what life’s thrown at you with mettle.”
“You must have me confused with Miss Upstate John Deere or Candace. I am not the least bit brave.”
He laughed. “Winnebago. Miss Upstate Winnebago. She’s something, huh?”
“I kinda like Lydia,” I said.
“Because she let you off the hook yesterday?” he said. “Don’t be fooled by that.”
“She considers me a suspect?”
“Can we not go there? I don’t know much of anything except not to trust Lydia. She’s a nutcase. So let’s talk about something else. I heard you took in one of Wilkerson’s cats.”
“No secrets in Mercy,” I said. “But what’s this about Lydia?”
