A tense silence follows. Then a male voice erupts from the earpiece. “Who the hell is this? I swear to God, if I find out you’re doing anything with Simone, I’ll tear your ever-loving….”

  “This is Detective David Graham of the Peterborough Police Department,” David booms in his most commanding voice. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

  Another long silence echoes down the phone. I bite back a grin. I sure wouldn’t want to be the guy on the other end of that phone. When he answers, he speaks in a much more respectful tone. “I’m…. uh…. excuse me, Detective. This is Morton Malcolm. I’m…. I’m an acquaintance of Simone Peretti’s. I was just…..”

  “It sounds to me like you’re more than an acquaintance, Mr. Malcolm,” David snaps. “What’s your real relationship to Ms. Peretti?”

  Morton pauses again. Now I’m really starting to feel sorry for the poor guy. He doesn’t know whether to cry or scratch his ear. “I’m…. well, we used to be…. you know…. close, but she ended it about two years ago.”

  “If she ended it two years ago,” David cuts in, “why are you still threatening other men for doing anything with her? If she’s moving on, it’s none of your business.”

  Morton mumbles into the phone. “Yes, Sir.”

  David gets out his notebook. “What’s your address and phone number, Morton?”

  “Do I really have to answer that, Sir?” Morton stammers.

  “Yes, you do. I’m investigating the murder of Christopher Partridge. Do you know him?”

  “Yes, Sir. I know him very well.”

  “Were you on good terms with him?”

  “I wasn’t on bad terms with him, Sir, if that’s what you mean,” Morton gabbles. “He was Simone’s best friend, but they never had anything going. Anybody could see that. If you ask me, Christopher was always sort of…. you know…. the other way around.”

  “Do you mean gay?” David asks.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I see.” David gets out his pen. “I need to question you, Morton. It’s nothing serious, but since you had a personal relationship with Simone that is obviously still an issue between you two, I need to question you. Give me your address and phone number, and I’ll get in touch with you about having a formal interview.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Poor Morton. He walked straight into that one. When David finishes taking Morton’s details, he sticks Simone’s phone in his pocket and turns to me. “He sounds like a first-class jerk. No wonder she loved Christopher so much.”

  I study him. “Do you still want me to help you with the investigation?”

  “More than ever, but there’s nothing we can do tonight. I’ll take you home.”

  We make our way back outside and he opens the car door for me while I get in. He stops in front of my house and faces me in the seat. “Do you want me to come in and explain to Zack why you’re covered in blood?”

  I smile down at my stained hands. “Thanks, but I think I can handle the explanations. If he has a problem with anything, I’ll tell him to call you.”

  “Make sure you do. Are you okay?”

  I don’t want to look at him. “I…..sometimes I wonder if I should really be doing this.”

  “Investigating murders, you mean?”

  I can only nod down at my hands. “I appear to be a magnet for other people’s misfortune.”

  “Quite the contrary. You’re the vehicle for people to get some justice when evil criminals cause them misfortune. You’re on the right side of the law, and that’s about all any of us can ever hope to be.”

  I steal a look at him. “Really?”

  “Take me. I’m a cop.” He spreads his arms to display himself to me. “Do you consider me a magnet for other people’s misfortune?”

  “Of course not. You’re something as close to a guardian angel as we can get on Planet Earth.”

  “There you go,” he exclaims. “You didn’t kill Christopher. You aren’t the one who caused Simone misfortune and grief. You’re the person who will give her some peace and some closure by finding the person who did do it and making sure they get what they deserve.”

  I search the neighborhood outside. “I guess so.”

  “You’re tired. Go inside and go to bed. I’ll talk to you about the case tomorrow after we’ve both gotten a decent night’s rest.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to reply. He gets out and opens my door. Then he escorts me to the porch. He kisses me on the cheek. “Good night. Sleep tight.”

  I ease into the house as quietly as I can. Once I get inside, exhaustion and emotional turmoil weigh me down. I can’t bring myself to climb the stairs. I slip into the living room and slump on the couch.

  Another person dead. Another murder. Another friend shattered. Now I’m caught in the middle of it again. Every time someone winds up dead in West End, I promise myself I’ll never do this again. Every time, I do it. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t face the horror and emotional toll of investigating another death.

  Just then, footsteps descend the stairs and enter the room. “Hey, Mom. I thought I heard you come in. Was that Detective Graham who dropped you off?”

  I mutter down at the floor. “Yes.”

  He freezes in the doorway and stares at me. Then he sinks down next to me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about, sweetheart,” I grumble. “Someone got killed in town tonight, and what do you know? I was on the spot to find the body. Oh, wait. I didn’t find the body. The victim’s best friend found the body and now she’s in pieces.”

  He leans back and blows out a long breath. “Who died?”

  “It was Christopher Partridge, Simone’s friend. He got shot in her store while she was waiting to go out to dinner with him. She’s devastated.”

  “I’ll bet she is,” he remarks. “If he wasn’t so gay, I would have sworn those two were in love with each other.”

  “I think they were in love with each other. They were in love with each other as friends.”

  “I can understand that,” he replies. “They certainly loved each other. Anybody could see that.”

  I nod, too overwhelmed to say anything else.

  “You’re investigating, aren’t you, Mom?” he continues.

  “Simone asked me to, so yeah, I am. David asked me, too, so it looks like I’m stuck with it.”

  “You have to, Mom,” he exclaims. “The whole town is counting on you.”

  “Why should they count on me?” I return. “I’m not the Police. Isn’t that their job?”

  “That’s exactly why they want you to do it. You’re not the Police and it’s not your job. That’s what makes you so good. You do it because you care. That makes all the difference. No one is paying you to find out the truth. People trust you to do it with their best interests in mind. That means a lot more than a professional detective doing it.”

  I peer up at him. “That’s what David said.”

  “It’s true.” He squeezes my hand. “You’re their guardian angel. Why do you think Simone asked you to look into it? The victims need to know they have someone batting for them and that’s you.” He bends forward and kisses me on the forehead. “I’m proud of you, Mom. I’m proud that you’re the one that people count on to ask for help.”

  He strolls out of the room and back upstairs to his own room. He leaves me sitting there buried in my own thoughts. Maybe me being an investigator isn’t such a bad thing. The rest of the town doesn’t think so. Maybe it’s just the shock of finding Christopher’s body that sends me into turmoil. Finding a dead body always seems to have this effect on me.

  Maybe David is right about that, too, and I’ll feel better after I get a good night’s sleep.

  4

  I find Zack hard at work in the kitchen the next morning. He puts a plate of scrambled eggs and a cup of coffee in front of me. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us today, Mom.”

  “No, we don’t. I called Patty earlier. You and I are taking the day off of work today.”

  He whips around fast and his jaw drops. “We can’t, Mom! This is the busiest time of the year. Patty can’t run the store by herself.”

  “That’s why I got Simone Peretti to come in and help her out.” I take a swig of my coffee as much for effect as to bolster my nerves for what lies ahead. “She can’t work in her own store with it cordoned off as a crime scene, and a day working in someone else’s business will help take her mind off Christopher’s murder. Patty agreed to show her what to do, and you and I have something more important lined up.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re going down to Hartford to see your Grandma and Grandpa.”

  His face goes white as a sheet. “No. Not that. Anything but that.”

  “Yes, that.” I shovel the last bite egg into my mouth and stand up. “We haven’t visited them since we moved to West End, and I want to invite them to this New Years dinner I’m having.”

  He gapes at me in stunned horror. “Can’t you do that without me?”

  I square my shoulders at him. “This is your grandmother and grandfather we’re talking about. They won’t be around forever. The least you can do is visit them, and I’ll be flipped if I’m going down there to visit them alone. You’re coming with me, young man, and you’re going to like it. Now get your keys ‘cuz you’re driving.”

  I grab my coat. He follows in silence with his head bowed. I can’t blame him. I don’t really want to do this, either, but it has to be done. When I’m elderly and living in a retirement home, I want my children and grandchildren to come and visit me and invite me to their holiday events.

  We get in the car and don’t say anything all the way to Hartford. When we get out in front of the home, Zack throws back his shoulders. “All right. Let’s go.”

  “I hope you understand why I’m doing this, sweetheart,” I murmur as we walk down the halls.

  “I understand, and it’s a good thing to do. We put off visiting them for too long, and now that we’re here, I’m glad you made me come. I missed them. It will be good to see them for New Years Eve.”

  “Didn’t you have plans to go to the party with Gilly?” I ask. “Is that why you didn’t want to come?”

  “We did plan to go, but this is more important. I’m sure Gilly will agree.”

  “You can still go to the party,” I tell him. “I’m planning to go with David and Ariel after the dinner.”

  He brightens up. “Oh, good. Thanks, Mom.”

  We arrive at my parents’ apartment. It smells of disinfectant and powerful soaps. I don’t like that smell. I hope I never end up in one of these places. I hope I die in my bed at home.

  My mother spins around in her recliner when we walk in. Her mouth drops open and she throws out her arms. “Look who’s here! My girl! My God, look how big you’ve gotten, Zachary! How old are you now?”

  He colors. For a second, I fear he’ll run away. Then she folds him in her arms. “Hi, Grandma. It’s good to see you.”

  She pats his cheeks and exclaims over everything until we settle down on the couch. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s just in the other room,” my mother tells me. “He’ll be out in a second. He’ll be so pleased to see you. How’s life in the Great North Woods.”

  “We’re not in the woods, Mom,” I tell her. “We’re in West End. It’s a town.”

  “It was just an expression, sweetheart. Are you surviving?”

  “You can see we’re surviving.” I struggle to keep my voice steady. I can’t let her get under my skin. Is it just me, or do your parents get ten times more aggravating when you become an adult?

  “I meant are you making a living with that candy store of yours?” she counters. “I don’t know how you pay your bills that way. I always told you to go to graduate school.”

  “Yes, you did,” I mutter.

  “Mom’s doing really well,” Zack chimes in. “She’s making loads of money, and now that the holiday season is on, it takes three people working all day just to keep up with demand.”

  My mother’s eyes widen. “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” I reply. “It’s a very successful business, and I’m thinking of expanding to make my own candy. It went over really well at Christmas. I just need to figure out how to produce it on a mass scale.”

  “You be careful, sweetheart,” she warns. “You don’t want to get too big for your breeches.”

  “God forbid,” I mumble.

  I catch Zack smirking at me, but just then, my father shuffles in from another room. He frowns at me before he recognizes me. “Is that Margaret?”

  “Hi, Dad.” I get up to give him a hug. “How are you?”

  He throws himself into a chair. “Ugh! My feet are aching today. You didn’t drive all the way down here from West End to see us, did you? That is such a waste of gas. You shouldn’t have done it.”

  I roll my eyes to Heaven. “It was nothing, Dad. I wanted to see you and invite you and Mom to a New Years Eve dinner I’m giving.”

  He looks around him. “What—here?”

  “No, at my house.” I slow myself down to enunciate every syllable. “We would drive you up to West End. You still haven’t seen it or where we live or anything.”

  He retracts his head between his shoulders. “I don’t like to travel.”

  “It’s hardly travel, Dad,” I tell him. “It’s a half hour drive. You’ll be there in no time.”

  “I don’t like to stay out too late,” he grumbles. “A New Years Eve party goes until after midnight. That’s too late for me. I always go to bed before nine.”

  “This isn’t a party,” I explain. “It’s just a dinner. It will be long over before nine, and you can spend the night at my house. We’ll drive you home the next morning. Zack and his girlfriend Gilly will be there, and you can meet my boyfriend David and his….”

  “Boyfriend!” my mother shrieks. “You have a boyfriend?”

  Hot blood rushes to my cheeks. “Yes, Mom. I have a boyfriend.”

  “Who is he? What does he do for a living? Why haven’t I heard about this before now?”

  I take a deep breath. I knew this would be bad. I just didn’t realize how bad. “His name is David Graham. He’s a Police Detective and you’re hearing about it now.”

  She makes a face and averts her gaze. “I don’t like it. I don’t trust my daughter to date a man I’ve never even met.”

  “If you come to the dinner, you will meet him. Then you can make up your own mind whether he’s worthy of me or not. What do you say?”

  I catch Zack suppressing laughter again. The rat! He’s laughing at me. My mother perks up her ears at the idea of meeting David. “All right. We’ll come.”

  “Speak for yourself,” my father fires back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  My mother extends her hand to me. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll come. Just call me to arrange the time to pick us up.”

  “I will.”

  Zack and I beat a hasty retreat. He pauses in the car with his hands on the steering wheel. “Boyfriend! You have a boyfriend?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Mom! You Jezebel!”

  I punch him in the shoulder. “Knock it off! You were just as bad when I first started seeing David.”

  He coughs to cover up his laughter while he starts the motor and backs out of the parking lot. “Boyfriend! You have a boyfriend?”

  “Will you stop saying that? Jesus, you sound like a parrot.”

  He snickers one last time. “I’m gonna be laughing about this for weeks. Just wait until I tell Gilly.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I snarl.

  He merges onto the highway. “I think I better give Detective Graham a call when I get back to West End. I think he needs to know about this.”

  “I think you’ve got a death wish. That’s what I think.”

  I spend the rest of the trip staring out the window and fuming. Now that I stuck my foot in it and set my mind on having a New Years Eve dinner, I better start planning. It’s only a few more days until New Years, and I’m working almost every day at the store.

  I have to get cracking inviting whoever I’m going to invite. Holy cripes, who am I going to invite? I already invited my parents and Zack and Gilly and David and Ariel. That makes six, plus me is seven. If I invite anyone else, it will turn into a pre-party party at my house before everyone troops off to town to see the fireworks—everyone except my parents, that is.

  I’ll invite Simone. She’ll need people around her to smooth over Christopher’s absence. She probably intended to spend New Years with him and now he’s gone. I could invite Patty Matthews, too, just in case she isn’t spending it with her own family.

  I don’t really want to invite anyone else. I don’t want this to turn into a massive extravaganza of excitement and mayhem. That would be my worst nightmare. This dinner is already turning into something way bigger than I intended, and I haven’t even started planning it yet.

  Zack creeps down Main Street and we both strain our necks to look into the store. We can’t see Patty or Simone through the sea of heads. “I better get in there,” Zack murmurs. “They might need help. Are you coming, Mom?”

  I spot a Police cruiser parked in front of Simone’s shop. “I think I better go check in with David first and see how the case is coming along. He asked me to help him, after all.”

  “Go on, then.” He opens my door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” I tell him. “You have my number. Text me if you need me to come help out in the store.”

  He saunters over to the candy store and I head for Simone’s. I find David near the outline on the floor. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” he asks.

  “According to all accounts, I am at work,” I reply. “I’m hard at work as West End’s resident guardian angel. Everybody is counting on me to investigate this case, so here I am, reporting for duty.” I give him my best military salute. “What have you got?”

  “Nothing since last night. I was hoping you would turn up so you could come with me to interview Simone. You said she was a mess last night. I want you to take the lead on this. She’ll be more comfortable talking to you.”

 

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