“Well, I know she’d been interviewing Harriet for a series of articles on collectors.”
“That’s what she said. And she was supposed to meet up with Harriet that night, which might explain our two coffee mugs, but when she saw the flashing lights and commotion, she turned around and left.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that a bit odd? As a reporter, wouldn’t you think she’d want to be in the thick of the action? Getting the story?”
Serrano nodded, but he was still watching Birch Kunes. I felt like I was talking to a teenager engrossed in a video game.
“Serrano, there’s something else I need to tell you. Chip Rosenthal has some kind of major development deal going on. Apparently Sophie also owned prime waterfront acreage along the Delaware River. It blows my mind that she was a commercial property owner, yet never wrote a will.”
I made a mental note that I needed to nag Patsy to write one for Claire’s sake. I knew that mine and Joe’s left everything to Sarah, but what if she was gone, too? I should update it with a provision for Jasper, leaving a portion to Eleanor. She would take care of him.
I felt Serrano start to move on, and I touched his sleeve. The well-worn leather felt cool under my fingers. “Chip’s hired Marybeth as the broker for the development. I mean, inheriting my store was one thing, but this is big time. More motive for murder, wouldn’t you say?”
“You’re really stuck on this guy, aren’t you?” He looked at his sleeve, and I could feel my cheeks grow warm. I dropped my hand.
“I checked the file again, Daisy. Nothing suspicious about the old lady’s death. No forced entry.”
“Well, there wouldn’t be if it was Chip. He lived there.”
“There was one thing, though . . .”
“What?”
“I couldn’t find an obituary of that stepdaughter who died abroad. No mention at all. It’s like she vanished off the face of the planet.”
At that moment, everyone else crowded around us. Martha groaned and pressed a hand to her back.
“Tired?” I asked.
“Tired isn’t the word for it. I think I’ve lost the will to live.”
“Fancy a drink, Detective?” Eleanor bestowed her best cat smile on him.
Serrano smiled back, a lazy smile, and I felt my heart twist. “Well, I was off duty as of 6 p.m., so yes, I will accept your intriguing invitation.”
“I do have some rather special absinthe back at home, as a matter of fact.”
He laughed. “I’ll just have a beer, thanks.”
Eleanor slipped her hand into his. “Then come on over to the dark side.”
I winced and said a little prayer for Serrano’s safety as she drew him toward the exit.
“And I’m starving,” Angus announced. “Let’s go out for pizza.”
Ardine Smalls was standing at the edge of our group, twisting the handles of her large old-fashioned black purse between her fingers.
“Smalls, you coming?” he barked.
She hesitated for a moment, the way she’d done with me, as if she couldn’t believe he meant it.
Angus strode over and threw an arm around her shoulders in a crushing half hug. “Pop’s Pizza and a cold beer would hit the spot right about now. Come on, missy.”