“Too much late-night television, Daisy?” Eleanor drew her fingers idly through the candy, making the hard pieces clink against the cut glass. She glanced at the bowl in disdain. “Is it my imagination, or do we get less treats than we used to?”
“Funny you should mention that,” I said as I poured four cups of coffee, the memory of the coveted toffee bars at Cyril’s fresh in my mind. “I saw Cyril Mackey in the barber shop this morning, getting a haircut.”
I waited a moment for the collective gasp. “He was wearing a jacket that I’m sure I’ve seen somewhere before.” It wasn’t long before I saw the comprehension dawn on Eleanor’s face.
She turned on Martha. “You gave Teddy’s clothes away to the church rummage sale at the beginning of June, right?”
Martha looked flushed. “Hell’s bells. It’s so damn hot in here. Don’t you have the air-conditioning on, Daisy?”
I was wearing a cardigan over my T-shirt and I could clearly see the goose bumps on Eleanor’s slender arms.
We all waited.
Martha slammed a hand down on the counter. “All right, give me a break. The man needed something better to wear than those awful old rags.”
Eleanor wasn’t afraid of a little confrontation. “No one’s arguing about that. I’m talking about the treats.”
Martha glared at her. “I have a perfect right to distribute my treats as I see fit.”
Things got kind of tense until Patsy spoke up. “Hey, yeah, so like Betty said, she’s going to use me for all the auctions from now on. Maybe I’ll be able to afford to buy a place for me and Claire someday instead of living down in my sister’s basement. And if Betty hires me full-time, I could quit the diner.”
“That’s great!” Martha beamed at her.
I chose my words carefully. “Yes, it’s wonderful to have plans, Patsy, but what about when Angus comes back? He’ll want to take over the bid calling again, I’m sure.”
I didn’t miss the shared glances.
Pity mixed with kindness.
“Anyone else going to the preliminary hearing tomorrow?” I asked.
Patsy cleared her throat. “Daisy, sweetheart, mostly everyone in town has accepted the fact by now that Angus could be the murderer.”
Everyone except you, that is. Her unspoken words hung in the air.
“You don’t have to tell me that,” I snapped. “Even his wife doesn’t go to visit him or call him anymore.” I turned on Eleanor. “Are you in this majority, too?”
Eleanor shrugged. “I’m sorry, Daisy, but he was the last person to see Jimmy alive. He has a history of fighting, he was drunk, and his fingerprints are all over the murder weapon. And no other hard facts have come to light.”
Martha squeezed my hand. “Something else you might not know yet. One of the Backsteads’ neighbors saw a strange car pull up in front of the auction house that Saturday morning. People are saying that Angus quickly got rid of the pens to lose the evidence.”
“Sometimes youse just gots to face facts.” Patsy brushed her palms together briskly as if to beat off any crumbs from our nonexistent treats.
“What does Joe say?” Eleanor asked.
I gripped the counter. “Joe is usually supportive of anything I do, but he wants me to let it go, too. But I don’t see how you can desert someone who was a good friend to all of us. How can you be so ready to think the worst of him?”
“I’ll go with you to the hearing, Daisy,” Martha said loyally.
Eleanor drained the last of her coffee. “I would, but I have a reporter from Philadelphia Magazine coming out here tomorrow morning. They want to do a feature piece on me and my store.”
“That’s awesome!” Patsy exclaimed.
And with that, the conversation veered away from any further mention of Angus.
*
“I didn’t sleep well that night. A particularly gruesome nightmare woke me at 3 a.m. Someone had skewered Fiona Adams through the throat with a stainless steel fountain pen as big as a hunting spear. As her blood spurted over a length of vintage Irish linen, Ramsbottom grabbed Jasper, put the dog in the back of his patrol car, and drove away down River Road. I ran alongside the car screaming at him to stop until I couldn’t keep up anymore and watched in despair as the taillights disappeared into the darkness.
I opened my eyes, gasping for breath until the familiar shapes of the bedroom furniture materialized and I heard Joe’s sleepy sigh at being disturbed. I fell back against the pillows, trying to calm my galloping heartbeat. It must have been because of everything that had happened lately that those feelings of terror and helplessness I’d thought were buried long ago had crawled back up to the surface.