Lending a Paw(31)

“They asked me a lot of questions,” she said dully. “Lots more than they asked either of you.”

That was weird. “Why would they have more questions for you?”

She fiddled with the collar of her pale pink polo shirt. “I’m not sure. Say, the Tigers won last night, did you hear? Ten innings.”

Josh looked at me. I looked at him. Holly was not a sports fan.

“What were they asking, Holly?” Josh pulled one of his sodas out of his pants and pushed it in her direction. “What did they want to know?”

“Oh, nothing.”

I popped the top of the can and turned the opening in her direction. Holly always talked when she had a drink. Didn’t matter if it was coffee, tea, water, soda, or an adult beverage. To Holly, a fluid in her hand meant she was supposed to be talking. “Here you go,” I said. “Drink up.”

One sip was all it took. “Stan Larabee was my cousin,” she said.

I frowned. “What kind of cousin?” Couldn’t be a first cousin—the age gap was too wide.

“No, no. Second cousin, twice removed. Something like that.”

A muscle at the back of my neck loosened. “He must have had lots of distant cousins. Everybody does. Six degrees of cousins, right?”

Which I thought was fairly funny, but Holly wasn’t listening. “It’s not that, well, not directly. It’s because . . .” She took another drink. “It’s because I asked him . . .” Another gulp. “I asked him to lend me some money.”

Josh went still. “You did what?”

Holly clutched the can. “You know how Brian and I want to buy our own house. That’s why he’s out in Wyoming working at that mine. He’s making good money, really good, but there’s this house I just fell in love with and we don’t have enough for a down payment and I thought . . . I thought maybe . . .”

“Everybody knows that Stan Larabee doesn’t lend money,” Josh said. “Not to anyone.”

Didn’t lend money, I thought. Past tense. So very, very past tense.

“Yeah,” Holly said. “But since we were cousins, I thought maybe this time it’d be different.”

Josh made a rude noise. “No wonder the police were asking you questions. Bet old Stan kept that begging letter in a file.” He grinned. “Does Brian know you asked Larabee for money?”

Her eyes went wide. “No! He’d hit the roof. He’s coming home for the Fourth of July. Don’t you tell him, Josh. Don’t you dare! It’ll ruin his whole trip home.”

“It’s going to cost you,” Josh said, his grin going wider. “There’s this whole stack of data entry I’ve been putting off, and—”

“Time to get back to work,” I said. “See you two later.”

I left them to their wrangling. If past experience was any guide, Josh would try to get a little too much out of Holly, she’d retaliate by reminding him that she was a neighbor to the attractive young woman he was thinking hard about dating, and they’d call it a draw.

So Holly had tried to get a loan from Stan and failed. Who else, I wondered, had done the same thing?

• • •

After work I stopped to pick up some fresh whitefish for dinner. The moment I unwrapped the white butcher paper, Eddie was on the back of the dining area’s bench seat, sniffing and twitching his whiskers.

“Pulled out of Lake Michigan a few hours ago,” I told him, “so quit criticizing. It’s not going to get any fresher unless you go get it yourself, and I really don’t see that happening. It would require a little too much exertion on your part. And it’s for me, not you, anyway.”

Eddie sat down and looked at me.

“Okay, that was a little harsh.” I kissed his head. “Sorry. It’s just been a weird day.”

“Mrr?”

It sounded like a question, so I started talking as I dipped the fish into an egg wash. “For one thing, Stephen’s a mess. He’s never a mess, and I’m wondering if Josh was right, that the police think maybe Stephen killed Stan to get the money. But why would he do that? The library could use more money, sure, but we’re doing okay.”

Eddie started digging at the upholstery with his claws.

“Hey, quit.” Since my hands were all fishy, I pushed at him with my forearm. “And Holly’s a mess, too,” I said, laying the fish into a bowl of breading Kristen had sent me home with the previous night. “I wish she wasn’t so nervous about telling her husband she asked Stan for a loan. Maybe Brian will be mad for a minute, but he’s a good guy. He’ll understand.” Or . . . would he? He seemed nice, but how well did I really know him?