"I'll drive it," Ange said. "And then Reina can take me back.” She furrowed her brows. "Let me know if you don't feel better in the morning, because Nick will absolutely have no problem paying you a house call. I assume you don't feel like spending hours in a waiting room with people dissecting everything your aunt ever did."
"It's all insane," Harper protested. "As if Violet Walker had ever done anything but good in this community. She was practically the guardian angel of Willowmere."
"Yeah, well," Ange said. "You know people. Memories only last so long, and whatever they heard or saw or thought last sticks in the mind."
Reina wrapped me in my coat. "Let's get this girl home."
Back in my bedroom, Cosmo circled me.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Checking you out. You were in a much better shape when you set off."
I mumbled, "Maybe I should have listened to you."
"Naturally," he retorted. "But what makes you realize the wisdom of my words?"
"I tried to do the whole 'divine the meaning' thing, you know."
"I don't," he said.
"You told me I would feel it when I was getting close to something. So, I juggled. And listened to my gut."
"And what did your gut say?"
"That I'm fit to drop."
"I see that."
I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I could have sworn that the cat was purring softly.
A lullaby, maybe?
Whatever it was, it worked like a charm.
I woke up with a clear head, a clear mind, and a sense of purpose.
While Cosmo and I enjoyed breakfast—pancakes and berries for me, a can of tuna for him—I told him everything.
"So, you dropped the ball, literally, on a couple of things?”
“But I caught it when I mentioned silencing Jake or money as possible motives. And then, as soon as the words ‘love’, ‘hate’ and ‘revenge’ fell—boom. I almost fainted from the pain. Which makes me believe that was it." Too bad those were also the most common motives for murder.
"But before that, you caught the ball?" he inquired.
"I did, although it might have simply been because I was getting better. Tossing one ball isn't really that hard."
I produced the stress ball that Reina had gifted me. She had decided I needed it. I weighed it in one hand while I speared the last bite of pancake with the other. Then I put down the fork, swallowed the delicious morsel, and demonstrated my throwing and catching skills.
To be fair, they still needed a little bit of work. But because I'd been smart enough to put aside my plate, the ball only bounced off an empty saucer. No harm done.
I wiped my mouth and folded my napkin.
"What you and I, my friend, are going to do now," I said, "is search the garden for clues."
He sat upright and licked the last drops of tuna off his whiskers.
"What kind of clues?"
