“Not that I’m surprised,” I told Edwina. “It’s understandable that she’d be interested in what’s going on next door. Nick was her neighbor for five years, she said. And not just that, but she owns the duplex. I wonder how hard it’s going to be for her to rent out that other half after someone’s been shot in it?”
Zachary was, as far as I knew, still crashing with friends after his falling out with his mother. It might be something for him. I didn’t know his feelings about cats—especially so many of them—but he did seem to enjoy Edwina, so maybe he wouldn’t mind Patches and her friends occasionally stopping by, either. And I could probably rely on him to help Mrs. Miller with her groceries, the way Nick had done.
“I’ll have to keep it in mind for him,” I said. “After we see how the investigation goes. Wouldn’t want him to accidentally rent from a murderer, after all.”
Edwina didn’t answer, but she heaved a little sigh.
“Yes, I’m aware that there’s no reason to think she’s guilty. But most people are killed by someone they know, and she was right next door. It should at least be considered.”
And Mendoza—or Lieutenant Sam Copeland—was undoubtedly considering it.
I squeezed my eyes shut as mortification hit again, and then opened them so I could see where I was going. “I can’t believe he caught me sitting in front of his house like some kind of stalker. That’s even worse than Mrs. Miller catching me driving past the crime scene.”
Especially when I knew that this was the very reason I had kept myself from looking up his address in the first place. I didn’t want to find myself in the position of being caught behaving like an enamored teen. Women probably threw themselves at him all the time. Looking the way he did, it was inevitable. And I was damned if I was going to be one of them.
“In my defense,” I added, because I felt defensive, “I didn’t know it was his house. I thought it was Megan’s. Although that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to get caught.”
Edwina yawned.
“You’re a big help,” I told her bitterly. “I’m over here having a crisis, and you’re taking a nap.”
Although running my thoughts past the dog did help. There was something about hearing them out loud that let me process what I’d learned, but without the pressure of another person judging my conclusions. Edwina was many things, but she wasn’t judgmental.
“He said he’d tell me how he knows Megan,” I continued, “but that I have enough information to figure it out on my own. So let’s see if we can’t.”
Edwina shifted slightly, getting more comfortable.
“She’s his babysitter,” I said, “obviously. And it wasn’t just a one-time thing. She and the kid have spent enough time together to get comfortable. So she’s someone Mendoza trusts.”
He wouldn’t leave his son with someone he didn’t. That, at least, I was sure of. Being a cop, he was probably extra careful about anyone he brought around his kid.
“But she’s also the bookkeeper—or receptionist or secretary—at the Body Shop. So does he take his car there, and that’s how they met?”
I thought about it for a second. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he does, actually. It’s near his house, and all I’ve ever seen him drive, are American-made cars.”
So that would explain how he’d met Megan, but it didn’t explain why he trusted her, especially if she’d only worked there a month or so, the way Jacquie had said.
“Maybe she was the one who turned him onto the money laundering,” I speculated. “Someone got the police involved, and it might have been her. That would build some extra trust more quickly, I assume.”
Whether it was enough to overcome Mendoza’s protectiveness of his child was another story. And besides?—
I shook my head. “No, that doesn’t make any sense. A month wouldn’t be enough time for Mendoza to trust her with Elias, and it also wouldn’t be enough time for Megan to figure out the whole mob connection and get the police involved. Besides, how long has Mendoza been working at Sambuca, anyway?”
It was more than three weeks since I had heard from him, so if it had been that entire time, that coincided pretty accurately with the time Megan had worked at the Body Shop.
The answer, when it came to me, was so obvious I almost laughed.
“She’s a cop,” I said aloud. “She has to be. Mendoza’s undercover at Sambuca, and Megan’s undercover at the Body Shop. They’re partners.”
It all fit. The way Nick and Sal had been nervous around her. The way she’d touched Nick’s arm that first day, like she was trying to calm him down. She probably thought he was going to blow her cover.
The way she’d gone with Sal to the bank, as if to protect him—or the money. No wonder he trusted her above his many burly mechanics.
And if she was Mendoza’s partner on the case, then of course she’d know Elias. Of course she’d babysit for him. She was covering Mendoza’s undercover shift and keeping his ex-wife off his back, allowing him to have the morning with his son.
“God,” I said, “I’m stupid.”
Edwina made a sound that might have been agreement or might have been the beginning of a snore.
