Amie winced. Ziya’s tone was neutral, but the criticism behind the words was clear to her. Thankfully, Oakland didn’t seem to notice—or care.
“You seem to have most of the story,” Oakland said, raising an eyebrow with amusement. “What brings you to me, then?”
“Did you hear about Savannah’s murder?” Amie knew, from Madeline, that he had, but wanted to see his reaction.
To his credit, Oakland sobered. “I did,” he said, carefully sitting up. “Terrible tragedy. She had a lot of life left in her.”
“How did you find out about it?”
“Heard it reported on the radio.”
“On Tuesday?”
“I believe so. She was found that morning, wasn’t she?” Oakland tilted his head, chuckling lightly. “This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Amie. Am I being interrogated?”
As Amie hesitated, he continued:
“Oh.” He nodded knowingly. “I see. Doing a bit of amateur sleuthing, are we? I wanted to buy the bookstore, but she refused, therefore I have a motive to have killed her.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a good deduction. A little weak, considering I didn’t want the bookstorethatmuch, but I suppose I have no way of proving that.”
“You did go out of your way to punish her for trying to use you for free advice,” Ziya pointed out. “Seems like you had a good amount of malice toward her.”
“Ah.” Oakland waved a hand dismissively. “That wasn’t malice; just me having some fun. She thought she was being so sneaky, speaking in hypotheticals and acting like we were good friends. It was amusing, and I got a good story out of it, that’s all. I certainly didn’t wish her any ill.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “Also,” he added, “it wouldn’t make much sense for me to have killed her, seeing as how she was planning on selling the store to me.”
Amie and Ziya glanced at each other, confused.
“That’s interesting,” Amie said slowly, turning back to the man. “Because I was told that the store was sold to Madeline, the owner of Eons Café.”
Oakland narrowed his eyes. “Who told you that?”
“Madeline. She said the final paperwork came in after you visited her on Tuesday.”
“Damn.” Oakland snapped his fingers, looking mildly disappointed. “I lied to the man for nothing. Strange he didn’t know …”
“Who did you lie to?” Amie asked, overlapping with Ziya saying, “Did you just lie tous?”
“Yes, my apologies,” Oakland said, responding to Ziya’s significantly louder query first. “All’s fair in business, I always say. I knew Savannah was planning on selling to the young caféowner.” He winced. “She told me herself, very angrily and at an ear-piercing decibel.”
“Why was she angry?” Amie asked.
“She heard the podcast.” Oakland let out a half-hearted sigh. “I didn’t expect the game to last forever. It was fun while it lasted. What I hadn’t predicted was that she’d change her mind about selling the bookstore. She told me she’d decided to sell, and had been considering me as a buyer, but no longer wanted anything to do with me.”
A wry smile crossed his face. “I have to admit, itwasa poor business move on my part. Never good to burn bridges, even if you’re having fun doing so. I tried to reason with her, but it wasclear she’d only come by to yell at me, so I just let her tire herself out before she finally left.”
“When was this?” Amie asked.
“Two, three weeks ago? When I heard of her passing, I went to speak with Madeline to try to find out if the sale had gone through. Thought I might still have a chance to buy the place off of Savannah’s widower. Especially when he came by today.”
Amie straightened. “Andrew Harlow visited you today?”
“He called me,” Oakland said. “Found my business card in Savannah’s effects. Said he was told I might be interested in buying the store. I invited him over this afternoon to chat.”
“And you lied to him, too,” Ziya said, accusatory. “You told him Savannah was planning on selling the store to you.”
Oakland shrugged, an unconvincingly bashful look on his face. “All’s fair,” he repeated. “Not my fault Savannah didn’t communicate with her husband.”
“She wanted to surprise him,” Amie said, surprising herself with how vehemently she was defending Savannah Harlow. “And he’s inmourning. You tried to manipulate a man who just lost his wife.”
