As Amie watched him open a cabinet, she thought back to the fury in his face as he ordered Madeline out of the bookshop. Thatman was almost unrecognizable now as he withdrew two mugs from the cabinet, placing them down on the counter with a softclink.
“I actually, um …” She steeled herself, working hard to override the part of her brain that was ordering her not to pry into other people’s business. “I saw you, at the memorial, yell … er,speakingto Madeline. The owner of Eons?”
“You heard that?” Andrew looked shamefaced. “I was trying not to ruin the memorial by making a dramatic scene, but I think I lost my temper a little bit.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Amie assured him, her people-pleasing tendencies automatically kicking in. “Honestly, it was the most calm I’ve ever seen someone be while losing their temper.”
Andrew chuckled at that, opening a different cabinet. “Chamomile okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” Amie was still reluctant to pry, but she could almost hear Ziya in the back of her head, pushing her to take advantage of the situation. “Can I ask what Madeline did?”
Andrew dropped the tea bags into the mugs, then moved to the other side of the table. He sat down with a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair.
“She hasn’t done anything, as far as I know for sure,” he admitted. “She’s been wanting to buy the store from Savannah for a long time now. Says she wants to turn it into an extension of her café.” His jaw tightened. “When I saw her, it just … it made me realize that she’s likely happy to have a chance now. Maybe it was petty of me, but I just didn’t want her to feel hopeful. I’m not sure I can look at her again without getting angry, knowing she thinks she might benefit from my wife’s death.”
“That’s understandable,” Amie said gently. “Savannah didn’t want to sell the store?”
“No,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “God rest her soul, she was determined to keep that bookshop running, even when the costs were getting far higher than the profit. I tried to talk her intoselling. Tried anything I could think of. But Savannah wouldn’t budge.”
Amie studied the man as her mind drifted back to the time loop. Some afternoons, before she’d go to the park to “find” Hallie’s ring, Amie would sit in Eons and nurse a tea while doing a crossword puzzle on her phone. On numerous occasions she’d seen Andrew interact with the barista in a way that made her assume the caféwas out of whatever he’d been hoping to order. It was the sort of interaction that one would forget five minutes after seeing it, unless one saw it again and again and again. Amie herself never thought much of it, even after seeing it again and again and again. But with Savannah dead, and Andrew and Madeline’s shared desire for Savannah to sell the store made clear …
“Did you ever speak with Madeline about her wanting to buy the bookstore?” Amie asked. “Behind … er, separate from Savannah?”
Andrew hesitated, a muscle in his forehead twitching.
“I … did,” he finally said, sounding ashamed. “That’s how I know how much she really wanted the store. Savannah wouldn’t listen to my advice, but I’d talk with Madeline and encourage her to keep trying. Suggest ways she could possibly convince Savannah to sell.”
“When was the last time you talked to Madeline about that?”
“Hm. A few weeks ago? I went to talk to her on Monday, just to check in, but she wasn’t at the café.”
Amie resisted a smile of self-satisfaction as her hunch was confirmed. Andrew hadn’t gone to Eons on Monday to buy something. He’d been looking for Madeline.
The widower’s eyes had gone dark as he gazed at a spot on the table in front of him. “Maybe that made me a bad husband, going behind Savannah’s back like that. I don’t know.”
“I’m sure you were doing it in her best interest,” Amie said reassuringly.
“It was inourbest interest, I thought,” Andrew said. “It wasn’t just about the money. The store was her whole life. It took up somuch of her time. She’d never accept my offers to help; it washerbusiness. She’d come home every night too tired to even have a conversation.”
He looked up at Amie, frowning. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about her like this.”
“It’s okay,” Amie said. “It’s clear you loved her very much. I’m sure she didn’t want to make you unhappy.”
“She didn’t,” he agreed, standing as the kettle let out a loudclickto signal the completion of its job. “We figured out some compromises. Coming home by seven was one of them; she used to stay at the store even later before we agreed on that. She’d also agreed to not work on Sundays, let go of a few part-time employees, and feature more bestsellers in the window.” He chuckled sadly as he poured hot water into the mugs. “She disliked modern romance books but couldn’t deny that they sold the best.”
Amie was slowly distilling everything he’d just said. “Did she come home at seven on Monday?”
The small smile on his face faded, and Amie squeezed her lips tightly together to prevent herself from adding, “I’m sorry! You don’t have to answer that! Ignore me!”
“Yes and no,” Andrew said. “It’s very strange.”
He turned toward the living room, eyes unfocused as he returned to the memory. “I was reading by the window. Itwasseven—I’d checked the clock just before looking out the window. I saw her walking up the steps of the building, so I went to set the table for dinner. When she didn’t come in, I assumed she’d forgotten something at the store and went back. I ate without her, figuring she’d eat whenever she got home. But she never …” He stopped, clearing his throat. The circles under his eyes seemed to grow deeper.
“I fell asleep waiting for her to come home,” he said. “And in the morning …”
“I’m sorry,” Amie cut in, not wanting him to feel pressured to say any more. She already knew what came next. She insteadmoved backward through his story. “Do you know why she might’ve gone back to the store?”
Andrew picked up the mugs, depositing one in front of Amie before sitting back down with his. “I just assumed she’d forgotten to do something and went back. I think the police are leaning toward the theory that she surprised a thief mid-robbery.”
