Mike smiled. “Do you have coffee?”
“I’ll make a pot.” I laid a hand on Wes’ shoulder as I stood. “Be right back.” He nodded, looking slightly shell-shocked. I couldn’t blame him. I squeezed his shoulder before heading for the kitchen and suddenly clocking the aroma of Italian food again. A dish was covered with foil and a breadbasket sat beside it. I peeled back a corner on the Pyrex dish and the scent of freshly baked lasagna wafted up at me as my stomach did a wee gurgle.
Hot tears burned behind my eyes as I realized Wes had not only cleaned my entire apartment but he’d also made a gorgeous meal for us to enjoy before all this shit came raining down on him. Worry churned in my gut. I pushed the foil back down and peeled back the warm towel on the breadbasket. They were the yummiest looking cheesy garlic rolls I’d ever seen. I let out a growl of frustration as I walked over to the coffeepot.
The front door opened and Cassidy came back inside just as I’d brought the coffee over to the table. I passed it around as Cass retook his seat. “Sorry about that,” he said. “That was the detective who is handling the homicide Marigold Bishop apparently witnessed.” He looked at Mike. “He cleared up a fewthings and promised to work with us as we try to solve the Eli Goldfarb case.”
“Who the hell is Eli Goldfarb?” I asked, tired of their questions. My gut told me Wes had nothing to do with this bullshit.
“All we can tell you is that Eli Goldfarb is a case Mike and I are working on,” Cassidy said. “It relates to the man who was murdered—Abraham Feldman—because he’s the victim’s son-in-law.”
I stared at them and then looked back at Wes’ blank expression. It was easy to tell that neither name meant anything to him. Cassidy who was watching Wes, obviously saw the same thing.
“Neither name rings a bell, Mr. Chaudry?”
Wes immediately shook his head. “No. I told you, I don’t know those names and I never met them.”
“You’re sure?” Mike asked. He tapped the sketch. “This man looks like you.”
“I know,” Wes said, shaking his head. “But a lot of people look like me. It doesn’t mean I killed anyone, Detectives.”
They asked the bog-standard questions about Wes’ whereabouts at the time of the murder but with no real reference points like work, or friends he might have seen, he couldn’t answer them.
They sat back in their chairs, studying him for a second. Cassidy leaned forward and picked up the sketch, refolding it and sliding it back into his pocket, then turned to Mike. “I guess we don’t have any more questions at this time, right, partner?” When Mike nodded, Cass looked back at us and offered a sincere smile. “We’re sorry to have inconvenienced both of you.”
When he and Mike stood, so did Wes and I. Cassidy held out a hand to Wes. “Sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Chaudry. By the way, I don’t have an address to reach you in case we have follow up questions.”
“Wes will be stayin’ with me, Cassidy. If ya need to talk to him again, this is where he’ll be.”
Cassidy stared for a few seconds before nodding slowly. “Good enough, then. See you later.” He looked at Wes. “If we have more questions we’ll call you.”
“Of course,” Wes said. “Good night, Detectives.”
“Good night.”
I walked them to the front door. “Call me if ya want to talk to Wes again, Cassidy. I’ll make sure he has a lawyer present.” I wanted them to know if they were going to accuse Wes of murder based solely on a four-year-old’s memory, I’d be making sure my friend had counsel present.
Surprisingly, Cassidy and Mike both smiled. “I’m glad, Patsy,” Mike said. “It’s good that you want to be a loyal friend.”
I smiled back, glad the lawyer remark didn’t go down the wrong way. “Thanks, guys,” I said, sincerely. “Night.”
“Good night, Patsy,” Cassidy said.
I watched them walk away before shutting the door.
Wes was in the kitchen, both hands braced on the kitchen bench, head hung low. He lifted his head and looked at me for several long seconds before straightening up. His eyes were wet with unshed tears.
“I swear I never killed anyone, Patsy.”
I stepped closer, opened my arms and wrapped him up in them. His arms immediately pulled me in as he laid his head onmine. The tickle of his soft beard on my ear sent heat rolling over and through me. “I know ya didn’t, Wes,” I whispered against the side of his head.
His arms tightened as he pulled me closer. The scent of my bodywash on his large, warm body made my own react in ways it probably shouldn’t. The way he dwarfed me was probably comical.
“How can you be so sure of me, Patsy?” He loosened his hold but didn’t drop his arms as he leaned back to look down into my face. The longing in his eyes took me by surprise.
“I believe in ya.” When he slid his hand around my neck, I swayed, feeling suddenly weak at the knees.
“I can’t believe it. You hardly know me.”
