“It’s a long shot, but do you have any idea who’d want to kill Timothy Boyd?”
My skin prickled. “Who?”
“He lives – lived in one of the new houses at the edge of town.”
“No idea, sorry.”
I forced myself to retreat at a normal speed. Just because I’d seen Candice and the victim in a tense situation didn’t have to mean anything.
My phone stayed silent until close to noon the next day, which I took as a good sign. Like me, Ange had bounced back from the grisly discovery and now ran her yoga class for the age-group of 50 plus in the library. I watched from afar, while I took the returns cart around and put the books back into circulation.
I balanced on a sturdy stepping stool to slide an Agatha Christie mystery into its accustomed slot when the buzzing started. Since my phone was next to my computer, whoever messaged me, had to wait a few seconds. The buzzing stopped, only to start again. And again. I almost fell off the stool in my haste to reach my phone.
Cosmo sat next to it. His tail thumped the desk.
I scanned the screen. “It’s Rick. And Candice. And Rick again, twice.”
I opened the first message.
“Can we talk? Please? We’re in trouble. Rick”
The second message sent a spill down my spine.
“Sorry to bother you, but I don’t know who else to turn to. The police think I’m a murderer. C”
“Impossible.” I must have said it aloud, because Ange snapped out of her warrior pose, gave me one good look, and abandoned her group.
“What’s up?” she asked.
I pointed at the screen.
She gaped. “Holy guacamole. What does Rick have to say?”
“I haven’t opened the other messages yet.” My chest tightened.
The yoga ladies came closer, either driven by genuine concern or, more likely, curiosity.
Ange waved them off. “Why don’t you finish the lesson with your meditation?” That said, she pressed the phone into my hand. “Do it now. Who knows, maybe it was all a misunderstanding and he’s calling off the dogs, or in this case, you.”
“I wish.” I scanned the two remaining messages. They were short, identical, and devoid of information. All I read was,
“Please help her, Bex.”
“We can’t very well say no,” Ange mused.
“We?”
“Sweetheart, this isn’t a situation you want to handle on your own. I’m coming with you.”
Cosmo thumped his tail again, indicating that he planned on joining us too.
“But what about the library?” I protested.
“Close it for a family emergency, or ask Reina to fill in for today, or there’s always Ms. Vine.”
Cosmo’s blink indicated his preference.
“Do you know a quiet café in Cannon Hill?” I asked Ange.
