“It must be useful to have a café in the building.”
“Oh no, they nip out to our coffee stall. You need a breath of fresh air once in a while.”
“I’m sure you do.” Ange scanned the floor again, for good measure. “If the napkin ring turns up, would you give me a call?”
“I sure will, honey. I’ve got your number right here in the system.” The woman crossed her fingers, for good luck.
“Thank you.”
We left the building with a sense of elation. Only one thing confused me. “Where did you get that receipt?” I asked Ange.
“That’s a real one. I bought the napkin ring when you and Reina were running around and put it in my purse. I’m only glad the woman didn’t find it suspicious that I’d add such a tiny thing to my delivery, or that it had been combined with Candice’s.”
“You have a trustworthy aura, and I imagine the police tries to keep the names of suspects quiet until they’ve amassed more evidence.”
“True.”
We entered her car where the dogs received us with wagging tails and soulful expressions.
Ange ruffled their ears. She took out a small Tupperware box and fed them each a dental treat.
While Mrs. Miniver and Mr. Chips crunched, I took out my phone. My fingers hovered over the contact list.
“You’re not planning on getting in touch with Rick?” Ange asked.
“No. I’ll leave that to Candice. But I think maybe I should check in with her. It must be awful to be stuck here, with the threat of prison.”
“What are you going to write?”
I read it out aloud while I typed.
“Hi, Candice, I hope you’re holding up. I hope that there will soon be developments that shed light on what really happened. B”
“Very circumspect. Do you think her phone might be tapped?”
I hit send. “I have no idea, but it can’t hurt to be careful. I don’t want the local police to suss out that I’m snooping, and I also don’t want to promise her too much.”
“I’d say you’re right on both accounts.” She ordered Mrs. Miniver and Mr. Chips to settle into their crate at the back, and we were on our way.
Candice’s reply bubbled up so fast, we’d barely left the parking lot.
“I’m so scared. The police have been searching my room.”
“Why?”
“No idea. They showed me the warrant but I was too flustered to read it.”
“Poor kid,” I said to Ange, after I’d read her the message exchange. “She needs a pick-me-up, one of the Merriweather kind.”
“You’re right.”
I typed.
“I’ll send you a stress-relieving tea, one that all my friends swear by. I assume you’re allowed to receive parcels?”
“Thank you”
“Who are you going to use for the delivery?” Ange asked.
