“I saw you arguing earlier and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“We weren’t arguing,” Michael said. “Just debating strategy.”

She looked disappointed.

“I know we met, Kayla, but not officially.” Michael held out his hand. “Michael Kennedy, I’m Claire’s brother and I’m—”

“A police detective. I’ve heard.” She lifted her chin, as if to say others might be impressed by his credentials, but she wasn’t.

“I’m just heading over to see your grandma,” Michael said. “Will I see you there?”

“Probably not.” She turned to me. “Are you busy? I need to talk to you.” A look Michael’s way. “It’s private.”

“Okay,” he said. Then to me, “Pick you up at five thirty?”

I nodded. Kayla waited until he was gone, then turned, expression unreadable.

“You’re going out with him?” she said.

“A good private investigator uses every method at her disposal.” I winked as the BMW roared from the curb. “Plus he’s cute and drives a really hot car.”

She rolled her eyes so high they threatened to disappear.

“Okay,” I said. “You wanted to talk. I heard this town has ice cream—”

“Later. Did you see Dorothy?”

“She wouldn’t answer the door.”

“I’ll get you in. Come on.”

eighteen

eighteen

I knocked. When no one answered, Kayla opened the door.

“Hey, Dorothy! It’s me. Aunt Rose sent some of that peppermint tea you like.”

A wizened old woman with fire-engine-red hair peeked around the corner. Spotting me, she scowled. “Kayla Thompson, you’re a lying little—”

Kayla held up a bag. “Here’s the tea. Oh, and this is Savannah Levine. She’s investigating my mom’s murder. I told her you saw Cody and Claire arguing, but she needs to hear it from you.”

Kayla marched past her into the kitchen. “I’ll make your tea while you tell her.”

Dorothy followed. “I’m not telling her anything, Miss Kayla. I don’t know what you heard—”

“You saw Claire and Cody arguing behind the hardware store.”

“Who told you—?”

“You did. I heard you at Aunt Rose’s.”

“So you were eavesdropping.”

“Yep.” She filled the kettle.

Dorothy turned to me. “Kayla heard wrong. I never saw—”

“Yes, you did.” Kayla plunked the kettle on the stove, flicked the burner, then parked herself on a kitchen chair. “You don’t want to tell Chief Bruyn because you’re still mad at him for egging your house when he was twelve.”

“And thirteen. And fourteen.”

“So you don’t want to help him. That’s okay. You’re telling Savannah. You don’t have anything against her, do you?”

Dorothy’s look said just give her time and she’d find something.

“If she solves the case, it’ll make Chief Bruyn look bad,” Kayla pointed out.

Dorothy’s eyes glittered, but after a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t want to get involved.”