a coincidence. Remember when we were all there when Mr. Phong died and Xavier rummaged around the room?”
“Yes.”
“I think he’s a thief.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I didn’t actually see him take anything. Did you?”
Cat shook her head.
I said, “Then we have no right to accuse anyone of anything if we don’t have proof.”
Cat sighed. “You are right.”
“He may not be a crook, but I don’t believe he is being honest about who he is.” I bit my lip. “He acts like he is from around here, but his speech has a hint of an accent.”
“Spanish or something like that. I can’t place it for sure.” Cat tapped her foot. “This all makes sense, though. Do you remember calling out his name when we saw him on Broughton a while ago? He didn’t answer.”
“He said he had a lot on his mind.”
“Or maybe he’s a liar and forgot the alias he was using,” Cat said.
“Do people really do that?” I asked.
“Of course they do. All the time.”
“Like who?”
Cat said, “Like writers, some use pen names.”
“Pseudonyms.”
“Yes.”
Shaking my head, I smiled. “You’re comparing an author to a killer?”
“Why, yes, some kill off characters. So it’s all the same.”
I had to chuckle at her logic. I loved having one of my favorite friends living with me. I poked my head into the house.
The loud bang of the front door shutting was followed by footsteps on the stairs. I pointed up. “He’s back in the house now, and it sounds like he headed upstairs to his room.” I kept the door cracked open.
“Let’s keep our voices quiet.” Cat ran her hand through her dark brown hair. “Trust me, Bezu. Something isn’t right with Xavier, or whoever he is.”
“I have to admit he does seem to be a little off, as though he’s not comfortable in his own skin, like he’s performing.”
“Exactly.” Cat nodded.
“So that makes him a killer?” I asked.
“Maybe. When Annie Mae and I did our first case, we learned that a murderer has to have a motive, means, and opportunity.”
“First case?”
“Lucy’s was our first.” Cat looked away for a moment.
I felt the tug at my heart. Every day I missed Lucy.
For a few moments, Cat and I remained silent.
“We have to defend the innocent, right wrongs, find justice. That’s how we can honor the dead,” Cat continued. “And now we have Mr. Phong’s case.”
“You’re calling this a case?”
“Yes, for all intents and purposes, it is. And to clear your name, we need to find his killer.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’m at a standstill with the books, unless I can find out who made the big deposits.” Cat bit her bottom lip.
“I see,” I said.
“And we have experienced, reliable employees working at the store. They don’t need me there. So in the meantime, you and I are solving Mr. Phong’s murder.”
“We are, are we?”
“Yes, and I will only take yes for an answer.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
“That will do, too.” Cat shook her hand. “Let me talk this out.”
I smirked. “I’m on pins and needles.”
“Hey, enough, smarty britches.” Cat playfully tapped my arm. “Okay. Xavier had the opportunity since he lived in the same house as your departed tenant. And they worked together as well. Didn’t you tell me that Mr. Phong would take muffins all the time?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s say that Xavier knew this. And he spiked them with some sort of poison and then gave them to Mr. Phong. So he had both the means and the opportunity.”
“What’s his motive?”
Cat rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know.”
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Two thirds isn’t bad.”
Cat mumbled, “But it may not be enough. I’ve failed again.”
“What are you talking about?”
A tear ran down Cat’s cheek. “Where do I begin? I haven’t found my dad’s killer. I get so close, then a dead end. So far my life’s mission is to figure that out, and even though I won’t give up on that,
“Yes.”
“I think he’s a thief.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I didn’t actually see him take anything. Did you?”
Cat shook her head.
I said, “Then we have no right to accuse anyone of anything if we don’t have proof.”
Cat sighed. “You are right.”
“He may not be a crook, but I don’t believe he is being honest about who he is.” I bit my lip. “He acts like he is from around here, but his speech has a hint of an accent.”
“Spanish or something like that. I can’t place it for sure.” Cat tapped her foot. “This all makes sense, though. Do you remember calling out his name when we saw him on Broughton a while ago? He didn’t answer.”
“He said he had a lot on his mind.”
“Or maybe he’s a liar and forgot the alias he was using,” Cat said.
“Do people really do that?” I asked.
“Of course they do. All the time.”
“Like who?”
Cat said, “Like writers, some use pen names.”
“Pseudonyms.”
“Yes.”
Shaking my head, I smiled. “You’re comparing an author to a killer?”
“Why, yes, some kill off characters. So it’s all the same.”
I had to chuckle at her logic. I loved having one of my favorite friends living with me. I poked my head into the house.
The loud bang of the front door shutting was followed by footsteps on the stairs. I pointed up. “He’s back in the house now, and it sounds like he headed upstairs to his room.” I kept the door cracked open.
“Let’s keep our voices quiet.” Cat ran her hand through her dark brown hair. “Trust me, Bezu. Something isn’t right with Xavier, or whoever he is.”
“I have to admit he does seem to be a little off, as though he’s not comfortable in his own skin, like he’s performing.”
“Exactly.” Cat nodded.
“So that makes him a killer?” I asked.
“Maybe. When Annie Mae and I did our first case, we learned that a murderer has to have a motive, means, and opportunity.”
“First case?”
“Lucy’s was our first.” Cat looked away for a moment.
I felt the tug at my heart. Every day I missed Lucy.
For a few moments, Cat and I remained silent.
“We have to defend the innocent, right wrongs, find justice. That’s how we can honor the dead,” Cat continued. “And now we have Mr. Phong’s case.”
“You’re calling this a case?”
“Yes, for all intents and purposes, it is. And to clear your name, we need to find his killer.”
“Don’t you have work to do?”
“I’m at a standstill with the books, unless I can find out who made the big deposits.” Cat bit her bottom lip.
“I see,” I said.
“And we have experienced, reliable employees working at the store. They don’t need me there. So in the meantime, you and I are solving Mr. Phong’s murder.”
“We are, are we?”
“Yes, and I will only take yes for an answer.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
“That will do, too.” Cat shook her hand. “Let me talk this out.”
I smirked. “I’m on pins and needles.”
“Hey, enough, smarty britches.” Cat playfully tapped my arm. “Okay. Xavier had the opportunity since he lived in the same house as your departed tenant. And they worked together as well. Didn’t you tell me that Mr. Phong would take muffins all the time?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s say that Xavier knew this. And he spiked them with some sort of poison and then gave them to Mr. Phong. So he had both the means and the opportunity.”
“What’s his motive?”
Cat rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know.”
I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Two thirds isn’t bad.”
Cat mumbled, “But it may not be enough. I’ve failed again.”
“What are you talking about?”
A tear ran down Cat’s cheek. “Where do I begin? I haven’t found my dad’s killer. I get so close, then a dead end. So far my life’s mission is to figure that out, and even though I won’t give up on that,
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