Ellery chuckled. “And me?”
“Have some color in your face again.” Jack put Watson, who was wriggling and squirming, on the floor. Watson promptly hopped up and down on his hind legs for Ellery to pick him up.
Jack watched this precarious maneuver with resignation. “Who was it who told you he was going to be ten pounds at most?” he asked when Watson was safely cradled in Ellery’s arms.
“Dr. Vincent’s nurse.”
“Because he’s eleven pounds now, and he’s still got some growing to do.”
“I know. It wasn’t a deal breaker.” Ellery smiled at Watson, who smiled back. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Oh no,” Jack said. “I didn’t need all that sleep anyway.”
“Have you eaten? People have been bringing me food all afternoon, if you’re hungry.”
Jack matched his casual tone. “That would be great. I didn’t have time for lunch.”
Jack followed Ellery into the kitchen, and told him, “You sit. I’ll get the food.”
“I’m fine. I just get these flickers of vertigo, but then everything’s steady again.” He was happy enough to take a seat at the table, though.
He watched Jack moving around the kitchen, putting water in Watson’s dish, getting out plates and silverware. But then, Jack had helped him refinish the floors, the counters, and the cabinets, so Jack ought to know his way around.
“Good God.” Jack studied the contents of Ellery’s refrigerator. “There really is a lot of food here. You’ve got groceries for a month. Plus…how many casseroles?”
“Four. I know. It’s enough for a funeral.”
Jack muttered something in response to that. “It looks like you have your choice of lasagna, tuna casserole, cheese and potato, and…”
“Seafood casserole,” Ellery supplied. “From Mrs. Nelson.”
Jack looked impressed. “If Mrs. Nelson baked you her seafood casserole, you know you’ve arrived.”
“There’s also a cake and two pies in the butler’s pantry.”
Jack gave a little shake of his head, glanced at Ellery. “What would you like me to heat up? Or do you want it all buffet-style?”
“I’m not that hungry, to tell the truth. What do you feel like?”
Jack didn’t go for that. “Yeah, but you’re eating anyway, so the thought of which of these makes you feel the least queasy?”
Ellery considered. “Cheese and potato?”
“Cheese and potato it is.”
Ellery had to smile, watching Jack efficiently stepping around Watson as he transferred the cheese-and-potato casserole to the oven, set the timer, got a beer for himself and a glass for Ellery.
“What did you want to drink?”
“Water is great. You don’t have to wait on me, Jack. I really am fine.”
“Water it is.”
“Hey,” Ellery said suddenly as the memory of the empty drive came to him. “Is my car still up at the cemetery?”
Jack hesitated. “No.”
“Did someone steal it?”
Jack snorted. “No.”
“Then…”
“It’s being autopsied at Robertson’s garage.”
“What?”
Julian was right. Jack’s eyes did very occasionally twinkle. “I’m kidding. It’s getting a tune-up.”
“But…”
“Consider it an early birthday gift.”
“Well, that’s an awfully nice gift.” Ellery added doubtfully, “Thank you.”
This kind of gesture was why his friendship with Jack was so confusing sometimes. Even more confusing because Jack was typically such a straightforward guy.
Jack’s smile was wry. “You’re welcome.”
“You know, none of my recent, er, mishaps, resulted from my car breaking down.”
“I know. I’m being proactive here.”
“Well, thank you. Again.”
Jack seemed faintly amused. “Well, you’re welcome. Again.”
Nan’s cheese-and-potato casserole was delicious from the very first savory bite, which was all Ellery could take before he had to ask.
“Well?”
“Well?” Jack glanced around the kitchen as if seeking the latest home improvement.
“You’re killing me here. How did it go with Ned?”
His heart sank as Jack grimaced and shook his head. “He confessed.”
Then Jack’s words sank in. “He— He confessed?”
“Yep. It couldn’t have taken more than half an hour. I think it was a relief to get it off his chest. He’s not a killer. Not by nature.”
By circumstance, yes. But maybe that was true of everyone. Jack was right, though. If Ned possessed a murderous instinct, Ellery would also be dead.
“What happened?”
Jack regarded him for a thoughtful moment. “It went down pretty much the way you guessed. Brett showed up drunk and belligerent. He’d already scuffled with Julian, who gave him a black eye.”
“Good for Julian.”
Jack’s look was chiding. “Yeah, well. Brett accused Ned and the others of skimming off the top, which, in fairness, was correct.”
Ellery thought of Libby’s bracelet. “No honor among thieves?”
“Exactly.”
“The other men walked out, which made Brett angrier. Ned stayed to try and reason with him. Brett pulled the gun. Probably to try and scare Ned—which he did. I don’t think Brett intended to commit murder any more than Ned did, but they struggled, the weapon discharged…” Jack shrugged.
Watson, sleeping with his head on Ellery’s foot, was uttering tiny, muted dream barks. The subdued kitchen lighting gave everything a soft, golden sheen. Ellery studied Jack’s face in that gentle light. It was a handsome face, yes, but also a good face, a kind face. A face he would like to keep in his life. Maybe Julian didn’t understand the value of friendship. Ellery did.
He asked, “Do you know who the other members of the gang are?”
“Yes. Dougie Hardin and Tip Smith. Local men. All three were on my list of suspects. They’re in custody now, and we’ve recovered a lot of the stolen property from the crypt below the mausoleum.”
“So that’s it? Case solved?”
Jack’s grin was rueful. “Don’t let this go to your head, but yes, case solved.”
Jack finished his beer, went to the fridge for another.
When he sat down again, he glanced at Ellery’s empty plate, and started to rise. “You want another serving?”
“No. Thanks. That was more than enough.”
Jack, who was already having a second serving, nodded and returned to his meal. Ellery considered him, and finally had to ask.
“What did you say to Julian that made him think we were…involved?”
Jack met his eyes without self-consciousness. “I told him you were my friend and I didn’t appreciate your being dragged into his drama.” He added, “Anyway, we are involved.”
Ellery smiled. “Define involved.”