“Bruty-boy, what do I do?” she asked, staring through the glass and spotting him chillaxing—tucked under his favorite leaf.
He flicked his tail to acknowledge her presence but didn’t offer any useful advice.
“Tod is gone. Somebody killed him, and I still don’t know who. I don’t know why. Everybody loved Tod,” she assured the fish. “Not just me. Even Niki liked him, and she never likes anybody I date. It’s been that way since tenth grade.”
Tod Sandoval had died three months after proposing to Leda Foley at the top of the Ferris wheel on the pier. It was a cornball proposal, with a little box and a pretty ring, and a short speech about how great they were together. Tod had been six feet even, with curly black hair and green eyes. Tod had a bright laugh that could light up a room, and a quick hand if anybody needed help. Tod was almost perfect, and in his absence even the faintest rough edges had been sanded away smooth. Now Tod was an angel.
But Leda didn’t believe in angels any more than she believed in ghosts, and the more time passed with no breaks in the case, the less she believed in justice, either.
But, wonder of wonders, Niki was prompt for once.
She arrived in twenty-eight minutes flat and let herself inside. She found Leda crying to the fish in the dining room. “I’ll open some wine,” she declared.
Shortly thereafter, both women sat on either side of the little bistro set that served as a dining room table: Leda, red-eyed and still shaking, and Niki, topping off the glass of pink wine every time it seemed necessary.
“I know it feels like a lot right now, but when you calm down a little… I think you should call the cop and explain yourself.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Leda snuffled.
“No, but he’s probably worried about you. You fainted and ran away screaming. If I were him, I’d be concerned.”
“I know, I know. He’s concerned. He already sent a text.”
“A text?” Niki nodded approvingly. “Good call. You can respond whenever you want. If you don’t, he might swing by the office, or look you up here, at home. Jesus, Leda… I only heard about your afternoon secondhand, and I’m worried enough as it is. That guy must be freaking out.”
“His text didn’t sound too freaked out.” Leda pulled out her phone and showed Niki the message that had landed about ten minutes before Niki’d arrived. “It sounded politely interested in my well-being.”
“I’m sure he’s holding back for the sake of propriety.”
“He’s a homicide detective who brought a fragile psychic to a gruesome crime scene. He has no sense of propriety.”
Niki rolled her eyes with vigor. “Girl, he didn’t drag you out there at gunpoint. He barely even twisted your arm. Don’t be a dick about this. Tell him you’re okay and let him off the hook.”
Leda glared down at the screen. “Fine. I will.” She retrieved her phone and pounded out a text like she was mad at it. Thanks for the adventure, and I’m sorry I passed out. I’m okay now, don’t worry. She tossed the phone aside, but Niki caught it before it flipped onto the floor.
Since it was still unlocked, she added a second text—so quickly that Leda almost didn’t notice. We should probably talk later.
“What are you doing? Nik, what did you do?”
Leda flailed for the phone, and after hitting Send, Niki passed it back to her.
“I’m helping.”
“That’s not helping!”
“Yes,” she insisted. “It is. You’re planning to avoid this man for the rest of your natural life—and don’t you act like I’m wrong about that. We both know you’re already wondering if the rent is any cheaper on the dark side of the moon because you’re embarrassed and you never want to see him again. But if there’s any chance at all that this guy can help you get answers about Tod’s death, you have to follow up with him.”
“You don’t understand. I saw Tod. Dead.”
“I do understand. I’ve been watching you process this for three years, and I know that one reason you’ve been beefing up your skills at Castaways is that you’ve been hoping to see Tod in a psychic flash ever since you got the phone call that he’d been found. You admitted it once, last year. When you were, okay, super drunk.”
Leda folded her arms on the small round table and laid her head down on top of them. “I feel stupid about it now.”
Niki patted her nearest elbow. “There’s nothing to feel stupid about. You saw something terrible, and it scared you. You ran away from it. That’s normal.”
“Grady Merritt didn’t think it was normal.”
“Only because he didn’t know the context. You should tell him. Talk to him, explain the whole thing about Tod, and you might have a new ally in the hunt for his killer.”
Leda’s response was a mumble, spoken into the crook of her arm.
“C’mon, take the rest of the day off. It’s the weekend, right? Do you want to go to Castaways?” Niki offered, since Leda usually treated the bar like it was base in a cosmic game of tag. She was safe there, if nowhere else in the world.
But Leda surprised her. “Not tonight. I don’t want to do anything tonight except finish the second bottle of pink wine and cry.”
“Netflix and swill?”
She considered it. “I’d rather PlayStation and complain. While swilling, yes.”
“Are both controllers charged up?” Niki asked. When Leda nodded, she said, “Good. Ready player one, bitch. Let’s get this cheer-up show on the road.”
10.
The next day, Leda gripped a mug of hot chai so that her hands would have something to do other than shake from a combination of nerves and a slight hangover. Niki sat beside her in the small, narrow coffee shop around the corner from the travel agency office, serving as emotional support while Grady Merritt settled into his seat across from them both. He placed a to-go cup of coffee down on the table.
“Thanks for coming,” Niki said, since Leda didn’t.
Then Leda added suddenly, “Yes! I’m so sorry, and I appreciate you coming all the way out here again.”
“No problem. I’m just glad to see that you’re all right. You really had me worried yesterday.”
“I know, and that was entirely on me. I owe you an explanation, and I intend to give you one. But first I have to give you a little background,” she said carefully. She hadn’t yet decided how much she was going to tell him about Tod.
Niki already knew. “She’s going to give you a lot of background. All of it, I bet.”
Her shoulders drooped. “Come on, Nik.”
“Do you want me to get the ball rolling?”
“No!” Leda insisted, and sat up to full attention. “No, of course not. It’s not your story to tell.”
“It’s kind of my story.”
“Okay, but only kind of.”
When Niki nodded to accept this compromise, Leda began to talk.
“So… five years ago, I met the love of my life.”
Niki jumped in. “He thought he saw an otter off the side of the pier, and when he leaned over to look, he lost his glasses.”