“Thank you,” Jayne said. “I don’t want to be rude, but we’re very busy.”

  He looked at me, taking up space while doing absolutely nothing. I sipped my tea and made no attempt to appear to be busy.

  “I was passing,” he said. “I wanted to take the opportunity to say hi. I was very fond of Andy, still am, and I’m pleased he’s done so well for himself. In matters of the heart as well as in business.”

  Jayne smiled.

  “The restaurant world in the Lower Cape is small and well connected. I heard now that the … recent unpleasantness … is over, the Blue Water Café will be opening for dinner tonight.”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s a tough business, this one of ours. It’s good you have your own place, Jayne. You understand.”

  “I have good partners.” Jayne’s eyes flicked toward me.

  “You’re a partner here?” George asked in something approaching surprise.

  “Silent partner,” I said.

  “Like I said, tough business. Being unexpectedly closed for any length of time can result in a place going under. I’m glad such didn’t happen to Andy.”

  “So are we,” Jayne said.

  “Have you given any thought as to how you’re going to manage after you’re married? You and Andy have opposite schedules. Your place is open mornings and afternoons. You close at four. He opens for lunch, doesn’t close some days in season until well after midnight. It can be a hard balancing act for a couple.”

  Jayne blinked.

  “They’ve managed so far,” I said.

  “And good for them. I’m not a cook myself.” He laughed heartily. “My talents in that direction stop at boiling eggs and making toast. Instead, I pay good money to get top people to cook at my restaurants. My late wife was a schoolteacher, so we didn’t have the scheduling problems you do. Life takes over sometimes, doesn’t it, and enthusiasm dies. It’s harder to keep up a punishing routine when you start getting older. As I well know.” A hand to his back and a wince to illustrate his point. “And then the kids come with all their demands and more scheduling issues. Assuming you two want kids. None of my business, right, but have you thought about who’s going to look after young children?”

  Before I could tell him that truly was none of his business, he said, “I’m confident you’ll find your own way, Jayne. I have total confidence in Andy. Always did have a good head on his shoulders, that one. I’ve always made it an important part of my business to do what I can to help promising young chefs get ahead. Part of that mandate, I believe, is warning them about the dangers and pitfalls of the profession.”

  Jayne just looked confused.

  “Thanks for that,” I said. “As a silent partner, I am silently telling my head baker to get on with it.” I stepped forward, putting myself firmly in George’s personal space. “Shall we?”

  “Nice talking to you, Jayne,” George said.

  He and I went into the restaurant together. “Bunny told her daughter she enjoyed having dinner with you at one of your restaurants,” I said.

  “She’s a lot of fun. Great stories to tell. Give my best to Andy next time you see him.”

  George left.

  What, I thought, was all that about?

  * * *

  George’s odd visit to Jayne in the kitchen of Mrs. Hudson’s had left me with a lot of questions about him. It was time, I thought, to do a deep dive into him, see what I could come up with. Unfortunately, it was a gorgeous winter’s day, with a brilliant sun, no wind, and temperatures soaring into the forties, which brought people into town. The shop was busy from the moment I flipped the sign to Open and I didn’t get a chance for a break.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Ryan popped into the tearoom for a sandwich and a coffee, which he brought into the Emporium. I hadn’t heard from him since Thursday night and wondered if he was still angry at me for giving chase to Robbie’s killer.

  We have a complicated relationship, Ryan and I. We love each other; we want to be together. It can be difficult for him when I get involved in his cases. Even when I try not to be involved, something always drags me in.

  Honesty forces me to admit that “something” is most often my innate curiosity. I sometimes wonder why I risk my relationship over such things. Perhaps I’m trying to prove myself, even if only to myself. I grew up in the shadow of an older, smarter, thinner, prettier sister. She is so highly placed in the British government, no one knows exactly what she does. Am I still trying in some way to compete with Pippa after all these years? Perhaps.

  Then again, maybe like Sherlock Holmes, I get involved because the path to do so opens in front of me. In this case, however, my reasoning was simple: I wanted to do everything I could to help clear Andy.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t making much progress.

  When Ryan came in, I left Ashleigh and Gale to help the customers and led him to the reading nook by the big front window. He handed me the cup of tea he’d picked up for me. Unasked but definitely appreciated.

  “Are you making any progress on the Tina Armstrong case?” I asked.

  A copy of Holmes and Moriarty by Gareth Rubin lay on the wingback chair. Ryan put it on the side table and dropped gratefully into the comfy chair. He took a long sip of his coffee, sighed heavily, and unwrapped his sandwich. A huge stack of roast beef with arugula and spicy mustard on a Jayne-made baguette. It looked delicious. “Progress? No, not much, I’m sorry to say.” He spoke as he ate. “We can find no sign of any enemies or any reason anyone would want to get rid of her. She lived a fairly quiet life since coming back to West London. Had a few friends, none of whom can say if she was afraid of anyone or worried about anything other than passing her realtor exams. As for Robbie Ellis, I’m trying to stay out of that one because of the connection to Andy, but we can’t help but think the two cases are intertwined, so keeping my distance isn’t entirely possible.”

  I remained quiet, letting him chew and think.

  “I can tell you that although Louise first focused her attention on Andy, she’s not so sure anymore. Not without concrete evidence to put him at the scene, and she doesn’t have that. Doesn’t have evidence of anyone having been in Robbie’s apartment recently, unfortunately. Except for you. We found your fingerprints on the top of the patio wall and on the cement floor.”

  “Not a surprise since I was obviously there.”

  “You must have been the only person in West London not wearing gloves that night. Some clumps of mud got left behind on the carpet, but nowhere near enough to give us a good boot print. A canvass of the neighbors brought up nothing but your name. A woman saw you ringing Robbie’s bell and recognized you from this store.”

  “Yup.”

  “Do you wonder Louise sometimes suggests we just charge you for every crime that happens in West London and get it over with?”

  “Nope.”

  He smiled at me. I smiled back.

  “Are you looking forward to the wedding?” he asked.

  “I am. Andy wanted to call it off.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because he doesn’t want Jayne tied up in his troubles if he is charged with murder. He soon changed his mind.”

  Ryan put his sandwich down and reached out his hand. I put mine in his. “We all need support, and never more than when we’re having troubles,” I said softly.

  We smiled at each other for a long time. Conscious of the shoppers behind us, Gale and Ashleigh’s low voices as they helped them, and a disapproving Moriarty glaring at us from the windowsill, we didn’t get any closer.

  Finally, Ryan cleared his throat and resumed eating his lunch. “In case you had any doubts, the time of Robbie’s death has been clearly established as only moments before you say you arrived.”

  “Before I arrived,” I said by rote.

  He grinned. “Before then.” The grin faded. “It is possible Robbie’s death had nothing to do with Tina. He has a police record: minor stuff, but it’s there.”

  “I’m aware of that,” I said.

  “Can I ask how?”

  “No, you cannot.”

  “Okay. He was clean when he lived in West London originally, far as we know anyway, but he started getting himself into trouble in New York City. Since he’s been back in town, there’ve been a few incidents: a fight in a bar, a speeding ticket in a school zone, a bartender who said he was harassing her. He might have made some enemies, people he had disagreements with, at the very least. He was way behind on his rent, about to be evicted if he didn’t pay up.”

  “Occam’s Razor,” I said. “Perhaps we’re complicating this case, these cases, unnecessarily. Does the bartender have a boyfriend or husband who might have thought it a good idea to warn Robbie off?”

  “She has a wife, and she and her wife were at their book club until late that evening.” He folded his sandwich papers and got to his feet. I held out my hand and he put the discarded wrappings and empty cup into it. “What’s the plan for Monday?” he asked.

  “I’m going to Leslie’s to help Jayne get ready, and we’ll travel together to the church from there. The service is at three.”

  “I’ll meet you at the church, then. I’ve been hoping to find the time to take Andy and his sisters and some of his friends out for a few drinks. I put it off for too long, and now with this mess, that’s not going to happen.” He gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head.

  On his way out, Ryan passed Bunny coming in. She gave him a wave of her fingers. Two women were browsing the gaslight fiction shelves. One nudged the other and nodded toward Bunny. They put their heads together and giggled. Bunny pretended not to notice, but she lifted her chin, ever so slightly, and a smile crossed her lips.

  I should say, her smile broadened. She’d already been smiling. “Good afternoon, my darling.” She wrapped Ashleigh in a hug. “And how are you on this beautiful day?”

  “I’m fine. I guess.”

  “Gemma, my other darling, as bright and perky as ever. So nice to see you.”

  I tossed the trash into the bin behind the sales counter as the two customers cautiously approached Bunny.

  “Excuse me, but would you be Bunny Leigh?”

  “I am,” Bunny said.

  “Oh, gosh. I heard you were living in West London. Can I have a photo with you? I owned all your records. The summer I was sixteen, I played them constantly. My dad got so sick of listening to them.”

  Bunny’s smile slipped ever so slightly as she was reminded of how long ago she’d been the highlight of a young teen’s summer. “Of course,” she said.

  The woman and Bunny posed while her friend snapped several pictures. They left happy, unencumbered by any purchases.

  “Wasn’t that nice?” Bunny said. “I’ve made that woman’s day. Such a privilege.”

  “What’s up?” Ashleigh asked.

  “Nothing in particular. I was passing and wanted to see you. Isn’t that enough?”

  “I suppose it is.”

  I’ve seen pictures of Bunny in her glory days, whether in an arena or a small dark bar, lighting up the place, and the fans, with her smile. She was wearing such a smile now. “I had a marvelous time with George last night. As nice as our first date, which is sometimes not the case. He knows how to treat a lady. Being with him in the restaurants he owns almost reminds me of the good old days, the service we got when the head chef or the owner came out of the back to show us to the best table in the house.” She sighed happily. “George’s restaurants are doing so well, he’s wanting to expand, but he’s having trouble finding the perfect location. He’d love to open a place in West London, but so far, nothing on the market appeals to him.”

  Moriarty leapt onto the sales counter and dropped himself down beside Bunny. She stroked him as she chattered on. Ashleigh gave me a half-wink. The chimes over the door tinkled as a group came in, and Gale called, “Let me know if you need any help.”

  “Did you know Andy’s first cooking job was at one of George’s restaurants?” Bunny asked.

  “Yes, I did,” I said.

  “He’s very proud of Andy. Tells everyone he gave Andy his start. Not that Andy needed any help, George told me. He’s always had luck on his side. Why, the restaurant that used to be on the pier burned down when Andy was searching for a promising location for his own place.”

  My ears pricked up. “George said that, did he?”

  “The earlier restaurant had been struggling, and the fire was the end of the line for them. Rumors circulated in the Cape Cod restaurant world that Andy set fire to the place himself, hoping to be able to take it over at a fire-sale price.” She laughed lightly. “Look at me. I made a pun. George put a stop to those rumors. Andy was in the right place at the right time, ready to put in a good offer, that’s all. George made sure everyone knew it.”

  It seemed to me George was no longer doing much of a job of quashing that rumor. If ever he had. He told me at the party, but I hadn’t taken any notice. Now he was repeating it to Bunny. “Stuff and nonsense. That fire happened years ago. First time I heard about it was at Jayne’s party and from George himself.”

  “Andy did buy the place, didn’t he? And turn it into such a successful restaurant.”

  “Bunny, do not repeat that rumor, please.”

  “I don’t gossip, Gemma.”

  “Mom,” Ashleigh said. “You are gossiping, right here, right now.”

  “I’m not gossiping. I’m telling you what my new friend told me about a mutual acquaintance of ours.”

  “Other people call that gossiping.”

  Bunny sniffed. “If you insist.”

  “Andy doesn’t need the dregs of that old story coming up again,” I said. “He didn’t ever need it, but particularly not now in light of the recent death at the Café and the murder of one of his waiters almost immediately after.”

  “Oh, yes. George told me about that. I hadn’t even realized the man who died had been working at Jayne’s party. Nothing but a coincidence, he assured me.”

  To how many other people, I wondered, was George attempting to subtly point out the connection?

  Bunny changed the subject. “I’ve always thought the restaurant business would be so interesting. So much fun!”

  Ashleigh’s eyes widened. She threw me a frightened look.

  Here it comes.

  “If George does expand into West London, he’ll be offering people shares in the business. I told him I might be interested, but he insisted he wouldn’t want to take advantage of our friendship.”

  I bet he did.

  “You can’t afford to invest in a restaurant, Mom,” Ashleigh said. “Even if you could, you know nothing about the business, and restaurants have an extremely high rate of failure.”

  Bunny scratched behind Moriarity’s ears. Moriarty purred.

  “Sometimes, sweetheart, investments involve more than money. It would be so exciting to get the band together one last time. I’m thinking I could invite special guests to the opening. I still keep in touch with dear Bruce.”

  “Bruce?” Gale asked.

  “Springsteen. Such a help to me when I was starting out.” Bunny’s face fell. “Although it has been a while. I’m sure he’d come if I asked. We were,” wink, “very good friends at one time. I’ll drop him a line today. For old times’ sake.”

  Gale’s mouth hung open.

  “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?” Ashleigh said. “Talking about a grand opening when a minute ago you told us George hadn’t even found a location yet.”

  “I’m thinking more of the grand reopening of the Blue Water Café. With all the ideas George has, it’s sure to be a huge success.”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of any reopening, grand or otherwise,” I said. “The Café’s opening tonight, business as usual. What do George’s ideas have to do with anything?”

  “As you two keep telling me, the restaurant business is a difficult one. George’s thinking is when he and Andy combine forces, they’ll make the Blue Water Café into something very special. A true landmark destination. He wants to drop the café part of the name for one thing—sounds like a coffee shop, not a fine dining establishment. Now I must run, dears. I need a new dress. I can’t wear the same old thing if I go out with George again.” Big wink. “And you can guarantee I will, if I have anything to say about it.”

  She bustled off.

  Moriarty jumped off the counter.

  “Does she really know Springsteen?” Gale asked.

  “Unlikely well enough he’ll come to a restaurant just because she asks,” I said.

  Ashleigh groaned and dropped her forehead to the counter. She lifted it and pounded it against the surface three more times.

  “Yup,” I said. “Looks like you were right. He wants her for her connections, if not for what money he thinks she can dig up.”

  “She does know people who are well off,” Ashleigh said. “Not everyone in her band squandered it all, and some of her old friends are still doing pretty good. Don’t get your hopes up though, Gale. That’s the first time she’s mentioned Springsteen. If she goes to her friends asking them to invest, and it doesn’t turn out well …”

  But I was thinking along other lines. So good old George was repeating the unfounded rumor that Andy committed a crime to get his restaurant open. George was looking for a prime spot in West London for his own place. If the Blue Water Café had to close, if it began to struggle because the owner was in jail or occupied with defending himself against a murder charge, if business dropped off because of lingering whispers of murder, would good old George be ready to step in? To buy it at fire-sale prices?

  Could he force Andy to relinquish control of his own business under the pretext of them being partners?

  Most important, what might George have done to put that train in motion?