Mrs. Haggerty thought about that for a moment as she scratched the thinning hair at her temple. “I did go outside to take my trash out just after dinner. There was a gentleman parked right there,” she said, pointing to where Roddy’s car normally sat. “He got out of his car to help me roll my bin to the street. He asked if I had seen you or Steven in the last few hours. I told him about all the comings and goings. Then he got a phone call and left before I had a chance to ask his name and write it down.”
“Do you remember what color car he was driving, or what he looked like?”
“It was dark and it was cold,” she said a little defensively. “The man was wearing a hat. I don’t know what color his hair was.” And she couldn’t see well enough to notice the color of his eyes, I was sure. But Joey had said he’d spoken with Mrs. Haggerty. And he’d also said he had gotten the call about Nick while he’d been here, sitting in for Officer Roddy. Everything about his alibi checked out, but I couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been hiding something.
“Thanks, Mrs. Haggerty,” I said, drawing my coat tighter around me as I stepped away from her door. At the last minute, I turned, catching her before she pulled it closed.
“Do you happen to remember if he was smoking?” From our few brief encounters, I suspected Joey couldn’t go long without a cigarette.
“I don’t recall. But now that you mention it, he did have something in his mouth while we were talking. For such a polite young man, you’d think he’d know better.”
Joey’s toothpicks. The ones he was always chewing on when he couldn’t smoke. My parting thanks rang flat as I turned for home, no further along in my search for FedUp or EasyClean than I had been the night before.
CHAPTER 45
My feet froze at the foot of my driveway. A burgundy Jeep was parked outside my house. Julian stood at my front door, hanging something from the knob as I approached.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
He whirled at the sound of my voice. The sand dollar he’d hung from a loop of satin ribbon knocked gently against the front door. He started toward me but stopped an arm’s length apart, sliding his hands in and then out of his pockets as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk. It’s just … I bought you something when I was in Florida. For Christmas. I wanted you to have it.” He scraped off his hat, holding it in front of him as he came closer. His eyes were almost gray against the cold, damp sky. “I’m sorry. About everything. Parker had no right to get involved.”
“No, she did,” I said, arms folded around myself. A sigh blew from my lips in a thin, white cloud. “I asked you for help and she came to the station for me. And she’s your friend. She cares about you. She had every right to say what was on her mind.”
“She shouldn’t have put words in my mouth.” He looked hesitant as he said, “And neither should you. I wasn’t ashamed of you. Or of us. I admit, maybe I have been hiding, but it’s only because you deserve someone who’s ready to commit. And that’s not really where I am right now. I like what we are.”
“What are we?” I could see him wrestle with that, his lips parted as he waited for the right answer to come. But there was no right answer. “Maybe we both need some time to figure that out.”
I leaned up on my toes and kissed him on his cheek, resisting the urge to let it linger. “Merry Christmas, Julian.” With a tender smile and an ache of regret, I slipped the sand dollar from the doorknob and carried it inside.
* * *
My phone was ringing on the counter when I came into the kitchen, my fingers numb, my nose slightly frostbitten, and my heart somewhere in my throat.
“It’s Sylvia. She’s called three times in the last five minutes.” Vero leaned against the counter, nursing a glass of wine.
“It’s eleven o’clock in the morning,” I said, gesturing to the open bottle beside her.
“Don’t get on me. I’m having a day.” She poured a second glass and pushed it in front of me.
“I don’t need a drink,” I said.
“Your face says otherwise. And you’d better answer that. It must be important.”
I reached for my phone, catching the call before it slipped to voicemail. “Hey, Syl.”
“Finlay, where the hell have you been? I left you a voicemail last night.”
“I was dealing with a family emergency. What’s up?”