CHAPTER SEVEN
Finally, this jack apple was making sense. The arson investigator had called to say he needed to ask her a few more questions and hinted that she might get her phone back. Lizzie was in her office at The Tipsy Twist, working on the initial liquor order for the grand opening. Except for a couple of cases salvaged from the back storeroom, The Drop’s inventory had been destroyed and thrown out, so she was starting from scratch.
A light knock on the open door caused Charlie to bark once—her personalized doorbell. Lizzie looked up as Ben entered. She ripped off her readers, shoved them into her pocket, and stood.
Charlie hauled himself off his bed and sauntered over to greet Ben, who scratched his head and mumbled, “Hey, pretty boy.”
“Don’t get up on my account,” Ben said. He placed a hand on the back of a chair across from her desk. “May I?”
She sat and nodded. “Do I have a choice?”
“I talked to Bella and her friend. Sounds like your alibi checks out.”
“Sweet. When can I have my phone back?”
“There’s some security video I’d like you to look at first.” He passed over a handheld device that showed a still frame of the bar’s rear entry. “Push play.”
She did, and it only took a second before someone snuck into the frame. The person wore all black, including a dark-colored baseball hat, and used a crowbar-type tool to break the lock on the back door.
“You can’t even tell whether it’s a man or a woman,” she said. “And if they had to break in, it obviously wasn’t me. I have a key.”
“The boots look a lot like the ones you were wearing the other day,” he said.
She glanced at the screen. “What? I may not know much about fashion, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in those boots. The only similarity is that they’re black.”
“You recognize anything about the person? The way they walk or move?”
She watched the rest of the short video. Once the figure disappeared into the bar, she handed back the tablet. “Other than the fact that it’s not me? No.”
“I may have ruled you out as not lighting the fire yourself, but I’m still looking into the scenario that you hired someone to do it.”
“That’s a waste of time.” She huffed. “We need to find out who actually did it so the insurance company will pay me. I gotta get repairs started on the building as soon as possible.”
“Or what?”
“Or I lose money. Which I understand to you is a motive, but to me, it’s just business.”
“I hear all of your sisters have already moved over here, and you’re eager to follow.” Coffee-brown eyes bore into hers.
“Sure. But I’m not willing to burn down my bar just to move faster. I love my sisters, but you’re grossly overestimating how badly I want to be neighbors with them. Also, the date I planned to move was set long before the fire. The grand opening’s in three weeks. The Drop burning is actually worse for me business-wise. I was going to run both bars until I sold the Main Street one. Now, I won’t have any income off of it for months. How’s a pile of ashes gonna benefit me?”
“The insurance payout.”
“Is only enough to rebuild. Maybe upgrade a little, but not worth the hassle it’ll be.”
He seemed to mull that over for a second, then changed topics completely. “Why didn’t you tell me your cousin had a friend with her?”
“Oh,” she said, shifting gears. “I don’t know much about her situation. She said her dad might get mad, and I figured Bella’s statement would be enough.”
“You don’t think her dad has a right to know she was out drinking?”
“Of course he does. I intended to talk to them Sunday morning, but Maya—that’s Bella’s friend—was gone when I got back from the bar. I gave Bella the what-for, and she was supposed to pass the message along. What else could I do?”
He hummed his disapproval, then reached into his bag and took out her phone. “Here,” he said, offering it to her. “I’ve gotten all I need from it.”
“Did you read through my personal business?”
“No more than I had to. Look, like I said, you may be exonerated, but the possibility of you hiring someone is still on the table. However, to cover all the bases, can you make me a list of anyone you think might want to do you harm? Ex-employees. Ex-boyfriends. Business competitors. Someone mad you took the last carton of mint chocolate chip at the grocery store. Anything.”
“Like all ex-boyfriends? Or just the ones that might be pissed about something?”
“Too many to remember them all?” He smirked.
She glared. “I’ll make a list.”
After he left, she picked up her phone to see what she’d missed. A million calls and texts from her family about her father, but that was old news. A couple of texts from her employees, but she’d already handled all that as well. She jumped over to her recent calls just to peek at what Ben might have seen and to start her list of potential suspects.
There wasn’t anyone who stood out as really pissed at her. She always tried to let men down gently. If possible, make it seem like the breakup was their idea and that getting rid of her was a blessing. Similar to the feeling you get when a policeman pulls you over, tells you all the things he could cite you for, but then only writes you up for one. You still drive away with a ticket, but somehow you’re thanking the cop.
While scrolling, the phone vibrated. Her dad was calling.
“Hey, Dad,” Lizzie said. “How you feelin’?”
“Good, honey. Almost a hundred percent again.”
“Easy, tough guy.” She chuckled. “What’s up?”
“Well, I’m bustin’ outta here tomorrow, but Bella has an away game tonight. Your mom and I were hoping you could go represent.”
“Oh, sure. Since I have no place to work, my calendar’s pretty wide open. When and where?”
She jotted down the name of the school and told her dad to rest. Now that she had reacquired her computer in a box, finding the school would be easy.
On her way out, she noticed Noah had already hired security. A tall, handsome man with a gun on his hip paced the property. He gave her a business-like nod, which she returned. She drove home, fed and walked Charlie, and put on her “New Bern High” hoodie.
“Sorry, buddy,” she said, petting Charlie’s head. “Schools aren’t dog-friendly. You get a good nap here, okay?”
He whined his disapproval at being left behind as she slipped on her coat and left. Midweek away games were hard for most people to get to, so she was one of only a few New Bern fans.
By the fourth quarter, Lizzie’s butt was numb, and she had to stand. Just as she was about to sneak out early, she watched Maya go for a layup and land on another player’s foot, twisting her ankle. She screamed and went down hard.
The coach ran out to her and signaled for the assistant to come out as well. They limped her back to the sidelines and taped an icepack to her ankle. Tears streamed down her face, but she remained stoic. The coach asked her something, and Maya shook her head. Bella stood next to her friend, stroking her hair. They huddled for a minute, then Bella looked up to search the crowd. She locked eyes with Lizzie and waved her down.
Confused, Lizzie climbed down the bleachers and approached the bench.
“This is my cousin, Lizzie,” Bella told the coach.
“Hi, Lizzie. I’m Coach Lee. Maya’s dad isn’t here, but she needs to go to the emergency room. I don’t think it warrants an ambulance—it’s probably just a sprain—but she should definitely see a doctor. Bella said you might be able to drive her? I’ve got to finish the game and get all the other girls home on the bus.”
“Oh, sure. Of course. No problem,” Lizzie said. “Um, can I just take her?”
“Usually, she has to have a note to leave with someone other than a parent, but if she calls her dad and he’s okay with it, I’ll consider that permission.”
Maya was already on the phone and after hanging up, nodded. “I didn’t tell him who would be driving, but he said whoever I’m comfortable with is fine with him. He says NB General would be best, but if needed, you can take me anywhere. He’ll meet us there.”
“I really appreciate this,” the coach said.
Lizzie slung Maya’s gym bag over her shoulder and looped an arm around her waist. Maya put her arm around Lizzie’s shoulders, and Lizzie helped her out to the Jeep, taking her weight for every other step.
“You’re so tall, I don’t feel like I’m helping much,” Lizzie said.
Maya laughed. “You’re actually the perfect height to lean on.”
“New Bern’s about thirty minutes from here. You wanna go somewhere closer?”
“Nah. NB’s fine.”
Lizzie opened the door, helped Maya into the passenger’s seat, and threw her duffel in the back.
“Thanks for doing this,” Maya said. “Sitting through a bus ride home sounded painful.”
“No problem. You’re a terrific player. They’re going to miss you on the court. Have you always played?”
“Yeah. Especially when it became evident I was a giant, which was, unfortunately, sixth grade.”
“Let me guess. All the boys were still five feet and made you feel bad because you were tall?”
“Pretty much.”
“I’ll never get why people think it’s so bad to be different. I like different. GPS says we’ll be at the hospital in twenty minutes. If you want to call your dad.”
“Okay. I’ll text him.”
“Does your mom not like basketball?”
“She doesn’t like us.”
Lizzie did a double take. “Huh?”
Maya let out a sad laugh. “I meant me and my dad. She left us when I was a baby. Haven’t heard from her since.”
“Geez,” Lizzie said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Eh. I’ve come to terms with it. It’s been my dad and me for as long as I can remember.”
“Did you tell him about the other night?”
“Yeah. He wasn’t real happy, but he took it better than I thought. Thanks again, by the way, for saving me. I wish I was as tough as you.”
“I wasn’t always so tough.”
“What do you mean? Have you been in the same situation?”
The conversation was derailing to somewhere Lizzie didn’t want to go. Especially with a teenage stranger. In all her years of dating, she’d kissed a lot of frogs. And every once in a while, one of those frogs would get too handsy and not want to take no for an answer. She’d learned some self-defense moves and how to talk tough. And though she’d never been in real trouble, the skills came in handy occasionally.
“You know how scar tissue makes the skin tougher? Well, let’s just say, I have some scars. You gotta be careful who you hang out with.”
“I know. And I will be from now on.” She paused for a second. “Bella says you date a lot of guys. How do you get them to ask you out?”
Lizzie could tell there was something behind the question and trod carefully. “You like someone at school?”
Maya nodded. “And he doesn’t know I exist. Well, I mean, he knows I exist. But he runs in different circles and goes out with girls different from me. Cheerleaders. Girls that like to party.”
“Maybe he’s not the right boy for you then,” Lizzie said. “Any time you’re tempted to act differently or do something you wouldn’t or shouldn’t to get a boy’s attention, you should rethink it.”
“Yeah, you’re right. So, how do you know when someone’s right for you?”
“Pft. If I ever figure that out…”
“Is that why you date so much? You’re trying to find who’s right for you?”
She wasn’t about to get into her insecurities and reasons for never getting serious. “I’m just looking for someone who doesn’t bug the crap out of me after three dates.”
Maya laughed. “That sounds reasonable.”
They talked about school, basketball, holiday plans, and other innocent topics until they arrived.
“My dad got stuck at work and is still fifteen minutes out,” Maya announced after checking her phone. “Can you come in with me?”
“Well, I’m not gonna leave you on the curb.”
They lucked into a parking space right next to the ER doors, and she helped Maya in. Only one other person was in the waiting area, so they were immediately escorted to a room.
Lizzie told the nurse that Maya’s dad would handle the paperwork once he arrived. She was just there for moral support. They brought in an X-ray machine and took a picture of Maya’s ankle, which had swollen to the size of a cantaloupe and was the color of a Super Red Honeycrisp.
The nurse left, and she and Maya were alone, chitchatting, when Lizzie heard a strong, gruff voice asking for Maya Mansfield. Mansfield? The name sounded familiar. And just as she placed it, Ben strode into the room.
Lizzie’s eyes darted from Ben to Maya. “This is your dad?”
At Maya’s nod, Lizzie turned to Ben, narrowing her eyes and giving her best if-looks-could-kill glare. A flash of chagrin crossed his face before he glanced away.
“Honey, are you okay?” he said to Maya, taking a long step to be by her side.
“Yeah, Dad. I might miss the rest of the season, but I’ll be fine. It hurts really bad though, and they won’t give me any medicine till you tell ’em I’m not allergic. Will you go talk to them?”
Just then, a nurse came in, wheeling a cart with a computer on it. Lizzie took it as her cue to leave. “I hope you get better soon, Maya.”
“Thank you, Lizzie,” Maya said. “By the way, this is my dad, Ben.”
“We’ve met.” She turned and stormed out.
Halfway to the exit, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
“Lizzie, wait.” He sounded exasperated, like being caught was a burdensome hassle he couldn’t be bothered to deal with.
She spun around, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Maya is my daughter.”
“That all you got?”
“It’s not relevant to the case. It won’t make any difference in how I pursue leads. What do you want me to say?”
“You should go take care of Maya,” she replied curtly before walking away.
Maya was Ben’s daughter? Why hadn’t he mentioned that this morning? Even if the information wasn’t totally pertinent to her case, the omission seemed deliberate and, therefore, deceitful. Whatever. As long as he did his job and found the real culprit, what did she care how honest or dishonest he was?
On her way home, she stopped for a burger and fries. She took Charlie out and ate alone at her kitchen table. She tried to push away thoughts of Ben, but her brain wouldn’t cooperate, and they popped up anyway, which displeased her.
Why waste time thinking about him? He was antagonistic and annoying. Somber and smug. He thought she was capable of arson! She shouldn’t care that he’d lied to her—a lie of omission was still a lie—but she stewed over it and its potential motive half the night.
Even after cataloging all of his irksome personality traits, some pesky, je ne sais quoi about him still spoke to her. Something in his eyes and manner that gave her an unwanted thrill when she saw him.
“Ugh. These fries must be laced,” she said. Charlie looked up hopefully, his eyes saying he wouldn’t mind taking his chances with the potentially tainted fries. She laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, boy. They’re not good for either of us.”
Charlie retreated to his bed in the living room, and she followed.
“I just need to find a new man,” she said, plopping onto the couch. “Stat.”