Chapter Forty-Two
Everett
“Stevie?” I follow her line of sight to a booth at the back of the diner, where two guys are sitting side by side. When they see us coming, they slide out and stand up. “Who’s Stevie?”
“Stevie MacDougal. He’s the tall one with the reddish ponytail. I used to babysit him, and he had a huge crush on me.”
“That explains why he’d pick up things in the alley he thought belonged to you.”
“He used to come to the bakery all the time when I was working. He was short and scrawny and wore glasses with lenses an inch thick.”
She tugs my sleeve. “And he was there that night! I gave him a free cherry lemonade. He was like, twelve at the time.”
“Well, come on.” I take her hand again, and we keep walking. “Let’s see what he knows.”
After a brief round of introductions, Mila and I slide into the booth across from Dan and Stevie, who still looks at Mila with a rapt expression that reminds me of the way Merlin looks at bacon.
“So what’s this all about, Stevie?” Mila asks kindly.
“Uh.” Stevie scratches the side of his neck. “I was kind of…there that night.”
“I remember.” She smiles. “I gave you a lemonade.”
“Right.” Stevie beams at the memory. “And then I left because you had to close up, but I didn’t really go home. I rode my bike around for a while, and then I sort of loitered in the back alley because you always left out the back door when you closed up.”
Man. This kid had it bad.
“Because it locked automatically,” Mila says. “The front had to be locked with a key, which I didn’t have.”
“I saw the truck from the farm arrive and park in the alley,” he says.
I raise a hand. “That was me.”
“And I saw you unloading the truck and bringing things in. Then the truck left, and I thought Mila was alone.” He pauses. Scratches his neck again, which I notice is kind of red. “It was dark by then, and I was worried about her leaving so late by herself.”
I picture a scrawny twelve-year old with Coke-bottle glasses standing guard at the back door of the bakery and try not to smile.
“You were taking a while, so I rode my bike down the alley to the end of the block and practiced some wheelies. When I turned around, I saw someone coming out the back door.”
“Who?” Mila asks.
“I couldn’t tell.”
“You didn’t see the person go in? Only coming out?”
“Right.” He hesitates. Scratches again. “But see, my glasses had gotten smudged, so I took them off to clean them real quick. By the time I got them on again, the person was gone.”
“Gone where?” I asked.
Stevie shrugs. “I didn’t see the direction they went.”
“Are you sure you saw anyone at all?” I ask Stevie. “You said it was dark by then. You were down the alley. And you didn’t have your glasses on. Maybe it was just a shadow.”
Stevie considers this, then shakes his head. “I saw someone.”
“Was it a man or a woman?” Mila asks.
“I think it was a woman. I thought I saw long hair.” He looks despondent. “But I can’t say what color, because it was dark.”
“A guy can have long hair,” I point out, gesturing to Stevie’s ponytail.
Stevie looks even more glum. “Anyway, as soon as I got my glasses on again, I rode as fast as I could down to the bakery to look around. That’s when I found the necklace and the hair tie.
I kept them, thinking they were Mila’s, and I planned to give them back.
But I had to get home or I was going to get in trouble—I was already late.
I got about two blocks away when I heard the explosion. ”
Mila clutches her chest. “Thank God you weren’t still in the alley! You might have been hurt!”
Stevie looks pleased that Mila is grateful for his safety. “I didn’t say anything to anyone about where I’d been or what I’d taken.”
“Why not?” I ask.
He looks embarrassed. “I was afraid they’d take the things away from me. I wanted to return them to Mila myself. But I never got the chance. So I just hung on to them.”
Dan speaks up. “When the club decided to take a fresh look at the fire, Stevie reached out to me. He told me the story of what he’d seen, and I was obviously intrigued.”
“Dan convinced me to come forward in case anything I saw could clear your name,” says Stevie. “I’d never thought about it like that.”
Dan shrugs. “At the time, I thought maybe he was wrong about the items being yours.”
“They were definitely mine.” Mila looks at Stevie. “And as nice as it might have been to rehabilitate my reputation as an accidental arsonist in this town, I was happy to get that necklace back. I’m glad you saved it all these years. So thank you.”
His cheeks redden. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I can’t recall more.”
“That’s okay.”
“But what about the person he saw?” Dan persists. “Don’t you think that could be something worth pursuing?”
“Pursuing how?” Mila wonders.
“We could see if any of the other businesses on the block had cameras in the alley,” says Stevie.
“Even if they did, how likely is it they’d still have footage from a decade ago?” I ask.
“I could post about it,” Dan suggests. “I could just ask the person to come forward. They obviously know who they are. I could hint that we’re asking around about camera footage. Maybe that would spook them into coming forward.”
“Would I get in trouble?” Stevie asks, scratching his neck again. “I don’t want the police to come after me because I didn’t come forward back then. I’ve been so nervous about that, I gave myself hives.”
“I don’t want Stevie to get in any trouble either,” Mila says. “If what you discover will mean any consequences for him, you can’t go public with his name.”
“Deal. So do I have your permission to post about it?” Dan asks eagerly. “If someone comes forward, I’ll definitely have enough material for my podcast. I won’t need to use Stevie’s name. He can stay anonymous.”
Mila looks at me, and I shrug.
“Okay, why not?” she says. “Go ahead and post.”