Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Mac and Cheese
Ziya insisted on driving Amie back to her building.
“Should we call a lawyer?” she asked, speeding through an intersection just as the yellow light flashed to red. “Does he have a lawyer we can call?”
“I don’t know.” Amie gripped the inside of the door, her whole body tense.
Ziya was, on paper, a good driver—she’d never caused a car accident, or gotten a ticket, or even been pulled over.
But she definitely pushed the boundaries of traffic laws, especially when she had someplace to be (which, with Ziya, was almost always).
“What exactly did he say?” Ziya slowed momentarily at a stop sign, then stepped on the gas and zipped around the corner.
“He said he thought someone should know he was about to be arrested, and if he wasn’t home when I got back, I should check the police station. Then he told me not to rush, and … and he hung up.”
Amie decided at the last second to leave out David telling her not to let this get in the way of “winning Ziya back.” He’d hung up before she could reply.
“Why would he be arrested?” Ziya asked. “Did I miss them outlawing Rube Goldberg machines or something?”
“I don’t know,” Amie repeated. She thought about the police tape outside of the bookshop that morning. How David seemed undisturbed by the news of Savannah’s death.
She shook her head. That wasn’t possible. It had to be something else.
Ziya glanced over at her. “You thought of something.”
“Hm?”
“You shook your head like you do when you’re trying to work something out and it doesn’t make sense.”
Amie wrinkled her nose. “I hate that.”
“What?”
“That you know that about me. You shouldn’t know that about me if we’re not dating.”
Ziya laughed. “Just because we’re not dating anymore means I’m supposed to forget everything I know about you?”
“Yes. It’s embarrassing. Wipe your memory.”
“I’ll try my best.” Ziya shook her head with amusement as she turned down Amie’s street.
“Thanks for driving me,” Amie said.
“No problem. I want to make sure he’s okay.”
Amie paused, trying to figure out if she misunderstood. “You … are you coming in?”
Ziya gave her an incredulous look. “Of course!”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. Besides, if he’s not there, you’ll need a ride to the police station.”
That was a strong argument. Still, Amie felt compelled to push back.
“I can take the bus. There aren’t any open parking spots, anyway.”
Ziya pulled up next to an open parking spot in front of Amie’s building. She looked over, eyebrows raised.
“Oh.” Just because there were no open parking spots on September 17 didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any on September 18.
Ziya expertly parallel parked, and the two exited the car.
Amie felt dazed as they entered the building.
Even the most indulgent of scenarios she’d played out in her head hadn’t ended with Ziya going home with her.
Granted, even if she had allowed herself to imagine a scenario where Ziya went home with her, it likely wouldn’t have been under these circumstances.
“Wait.” Ziya grabbed Amie’s hand as the latter raised it to knock on David’s door. She quickly released her, then pressed an ear to the door, listening. Amie struggled to figure out what to do with her hand, which was tingling from the contact.
“I hear voices,” Ziya whispered.
“David?”
“Can’t tell. But they wouldn’t be in there without him, right?” Ziya straightened, knocking on the door.
Knock knock. Knock. Knock knock knock.
A few moments later, the door cracked open.
“I told you not to rush,” David said, scowling at Amie as he opened the door wider.
His face brightened as he saw Ziya. “Hello, stranger!”
“Hello to you!” Ziya replied, throwing her arms around him. David returned the hug, raising his eyebrows pointedly at Amie over Ziya’s shoulder.
“What happened?” Amie asked, exasperated.
“I have a couple of visitors,” David said drily as Ziya released him.
“Come in.” He stepped out of the way to let them into the apartment, gesturing to the men sitting on the couch.
A bent spatula sat between the two police officers, one of whom looked like he’d recently discovered that he’d been sitting on a spatula.
“Officers Dell and Reiger,” David said, “this is my neighbor, and her …”
He trailed off, an almost cartoonish expression on his face as he looked questioningly at the new arrivals.
“Friend,” the women said in unison.
“What’s going on?” Ziya asked as Amie glowered at David.
“The gentlemen had a few questions for me about Savannah Harlow,” David explained as he closed the door behind them. “Mainly about an interaction I had with her yesterday.”
“At the grocery store?” Amie asked.
“That’s right,” David said. “If I’m accurately reading between the lines—and, officers, please correct me if I’m not—I believe I’m a suspect for her murder.”
Ziya gasped, looking at Amie. “Savannah’s dead?”
Amie gave her a quick nod before turning back to the cops. “On what grounds is he being accused?” (She wasn’t sure if those were the correct terms to use, but they sounded good to her.)
One of the officers stood, and the other one followed suit. “No one’s making any accusations,” the first one said. “We were given a tip to speak to Mr. Lenski.”
“The officers heard about our argument,” David explained.
“But that was nothing!” Amie exclaimed. “She was yelling at an employee. David was just trying to get her to stop.”
“Did you witness the argument?” the second officer asked.
“Y—” Amie stopped. No, technically, she hadn’t. Not on the specific day they were referring to, at least. She shook her head.
“I think we have everything,” the first officer said. “Mr. Lenski, we’ll be in touch if we need anything else from you.”
David escorted the cops out the door. “ ‘No one’s making any accusations,’ ” he said in a mocking tone as soon as the door shut. “They were sounding pretty accusatory before you two showed up.”
“Are you really their main suspect?” Amie asked as Ziya crossed the room. “I know you two fought a lot, but I feel like she has to have bigger enemies than you.”
“I couldn’t say,” David said. “When you told me earlier what had happened to her, I started thinking about how I was probably one of the last people seen arguing with her. But I just told myself that was my author brain getting carried away.”
“Sorry, just to clarify …” Ziya raised a hand as she sat down on the couch. “Savannah’s dead? By way of murder?”
“Does that surprise you?” David asked. “The murder part?”
Ziya shrugged, tilting her head in acquiescence. “Guess not.”
“You’re both terrible,” Amie said.
David let out a scoff as he spotted the bent spatula sitting next to Ziya. “This is why I don’t like visitors.” He picked it up, sitting down next to Ziya as he looked mournfully at the kitchen tool.
“Maybe it should be why you shouldn’t leave spatulas on your couch,” Amie suggested.
David looked up from the wreckage to narrow his eyes at her. “So how’d tonight go?”
Amie let out a strangled yelp. “AHH okay,” she exclaimed, avoiding eye contact with Ziya. “Let’s focus on the issue at hand.”
“Who told the cops about your argument at the grocery store?” Ziya asked.
David shrugged. “They wouldn’t tell me.” He sat forward, hands clasped between his knees. “What I don’t like is that someone’s making an effort to point a finger at me.”
“You think you’re being framed?” Amie asked.
“Either someone went out of their way to send the tip, or the police just happened to be talking to someone who witnessed the argument. Who could the latter be?”
Amie cast her mind back to all those trips to the grocery store. “There weren’t that many people around,” she said. “But Savannah was pretty loud, and the flower counter is by the entrance. Someone could’ve just walked by and noticed.”
“How do you know that?” Ziya asked.
“I don’t,” Amie said. “It’s just a theory.”
“No, about there not being a lot of people around. You said you weren’t there.”
Amie felt her jaw go slack. If she was ever going to tell Ziya about the time loop, this wasn’t how she wanted to do it. “Uh …” She glanced at David. “He … told me there weren’t. Didn’t you?”
“Right,” David said slowly. “I did tell you that.”
Ziya looked back and forth between them. “I don’t know how you guys felt about that performance,” she said, eyebrows arched, “but I’ve seen better.”
“Savannah could’ve also mentioned the argument to her husband,” Amie added hurriedly. “The police definitely would have spoken to him.”
“That’s true.” David spread his hands, sitting back on the couch. “Guess there’s nothing else the police can do, unless someone plants evidence against me. Or if they find all the threatening letters I’ve sent to Savannah.”
“You did what?” Amie yelled. Ziya’s eyes went round with horror.
“I’m joking,” David said. “I only wrote them in my head.”
“I bet you could figure out who killed Savannah,” Ziya said as Amie rubbed her temples. “You’ve got the knowledge from—”
She stopped, covering her mouth as David gave her a wide-eyed stare.
Amie narrowed her eyes. “Knowledge from what?”
“You swore,” David said, ignoring Amie.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Ziya replied, her voice muffled by her hand. Despite the apologetic tone of voice, her eyes shone with amusement.
Amie tried to think of what secret David would have from her that Ziya could know about. It only took her a few moments to figure it out.
“You wrote mystery books!” she declared triumphantly, pointing at David.
He covered his face in confirmation.
“Why wouldn’t you want to tell me that?” Amie asked. “I was starting to think you were a bestselling erotica author or something. Not that that should be embarrassing, but—”
“The books are garbage,” David replied flatly. “I didn’t want you reading them.”
“They’re really not,” Ziya said, looking excited to finally be able to talk openly about the topic. “My dad’s obsessed with them. He gave me one to read. That’s how I found out—I recognized David from the author photo.”