Page 99 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind

My jaw drops, and I gape at him like a fish. But he just smirks and touches my bottom lip with one finger.

“Soren,” I whisper-hiss as the people around us begin vacating their seats. “We’re at afuneral!”

“I know,” he says ruefully, that little smile still pulling at his lips. “I know. But somehow I just…can’t stop thinking about you.” He shrugs, and his cockiness fades into something more vulnerable. “Pathetic, huh?”

Something surges in my chest, something warm and all-enveloping—like I’ve just had hot chocolate and it’s heating me from the inside, except there’s not a drop of hot chocolate in sight.

“No,” I say, more gently now. “Not pathetic.” I can’t stand the thought of Soren Mackenzie ever thinking he’s pathetic—ever. So I’ll put that to rest right now. “Never pathetic.”

He gives my knee a squeeze, and then he smiles once more. “Let’s get going, shall we? I think everyone else is at the car by now.”

We stand, and then I reluctantly turn toward Phil and Elsie.

I think they—or at least Phil—killed Carmina. I don’t know everything yet, but I think it happened.

And yet…in case I’m wrong…

I approach them with hesitant steps, smiling when I reach them.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I say quietly.

They nod at me and murmur their thanks; Phil doesn’t even make eye contact. I step aside so other people can get through; as I’m turning away, I hear a woman offering to bring dinner to them.

“I’m sure you don’t feel like whipping anything up,” she says.

“That’s kind,” I hear Phil say. I turn to look just in time to see him patting Elsie’s knee. “But my wife does most of the cooking.”

And another piece of the puzzle presents itself before slipping neatly into place.

* * *

“What if it was Elsie?”I say later that afternoon, when Gemma, Eric, and Mel have left. It’s just Soren and I in the empty shop; I like closing the store on Sundays. The two of us sit side by side on the checkout counter, surrounded by bookshelves, our legs swinging gently.

“Elsie?” Soren says, looking sharply at me. He’s still in his funeral clothes, a tan suit that fits him stupidly well. I’ve changed, though; I don’t like dress clothes.

“Yes,” I say with a nod. “JustElsie. I overheard Phil mention that Elsie’s the one who does most of the cooking. And it made me think…”

“She could have poisoned Carmina if she was doing the cooking,” he finishes for me.

“Plus she could have used Phil’s card. Couples share stuff like that all the time.”

“That’s true,” Soren says, his eyes narrowing as he thinks. His gaze grows faraway, and I can tell he’s putting things together in his head. “That would explain why Phil let us look around without seeming bothered.” He looks back to me. “If he didn’t know what his wife had done, he wouldn’t mind anyone poking around.”

“Exactly,” I say, nodding again. “More of the story fits when you look at it this way.”

“How would we figure out if that’s what happened?” Soren says, his voice musing.

“Mmm,” I say. I tilt my head, thinking. “Didn’t someone say the walls in those places were really thin? I think it was Stanley Riggs. He said the walls were thinner than some of the residents liked.” I look at Soren. “If there was fighting going on, Mr. Foster might have heard.”

“Maybe,” Soren agrees. “Do you want to talk to him?”

“Yes,” I say. “Just…not today.” I’m tired. I’m so, so tired. Emotionally, physically, mentally. “Let’s hang out here for now. Unless you need to go,” I add quickly.

“Nope,” he says, his voice relaxed. “There’s nowhere I need to be.”

“Good,” I say. “Stay with me.” My heart beats a little faster at this, because it feels like such an overt declaration of my feelings, but Soren just nods.

“I’ll stay with you,” he says simply.

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