Ah. I’d gone too far. Or, Artur had gone too far.
The rational assumption by the police was that Emile had brawled with someone before he’d ever come across me at the church, and thankfully, no one had believed him when he swore up and down I was the culprit. I’d let Tansy believe he’d tussled with someone else, but the guilt of that lie was always with me.
Yet, what choice did I have? How could I tell her what happened that night without revealing what was going on inside of me? I’d always worried someone would find out, and while it’s true Higgs didn’t do what I’d predicted he’d do—he didn’t reject me—I had to wonder if that was only because he’d seen it firsthand.
And certainly there were Jeff and Livingston to consider. I absolutely could let them talk to her, but how many people did I want to know about this that could, in the end, anger someone down below?
What would their fates be if they all knew demons really did exist? The very idea frightened me to my soul.
So I gave Tansy a sympathetic look. “So you’re keeping me out of the loop to protect me?”
Her lips thinned and her lined brow furrowed. “I’m keeping you out of the loop because your place should never have been in the loop, Trixie. From this moment on, you’re a liaison for the bereaved due to the fact that people respond to you in a frightening setting. You bring them comfort. You’re good with them. You don’t have to get into hand-to-hand combat with them.”
My heart lurched in my chest. “You do realize my being at the church was just a coincidence, right?”
Tansy winced. “No, no, young lady. Franklin knew you were asking around, digging into the whole investigation. He knew, and he hunted you down. I won’t have you be my sitting duck.”
I gave her an impish grin. “Which means you’re only using me for the information I can gather, then discarding me when the good stuff goes down. I feel so cheap,” I teased, hoping to alleviate the worry she’d obviously harbored.
But Tansy bristled, clearly unamused. “Gathering information isn’t your job anymore. You’re only to lend a sympathetic ear from this point on.”
Now my guilt returned, full force. “And I really flubbed it last night with Nikki, didn’t I?”
“Flubbed isn’t the word I’d use, but she was certainly spooked. Yet, I can’t blame that on you, Trixie. These kids with all the social media are going to be the death of the department. They see everything these days because someone can just yank a phone from their trousers and start videoing. We’ve lost all trust, and those of us who truly should be trusted have been lumped in with everyone else. Don’t mistake my words, I know there are bad coppers, but there are good ones, too,” she said, a vehemence to her tone.
I can’t describe my disappointment to you at this point, I can only tell you, I felt quite left out, even if what Tansy was saying was out of concern for my safety.
My mouth was dry, but I still managed to say, “I totally understand. So, I’m guessing you won’t be needing my services?”
Tansy began to rise, smoothing her hand down her rumpled navy skirt. “I can’t say as yet, but of course I’ll let you know.”
Deciding it couldn’t hurt to try once more, I asked, “And the extra identical purse?”
She wagged a finger at me. “All I’ll tell you is this—we found an empty purse identical to this one on Mitzy’s chair on the dais. We’re going to assume she thought it was the one with the EpiPens and her phone. But! That’s only an assumption.”
“So that would suggest someone wanted Mitzy to have a false sense of security. Maybe the killer put a dummy purse on the couch she was sitting on? Or swapped them out in her dressing room in the back?”
“I said, that’s all I’ll say, Trixie,” Tansy said with a firm tone.
I rose, too, and began to follow her to the front of the shop, picking up the pace as she began to beat feet toward the door with obvious haste. “Are you sure you still won’t call this murder?” I called.
“I’m not calling this anything with you breathing down my neck,” she taunted back as she waved her fingers over her shoulder. “I’ll be in touch if need be, Trixie!”
With that, she let the door shut behind her, the wind lifting her blonde hair as she flew across the street to her unmarked car.
Oziah came up behind me, his voice deep and rich when he said, “It really was nice to see you, Trixie. I need to get going. Don’t want to be late for my reaming.”
I giggled, but then I turned around and sobered. “I’m sorry, Oz. I hope she takes it easy on you.”
His sweet eyes smiled, even if he was likely worried for the lecture he would surely receive. “Thanks. Hope to see you soon…but maybe not too soon.”
I held up a finger. “Wait. Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d like to accidentally spill?”
“Hah!” he barked, letting his head fall back on his shoulders with a bitter laugh. “Isn’t it enough that I’m going to end up on desk duty? You want me to have to do the graveyard shift, too? Nope. I’m out. Like I said, it was nice seeing you. Let’s not do this again for a little while.”
I laughed, tucking my sweater around my waist as I pushed open the door for him. “Bye, Oz.”
As I waved him off, I couldn’t stop thinking about the
