“That’s about it,” Lee answered.
David placed his cup back on the saucer. He bit back a wry laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Lee demanded.
David looked him in the eye. “Not funny. Ironic.” David took the picture of Lee out of his pocket and slid it across the bar. “Tessa gave me that this afternoon. Her brother had it in his pocket the day he died, along with a police photo of Arnie Mason.”
Lee glanced at the picture. “Christ!”
“You think Arnie Mason killed Eamon Roarke. Tessa thinks you killed Arnie.”
“Me?” Lee was all innocence. “You know me. Do you believe I killed him?” He shook his head in dismay. “I swear that woman hates me.” Lee handed the picture back to David.
“She also thinks you were trying to take Coalie back to Chicago.”
“What would I want with the kid?” Lee asked, genuinely puzzled.
“A reward for his return,” David replied.
“Damn,” Lee muttered. “So when I followed her and the boy from Chicago, she thought—”
“You were after Coalie.”
“No wonder she attacked me.” Lee whistled low, pulled the towel from over his shoulder, and started polishing the bar. He paused and looked at David. “And you, my friend? What do you think?”
David slipped the photograph into his coat pocket. He looked up and met Lee Kincaid’s worried gaze. “I don’t think you killed Mason.”
“Thank God!” Lee exhaled. “With Eamon gone, I don’t have too many friends left.” He smiled at David. “And I’d sure hate to lose one.”
David returned his smile. “Then I’d say this calls for a celebration. What time is it?” he asked Lee. “Oh, wait, I forgot—your watch is at the jeweler’s.” David patted his pocket searching for his.
“I’ve got mine,” Lee said, reaching for his pocket watch. “The jeweler put a new crystal on it and repaired the clasp on the chain. I picked it up from the store this morning.”
David watched carefully as Lee removed his timepiece from his waistcoat pocket. The flashy gold watch dangled from a delicate gold chain. A chain that didn’t match the one David had in his top desk drawer.
Chapter Seventeen
Tessa was waiting when David returned to the office.
Her heart constricted when she smelled the perfume on him. “You’ve been to the Satin Slipper.”
“Yes,” David answered. He placed a big basket on his desk, then took off his coat and hung it on the rack. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he caught a whiff of Myra’s scent. He hastened to explain. “It isn’t what you think. Myra turns into a cat and rubs herself against me every time I go into the saloon.” Tessa’s eyes were red and swollen. She’d been crying. “I had a few questions for Lee Kincaid.”
“I see.”
“I don’t think you do,” David said. “Look, I stopped by the hotel restaurant and picked up some supper.” He gestured toward the basket.
David knew Tessa missed Coalie. He understood that she was lonely and bored within the confines of the small apartment with only him and Horace Greeley for company, so despite his best intentions to limit his social contact with her, David had brought home a picnic for two. All the way from the hotel, he’d told himself he should keep his distance from Tessa, but with each step that brought him closer to her another part of him reminded him how much he missed her, how much he wanted to share with her. He didn’t want to stay away. He couldn’t. It took so little to make Tessa happy, and despite everything David realized he wanted to make her happy.
“I thought we could have a picnic.”
“In November?” Tessa didn’t believe him. “In freezing weather?”
“We’ll have it indoors and pretend it’s spring.” David walked to his bedroom and returned a few minutes later with a quilt. He spread it on the floor in front of the stove.
Tessa watched as he unpacked the basket, placing all of the containers on the quilt.
He looked up at Tessa. “We need plates and utensils. I couldn’t talk the hotel into loaning me any more.” He gave her a halfhearted smile. ?