Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,31

you. You need someone to talk to, and it can’t wait until Simon’s free.”

Addie’s bottom lip quivered.

Catherine clasped Addie’s hand in hers. The tender expression that filled Catherine’s brown eyes tugged at Addie’s chest, and the tears she’d dammed behind anger and disbelief broke free. Catherine snatched a tissue from the box, pressed it into Addie’s hand, and then listened until Addie sat back, exhausted, her tenth tissue pressed to her nose.

“I can see why you looked shattered today. But I also know that Marc, deep in his heart, knows you had nothing to do with either crime.”

“How can you be so sure? He certainly didn’t put up any argument when what’s-her-name stood there suggesting that if she was in charge of the investigation, I would be her number-one suspect.”

“Perhaps, but he didn’t charge you with anything.”

“Not yet, but they were at Serena’s, gathering tea samples because this woman is convinced it will prove that I did have something to do with all this.”

A soft smile played at the corners of Catherine’s mouth. “How many times did Marc go along with you as you tried to prove your theories to him?”

“That was different.”

“Was it?” Catherine arched a brow.

“Of course,” Addie sputtered. “We were . . . Oh. I see what you’re getting at.” A knowing smile touched Catherine’s lips as Addie grasped what she’d meant. “But it was different with me because he generally knew in his gut that I was right, but he needed the evidence to do anything about it, and following up on my theories usually gave him exactly what he needed for proof. You can’t think he feels in his gut that she’s correct and is looking to prove that her theory is right?”

“Or maybe he’s waiting for her to prove herself wrong because he knows you would, could, never do what she accused you of, and once her evidence doesn’t pan out, he knows that will be the end of it.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Addie drummed her fingers on her knees. “But why would he go to all that trouble to prove my innocence if he already knows I am?”

“Because Marc is obviously falling for Ryley and doesn’t want you to become a wedge between them. So by going along with this, he’s not jeopardizing what they have by taking his ex-girlfriend’s side over hers.”

“Do you think he . . . he loves her?”

“It sounds like it’s a possibility. Why? Would it bother you if he did find someone else and fell in love?”

Addie couldn’t answer around the tightening in her throat.

“Would it? Be honest.”

“I didn’t think it would at the time, but seeing him today with another woman did make me ask myself if I’d made a mistake when I let him slip away. On the other hand, is what I felt today only a matter of me wanting what I can’t have anymore?”

“Have you figured out which one it is yet?”

“I don’t know,” Addie said, twirling a pen on her desk. “After Christmas, when we started to spend more time together, I thought I really cared for Marc. He was like going home. He was comfortable, everything I knew and missed. He was like a memory of my past, and it felt right and safe.”

“That’s to be expected. You’d had a couple of rough years and suffered a lot of losses. We were all thrilled to see you finally moving forward again . . . but . . .” Catherine caught her lip between her teeth and then fell silent.

“But what?”

“Nothing, go on.”

“Okay.” Addie shifted, eyeing Catherine’s masked face, but it was no use. She had withdrawn and wasn’t going to finish her thought. “Yes, I was moving forward, and it felt freeing, but that was part of my problem. Was I really moving forward? Sure, I’d finally accepted David’s death and part of that could have been because Marc made it easy for me to fall for him—which is probably why I did so quickly. He made me feel the way David used to: safe. Naturally, I gravitated toward that. Then I started to question if the reason I was attracted to Marc in the first place was because I had simply replaced David with him. They were so much the same.”

Addie stroked her neck, watching Catherine’s face for a reaction, but she showed nothing telling. “Well, except David was never as rude or nasty to me like Marc can be sometimes.” Her gaze dropped. “Like ever since he’s