Button Holed by Kylie Logan Page A

work.
    Depressing.
    But at least the thoughts were enough to shake me out of my daze.
    It was the first I saw that Dr. Levine, the optometrist from across the street, was sitting on a bench in front of the shop next door. He was busy texting, no doubt getting word out about how he’d suddenly found himself smack in the middle of what was bound to be the most sensational murder to hit Chicago since the St. Valentine’s Day massacre. Brina was sitting next to him. She was hugging herself and sobbing softly.
    Brina, who was supposed to be in charge when I ran out for a sandwich.
    Like I said, I don’t know much about murders or investigations. But I knew enough to suddenly wonder if I might have a star witness on my hands.
    My knees were rubber. I managed to pull myself off the park bench anyway and make my way over to her. There was still coffee in my cup. I handed it to her.
    “You OK?” I asked.
    She took a drink and sniffed. Her nose stud winked at me. “It’s just like in the movies,” she said, looking past me toward the shop. No doubt she was picturing exactly what I was picturing: Kate’s ashen face; her open, staring eyes; the blood. “Only . . . only, it’s real, you know? And . . . and she was so pretty and so rich and so famous and she was going to be a princess and now . . .” A new cascade of tears started, and I plucked a tissue out of my pocket and handed it to her.
    I made sure I kept my voice down so Dr. Levine didn’t get wind of what we were talking about and start spreading the news. “You were supposed to be in the shop,” I reminded Brina. “But when I got here . . . when I screamed . . . I saw you coming out of Dr. Levine’s. Did you—”
    She shook her head so hard I thought it was going to come loose and go bouncing down the street. “It wasn’t my fault, Josie. Not exactly, anyway. Bert . . .” She looked over at the optometrist, and I realized I didn’t have to worry about him; he was so busy sending messages that he wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to us. “Dr. Levine, he’s got a new computer and it’s really fast and not like the clunker I have at home and he doesn’t have Internet sites blocked on his like you do on the one on your desk, and things were slow over at his place, so he came by and we started chatting, and he, like, mentioned the new computer, you know, and then he asked if I would like to see it, and there was nothing much happening here and you never told me Kate was even supposed to be here tonight and—”
    “And you weren’t watching the shop after all.” My shoulders drooped. Kate had been able to walk right in unnoticed. So had her killer. The fact that Brina was a big zero when it came to keeping an eye on my inventory paled in comparison. “Brina, you were supposed to—”
    “I know, I know. But, Josie, don’t you see, if I was here like I was supposed to be, I would have been there when Kate the Great got here and—”
    “You would have called me. You would have told me she was early. And I would have raced over here, and she wouldn’t have been here alone, and . . .”
    And I wouldn’t have allowed myself to get distracted.
    By Kaz.
    My shoulders drooped some more.
    Brina’s eyes got wide. “That’s not what I was thinking, Josie. I was thinking more like, you know, what if I was here? I might be dead, too. Or . . . or what if I was able to escape? You know, by bobbing and weaving.” Still seated, she did a weird sort of version of that. “That would make me, like, a witness. You know? Just like in the movies. And then . . . and then the killer would come after me, and I would have to go into hiding, and there would be Witness Protection and a new identity and I’d need to move to a new city and get a new job and—”
    All right, I admit it—that sounded pretty appealing.
    I didn’t mention it. But then that was because a dark sedan pulled up and Nevin Riley got out.
    “Finally!” Stan threw his hands in the air.