My breath caught in my throat. "Ben, I—"
Jacques shook his head at me. "Tomorrow, dear. You two can discuss everything then."
We were silent on the drive back to my house, and I looked at my watch. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet. When Jacques pulled into my driveway, I glanced around, hopeful, but only my car and my mother-in-law's Chevy were visible.
I sighed. "I need Greg."
He squeezed my hand. "I'm sure he'll be home as soon as he can, darling."
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. "What am I going to say to Ben and Michelle tomorrow? They're going to think I'm nuts."
He grinned wickedly. "Just let them sign the contract first, okay?"
"Oh, you!" I smiled but then grew serious again. "I can't let this go. Deep down I've always known something didn't make sense. I need to find out who did this to Paul."
Jacques gave me a grim look. "It's been twenty-five years. Where on earth would you even start?"
I blew out a long breath. "I don't know. Maybe we could find the police officer who came to the house that day. I'll do whatever I have to."
"Well, count me in."
"Jacques, this is my problem."
"You're my best friend, and I love you. I understand how much this must have tormented you all these years. Plus, we do make a great team, remember?"
I smiled. "Poirot and Hastings to the rescue." When Jacques and I had worked together at Hospitable Homes, a coworker had been murdered, and a great deal of suspicion had been thrown on me when I'd been the one to discover her body. With Jacques' help, I'd managed to clear my name and find the real killer, but we'd both almost lost our lives during the process. "You've got a deal. What would I do without you?"
Jacques turned his nose up in the air. "Let's hope you never have to find out, darling." He stepped out of the vehicle and went around to open my door. Then he kissed my cheek and hugged me. "Get some sleep. No hanky-panky with Gregory tonight. I'll pick you up around twelve-thirty."
I grinned. "See you tomorrow. And thanks."
He got behind the wheel, blew me a kiss, and zoomed off.
I unlocked the front door quietly and took my shoes off in the small foyer. I padded through the living room and into the kitchen, positive I'd find my mother-in-law removing items from my fridge and cleaning it. No such luck. I glanced into the study. No Helen there either. Maybe she was upstairs reading the boys a bedtime story, although they were hopefully asleep by now.
I ascended the stairs in my bare feet. I passed my bedroom and caught sight of Helen out of the corner of my eye. I pushed the door open all the way, and she jumped. She was rummaging through the top drawer of my nightstand. The composure I'd been struggling for all evening flew out the window.
"What are you doing in here?" I snapped.
My mother-in-law's face went crimson. "I, uh, was folding some of your laundry and putting it away for you."
What a crock. "Don't give me that. You were snooping around in my things."
She gave a small laugh. "I would never do something like that. You are way out of line, Cynthia."
"I'd say you're the one out of line. Thanks for watching the boys, and have a safe drive home." I almost said have a safe ride home on your broom, but stopped myself just in time.
She tossed her head defiantly at me. "Well, that's gratitude. My poor son. I did try to warn him, all those years ago. He could have done so much better."
I pressed my lips together tightly. Most of the time I tried to avoid confrontations with Helen, but tonight my patience was wearing thin. "I know you're going to hate hearing this, but your son happens to love me and always will. Perhaps you should find a way to deal with it."
Helen narrowed her eyes but chose to ignore my remark. "I'll see myself out." Without another word, she flounced past me and hurried down the staircase. I followed at a respectable distance while she rushed into the kitchen to retrieve her purse and tote bag. She headed for the front door, almost colliding with Darcy, who had just walked in.
"Sorry, Grandma."
"Good night, darling." Helen said to Darcy and then cut her eyes to me angrily.
"Come back when you can stay longer," I called. Not.
Darcy stared at me, puzzled. She was a beautiful girl with shoulder-length, black hair and enormous dark eyes. I put an arm around her and steered her into the kitchen.
"What was all that about?" she asked.
I waved my hand impatiently. "Just your grandmother being your grandmother. Never mind her. How was the concert?"
She made a face. "Awful. The lawn was so packed we couldn't even see them. Plus, it was hotter than hell out there."
"Darcy!"
"Sorry." She watched as I pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge. "You hardly ever drink."
"Well, I really need one tonight because of your grandmother." And thanks to the news I'd learned earlier.
Darcy turned on the faucet and helped herself to a glass of water. "Is Daddy coming home tonight?"
I reached for a wine glass in the cupboard and filled it to capacity. "He's supposed to."
"You miss him, don't you?"
I patted her cheek. "I always miss him when he goes away. Do you want something to eat?"
She shook her head. "I'm not hungry. Um, do you think we could talk for a minute?"
"Of course, honey. Come on—let's go into the living room."
She followed me, and we both plopped ourselves down onto the couch. Rusty entered the room and settled himself at our feet.
I took a long sip of my drink and then tucked my feet underneath me. "What's up?"
She stared down at the floor. "Varsity cheerleading tryouts start next week."
"I remember. We're going to carpool with Heather's mom, right?"
She bit into her lower lip. "I'm really scared I won't make it. There're a lot of girls trying out this year."
"Could you stay on junior varsity for another year?"
Darcy gazed at me with a determined glint in her eyes. "I'd rather die first. But there's a new coach for varsity this year. Everyone's saying that she's already picked out some of the girls she wants for the squad."
I opened my mouth in surprise. "Well, that isn't fair. Maybe I should talk to the principal."
"No!" Darcy begged. "That would make things worse. Please, Mom. I just was wondering if maybe I could work with a private trainer a few times. I could help pay for it with the babysitting money I've earned. I—"
"Darcy, slow down. I don't know if we can afford—" I stopped myself and stared into her mournful face, then sighed. At that moment, a light bulb clicked on inside my head. "Wait a second. I met someone tonight who used to be a choreographer for the Jets cheerleaders. Maybe she'd be willing to help."
Darcy's jaw almost hit the floor. "Oh my God. Are you totally serious?"
I grinned. "Well, I'd have to check with her first, so don't get your hopes up. But I'll see her tomorrow and promise to do what I can."
"Oh, Mommy, I love you!" She squealed and threw her arms around my neck.
"Okay, you'd better get to bed. We'll talk about it in the morning."
Darcy kissed me on the cheek and hugged me again. "Night. You're the best mother ever."
I watched her slender figure run up the carpeted staircase and smiled to myself. Today I was the world's best mom. Tomorrow could be a different story. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted.
I settled back on the couch with my wine and took another sip. My mind was already racing with things to say to Ben and Michelle tomorrow. It would be easier to do this with their support, but no matter what, I'd already decided to conduct my own investigation and wouldn't let them dissuade me.
Headlights shone through the front window, and I pulled the curtain back. Rusty barked and rushed to the front door. I watched as Greg stepped out of the vehicle and locked it with his remote. I hurried to the door and pulled it open for him. He dropped his overnight bag and lifted me o
ff my feet and into his arms.
"God, I missed you," I breathed.
Greg chuckled as he kissed me. "Mm, this is a nice welcome. Maybe I should go away more often."
"Do me a favor and don't." I ran my fingers through his curly, light brown hair, which was slightly disheveled, as usual.
Greg's bright blue eyes regarded me sharply. He shut the door behind him and stooped down to pet Rusty. "Something's wrong, baby. What is it?"
"Old ghosts," I said.
He stared, puzzled, and then put his arm around me as we settled back on the couch. "What are you talking about? Are the kids okay?"
I assured him they were fine and as quickly as I could, explained what had transpired earlier at the mansion. Greg listened patiently, his expression sober. His reaction was similar to Jacques.
"Cin, this happened twenty-five years ago. Where on earth would you start?"
"I'm going to ask Ben if he has any information to share with me," I said. "Then I'll see if I can find out who the lead investigator was on the case."
"It's a small town," Greg said. "There probably wasn't even a lead investigator back then. The police department may have handled it on their own, especially if they ruled Paul's case a suicide from the beginning."
It would have been easy to give up at that point, but I knew I couldn't. "I have to try, Greg. I need to know."
His eyes searched mine. "This note he left you. What exactly did it say?"
Oh, boy. "H-he told me he was in love with me."
Greg was silent for a few seconds as he digested this. "What about you? Were you in love with him?"
I thought I caught a hint of jealousy in my husband's tone, which was ridiculous since I hadn't even known him back then. I tried to be completely honest. "We never had that kind of relationship. I loved him as a friend, a brother. I don't know what I would have done if he'd had the chance to tell me about his feelings. I do know I wouldn't have let it ruin our friendship though."
He reached down to pet Rusty again, not saying anything.
I had to ask. "Does this bother you?"
Greg smiled, and I snuggled up against his massive chest. "No. Why would it bother me? The guy obviously had good taste. I didn't even know you back then. I guess for a split second I found myself wondering what might have happened if he'd lived. Maybe you two would have gotten married instead."
A scenario I'd never thought about before. "That's doubtful. Like I said, I didn't have those types of feelings for him."
"But if he'd admitted his love to you like he'd planned, that could have changed everything. It might have divulged feelings you never even knew you were capable of."
It was obvious Greg was trying to analyze the entire situation, something he didn't usually bother with. "I don't think so. I was meant to be with you."
He gazed into my eyes and covered my mouth with his. "Just be careful, baby. I know this is important to you, but if your theory is correct, someone has gotten away with murder for a long time. And they're not going to like you poking around."
"I'll be fine. I promise."
He kissed me again then nuzzled my neck. "I think we should go upstairs and celebrate my homecoming. What do you say?"
I was grateful he couldn't see my face at that moment. As much as I loved Greg, I had no desire for celebrating. And this was odd since I always enjoyed being with my husband. What the heck was wrong with me lately?
Greg moved his head back so that he could study my face. His expression was wounded. "You don't want to?"
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt his feelings. "I do want to. It's just—well, I think there's something going on with me."
"Yeah, I've noticed. You don't seem to be interested lately."
I winced. "God, I hate saying this, but I think I'm going through the change, and it's affecting—everything, if you know what I mean."
"Maybe you should go to the doctor and get some hormones."
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "And then what? Grow hair on my chin? Gain thirty pounds?"
He grinned. "I'd love you even if you had a mustache."
"This isn't funny, Greg. I'm getting old."
He kissed my neck and unzipped my dress down the back. "No, you're not. You're getting better. Come on. I'll prove it to you."
With a sigh, I got up from the couch and followed him to the stairs. He kissed me again, and a faint stirring somewhere reassured me that perhaps not all of my female parts were dead.
We reached the door of our bedroom. Greg opened it and then stepped back to allow me to enter first. He scooped up our cat, Sweetie, from the bed, and placed her out in the hallway, despite her meows of protest. "Yeah, I know. Everyone has an attitude around here."
Greg shut and locked the door, then turned around with that teasing grin on his face that I loved and knew all too well.
He pulled me into his arms. "This is all your fault for making me—"
I interrupted, thinking of the episode with the twins earlier. "You're not going to say the H word, are you?"
His expression was puzzled. "Happy?"
"That works too."
CHAPTER FIVE
The bright sunshine streaming through my bedroom window woke me. I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand. Ten-thirty. Holy cow. I never slept this late. I grabbed my robe from the bottom of the bed and was just about to run downstairs when Greg appeared in the doorway with a tray in his hand.
"You shouldn't have let me sleep this late," I chided. "I've got to get the kids breakfast. And Jacques will be here to pick me up at twelve-thirty."
He gestured toward the bed. "I've already fed the kids. Get back in bed, and enjoy your breakfast. That's an order, my darling."
I was both touched and pleased. "Yes, sir."
Greg placed the tray on my knees. There were fresh strawberries, eggs, toast, juice, and coffee. I stared at him, astonished. "When did you have time to do all this?"
He stretched out lazily next to me on the bed and handed me a napkin. "I've been up since six."
My mouth fell open. "Did you even sleep?"
Greg grinned as he put his arms around me and kissed me. "Who needs sleep? I feel great. Completely energized."
What the heck? Greg had driven over three hours the night before and by my calculations, had about four hours of sleep at the most. So how did he have energy when I had zero?
"I'm going through a middle-age crisis while you're aging in reverse."
He roared with laughter. "You look tired, baby. I mean, you're still gorgeous and all, but you do look kind of wiped out. Guess that's my fault, huh?"
"I believe you did have a hand in it, yes."
He grinned and removed the tray from my knees, placing it on the nightstand. "Speaking of which, I'd love to spend some more time with my beautiful wife right now." He wrapped his arms around me again while I struggled to free myself.
"Jeez Louise. What are you, Superman?" I asked.
The smile faded from his face. "Is something else going on that you're not telling me? You just don't seem yourself lately."
"I told you, it's the change. Things will get better." At least I hoped so.
"Call your doctor tomorrow, and make an appointment," he said. "How long has it been since you've had a physical?"
I got to my feet and walked over to the closet to find a skirt and blouse for my meeting with Ben and Michelle. "Um—five years? Maybe more?"
He came up behind me and put his arms around my waist. "That's way too long. And if it is what you say, maybe the doctor can prescribe something to make you feel better." He kissed my ear while I tried not to giggle.
"Okay, you have to stop. I need to jump in the shower."
He turned me around and kissed me passionately. "I could jump in with you."
"No!"
Greg smiled as he released me and then picked up the tray from the nightstand. He stood at the bedroom door, with one hand on the knob. "I'll leave you alone as long as I can h
ave a rain check tonight."
He winked and shut the door.
Sheesh. I supposed I should be thrilled that after eighteen years of marriage my husband still found me attractive. But all I wanted to do was sleep. Twenty-four hours a day. And he was acting like he could run the Boston Marathon. How was this even fair?
I showered and dressed, feeling much better afterward. I went downstairs to do the breakfast dishes. Greg was out back playing touch football with the boys while Darcy was upstairs in her room on the phone. I grabbed another cup of coffee while I waited for Jacques and thought back to what Greg had said about calling my doctor.
I hadn't seen my primary physician, Dr. Sanchez, in about seven or eight years. The last two times I'd scheduled a physical he'd been on vacation, so I'd gone to another doctor in his office instead. I was hoping he'd be available since I knew he'd worked briefly with Paul that one summer. Maybe he'd remember something that could assist me in my investigation. It was a long shot, but I didn't know where else to start right now.
I grabbed a notepad from the kitchen drawer and began to make a list of people who might be able to shed some light on the incident. I started with Ben, then the police department. Perhaps talking to some other classmates could prove useful as well. How I wish I'd done this years ago. Were Jacques and Greg right? Could I discover anything to back my theory about Paul after all these years?
I owed it to my friend to at least try.
* * *
"Are you feeling better, Cindy?" Michelle asked as she poured coffee from a silver teapot on her back terrace. "Ben said you didn't look well last night. I hope it wasn't something you ate here."
I shook my head. "Not at all. And I'm fine, thank you."
Jacques and Ben were doing a walk-through of the house. Jacques had insisted I stay put, and for once, I hadn't argued with him. Besides, I knew the place like the back of my hand. The mansion was almost 7,000 square feet, so I was happy to sit on the terrace and rest, despite the oppressive heat.
I hesitated for a moment. "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."
"Of course. Anything for an old high school chum."
Priced to Kill (Cindy York Mysteries Book 2) Page 4