Gabe and I munched on the best donuts I’d ever had and sipped our coffee while we watched the ambulance arrive and attend to the injured guy. For a killer, he sure as hell whined and cried a lot.
“Where’d you learn that trick?” Gabe asked.
“What trick? The hot coffee?”
“No, the wrist action.” Gabe rolled his eyes when he saw my mind had headed straight for the gutter. “Don’t you start with me. I’m still pissed as hell.” It was hard to take him serious with powdered sugar on his face and a smear of jelly on the corner of his mouth.
“Cosmetology school.”
“You learned how to unarm a person in beauty school?”
“No, Gabe,” I said dramatically, “I learned about the nerves traveling through our arms and hands when we were taught the proper manicure techniques at cosmetology school. Damage to the radial nerve can cause swelling and numbness in our hands and fingers. I didn’t mean to break his wrist though.”
“Don’t lose a second of sleep over it,” Holden said, walking up to us after the ambulance drove off with a police escort.
“He’s not remorseful about killing Brittany and attempting to kill her husband,” Bernard added.
“He confessed?” Gabe and I both asked.
“Not yet, but it’s early still. Speaking of which,” Holden said, “why don’t you give me your statement of events so you can get on your way home.”
The interview didn’t take long because my interaction with the man, who turned out to be David the bellhop from Tarlington House, was brief. I talked about my run-in with William and how they appeared to be casually speaking when I pulled out of the parking lot. David hadn’t said much before I took him down, so there wasn’t much to tell.
Gabe and I were loaded up and back on the highway heading north in less than an hour. It would’ve been quicker, but Gabe and I had a hard time letting go of each other long enough to function. We’d had a very close call, and it reminded us of how fragile life was and how a person had to live each moment to the fullest because there was no guarantee you’d see the next one. Sometimes, people go out to get ice cream and never come home; sometimes, hateful illnesses rob us of the people we love the most; and sometimes, we fall off the equipment at the gym and lose ten years of memories. I squeezed Gabe’s hand on the console between the seats. As tragic as those things are, the walking dead are the saddest, and I don’t mean a zombie apocalypse. I’m talking about the people who are alive but don’t know it. They’ve accepted defeat without trying because they haven’t realized failure is part of success.
“You haven’t said much since we got on the road,” Gabe said, breaking into my thoughts.
“I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
“How lucky I am, and how much I love our life. I love you so much, Gabe.”
“I love you too, Sunshine.”
A few years ago, I wasn’t capable of this type of conversation, because I was the king of the walking dead. I went through the motions of life and even experienced a lot of success and love from friends and family, but I wasn’t living until this man barged into my life.
I released his hand and picked up the paperback copy that Mrs. Holden gave me. “Do you remember what chapter you were on?”
“Twenty,” Gabe replied.
“I was only a few chapters ahead of you, but I don’t mind reading them again.” I opened the book to chapter twenty and began to read out loud, hoping Alice would find the happily ever after she deserved.
THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.
Running babies, a barking dog, a meddlesome cat winding her way between my legs, two cussing birds, a feisty ferret, and a huge group of people talking at the same time had never sounded so good or felt so right. All our friends showed up when they heard we’d arrived safely. I wasn’t even aware they’d known about the incident because Josh and I agreed not to worry our family and friends. Adrian knew, of course, because Holden called the station to verify my identity. I knew damn well he didn’t tell anyone.
“Wait a minute!” I said, raising the arm not holding Destiny to get their attention. “How’d you guys even know what happened in South Carolina?”
“YouTube,” they all said at the same time. Apparently, someone didn’t feel brave enough to help Josh, but they didn’t mind pointing a camera phone in his direction. That person never wanted to run into me on the street somewhere, because I had words for LuvUrself92, whose channel was filled with ridiculousness.
“We called your cell phone at least a hundred times since the video went viral,” Meredith said, gesturing between herself and Chaz. “Why didn’t you answer us?” She was so mad she wouldn’t let either of us hold Victoria.
“The David guy stomped my phone and broke it,” Josh told her. “How viral?”
“Nearly a million views already,” Mere replied.
“You could’ve called Gabe’s phone. He used it to let our parents know we were coming home a day early.”
Chaz snorted. “Like he’d tell us any of the good details. What the hell happened to you guys this week?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“We like long stories,” Kyle replied. “Start at the beginning, and don’t give us the crap about being too tired after a long drive. Pizza is on the way, Chaz is going to raid your refrigerator and put a salad together, and Jon brought liquor. You’re surrounded by the people who love you, so take a deep breath, release it slowly, and tell us everything you know.”
It was a long drive, and I was tired, but I could see they weren’t budging without details. Capitulation was my only option unless I had them forcefully removed from our home. “I can’t tell you everything I know.”
Bernard called me with an update when we were midway through Kentucky. Josh didn’t just break the guy’s wrist; he dislocated it at the joint which required surgery. Bernard said they wouldn’t be able to interview the guy until he came down off his pain meds. The courts frowned upon the law enforcement community conducting interviews when suspects were high on any substance.
By running his fingerprints through the system, they learned that David used a false identity to get a job at Tarlington House. David was his real first name, but the last name provided to Geneva and the one on his ID was fake. David Thomas was actually David Dubrowski from Atlanta, a convicted felon who was out on parole. David was a con artist, thief, and must’ve decided to add killer to his resume. Bernard made some calls to the Atlanta PD and talked to the detectives who arrested Dubrowski after a string of robberies and scams to rob the elderly. He learned that the APD suspected his girlfriend, Brittany Alexander, was his accomplice but couldn’t prove it.
It seemed ten years in the slammer weren’t enough for David to get over Brittany Alexander Blake, aka Petal, but she didn’t seem to have trouble moving on from him. William had undergone emergency surgery and appeared to be holding his own in the ICU but wasn’t able to talk to Holden and Bernard yet. Olivia, aka Georgia, told detectives Brittany had shown no signs of even recognizing the bellhop, and she believed Brittany would’ve confided in her if she felt like her life was in danger. He’d only worked for Geneva for less than a month and had gotten along well with the staff at Tarlington House.
The guy must’ve started stalking Brittany when he was released a few months prior and carefully planned when he would see her again. How did he know about her travel plans? Did he plan to kill her all along, or did he hope they’d pick up where they left off if they ran into each other again? Only David could answer those questions, and I was certain Bernard or Holden would let me know the outcome of their interview. They did find the stolen items in the trunk of his car, and Geneva confirmed that she and all the employees knew of the secret passages inside the home, but all of them interviewed said they never wanted to travel through them for various reasons ranging from lurking spiders and the creepy factor to it feeling like an egregious
invasion of privacy. That was how they suspected David was able to spy on guests and steal our things without getting caught.
“Okay, gather around for story time, kids,” I said. “Once upon a time…”
“No, Gabe.” Josh shook his head emphatically, making Dylan laugh at Daddy. “We don’t start off horror stories with those precious words.”
“Wait,” Bill said suddenly. “Why don’t Al and I take the kids outside to swim so they don’t hear things they shouldn’t.”
“Good call,” Al said to Bill. “Our wives will be able to repeat this story to us verbatim later.”
“Here’s the deal,” I said after the big kids went outside to swim, earning a nod of approval from my husband. “I wanted to surprise Josh with a murder mystery weekend at this historical inn called Tarlington House. Little did I know, we would become players in a real-life murder mystery.” I had everyone’s attention then.
I wove them a tale of salacious sex, swingers, and succulent drama. Josh would break in occasionally to add his observations and interactions. We had them eating out of our hands.
“So, they all showed up with fake personas?” my mom asked.
“To a point,” I replied. “A few used their real names but made up their jobs while others made everything up. It was like a vacation from their real lives or something.” I didn’t feel comfortable sharing their real identities while the investigation was still ongoing. It was something that could hurt careers and negatively impact lives. I thought about Candace and how she played a young Hollywood starlet with the baby-soft voice when she was really an astrophysicist who worked for NASA. Her mother, Michelle, or Mitzi for short, truly was a former beauty queen like she’d said. She had been Miss Alabama and first runner-up for Miss America.
The feud between Brittany, aka Petal, and Beatrice, aka Bonnie, started in college. After David went to prison, it appeared Brittany had tried to clean her life up. She enrolled at Georgia University where she met Beatrice and her brother, Clarence, and of course, William who was Beatrice’s fiancé at the time. William and Clarence both fell in love with Brittany, but she chose William, leaving the Danner siblings bitter and angry. Was it a coincidence the four of them chose to attend the Tarlington House murder mystery event, or was something else going on? The Danners insisted it was a shocking coincidence, and the detectives didn’t have evidence to prove otherwise. Dylan and Olivia, aka George and Georgia, were exactly as they claimed to be. Dylan was an investment banker rolling in big money and Olivia was his bored wife. They liked engaging in the swinging lifestyle and had no intention of changing their ways. As Dylan pointed out, their swapping couples or engaging in orgies had nothing to do with Brittany’s death.
By the time we were done telling the story, our friends had demolished the pizza. Josh and I were too tired and overwhelmed to eat, but I did enjoy a few beers, and Josh drank two glasses of wine.
“It’s a lot to take in,” Harley said, shaking his head.
“Tell me about it,” Josh said dryly. “It felt like we were trapped in an episode of The Twilight Zone.”
“It sounds like the first few days were fun though,” Bertie said.
Josh smiled happily at me. “They were the best, but we’re so glad to be home now.”
“That’s our cue to get out,” Meredith said.
“We didn’t get to hold Tori,” Josh said with a pout.
“I’ll bring her back tomorrow after you’ve had a good night of rest. You can smooch her little face while I float in the pool.”
“Fine, but just one little kiss tonight,” Josh pleaded. “I apologized profusely for worrying you.”
“Okay,” Meredith agreed. Josh leaned over and kissed Tori’s head. Then he inhaled deeply. “Hey now. I didn’t say anything about you snorting her baby essence up your nose.”
Meredith carried Tori over to me so I could kiss her goodnight too. This hectic week didn’t do anything to change my mind about growing our family. In fact, it made me eager to make it happen quicker. I just needed to find the right time to start convincing my husband.
“I’m ready for another baby,” I said after I got back inside from seeing our friends and family off. Our folks had offered to stay the night so we could sleep in, but the truth was, I wasn’t turning loose of our kids. Josh didn’t know it yet, but I was breaking the sage rule of no kids in bed.
Josh tipped his head to the side. I knew he was thinking of everything we experienced the past week and the lessons we learned—both in fiction and real life. Waiting for the perfect moment was a setup for disappointment because no such thing existed. There was only now. “Okay, but I want some things in return.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
“I don’t want you to throw a fit when I have a celebration next week thanking Trent and Tucker for taking such good care of Meredith when she went into labor at the salon. I’m telling you I saw some awesome sparks between them, and I’m going to—”
“Meddle?”
“Encourage,” Josh replied.
“Fine,” I said. “One dinner. Now, what are the rest of your demands?”
“I want to start a monthly book club at our house.”
“Deal.” I couldn’t imagine why he thought I’d protest that one. What the hell did he plan on reading, and would there be scene reenactments?
“There goes the neighborhood,” Sassy squawked.
Savage started singing “Highway to Hell” and bopping his head to the imaginary beat.
Josh and I exchanged knowing looks. Our dads were teaching them new material while we were gone, and the birds were biding their time before they revealed it. I’d already been called a fucknugget, Josh was called a twat waffle, and they told us both to shove a cock in it. The birds were obviously pissed about our absence.
“Damn, I love this life,” Josh and I both said.
Three months later…
“HOW MUCH LONGER UNTIL you turn off your curling iron for the night?” Gabe asked when I answered his call. Not hello, not how are you, and not I miss you. He wanted to know how long before I got home. I’d just finished with my last client, but I wasn’t so eager to share that detail with him yet.
“Hello to you too, Gabe.” My tone expressed what my polite words could not. Mrs. Sanderson’s eyes met mine in the mirror. We rolled them together in commiseration.
“He probably wants to know what’s for dinner,” she whispered.
“I do not,” Gabe groused. “I got a call from our caseworker at DCS. They have—”
“Oh my God! We’re getting a baby tonight?” Everyone in the salon started clapping.
“Well, um…”
“Two babies?” I asked.
“Um…”
“Gabriel!”
Mrs. Sanderson chuckled as she rose to her feet and removed her cape. She kissed my cheek and wished me luck before heading to the counter to pay and book her next service.
“Just tell me what time I can swing by and pick you up. Our parents are here with Dylan and Destiny now.”
“I just need to sweep up my mess, and I—”
“Be right there,” Gabe said excitedly and hung up. I’d chosen to walk to work that morning to enjoy the autumn weather before it turned nasty.
“What’s going on?” Mere asked.
“I think Gabe and I are about to adopt a basketball team.” Why did I sound so calm? The deal was we would adopt one more child and maybe another one in the distant future. I didn’t even know how many kids Gabe was talking about, but I realized it didn’t matter. I was calm because it felt right.
“See you all in the morning,” I said after I finished sweeping up my station.
“You better call me later tonight,” Mere said.
“That’s a given. Love you, Mere.”
I headed out front to wait for Gabe. I loved the crisp October air and couldn’t wait for Trick or Treat to show off the cutest toddler Halloween costumes ever. I found ideas on Pinterest on how to decorate
the little red wagons Destiny and Dylan would ride in. Then I realized my carefully orchestrated plans would need to be modified based on the outcome of our evening.
Gabe barely stopped our snazzy new minivan in front of the salon long enough for me to get in. “I think you left tire marks back there, Captain Caravan.”
Gabe ignored my crack and went right to the heart of the matter. “I know this isn’t what we originally planned, but these kids have been through so much. We can’t separate them.”
“What if they don’t like us? This isn’t a unilateral decision we can make, Gabe.” I could see he had his hopes up high, and I couldn’t bear to see him hurt. “Let’s meet the kids and see how it goes. No pressure.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
Marsha was waiting for us when we arrived at the Carter County Department of Children Services. “Hello, guys,” she said softly. “I know you were thinking about adopting a baby, but you’re the first family I thought of when the Newman siblings arrived today.” She sounded so nervous like we might reject the kids outright, and I hated it so much.
I placed my hand on her forearm. “Breathe, Marsha.”
“I told Gabe about the circumstances requiring our intervention. Did he have time to discuss it with you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t need to know the details right now. I want to meet the kids without anything clouding my judgment.” The kids deserved someone seeing them and not their tragedy. “Let’s go say hello.”
“Fair enough, but I need to point out that I don’t believe this will be a temporary situation. These kids will need a permanent home where they will find patience and unconditional love.” Marsha led us to a room in the rear of the building. My previous calmness fled, and my heart raced as I neared the door. I knew something amazing awaited me—us—and the feeling of rightness intensified. Then Marsha opened the door, and my heart caught in my throat.
“Josh and Gabe,” Marsha said calmly, “I’d like you to meet Darius, Matteo, and Rochelle Newman. Darius is seven, Matteo is five, and Rochelle is three.”
Ride or Dye (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #6) Page 17