Two Ghosts & a Love Song (Dead by the Numbers Mysteries Book 2)

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Two Ghosts & a Love Song (Dead by the Numbers Mysteries Book 2) Page 17

by Jennifer Fischetto


  I nod. "Uh-huh."

  "I don't know. I don't think it's a public place."

  I bite my bottom lip. Yeah, probably not.

  "I know her boss though."

  That's good. It's a start in case Serena isn't forthcoming. "Oh, is this why she doesn't want me looking into your death? Because I'll find out she's an escort? And why you didn't seem forthcoming too?"

  "Yes."

  It all makes sense now. This could mean she's not guilty after all, which means my suspect pool goes from one to zero. That just means I have to dig deeper.

  "Okay, who's the boss? Wait, doesn't that mean this person is a madam? Is it a woman?" The excitement in my voice is undeniable. I probably shouldn't sound so darn happy considering the circumstances, but this is my first madam.

  "Yes, it is. It's the owner of Sparks. Natalia Kane."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Once again, sleeping is futile. I get out of bed bright and early and drive to Enzo's house—sans breakfast, a cup of morning joe, or fixing my hair, which isn't easy when it's curly. I can't just brush it without looking like the Bride of Frankenstein. I have to rewet it, comb it through, and allow it to naturally dry. Who has time for that? At least I put the unruly mess into a ponytail, and I brushed my teeth.

  I'm not surprised Enzo's door is unlocked again, but I am starting to get concerned. This early, he probably hasn't left the house yet, so did he forget to lock up behind him when he came in last night? That's not responsible, and if Ma finds out, she'll go ballistic. Oh, wait. This is her baby boy. She'd go ballistic on me or Izzie but would probably give Enzo a stern, but not too stern, lecture. Ma says she doesn't have favorites, but Izzie and I aren't blind. Ma treats him differently. I think that deep down she feels he's not as capable when it comes to "girl" things, like cooking, cleaning, taking care of himself. Ma can be sexist.

  I go in and expect the unexpected, which has now become the expected, like him lying in a vat of ketchup. But the living room is empty, as well as the kitchen and dining area. The bathroom door is shut, and I hear running water. So I do the only thing a little sister should do. I run into his room, drop onto my knees on the floor, and slide under his bed feetfirst. Thank goodness his bed frame isn't one of those platform ones. I wiggle under until I get to my butt, then I have to push my pelvis into the plush, gray carpet. This would be easier if he had hardwood floors like at my place.

  Another minute goes by, and the bathroom door opens. I pray he comes into his bedroom and doesn't just walk straight out the door, otherwise this is all for nothing. But because the sneaky, prank Gods are shining on me, he enters the room. I watch his black, sock-covered feet walk to the tall dresser, which is mere inches from the right side of his bed.

  I don't hesitate. If I wait too long, he may move, and I'll lose my chance. I reach out my arm and grab his ankle.

  He screams, in that high-pitched kind of way that makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  I laugh my butt off. Well, not completely off since wiggling out from under the bed is still difficult.

  "Gianna!" His face is red, and his breathing is irregular. Just the way it should be after a successful scare.

  I point at him and laugh some more. "You totally deserve that, and you know it."

  He huffs and storms into the other room, but I notice the slight smirk on his face. He knows I'm right, but he'll never admit it. I follow him into the living room, where he sits on the couch to put on his shiny, black shoes. His uniform looks pressed. He'd never go to work with wrinkles. Unlike me, who picks up yesterday's clothes off the floor to wear today.

  "If you're here because you need help, I'm never helping you again. Ever."

  I chuckle. "But helping me helps you. You are the one who wants to make detective, and what better way to do that than with the help of our dead friends?"

  "Dead people are your friends, not mine. And how did you get in here?"

  "The door was unlocked. Again. You really should be more careful about that, what with you being a cop and all."

  He huffs again and rolls his eyes. I'm so glad I can make his morning a little brighter. He stands and walks across the room to the shelves by the television. He opens his lockbox, pulls out his gun, and slips it into the holster at his waist. "If you need something, you better speak quickly. I need to leave soon. And since when are you up so early?"

  There's so much animosity in his tone that I'm not sure if I want to share right now. Maybe I should wait until he's more prone to being open-minded. If I do it now, he may do something by the book just to get back at me for scaring him. Telling him about Serena being an escort was at the top of my list when I arrived. But suddenly I'm not so sure. I obviously didn't think this through well enough as I tossed and turned all night. I spent most of the time thinking about Natalia being a madam, trying to fall asleep, and punching my pillow because it's so flat. I need new ones. Maybe Izzie will be in the mood for another shopping trip.

  Anyway, what I planned to tell Enzo didn't really come up while I was in my bed. I just figured his place was the first to stop at when I finally put on yesterday's clothes. But now that I think about it clearly, it doesn't feel right. If I tell Enzo the truth, he'll be obligated to either investigate or tell the detectives, and I'm not so sure that she and Natalia should be arrested. I mean, really, what harm are they doing?

  I run a hand over my face, realizing that I just stepped into that gray zone Julian lives in. This is what he means about everything being not so black and white. His job requires him to do things that aren't always right, and now I'm stuck in the same place. Granted, he gets paid for his job. I can't put mine on my résumé, but in the end it feels the same.

  "Well?" Enzo is staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

  "Um, I wanted to tell you what I learned about the dead guy. His real name is Frank Mason."

  Enzo nods. "Okay, great. Thanks."

  And just like that, I lied to my brother, the cop, and enter the land of in between.

  * * *

  After leaving Enzo's, I head straight to Zoe's. I'm hoping that arriving early means Serena will be there, and that she'll be so tired and-slash-or surprised by my questions that she'll just regurgitate answers without thinking too hard about what she's telling me. I park in an empty space across from her building and head up to apartment 4A—according to the info Julian showed me the other day.

  Zoe opens the door and squints at me. She's dressed in pink-and-white plaid pajama pants, and a long-sleeve, pink T-shirt. "Hi," she says and has to clear her throat to erase the scratchiness.

  "Hey, sorry to knock so early, but I'm hoping Serena is here."

  She doesn't ask how I know where she lives. See, the early morning element of surprise. "Sure. Come in." She steps back, so I can enter.

  I step into the living room-slash-dining-slash-kitchenette. It's a lot like my apartment but with more space and much better furniture. Is Zoe an escort too? That could explain how she can afford a glass-topped coffee table, a royal blue sofa, a hot pink, armless armchair, and lots of plants that open the space up. Everything looks brand new, and the upholstery appears to come with a hefty price tag. Not that I feel envious at all, although I'm suddenly contemplating a career as an escort.

  A folded blanket, sheet, and pillow sit on the end of the sofa. Serena must already be up. Zoe points to the pot of brewing coffee on the kitchen counter. "Do you want a cup?"

  "No, thanks. I can't stay long." As soon as I leave, I plan on going home and raiding my fridge. I'm suddenly famished.

  A door opens in the not-so-far distance, and I hear footsteps head toward us. Serena rounds the corner and steps into the room. She blinks twice at me. "What are you doing here?"

  Good morning to you too. "I was hoping we could chat for a bit."

  She yawns wide. "It's kinda early."

  Zoe is turned toward Mr. Coffee, but I see her giving us sideway glances. This isn't going to be easy. I need to find a way to get he
r alone, just in case Zoe makes really good tips or has a rich Daddy.

  "Yeah, sorry about that. Did you have a late night? Were you out with Don?"

  The color pales from her face, and she freezes for a moment. Then she glances to Zoe, who's still pretending to ignore us, and finally says, "Zo, would you mind giving us a minute?"

  Zoe faces us and opens and closes her mouth a few times. She looks like she feels out of place in her own home. "Oh, yeah."

  "Sorry," Serena says. "This is your place. It's just that she and I need to discuss stuff about Thom…um, you know, my fiancé."

  Zoe nods and heads toward the doorway. "No, yeah, that's fine. I'll go get dressed."

  Serena watches her leave and waits until a door clicks before she turns on me and asks, "What are you talking about?" It comes out all sunshine-and-roses sounding.

  I get why she's keeping it a secret. Really, I do. I wouldn't want to have to wear an orange jumpsuit either. But I'm so tired of having to pump information out of people.

  I rub my right temple. A headache is already forming. It's too early for this. I want to ask her to stop lying and playing games, but I can't imagine that will endear me to her, so instead I say, "I haven't brought this up because I figured you wouldn't want to talk about it, but after everything that's happened, we should probably just be straight with one another."

  She widens her eyes. She may appear innocent, but I know she understands what I'm referring to. "What do you mean?"

  I start to say Frank but remember that she may not know his real name yet, and it may be too suspicious if I have that information as well. "Your fiancé told me about Don and your escort job."

  She looks to the doorway Zoe disappeared through. "Sshh!" She says it so loud and fast, spittle hits my cheek.

  I wipe it away with the end of my sleeve.

  "Not everyone needs to know my business. It's bad enough you do."

  "That means Zoe isn't an escort too?"

  She frowns. "I didn't say that. But we don't share the details with one another. It's just better to keep that stuff quiet."

  So Zoe goes on the suspect list too. It would be pretty messed up if Serena was staying with Frank's killer.

  "I can't believe Thom…he told you. Why would he betray me like that?"

  Crap. I don't want her to think he shared her secret with me. I don't want her memories of him to be more tainted than they already are. She has to be questioning everything he ever said and all the plans they made with him being a con artist. "He didn't mean to mention it. It kinda slipped out, and you know me. I'm nosy and ask a lot of questions." I chuckle to lighten the mood.

  She nods and looks quite serious.

  Gee, thanks.

  She grabs my arm lightly. Her silvery glitter polish shimmers in the light. "Okay, but you can't tell anyone."

  "I don't want to, but I'm thinking that maybe someone you know from that job is the one who placed the bomb."

  She frowns and shakes her head. "That doesn't make sense. No one hated me."

  "Are you sure? Maybe a wife found out what her husband was up to."

  She continues shaking her head. "No, I'm not a mistress. Just a one-night hire. If I'm not available, he'll just hire a different girl. An angry wife would be better off killing her husband."

  That's true. "Well, do you have any enemies? Anyone you fought with recently, or even not so recently?"

  There goes that shaking head. I'm starting to wonder if she's having a seizure. She lets go of my arm. "No. No one I can think of."

  Sleuthing looks so much easier on TV.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, I'm at my shift at the deli, and Julian comes in. Warmth immediately spreads throughout me. Just seeing him makes me smile, and this time I'm not thinking dirty bits. I simply like seeing him. He looks casual today in fitted, dark blue jeans and a light blue, thin-knit sweater. It's somewhat fitted and stretches across his tight biceps. Gosh, I love those arms.

  When I focus on his face, his smile is wider. He glances down at his arm area, to where I was staring. "Something fascinating?" he asks.

  Yes, but I'm not about to gush over his arms in front of Pop. Awkward. I shake my head.

  He walks to the register and puts out his hand for Pop to shake. "How are you doing, sir?"

  I get giddy at his formality.

  "Good. How's the PI Business?" Pop asks.

  My stomach tightens. Even though I've told my folks my fair share of lies over my lifetime, especially covering for Izzie in high school, I feel guilty doing so.

  Pop walks into the back to give us our space. He's nice like that. There are no customers, and he probably doesn't want to see his daughter kissing a man—any man. Father's are weird like that.

  I step out from around the counter and walk into Julian's embrace. He kisses me lightly on the mouth, as if it's an everyday occurrence, and we've been doing it all of our lives. I like it. Not just the kiss, although it's pretty special, but the comfortable feel of it all.

  "Why are you here?" I lay my ear against his chest and listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Not that I'm complaining."

  He wraps his arms around me tighter and leans his chin on the top of my head. "I missed you."

  I smile, close my eyes, and snuggle into his arms more. "That's nice."

  "Maybe we should try this date thing after your friend passes on."

  I look up at him and grin. "That might be best. Hopefully it won't be too long. I got Serena to admit she's an escort."

  He raises his brows and pulls back. "How'd you manage that?"

  "I can be very persuasive."

  He chuckles. "Yes, you can. So now what?"

  I wish I knew. "I'm going to see how close I can get to Natalia."

  His surprised expression turns to disapproval with a deep frown. "Are you going to pose as an escort?"

  "No." Actually I haven't considered that. "I don't think so. Maybe it would help. What do you think?"

  He scoffs. "Do you really need to ask? I don't want my girlfriend working as an escort, whether it's undercover or not."

  I smirk. "So I'm back to being your girlfriend?"

  "You referred to me as your boyfriend last night."

  I think back. "I did, huh, and you didn't call me on it."

  "You were preoccupied singing."

  "Ssshh." I glance at the kitchen door, making sure Pop can't hear us. "I haven't told anyone else yet."

  "Why not? You were amazing."

  I smile, and my cheeks warm. "I'm not ready yet, but I will." Eventually.

  "Okay, well, I need to get back to the office. I'll talk to you soon, girlfriend."

  Is this really it? Are we back together?

  "Yes, later."

  He pulls me up against him and gives me a proper, firm kiss on the mouth. I want to go deeper, but he pulls back and heads to the door.

  I wave bye, and my finger starts tingling. Oh no!

  Julian turns the corner, out of sight, and Freezer Dude appears in front of me.

  I don't want anything to do with him, so I turn to go back behind the counter. "I don't have time for you," I whisper.

  But he materializes directly in front of me again. I could run down the street, and he'd always be right there. "I need your help."

  I laugh. "You're not serious."

  "Look, I don't like this either. You're the last person I want to ask a favor from, but you're the only one who can see me."

  I'm about to tell him that's not true, but it's not fair if I toss him at Mystic Aurora. Plus, she seemed pretty freaked out when she saw him. She's a newbie.

  "I won't leave you alone until you help me, so you may as well do it."

  I roll my eyes. He would annoy the heck out of me too. I'll never get time alone with Julian if I don't give in. "Fine. What do you want?"

  The kitchen door swings open, and Pop comes out holding a loaf of rye bread. "Julian gone?"

  "Yeah, he had to go back to work." I turn
my back to Pop and pretend I'm checking the salad levels.

  Freezer Dude floats to my side. "I want you to talk to my daughter for me."

  Well, it's about time. I know I'm foolish to hope that he may move on once I do this, but I can't help it. It's the one thing every other ghost wants, and afterwards, they usually feel settled.

  "Fine," I whisper. "Later."

  Pop looks at me. "Did you say something?"

  "Nope, just talking to myself."

  Pop goes back into the kitchen.

  I turn to see Freezer Dude is still here. I want him gone, so my finger will stop throbbing. "What else do you want?"

  He narrows his eyes and gets right up in my face. "You better not go back on your word."

  Then he disappears, and I'm left standing there with an intense chill. At least my finger stops tingling.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  When I get off work, I drive over to Deborah Young's and park in front of her house. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do without Freezer Dude filling me in, or how long I have to wait for him to show up. I never gave him a time. I close my eyes and think of his white hair and icy blue eyes, visualizing him before me. My finger throbs fast and furious. I open them and look over.

  He materializes in my passenger seat. Did I just make that happen? That is so cool. Too bad I can't do that with the ghosts who don't freak me out.

  "What do you want me to say to her?" I ask. "And how am I supposed to know this information?"

  He's staring at the house. "I don't see any lights on, and her car isn't here."

  I roll my eyes. Why didn't I pay attention to that? "Great. So I made the trip for nothing. You know, you could check these things out beforehand."

  He faces me with his brows forming a unibrow. "She was home when I found you earlier."

  "I was working. I can't just leave."

  "It's your family deli. What are they going to do if you walk out? Disown you?"

  "Clearly you have no idea how to be a family member. You don't just leave them high and dry."

  He gets a stricken look on his face, and I realize this is exactly what he did when he went to prison.

 

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