“It was all you had left of them,” he said as more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah. I miss them every day. My dad had an old MG that he’d restored, and it was forever having problems of one kind or another. They were driving it up to a cabin they had in the Poconos when the brakes decided to stop working and the steering seized up. The car went over a cliff, and they both died instantly. They would have wanted to go together. They were a team. One of the most solid units I’ve ever seen.”
I took a drink of water to wet my throat that was suddenly dry with grief. I didn’t bother to mention that even though their deaths had been ruled accidental, there had been suspicion of it being a double suicide. Floyd Parker had been more than happy to print that little tidbit in his newspaper.
“But it feels good to be back in Bloody Mary,” I finally said. “It feels right. I didn’t realize how much I missed the subtle nuances of a small town until I moved back.”
“Subtle?” Brody asked with a smile. “I wouldn’t say subtle was exactly what I was thinking when that woman at the grocery store asked me if I was financially stable enough to support a wife and if I had all my own teeth. I was under the impression she had a single daughter.”
“That sounds like Hilda, but you might want to stay clear of her if she’s looking for a husband for Cleo. She got her older daughter married off by calling Roy Henderson to come fix a leak in her basement, but as soon as he went down the stairs she threw Georganne down right behind him. She’d planned it all out and left food and water down there for them, and when she let them out a couple of weeks later, Georganne was pregnant, and then they had to get married. Of course, it was dark down there, and Roy didn’t see what Georganne really looked like until they came out.”
Brody was laughing, and I realized this was just what I’d needed. “You’re joking,” he said.
“Their fifth is due in a couple of weeks,” I said, shaking my head. “And Mrs. Martin didn’t have to do any time for kidnapping after the charges were dropped. She means well.”
“Just so,” Brody said. “I think I’ll stay away from the grocery store.”
“You are wise beyond your years,” I said solemnly.
“So tell me,” he said. “Do I have reason to be jealous of the sheriff?”
That was a pretty strong declaration as to where he saw this thing between us going as far as I was concerned. “Jack’s the best friend I’ve ever had. But he’s like a brother to me.”
“Excellent,” he said, smiling.
After my initial nervousness wore off things went smoothly. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so comfortable around someone who wasn’t Jack. The champagne was gone, and somewhere during dessert we’d scooted closer to each other. My brain was warm and a little fuzzy, so it seemed perfectly natural for Brody to put his arm around me. My body seemed to fit his like a puzzle piece when he pulled me closer against him.
“We should go,” he whispered next to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine. I looked around the restaurant and realized there were very few people left inside. How long had we sat there talking?
“Are you going to invite me in for a cup of coffee?” he asked.
“It would probably be rude not too,” I said.
We were lost only in each other. The quiet voices and clatter from the restaurant disappeared. And when his lips brushed mine ever so gently, I began to feel whole again.
Chapter Twelve
I was such a slut.
Hallelujah.
It was still dark out when I woke with the feeling that something was different. An arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me close against a hard muscled body. My brain finally switched on and the panic receded. Oh yeah. I remembered now. Who knew what inviting a person in for coffee would lead to?
“Go back to sleep,” Brody mumbled.
Obviously, Brody wasn’t a morning person. He was probably used to calling his own hours, but I was wide awake, and all I could think of was how I’d spent the night. My cashmere dress had ended up somewhere. Maybe the front porch, I couldn’t really remember, and I was almost sure my shoes were still in Brody’s car. I’d also been right about the underwear. They’d been much too fragile.
But my problems hadn’t been solved with one night of passion. I had something new to worry about now: The awkward morning after.
What did I look like first thing in the morning?
Usually I got out of bed, only wearing an oversized t-shirt I’d grabbed out of a drawer the night before, poured a cup of coffee and took it directly into the shower with me, bypassing all mirrors on my way. I was going to have to go to the Square and buy some lingerie and nighties if this was going to be a continual thing.
And what was the etiquette on morning breath? Should I get up and brush my teeth before I ravished Brody again?
“I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head,” Brody said. “I can’t possibly imagine how you’d have enough energy to think after last night.”
Before I was able to come up with a solution about my morning dilemmas, Brody rolled me over and was looking down at me. He was way more alert than I’d originally thought.
“You’re a lovely sight to see first thing in the morning,” he said, running his finger down the side of my face. “Even if it is so godawful early.”
Whew. At least that question was answered. And then he kissed me, and I forgot what I was worrying about to begin with. I’d learned how thorough Brody was the night before. As far as I was concerned, Brody was the Christopher Columbus of sex, discovering new worlds at every turn. Boy, when he set his mind to something, there was no stopping him.
The sky was turning pink when I finally got my eyes uncrossed and my breath back. “I think I’m paralyzed,” I said.
Brody’s snores filled the room in answer. So much for afterglow. I was glad I had the time to myself because I realized Brody Collins was a man who could break my heart. I was already more than half in love with him. And not just because of the sex either.
I slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on a robe and made my way down the stairs out of habit. I tried to think of something breakfast-like I could eat while the coffee brewed. I found some leftover spaghetti and put it in the microwave, and then just for the hell of it I looked at my reflection in the toaster. My hair stuck out in all directions and mascara was smudged under my eyes so I looked like a raccoon.
I needed to get to the funeral home and take care of any additional details for Fiona’s funeral. On the Sunday mornings I didn’t have to work, I could be found at the sunrise service at St. Paul’s. My dad always said church was the perfect place to advertise the business. John Luke Stranton, who owned the other funeral home in the county, went to Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Church, so between the two of us we had our claims staked.
Phyllis had opted to have a graveside service, even though I’d tried to talk her out of it due to the weather. She’d wanted the ceremony to be quick and quiet, and I guess having a funeral service after a night of snow and freezing temperatures would ensure that.
I ate the spaghetti and drank my coffee in the shower and thought life couldn’t get much better. By the time I went back to the bedroom to tell Brody goodbye, I was feeling as good as I had in years. I sat a cup of coffee on the nightstand and laughed a little as he rolled over and blindly grabbed for it.
“Whatimsit?” he asked. Or at least I think that’s what he said.
“It’s still shy of eight. I just wanted to let you know I’ve got to go in to the funeral home.”
“Oh, good. I thought you were waking me up to have sex again.”
“Nah, you look pretty puny right now. You should probably go back to sleep for a couple of hours and save up your energy. Feel free to help yourself to the shower and whatever’s in the kitchen. I’m going to be tied up for most of the day.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got some research to do, and then I need to work a few hours this aftern
oon. Mrs. Baker gave me a suite so I can use one of the rooms as an office.”
“Ohmigod. I forgot about Mrs. Baker. She’s going to notice you didn’t come back last night.”
“So what?” he asked, confused.
“Don’t you understand?”
“Obviously not.”
“Stanley Lipinski saw us last night when you stopped for gas.”
“What does that have to do with Mrs. Baker?”
“Everybody knows that Stanley always eats Sunday morning brunch at Mrs. Baker’s. And it’ll only be a matter of time before she mentions that you never came back last night. And then that’s when he’ll say he saw us together at the gas station all fancied up. Then one thing will lead to another and they’ll put two and two together to figure out you spent last night here.”
Brody was laughing by the time I finished explaining. “You’re weird,” he said. “Is it such a bad thing that people know I stayed the night? King George County doesn’t stone women that have pre-marital sex, do they?”
“Shut up. It’s not really a big deal,” I said. “It just makes my life more complicated.”
He was fully awake now, the coffee and the subject matter having gotten his attention. I’d just gotten off the bed to distance myself and leave for the funeral parlor without saying anything else too embarrassing when he grabbed my hand. “Would you like me to complicate it again tonight?”
I did my best to keep myself from jumping for joy. “That would probably be best,” I said. “The damage has already been done.”
I left him laughing and realized I couldn’t keep the grin from my face. I hoped I could get it under control before the funeral, or I might have some serious explaining to do.
Chapter Thirteen
“You’d better get that grin off your face or everyone’s going to know you slept with the writer,” Jack said by way of greeting.
Heat rushed to my face and I ran my fingers through my hair like I usually do when I’m embarrassed or nervous. I’d been standing in front of the casket display of flowers for God knows how long.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said with way more bravado than I was feeling. Could he really tell just by looking at me? Disturbing to say the least. My sex life was not open for discussion to anyone. Not even Jack.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I thought I’d hang around, see if you needed any help. George is going to be police escorted to the gravesite in a couple of hours, and I just needed some quiet time after the night I just had.”
“Marie Petit?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, no. She didn’t close the shop last night until nine, and I had to go on call at ten. Let’s just say that last night was a night for the record books. Jenny Negley called to report an intruder, but when I got to her house she answered the door dressed like the porn star version of Cat Woman. She asked me if I was there to declaw her. Whatever that means. Scared the hell out of me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s your own fault for being so damned pretty. What’s a girl to do but try to think of inventive ways to catch the most eligible bachelor in town?”
“Well, my night didn’t stop there. After I left Jenny mewing after me, I had to head over to the Knights of Columbus hall and break up a fight between Bob Shiney and Harvey Wallace.”
I wasn’t too surprised to hear this bit of news. Bob and Harvey had been feuding for close to twenty years now, and they were always getting into scuffles. I can’t say I could really blame Bob all that much. Harvey had run off and eloped with Bob’s daughter as soon as she’d graduated high school, and him being more than twenty-five years older than her at the time. There were a few people in town who’d said the affair had been going on even before she’d graduated, but those folks never said it to Bob’s face. And it was kind of self explanatory since Amanda gave birth seven months after they’d said their vows. But since Harvey and Amanda had been married all this time, it was my personal opinion that it was time for Bob to just let it go.
“And then I got another 911 call from Stella Duggan,” Jack continued. “I had to give her a citation for reporting a false crime and tying up the emergency lines. This is the fourth time she’s called in a month. Not to mention last night seemed to be the night for stupid kids to play pranks all over town. I can’t tell you how many kids I saw with rolls of toilet paper in their arms.”
“All in a night’s work, Sheriff.”
“Yeah,” he said, running a hand over his face.
Jack looked tired. He’d been running all over the county yesterday afternoon trying to find a murderer, and then he’d had to work all night because the Sheriff’s department was understaffed due to budget cuts. He had a secretary and a dispatcher, a handful of detectives, and only slightly more than that to work patrol. And between the two divisions they had to take turns covering the D.A.R.E. program at the local schools, funeral escorts, parades or any other event that needed security. They were stretched way too thin, and the extra hours were weighing heavy on Jack.
“Have you had any sleep at all?” I asked.
“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours before shift.” He looked out the window from my office. “Miserable day for a funeral.” The snow was piled high and there were still a few wet flurries falling. “I moved back here so I wouldn’t have to do violent crimes scenes.”
Ah, now we were getting to the crux of the problem. Jack used to be on the S.W.A.T. team in D.C. But he’d resigned after he’d been the last cop left alive when a drug operation went bad. And he’d been barely alive at that. He’d taken three bullets, had a collapsed lung, a ruptured spleen and a broken femur. Not to mention the blood loss. By all accounts he should have been dead, but he was here and his friends weren’t. He couldn’t handle high pressure situations anymore, so he’d resigned and moved back to Bloody Mary. But Jack’s always kind of been my hero, and I believed he could handle more than he thought.
“You’re a different person than you were in D.C., Jack. A stronger person. A stronger cop.”
“It doesn’t feel like it, especially when someone gets murdered right under my goddamned nose and my gut tells me it’s not the most obvious suspect,” he said. The frustration and anger were apparent across his face. “And if that DNA sample comes back negative tomorrow it means I’ve got nothing, and I’m as useless here as I was there.”
“That’s bullshit, Jack. What? Are you fishing for compliments? You know you’re a good cop. If we hit a snag tomorrow with the DNA, then all we have to do is find another thread to pull.”
I could tell the no pity angle worked because Jack lost the sullen look that was on his face.
“Fine, you’re hired as temporary deputy then,” he said.
“Damn, that’s what I get for opening my big mouth and trying to help.” I never could get the upper hand on Jack. “Do I at least get to carry a gun?”
Jack looked horrified at the thought. “Hell no, but I’ve got a tin badge lying around my office somewhere.”
“I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that.”
“Let’s go to a funeral,” he said, tossing me my coat. “And for God’s sake, get that grin off your face. It’s creeping me out.”
Fiona’s funeral was everything I’d thought it would be and more. Miserable being the word that came to the forefront of my mind.
The men who’d dug the grave had looked cold and worn out when they’d come in to collect their checks. They’d said it had been like digging through ice, and in a sense, that’s exactly what they’d been doing.
There were only a smattering of people who’d braved the cold to come say farewell to Fiona. Besides me and Jack, Phyllis and her husband sat rigid and stoic under the green plastic awning that covered the family plot. Phyllis blotted her tears with a white handkerchief and kept her head held high.
George sat at the opposite end of the row, flanked by two cops and an attending physician, and he wept softly into his hands.
Dr. Givens shot me disapproving looks like I was the one who’d caused George so much emotional pain.
Dickey had come without his wife or his secretary. It wasn’t often I saw him without one or the other. He was dressed in his banker’s clothes, obviously there to represent First National. Which reminded me that we needed to ask Dickey if he would let us in the bank today to collect the contents of the box.
Wanda Baker, of the Baker Bed and Breakfast, sat towards the back, and Stanley Lipinski sat next to her, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. I always wondered if there was more going on between the two of them than Sunday brunch. They seemed awfully cozy. Wanda kept giving me knowing glances, and I had to turn away before my face flamed any hotter.
I recognized a couple of teachers from James Madison Preparatory where we’d all gone to school, and Floyd Parker from the King George Gazette was there because it had been a while since something this newsworthy had happened around here. I shot Floyd a nasty look just out of habit and ignored the smarmy kiss he blew me.
Vaughn and Eddie stood, freezing like the rest of us, but they’d come because they’d known Fiona and I had been close once upon a time. But that was the entire list of people who’d come for Fiona. It made me wonder who would come to wish me off into the afterlife when it was my time to go. Was there more than a handful who cared? There sure as hell wasn’t any family who would send me off. They were all lying four plots up and two over.
Jack put his arm around me and squeezed gently, like he’d known what was going through my head.
I worked with death on a daily basis and understood better than most how fragile our mortality was. It was funny how some people, like Jack, had gone their whole lives without losing one person who was close to them, while I’d lost everyone. It hardly seemed fair for God to take so much away and not give anything in return.
The Reverend Jonah Thomas spoke words of comfort, but I ignored the content and let the gentle flow of his voice soothe me. I’d heard the words too many times already in my thirty years.
Dirty Little Secrets (Romantic Mystery) Book 1 in the J.J. Graves Series Page 10