"Of course."
She puts her hands under her daughter's arms and lifts her toward her. The child doesn't realize she's being torn away from me, so there's this weird struggle to get her to let go of my necklace while Kelly holds the sippy cup upright. It results in her purse falling off her arm and spilling onto the floor.
With Tessa in Kelly's arms, I bend down to retrieve her spilled items.
"I'm sorry," Kelly says. "I guess Tessa's not the only one frazzled."
I stick her wallet back into her purse, along with a receipt from a shop called Tude, and stop a lipstick from rolling under the fridge. "Really, it's fine and to be expected. You guys need time to mend."
I stand up and help her sling the strap back onto her shoulder.
Her expression is a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation. "Thank you. Seriously."
"You're welcome." I smile, feeling good that I helped her, even though I found out squat.
There are more important things in life than my curiosity.
CHAPTER TEN
After leaving Wilma's, Ma drops me off at home, and I drive across town to South Shore Beach Police Station. I'm not any closer to learning if Raina's death was simply an accident like it appears or if there was more to it. Seeing Kelly, I can't let it go until I know with absolute certainty, and the one person who can tell me is my cop brother.
I park in the guest area, which is a few yards from the front door, and pull out my cell. I dial Enzo and hope he has a few minutes to gab.
He answers right away. "Hey, what's up?"
"I'm parked out front. Do you have a few?"
His background is filled with chatter, some laughter, and a ringing phone.
"Yeah, I'll be out in a sec."
We hang up, and I wait. It's not my favorite thing to do in the world. I decide a quick game of Candy Soda Pop is in order. I'm about to lose the forty-ninth level yet again when Enzo walks out of the brick building. His dark blue uniform looks stiff, recently pressed. He cares a great deal about how he looks at work. It's pride in his job.
He crosses the narrow street and jogs the rest of the way to my car. He settles into the passenger seat with a sigh. "What's going on? You okay?"
Aww, it's sweet that he cares. Not that I think he ever doesn't, but it's nice to hear.
"I'm fine. How are you? Other than Sunday dinner, we haven't hung out in a while."
"It's been busy with work." He glances out his window.
More like he's been hiding. Ever since our last ghost encounter, he's been gloomy. I try to not bring it up though. I don't want to upset him or bring up things he doesn't want to talk or think about. I change the subject.
"I'm here about Raina Stone."
"Yeah, you found a dead body. Your first one. What was that like?"
Raina may not have been the first death I've dealt with, but she's the first body I've come across on my own.
"Oh, puppies and sunshine. What do you think?"
He smirks.
"I was her biggest fan. At least there wasn't any gore." I can handle some blood but anything else, not so much. Some may find that surprising since I love horror movies. I'm more of a psychological scare-you-till-you-scream fan.
He squeezes my shoulder. "I know, sis. It's rough. Sorry you had to go through that."
He makes it sound as if it's over. I'm still reeling. I'm still looking for answers.
"Have you heard anything about Raina's death?" I ask.
"The preliminary toxicology report came back and showed no alcohol or drugs in her system."
"She probably didn't accidentally fall from a drunken stupor?"
"Correct."
"Maybe it wasn't an accident."
He shrugs. "They don't know much yet. It's too soon."
I nod and think about the possibilities. They're too varied right now to take bets. Maybe this is all for nothing, and Raina simply fell. Part of me hopes that's true. When anyone has to pass, it's best if it's quick and painless, although I guess hitting your head wouldn't be painless. But part of me, a small, shameful part, wants to figure out who killed her. Does that mean I'm hoping Raina was murdered?
Gosh, that's mean.
"What's with your face?" Enzo asks.
I relax it and shake my head. "Nothing."
Nothing I want to admit to anyway.
* * *
When I leave the police station, the sun has set, and the temps have dropped considerably. I don't know what's going on with Mother Nature lately, but our once normal coastal weather has become unpredictable.
I pull into the parking lot behind the deli and see Julian's black SUV. My stomach flips. We've talked since our argument, but we haven't had any face-to-face alone time.
As I step from my car, he does the same. He's dressed in dark jeans, a black coat, and boots. He reaches into his back seat and pulls forward a white, plastic bag, a bottle of wine, and a bouquet of flowers.
My heart may skip a beat. Or a hundred.
He walks over with a half smile and holds out the flowers. "I'm sorry for the other night. I hate arguing with you."
I smile, especially when I get a whiff of the gorgeous array of yellow, pink, and purple flowers. It looks like a spring bouquet. I can't imagine where he found them this time of year, but I'm impressed. I'm not a rose fan, and he remembered. "Me too."
He holds up the bag, which has spicy garlic and onion aromas permeating through. "I brought dinner. I hope you're hungry."
"Always. Come on."
We head upstairs. While I kick off my boots and use the bathroom, he goes about serving our meal. When I get back to the main room, there are two plates of shrimp pad Thai and two glasses of wine on the coffee table.
I sit beside him on the couch.
He lifts both of our glasses and hands me mine. "To having a great night with a beautiful woman, delicious food, and no talk of work."
He clinks his glass against mine and takes a sip.
I hesitate for a moment. He may not want to talk about his job, but that doesn't mean I don't. Just the same, I sip my wine and nonverbally agree. The food looks delish, and I'd like to eat it without indigestion.
We grab our plates, settle back into the sofa cushions, and chow down. I cross my legs under me. I've become quite adept at eating on the couch. If Ma saw me though, she'd shriek. There's a no food outside of the kitchen and dining room rule in their house. I can't help it if my kitchen is in my living room. Plus the stools at the breakfast bar aren't comfortable when seated for more than a few minutes. I should invest in some with cushions.
"I might have a new job," I say when I come up for air.
His eyebrows rise.
Then I remember his rule. "Oh, no talk about work."
"No talk about my work. We can discuss yours. What kind of job?"
I grit my teeth and push down any annoyance that's surfacing. "We can talk about my job prospect, but we can't talk about yours? How fair is that?"
He lowers his fork. "Well, unless you've signed a confidentiality clause and can be sued…"
I roll my eyes. "Fine. I see your point. I got a call from the event planner who did Wilma's bridal shower last week. I helped her by icing some cupcakes because her assistant and the caterers upped and quit."
"You didn't tell me this."
I shrug. "It wasn't a big deal. Anyway, she called and asked if I wanted to help her out again on Friday. It's an engagement party, and if I do well, she may offer me a permanent position."
"That's great."
I smile kinda cheesily. Yeah, it is, and I'm still excited. The nerves haven't settled in yet. They'll arrive Friday afternoon.
"Who's Wilma? You never mentioned that either."
"Wilma Sheridan? She's a friend of Ma's. They were close years ago and drifted apart. I guess Wilma has been coming into the deli recently, and they reconnected. She's marrying a man named Fred." I chuckle, but Julian's frowning.
"Sheridan. Why does that sound familiar?" he
asks.
My stomach tightens. I wondered when we'd get to Michael. When Julian and I lived in Connecticut, I told him about my entire past. My relationship with Craig, who had been killed in a car accident, my crush on Michael and how my best friend betrayed me by kissing Michael. All of it.
"Wilma is Michael's mother. A guy I went to high school with." I hope I sound casual, and that's when I realize that if I'm hoping to sound a certain way, I obviously wasn't feeling that way. Why am I nervous about this? I've done nothing wrong.
"Michael as in kindergarten husband?"
I chuckle without meaning to. "You remember that?"
"Yes. Why is that funny?"
"It's a bizarre thing to recall. Yes, that Michael."
"He doesn't live in town, right?"
"Right. He's visiting his mother, and now with Raina's death…"
Julian sets his plate on the coffee table. Its harsh clatter shuts me up. "He was at the bridal shower? And he's staying around because of the funeral."
"Yes. Is that a problem?" As nervous as I was about hanging with Michael due to Julian, his tone now makes me see how ridiculous it was to feel that way. Michael and I are only friends. That's not going to change. And most of our encounters were about Raina. That makes me a bad friend, not a bad girlfriend.
"No, not at all." He lifts his glass and drinks his wine. "Wondering why you didn't mention it though."
"I didn't think it was a big deal." Okay, that's a lie. I hoped it wouldn't be, but it obviously was for me, otherwise I wouldn't have felt guilty, and I would've mentioned it to Julian before now. But in my defense, it's not like Julian and I have been on the same page lately.
"Sorry. There's been a lot going on this week. But for full disclosure, I've met with Michael three times since the shower. Once, the night after, we went for drinks at Lindy's. I expected that to be the only time we'd see one another, but then I found Raina's body."
Julian's mouth becomes thinner as he tightens his lips against one another.
A wave of anger presses over me. I've felt guilt about spending time with my friend, and he's mad that I have. I guess I suspected he'd feel that way, but now that we're confronting it, I'm annoyed. I know he hasn't asked me to tell him my whereabouts twenty-four-seven, but I can, and he can't, and that is what's raising my blood pressure.
"Then I saw him at his mother's house. I went to pump him for intel on Raina, and I learned about her manager. A Van Ford, who's a complete idgit. I had to give him my expensive boots to find out…absolutely nothing. He goes on and on about how Raina was Jekyll and Hyde."
Julian's brows are practically blinding him they're so low. "You met with him?"
"And then I saw Michael today, and we met for lunch. I got more info on Raina, but he's onto why I've been meeting with him. I can't go to him for that reason anymore. But we're friends, so I'm sure we'll see one another again before he goes home. Izzie wants to catch up with him too." I set my plate beside his and rise. I walk to the windows facing Park Place and stare down at the moving cars.
"Where is this Van Ford?" Julian asks.
I turn around. That's all he heard? "Why?"
"I want to have a word with him."
He wants to get my boots back or remind the scum to play nice with women? "No."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't need you fighting my battles, Julian. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."
He stands up. "I never said you can't. I'm just going to have a friendly chat…"
"No. I mean it. This has nothing to do with you. I didn't tell you all of this to rescue me."
"Then why did you tell me?"
"You asked, and I wanted to show you how easy it is to share."
Fury crawls into his face. It makes me hold my breath. I don't think I've ever seen him look so irked. "How many times do I have to tell you that I can't share my work? Why can't you understand that?"
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I turn back to the windows. I don't want him to see me vulnerable. He's right. It's none of my business, and I keep trying to make it mine. I don't know why I don't drop it. Actually, I do.
Somewhere deep inside, I know Julian's somehow involved with this Raina fiasco. I hope I'm wrong, but my gut tells me otherwise. My gut also tells me that Raina's death isn't from a simple fall. There's more to everything here, but the more I dig, the more I uncover nothing, and the more I feel like a fool. What if I'm wrong? What if I'm chipping away at my relationship with Julian for nothing?
"I should go," he says.
I don't respond. I don't move.
After what feels like an eternity, I hear my door click shut. Another minute later I watch his SVU drive around the corner and down Park Place through my fallen tears.
* * *
Needless to say, I get little sleep that night. I toss and turn for a couple of hours and decide to get up and watch TV. I must doze off around four am because I wake up five hours later to a face of couch cushions. Luckily Wednesday is my day off now. It changes with the seasons or when Izzie has to change her day off. She has more responsibilities than I do. I don't mind being flexible.
It takes me a couple of hours to get moving. I don't know my next step in this Raina situation, other than getting closer to Kelly. That won't be easy, considering what Kelly's going through. Plus, I don't want to keep grilling her. That makes me feel horrible. I'll need to find answers another way.
I'm still aware that this adds up to a big pile of nothing, but I'm now more determined than ever to try. It's about proving to Julian that I can take care of myself. No, it's about proving to myself that I can trust my instincts.
If I can't find information the old-fashioned way, maybe I can the ghost way.
I drive to Ma's to find Aunt Stella. She can snoop around for me while I wait outside, like before. When I get there though, Aunt Angela is in the living room on the sofa watching TV.
"Hi." I lean down and kiss her cheek. "Are you alone?"
The house is quiet.
She nods and doesn't take her eyes off the set. "Yes. Your mother went to the store."
I glance around for Aunt Stella, but before I get a chance to hunt her down, Aunt Angela pats the cushion beside her. "Join me for a moment. Ooh, she's going to tell him that he's not their son's father."
I stare at the screen and realize she's watching a soap opera. I sit down out of respect. A few minutes in front of the TV can't hurt.
"Raina Stone used to be on this show," Aunt Angela says.
"Seriously?"
Aunt Angela smiles. "Yes. It was a tiny part years ago. I believe it was in the beginning of her career."
How do I not know this?
A light breeze tickles my neck and ear.
"Boo!"
I flinch, yelp, and look behind me to see Aunt Stella. She's holding her stomach and laughing so hard there's no sound coming from her open mouth.
"Are you okay, dear?" Aunt Angela asks.
No, your crazy sister almost put me in cardiac arrest.
"Yes, sorry. I thought I saw something."
Aunt Angela pats my hand. "You poor thing. Finding Raina Stone must have you jumping at every shadow."
Only your sister's.
I stand and head to the kitchen. "I'm gonna get a glass of water. Do you need anything, Aunt Angela?"
"No thanks, dear."
I'm grateful that Aunt Stella follows me. Her silent laughter has mellowed down to giggling.
I turn on the water and pretend I'm filling up a glass. To Aunt Stella, I say, "I need your help. Snooping."
"Wheee! Road Trip! I call shotgun."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I drive to Wilma's, and the house is empty. Not only are there no cars in the driveway, but no one is home, and it appears that the place is void of toddler belongings. According to Aunt Stella, there are no sippy cups, training pants, clothes, toys, nothing. Where are they? Did they go home already?
I then go to Kelly's house, and su
re enough, there's a navy Buick parked in the driveway. I've no idea who it belongs to, but someone is home.
"Go check it out," I say to Aunt Stella who appears to be losing interest since she's staring at her fingernails.
She disappears without a word, and I watch the rain beat against the windshield. It wasn't this heavy when I left Ma's. If it had been, I might have gone straight home. I don't mind being out in the rain, although it's not my fave. I love sitting under a warm blanket and sipping coffee while a storm rages on. The smell and sound of rain makes me smile.
Aunt Stella returns almost immediately. "An older woman and a toddler are there. No one else."
A babysitter?
This isn't going as planned.
"What did you expect me to see? The kid and mom discussing the dead aunt? Or a giant neon clue that says what happened?"
She's right. I'm not sure what I expected, but it's not sitting in the car while it rains.
"Fine. Let's go." I start my engine, put the car into drive, and turn on my wipers.
I pull out onto the road. I'm about to pass Kelly's house when a car on the other side starts turning into her driveway.
I step on my brakes and realize it's Kelly.
She's staring at me.
I feel like an idiot. Did I almost hit her?
She not only waves but opens her window to talk to me.
I turn my wheel sharply to the right to scoot closer to her tail end and lower my window. "Hi."
"Were you looking for me?"
If I admit to that, it's just plain weird. I have no reason to be here. What the heck am I supposed to say? I'm stalking your house?
Aunt Stella cackles. Her delight in my failures is charming.
"I was lost in thought, and before I knew it, I was here," I say, ready to accept my Stalker Award.
Aunt Stella laughs so hard. I flinch but try to keep my soft smile intact.
"Well, come on in," Kelly says than shuts her window and pulls up into her driveway.
"Well look at that. You're being sketchy and still got an invite," Aunt Stella says.
I smile and back up into my parking space. I grab my purse and run up to Kelly's door, arriving as she unlocks it. We stand in the foyer flicking off water like a couple of dogs.
Cupcakes, Butterflies & Dead Guys (Gianna Mancini Mysteries Book 3) Page 9