"Six?" I polished off the granola bar.
"Deanna."
I choked. Tam whumped my back.
"I spoke with her today," she said once I could breathe again.
I wiped down the already clean countertop. "Oh?"
"Listen. She was convinced you were letting her go. She made up that interview at The Grass Is Always Greener."
"So she says."
"I called over there and checked it out."
"Sometimes it's scary how thorough you are."
"Nina . . . "
"Why would she make it up?"
"She's young, foolish. And would like a second chance."
"I don't know, Tam."
"I saw someone on TV recently who said she believes in second chances."
Pulling in a deep breath, I said, "Okay. I'll talk to her."
Tam beamed. "I'll call her first thing."
"Don't have her come in first thing, though. I have to deal with the whole missing diamond ring situation first."
"Diamond ring?" Tam asked. "From Lowther House?"
Nodding, I draped the dish towel over the bar of the oven.
Tam whistled low. "The new guy?"
I shrugged. "Don't know."
"The police interview him yet?"
"The police weren't called."
Her eyebrows dipped, her shoulders straightened. "What? Why not?"
"I'm not sure. I meet with Pippi at eight. Maybe she'll have some answers for me."
And hopefully not leave me with more questions.
Eighteen
"This just came for you." Brickhouse handed me a FedEx package.
"Thanks," I said.
She shifted on her feet. "How's Kit?"
"I don't know."
"I'm going to kill that Daisy with my bare hands."
"I'll help."
Smiling, she clucked. I don't know how she did both at the same time, but she managed.
"Do you think he knows how much we care?"
I lifted an eyebrow. "We? Are you going soft on me, Mrs. Krauss?"
"Never."
"That's what I thought. But yes, I think he knows. I hope he knows." I peered up at her. "Maybe we should tell him?"
"He probably wouldn't take too well to that."
"You're right. His bald head would get all red."
"He'd stammer."
"Glare."
"Bolt," we said at the same time.
"We'll keep it between us," I said.
"Deal."
The chimes on the front door rang out. "Pip's here," Brickhouse whispered over her shoulder.
"Give me a few minutes."
She closed the door on the way out.
I ripped open the FedEx package. Inside was a document from the legal department at Hitched or Ditched, releasing me from my contract.
The episodes featuring me and Bobby, Mario and Perry, would never again see the light of day. It was as if the show was trying to erase this week from its memory.
Can't say I blamed them.
Glancing down, I looked at my schedule for the day, and wondered about my appointment with Sherry. I crossed it off. There was no way she was going to keep it, if she even remembered she had one after all that had happened.
I set my new handbag on my desk. My mother had given it to me this morning before I left for work. My backpack had disappeared sometime during the night.
It was a nice bag, Coach, but it didn't feel right.
I flipped the flap, pulled out my cell phone, checked the readout.
Bobby hadn't called since the last time I'd checked it.
I jumped in surprise as it suddenly rang in my hand. I ground my teeth at the strains of "Like a Virgin." Today while I was at the mall with Perry, I would find someone to change that tune.
I recognized Kevin's cell number and answered, trying to sound peppier than I felt. "Good morning."
"What's wrong?"
"Why does something have to be wrong?" I was worried sick about Bobby, but Kevin didn't need to know that.
"You're never chipper in the morning."
"Maybe I'm just happy to hear from you."
He laughed. "Now I know something's wrong."
Really, what wasn't? My life was a mess. "I'm okay."
"Does this have anything to do with that reality show?"
Most, but not all. "Nope."
"Then I don't suppose you want to know what I found out about the case?"
The old me would have jumped at the chance to know. The new me said, "Nope."
"Now I know something is terribly wrong. Is it about Booby?" He laughed.
I rolled my eyes at his immaturity, though I supposed I was just as bad, never calling his girlfriend Ginger by the right name. "Bobby's fine."
"But you still don't want to know? I called in a favor, got the inside scoop . . . "
I felt myself caving. "Oh, all right."
"That's the Nina I know and loved."
I noticed the past tense. "Well?"
"Feisty this morning," he said.
I did feel on edge. A lot had happened over the last few days. I was stressed. "Kevin, I've got a client waiting."
"Fine. As I said, I called in a favor—"
"Yeah, yeah."
"You're one of a kind, Nina. You know that?"
"Are you buttering me up?" I had the sneaking suspicion he didn't just call to share news.
"Me? Never!"
Now I knew he was.
"As I was saying, I called in a favor. The M.E. is awaiting some tox screens and such, but the case is all but closed. Thad Cochran killed Genevieve."
"Are they sure? There's an awful lot of behind-the-scenes stuff going on there."
"So I've heard on the news, but the evidence points in that direction. I guess they interviewed Thad, and he confessed to having been with Genevieve in the hot tub the day she died. They'd been doing this near-asphyxiation sex game."
"Did he confess he'd killed her?"
"Actually, no. Said she was fine when he left her in the hot tub, but there had been an arrest warrant issued for Thad yesterday. That's why the detectives were at the studio last night—waiting to take him in."
I guess he did have good sources. "So, the case is closed."
"Unofficially."
It did make sense. I supposed. Except the part about Thad killing himself. He wasn't the type, and if it had really been a sex game gone wrong, then was it truly murder?
"Stop," Kevin said.
"Stop what?"
"Thinking about the case. Let the police handle it, stay out of it. No snooping."
"Me, snoop?"
"Nina . . . "
"Kevin . . . " I was just giving him a hard time. Truth be told, I was beyond glad to have the case closed. I never wanted anything to do with Hitched or Ditched again.
"So, is that all?" I asked.
"All?"
"You just called to tell me about the case?"
"Well, now that you bring it up, there is something else."
Hah! I'd known it. "What?"
"I need to go no contact."
My stomach dropped. "Why?"
"I can't talk about it."
"I'm not understanding, Kevin. You're a homicide detective. Since when do you go undercover at all?"
There was a long silence before he said, "Since I started doing some work for Ian."
Ian the DEA agent? Oh good God.
"Nina?"
"I'm here." A thousand questions popped into my head.
"I can't answer any questions."
"I wish you'd stop doing that!"
"What?"
"Reading my mind. I hate it."
"I know."
I groaned.
"I'll be okay."
"I'm not worried about you."
He laughed. "Liar."
"I'm not," I lied. "It's Riley." Which was actually true.
"I'll be okay, Nina."
"If you're going no contact, then you'
re in danger, right?"
He didn't say anything.
"Shit." My hand shook. How come hearing his voice, worrying about him, still happened after all this time?
"Since when do you swear?"
"I've just taken up the habit. Does Tam know you're working with Ian?"
"No."
"Does Allspice?" I was referring to Detective Ginger Barlow. Kevin's partner both in and out of the bedroom.
I could hear his smile. "Running out of spices?"
"Maybe. Does she?"
"No. No one but the DEA, my immediate supervisor, and you now."
"Why'd you have to go and tell me? This is just what I need, one more stress in my life."
"Because of Riley, Nina."
Right. Riley. Who'd be wondering where his dad was.
"What do I tell him?" I asked.
"You don't have to tell him anything. I'll call when he gets out of school and let him know I have to go away for a while."
I drew in a deep breath. Outside, I caught sight of snowflakes starting to fall.
October was a crazy month here in Cincinnati. Eighty degrees one day, snow the next.
My intercom buzzed. "Ms. Lowther here to see you," Brickhouse said.
I held my cell to my chest. "Give me just a minute more, please." I waited a beat and said to Kevin, "I've got to go."
"Don't worry about me."
A lump had lodged in my throat. "I won't," I lied.
"Yeah, and I won't worry about you snooping into the Hitched or Ditched case."
"Actually, you won't have to."
He snorted. "I'll call if I can. 'Bye, Nina," he said, then hung up.
I closed my phone, dropped it into my backpack. It immediately rang again. Ana's cell number lit up the screen. I pressed the silence button, dropped it again. I wasn't in the mood to talk to her right now.
Automatically, my hand reached for my bottom drawer, to my chocolate stash. Just as I pulled it open, I remembered it was empty.
Only . . . it wasn't.
Confused, I pulled the box of Almond Joys from the drawer. A note was taped to the top of the box.
Since you're fresh out of cookies, I thought you might
be getting hungry.
—Bobby
My eyes and nose stung with held in tears.
I took a minute to compose myself, then buzzed Brick- house. "Please send Pippi in."
"Right away," she answered.
"Oh, and Mrs. Krauss?"
"Yes?"
"Did Bobby happen to stop by yesterday?"
She clucked. "Oh, did I forget to tell you?"
"Must have slipped your mind."
"Must have."
A minute later Pippi was settled across from me, worry in her eyes, a frown on her lips. "I don't know what to say."
"We don't know for certain any of my people were involved."
"Fair enough. However, there's never been a single incidence of theft at Lowther House in its existence. The day you and your workers come in, a valuable ring goes missing?"
It did seem a little coincidental, and everyone knew how I felt about that.
"When was the last time the ring was seen?"
She fidgeted. "No one is absolutely sure. Definitely a hundred percent Tuesday. Saw it myself when Minnie was watching the poker game."
I'd seen it then too.
"Perhaps she simply misplaced it?"
"We've looked everywhere."
"Pippi, I think we should call the police."
"No! I mean, that's not necessary. We should be able to work this out between ourselves."
"May I ask why not?"
"I don't want to drag Lowther House's reputation through the mud, Nina. People pay me a lot of money for their privacy. I feel responsible for bringing your company in, and feel I must try to resolve this issue myself before alerting the authorities."
My eyebrows inched upward. That answer sounded too pat, too practiced to be completely true. "I cannot go around accusing my employees without proof."
"Have you spoken to the young man who brought Minnie back to her room yesterday?"
"He was in her room?"
"Yes. She has a pass card for the alarm system, so she doesn't have to remember the code for the east wing."
"No, I haven't had a chance to speak with him yet."
"I've heard your employees—"
"I vouch for all my employees and their character." Even Jeff Dannon, though I didn't know why. I'd had very few employees revert to their illegal ways after I took them on.
She rose. "Please speak with him and get back to me. I'll be waiting for your call."
I walked her out, watched her settle into her Lexus and drive away.
"Mrs. Krauss, could you please call together an emergency employee meeting?" I didn't want to ruin everyone's day off, so I said, "Tomorrow, nine A.M. sharp."
Brickhouse clucked. "Who's she accusing of what?"
I tipped my head. "Was that sentence grammatically correct?"
"Don't start with me, Nina Ceceri."
"Jeff. Missing diamond."
"I don't believe it."
"It's not for us to decide. Just call the meeting."
I poured myself a cup of coffee, dumped in some creamer, some sugar, and carried it back to my office. Checking my phone, I saw Ana had called three times, my mother once. Nothing from Bobby.
He'd be taking off just about now . . .
I wasn't in the mood to talk to Ana or my mother, so I busied myself with invoices for the next hour. The office was quiet. Everyone except Brickhouse had the day off. The chimes on the front door jangled loudly.
"Well, well," Brickhouse said.
Curious, I went to the doorway. My muscles were slowly forgiving me. Deanna stood there, holding two nine-bythirteen-inch trays.
"German chocolate cupcakes," she said, holding them out.
"Bees and honey," I mumbled, hearing my mother's voice.
"There's one for every hour I've been gone. I know they're your favorite." She held them out with such a look of sincerity that I couldn't help forgive her on the spot.
"Come on," I said, holding out my arms. "Let's get this over with."
She stepped into my hug, tears in her eyes.
Brickhouse clucked and mumbled something about me being a softie.
I guess there were just some things I couldn't change about myself. "Let's just forget the last couple of days and move forward."
Deanna nodded. It was the first time I'd seen her speechless.
I led her into my office, took the pans of German chocolate cupcakes, removed the foil off the top pan, plucked out a cupcake and bit into it.
Duke would have had a fit if he could see me, but since my butt was still sore from the treadmill incident, I figured I'd earned the calories.
Deanna sat across from me, still a jumble of nerves. Her leg bounced, her thumbs rotated around each other, her left eye twitched.
"With the current setup of TBS, there's not a need for more than one designer," I started out.
"Not this again," Deanna mumbled.
I smiled. "That's why I'm going to start a new division of Taken by Surprise."
Her thumbs stilled. Her knee still bounced. "New division?"
"Weekend Warrior, and you, Deanna, will be in complete charge of it."
Her eyes widened. "What is it?"
"There aren't many people who can afford TBS's services. I realize that, and I feel bad they're not more available to everyone. So, I got to thinking, what's the most expensive part of our ser vices?"
"The labor," Deanna said.
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