Once Upon A Murder
Page 19
Michael looked back at the face so much like his own and was once again struck by the knowledge that was where their similarities stopped. Michael wore button-ups off the sales rack. His father sported silk ties and name-brand designers that cost more than six months of his rent. Michael’s watch was a graduation present that his mother scrimped and saved for, while his father’s diamond-encrusted timepiece most likely was another Geppetto original.
Bryan Charming may have been the second richest man in Castle Rock, but this man, Glenmore Grimm, descendent of the founders of Fairy Tails and Castle Rock itself, was the first.
“Hello, Dad,” Michael replied. He got to his feet and, stiff as a board, accepted his father’s hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Does a man need a reason to visit his only children?” he replied smoothly. “I heard you two solved the case and now that I’m back in town, I thought we’d celebrate. How about I take you both out to dinner tonight?”
“Daddy, that would be—”
“Can’t,” Michael interrupted. “We already have plans tonight. Mom is cooking us a celebratory dinner.”
“I see, well, I’m sure your mother won’t mind if I join.”
Monica was already pulling out her phone. “I’ll call and tell her to make extra.”
“No.” Michael stepped around his father and plucked the phone from Monica’s hands. She frowned at him, but he ignored it. “Sorry, but it’s friends and family only tonight. Maybe some other time.”
Michael watched the smile melt off his father’s face, but he didn’t respond to it or the fierce pinch Monica dealt him.
“Michael, will you stop?” she said. “Dad, of course you can come tonight. I want you there.”
Glenmore cleared his throat and straightened. “But it would seem not everyone does. It’s okay, baby girl. We can have dinner another time.” He approached them and dropped a kiss on Monica’s forehead. “Goodbye, princess.” For Michael, he spared a sad look. “Goodbye, son.”
The door closed behind him, cutting off his soft footfalls.
Monica spun on him. “You can be such a jerk sometimes, Michael. How are things supposed to get any better between you and Dad if you won’t even give him a chance?”
“Things don’t need to get better between us,” he replied, his jaw set. “Things are fine just how they are.”
“Idiot!” She smacked him upside the head and stormed off, slamming the bathroom door hard enough to pop it off the hinges.
Wincing, Michael rubbed the spot where she struck him. That time was much harder than her usual pops.
The door opened behind Michael again and he sighed, dropping his hand. “Please just go. I can’t do this right now.”
“But you told me to come?”
“Ella?”
“Hey, Michael.”
He turned to find her smiling at him. “Wow.” He blinked, taking her in. “You look different.”
She self-consciously tugged at the white, off-the-shoulder dress. Her thick brown hair fell in soft ringlets to her shoulders, framing her lovely face. “Thanks. Adalynn bought this for me and did the hair and makeup. She said I should always look my best when I go out. I had no idea she was so image conscious.”
He chuckled. “Of course not. She used to live in her robe and slippers, but I hope those days are over?” Michael didn’t spell it out, but Ella picked up on his double meaning anyway.
“Yes. Adalynn has checked herself into an outpatient rehab facility. I think she feels guilty about all the things that went on while she was out of it. Maybe if she had been there for her daughters, Delilah would have come to her right away and Abby wouldn’t have felt the need to take things into her own hands.”
“How are Abigail and Delilah? I know it’s only been a few days but...”
Her lips quirked up. “They’re okay. Adalynn got her the best lawyer she could afford, and Delilah starts going to counseling next week. It will take time, but we’re getting there.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
She nodded. “So is that what you wanted to talk with me about?”
Michael shook his head. “Let’s sit down.” He led her into the breakroom and they both took a seat. “How are you doing, Ella? Did things go well last night?”
Michael was referring to Ella and Monica’s trip to see Faralene Gudmor. Michael had been left behind while the two of them went and explained Ella’s part in losing her shoes.
“Sort of. She said she was sorry for what happened to me and didn’t think there should be any further punishment, but all the same, she didn’t want me working for her anymore.”
Michael nodded. “So what are you going to do now?”
She sighed. “Look for another cleaning job. They are always looking for cleaners in Fairy Tails and the jobs pay well.”
“Well, if you’re looking for another option.” A grin spread across his face. “I thought you might consider working here at Grimm Investigations.”
Her eyes went wide. “Here? With you and Monica?”
“Yep. What do you say?”
“But why me?”
“We’ve been careful to keep the exact details out of the press, but all the same, news has spread about us solving the Charming murder. The phone’s been ringing off the hook for the last few days and we’ve taken on about a dozen new clients. We need help answering the phones, managing the files, and maybe even some help on a few cases if you’re up to it.”
Ella’s face brightened with every word. “Are you serious?”
“We can’t pay as much as they probably do in Fairy Tails, but we’ll work with your school schedule and–oomph!”
For the second time that day, Michael found himself in a smothering hug.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Ella gave him another squeeze. “I would love to work with you guys.”
Michael gently patted her head. “We’d love to work with you too.”
“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for all you’ve done.” Ella sniffed. “You fought to have me cleared and did your best to help Abby even after what she did. You’ve been a friend to me, believed me when others wouldn’t, and now you’re giving me a job.” She laughed. “It’s like you’re my fairy godmother. Watching my back and stepping in to make things alright again.”
“Thank you, Ella.” Michael hugged her back as tightly. “... but never call me that again.”
They laughed, sharing in the light moment as Monica finally emerged from the bathroom.
She peeked into the breakroom. “I guess this means she said yes?”
She still looked slightly miffed, but her angry expression eased as Ella jumped up and hugged her next.
“I did. I’m so excited.”
Monica leaned back and smiled down at her. “Good. Then as the newest member of the Grimm team, I insist you come over for dinner tonight. We’re celebrating solving our first murder case. You in?”
“I’ll be there.”
MICHAEL SCOWLED AS everyone laughed heartily around him. “It’s not funny. I still have the scratches on my arm.”
Samira giggled. “I left the room for a few minutes and you get beaten up by a teenage girl. That is very funny.”
Samira, Monica, and even his mother laughed uproariously.
“So this is my celebration dinner?” he griped. “Everyone laughing at my expense?”
“Yep,” Monica teased. “Did you expect any different?”
Michael grumbled under his breath. He looked over at Ella who was trying to hide her smile behind a napkin. “Ella, you too?”
After that she couldn’t hold it in any longer. The giggles burst out of her and soon Michael joined in.
“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO walk me to my car, Mikey,” Samira said as they strolled down the driveway. Dinner was over, the dishes had been cleared away, and Monica was dropping Ella off at her home.
“Yes, I did,” he said mildly. “Mom practically ordered me too.”
Sami
ra laughed. “I’ve always liked your mother.”
They stopped just before her car door. Samira turned to face him. “If I hadn’t said it already, good job, Michael. You were brilliant in how you solved the case.”
“Thank you.” He rested his back against the car and looked up. “Is it always like this?” he blurted. “After you put someone away? Do you always feel...” He trailed off, not being able to put it into words.
Sighing, she took up her position next to Michael. “Murder is like a baseball striking a windshield. It’s not just the point of impact, but it’s all the cracks and splinters radiating around it. It wasn’t just about Preston and his death, but also about the people around him. The effect he had on them and the effect they had on him. It just resulted in one big, broken mess.”
“Do you think anyone will ever truly recover?” he asked softly. “One person has lost their only child, another will raise a child that will never know their father, another will spend most—if not all—of their life in prison and why? What was the baseball here? Was Preston just a bad seed, destined to turn out the way he did? Or did his father really turn a sweet, happy baby into a monster?”
“Cops, detectives, judges, and investigators have all been asking themselves these types of questions since the beginning of time. Is the work we make our living on really inevitable? Do awful things like this have to happen? Does anyone get to live a fairy-tale life?”
“Do they?” he asked, his heart filled with an anguish that was apparently shared.
“I don’t know, Mikey. I really don’t.”
Michael felt a hand on his chin. He let Samira pull his head down until they were looking deep into each other’s eyes.
“What I do know,” she whispered, “is that we will recover from this. Preston Charming doesn’t matter now. We’ve done our duty and caught his killer. Now, we focus on those left behind and they are certainly stronger than anything he could have done. As a matter of fact, I got off the phone with Penelope Charming just before I got here. She’s kicked her husband out of the house and filed for divorce. She has also torn up the nondisclosure agreement and told Peyton she and the baby are welcome to move in. She wants to care for the baby free of charge, while Peyton goes to school and gets her degree.”
Michael smiled in her hold. “That is wonderful news. I’m happy for them both.”
“So, you see.” She gently stroked his cheek with her thumb. “We’re all going to be okay. Peyton is going to raise a happy baby. Delilah will survive her ordeal with her mother and Ella by her side, and Grimm Investigations will keep its door open for another day. Ready to solve another case with this”—she pointed at his head—“and this.”
Her hand settled over his chest, resting lightly on his pounding heart.
Samira’s eyes glittered in the moonlight. They looked like two dark swimming pools, drawing him in and drowning him. He brought his head down just as she rose up.
“You know,” he said, his lips hovering just above hers. “Just because I won the bet doesn’t mean we can’t have that dinner.”
Samira’s eyes fluttered open. She looked up at him questioningly.
“Dinner. Just the two of us. We can sit down and talk, really talk, about what we want going forward.” He grinned. “Grimm Investigations is going to be taking on a lot more cases now and we’ll be running into each other a lot more. I want us to be friends.”
Samira released his chin and settled back on her heels. She gave him a soft smile. “We’ll always be friends, Mikey, but I’m more than willing to let you buy me dinner. I’ll text you,” she said as she took out her keys and inserted them into the lock. “We’ll set something up.”
Michael stepped back and watched her peel away.
It was true. We all didn’t get a fairy-tale life, not even the firstborn son of the heir to Castle Rock, but even though Michael didn’t have money, or a mansion on the hill, or the envy of the masses. He had his family, good friends, and Grimm Investigations, and its doors would be open for a long time to come. Ready for anything Castle Rock and Fairy Tails could throw at him.
The End
If you liked Once Upon A Murder, please leave a review. Reviews help me decide whether to commit more time to these characters and this series because I’m getting feedback from you, the readers. If I know you like this series, then I’ll devote my time to giving you more Michael and Monica! But I can only do that if you let me know. I love hearing from you. Thank you.
Read on to learn more about the second book in the Fairy Tale Mystery Series, Beauty In Death, and more books by the author.
BEAUTY CADAL WASN’T kind or funny or generous, but what she lacked in personality, she more than made up for in well... beauty.
During her twenty-first birthday party, the lovely Beauty takes a tumble down the stairs and falls into a coma. Foul play is suspected, but what could be a better alibi than dancing in plain view of a party full of people?
Michael and Monica are tasked with finding this crafty suspect and figuring out how they managed to be in two places at once. Somewhere among a Spindle, ditzy servants, and old grudges is the key to who put Beauty into a long sleep.
Beauty in Death
A Sneak Peek
Chapter One
Beauty looked around the ballroom. The string lights sparkling overhead, the DJ teasing out a steady flow of bumping beats, the people dressed in magnificent costumes and elaborate masks, all enjoying the heady thrill that came with a masquerade. From her platform, she watched them dance, laugh, flirt, and drink, and she rolled her eyes so hard she almost hurt herself.
She should have known better than to let her parents handle organizing her twenty-first birthday party. They messed everything up. The food was all wrong. Sliders and cheese sticks, seriously? Was this a backyard townie barbeque? They got a DJ instead of a band, and don’t even get her started on the throne.
She specifically told her father that she wanted an original wood-carved throne placed on top of the makeshift stage, so that the whole room could gaze upon her. She told him all that, but did she really need to spell out that it should be upholstered. The blasted seat was hard as, well, wood.
Beauty shifted, trying to get comfortable, and groaned loud enough for anyone in her vicinity to hear.
Her mother climbed the steps to the platform. “Beauty, darling, is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not okay.” She ripped off her mask and glared at her. “Mom, this stupid throne is the worst. You could at least get me a pillow to sit on!”
Her mother’s smile never wavered. “Of course, love. I’ll be right back.”
She took off and Beauty turned her glare on the rest of the room. This was the worst birthday party in the history of birthday parties. This beat the time her parents refused to get the famous band, Witches’ Brew, to perform at her sixteenth. They banged on about the band having prior tour commitments and not able to break contract, but she knew they were just making excuses.
Beauty felt a buzzing from somewhere in her voluminous skirt. She stuck her hand in her pocket, pulled out her phone, and read the text.
She glanced around again. I’ll only be gone for a little while. This party sucks anyway.
Beauty got to her feet and stepped off the platform. She weaved through the crowd collecting compliments as she went.
“Beauty, you look gorgeous.”
“Obviously.”
“This party is awesome.”
“Whatever.”
Beauty stopped in front of the guards standing at the entrance to the ballroom and snapped, “Move!”
They stepped aside immediately. “Yes, ma’am.”
Beauty picked up the pace when she got into the hallway and was finally alone. Her heels click-clacked on the polished stone and the soft whispers of her gown seemed to echo through the halls.
She climbed the grand staircase. When she reached the very top, she paused, settling in to wait.
And wait. And wait
some more.
She waited a bit longer before giving up.
“Ugh, forget this.” Beauty sighed and turned to descend the stairs. She heard footsteps sound behind her. “Finally—”
She barely turned before feeling two hands placed against her back. Before she could fully register what was happening, she felt the force of a hard, unforgiving shove. Beauty pitched forward, screaming as she tumbled down the stairs, her body hitting every step on the way down.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
D.E. Dennis had spent most of her life within the pages of a book and now she is thrilled to have the opportunity to invite people into the worlds she creates.
When she is not writing, she is traveling, eating too much cheesecake, and traveling some more. Join her newsletter to keep up with the crazy life of this writer.
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OTHER WORKS BY D.E. DENNIS
Madame Moon Series
Words of Wisdom
Love Heals
Laughter is the Best Medicine
Fairy Tale Mystery Series
Once Upon A Murder
Beauty in Death
A Trail of Breadcrumbs
Copyright © 2018 by D.E. Dennis
Cover Illustration by Mariah Sinclair at https://www.mariahsinclair.com/
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.