The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!
Page 27
“Sierra . . .”
I raised a hand to stop him before he continued with that thought. “But I will before we leave.”
At least I still wouldn’t be at the top of my parents’ bad list. As long as my brother didn’t show up; he was their biggest disappointment at the moment. My plan, as of right now, was to announce my news right before I left. I’d drop the bomb and walk away unharmed for the most part.
When we walked into the kitchen—we were the last ones to arrive back at the house—Aunt Yori stood in the middle of the kitchen.
“I have an announcement!” she yelled.
Everyone gathered around her. She held something in her hands, but I couldn’t make out exactly what it was because she fluttered her arms around.
“I’d like to tell everyone something very important,” she continued.
We all quieted.
She raised her hand higher, her timing and captive hold of the audience around her Hollywood worthy. “I’d like to announce that . . . I’m pregnant!”
“Yori!” my mother scolded. “Stop being so foolish.”
A flurry of whispers, giggles, and gasps went around the room like the crowd doing the wave at a baseball game.
“You heard the priest talk about it today. Abraham and Sarah.” Aunt Yori waved the item in her hands. “You can have a baby at my age. I knew it!”
That’s when I realized what it was.
A pregnancy test.
She must have found the box I’d accidentally brought in this morning. I covered my gaping mouth with my hand.
“Put that down, Yori. Speaking of which, maybe you should lie down for a little while. There’s been a lot going on this weekend.” My mom led her toward the hallway where her bedroom was.
Silence remained for a moment. Finally, I pointed to the stairs. “I’m going to go get changed before lunch.”
“Good idea,” my sister concurred.
“Right,” Greg said.
Everyone scattered. I pulled on some jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. I needed to be ready to clean up outside. Ms. B. couldn’t clean it all up on her own. It was the least I could do before I left.
When I came back downstairs, the doorbell rang.
Ms. Blankenship answered and let out a long, loud gasp.
I peered beyond her, worst-case scenarios flashing in my mind.
The police?
A bomb?
Another bone?
Unfortunately, it was none of those things.
It was my brother.
While everyone else stayed inside and treated my brother like long-lost royalty, Chad and I slipped outside to work. My sister offered to go with us, but my mom insisted she stay inside and take it easy, which was strange, but I didn’t have time to think about it too much.
I’d give my family their moment and their little reunion. It was better if I kept myself busy. Because, with the one simple act of my perfect brother returning home, things suddenly looked bad for me.
I only had a few hours to fess up that I was married. And my scapegoat was no longer viable. Everyone seemed happy to see him, even Sharo—which I thought was weird.
“Your brother isn’t who I expected,” Chad said, pulling the hose out.
I nodded. “Yeah, he’s . . . he’s my brother. Kenji Nakamura, world-class plastic surgeon.”
Somehow, he’d returned home, and now my mom was all smiles. While I was glad she’d cheered up, I just wished she was as proud of me as she was my brother.
I had to keep my thoughts on something else, so I kept thinking about that necklace as I picked up muddy chairs and Chad hosed them off. It had to be significant. I just didn’t see how it wasn’t.
I supposed the most obvious answer was that it belonged to Mrs. Lennox. She seemed like the fashion-connoisseur type with her furs and designer clothes. Had the necklace been hers? If it was, had Big Boy eaten it in conjunction with Winnie dying, or was it just a terrible coincidence?
“I wanted to come outside and help my favorite little sister.”
I looked up and saw my brother there. Really? He was going to get dirty. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his baby-blue button-up shirt and taken his tie off, and was apparently willing to sacrifice his designer pants.
My brother was on the shorter side, but he carried himself like he was a giant. He had a magnetic smile, thick, perfect hair, and a bit of a playboy flair. His practice was located outside of New York City, and every time he posted to social media, he was in expensive-looking bars surrounded by beautiful women. He’d been married once, only for a year, but long enough to have a little girl who was now fourteen. His ex-wife had custody, and I rarely got to see her anymore.
I also thought it was strange that he seemed to know Sharo. How had the two of them met? Or did my brother simply know everyone?
Chad nodded toward the house. “You know what? Maybe I’ll go help get the hair dye out of the rug and shower curtain.”
Aunt Yori had decided to dye her hair red and purple, just like one of her favorite anime characters. If anyone could get those stains out, it was Chad. But I knew what he was really doing was giving my brother and me some time alone.
My brother watched Chad walk away while straightening another chair. “You know, if his hair was a little shorter, I do think he has the facial structure of a Ken doll.”
“Thanks . . . I think.”
“You look good, Sierra. You have a glow about you that I haven’t seen before.”
“Life is good. I can’t complain.”
“So, tell me about everything I’ve missed this weekend.”
He probably had no idea the can of worms he was opening. I spilled everything. And I do mean everything—except for my marriage.
“So, you think the dead body is somehow connected with Mom and Dad?”
I shrugged. “I think it’s somehow connected with what’s going on this weekend. I just don’t know how yet.” I paused. “By the way, do you know Sharo?”
He nodded, setting up the last chair. “That’s right. She’s into the New York social scene, to say the least. Last I heard, she got divorced from her filthy-rich husband—another reminder to me why I never want to get married. When the divorce happens, the ex always tries to leech all your money.”
So that was his reason? I wondered if Mom and Dad knew that. “A socialite wedding planner, huh? The guests here just keep getting stranger and stranger, starting with our direct bloodline: Aunt Yori.”
He chuckled.
Some of the tulle had blown over the back gate. Once I picked that up, we’d be done. I stepped toward the woods, briefly wondering if my buddy Big Boy would reappear.
I glanced down at the other side of the fence and paused. It was a bowl of dog food.
And there was a white, powdery substance sprinkled on top of it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I plopped the dog bowl on my kitchen counter. Everyone stopped talking and turned to look at me.
“Anyone want to fess up?” I asked.
“Is that Cocoa Puffs? I love Cocoa Puffs.” Aunt Yori started to reach for one when I jerked the bowl back.
“It’s dog food, Aunt Yori.” Poisoned dog food.
She frowned. “It still looks quite tasty.”
“Yori!” my mother chastised.
“What are you doing with that bowl, Sierra?” my dad asked. His eyebrow twitched.
“I found it outside.”
Greg shrugged. “So someone’s trying to feed the dog. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that there’s poison on top of this food.” I pointed to the white powder coating.
A couple of people gasped.
“How can you be sure?” my brother asked. He’d followed me inside, barely keeping up.
“I’m not one hundred percent positive, but I’m nearly certain. I’m definitely not going to test it.”
My sister averted her gaze for a moment before raising her hand. “I left the food out there
. I hated to see the dog starve. But I did not put the white powder on top.”
“You like Big Boy?” Surprise dripped in my voice.
Reina nodded. “Of course I do. I’m a vet. I love animals, and I don’t want to see anything happen to the dog.”
“You shouldn’t be handling poison,” my mom told my sister.
“I didn’t!” she insisted.
“So who put the poison on top?” I mused aloud.
A chorus of “I don’t know,” “Beats me,” “No idea” followed.
“It could be a mold,” Sharo offered.
I glanced at her. “Why would you think that?”
She shrugged. “Just a guess.”
“Reina, you should sit down. You’re looking tired,” my mom said.
“I’m fine,” Reina insisted. “I’ve never seen you so concerned about me.”
I stood up. “Does anyone here besides me care that someone is trying to kill that dog?”
No one said anything.
I shook my head. “You know what? I need to take a little walk and cool off for a minute. Excuse me.”
“I’ll go with her,” Chad said behind me.
We walked silently down the road for a minute until finally Chad said, “What are you doing?”
“Cooling off.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all right now.”
“You seem angry.”
“Someone’s trying to kill an innocent dog. Of course I’m angry.”
“You know that Mrs. Jericho already confessed to accidentally killing Winnie, right?”
“I just can’t buy it. Something’s not right.” I veered off the street toward the Lennoxes’ house. “Besides, someone else tried to kill that dog, and this family is my best bet.”
“You’re just going to charge there and ask them?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t let this slide.”
“Sierra . . .” Concern filled Chad’s voice.
“It’s even about more than murder or poisoning a dog. This is about my job with Paws and Furballs. The Lennoxes are the owners of East Coast Fur Traders. I need to explain to them who I am.”
“You think that will scare them? It will probably just annoy them. You need to think this through, Sierra.”
“I’ll tell them that I’m going to do an expose on the company. I’ll give them fair warning. I can be civil about these things.”
“You can be, that’s correct. You just seem emotionally charged right now.”
“It’s called passionate.” I stopped and turned to him. “Don’t talk me out of this. I need to at least speak my piece. If I get out of control, you can reel me in. Okay?”
Chad kissed my forehead. “Okay.”
Some of my tension subsided. Chad had a way of doing that.
I rang the doorbell, reviewing everything in my mind. The fur industry was inhumane. There were better ways of doing things. Did Big Boy have something to do with this? Or was I reading too much into things?
Mrs. Lennox answered. Her eyes widened when she saw me. “You. Again.” She stared at me coldly. “What can I do for you?”
“Mrs. Lennox, there’s something you should know,” I started. “I’m the director of Paws and Furballs. I adamantly oppose what your company does. I find it deplorable how animals are treated—”
“You’re with Paws and Furballs?” Mrs. Lennox asked, her voice filled with surprise.
I nodded, halfway annoyed. “That’s correct.”
“I love Paws and Furballs.” She emphasized the words by placing a hand on her heart.
I blinked. “What?”
She nodded. “It’s true. I was considering becoming one of your supporters.”
“What?” I repeated. This was not how I expected this conversation to go.
“You know we just took over the company six months ago, right? Reggie’s father passed away, and Reggie’s running the business now. I’ve never been a supporter of this industry.”
“I thought you hated animals?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t hate animals. I mean, I’m not a fan of dogs. I really should have gotten something small that would sit on my lap. Horace just isn’t a great fit with our family. He’d rather be tromping through the woods.”
“Okay . . . so you didn’t breed him and use his puppies for your shrug?”
She gaped. “What? No. Never. I would never do that. It’s illegal in the United States anyway. Why in the world . . . ? Never mind.” She shook her head.
“Then what about the shrug you wore today? And the new product you’re launching that everyone’s going to love? And the fights you and your husband have been having?”
“Wow. You are thorough, aren’t you? The shrug I wore this morning is a fake fur.”
“What?” I tried not to screech.
“Yes, we’re changing the direction of the company, and we’re going to be the leading provider of fake furs in the country. Didn’t it look real? I must admit, when I saw Horace, I thought his coat was gorgeous. The piece I wore today was inspired by him.”
“I feel so stupid,” I muttered. I didn’t say stuff like that very often. But it was true. I’d jumped to some major conclusions. “But with the blood—”
“My husband really does get nosebleeds.”
“The bloody tarp—”
“We just stained our deck.”
“The fight neighbors overheard you having—”
“Running a business is stressful.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Listen, don’t worry about it. Better a concerned citizen than an apathetic one. Do you have a card?” she asked.
I reached into my pocket and pulled one out. “Here you go.”
“Great. I’ll be in touch. I really think we can work together and revolutionize the fur industry. I want that to be my legacy. No more animals involved in the process. It can happen. There’s amazing technology out there that can imitate real fur.”
I felt dumbfounded as I turned back to Chad. He shrugged, a bit of a glint in his eyes. Like a smart man, he kept his mouth shut, though.
“Let’s get home,” I mumbled. “We’ve got to have dinner and start packing, I suppose.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
As I shoved a shirt into my suitcase, my mind turned over everything I’d learned. There was something about me that just hated to leave things unfinished, and this whole mystery felt like it had too many loose ends.
The most glaring reason was: if Mrs. Jericho was in jail, someone else had tried to poison Big Boy.
Someone who didn’t know that Mrs. Jericho had been arrested, perhaps?
Someone who still thought he or she might be discovered? Or who thought that incriminating evidence still might be churning in Big Boy’s stomach?
Who might that be? It had to be someone who wasn’t here last night when the whole arrest had gone down.
My mind ran through the possibilities.
And I stopped on one person.
The thought hit me like a slap in the face.
No. Could it be? Clues flashed in my mind with striking clarity. My original theories had been totally wrong. But this one could work.
It could be right!
But how would I prove it?
I could do what the archerfish did. When they spotted the enemy, they shot them with spit to throw them off balance, and then went in for the kill.
In other words, I could smoke this person out. But in order to do so, I’d need my parents’ help.
That thought caused a brick to form in my stomach. But I had to give it a shot.
Because, if I didn’t, a killer might get away with murder.
I don’t know how I convinced them, but my parents agreed to go along with my plan. However, if I had to guess, they were terrible actors, which was a problem, since my whole plan was dependent on them being convincing. In fact, I couldn’t even fathom them giving this a chance and selling the whole idea. But
this was all I had at the moment.
We were going to have a dinner together tonight in lieu of the ceremony that didn’t happen yesterday. But first, my parents wanted to say a few words. The doorbell had just rung again, and according to my calculations, that meant everyone was here.
I glanced at my mom and dad. “You ready to do this?”
“If you’re sure, Sierra.” Worry lines formed around my mom’s eyes.
I wasn’t sure, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. If I didn’t have faith in my plan, how would anyone else? “This isn’t just about Winnie or Big Boy. This is personal,” I reminded them.
“I hope you’re right,” my dad said. His eyebrow twitched.
We walked downstairs together. All the guests were waiting in the living room. I grabbed a goblet of water from the kitchen and tapped a fork against it to get everyone’s attention.
“I wanted to say something before we all sit down to eat,” I started, praying I wouldn’t start perspiring. “I am so thrilled to announce that my parents have graciously agreed to donate three of the valuable costumes they’ve been collecting to Paws and Furballs, one of the leading animal rights organizations in the country.”
My father nodded and stepped toward me. “We knew when we originally bought the outfits that one day we’d like to donate them for a good cause. Two of the clothing sets are associated with upcoming movies that will be releasing. We expect a sizable donation to come from this.”
“An auctioneer is coming to pick them up in an hour,” I continued. “I just wanted to thank my parents, not only for organizing this celebration this weekend, but also for their generous donation.”
A ripple of applause traveled through the room.
My mom joined us at the front of the crowd. “If you would, we also have butterflies we brought in for the service yesterday that still need to be released. I’d be pleased if you’d all join us outside to perform this symbolic act of love and freedom.”
I had to give my parents credit; they’d sold it. They did have a few tricks up their sleeves.
I followed the crowd onto the deck, but Chad hung back. I nodded at him, giving him the signal to go. I’d hang out for a minute before circling back inside and joining him.