Tell Me No Lies (An Ava Logan Mystery Book 1)
Page 11
It was after four when I got to Doretha’s. Emma met me at the door and told me everything that had happened to her at school in one breath. Nothing big, no bad grades, no girlfriend drama. Just a whole bunch of little things she wanted to share in one glorious spiel. I retained about 50 percent of the information but nodded and smiled like I was hanging on to every word. She’d probably quiz me on it later, in which case, I’d fail.
In the kitchen, Doretha grinned knowingly. Ivy was at the small kitchen table eating a graham cracker.
“Still fussy?” I sat down beside Ivy at the table.
“She’s been better this afternoon. She has been asking for Mommy though.” Doretha pursed her lips and lifted her brow. “I told her Mommy was in heaven.”
I stroked Ivy’s hair then tickled underneath her chin. “Then that’s what we’ll tell her when she asks.”
Emma stood beside me, twisting the hem of her shirt around her finger. “I think Mason Walker asked me out.” She caught my full attention with that one.
I stared at her with raised brows as I nibbled a bite of Ivy’s cracker. “Oh? How so?”
“He asked if I was going to the football game Friday night. Said maybe he’d see me there.” She sucked on her lips in a bashful smile.
“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t sure in this day and time if that constituted a date. In my book, it didn’t and I didn’t want her to think of it as such if that wasn’t his intention.
“We are going, right? I mean, I told him we usually go because of Cole and all, but now with Ivy, I wasn’t sure if that was going to change. We didn’t go last Friday when we had her.”
I slightly shook my head and shrugged, wondering if she’d already ditched the big sister role. For a boy no less. “We didn’t take her last week when we were babysitting because there wasn’t a game. They had a bye week. We can take her with us. Go ahead and get your stuff together. I’m ready for a do-nothing night.” I still wanted to call Ed Stinger and bite him a new one but refused to allow him into my down time.
Emma turned and went downstairs to the playroom while I started packing Ivy’s diaper bag. “She’s way too young to be that excited about a boy.”
Doretha laughed as she handed me Ivy’s sippy cup. “I say she’s about the right age if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you.” I wrapped my arms around Doretha’s neck in a comforting embrace, breathing in the scent of fried potatoes and green beans. I missed those suppers. I missed her.
She kissed me on the cheek after smoothing my hair. “So it’s a do-nothing night. I like the sound of that.”
“I hope so anyway. Why don’t you come to the ballgame with us Friday night?”
She bobbed her head back and forth, sending her beaded braids clacking against each other. “I might just do that. I can load the kids up in the van and we can get our groove on. Did I ever tell you I was in the marching band?” Laughing, she bumped her hip against mine.
“Only about a thousand times. But what’s one more, right?” My giggle turned into a full-on cackle and there we stood, laughing until we both had to pee.
Doretha thumped her hand on her chest in a dramatic fashion. “Oh Lordy! I can’t wait ’til Friday night. We gonna rock those stands.”
“What do you mean rock the stands?” Emma stood in the doorway, her book bag slung across her shoulder, a concerned expression frozen on her face. “Y’all aren’t going to embarrass me or anything, are you?”
Doretha patted her braids to stop the swinging motion. “Probably.”
“That’s what mothers are for.” I stifled another chuckle and handed the diaper bag to Emma. “And as you get older, it gets worse. Just preparing you.”
Emma tried hard not to smile but the muscles in her jaw betrayed her. “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes then kissed Doretha goodbye. “Come on, Brat. Let’s go home.”
Brat. I liked that. It sounded like something a big sister would say.
Dinner was takeout pizza I grabbed on the way home. Emma and I sat on pillows around the coffee table in the sunroom and ate off of paper plates while Cole was still at practice. A fire burned in the fireplace while Finn slept at Emma’s feet. Ivy sat in my lap and nibbled at the sausage and pepperoni. I felt her forehead often, waiting for a fever to come.
“Maybe she misses her mom.” Emma’s voice was sprinkled with sadness. She must have noticed my numerous forehead checks.
“I’m sure she does. I’m just not sure if that’s the problem or if she’s coming down with something.” The fact I knew so little about this child now in my care weighed heavily on my mind. I didn’t know who her doctor was, if she was current on her shots, or if she’d ever been to the dentist. Certainly Trish would have mentioned any allergies to me the few times Ivy was in my care. There were no “oh by the way, she’s allergic to peanut butter”-type conversations.
“Is she old enough to understand her mommy’s not coming back?” Emma spoke in a hushed voice, like she was afraid Ivy would understand.
I slowly shrugged, handing Ivy another pepperoni. “Probably not, but I’m sure she senses something’s not right.”
Finn’s ears perked up followed by a loud succession of barks. He stood to his full height and stared into the kitchen. There was a rap, rap, rap at the back door then Rick’s voice.
“Ava?”
“In the sunroom.” I shushed Finn then treated him with a hunk of sausage.
Judging by his coat and tie, Rick must have come straight from his office. A black and yellow campaign button for Ed Stinger clashed with the navy pinstripe. Rick stared at Ivy as he removed his jacket and loosened his tie. “I thought she was going to stay with Doretha?” The soft firelight did little to hide the glowing concern shadowing his face.
“Mom didn’t tell you? Sheriff Ridge arranged for us to be her foster family.”
Rick looked at Emma longer than necessary, the surprise obvious in his eyes. He then moved his attention to me. “Wasn’t that nice of him.”
The anticipation of another argument settled in the pit of my stomach like a lead weight. “I tried to call. You were in court.”
“And how long is little Ivy going to be here?” His sarcastic tone was lost on Emma but I got the message. Loud and clear.
“Mom’s thinking about adopting her. Won’t that be cool?”
He grinned so big his eyes nearly closed. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool.”
“Emma, why don’t you take Ivy upstairs and go ahead and give her a bath. Maybe a warm bath will make her feel better.”
She didn’t argue. I stood up, stretching the kinks out of my legs, then sat on the sofa. Once certain Emma was safely out of earshot, I attempted an explanation. “Doretha didn’t have room, and I didn’t want her going into the system.”
Rick shoved a hand through his hair and exhaled louder than needed. “You didn’t think this was something we should have talked about?”
“I tried calling, Rick. I didn’t want to leave a message.”
“Ava, we should have talked about it.”
“We as in me and you, or we as client attorney?”
He scoffed. “Either. You don’t think even thinking about adopting a baby is something we should have discussed before you put the wheels in motion?”
“I haven’t put any wheels in motion. I just didn’t want her in the system, Rick.”
He huffed then sat down beside me on the sofa. “Well, unless we can find her father, she is going to be part of the system. That’s just the hard truth, Ava.” Although his tone had softened, his words stung.
“But she doesn’t have to be. That’s the whole point of her staying with me.”
“For how long?”
I didn’t know how to answer. The reality of the fact I didn’t consult with him about a life-changing event smac
ked me in the face. This was a child I was talking about bringing into my life, our lives. Seeking his opinion had never entered my mind.
I didn’t know if that little fact spoke more about my stubbornness or the state of this relationship.
“I’m sorry, Rick. It all just happened so fast and—”
“Shh.” He draped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure a way out of it.”
I turned and glared at him. “Out of it? What do you want me to do—take her back like a shirt that doesn’t fit?”
He huffed, bordering on frustration. “That’s not what I meant.”
I put more space between us on the sofa. “Then what did you mean?”
He was the one now searching for words. I felt like a pregnant teenager sharing the news with my boyfriend. And it was pretty evident we weren’t on the same page with this issue.
“All I meant was maybe we shouldn’t jump to action just yet. Doretha’s always shuffling kids around. She’ll probably have an opening soon.”
I sprang up from the sofa. Finn lifted his head and stared at me, probably waiting for his cue to attack. I was prepared to do enough for both of us. “That’s exactly what I want to avoid, Rick. I don’t want her shuffled around. I want her to have a home. A real home.”
That truth stung my own being more than I ever imagined. Was there something buried deep that prevented me from thinking of Doretha’s house as a real home? There was so much more than four walls, a covered floor, and a ceiling.
Rick blew a troubled sigh and leaned back on the cushions, resting his head against the pillow. “It’s a noble thought, Ava. I just wish you would have considered us, me and you, before you thought it. Maybe there’s some hidden reason you didn’t.” He leaned forward and shrugged, looking at me with confusion showing on his face.
“Don’t read more into this than is there, Rick. Me, you—us—wasn’t on my mind. That little girl who just lost her mother was. And I’m sorry if you think I acted impulsively. It was never my intention to hurt you.”
He laughed. “Well, you’re right on that. You never thought about me at all.”
I moved away from him, needing to put distance between us. “Look, I need to check on the girls. Why don’t you let yourself out.”
I went upstairs, leaving him in the sunroom, and waited in the hallway until the back door closed. When his headlights shone through the upstairs window, I finally cried.
CHAPTER 14
Morning came too early as I rushed the kids out of the house, hurrying to get them to Doretha’s. A dense wet fog enveloped the mountain, wrapping itself around me like a damp blanket. Ivy didn’t want to put on her coat so I bribed her with a pack of fruit snacks.
John Mark from WebPress Printers delivered the newest issue of The Jackson Creek Chronicle to the office promptly at seven a.m. I liked to look it over before sending it out to the world. On these early mornings, Cole never forgot to remind me that school didn’t start for another hour and a half.
Despite the coat, Ivy was the only one bright-eyed. Cole grumbled about being fifteen and having to ride to school with Doretha, a.k.a. the babysitter; Emma didn’t have time to do anything with her hair so if Mason Walker quit liking her, it was my fault. I couldn’t argue with them. It was a rushed morning following a sleepless night that left me with red-streaked eyes and a headache.
After dropping the kids off with the babysitter, I went to the office and waited for John Mark. A pot of brewing coffee and a fire in Betsy kept me company until he got there. I stood in front of the wood-burning stove, warming my hands and thinking about Rick, and Ed Stinger’s gall at calling Lacy.
My anger was no longer boiling with Rick but it was still on a slow simmer. Maybe it was with myself I found the most anger. He wasn’t a bad man. In girly terms, he’d make a nice catch. Why did I seem so determined to ruin it with him?
Maybe he was more invested in the relationship than I was. Truthfully, I’d never thought of him in a long-term way. My kids didn’t see him as a future stepdad. Not that they had issues with him. They just didn’t think of him in that manner and neither had I. Maybe that’s why he never crossed my mind where Ivy was concerned.
The bell over the front door jingled, startling me out of my thoughts of Rick and our nonexistent future. John Mark called from the doorway. “Morning, beautiful lady!”
No matter how bad I felt or how sad I was, the balding stump of a man could make me smile. The day’s burdens lifted from my shoulders. “Coffee?”
“If you’ve got a spare, I’d love a cup.” He followed me to the breakroom, leaning against the counter while I poured a cup. I slid the sugar and creamer toward him.
“How’s it look?” I peered at the paper in his hands.
“It would be a lot better without all the political ads, but what do I know?”
I laughed out loud and it was a welcome change. It felt much better than last night’s crying spell. “Those political ads pay for the printing which pays your salary which allows you to keep the missus happy.”
I took the paper from him and looked through it, happy to not find anything questionable. “Looks good. As always.” I smiled then took a sip of my coffee.
“Good. Got to keep all my women happy. If I leave the missus, will you marry me?”
“No.”
We laughed ourselves silly as we had this conversation the same time each week. It was our routine. I’d met his wife on several occasions and she’d fight back a smile and roll her eyes at the things he’d say. I couldn’t imagine my life without John Mark any more than I could imagine my life with Rick.
“Words going ’round town you’re the one who found the body.” The laughter had settled and his tone was now somber.
I slowly nodded, not surprised that news had spread. Especially given the 911 operator loved her role as the town gossip. “I was.”
He raised his bushy old-man eyebrows. “I was a little surprised there wasn’t much about it in the paper.”
I leaned against the counter and sipped my coffee, allowing the steam to warm my face. “It’s like walking a tightrope, John Mark. I know things that could possibly jeopardize the investigation, but does the public have a right to know too?”
“It’s a tough situation. I don’t know that there are any clear answers. You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”
John Mark was an old newspaper guy who moved from reporting the news to printing it along with store inserts, college admissions pamphlets, and the occasional yearbook.
“But,” he continued, “your job is to inform the public. If there’s a serial killer on the loose, they need to know that. If it was a random murder and it was just her unlucky day, they need to know that—so they can be on the lookout. But if it wasn’t random, if it was something personal, the public doesn’t need the details until the suspect is caught.”
The bell jingled again followed by Rayne Holbrook’s youthful voice. “Ava, you in?”
John Mark and I took our coffee to the front. Rayne was a sweet kid working his way through college since his mom and dad were a little off center. They lived in a nice tent deep in the forest and thought the mother ship would have picked them up long before their kid needed college money. Rayne scheduled his classes around delivering The Jackson Creek Chronicle.
I didn’t bother to ask if he wanted coffee, knowing he’d have a high-powered energy drink in his hand.
“Those things are going to kill you one day, Rayne.” I pointed to the drink he was holding.
He grinned. “No worse than that pot of coffee you’ll drink today. I’m just getting my caffeine in one large dose.” He moved to the stove and held his empty hand over it. “Bit nipply out there this morning. Wonder if the wooly warm will get it right this year?”
“Y
ou mean will you be able to hit the slopes more than usual?” John Mark cut me a glance coupled with a wink.
Rayne smiled. “Living up here has its perks. That was until we had an actual crime rate. Guess the murder made the front page, huh?”
John Mark and I looked at one another. I answered the question, knowing I’d be asked the same thing a thousand times over. “There’s not a lot of information at the moment. I’m sure it will come in due time.”
John Mark rubbed his hands together. “Well, let’s get this show on the road. The missus is expecting me to take her to breakfast.”
I helped transfer papers from one van to the other then sent them on their way. Nola pulled up in her silver Mercedes as we finished. I was glad we lived in a small town where people knew her dead husband’s life insurance paid for the expensive little car rather than her salary as my office manager.
No matter how friendly a small town can be, they’re chock full of people who begrudge another’s success. Advertisers, like Ed Stinger, would argue that if the paper was doing well enough to pay Nola the big bucks, then I should be able to cut the advertising rates.
Nola dragged her oversized Dooney & Burke bag from the front seat and slung it over her shoulder. “Good morning,” she chirped in an I’ve-been-up-for-hours voice. It probably took her that long to apply her makeup and do her hair. “Another edition hits the streets. The phone will be burning this afternoon.”
I grinned. “Nothing too controversial this time. The town council didn’t meet.”
We went in and both huddled around Betsy. I had been in such a rush to get the kids out the door and to Doretha’s, I hadn’t paid much attention to how really cold it was. Emma was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and no jacket. I made a mental note to change out their seasonal clothes before the soccer moms cast judgment. I had enough change of clothes for Ivy to last a few days but would have to eventually go back to Trish’s for her things. That was one trip I wasn’t looking forward to.