A Mother's Day Murder (Mt. Abrams Mysteries Book 1)

by Dee Ernst

  And he looked…dangerous. He was dark skinned, probably Middle Eastern, with dark eyes and thick but beautifully formed eyebrows. There was an energy about him, as though he was ready to spring into action, but it wasn’t a nervous kind of energy. Every movement he made seemed deliberate and necessary. His teeth were very white, and his hair was that shiny, almost slick kind of gray that made women want to run their hands through it just to see if it felt as thick and soft as it looked. He didn’t have a mustache, but he should have.

  “Detective, thank you so much for seeing us,” Carol said. “This is my neighbor, Elizabeth Rocca, and she and I have a problem, and we need some professional advice.”

  He nodded encouragingly. I swallowed hard, but my mouth was so dry I almost choked.

  Carol glanced at me. “Ellie?”

  What, me? I was supposed to talk? About what? I had looked into Detective Kinali’s eyes and completely forgotten why I was here.

  “Ellie,” she said, a bit more strongly. I tore my eyes from his face and looked at her. Carol. Oh—that’s right. We were here because of Lacey Mitchell.

  I turned back to Detective Kinali. “We believe something has happened to another neighbor of ours,” I said. “We haven’t seen her for a couple of days, and there are, well, circumstances.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of circumstances?”

  I had a brief flash of this man dressed in robes, riding an Arabian stallion through the desert, sword held aloft, like a character from Lawrence of Arabia. “Her name is Lacey Mitchell, and she lived with her husband and sons in Mt. Abrams, and no one has seen her since last Friday when she picked up her boys at the bus stop. Her husband says she’s with her sick father in Buffalo, but he’s lying.”

  He frowned. “Is he?”

  “Yes. Her father died this past winter. Down in Virginia. Suddenly. Apparently, there was a lot of money involved. Millions. And there’s a wife, but she wasn’t mentioned in the obituary, which I find highly suggestive.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of some sort of separation or divorce, meaning that Lacey would have gotten all the money.”

  He sat back. “And you know this how?”

  I settled myself more squarely in my chair. “I looked it up. I found the marriage announcement, online of course, got Lacey's maiden name, and started looking for the parents. There was an obituary for the father and a small article about all the money. And the mother? Still has a phone in Fairfax, even though she didn’t answer, and there’s no trace of her online since 2002.”

  His mouth twitched. His lips were very full and soft looking. “Very enterprising of you, Mrs. Rocca.”

  “I’m not Mrs. Rocca,” I said. “I used to be Mrs. Symons, but not anymore. Now I’m Miss Rocca. Ms. Rocca. Ellie.”

  “Ellie, then. You must be a very accomplished researcher.”

  I nodded. “I’m an editor. Freelance. I often have to do fact checking for my clients.”

  He tilted his head. “Really? Lucky you, spending all your time reading. Although, I imagine you have to read a lot of things that are not to your taste.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You have no idea. I’m almost done with this mystery and let me tell you, these characters are deaf, dumb, and blind. I figured out whodunit by the second chapter.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. His voice was so deep that he sounded like his laughter came from the bottom of a well. “If I ever write a book, I’ll be sure you read it first. I wouldn’t want my characters to be thought of so badly.” Our eyes met.

  Can I tell you? They were the softest, gentlest, most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. And they were smiling at me. The lines around them crinkled, and there was a warmth and spark to them that made my blood pound.

  This was ridiculous. I didn’t even know this man. How could I think he would be just perfect for me?

  “I’m sure there’s more,” he said.

  I leaned forward. “Her ten-year-old told my ten-year-old that his grandpa was killed.” I sat back, feeling rather smug. Now that was a tasty piece of information.

  “I’m completely unfamiliar with ten-year-old children. Can they be inclined to exaggerate?”

  I shook my head. “Not my ten-year-old. So, you have no children?”

  He lifted his shoulders, then dropped them. “No. It’s better, perhaps. This job is not very family friendly.”

  “Are you married?” What? What did I just ask him?

  He shook his head. “Like yourself, not anymore.”

  I leaned forward again. “Where are you from? There’s a slight accent, but I can’t place it.”

  Beside me, Carol shifted in her chair. I didn’t care. I just wanted him to keep on talking.

  “My family is from Turkey. I came to this country as a small child, and grew up in Queens. After law school, I went with the NYPD. Five years ago, I decided to look for a less, well, stressful position.”

  I grinned. “I bet Lawrence filled that bill. Nothing much going on here besides stolen BMWs and rich kids getting drunk. Bor-ing.”

  He laughed again. “Believe it or not, life out here in suburbia is much more interesting than you’d imagine. In fact, I am constantly surprised at the beautiful and amazing things I come across every day.”

  He was looking at me. Yes, that’s right. At me. And I didn’t even blush.

  “And now, the possibility of a missing housewife and mother,” he said, after a moment. “Is there anything else?”

  “Well, her car and all her clothes are gone,” I told him. “And the house was just put on the market, and the realtor says Doug, that’s the husband, had a power of attorney, and the mortgage was paid off in full a few months ago.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You know, realtors don’t usually give out that kind of information.”

  Carol cleared her throat. “That’s generally true, detective, but Mt. Abrams is a very…well, close-knit community. The local realtor is a close friend of a friend, and that particular bit of information came to us—how can I put this?—on the sly.”

  Why wasn’t he taking notes? He should have been scribbling madly in a moleskin notebook. Instead, he was sitting there, looking handsome and slightly mysterious and powerful and masterful and…wait. Let me just stop there.

  He smiled and folded his hands on the top of the table. “May I ask you a few questions?”

  I nodded. Of course he could. No, I wasn’t seeing anybody. Yes, I loved walking in the woods and watching sunsets. Yes, I did like Italian food, and I’d love to have dinner with him this Friday…

  “How do you know that all of Mrs. Mitchell’s clothes were gone?”

  Of course, he’d have to start with that question. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  He shifted his gaze to Carol. “I would hate to think,” he said softly, “that curiosity caused someone to do something illegal.”

  Carol leaned forward. “Detective, I swear to you, I did NOT do anything illegal. That particular bit of information didn’t even come from Ellie. It came from another source.”

  Carol managed to tell the absolute truth. Amazing.

  He unfolded his hands and placed them, palms down, on the table. “Before I do anything official,” he said, “I’ll call down to Virginia and see if anything was suspicious about the father’s death. I’ll also see if we can find a plane ticket issued to Mrs. Mitchell in the last few days. There are all sorts of perfectly reasonable explanations for what is going on. The first thing that comes to mind is that she packed up her belongings and left her husband. Most of our missing persons have usually run away on their own.”

  Boy, did I feel like an idiot. Lacey left home. She took her five million bucks and just left. So much for my brilliant powers of deduction, honed by years of editing mystery novels. She left; he was embarrassed by it, and since the children don’t know yet, he’d made up an innocent lie

  Poor Doug. I glanced over at Carol and could tell she was thinking the same thing.
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br />   Detective Kinali smiled graciously. “Nevertheless, this is certainly interesting. Thank you, ladies.” He stood. “Thank you for coming in.”

  He gestured toward the doorway, and Carol and I filed neatly out.

  We were walking to the exit, and I felt like my head was going to explode. Lacey left Doug. Of course she did. And I had to go make a fool of myself in front of such an attractive man. I caught my breath. Where did this come from? I still had fantasies getting back together with Marc, yet, and here I was, practically paralyzed with what—lust, love, need, want? I remembered when I was sixteen years old, and Bobby McGowan walked into art class. I fell immediately in love. That’s exactly how I felt, only, you know, with thirtysomething years of wisdom and experience telling me how crazy it all was. But—whatever it was, I could not ignore it.

  I came to a full stop. “Hold on, Carol. Was it just me, or was there something going on between Detective Kinali and myself?”

  She sighed. “Really? You have to ask? Good Lord, there were sparks flying across the table.” She lifted her eyebrows and tightened her lips. “I half expected you to sit back and light a cigarette.”

  “I’ll be right back.” I turned to march back toward Detective Kinali.

  Let me put this out there right now—I’m not brave. I don’t take lots of chances. I’m also not very impulsive. So I cannot explain why I went back to his desk and sat down abruptly across from him, except that, if I didn’t, I’d hate myself for the rest of my life.

  He tilted his head and smiled at me. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  My tongue was frozen to the roof of my mouth. All I could imagine were those strong hands around me. “Yes. Would you like to have a drink with me tomorrow night?”

  His smile broadened. “As a matter of fact, yes. Nicola’s at eight?”

  I nodded, then bolted from the chair and practically ran back to Carol.

  I was hyperventilating by the time I burst outside. Carol grabbed my arm and shook me, hard.

  “Ellie, what happened? What did you say to him?”

  “I asked him out. And he said yes.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Good for you. That man is hotter than a witch’s tit.”

  She patted down her hair and walked calmly towards the car.

  Yes, he certainly was.

  My work was finished. I had done a bit of snooping, satisfied my inner Nancy Drew, then gone to the correct authorities, and now the situation was in the hands of people who actually knew what they were doing and would probably find Lacey hanging around a pool in the Caymans with a studly twenty-three–year-old. So I did not spend the day not working, staring out the window, and thinking about what had happened to Lacey. I spent it not working, staring out the window, and thinking about Detective Sam Kinali.

  I’d had this kind of blind, all consuming crush before. After Bobby McGowan set the bar in high school, at least three equally momentous attachments had followed throughout college. It all ended when I met Marcus Symons, three days after I got my first job as a very junior assistant to an assistant in a major publishing house. Right from the start, I knew Marc was different, because I didn’t just want to spend all my time with him naked. I also wanted to talk to him. Marc had been the smartest, most interesting person I’d ever been close to, and talking to him became one of my life’s real joys.

  Now, I wanted to talk to Sam Kinali. I wanted to know if he’d ever been back to Turkey and what it had been like for him growing up in the United States with immigrant parents. Why had he become a cop instead of a lawyer? Why had his marriage failed? What was his favorite food?

  I’ll be honest and admit that I also wondered what he’d look like without all those clothes, if he’d be hairy—not that I’d mind—how his skin would feel, and if those lips were as soft as they looked. And all that controlled energy—how would that translate?

  By the time I had to pick up Tessa, I was so hot and bothered I felt like I should take a shower.

  “When is Daddy coming?” Tessa asked.

  I swung her backpack over my shoulder. “When does Daddy always come?”

  “Five-thirty.”

  “Okay, then. There’s your answer.”

  She raced ahead. Maggie fell in step next to me. “How did it go with the police?”

  I glanced around. No one was too close. “We gave all the info, and a detective said he’d check some things out,” I told her. “His first thought is that Lacey packed herself up and took a powder.”

  Maggie made a face. “Yeah, I guess that’s just as likely as Doug killing her, then packing up all her things nice and neatly, stashing them in her car, then driving the Suburban into the lake.”

  “The detective, Sam Kinali, is going to be my new fantasy boyfriend.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Do tell!”

  “He’s big and sexy and dangerous-looking, and his eyes are beautiful, and he’s Turkish, so I keep imagining us in the middle of the desert somewhere in a big tent, drinking sweet wine and lolling around on pillows.” I glanced at her. “I asked him for a drink.”

  She snorted. “Oh, Ellie, did you switch to editing romance novels? Is that where this is coming from?”

  “No. I just finished a tedious mystery with no character development and a plot full of holes. If the author doesn’t do a complete rewrite, she doesn’t stand a chance of selling a single copy.”

  Maggie made a face. “Ouch. What happens when you tell a person something like that?”

  I shrugged. “If they want to get their money’s worth, they’ll do what I say. If they want a cheerleader, they’ll get another editor. I get paid to be a hard-ass.”

  She laughed. “And you’re such a softie in real life.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, well, that’s because you don’t get paid for real life. See you tomorrow.”

  I had not seen Cait all day. She yelled good-bye at some point in the morning and did not reappear until just before her father was due to pick her and Tessa up. Kyle Lieberman? I dared not ask.

  Marc beeped from the curb, and the two girls tumbled out of the house and into his car. I waved from the porch, then walked over to Shelly’s house.

  Shelly lived a bit farther down the hill where the houses were still from the late 1800s but were smaller, with even more embellishment. In fact, her whole block looked like a Christmas card in winter, without the snow, of course, a row of gaily painted visions gilded with candles and gingerbread trim. Shelly lived in a long but narrow house with a deep front porch and double glass doors in front. I knocked, then pushed my way in.

  Shelly and I had been going in and out of each other’s houses for so long that our respective dogs didn’t even bark anymore. I went past her sons, sprawled on the couch watching television, and back into the kitchen.

  She was standing over the stove, stirring something and muttering to herself. She glanced up, saw me, and grinned. “So, you’ve hooked a hottie?”

  I slumped against the counter and peered into the pot. “Chili? Are you grumpy about chili?”

  “I’m not grumpy about the chili. I’m just grumpy in general. They’re setting up a new billing system at work, and you know how I am about computers.”

  I did know. Shelly apparently had a special electromagnetic force surrounding her that invariably infected every electronic device that came into her orbit. She’d been through so many cell phones that I wouldn’t even let her borrow mine. The things that happened to her various computers and laptops would have sent all of Silicon Valley into a tailspin.

  “Sorry,” I said. “And yes, I have a date with a very sexy man, and I haven’t dated in twenty-six years. Do you think much has changed?”

  “Ask Carol. Then again, don’t ask Carol. When I saw her earlier she was trying to decide what color pantyhose to wear to meet Leon. I didn’t know anyone wore pantyhose anymore.”

  “Just Carol. At least I feel better about Lacey. I mean, this detective seemed to take us seriously. I think he’ll
really find something out, if there’s anything to find. But I’m pretty sure he’s right, and Lacey just…left.”

  “Yeah, I get having a bunch of money and leaving the old life behind, but her kids? She wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type, but I think she really loved those two boys.”

  I was trying to think. “How was she when she picked them up Friday afternoon? Do you remember? Did she seem like she was extra clingy because she was never going to see them again?”

  “I’m not there for pick up, remember? Ask Maggie. As for you, you got a date out of it. Sounds like a good day all round. Marc has the girls, right? Want to stay for chili?”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks. Celery and cottage cheese tonight. I have to save calories for tomorrow night in case things get crazy and there’s an appetizer with the drinks.”

  “Well, it’s paying off. You look really good. Pre-Tessa good.”

  I looked down at myself. “Thanks. I was going to fill you in on my day, but as usual, you know more about it than I do.” I shot her a look. “What’s with Cait and Kyle?”

  She grinned. “Doesn’t that sound so cute? Cait and Kyle?” She shrugged. “They’ve been seen down at Zeke’s. A couple of times. That’s all. Why don’t you ask her?”

  I shuddered. “Ask my daughter about her love life? Are you kidding? We agreed on Don’t Ask Don’t Tell when she was sixteen. Well, I’m outta here. See you tomorrow.”

  I walked back home, ate carrots, cottage cheese, and celery with all-natural peanut butter. I called my brother, inviting him to fly out for the weekend, but he was spending the day with Cal’s mother. We talked for a long time. Ted was not just my brother, he was one of my best friends, and we always had lots to share. I finally hung up, and since I had gotten very little work done, I went upstairs and made it a point not to look out my window toward the Mitchell house.

  I was in the zone when the girls came home, because I didn’t even hear the car or the front door slam. I snapped out of a rather spicy interrogation scene and hurried downstairs at the sound of Tessa’s yelling.