Thank you, God.
I hurriedly removed the ugly dress and pulled the next one off the hook.
It was aqua blue colored silk, straight-fitting to the knee with navy blue band around my waist. As I slipped it on, my waistline suddenly lost three inches and my height grew. At least the dress gave the illusion that it had.
“Okay,” said Molly resignedly. “This one suits you a lot better.”
“It kind of reminds me of something Allison would wear,” I said, smoothing the skirt into place.
“Hmmm,” said Molly eyeing me critically. “No, I don’t think so. She wouldn’t wear anything like it.”
“How would you know? You’ve never met her.”
“I googled her. This dress isn’t slutty enough.”
I laughed. “Allison doesn’t really look slutty,” I said resentfully. “Every time I’ve seen her, she’s always looked really nice.” I felt the words choke in my throat.
“Well in this dress, you look nicer.”
I looked at Molly and smiled. “Let’s hope that Riley thinks so.”
“I may not know Allison, but I know people like her. She’s a skank, and no matter what anybody says, I think she’s deliberately trying to hurt you.”
I rubbed the fabric through my fingers, considering what Molly had said, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Molly put her arms around me and pulled me tight. After the best big sister hug, she let go and held me by the shoulders.
“You know what we should do? We should buy one of those little voodoo dolls they sell at the markets and on Friday night we’ll stick pins in it.”
“I don’t think it’s that easy.”
“Then we’ll Google exactly how to do it and voila! Her hair will start to fall out and she’ll get ugly.”
I laughed at Molly’s enthusiasm. “Sounds like a good plan. We’ll just have to keep Riley out of the room when we do it.”
“And don’t go getting all self-righteous about it,” added Molly. “Allison is a bitch if ever I saw one. She deserves everything she gets.”
I just hoped that she didn’t get Riley.
“Now, take this dress off and meet me downstairs. I think I need a sugar hit and that chocolate shop is just the place that will do it.”
Molly opened the fitting room door and stepped out. I watched her retreating back and was just closing my door when the one next to me opened. And out stepped Allison.
I sucked in my breath and hid behind the door, hoping she hadn’t seen us or heard us.
Shit!
* * *
I paid for the dress and met Molly downstairs in the chocolate shop. This was one of my favorite shops for lunch, as just about everything you ordered contained chocolate. We decided to skip real food and ordered an Italian thick hot chocolate with chocolate crepes for me, and a cappuccino and chocolate banana pizza for Molly. Insulin dependency, here we come.
Over lunch Molly asked me about Bradley.
“I haven’t seen him this week, Molly.”
“Maybe he’s moved his tours to someone else’s back garden.”
“Maybe ... I kind of miss him though.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, he’s sort of cute in an annoying kind of way, and the crowd he brings with him can be very entertaining.”
“I watched his video diary last night,” said Molly, spooning the froth off her cappuccino and eating the chocolate. “He said he knew who killed that body in your garden.”
I sat up straighter in my chair at Molly’s words.
“What?”
“You haven’t seen it then?”
“No. Did he say who did it?”
Molly shook her head. “He just said to tune back in tomorrow and all will be revealed.”
“Maybe we should tune in then,” I said, pulling my iPhone from my bag. I swiped it opened and pressed the YouTube app. I searched Bradley and waited for the list of his videos’ to appear. The last one was dated two days ago.
“That’s the one I saw,” said Molly, peering over the top of the phone.
“He hasn’t uploaded anymore yet,” I said, disappointed. I clicked on the last video and made a mental note to speak to Bradley if he turned up today.
Molly and I sat in silence as Bradley appeared on the screen. The video was a short one, only lasting thirty seconds, and it appeared to be filmed in the same location as all his others. A garage. I realized I didn’t really know too much about him. I knew he was only in his early twenties, a few months ago he had moved out of home to live with his girlfriend, but she dumped him after the first week. He was stuck paying rent on his own. I had no idea where that was though.
I watched his boyish grin spread across his face, his facial hair a day past needing a shave. He looked animated as he spoke, saying he had found a clue to who had killed Ronald Smithson, and that he would reveal all after he had spoken to the police. He felt it was his duty to inform them first. He then left us a teaser about logging back on tomorrow and he would reveal who the murderer was.
I looked at Molly, my curiosity piqued.
“Ed hasn’t phoned me with any news. I would have thought Bradley would have spoken to him.”
“Ed?” Molly looked at me, eyebrows somewhere around her hairline.
“The policeman helping me with information.”
“Is this the really good-looking one with the dark skin?”
I nodded.
“Hmmm ...”
“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not like that. He’s just a friend.”
“If you say so.”
I stuck my tongue out at Molly and made a note to call him later to see if he had any news.
* * *
Don’t ask me how it happened, but Riley had dobbed me in to bake Mal’s birthday cake. Surely it couldn’t be that hard?
After the initial panic subsided, I watched The Great Bake Off, and decided that of course I could make a cake. After the third attempt, four emergency calls to Mum, and a quick dash to the supermarket to buy a packet mix, I even managed to produce something that looked and smelled like a cake. And I’m sure the icing would cover the top so no one would even notice the burnt bits.
I put all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and headed to my house to see how Riley was progressing.
When I got there, my driveway was blocked with Allison’s car. I parked on the road and beeped my car locked. Memories of last night stuck in my mind like a red-hot poker along with the memory of the last time I saw her. The snapshot I had was of how she looked at the site of the accident being held by Riley, and the look of familiarity in his eyes. It broke my heart.
After Riley had climbed into bed last night, we’d had a heart to heart, and I had managed to pluck up the courage and ask him how long the two of them had been together. He told me that they had been together for nine months and she had been his first love, but in the end he realized they were not meant for each other and he ended it by joining the army. He now admits he was running away. At the time, it had felt like the easier option.
We discussed our previous relationships. It appeared Riley had been a lot busier than I had been, totaling up four more partners than I’d had. Looking at his gorgeous blue eyes and rock hard abs, I could see why.
Nevertheless, I was apprehensive about Allison being parked in my driveway.
I quietly opened the front door and moved into the hallway. I heard Riley’s deep, sexy laugh float towards me. My heart skipped a beat as I reminded myself how angry he’d got when I’d doubted his feelings for me.
I put my bag on the bottom stair, put a smile on my face and stepped into the kitchen.
“Hello,” I said.
“Lizzie! Hi,” said Allison, with a smile.
“Oh hi, Allison, I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“I came over to see how you were. I feel so guilty about what happened.”
“Don’t feel guilty. I’m fine,” I replied.
�
��But every time I close my eyes, I see Riley’s face and how hurt he would have been if anything had happened to you.” Her eyes filled with the thoughts.
“Well, you don’t need to worry about Riley being upset. I’m perfectly fine and I can assure you I’m not going anywhere!”
“Yes, I can see that,” she replied.
I moved to Riley and kissed him hard on the lips. I felt him stiffen. As we pulled apart, he glared at me. Shit.
“Maybe you should see a counselor,” I said, laughing. “Maybe they can help you with that.” Not that one ever helped me, I thought.
“Oh ha ha ha,” said Allison, with a tinkling laugh. “You’re funny, Lizzie.”
Riley didn’t seem impressed with my humor at all.
“Well, I probably should go,” said Allison, finishing a coffee in her hand and placing the cup on the bench next to Riley. As she moved to leave, she gently touched his arm. “See you tonight.”
What?
“Yeah, and I promise I’ll get started on that broken lock tomorrow.”
After she left, I closed the door behind her and stepped back into the kitchen. “Broken lock?” I asked, referring to his comments to Allison.
“She has a broken lock on her bedroom door she wants fixed.”
“She lives alone. Why does she need her bedroom door to lock?” I asked, hating the fact that Riley would be so close to her bed.
“Lizzie, do you remember the first job I ever did for you?”
I thought back eight months to the day Riley and I met.
“Yes, you pulled the carpet up from the attic room.”
“No, that’s what I came to do. What I actually did was fix the lock on your bedroom door.”
Oh. That’s right. I remember now.
“But that’s because I kept locking it and in the morning it would be open.”
“Exactly. You wanted a lock that worked. Allison feels the same.”
“But my door was only open because I had Joe Woods sneaking in watching me through the night. I’m sure Allison doesn’t have a stalker,” I sulked.
Riley’s jaw flexed at the memory. “I hope not,” he snapped.
“What are you more upset about, Riley? Joe attacking me or someone else attacking Allison?” Tears stung my eyes but I blinked them away before I lost control. As much as Riley and I had talked, we were yet to have a screaming row. Funny, because that’s what I felt like I needed.
Riley sighed, releasing his anger. “I don’t want anyone being attacked by anyone,” he replied quietly. Turning his back, he picked up a hammer and moved through the door to the deck.
I gave an internal scream and made a mental effort to let go of my emotions and stop another argument before Riley defended her anymore. I took a deep breath and released it to the count of three.
“Did Bradley’s tour stop by today?” I called after him.
“No. Why?”
“That’s unusual. He’s always here by lunchtime.”
“Why do you want him?” Riley asked again.
“I just want to ask him about a video diary he had on YouTube. He says that he knows who the killer is.”
Riley popped his head back through the doorway, his eyebrow raised questioningly.
“There’s no harm in staying informed,” I said.
“Is that what Ed Helms is doing for you? Is he keeping you informed?” Riley asked, stepping back into the kitchen. I could see the anger flash in his eyes and wondered how the hell this turned on me so fast.
“What?”
“Lizzie, Allison told me what happened at the crash site the other day and how Ed Helms was there to help you. Did you call him? Because you never called me.”
“No, I didn’t call him. And the only reason I didn’t call you was because Allison stopped me, saying she’d already called you!” I yelled.
“Well he got there awfully fast, and from what I hear he was paying particular attention to you.”
I scoffed, but the memory of the way Ed held my hand came rushing back.
“Did he help Danny the way he helped you?”
“He didn’t help me. He was just concerned if I was okay.” I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly.
“Yeah, I know. He was so concerned he visited you personally in the hospital to make sure you were okay.”
“Is that jealousy I hear?” I asked.
Riley sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. “No, it’s not jealousy. No more than what you feel for Allison is jealousy.”
“Riley, it’s hardly the same thing. Allison has had sex with you! Ed has never touched me.” I felt the air between us crackle with electricity, and the atmosphere turned thick and dangerous. As Riley looked deep into my eyes, his thoughts unreadable, I gulped, the picture of Allison’s legs wrapped around his body making my throat close.
He shook his head, threw his hammer on the ground and stormed out the door. As the front door slammed shut, I felt the tears skim my lashes as they escaped. Shit. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?
* * *
Riley and I stayed out of each other’s way for the rest of the afternoon. The renovation of my little house was nearly complete, the only jobs left being fitting the new kitchen and the painting of the back deck. Once that was done all we had to do was sand and stain the flooring and level the backyard.
I decided to get a head start on the painting. I tried to keep my mind off the argument and kept looking for Bradley and his tour to appear. By five o’clock he hadn’t turned up and I started to worry. I know he could be an annoyance at times, but over the last month I’d grown to like him. I put my paintbrush down and pulled my phone from my pocket. I typed him a message ...
Hi Bradley, I haven’t seen you today. Hope you’re okay J I’m waiting to hear who the killer is!
Then I waited for a response. By five-thirty I still hadn’t heard back and thought that if he hadn’t replied by tomorrow, I’d follow it up. I honestly had no idea where Bradley lived so I made a mental note to call Ed and ask if he would find Bradley’s address and check on him for me.
I moved inside to Riley. I found him with his head inside the wall, looking at some plumbing. Resting my back against the door jamb I waited a beat, just admiring the view. Today he was wearing his usual work clothes of jeans and an old t-shirt, but watching as it pulled tight across his back whenever he moved, I felt my hormones stir and butterflies awaken in my stomach.
He felt my stare and turned.
“Hey.” He smiled, his eyes soft.
“Hey,” I said back.
He stopped what he was doing, wiped his hands on his jeans and moved towards me. Stopping in front of me, he gently lifted his fingers to my nose and wiped off some stray paint from the tip of it. He chuckled.
“I think you have more paint on you than you put on the walls.” He smiled the mega-watt smile and I knew all was forgiven.
“Would you like some?” I asked, nuzzling my nose into his neck.
He laughed and carefully took my face in both his hands. I felt my stomach flip as he lowered his head and gently kissed my lips. My spine dissolved as his soft lips moved over mine and the world became a good place once again. I gave a blissful sigh.
When he pulled up for air, he looked down at me. “I’m sorry about before.”
“Me too,” I replied. “I’m so afraid of losing you, Riley,” I said quietly, voicing my deepest fear.
“I’m not going anywhere. This is my favorite place in the world.”
I looked around what was once my kitchen.
“My kitchen?”
Riley chuckled. “No ... right here ... with you.”
I gave another blissful sigh, stood on my tiptoes and kissed him deeply.
Chapter Sixteen
By the time we got back to Riley’s house, the sun had set and we were running late. I’m not going into detail here as to why we were running late, but I had a memory of a conversation I’d had with Danny about how I never got any work done with
Riley around. My renovation may be behind schedule, but damn, it was worth it.
Riley walked into his kitchen ahead of me and threw his wallet on the bench along with his car keys and phone.
“Ah, Lizzie ... you might want to come here,” he called.
I beeped the car locked and moved to him.
What I found was Cat sitting on the kitchen bench, gnawing on the birthday cake I had made for Riley’s dad, Mal. Shit.
My heart stuttered in my chest as I ran at Cat shooing him away.
“Oh my God!” I cried, looking at what Cat had done.
“It’s not so bad.”
“Are you kidding me?”
We stood and surveyed the damage. My round cake was now not so round.
“What do I do?”
“Nothing.”
“I can’t take it like that!”
“Don’t worry about taking it at all.”
“But it’s the birthday cake. Your dad can’t have a birthday without a cake.”
“Can you fix it?”
I picked up a knife and cut off the edge Cat had been nibbling on. I scraped the icing over it and stood back.
“If you cover it with sprinkles you’d never know,” said Riley.
I sighed. “Bloody cat!”
* * *
I reluctantly took the cake to Riley’s parents after he assured me it was fine and his dad would just appreciate the effort I’d gone to.
I carried it on my lap on the drive and more than once considered throwing out the window. But then I remembered how I’d felt the year Mum had forgotten my birthday cake and knew that no matter what it looked like, I had to take it.
Riley pulled his truck into their driveway, and I followed him into the house.
“Hello sweetheart,” said his mother Anna, kissing his cheek as he passed.
“Hi Anna,” I said, smiling.
“Is that the cake?” she asked, kissing my cheek as she spoke. “Oh, I can’t wait to see it.”
Really? She was about to be very disappointed.
“It’s not much,” I said, inwardly cringing.
“Lizzie, you’re too modest. I’m sure it’s lovely.”
Give Murder A Hand: Lizzie. Book 2 (The Westport Mysteries) Page 17