“If you tell anyone what I just said, I’ll deny it. That includes Lucas. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“My reputation is shot, I can do what I want.” I tiny giggle escapes my nervous lips.
“Another reason I’m jealous,” he bumps my shoulder with his and bends to pick up the rock. “So we’re okay, right?”
“We’re good. Thank you for talking to me.”
He bounces the rock in his palm a few times. "Too bad I got here too late to stop you from breaking this window." He hurls the rock and glass shatters.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I squeal. “What a rebel.”
“Shut up and get in there. You said this house has something to tell you. Let’s find it.”
I’ve never loved Dustin more than I do at this moment. The emotion is unfamiliar but welcome. I punch him on the shoulder, “Me first.” Careful of the broken glass, I climb into Lucy’s dining room. Dustin hesitates outside. “You coming, rebel?” I finally ask.
“Crap,” he says, then throws his leg over the window sill.
Broken glass crunching under our feet and the police tools jangling on Dustin’s belt are the only sounds in the cavernous house. A massive dining table fills the room. The highly polished wood pristinely reflects the sunlight. Not a mark or scratch on the surface, so different from Grandma Dot's well-used table. Lucy's table sits eight, but appears to never have been eaten on. The shiny surface makes me sad. Lucy obviously had money, but no one to share it with.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Dustin asks.
I listen for a hint from my arm, but now that I’m inside, it’s as quiet as the empty house. “Not sure. I was just told to come here.” I snap my head in his direction, sure he’ll catch the admission. I’ve never explained to Dustin about the messages I get from my tattoo. I once trusted Preston with the information, and he promptly left me.
Dustin watches my reaction. “I was honest with you, why don’t you be completely honest with me? We both know there’s more to your abilities than you tell me. How did the house talk to you?”
He seems sincere. Cautious, but sincere.
I plunge ahead and pull off my coat, drag the sleeve of my sweater up so he can see my tattoo. I look at the delicate black cross on my skin then look at him.
“You’re tattoo? I don’t understand.”
“When I need to know something or do something, my tattoo tingles. Then I hear words in my head.” I pull my sleeve down and zip myself back into my coat.
His eyes narrow in thought, making connections, analyzing my words. “Is that what happened in the corn maze that time?”
I nod, my emotions ping-ponging from hope he understands to shame that he won’t.
“And why you went into that church?”
I nod again.
“Good Lord, Gabby. You’re really a mess aren’t you?” His words would sting, except for the tinge of concern under them.
“I told you it’s not easy to be me,” I sass, turning on my heel and heading into Lucy’s kitchen. I don’t want to discuss the tattoo. He knows and he didn’t run out the door. That’s enough for right now.
“Any tingles now?” he says close behind me, without a trace of his usual sarcasm.
I stare at the granite-topped island in the middle of the kitchen. A pile of papers and a purple felt bag are arranged on the counter. "I don't need a tingle. I found what I am looking for."
The top paper on the stack is a print out of a coin. A gold coin, similar to the one locked in the safe at my shop.
Chapter 19
Gabby
Dustin flips through the pages, more print outs of coins. Some gold and Spanish, some silver ones, some that look like they could be Roman. “What’s all this? Was she a coin collector or something?”
"Lucy was expecting me, said she had something to tell me. I must have been about this stuff." I pick up the purple felt bag, surprised by the weight and the clink of metal inside. I open the tiny gold-colored tie and peer inside. Several coins glitter in the dark of the felt. I pour them out on the countertop.
“Holy cow, that’s a lot of coins.” Dustin touches a couple, slides them around on the granite. “If these are real, they’re very expensive.”
"They're real," I state firmly. "I found one at a shack on the Hartleys' property too," I explain about why I went to the shack and what I found.
Dustin digests the information with the same intense face he wore when thinking about my tattoo. He steps back from the counter suddenly. “Don’t touch anything. This will need to be processed for evidence.”
I hold up my always gloved hands. “Got that covered,” I smile. “Can I take pictures?”
“We already broke in, why not finish the job?” he says.
With my cell phone, I snap shots of the coins and each paper Lucy had ready for me. The headline on an article she printed catches my eye. “Priceless coin collection stolen from treasure museum,” I read to Dustin.
He snatches the paper from my hand, ignoring his own warning about touching them. “This is dated a few months before Crystal went missing.”
“This was in South Carolina,” I point out. “What would that have to do with River Bend?”
“What does any of this have to do with anything? Did you get a reading off the coin you found?” He asks hopefully.
“Just that it’s real.”
His shoulders sag and his face scrunches with thought. “First things first. I need to talk to the coroner about Lucy, confirm what you said about the injuries to her head." He whistles between his teeth. "Gomez is going to tear me a new one for this. She doesn't like her work being questioned."
“Either do I,” I warn.
"Back off, I'm on your side. I just have to do it correctly, follow the facts. You better take your pictures and get out of here. Someone will have to come take care of the horses at least a few times a day. Will screw up the case if you’re caught here.
I snap photos furiously and ask, “What about you?”
"I'll say you told me about the murder and got curious so I drove out here. The window was already broken, vandals, or something." His voice is vague as he thinks. “I climbed in to check things out and found all this.”
“Will everyone fall for that?”
“I’m head detective,” he shrugs. “With an impeccable reputation, remember?” He gives me a grin, a true grin I remember from our childhood, before Dad disappeared and our worlds shattered.
On impulse, I throw my arms around my brother. “You’re a good brother,” I whisper, inhaling the scent of his cologne. Something warm with an undercurrent of outdoors. It oddly reminds me of home.
Under his heavy protective vest and the assortment of tools on his belt, he feels stiff. A moment later, he relaxes and pats my back. “Get out of here.”
That pat was the sweetest gesture I’ve received from him in years. Before emotion can catch me, I let him go and hurry past the massive, lonely dining table and climb out the window into the cold.
I want to call Lucas and tell him what we found. I pull up his info, but my finger hovers over the icon to connect the call. What can I tell him at this point? I still don't know what happened to his sister. He was going with his parents to the funeral home to plan for Crystal's service and burial. Thankfully Deidre chose an up-scale funeral home closer to Fort Wayne, not the local one where Lucy is.
Scrolling through my contacts, I don’t hesitate to connect to my friend, Haley. I check the clock as the phone rings. Our breaks at the call-center were tightly scheduled. If I’m lucky, Haley will be on her break now.
I get lucky and she answers. "Is this the famous Gabby McAllister I saw on TV?" she teases.
Her happy demeanor soothes the tension of what I need to ask her. “Not sure if I’m famous, but I’m available for autographs,” I tease back, feeling a bit self-conscious. Goofing around with friends is a skill I never learned.
Haley doesn’t seem to notice my awkwar
dness. “I saw you found another dead person buried in someone else’s grave. That’s wild.”
I’ve purposely avoided watching the news and whatever crazy theories Lacey Aniston wants to spread. “Did she make me look bad?”
“Just a little veiled innuendo that you must have known that girl was there. Don’t worry, no one believes anything Lacey says.”
“Some people do. I heard she got a job offer in Indianapolis and will be leaving soon.”
“Must be sleeping with that producer, too. She’s a busy woman.” I enjoy the sarcasm and insults to Lacey, but I have other things on my mind.
“Are you still doing any hacking?” I change subjects abruptly.
“The term hacking is so last week,” Haley says. “But if you mean do I occasionally spend too much time researching odd tidbits of information on the internet, then, yes.”
“If I send you a bunch of pictures of stolen coins, do you think you could find out more about them?”
“Sounds juicy, but if you already know they’re stolen, what do you need me for?”
“Anything you can find. I’m not sure they are all stolen. I’ll send you what I have and take a look, can you?”
“Does this have to do with the girl you found?”
“I’m not sure about that either. That’s why I need you.”
"Even juicier," she coos. "Sure, I'll do it. Now, how's that hot detective of yours?"
Dishing with a friend about my love life is another thing I have no practice in. "He's mine now, officially," I say shyly.
Her squeal of delight hurts my ears. “I knew it! Tell me everything.”
"I'm not going to tell you everything," I laugh along with her excitement. "We've just kissed a few times. And he's taking me to an event at the antique car museum tonight."
“Fancy. Are you going to wear that blue dress from your party?”
“I guess. It’s the only dress I own.”
“And it looks so good with your blue eyes and dark hair.” Haley’s interest in my clothes always baffles me. Killers and murder plots are more my speed. “Wear your hair up. Like actually up, maybe a twist with curls hanging down to soften it.”
I let Haley enjoy dressing me up over the phone, but only half-listen. A fancy dinner party is way out of my usual. I’d rather stay home and snuggle with Lucas on the couch, but he promised his mom and I want to support him.
“I’ll come up with something,” I finally say after she’s progressed from a simple twist to a complicated up-do that I don’t understand.
“You have him on the hook now. You have to wow him.”
“I’ll wow him just fine, but thanks for the fashion advice. Get back to me as soon as you can on the coin thing, okay?”
“You got it. Have fun tonight.”
The quiet of my car seems louder after listening to Haley, but I’m thankful for the friend. For some reason, she likes me. Besides her baffling interest in fashion, I like her too.
Minus living through Lucy’s murder, today’s been a pretty good day.
Now just to get through the party with Lucas’ dad and creepy mom.
Chapter 20
Gabby
My curls refuse to be tamed into any semblance of an elegant up-do that Haley urged me to wear tonight. No matter how many times I twist it up and pin it, I look like some odd rabbit with dark curls for ears.
Chester watches me from his usual seat on the back of the toilet. “Don’t stare at me like that. I know I look ridiculous.” Chester only blinks.
Between the dress with too-short sleeves and my mess of an attempt at a fancy hair-do, I feel like an imposter. “You think Lucas would mind if I wore jeans?” I ask Chester, only half-joking.
He licks his paw and ignores my question.
Lucas knocks on my front door and my stomach clenches with excitement and apprehension at our first official date. I dart a last look in the mirror and hate my hair.
"Crap on a cracker." I pull out the many pins and shake my fingers through my curls. The wild mess surrounding my face looks like the reflection I'm used to. "Better," I tell Chester.
If Lucas feels self-conscious in his dark suit and bright blue tie, he doesn’t show it. The suit fits his broad shoulders perfectly, the color of his tie highlights his eyes. The sight of him knocks the breath from my chest.
“You clean up good,” I quip to cover my instant nerves, stepping back to let him into the house.
“So do you.” He runs his eyes over my body and I’m conscious of all the places the fabric clings and the amount of skin showing. His eyes light last on my white dress gloves, but slide away. His eyes never narrow at the gloves, just accepts them as part of the package.
My heart skips faster at the acceptance.
I slide one arm into the best coat I own and he steps forward to help me. “Always the gentleman.” A nervous giggle escapes my lips. I bite them to stop the sound.
He stares at my lower lip caught in my teeth. “Don’t be nervous. This is just a party full of stuffy patrons to the museum, nothing to fear.”
“Easy for you to say. These are your parents and their friends. You’re used to them. I’m the town freak.”
“Stop that.” His harsh words bring me up short. “You are not a freak.”
I’ve soured the mood. “Sorry, I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be.” He leans in suddenly and kisses me deeply, completely. All my nerves melt away. With his lips on mine, the entire world and my place in it snaps into focus. Nothing matters but this man.
He breaks the kiss and I stand with my eyes closed. “Feel better?”
I open my eyes to his face close to mine, blink a few times. “Much better. Can you do that every time I get nervous?”
His husky voice fills my living room, "Any time you need it." He drops another quick kiss on my lips, then opens the door. “Let’s go before I change my mind.” His tone leaves no doubt about what he’d rather be doing with me than going to this party.
The anticipation fills me with wonder as well as fear. I open the door, my hand shaking on the knob. “After you,” I say and hold the door for him.
He walks out ahead of me, his hand trailing across my hip as he passes. The cold night air blows against the skin of my bare legs, swirls under my skirt, but all I feel is the heat Lucas created.
On the drive to the antique car museum in Coburn, I want to tell him about Lucy being murdered, about my conversation with Dustin, about the coins and the newspaper clippings. Grandma’s warning about living, not obsessing about cases, stills my tongue on the subject. This night is an island of happiness and time with Lucas. Tomorrow his sister will still be dead and a killer will still be on the loose. We can discuss it tomorrow.
Tonight is precious and doesn’t need tainted by blood.
“How long has your mom been on the board at the museum?” I ask.
“Years now. Since we were in school. She loves classic cars. Has a collection of her own out in the barn behind our house.”
“I didn’t know that.” I can’t picture Deidre as a car buff.
“Anything fancy and high class is her style,” Lucas responds. “She only has the best of the best. Cords, Duesenbergs, a bunch of other ones I don’t know the names of. They’re pretty amazing. Nothing like the cars we have now.”
“Does your dad like cars too?”
“He likes making mom happy.”
River Bend fades away as we drive down the country highway towards Coburn. I stare at the dark fields, thinking. "My dad liked old cars, too." I say.
“I forgot about that,” Lucas says. “Didn’t he work at the auction park or something?”
"He was a mechanic. He worked on all the cars that needed checked out before they went on the auction block." More fields and trees slide past my window. My mind slides into the past. "I haven't thought about that for a long time. I've been so focused on where he is now, I haven’t let myself remember who he was before.”
Lucas weigh
s his response carefully. “Where do you think he is now?”
“Out there, somewhere.” I motion to the dark countryside.
I’ve soured the mood again. Determined to keep the evening light, I abruptly change the subject. “Will the food be good at the party?”
Lucas chuckles. “Are you hungry?”
“Always,” I tease.
“The food’s always good. The Kingston Winery does the catering.”
“That’s the people who catered my party. Mrs. Mott’s nephew Lane and his wife Vee own it right?”
“Maybe. I just know they make a wonderful prime rib.”
“And wine. Their wine is amazing. And I don’t even drink much.”
“Don’t drink too much tonight,” he warns.
“Why?” I try not to be offended. “I can drink if I want.”
“I’d like you to have all your senses about you later.” Another ripple of excitement shivers up my back at his sexy tone. In all the years I’ve known Lucas, this is a side of him I’ve never seen.
A side of him I greatly enjoy and want more of.
“Maybe just one glass.” My voice sounds similarly husky and flirtatious. I barely recognize it.
He recognizes my meaning.
He reaches his hand to my cheek, runs the back of one finger down my delicate skin. “Just one,” he repeats. I melt at the promise.
If Lucas actually kissed me every time my nerves got to me, we’d spend the entire night making out. Just walking in the door makes me quake. The other guests are decked out in lovely dresses and sharp suits. In my bathroom at home, I felt overdressed.
I feel shabby and worn in my sweater dress against the satiny fabric of the other women. My dress was purchased by Grandma Dot with love and that has to count for more than money to burn on expensive clothes.
I cling to Lucas’ hand for support, my palm growing sweaty inside my white gloves.
Deidre Hartley glides towards us through a break in the crowd. She’s a vision in white drapes with fur edgings. She walks lightly on impossibly thin and tall heels, not a wobble in sight.
In my sensible flats, her loveliness towers over me, but doesn’t reach her eyes. The expertly applied makeup can’t cover the vacant look in her eyes or transform the forced smile into warmth.
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