Coming Home (Detective Dahlia Book 1)

by Laurèn Lee

  My heart leaped out of my chest as I placed my hand on the door of Aroma. I pulled it open and was greeted with the scent of freshly baked bread, espresso and chocolate. While the cafe received a major facelift since I last visited, it still held the same hometown feel as before. Local artwork graced the walls, while the sparkling black and white tiles created a wonderful contrast. My eyes darted to and from each and every patron inside. There was an older couple seated near the counter, a woman reading a book by herself at a corner table, and a few teenage girls huddled at another table whispering over chocolate milkshakes.

  I glanced at my watch to see I was still ten minutes early. I approached the counter and studied the chalkboard menu with handwritten items displayed in cursive. While I'd never ordered coffee here as a girl, I knew what I wanted right away. An older gentleman with a black apron strode toward the counter with a smile on his face.

  "How can I help ya, miss?”

  "May I please have a large white chocolate latte with an extra shot of espresso?”

  The man eyed me up and down politely. "That's quite an order!”

  He didn't see my hands shaking. I needed some kind of stimulant in my body, not to mention a distraction from what I was about to do and who I was about to meet. "Sure is," I replied with a grin to match his own.

  "Coming right up," he said.

  I left enough cash on the counter to tip the man as well before I seated myself at a table where I could easily see the front door and all those who passed the cafe. My burner phone was on vibrate in my pocket. However, I made sure to leave Callie's at home in my handy secret hiding spot underneath the floorboards. I couldn't chance it falling into the wrong hands or my mom or dad finding it and misplacing it by accident.

  The older gentleman brought me my drink with a danish on a small china plate. "Here you go, miss. Enjoy!”

  "Thank you very much!”

  My stomach growled at the sight of the danish. Carefully, I raised it to my lips and took a small bite. The buttery flakes from the pastry fell into my lap while the rest of it melted in my mouth. I moaned quietly in pure bliss. I'd have to bring my mom and Jack here for breakfast again soon.

  I sipped my flavorful drink, wishing it were spiked with some Baileys or vodka. However, despite the body chills, I could feel myself not needing the alcohol as much, even though I still wanted it. I pulled the burner phone halfway out of my pocket and glanced at the home screen, but there were no new messages.

  I took several deep and even breaths. I even closed my eyes and counted to ten. Getting the man inside the cafe was only half the battle and the easy part, at that. If he came, I'd need to trick him into thinking we'd met before. I would try and get as much information as possible on him. I would have to dig deep and expose him for the murdering coward that he was. This was assuming he would show up at all, and that he was, in fact, Callie's killer.

  Several minutes passed as I finished my danish and brushed the crumbs off my lap. I peered into my cup to see less than half of my coffee remained. My stomach tightened as I glanced at the time again. I was beginning to think the guy stood me up. Outside, a thunderous roar erupted from the sky. Within seconds, the clouds relinquished the rain that fiercely poured onto the pavement. My shoulders sagged, knowing full well he wouldn't be coming now. Not in a storm like this. Nearly forty-five minutes had passed since our agreed upon meeting time.

  I checked the burner phone once more, but no word. Should I text him? Did he figure out this was a trap? Panic shot through my body. My mouth went dry. Was I foolish to think I could con a murderer by myself?

  Thunder boomed outside, and the table of younger girls erupted in shrill squeaks followed by laughter. Inside the cafe, the lights flickered on and off for a brief moment. The elderly couple didn't seem to notice the storm as they read a newspaper and paperback novel respectively.

  I stood from the table and collected my things. I needed to go home and regroup. Needed to figure out if I'd ruined my one shot at finding Callie's killer. Should I go to the Keygate Police now and hand my findings over to them? Let the "professionals" deal with the investigation? It wasn't too long ago that I was one of those professionals. I'd been just as tough, if not tougher than any of the male officers in my unit.

  I looked over to see a mirror on the wall and the reflection of a woman I didn't recognize staring back at me. She looked like me, talked like me, but she wasn't me. I was drowning in the memories of the past and consequently losing a bit of who I was each and every day. But, I knew I was still there, deep down. The woman who kicked ass on the force, who took no shit from anyone, the one who proudly carried a reputation for being tough stuff would come back soon. Maybe now, this investigation, was my chance to pull her from the rip currents and bring her back to life?

  I wouldn't give up now, but I did need to figure out my next plan of attack. I strode down the main aisle of the cafe, nodding toward the man at the counter before I departed. While disappointment ebbed and flowed through me, I refused to admit defeat. It wasn't over yet. I had enough clues to keep going. Somehow, someway, I'd find out who this murderous bastard was and ensure his one-way trip behind bars for the rest of his life.

  As I placed my hand on the door to exit Cafe Aroma, a familiar face peered at me from the other side of the glass. I jumped back a few paces once we made eye contact, which gave him enough room to step inside the cafe.

  "Noah! What are you doing here?”

  He narrowed his eyes. "I'm getting some pastries and coffee for Angela. What are you doing here?”

  My cheeks flushed. "Just needed some coffee. Wanted to check out the place, you know. Haven't been here in a long time.”

  "Uh huh. Well, it's good to see you," he said airily.

  I nodded. "Yeah, you too.”

  Guilt rattled my bones thinking of his wife, Angela. The woman was pregnant with their second child, and little did she know Noah and I cheated in his car. Well, at the time, I didn't know they were married, but it didn't squelch the feeling of shame rumbling in my belly. Every woman deserved to be loved and cherished by their husband.

  I stepped out into the chilly air, the mist from the rain kissing my cheeks. I glanced back one more time at Noah, then jogged to my car parked down the street.

  Thirty-Five

  After pulling away from Cafe Aroma, my heart weighed heavily inside my chest. I thought I was on the road to discovering Callie's killer, but it turned out a detour was needed. What would I do now? Sure, I could text the number again, but what should I say?

  "Hey, stranger, it's me again. The girl you didn't actually meet in a bar wondering why you stood me up?”

  I clenched my jaw. The rain pounded my car with fury, but I didn't want to go home just yet. I knew if I let my hands fall idle, I'd reach for the bottle. Slowly but surely, each moment without a drink increased my resolve and allowed me to capture myself back, bit by bit. But if I succumbed to my grief and frustration, I'd trip down the endless rabbit hole once again. Instead of going home, I drove to the river.

  I parked in a paved lot overlooking the water. Not a soul dared come out in the storm, except for me, of course. I sat in my car and rubbed the back of my neck. Callie's laughter erupted inside my mind, the carefree sound of a young girl with the world at her fingertips. I loved her so much. She didn't deserve to die like this and so young. Why did bad things happen to good people while the evil ones got away with murder, literally? Well, I wouldn't let that fly. Not today. Not ever.

  I turned the key in the ignition. My chest rose and fell while I placed my phone in the center console. Lightning flashed outside, followed by a nearby rumble of thunder. I scooted out of the car and into the storm. I needed to feel the rain against my skin. To feel something other than desolation and disappointment.

  Without thinking, I set off down the dirt path alongside the river. Within minutes, my hair was drenched, and my clothes were soaked through. A chill swept over my body, but I didn't mind. I needed a reminder I
was still alive. That despite losing so many people in a short amount of time, I was still here. I couldn't give up, not yet, not ever.

  The tension built up inside my chest until I felt it was about to explode. I broke out into a run, ignoring the thunder booming in the sky. I sprinted down the path, the tears mixing with the rain coursing down my cheeks. I ran until my knees threatened to give out, until my lungs screamed for air.

  Visions of Callie as a girl sprang from memory. A montage of our time together played inside my head and yanked at my heartstrings. Callie twirling in the living room wearing her fairy Halloween costume. Snuggling in her bed while I read her a bedtime story. Wiping away her tears after she fell off her bike. Callie asking me to never leave her side.

  Determination coursed through my veins. I couldn't let that little girl down. And I needed this too. I needed to prove to myself and the world I was still worthy, that even in my darkest times, there was light ahead.

  I slowed my run and eventually stood hunched over where the path intersected a drawbridge over the river. A car's horn roused me out of my exhaustion. I looked up to see a familiar face, my fearless ride-sharing driver.

  "Need a ride?" she asked.

  I looked around to gather my exact location. I'd traveled several miles away from my car. The possibility of having to go back now seemed daunting.

  "Yes, please," I panted.

  Sandy nodded toward the backseat, and I graciously accepted her offer. When I opened the door, I realized I was sopping wet. She watched me from her mirror.

  "It's okay. It's just water." She smiled.

  My body collapsed, and I closed my eyes to collect my breath. "I'm down a few miles. Near Apple Road. Parked in the lot.”

  "Not a problem. Say, what are you doing out in the storm, anyway?”

  Sandy turned the car around and drove in the opposite direction. My breathing, labored, slowed down as I tried to relax. "Just needed, you know, some time to myself." I shrugged.

  She didn't press for more. We rode in silence for the next few minutes until Sandy pulled up alongside my car. I felt in my pockets for a few dollars to give to her.

  "This one's on me," she said. "You just make sure to give me a call next time you need a ride, okay?”

  "Yes. Of course. Thank you," I replied.

  I stepped out of the car and into my own. I waved to Sandy, who returned the gesture before she drove away. In a sense, she was like my fairy godmother. Always there when I needed her most. I chuckled to myself. If only life were as simple and magical as in fairytales. Instead, it was much more gruesome.

  "What are you doing soaking wet?" my mom asked, bemused.

  "I got caught in the storm," I said, which wasn't a lie. Except I didn't reveal that it was by choice.

  "Well, why don't you take a hot shower and clean yourself up? I wanted to go out to dinner tonight, just the two of us."

  "Where's Jack?" I asked.

  "Oh, he's out with a few buddies. He won't be back home until later. I was thinking Greek?"

  I smiled. "Sounds perfect.”

  My mom drove us to Basil's, just outside of Keygate. We chitchatted about this and that, but nothing of significance, for which I was grateful. The disappointment from earlier in the day still sat at the forefront of my mind.

  We walked inside Basil's and were greeted by the heavenly scent of garlic, fresh-baked bread, and the familiar cedar smell. My mom took me to Basil's regularly as a kid and then as a teenager. It was more or less our celebration spot. If I'd done well on a test or won a game at school, she brought me here to partake in dinner and their celebrated dessert: peanut butter pie.

  Almost every table was filled despite it being a weekday. The young waiters and waitresses bustled about with trays of drinks and heavenly entrees. The hostess greeted us and seated us at a booth on the other side of the restaurant. We obediently followed her, my mouth watering along the way.

  "Can I get you something to drink to start?”

  "Just water," my mother said before I got the chance to order an alcoholic drink.

  Disappointment seeped into my mood. I needed a drink, and I needed one now.

  The waitress promptly brought us water and a basket of bread, still warm from the oven.

  "To a wonderful mother-daughter meal," my mom said.

  We clinked glasses, and my hand shook as I brought the water to my lips. I closed my eyes and wished there was vodka in the glass.

  "So, I have to admit I wanted to have dinner together so we could talk.”

  I buttered my roll and frowned. “What about?”

  My mother sighed, and it was plain to see the sadness in her eyes. “Sweetie, what’s going on with you?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, eyes narrowed.

  “I’ve noticed you’ve been drinking since you’ve been home. And there’s lots of alcohol missing from our cabinet. Are you okay? You can talk to me.”

  “Nothing is wrong, Mom. I’m just having a hard time.” I couldn’t meet her gaze. This was ridiculous. I did not have a drinking problem!

  “You know how addictive drinking can be. I know you know that. You don’t look like the same person anymore. And, Elle, I can smell the alcohol on your breath.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed.

  She nodded and massaged her temples. “I’m here for you. I just want you to be happy and healthy. That’s all.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. I promise.”

  How dare she accuse me of having a drinking problem! I’m trying to cope with losing the love of my life. I can stop any time I want to.

  However, deep down, I wasn’t so sure that was true.

  Out of the corner of my eye, a familiar face came into view. My pulse quickened as I froze, watching the woman stride through the dining room with several other women. I turned away quickly, not wanting to make eye contact. My mother followed my gaze until she saw the woman too.

  "Isn't that Noah Joseph's wife?”

  The group of women were conveniently seated at the table directly behind us. Angela sat at my back, close enough for me to smell the lavender shampoo in her hair.

  After I hooked up with Noah upon my return to Keygate and found out he was married, it only took a simple Facebook search to confirm the truth.

  I nodded. "It sure is."

  Thirty-Six

  Our dinners arrived: my open chicken Souvlaki salad and my mom's tender beef Gyro. I half-listened to my mom talk about her and Jack's upcoming Alaskan cruise, but mostly I strived to eavesdrop on Angela's conversation with her friends. I knew it was rude, but guilt shook me to my core, and I couldn't help it. The poor woman, about nine months pregnant, carried the child of an adulterer. I couldn't fault her. Noah was my first love. I knew how easy it was to fall into his trap. If it weren't my desire to leave Keygate and Noah's cheating, I'd most likely still be with him, trapped in Keygate.

  I asked my mom about the types of excursions they booked for the cruise, but I tuned out as soon as I heard Angela whisper to her friends in a hushed tone.

  "Why do you think that?" one woman asked.

  "He's gone a lot. He comes home late at night, says he was working, but jumps into the shower right away before even saying hello," Angela said.

  "Maybe he really is just working hard?”

  "I'm scared, y'all. What if he really is cheating? What would I do when the baby comes? Little Maddy is young enough, she doesn't know what's going on yet. I’d kill someone if he ever cheated on me.”

  My heart leaped out of my chest. I panted as I cracked each and every one of my knuckles. Angela suspected Noah of cheating. Did she know it was with me? I gulped to reassure myself my throat hadn't closed. My stomach erupted into a fit of somersaults, while I was sure my chicken souvlaki wouldn't stay down for long.

  "Everything okay?" my mom asked.

  I nodded but excused myself to go to the restroom. I feared I may be sick, but at the very least I needed to splash my face with
cool water.

  I stood over the sink with the faucet running. Ice cold water poured out of the tap and onto my wrists. I needed to reset my body's homeostasis, but it wasn't working. I may have done some bad things in the past, but I wasn't a bad person. But at this moment I felt like the Devil himself.

  This woman unknowingly shared her husband with another woman. The worst part of it all? I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt how she felt. Noah cheated on me too when we dated in high school. Somehow, most of Keygate knew before I did—or I did know but didn't want to see it. There was nothing like finding out your first love betrayed you. It was a guttural pain, one that cannot be fathomed or put into words. That was how Angela would feel when she found out for sure that Noah had slept with another woman. And this time, I'd be the other woman.

  "Elle Dahlia?" a voice called.

  I turned to see Angela standing there, rubbing her protruding belly.

  "Hi, Angela," I said, my voice quivering. Sweat pooled at the nape of my neck and threatened to drip down my back.

  "I thought that was you," Angela said with a faint smile.

  We'd never officially met, but we knew of each other, just as everyone does in Keygate. From the little I knew about her, she was four or five years younger than me, so we didn't go to school together. But her parents owned a pharmacy in town, so it wasn't a rare occasion that I'd see her in the shop after school if my mom took me in to refill her scripts.

  "How are you? Are you back in Keygate?" she asked as she washed her hands in the sink beside me.

  "I'm only back for, uh, a little bit," I said awkwardly. "My stepmother passed away, and then, as you know, Callie's funeral.”

  A somber stare crossed Angela's face. “I didn’t know her very well, but she was such a sweet girl. Gone far too soon."

  I nodded, my fight or flight responses kicking in. "Well, it was nice to see you. Enjoy the rest of your dinner.”