by Sarah Hualde
Lydia knew he was heading to Ashton PD. He was going to make sure they were handling Charles’ case correctly. Lydia wanted to go with him. She wanted to be near him and her brother. But there was Calvin. She couldn’t leave him to carry this load alone.
Ethan knew the choice was made before he asked. He planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead. “Promise me.” Ethan locked eyes with Lydia.
“I can’t back off,” she answered.
Ethan shook his head. “That’s not what I was going to say. Promise me, you’ll share your information. With me.”
Lydia smiled and kissed her husband smack on the lips. “Always. You’re my confident captain.”
Ethan winked at the inside joke. “I mean it. This time I get to be on your team.”
He gently squeezed Calvin’s shoulder on his way to the door. Ethan waved to everyone else and left the townhouse. It was nearly twelve hours after finding Vikki dead in Con Fuego. How many more hours would it take to find her killer? Lydia didn’t know. But she was certain the police had the wrong man.
“I need to talk to you,” Calvin said.
Lydia’s throat tightened. Well, she was almost certain.
MAUDE, SANTI, AND SCOOBY excused themselves from the group once Ethan left. “We’ll bring dinner by later,” they said. Lydia tried to deter them, but they insisted.
“Please, we need to do something. We can’t get inside our restaurant. At least let us cook for you,” Maude pleaded. “I can tell from your face you don’t think your nephew did this horrible thing. Let us be a help to you while you’re going through this ordeal.”
Lydia relented. She couldn’t guarantee anything would be resolved by the time dinner was ready, but she was happy to know she didn’t have to worry about preparing it.
Kevin and Thaddeus didn’t like their children marinating in the discussions around them. Murder was less than unsavory. A few of the children, Eden, in particular, were getting far too familiar with the subject. It concerned both fathers how much their children enjoyed being part of the mysteries that surrounded them.
Father Brandes and Father Miller decided a trip to buy frozen yogurt and a movie was in order for their broods. They didn’t bother to ask their wives to join them. Kat and Flora were nearly hopping in excitement.
Enoch and Scout were the only children under the age of seventeen to stay behind. Once the hustle and bustle of getting everyone ready and out the door subsided, the remaining group congregated in the living room. Calvin had calmed but not stopped pacing since he arrived.
Lydia tried to escort him up to her room to talk more privately.
“Ivy says you’re good at this. All of you and I’m afraid it’s going to take a team to help Charles.” Calvin chattered as he lumbered to and fro. “Things are bad.”
Finally worn out, Calvin plopped down by Lydia’s feet. She rested a hand on his head. Her wedding ring twinkled from the outside light bouncing off the platinum band.
“This is all my fault,” Calvin started.
“We’ve heard worse, I’m sure.” Lydia offered a gentle smile at her nephew.
“I’ve probably done worse,” Kat said.
Calvin cleared his throat and began. “Vikki didn’t just fall into our lives as Dad thinks.”
“Meaning?” Lydia asked.
“I found her online,” Calvin said. “I didn’t know what I was doing then. I thought I was trying to help dad. I thought I was trying to help Charles and Dad out of a funk. Now, I see, I was trying to patch a hole in my heart. And instead, I caused all of this.”
Kat and Flora shifted. Without uttering a word, they collaborated. Each got up and escorted Ivy and Joan from the room. From the kitchenette, they could hear just about everything, but it gave Calvin room to breathe and think.
Kat and Flora had seen confessions go down before. Lydia seemed to bring out the backstory in a lot of people. But this being a mostly family affair, they didn’t want to push it. Things may get way beyond personal. Calvin had given his full confidence to them. They did their best to offer it back to him. Besides, Lydia would fill them in on any needed bits they’d missed.
Lydia patted the couch cushion and encouraged Calvin to sit more face to face with her. “Okay, let's start this over. Where did you find Vikki?”
“Online,” Calvin said.
“Your dad let you do that for him?” Lydia asked.
“He didn’t know. I did it without his permission. I even met Vikki first, before introducing them. I did everything I knew how to do before I got them together.” Calvin ran a hand through his blonde hair. “A little too much.”
“What does that mean?”
Calvin answered with a noncommittal smile. “But Vikki only drove Charles and Dad farther apart. And then they saw even less of each other.”
Lydia let the first issue ride out and dove into the next. “How did Vikki drive Charles and your dad apart? No one would tell me.”
Calvin gulped and dug the toes of his sneakers into the living room rug. “She kicked Charles out of the house.”
The loudest gasp from the kitchen squad came from Joan, much to Lydia’s surprise. Her other gal pals had dealt with enough drama over the last few months to remain cool even in the midst of the hottest of confessions.
Joan lacked experience. She charged over and threw herself onto the couch beside Calvin. Instead of letting him talk, Joan attacked him with more questions than his tired mind could handle. Lydia hadn’t even started with the good stuff yet. Now, she had no gentle way to get the conversation back on track. Joan had derailed it.
Ivy rolled her eyes at Flora. She loved her new sister-friend and was happy to have Joan around, but Joan didn’t seem to know very much about her family at all. Or at least, she’d forgotten while she was in Africa.
Joan was bossier than Ivy had anticipated for a missional servant. She was also nosy but not in the get down to business and let’s figure this out the way that Lydia was. Joan wanted to know things just because she didn’t want to be left out.
Ivy wondered if Joan was feeling threatened by her. She couldn’t imagine why. Other than that, Ivy was living in Joan’s old room. Ivy prayed over it. She’d witnessed jealousy unravel the tightest of bonds. Her burgeoning relationship with Joan didn’t need an extra tug from the green-eyed monster.
Chapter 15
MAUDE AND SANTI RETURNED in the early evening. The drizzle had turned to rain. Large drops splashed in the courtyard fountain. Lydia watched from the townhouse’s front window. She cradled a bowl of Santi’s shepherd’s pie. The smell allured her to eat when all else distracted her appetite.
Maude’s Braided Nutella Bread Wreath was pulling at her taste buds. Lydia was wise enough to understand her need for substance over sweet. Harrison needed her. Calvin and Charles needed her. And even though, the more she learned about Vikki Winters the less she liked her, Vikki needed her. She would not let them down,
The children arrived back in time to feast as a family. Calvin relaxed after his session with Lydia, though he never went further into his interactions with Vikki. Lydia wasn’t sure how to coax more information out of him without reigniting his guilt.
“Why don’t we all play a game,” Flora said.
Everyone had finished eating the main course and was too stuffed to dive into Maude’s sweet treat. Eloise launched to her feet and scrambled to the back of the townhouse. She returned carting boxes and boards in her arms. Jess jumped up to help her bring them into the dining room.
“We brought some,” Eden said.
“I also found some in the back pantry,” Ever said as he hurried off to bring a different collection to the living room. Sam helped him set up a whiteboard and pass out torn bits of scrap paper.
“Pictionary time.” All the kids clapped.
“I guess that settles the game we’re playing,” Joan growled playfully.
“Now for teams,” Flora declared. The bantering began.
Kat stepped in when the discuss
ion became a throw-pillow brawl. “Okay. Okay,” she said, standing like a lowercase T in the middle of the room. “Simmer and sit.” Her two children snapped into formation when they heard their mother use her Mom Voice. Their friends followed suit.
“Great,” Kat said, clapping loudly. “This is how it’s going to go. If you’re twenty or younger, you are team one, and you get the floor. If you’re twenty-one or older, you are on team two, and you get the chairs and couches.”
The children groaned but complied. Joan and Ivy led the way with Scooby and Calvin following behind them. Neither young man felt up to playing but the distraction sounded better than the alternative. They plopped on the floor near the girls and took turns cooing at Baby Scout.
“Maude, Santi,” Lydia said. “We need you. We’re grossly outnumbered.” Santi smiled at his wife and took her hand. They sat on the loveseat across from the older children.
Flora, again, took charge of the details. “Everyone write out prompts for the other team to draw. Keep it kind. Keep it clean. Keep it fun. We’ll start in five minutes.”
“I’ll start a fresh pot of coffee,” Lydia said. “And hot water for tea.”
Just like that, the heaviness lifted. Pictionary served the perfect mood enhancer. The gameplay served Lydia’s tired mind well. It kept her away from the gloom of her loved ones at the police station but enhanced her reasoning skills at the same time.
She began plodding through possible reasons that Charles would be considered a suspect. His obvious disdain for Vikki topped the list. His access to her food around the time of her death, came next.
The blisters on Vikki’s mouth were due to some sort of poisoning, Lydia was certain. She only awaited official news from Ethan. She didn’t know which dish had been poisoned. But it hadn’t been a communal plate or more people would have suffered the same troubles. Lydia pieced bits of the night together as she shouted out movie and book titles for her team.
Joan stood at the board for her second round of sketching. She unfurled her scrap of paper and frowned. Stumped, she took a moment before flipping over the 30-second timer.
Lydia watched as she hastily scribbled in purple marker all over the board. Attached to the end of the doodle was a stick figure boy holding a tiny wand. At least that’s what it looked like.
Joan repeatedly gestured to the small boy. She flitted between the swirling lines and the boy. Back and forth, she clicked her pen against the board. The children hollered out responses. None of them hit the mark close enough for Joan to comment on.
Then Eden spouted, “It’s obviously Harold and the purple crayon.”
Joan clapped and pointed again at the boy.
“Harold?” Ivy asked. Joan hopped up and down in approval.
“Oh, Santi, really?” Scooby frowned at his friend. Santi shrugged with mischief.
“None of them would know this,” Maude said.
“You do,” Santi said. Maude curled into her husband’s shoulder and gave his neck a tiny peck
“It’s Harold and Maude,” Scooby guessed. Joan sank to the floor, happy her time at the board was over.
“Santi always puts that in. Whether it’s Pictionary or charades, that movie always makes the list,” Scooby explained.
“Why?” Ivy asked.
“It’s my namesake,” Maude said. “Mom was a bit of a mod movie buff. Harold and Maude was her favorite romance when she was pregnant.”
“It’s not romantic. It’s gross,” Scooby said. His mouth puckered like he’d just eaten a rotten lemon.
“That’s your opinion,” Maude said. “It is a bit strange. But that’s what Mom was into when she had me. Thus I’m Maude and not Jenny.”
“Jenny?” Joan questioned.
“Love Story,” Lydia answered.
The younger children dispersed to the table to begin other games since the conversation was less than exciting. Kevin and Thad set them up before returning to the living room.
“I love your name,” Santi added.
“What makes Harold and Maude romantic enough to name your little girl after it,” Joan asked.
“Nothing,” Scooby snapped. “It’s an old lady seducing a younger man.”
“Love has no age,” Joan said
“Real love should.” Scooby grunted.
Maude laughed. “Harold and Maude do have quite the age gap”
Ivy said, “But then, Maude dies.”
“Just like Vikki,” Calvin whispered. Ivy heard him but wasn’t sure what to say. The mood of the room plummeted.
“Maude took her own life in the movie. Suicide and murder are very different deaths,” Scooby stated in flat coldness. Lydia shivered.
Chapter 16
A KNOCK ON THE TOWNHOUSE front door startled Lydia out of her reverie. The game was over and the participants had dispersed in favor of other entertainments and treats. Lydia went to the door and spied a man in his mid-twenties hunkered beneath the awning. The rain had started back up. Lydia quickly opened the door.
“May I help you?” Lydia asked, confused.
“Yes. Maude and Santi don’t happen to be in there, do they?”
Lydia was about to inquire who wanted to know when it dawned on her who was at the door. “You’re from Con Fuego,” she said.
“Guilty,” the young man said.
Santi strolled up behind Lydia and greeted his friend and employee. “Dave,” he said. “What brings you here?” Santi stepped past Lydia and grabbed Dave by the arm.
“I went to your place first. Your aunt said you’d be here,” Dave explained.
Maude leaned into Lydia. “My aunt lives in the townhouse next to ours. She’s a little bit paranoid.”
“A little?” Dave chuckled.
“Well, come on in.” Lydia scooted to the side to allow Dave the bartender to enter.
“I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all,” Lydia said. “We’re all kind of in shock. Being together is a pleasant distraction.”
Dave came inside, striving to leave most of the rainwater out in the courtyard. Santi led the newcomer into the kitchen and offered him a piece of Maude’s rope bread. Dave took it eagerly, and then he spotted Scooby.
“What is he doing here?” Dave’s voice was more surprised than vicious.
He must have known Scooby lived with Maude and Santi. Why was it so startling to Dave to see Scooby hanging out with them, Lydia asked herself. She helped herself to the freshly heated dessert and watched the interaction.
Ivy sidled up to her at the counter. “How much longer do you think Ethan will be gone?” she asked.
Lydia shrugged. She was trying not to think about it. In her mind, he should have returned hours ago. It didn’t bode well for Charles that questioning had eaten up over half the day.
Maude welcomed Dave with a hug. Scooby ignored him. Instead of joining everyone gathered around the platter of pastries, he retired to the back patio area. Ivy and Joan flanked him.
Lydia liked how the girls picked up on social cues and the needs of those around them. Lydia chose to let the young adults alone and instead turned toward the kitchenette to talk with Dave and Santi.
Already in the midst of a conversation, the men nodded at Lydia’s arrival. Maude leaned her chin on her elbows and watched the boys talk. “No, we haven’t heard anything yet,” Santi said.
“But if Con Fuego doesn’t open, we’re all out of money. That’s exactly what they want.” Dave’s pronouncement frustrated all three restaurant workers. He slicked back his hair with the palms of his hands and grunted.
Maude stood to intervene. “No one wants back in the kitchen more than Santi. As for the Skies, I told you, we’ve told you to let it go. It’s not worth the trouble.”
“Fighting for your right to work isn’t worth the trouble?” Dave ranted.
“What have the Skies done, exactly?” Lydia intruded, but her audience didn’t seem to mind.
Santi sighed and turned away from Dave. His shoulders sl
umped. Something other than the murder was adding weight to Santi’s load. Lydia wondered how far she could push to find out what it was. After all, Maude and Santi were friendly acquaintances, and this was Ashton, not Honey Pot. She wasn’t sure she carried the clout or reputation she needed to pull off a subtle interrogation.
Maude patted Santi’s back as she talked with Dave. “Santi and I aren’t worried about Mr. and Mrs. Sky. We feel for them.”
Dave rocked with frustration. “You feel for them?” Again he ran his hands through his hair. Lydia wondered how much his gelled style could take before it wilted under his constant manhandling. As it was, the front spikes of Dave’s hairdo were beginning to frizz and droop. “What does that even mean? How can you ‘feel’ for people who are trying to destroy you?”
Maude didn’t leave Santi’s side. Her eye contact grew more intense and penetrated the space between her and Dave. She shimmered with sincerity and genuine understanding as she spoke. “Our battle is not with the Skies. They are confused. They lost something they were holding very tightly and still weren’t able to save. Santi and I know what that feels like. We hurt for them and pray for God to renew and rebuild hope in their lives.”
At the catch in Maude’s voice, Santi turned his quiet, affectionate face toward hers. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her closer. Santi was a good foot taller than Maude and he held her like a big brother sheltering his little sis.
Lydia’s heart wrenched. The Santiagos’ sweetness to each other made her worry all the more over Harrison and Charles. There was nothing she could do for them at the moment. She didn’t have enough facts to fish through. Lydia decided to follow the immediate train of thought.
“Seriously,” Dave pouted. “After all the Skies have done to you and to Con Fuego, you’re not ticked?”
