According to the police report the attack occurred during a presumed robbery. In addition to the missing cash from the register, Rose’s Celtic wedding ring was also presumed stolen. Did Rose lose her life protecting a ring? People had died for less.
The sole witness was Rose’s friend and co-worker Kathy Morrissey. According to her statement, she and Rose worked the graveyard shift together. The cook left early with Rose promising to cover for him. Kathy unexpectedly started her period and left the restaurant to go home, change and get a sanitary napkin. She was only gone for twenty minutes but when she returned, she found broken dishes on the floor in the dining room and the cash register drawer empty and left open. She ran into the kitchen and found the back door open then discovered Rose lying in the alley, bleeding and called 911. Rose was pronounced dead at the scene. The police found no other witnesses, or a suspect. And Rose’s murder remained unsolved.
Though I’d managed to read the reports without freaking out, I couldn’t make myself look at the crime scene photos. I doubted they’d tell me anything that wasn’t written in the report and I didn’t want to see pictures of my mother dead. Though I did notice that the same detective who investigated my kidnapping investigated Rose’s murder. I made a note of that too.
The idea of contacting Jennifer Scarpello – Rose’s sister and my aunt – bounced around in my head for a while. But it kept coming back to how to approach her —I needed to think about that more before I made a move. I closed the files, stacked them together and shoved them into the drawer of the bedside table.
"What are you doing?"
I flinched and looked up. Ted stood in the open doorway — very sexy in a pair of black pajama bottoms. My body tingled. "For a man with such big feet you sure can sneak up on a person."
Ted entered the room and scanned it with his eyes, noting the empty tea cup on the table and the semi-closed side table drawer. "What are you doing down here?"
"I couldn’t sleep." I picked up a baby book from the bedside table. "I thought I might read up on motherhood."
Ted frowned. "Honey, it’s five o’clock in the morning."
I scooted over and folded back the comforter. "Then how about an early morning snuggle?"
Ted sat next to me and stroked my cheek. "How about you come back to bed?"
I shrugged. "I’m wide awake, and Matt will be here in a couple of hours. No point in going back to bed."
Ted puckered his lips. "So now that you have your own room, I’m going to be sleeping alone?"
"I didn’t want to wake you." I tweaked his nose. "I was trying to be considerate, you silly man."
Ted pulled me out of bed and to my feet. "I don’t like my bed without you in it."
I laughed. "Afraid of the dark? Monsters in the closet?"
He switched off the bedside lamp and walked me toward the door. "Nope, I need the body heat."
We walked toward the staircase. "Any particular kind of body heat you had in mind?"
Ted picked me up in his arms. "Now that you mention it." He started up the stairs. "There is something we could do to warm things up."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Matt and I had a couple more lessons during the week, and on the days I was alone, I studied Rose’s files. A couple of times I even went to the library to search through old newspaper archives but didn’t find any other articles about Rose.
On Saturday, Matt begged me to give him a cupcake lesson. "I really want to learn that swirly frosting thing you do." It was hard to say no to his enthusiasm, and Ted would be parked in front of the TV watching the game all day, so I agreed.
Mid-morning, Ted announced he had a project of his own. I noted that special glint in his eye that said he was up to something. "What project?""
He pinched my butt. "A little something me and the bro’s are cooking up."
I put my mitted hand on my hip. "But you can’t tell me? It’s a big secret?"
Ted tugged on my braid. "Honey, it’s Christmas time. Be advised that it’s nothing but secrets until New Year’s."
I smirked. "Is that a fact? Well, remember that goes both ways then."
He pinched my butt again. "Go ahead, make jokes Smarty McSmartAss but you’re stuck in the kitchen until I’m done."
I gaped. "So now I’m aiding and abetting your secret keeping? What if I have to pee?"
"There’s a door to the bathroom from that fancy kitchen office I built you."
"What if I get hungry?"
"I have it on good authority you’re an excellent cook."
"What if I don’t feel like cooking?"
"We’ll get sandwiches from Billy’s." He whipped out his phone. "I’ll call in the order for lunch now. Pastrami on corn rye with lots of mustard and pickles? Potato salad and Cole slaw?"
My mouth watered and I would’ve swapped Ted for one of those babies right then. "What if…"
Ted put his finger to my lips. "What if you stop trying to ruin my fun?" He looked at the six dozen unfrosted cupcakes lining the counter and licked his lips. "You going to trade me some of those cupcakes for the sandwiches?"
I hip-bumped him. "Yeah, maybe. If Matt doesn’t ruin all of them. Today we’re practicing frosting swirls." Entranced, Ted walked toward the cupcakes but I intercepted him and pushed him out of the kitchen. "Come back when you have something to trade."
Since his brothers were involved, I guessed it was a new nursery and that they’d go overboard as is the way of the Jordans. But if Ted and his brothers wanted to make me a new nursery, who was I to complain?
Matt got the hang of frosting swirling quickly, and we moved onto other decorating techniques. While we worked, we heard a lot of thuds and stomps but the big crash overhead got my attention. "Good God, what are they doing up there?"
Matt smiled and shrugged — he knew exactly what they were doing and that was probably why he just had to learn about frosting swirls that day. Around one, Ted brought in bags of deli takeout. I clapped my hands and tore into the bags —along with the sandwiches and salads he got a large carton of matzo ball soup. As a thank you, I gave him a big sloppy kiss and four dozen beautifully frosted cupcakes. "You have to share with your brothers now."
He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "They’ll have to wrestle them away from me first."
"Need any help carrying those out?"
Matt quickly grabbed the two remaining platters. "I got them." He nodded to the take out. "You get started on lunch, and I’ll be right back."
I tried to see what they were doing through the swinging kitchen door, but all I saw was the dining table. I looked back to the sandwiches and soup, and the food won — the secret could keep another couple of hours.
After lunch, we made doughnuts and custard so I could teach Matt the art of filling and pastry tubes. "Damn! I’m getting it everywhere but inside, dude."
"Be patient, you’ll get it."
By the end of the day, we had trays of mis-shapened, oozing, semi-filled doughnuts that would require a knife and fork to eat. But Matt wouldn’t let me toss them because they were still edible. I laughed. "Then you’re going to eat them."
Matt started packing them up. "No problem dude, be happy to."
I nodded to the left over custard and unfilled doughnuts. "Those too, if you want to practice on your own at home.
That only made him happier, and he pulled out a box for those too. "Awesome. This is like Christmas, man."
He was so dedicated to learning his new craft that I gave him the box of the old baking gear I was saving for the thrift store — including a pastry tube set with various tips. "Here you go bro, pipe to your heart’s content."
Matt stacked up his new baking gear and doughnut rejects and said, "See you Monday." He kissed me on the cheek. "Thanks Scotti, you’re the best, man."
He left through the back door, and I stared after him, smiling to myself. "Go figure."
"What?" Ted walked into the kitchen looking good enough to eat. He’d showered, shaved and cha
nged into a pair of snug black jeans and a gray turtleneck sweater.
I pushed my flour-coated hair off my face. "How can you look so good when I look so bad?"
He grabbed me and plastered kisses all over my sticky face. "You sure do taste good."
I swatted him. "Let go of me, I stink of cake and custard."
Ted bent his head to my belly. "Hey kids, tell Mommy we love the stink of cake and custard. And pie and cookies and cobbler and..."
Laughing, I pushed him away from my belly. "Okay, enough belly talk. I get it, you love the smell of dessert."
Ted untied my apron and pulled it off, then kissed my neck. "I’ll be happy to volunteer for back washing detail."
I stared at the kitchen door. "So, I’m allowed to go out there?"
Ted nodded, and I wasted no time pushing through the door. Nothing in the dining room. Nothing in the living room. Nothing in the entry way. Everything looked exactly the same. I did a full circle turn. Ted chuckled at my confusion. "What did you do?"
He led me to the stairs. "You’ll figure it out."
I ran ahead of him upstairs to check the spare rooms but didn’t find a new nursery or anything else. I gave up and stomped into the bathroom and closed the door. Ted knocked. "Need any help in there?"
I turned on the shower and peeled off my sticky clothes. "Yeah, fire up the grill and start dinner. Because I’m not cooking tonight." I stepped into the steamy water. "And throw some corn on there while you’re at it."
Ted opened the door a crack and stuck his head into the steamy room. "Nope."
I stuck my head out the shower. "What do you mean, nope?" Ted came into the room and pulled off his sweater. "What are you doing?"
He took off his shoes and socks. "I’m going to help you."
"I don’t need help, I need dinner."
He dropped his jeans and stepped into the shower. "I’ll tell you what." He slipped his arms around my waist and pressed against me. "How about you help me with one more little project then I’ll take you to dinner?"
I leaned back into his embrace. "What kind of project?"
He kissed my neck. "A husband and wife project."
<<>>
After a big steak and lobster dinner, we drove by a Christmas tree lot and decided to stop. The crisp air smelled of pine, sawdust and cinnamon and that sweet Christmassy feeling welled up inside me. You know the way you feel when you see those really sentimental Christmas card commercials? I rubbed my belly and stepped into a future where my kids were hanging stockings and putting out cookies and milk for Santa. And Ted and I were up late putting together bikes and dollhouses. Ted pulled me out of my Christmas fantasy and said, "How about this one?" He held out a ten-foot Noble with beautifully spaced branches and silvery green needles.
"That’s one big tree."
Ted grabbed the tree by its trunk and shook it. "It’ll look great in the living room, by the fireplace."
He was right, it would look great by the fireplace, especially after it was strung with lights and hung with ornaments, reflecting the light from the fire." She’s a beauty. Your heart’s really set on that one, huh?" Ted nodded like a big kid. I put my arms around his waist. "Then that’s the one we should get." Ted gave me a smacking kiss on the lips, then called the attendant, who was happy to sell us one of the most expensive trees on the lot. While we waited for the tree, I snuggled into Ted’s arms. "I’ve been thinking about Ingrid."
Ted’s body tensed. "Why?"
"I don’t know. I keep expecting her to jump out of the bushes at me."
Ted lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. "She’s not coming back."
I shivered. "I just feel her. Around. Creeps me out."
Ted bear-hugged me. "It’s not her — she’s not out there." He hugged me tight. "You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you." He kissed the top of my head. "And I’ve got five brothers for back up if anybody tries."
I sighed and put my head on his chest. "Okay." Then I said, "Joe wants me to do more work on the Atkinson case." Ted said nothing and I looked up. "Did you hear what I said?"
"I heard you."
"Nothing to say for yourself?"
His eyes were black emeralds in the moonlight. "You know where I stand on the subject."
"It’s sitting at the table during jury selection." I hugged him tighter. "Nothing hazardous." Ted remained silent and I frowned. "I like it better when you argue with me."
He sighed and stroked my hair. "In one of those baby books that you’re pretending to read, they say it’s important not to upset expectant mothers."
I stood back and smiled at him. "You’ve been reading the baby books?"
Ted smirked. "One of us has to."
I looked around the lot wondering how long it took to prepare one Christmas tree. "Well good," I finally said. "Then I don’t have to."
Ted laughed. "So you’re admitting you haven’t read any of them?"
The attendant approached us, carrying the tree. "Look, the tree is ready."
When Ted parked in the drive, I hurried out of the car to open the front door. He caught me by the arm. "Wait a minute." He pulled a remote out of his pocket and clicked it. My whole house lit up in sparkling Christmas lights. "Surprise."
I squealed and jumped up and down. The old house twinkled like a Christmas tree in an old-fashioned card. No Santa’s, snowmen, giant candy canes or rooftop reindeers – just a web of twinkling white lights strung at the eaves and roofline and laced through the trees; punctuated with huge silver and gold Christmas bulbs. Ted slung his arm around my shoulders. "What do you think, wife?"
I hugged him. "I wish the babies were here to see it."
He hugged me tight. "Next year."
I rubbed my belly and stepped into that future Christmas again and smiled.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sunday, we finished trimming the tree, and it was so pretty that we decided to eat dinner in the living room every night until we took it down. I dug into my boxes of Christmas decorations and added a wreath on the door, my angel collection on the mantle, a few throw pillows and a red plaid sofa blanket. And Christmas was alive and well in the Jordan house. And then the weekend was over, and we went back to the non-Christmas portion of our program.
After Ted went to work, I called Matt to cancel our lesson. Joe had the day free, and we were working Rose’s case, so Matt would have to wait to show me his doughnut filling skills. "But dude I practiced all day yesterday. And I think I got it — it’s all in the wrists. Am I right?"
"Sorry buddy but I have to hit the malls for Christmas gifts."
"I’ll go with you."
"Nope."
"Why?"
"Because Christmas is the magical time of secrets, right?"
Matt chuckled. "Ah, yeah. Right. So tomorrow then?"
Joe pulled into my drive and honked the horn. "No, Wednesday. Gotta go." I hung up before he could interrogate me about Tuesday.
I went out the door and rushed down the walk to Joe’s idling Lincoln. "’Bout time you came out."
I buckled up. "Good morning to you too, Gramps." I cranked my hand. "Let’s go."
Our first stop was Burbank to meet with Detective Nelson Marley — the man who investigated my kidnapping and oddly enough Rose’s murder. Now retired, he lived with his son and daughter-in-law in a nice ranch style house on Sparks Street.
Marley was a husky black man whose eyes reminded me of Muhammad Ali. I guessed him to be in his seventies, but he was spry and fit. His daughter-in-law brought us coffee, then left us alone in the den. His case files and notes sat on the coffee table. Marley sat in an old leather recliner, and we took the sofa opposite him. He waved a hand at the files. "That’s everything. Help yourself."
He couldn’t stop staring at me, and I smiled at him. "I look a lot like her, don’t I?"
Marley nodded. "Yes, ma’am."
Joe got busy with the files and made notes while I simmered over with curiosity. "It’s really nice of you to le
t us see the files. But do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Marley shrugged. "I’m here. You might as well."
"Why didn’t you believe Rose about the kidnapping?"
Marley raised his bushy white brows and chuckled. "You don’t waste no time getting to the point, do you?" I waited for an answer to my question. He scratched his jaw with a big rough hand. "Because her story didn’t make sense. Wasn’t no proof or evidence."
I frowned. "No offense but wasn’t finding evidence your job?" Marley squirmed. I flapped a hand. "Okay, sorry, never mind. It’s just from what I can tell, Rose didn’t seem dishonest. But you thought she was the kind of person who’d make up a story like that?"
Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) Page 18
