“Boy, it would be great if you were that passive,” Mia said pointedly.
“Did I or did I not tell you to butt out of this case?” Maxwell said to her.
“What part of he came to me is confusing for you, Chief? I was walking the damn dog, minding my own business, which, if you bothered to read the report, you’d know.”
“What I know, Mia, is that I told you to stop investigating this case and you blatantly disobeyed me—”
“Hey, that’s a little harsh, Chief—” Jack started.
“And it’s a little bullshit, too,” Mia said hotly.
“Mia, please!” Jess said.
“Did I or did I not tell you to let the police handle it?” Maxwell said.
“You mean like how you handled it by arresting the wrong man?”
“I don’t care who we arrest,” Maxwell roared. “That’s none of your concern!” He turned to Jack. “Keep her in check or I swear to God I’ll arrest her if she goes anywhere near anyone connected to this case.”
“On what charges?” Mia retorted. “Or are those irrelevant these days?”
Jack leaned over and grabbed Mia’s hand. He leveled his gaze at Maxwell. “Both of you calm down right now,” he said.
“You said half the time the cops can’t give the necessary resources to a case,” Mia said, her face flushed with intensity. “You probably don’t even give a shit who killed Victoria Baskerville.”
“Mia, stop speaking,” Jack growled. “Put it back in the box or I’m taking you outside for a walk, and it’s cold as shit out there.”
Mia glared at Maxwell. Jack and Jess quickly passed dishes to distract them.
“What is this, Jack?” Jess asked, pointing to a plate of mini sandwiches.
“Those are lobster rolls on brioche,” he said. “With crème fraîche.”
“They look wonderful, don’t they, Bill?”
Maxwell stared at his plate. He was clearly determined to keep his sour mood alive. The same sour mood he’d walked into the house with. Mia decided not to sink to his level.
“Corn dogs?” she said to Jack. He grinned and gave her a wink for her effort.
“Jalapeño corn dogs with gingered damson plum sauce,” he said.
She bit into one and her eyes instantly watered. “Mm-mm, delish.”
“What do you think, Bill?” Jess reached over to touch his sleeve. He glanced at her and pulled his hand away to flap out his napkin across his lap.
“I think the whole family’s crazy,” he said.
Mia felt Jack’s foot on hers but he needn’t have bothered. She just figured out what the real problem was and it had nothing to do with her. She watched her mother assess the situation.
“Careful dear,” Jess said lightly, removing her hand, “it is, after all, the family you’re about to join.” Later, Mia would remember the next words like they were the lighting of a fuse.
“So let me ask you, Jess,” Maxwell said abruptly. “Did you offer to score pot for my daughter?”
Jess’s face went white, her eyes round. “What?”
“Mindy showed me the note you sent. I know you’re a little on the avant-garde side, but come on, you do remember I’m a cop, don’t you?”
Jess stood and dropped her napkin on the table. “I’m not feeling well,” she said.
Mia turned to Maxwell. “Are you serious? Have you had a stroke?”
He turned his attention back to Jess. “Did you or did you not send Mindy the note? How else would she have gotten hold of your stationary?”
“I believe I’m finished for this evening,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me.” Jess turned and walked from the table to the hallway, where they heard her bedroom door close.
Maxwell threw down his napkin and Mia turned on him.
“Get in there and prostrate yourself in apology,” she said, in a low growl. “I don’t care what you saw, you should know her better than that.”
He looked at her and then the hallway and faltered, his face flushed.
“Mindy showed you this note?” Mia asked patiently.
“Yes.” He continued to stare in the direction Jess had gone.
“I’m sure Mom sent her a note, Chief. But if you’re saying you think she offered to deal drugs—I don’t care what you saw with your own eyes—you might as well just leave right now.”
The guilt and realization formed on his face as her words hit him. Whatever was going on between these two had been building for days. And if that bitch Mindy wanted to drive a wedge between them, she’d just scored a slam dunk.
“Major fuck up, Chief,” Jack said, shaking his head.
Maxwell stood and rubbed his hands on his jeans, his eyes on the hallway where Jess had disappeared. “Shit,” he said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Go! Go!” Mia urged, standing and picking up her dinner plate. “Come on, Jack. In case there’s screaming, I don’t want to hear it. And if there’s make-up sex I really don’t want to hear it.” She moved into the kitchen. Jack slapped Maxwell on the shoulder, then picked up his plate and followed her.
Maxwell hesitated, as if rehearsing the words he might use. He was still standing there when Mia came back to the dining room for another armload of dishes. His phone rang. He looked at the screen and then answered it.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” he said.
Mia stood next to him and openly listened to his side of the conversation. He felt in his jeans pocket for his car keys and began to move toward the door.
“Okay, calm down, Mindy,” he said. “Tell your mother I’ll be there in a few minutes. If you get there before I do, move her away from the booze.” He hung up and turned to Mia. He gave a helpless shrug and one last look in the direction Jess had retreated, and left.
“Where’d the chief go?” Jack said as he walked in from the kitchen.
“You’re not going to believe this. He left.”
“What? No way.”
“He did. Mindy called with some trumped up story and he bolted.”
“Not good, Mia.”
“Tell me about it.” She looked toward her mother’s bedroom.
“Give her some time,” Jack said, touching her elbow. “Help me in the kitchen and let her sort this out at her own speed.”
“What is wrong with that guy?” Mia said in exasperation as she picked up plates from the table.
“He’s just trying to keep all his loved ones happy.”
“Well, surely he knows by now that’s never going to work.”
They worked silently for the next twenty minutes clearing the table, stacking the dishwasher and securing all leftovers in containers in the refrigerator. As Jack was wiping down the counters, Mia shook off her concern over the fight and came up from behind him. She put her arms around his waist.
“I don’t want Mindy’s mischief to hijack your amazing news,” she murmured into his back.
He dropped the sponge and turned to pull her into his arms.
“I’m riding pretty high at the moment,” he said, his eyes glittering. “It would take a whole lot more than that to ruin tonight for me.”
“I’m glad.” She kissed him deeply and felt warmth spread through her chest. “I intend to fully celebrate with you later at our place.”
He rubbed his hands down her back and kissed her neck. She pulled back and frowned.
“Something’s vibrating down there,” she said, “and I don’t think it’s me.” He grinned and pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket.
“That’s weird,” he said. “It’s the chief.”
“He’s calling the wrong person then,” Mia said acerbically.
“Hey,” Jack said into the phone. “What’s up?”
Mia moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a can of Coke. By the time she turned around to ask Jack what Maxwell wanted, she saw his face had gone serious, his lips pressed in a tense line. A sudden needle of panic invaded her heart.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her,” Jack
said, his eyes on Mia’s. He nodded and closed his eyes, the exhaustion of his very full day finally catching up with him. He hung up and stood holding the phone in his hand.
“What is it?” Mia whispered, afraid to know the answer. “What happened?”
“They found a body an hour ago,” he said, moving across the kitchen to take her into his arms. “It’s one of the twins.”
Chapter 13
Mia held Daisy in her arms on the couch. For reasons she couldn’t name, she’d wanted to stay at her mother’s. Maybe she just felt protective. It didn’t feel right walking out of the same door that Maxwell had. Not when there was so much sadness inside.
“Was it me? Because I didn’t hand in the dolls sooner?” She looked at Jack as he handed her a peppermint tea and slipped into a spot next to her on the couch.
“It wasn’t you. Maxwell said they had a uniform watching the house.”
“Then how?”
“She slipped out. You can’t protect someone who doesn’t want it.”
“That poor girl. Her poor mother. Her poor twin. Why do I feel responsible?”
“I don’t know, darlin,’ you shouldn’t.”
“If I’d found the killer before now…”
“We don’t know that it’s the same guy.”
“Oh, it’s the same guy. You know it is.”
“Maybe.”
“Where did they find her?”
“Are you sure you want to hear all this, Mia? It’s already been a long-ass night. I think you should drink your tea and go to bed.”
“Are you staying?”
“Of course.”
She set the hot tea down on the lamp table and put her arms around him.
“Tell me, Jack, please,” she said.
He sighed. “She was found in an alley downtown about two hours ago.”
“Stabbed?”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“Do you know when they released Cook?”
“Maxwell said he was in custody during the time of the murder.”
“Good alibi, I guess.”
“About the best.”
Which twin was it? Was it Stacy, who was so serious and reserved and wounded? Or Tracy? The one with all the energy and bounce. Who would do this and why? Jeff? Mia had checked her tracker but Jeff hadn’t left his house all night. Did that mean it wasn’t him? Maybe he borrowed his wife’s car? Why hadn’t she thought of that?
That poor girl. Her poor, poor mother.
Jess’s bedroom door opened. Mia waited for her mother to appear in the hall off the living room. Jess was in her robe and her makeup was washed off. She looked like she’d been sleeping.
“What happened?” she asked.
“One of the twins in the Baskerville case was murdered,” Jack said. “The chief had to go.”
Might as well make her believe that as opposed to the real reason.
“Oh, that is terrible. Her poor mother.” Jess looked like she was going to cry, herself.
“Jack and I are staying tonight,” Mia said. She watched her mother’s face brighten a little.
“Oh, good, dear,” she said, smiling bleakly at Jack and then back at her. “I’m glad.”
*****
It rained the day of the funeral.
Tracy Kilpatrick was laid to rest in a simple casket in East Shadowlawn Memorial Gardens off of 87 Scenic Highway in Lawrenceville. Maxwell had warned her there would be a significant police presence at the burial, and there was. Most of it was the little fourteen-man police force of Lawrenceville, but Mia spotted two detectives from the Atlanta Major Crimes division, as well as Maxwell, himself.
She held Jack’s arm as they walked across the grass to the burial plot. Her shoes would be ruined with the mud but it didn’t matter.
Tracy’s whole life was ruined.
Jack reminded her that every single person at Tracy’s funeral would be watched and vetted in the hopes her killer couldn’t resist attending. The cops were paying their respects, but they were looking for the bastard who did this, too.
“Did you see the chief?” Mia whispered to Jack as they approached the gravesite. “Mom wanted to come but he didn’t want her to. I’m really starting to worry about those two.”
“He’s just being protective,” Jack said.
It had been many months since she’d seen Jack in a suit and tie and she forgot how handsome he was when he was dressed up. When he was a detective on the force, he wore a suit every day.
Rhonda Kilpatrick was visible from a great distance. She stood between Derek and Stacy, leaning heavily on Derek, her bulk sagging against him. At one point, Mia feared she would topple into the open grave.
“That’s the mother,” Mia whispered. “She’s devastated. Poor woman.”
“Is that Derek?” Jack asked. Mia had had to come clean about her run-in with Derek Kilpatrick. It hadn’t been a happy beginning to their day.
As if going to a funeral was the happy beginning to anybody’s day.
Mia strained to find somebody she recognized. Aside from the Kilpatricks, she spotted Bill and Debbie Olds, hanging back—they weren’t really friends after all—but in respectful attendance. Mia watched Derek lead his mother to one of the folding chairs in front of the gravesite. She found herself hoping it wouldn’t collapse under her. As terrible as Mia felt about today, she knew she was one pratfall away from hysterical, and extremely ill-timed, laughter.
Derek left the seat next to his mother free and took a chair behind her.
That’s odd. Someone else besides immediate family rating guest of honor status?
Mia and Jack stood back far enough to be observers without being noticed. A middle-aged woman walked past them. Her back was straight, her hair unfashionably long for her age, her face a mask of unshed tears. She walked to the chair next to Rhonda, squatted down and embraced her.
“Who is that?” Jack asked.
“I have no idea.” Mia glanced over at the Olds and wondered if it was bad taste to ask them for a who’s who at the gathering.
“Holy shit.”
Mia snapped her head around to see what prompted the outburst from Jack, and when she saw the guest she nearly repeated it herself, only louder.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
“I don’t know but it’s not good,” Jack said as they both stared at the impassive, cool form of Joshua Cook standing several rows behind where the Kilpatrick family was seated.
“The chief’s seen him,” Mia said, her voice rising in her excitement. Maxwell’s face was a thundercloud of intent as he spoke out of the side of his mouth to the uniformed man next to him. Cook had just settled into his seat when two plainclothes detectives flanked him and pulled him to his feet. Mia and Jack were close enough to hear Cook’s protestations, but the detectives dragged him to the parking lot before too many people noticed the disturbance.
“Why do you think he was here?” Mia asked as she watched Cook being hauled off.
“Who knows? Best not to creep into the brains of people like him.”
They turned their attention back to the service. A minister stood in front of Rhonda and spoke in a low voice, his words not carrying to where Mia and Jack were. The rain came down harder. Most everyone had umbrellas, but Mia was surprised to see Derek holding a large one over his mother and sister. He hadn’t struck her as the conscientious type.
If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t be here. Tracy wouldn’t be here. If I’d gotten the dolls to the police as soon as they were delivered, the monster who did this might not have gotten to her.
“You okay, Mia?” Jack wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Not getting too wet?”
“I’m fine.”
“This wasn’t your fault, Mia.”
“I know.”
But of course it was.
The woman who greeted Rhonda settled into the empty chair next to her. There were about forty people standing or sitting, listening to the minister. Rhond
a’s weeping was loud and constant. Stacy sat next to her mother, her back straight, her eyes dry, as if stunned. An older woman with harshly dyed auburn hair leaned over Rhonda to speak to her while the minister orchestrated the removal of the flowers on the coffin.
“Looks like things are wrapping up,” Jack said as people turned from the gravesite to hurry back toward the parking lot. Maxwell still stood off to one side. “The chief’s not going to be happy we’re here,” he said.
“I don’t care,” Mia said. “If he’d caught Victoria’s killer before now maybe none of us would be here.”
Derek turned to glare at Mia and she found herself glad to have Jack next to her. He was taller than Derek by nearly six inches. The woman sitting next to Rhonda leaned back and caught Derek’s sleeve. He turned to speak to her and then pointed to Mia.
Surprised, Mia watched the woman fix a stony glare on her. A relative? The woman turned to pat a still-weeping Rhonda on the shoulder, and then got up and began working her way through the crowd toward Mia.
Who the hell was this? Mia stiffened and Jack looked down at her.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“I’ll let you know in a minute,” Mia said, barely moving her lips, her eyes never leaving the woman’s face as she approached.
The woman stood in front of Mia, her eyes glancing uneasily at Jack as he towered over both of them.
“You a friend of Vickie’s? Is that right?” she asked.
“And you are?” Mia asked sweetly.
As the woman leaned in Jack automatically stepped between her and Mia. She backed off but her tone was no less aggressive.
“I’m Vickie’s ex-mother-in-law is who I am,” she said. Mia was close enough to tell the woman had been drinking. She was missing several bottom teeth and her makeup looked like it had been applied by someone with palsy.
“Alice Smith?” Mia asked.
The woman gaped. “You know who I am?”
“I’ve heard bits and pieces.”
“You stay away from Rhonda Kilpatrick, you hear me? I don’t know what paper you work for, but it won’t be worth a stay in the hospital, do you hear?”
“Is that a threat, Mrs. Smith?” Jack said smoothly. “I’m a police officer.”
Complete Mia Kazmaroff Romantic Suspense Series, 1-4 Page 74
