What if he hadn’t missed me? What if he’d decided to stay up in D.C. permanently? What if the doctors changed their opinions and now concluded that Riley would never fully recover? There were so many scary possibilities.
But sometimes it was better to face those possibilities than to flounder in “what if” land.
I dialed Riley’s number, but my call went straight to voicemail.
My heart dropped. Why wasn’t he answering? He still hadn’t called me back after my last voicemail. That meant that the last time I’d spoken with him was Sunday night.
He’d moved Saturday, and he’d called the next day. We’d spoken, but only briefly. He’d told me he’d gotten to his parents’ house and was getting settled in. He thanked me for being understanding and told me that he’d call again soon.
That was three days ago.
Were my expectations too high? Maybe calling once a week was more appropriate. I didn’t know anything anymore. I just knew that I missed him.
Which was why I decided to take a big leap and call his parents’ house.
Things had been shaky between his parents and me ever since we’d disagreed on Riley’s care while he was in a coma. All of us had since apologized, but I couldn’t help but feel like our conflict was still hanging over our heads.
The immature side of me tried to avoid talking to them all I could, simply because I wanted to avoid potential conflict. And I had to face the fact that some times I spoke without thinking—which inevitably made things worse.
His mom, Evelyn, answered on the first ring with a whispered, “Hello?”
“Mrs. Thomas. It’s Gabby.” My chest tightened.
“Gabby, how are you?” Her words didn’t convey an overly thrilled tone, but she also didn’t sound annoyed.
“I’m doing okay. How are you?”
“We’re managing up here.”
What did that mean? Probably nothing, I reminded myself. I had to stop reading into things. “I’m trying to get up with Riley. Is he there?”
“He just laid down for the evening. He had a day of intense therapy, and he was utterly exhausted when he got home. So it was dinner and bed for him.”
Disappointment pressed on me. “I see.”
“I’ll let him know you called.”
“That would be great.”
“You’re taking care of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. I’ll let Riley know you called after he wakes up in the morning. I know we have another full day, but hopefully he’ll be able to grab a moment to talk. I’ll insist that he does.”
Maybe she was trying to be helpful, but what I heard was: I’ll make him call you, even if he doesn’t want to.
I thanked her, said goodbye, and dropped the phone on the bed. I pulled a pillow over my chest and hugged it for a moment.
It was going to take a whole lot of trust in God to keep myself from dissolving into worry and fear on this one.
But Holly was right. God did do everything for a purpose. Maybe He was just trying to refine me now. And if I was going to live a life of transformation, I was going to have to start living out my faith.
***
By 10 a.m. the next morning, my cellphone was all-abuzz. My first call was Jamie. I filled her in on the case, and she told me that she hadn’t gotten any creditable leads from the website.
My next call was from Sierra.
“Someone toured the building,” she told me.
I frowned. “Really?”
Why would anyone want to buy the old rundown place? That’s what I wanted to think. But I knew the truth. Other people would be able to see it as I did: as a treasure, as a lovely historical house that could be restored to its glory.
“I tried to eavesdrop, but all I know is that it was a man and woman in their fifties. They looked kind of uppity. I heard something about tearing down a wall and support beams.”
I swallowed a little too hard. “That’s too bad.”
“Nothing’s for sure. I told you I’d give you an update, though.”
I heard Chad talking in the background.
“And, of course, my husband wants to talk to you again. Here he is.”
“Hey, Gab. You know how we talked about expanding?”
“I remember you mentioning expanding more than I remember us actually talking about it.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it. I was going to wait until you got back to talk again, but now I’m thinking that offering a full range of contract services might just be the solution we’re looking for.”
“You mean, permanently?” Sure we’d taken on a few other jobs, but … “We’re crime scene cleaners. That’s what we do.”
“We’ll still be crime scene cleaners. That’s going to be our focus. But instead of having to hire subs to do some of the work, I want you and me to be able to do it ourselves. That way we’ll make more of a profit and it will streamline our work load.”
“What I’m hearing is that you want me to learn to put down carpet.”
He paused. “In a manner of speaking, yes. I do. There are a lot of things we can do ourselves. If we expand, we can also hire some more employees to help carry the workload.”
“Which then eats into our profit.”
“Not if we pick up more jobs. We’ve both done mold remediation and we know how to handle water damage. There are possibilities out there.”
“The idea is … intriguing, to say the least.”
“So, you’ll think about it?” His voice lifted with each word. “I have some friends who are contractors who could teach us both what we need to know to get the jobs done on our own. I could really see this becoming a profitable business, Gabby.”
Part of me wanted to scream “no!” I wanted to scream that things should stay the same. That I’d had too much change lately. That I just needed for life to feel normal again. But I didn’t do that. Life went on, whether I wanted it to or not.
Finally, I nodded. “You know what? We should consider your idea.”
I expected him to sound excited, relieved. Instead, he said, “There’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I think we should change the name,” he blurted.
I blinked, trying to buy myself some time as I processed his idea. “From Trauma Care?”
“We need something more generic. Trauma Care sounds very … traumatic.”
I’d named the business when I’d started it. I’d been on my own for a while, until Chad and I decided to join forces. Trauma Care had been my brainchild. I’d had all of the forms printed up to start the business. I’d even spent way too much time trying to develop jingles and ensure that people left positive online reviews.
Trauma Care was mine. Was I just being territorial and stupid? Probably.
But I could hear the hope in Chad’s voice. He was married now, ready to make a living and settle down. He had no reason to think small.
Then there was me. I hadn’t been able to carry my weight lately, not the way I usually did. There just seemed to be so many changes happening at once, and I was having trouble handling them.
In honesty, I had bigger wars to battle at the moment. “Let’s do it. I think it’s a good idea, Chad.”
“Really?” His voice came out high pitched.
“Yes, really. Everything you said. I think it’s a good idea.”
“Wow. That’s great. I wasn’t expecting the conversation to be so easy. I thought I would be safer with an audience. Otherwise, I would have brought it up sooner.”
“That’s me. I’m easy.” I heard what I said and shook my head. “But not like that. Anyway, did you have an idea for what the name change might be?”
“I was thinking, ‘The Cleaning Crew.’”
I scrunched my nose up. “I don’t love it. Why don’t we think about it some more?”
“Got it. Thanks, Gabby. Stay safe.”
We hung up, then Garrett called. I needed some so
rbet or other palate cleanser, only for my brain, which was spinning from all my conversations I’d already had.
“Hey there, Love. It’s Garrett.”
I wanted to sigh every time he called me “Love.” However, I knew the pet name wasn’t reserved just for me, so I let it go. In a move ripe for a lawsuit, I’d heard the man call his assistant the same thing. “Hi, Garrett.”
“I just got into town. Would you mind meeting me at my place to catch up?”
“A professional meeting at your place sounds great.” I had to add the professional part. I knew the man was a player, but I needed to keep my boundaries clear.
“Can you be here in an hour? That enough time?”
“Yup.” Yup? Speaking of being professional, certainly I could do better than “yup.”
I quickly freshened up. I didn’t want to appear too dressy or like I’d primped for Garrett, nor did I want to look sloppy and inappropriate. I settled with a pair of nice jeans, a striped top, and my black leather jacket.
“You look nice.” Holly caught me as soon as I stepped out into the hallway.
I tugged at my shirt. “I’m meeting with the boss himself.”
“Garrett, you mean?”
“He’s the one.” I paused. “Listen, I just wanted to let you know that it was really great chatting last night. Thanks for your insight.”
“God gives us experiences for a reason. Sometimes, it’s just so we can share what we’ve learned with others.”
“You’re absolutely right.” I glanced at my watch. “I’d love to chat more, but I’ve got to get to that meeting. What are you up to today?”
“I’m feeling a little tired. I think I’m going to take it easy.”
“Sounds wise.”
I climbed in my car and set off down the road. I kept an eye on my rearview mirror, watching to see if anyone else would follow me. Because if there was one thing I’d learned it was to keep my eyes wide open.
CHAPTER 13
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to an apartment building in an area of town called Mt. Airy. The neighborhood reminded me a bit of where I lived in Norfolk. It seemed kind of quirky and eccentric and artsy. I already liked it.
I stepped into the lobby of what must have been a fifteen or sixteen story building and called Garrett. He met me downstairs a moment later.
“Let’s talk up at my place.” He hit a button on the elevator. “We’ll let your head clear a moment.”
“Your place, huh?”
“A friend of mine actually owns it. He lets me use it when I’m in town. I run some of my operations out of the city.”
“You never fail to surprise me.”
“There’s a lot I could surprise you with, Gabby.”
I didn’t know what that meant. I wasn’t going to ask. The elevator dinged, and we stepped inside. Garrett pressed the “16” button.
“Penthouse?” I asked, not surprised.
“Sounds quite presumptuous to say it that way, doesn’t it? The ‘really big one at the top’ sounds a little less intimidating.”
The elevator stopped, and we stepped out. Garrett ushered me to a black leather couch. I sank there, and Garrett sat a respectable distance away.
“Any updates?”
I told him what I knew. Wrinkles formed at his eyes, deepening with each new detail.
“You have no idea who this person is who’s calling?”
I shook my head. “No idea. I don’t even know how they know me or how they got my number. Nothing makes sense.”
“Perhaps the police can trace the call.”
“I’ve thought of that but, with cellphones, it’s complicated. Let me wait and see if he calls again.”
Garrett assessed me with his gaze. I felt my cheeks flushing—against my will—and I looked away. Thankfully, at that moment, his cellphone rang. “It’s my assistant. Excuse me one second.”
He slipped away, and I immediately relaxed. I was in love with Riley but, for some reason, this man was making my body react in ways I didn’t want.
I knew I wouldn’t act on any of the things I felt, so I was safe in that regard. Still, I didn’t like feeling a touch of attraction to anyone else. I was regaining control of my emotions when Garrett reappeared.
Garrett sat down beside me. “I’m so sorry, Love.”
He squeezed my shoulder, briefly massaging the tight muscles there. I told myself it didn’t feel good, but man did it ever.
“This case has been dormant for a while,” Garrett started. “I’m unsure why someone is being stirred and upset by it now. The person behind the crimes has been hidden away for a long time. Coming out and threatening you is only risking his own freedom.”
I nodded. His words made sense. “You’re right. Why would someone take that risk?”
He sighed and leaned back. “Maybe I should take you off this case.”
I shook my head. “I don’t like being bullied, Garrett, and that’s exactly what this person is trying to do.”
He plucked a hair from my cheek. “And I don’t like putting people I’ve hired into danger.”
I scooted back slightly. He had to stop touching me. “Really. I’ll be fine.”
I stood and stretched, hoping the action looked natural and not like I was tenser than a cat on a tightrope. Everything still felt surreal. I felt like this couldn’t possibly be my life, that maybe I’d stepped into someone else’s. For a short time, at least.
My gaze scanned my surroundings. The place was modern and trendy and masculine. Quite a change from my apartment complex, which was old and creaky, but it had lots of personality. Maybe Holly and I had more in common than I thought.
“Nice place,” I muttered, desperate for a change of subject.
“Isn’t it?”
“You think your friend would let me stay here if my apartment building sells?”
Garrett gave me a questioning look. I shook my head and waved him off. “Ignore me. The building I’ve lived in for the past five years is on the market. We’re all watching and waiting to see who will buy it.”
“Sounds like the place means a lot to you.”
I nodded. “It does. People have come and gone, but that building has remained steady.”
“Well, hopefully the new owner will let all of you stay.”
He reached down and picked up a glass. He raised it to me. I had a feeling it wasn’t full of coffee this time. It looked like something stronger. More likely liquor. “Can I get you something to drink? Something to take off the edge?”
“I’m good. Thank you.”
He set down his glass, crossed his arms, and leaned against the window. “You have beautiful hair. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I touched one of my curly locks. My red hair had defined me almost all of my life. It was only recently I’d learned to control it so it didn’t frizz out all the time. Now it only frizzed out half of the time. “Thank you. I’ve been called many things in my life because of it. Little Orphan Annie being the most prominent.”
He tugged on a curl and then released it. It boinged back into place. “No, not Orphan Annie. That wasn’t exactly what I was thinking. About that girl from Brave?”
“The cartoon character? Interesting.”
He grinned. “Cartoon or not, she was spunky and valiant.”
And sometimes stupid. I didn’t add that part.
He leaned back, his full attention on me. “I was actually surprised you took this case, you know. I figured you’d have other plans. Wedding planning and such.”
I reached for my engagement ring. “Yeah, well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” My voice quivered, a telltale sign making me want to scream.
He tilted his head, his look inquisitive. “I have a feeling there’s a story there.”
“A story I don’t want to talk about.” I frowned.
He raised his hands. “Understood. How about we go grab a bite to eat and talk some more? There’s a place just down the road. We
can walk there. Sound good?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
***
“I have some questions for you,” I started, stabbing my French fry into a glop of ketchup on my plate. I had to keep this conversation focused.
Garrett nodded. I sensed a new heaviness about him. His normal glib disappeared as he stared at me from across the lunch table. “Of course. Anything you need to know. I’ll do whatever it takes to find out who murdered my family, Gabby. I don’t think I’ll have peace in my life until the person who’s behind their deaths sees justice.”
We’d walked down the street to a pub-like restaurant. The place had dark walls, matching wood trim, low ceilings, and pictures of dogs playing poker. I ordered a burger and fries, and Garrett got fish and chips. Billboard’s top hits blared overhead and a pool table looked lonely in the corner, beckoning someone to play.
I tapped my finger on the glossy wooden tabletop, feeling the need for full disclosure. “You should know I’ve never worked a cold case before.”
“I have confidence in you.”
At least someone did. Riley certainly hadn’t. My heart panged at the remembrance, and I immediately scolded myself. I was supposed to be turning over a new leaf.
He pulled something out of the canvas bag he’d brought with him. “I brought some more notes I found. I gave you the basics before you left, but I thought these notes could be helpful, as well. They’re from the last P.I. I hired.”
“The last P.I.?” This didn’t sound good.
“His name was Bradley Perkins, and he wasn’t as determined as you. Not by a long shot.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”
His eyes sparkled. “In case you didn’t hear me the first time, I have confidence in you.”
“I appreciate that. But …”
“I think some fresh eyes on the case will do wonders, Gabby.”
I sucked in a deep breath and pushed my thoughts aside. “Okay then. Let’s take a look.”
He pulled open the first folder. The picture of a smiling family was on top. I picked it up and studied the faces there. Smiling faces oblivious to what the future would hold. This really could be anyone, any family. No one ever thought they’d meet a violent end until the crime happened to them, and it was better that way. People shouldn’t have to live in that kind of fear.
Christy Barritt - Squeaky Clean 07 - Mucky Streak Page 10
