"Oh, I did. Just what kind of welcome wagon reception should I expect?" There was a tinge of trepidation in his voice.
I immediately thought of the sheer camisole set I'd bought. "Definitely friendly. There are some things we should probably talk through, though."
"Mac and I are flying to Florida later today. We're going to rent a U-Haul, pack everything up, and be back late next week. How about a date? Next Saturday night at my place. It'll be a mess, but—"
"You're moving in so soon?"
"Immediate occupancy."
"All right, then. I'll bring the pizza."
I hung up, smiling like a fool.
Twenty-Three
"I can't believe you're recruiting a poor innocent child into helping you."
I rolled my eyes. "You cannot help, Mom. Buzz knows who you are."
"He knows Riley too."
"He's only seen Riley once or twice, and he'll never recognize him in that getup. I don't recognize him in that getup."
"I don't recognize me either," Riley said, taking in the drooping sweatpants, zippered hooded sweatshirt, aviator sunglasses. "I can't believe I'm wearing a Dr Pepper hat. What's my life come to?"
From the closet, I pulled out my down vest. "Hey. Don't knock my hat."
My mother shook her head. "I cannot believe you own a Dr Pepper hat. Where have I gone wrong?"
I ignored her. "Buzz's kids will be getting out of school soon, so we've got to hurry. Hopefully he'll be outside waiting for them, if not walking them home."
Riley pulled open the front door. "Is it sad that this is the most exciting thing to happen to me since I came back from nothing to w—" He cut himself off, then finished lamely, "—to win a cribbage match against Mr. C last summer?"
I arched an eyebrow.
He grinned.
My mother said, "Pah."
No use in pushing. I wouldn't get anything else out of Ri ley. When pressed, he clammed up tighter than Ana when she was asked how many one-night stands she'd had.
My mother picked up her handbag. "Well, I'll come with you."
"There's really no need."
She gave me the Ceceri Evil Eye.
"Fine. Suit yourself."
Riley said, "Can you teach me how to do that?"
"What?" I asked, grabbing my Kroger bag and locking the door.
"The eye thing." He tried, and looked so funny I couldn't help but laugh.
"We'll work on it, Ry," my mother said. "It must come from deep within." She eyed my bag.
"Like that?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, climbing into the cab of my TBS truck. "Except it's usually used on people."
Riley settled himself in the small backseat.
My mother poked the Kroger bag with the tip of her acrylic nail. "What, pray tell, is that? Where is your Coach bag?"
I couldn't very well tell her about Ana's method of detox.
"Ana chucked it out the window," Riley said from the backseat.
Readjusting the rearview mirror, I gave him the evil eye.
"I've really got to learn that," he muttered.
My mother fussed with her fingernails, probably thinking about filing them into daggers. "I must have a word with Ana."
I had to warn her ASAP.
"Chérie, you certainly can't go around carrying your things in a plastic sack."
I drove slowly through the Mill. "It's quite sturdy."
"And what happened to your hands?" She grabbed my right hand off the steering wheel, tsked over the state of my fingernails. "We must schedule an appointment for a manicure. This won't do."
I tugged back my hand. "Actually, I like it just fine the way it is."
My mother's eyes widened. "Oh no."
"What?" Riley leaned forward.
Fear tinged my mother's voice. "She's regressing."
"Re-what?"
"Regressing," I said. "Maybe if you paid attention in English class, you'd know what it meant."
"Like you did in tenth grade?" he threw back.
Touché. I'd had Brickhouse Krauss for tenth grade English. "Maybe I'll see if Mrs. Krauss is interested in a little tutoring."
Riley's eyes widened in fear. "You wouldn't."
I waggled my eyebrows. "Geese and gander, kid." I'd used a cliché and actually didn't mind! Maybe my selfdiscovery had been beneficial after all. I'd learned to finally accept my little quirks and oddball traits.
"What's that mean?" he asked.
Suddenly feeling old, I sighed.
"Stop torturing the poor boy, chérie. And despite how much you're trying to detour from it, I'm not going to forget the original subject."
Damn, I thought, as she said, "By regressing, I meant that she's acting as she used to, going back to the way she was."
"Good," Riley said. "I liked her better the old way. Except for the hair. The hair is much better now."
I almost forgave him for ratting Ana out.
My mother sighed heavily. "I should have known it wouldn't last."
"You still have Maria," I told her.
"This is true."
I turned down Buzz's street. Riley and I had gone over all the details, all the scenarios. He was well-prepared, and I knew from experience he was a great liar. He shouldn't have any trouble at all.
Buzz, aka Ralph Insprucker, lived in a newer development not even a half mile from St. Blaise. It was just about four o'clock. Any minute now his elementary school kids would be on their way home. I was hoping an out of work dad would, at the very least, meet his kids at the sidewalk.
Church bells tolled. We watched in silence as kids ran down the sidewalks, backpacks thumping their spines. Had I ever been so eager to go home from school? Maybe. In tenth grade.
A pair of children, two girls, skipped up Buzz's front walk, pulled open the door and disappeared inside.
So much for being Father of the Year.
Shifting in my seat, I thought aloud. "Okay, plan B."
"Plan B never works," Riley said.
"You've done this before?" my mother asked.
"Maybe once or twice," I murmured. "And this time it will work."
My mother tsked at me. There goes my Stepmother of the Year award.
"You know what to do," I said to Riley.
He hopped out of the truck, crossed the street without looking both ways (Grr), walked up Buzz's front walk and knocked on the door.
My mother's nose pressed against the glass. "This isn't safe."
"It's perfectly safe."
"What if this man is a pedophile?"
Now I knew where I'd gotten my worry-wart genes. "Riley's not going inside."
"How do you know?"
"Because I told him not to."
"Pah. As if he always listens to you."
All right. She had a point there. A knot formed in my stomach as the younger girl who'd gone skipping up the walkway appeared in the doorway, held up a wait-a-minute finger to Riley.
"He'll follow the plan." Now I was trying to reassure myself as much as her.
"Who came up with this plan?" Little clouds of condensation formed on her window as she spoke.
"I did." Buzz filled the doorway. "There he is."
My mother sat up, her hand on the door handle as if ready to jump out and save Riley at a moment's notice. Then I noticed my hand on my door handle and made myself relax.
I'd been hanging around my mother too much.
As if I were a play-by-play announcer, I said, "Right now Riley's telling Buzz that his car broke down around the corner and could he please use Buzz's cell phone to call for help."
"Won't Ralph question why he didn't walk over to the gas station?" She pointed to the Shell down the road.
"Does Buzz seem like the sharpest tool in the shed to you?"
"You've a good point, chérie."
Buzz motioned Riley inside. I heard my mother's breath catch.
Okay, mine did too—until Riley shook his head. "Now Riley's telling him that he's not allo
wed to enter people's houses, and could he just use his cell phone."
It must have worked, because Buzz unclipped a phone from his waistband and handed it out the door. He watched Riley like a hawk.
"Riley's the only one I know who can figure out how to retrieve the number that called him on Tuesday around four, and he's sneaky enough to do it without Buzz knowing it."
Riley turned his back to Ralph. Within a second he'd returned the phone and strode down the walkway and up the street.
Buzz looked after him for a minute but didn't follow.
I reversed the truck, turned around in someone's driveway.
"What are you hoping to accomplish with this phone number?"
"I'm not sure," I said. "It's just a hunch."
"A hunch about what?"
"Murder."
There'd been no time to do much with the phone number Riley had gotten except to jot it down and tuck it in my plastic Kroger bag.
I'd hoped the number would have an accompanying name, but Riley hadn't found one.
He'd made plans to sleep at a friend's house, and I dropped him and my mother off at my place before doing a quick change into workout clothes. I hotfooted it to the gym.
If there was one place I didn't want to be, it was on Duke's hit list.
Huffing, I made it inside with one minute to spare. Duke waited just inside the door. He made a show of eyeing the clock but didn't say anything as he turned. I followed.
The gym was packed for five-thirty on a Friday night. Every machine was taken, and I was heartened to see people struggling just like I had. Maybe there was hope for me yet.
"There's no hope for you," Duke said, stopping so abruptly I barreled into him.
"What?"
"With these traditional machines, or with conventional exercise. I've never seen a more pitiful performance as I did at the track the other morning."
"So . . . I fail?" Was I destined to have a stomach roll hanging over my jeans for the rest of my life?
He folded his arms, peered down at me. "Duke never fails. You, Ms. Quinn, do not have the patience, the motivation, or the discipline to stick to a regimented training program. Therefore, I suggest something a bit unconventional."
"Such as . . . ?"
"Fun."
"Fun?"
He pushed open a thick metal door. Inside, two groups of women stood on opposite sides of a high net, their gym shoes squeaking on a freshly waxed floor. Laughter filled the air as a ball flew across the net and ricocheted off several hands before being sent back over to the other side.
My cheeks rose as I smiled. "Volleyball!"
"You said you enjoyed playing it as a teenager."
I hugged him. He didn't hug back.
He tossed me a bag with elbow and knee pads, and sat at the end of a bleacher. "Give it a go."
The group gave me a rowdy welcome. I played two sets, trying to remember the nuances of the game. I was terrible but had a blast.
Afterward, dripping sweat, I walked over to Duke. He sat like Buddha amidst the chaos.
He said, "You'll hurt tomorrow. Sunday too. Rest and let your muscles heal. Come Monday, meet me back here, other side of the hallway. Indoor soccer."
I smiled wide. "I love soccer!"
He nodded. "They're going to eat you alive. After that, you can decide which you like better, and we'll get you on a team."
I didn't dare hug him again. "Thanks, Duke. You're not so bad after all."
Sternly, he said, "Don't let it get around."
Twenty-Four
The front door slammed open, and Kit nearly toppled off the ladder. I held it steady as BeBe leapt to her feet to greet Ana.
"Big news, big news," she said, tossing a Macy's shopping bag at me.
"What?" I asked, peeking inside.
She danced around the living room. "Remember the news Carson had to share with me? He's joining Inside Edition as a roving correspondent. He's going national!" She sang this last part and did a two-step with BeBe, who stood on her hind legs.
BeBe's tongue lolled out in sheer delight.
"There's a party tonight to celebrate." She let go of BeBe, perched on the back of the sofa. Her short skirt showed off her great legs. A sequined top shimmered beneath a velvet blazer. "You're both invited as my guests!"
Kit continued to plaster my ceiling. "No thanks."
"Oh, come on." Her voice held a joy I hadn't heard in a long time. "You could use a night out."
"Nope. Thanks." He balanced precariously. "I'm good here."
She wouldn't let up. "With some goop and a trowel?"
"All the excitement I need." He smoothed the mud along the ceiling, feathered it out.
Kit still wasn't interested in talking about Daisy. I wondered exactly what she was up to at Heavenly Hope Holistic Healing that was so dangerous.
There was nothing I could say or do to get him to spill. So, he had listened while I told him all about Pippi, Minnie, Mac, and Bobby.
He'd muttered something about getting his own place as soon as possible. I wished he wouldn't—I kind of liked having him around, and not just because he knew how to fix things.
I thought maybe it was the mama hen in me. Here, I could keep an eye on him, protect him from whatever danger Daisy presented.
"Okay, then, you!"
Ana pointed to me as I pulled a new handbag out of the Macy's bag. "Me?" I held up her gift. "This is cute." It was a black leather Fossil bag, half tote, half purse. As Goldilocks was wont to say, it was just right. "Thank you."
"No problem. And yes, you. Now, go get dressed."
I hedged. "I'm not really in the mood for a party." Truth be told, I was exhausted. I'd forgotten how tiring volleyball could be. Besides, I still had to figure out what to do with that phone number. I wished I could just hand it over to Kevin, but there was no way to reach him. The Cincinnati detectives would probably think I was just as crazy as Sherry Cochran.
Ana blinked her big brown eyes at me, stuck out her bottom lip and let it quiver.
BeBe took this as an invitation. She jumped up and lathered her face with doggy kisses.
She laughed.
Okay, she was in a really good mood.
"It'll be fun, Nina." Holding BeBe at bay, she did the lip thing again.
"All right, all right. Just put that lip away before BeBe falls in love."
I rushed upstairs to change into some of the clothes Perry had picked out for me. I chose black slacks, a satin tank top, and a beautiful teal jacket. I slipped on black high-heeled boots, zipped them up, and wobbled into the bathroom. It took me ten minutes to put on my makeup, five to slick my hair back into the evening 'do Perry had taught me.
I nearly tripped as I walked down the stairs. "Well?" I said.
Kit wobbled on the ladder. "Holy mother."
Ana's jaw dropped. "Okay, you can't go."
"What? Why?"
"Carson's going to take one look at you and forget all about me."
"Stop!"
"Okay, maybe not, but only because it's me. Anyone else he'd dump in a heartbeat."
"There's nothing like a humble woman," Kit intoned sarcastically from atop the ladder.
Ana stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't make me come up there and spackle your lips closed."
His eyebrow lifted. "I dare you."
Ana jumped to her feet. She had no problem walking in three-inch heels. "If I weren't all gussied up . . . "
"All talk." Kit smiled as he slathered.
I barely made it down the stairs without breaking an ankle. "All right, all right, you two. That's enough. What time is this party?"
"Nine."
"But it's ten now."
Ana dumped the contents of my Kroger sack into my new handbag. "You've so much to learn."
"Oh no! I'm done learning for now. I've had enough of that this past week to last me until the end of the year at least."
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