She turned away. She was done wasting her time. “My mistake.”
“I, I don’t think I know anything that would help. Except . . .”
Hope stopped and looked over her shoulder, unsure whether to trust Iva wasn’t about to unleash more snarkiness.
“Except what?”
“Mr. Whitcomb spent a lot of time here.”
“They were in business together. It’s reasonable they had meetings.”
Iva rolled her eyes. “In the bedroom?”
“What?” Hope turned completely around to face Iva.
“For a smart businessman, he was cheap and careless.” Iva busied herself by smoothing down the bed comforter. “Do you see how he dresses? He looks like a slob. Anyway, one morning I found his wallet on the floor right over there.” She gestured to the side of the bed.
“How do you know it was his?”
“I didn’t look inside, if that’s what you’re asking. I just recognized it because I’d seen it at his house. I clean there, too.”
“Did you clean for Vanessa Jordan?”
Iva shook her head. “Never.”
Hope considered what Iva said as she made her way back to the living room. Peaches and Lionel were having an affair. Did Elaine know? She probably was used to being the “other woman,” but how did she feel about being the betrayed wife? Would she have murdered Peaches? But what could her motive for killing Vanessa have been? Or did Lionel kill Peaches? Maybe Peaches was threatening to make trouble for him. But why kill Vanessa?
Hope needed to review Vanessa’s résumé. Maybe there was something in her past that connected her to Peaches and explained how their murders were connected.
“Can we go now?” Claire had settled on the sofa with a magazine.
“Yes.” Hope continued past her sister to the front door. She opened the door and found Ethan on the doorstep. At first she was startled by his unexpected presence, but once that passed, her heart fluttered for a moment. All six feet of him filled the doorway, and his gaze was fixed on Hope. Though, his visit probably wasn’t social.
“What are you doing here?” he asked in a suspicious tone.
Hope bit her lower lip. Darn. She had two options. The first option was to tell him the truth, which guaranteed a lecture on how she should stay out of police business. Option number two was to tell him the tiniest white lie, almost microscopic, really. Not wanting a lecture, she went with the latter.
“I’m looking for a rental. My current residence isn’t working for me anymore.”
“This isn’t funny,” Ethan warned.
“I know. Trust me, I know.” She had the bruises to prove how much she was aware that what she was doing wasn’t a game. “We have to go.” Hope gestured for Claire to follow her. They walked past Ethan to Claire’s car.
“If Reid finds out you were here, he’ll arrest you.” Ethan followed them to Claire’s car.
“Looking at houses isn’t a crime,” Hope replied.
“Interfering in an ongoing criminal investigation is.”
Hope flashed a smile. “Then it’s a good thing I was just looking at a house, right?” She dashed around the passenger side and slid onto the seat.
“Was that a lovers’ spat?” Claire asked in a whisper when she opened the driver’s side door.
“Get in.” Hope just wanted to go home, soak in a hot tub of water because her body ached, and then dig into Vanessa’s past. She was certain there was a connection between the two murder victims. She just had to find it.
* * *
Hope waved to Drew as he bustled into the kitchen with a large pizza box. He’d called earlier to say he would stop to pick up dinner and come over. Not having to cook sounded like heaven to Hope. Even though her blog revolved mostly around what she cooked, a night off every now and then was welcomed. After returning home earlier, she’d soaked her aching body in a hot tub to ease away the day she’d had. She went to a funeral, helped a woman pack up her dead sister’s belongings, and searched through the drawers of another dead woman.
When she’d climbed out of the tub, she’d dried off and dressed to finish painting the rest of the dining room while she waited for Drew. Her cleanup was interrupted by a telephone call from Corey Lucas.
“You haven’t returned any of my calls,” Corey said in an exaggerated whiny voice.
Hope cradled her cordless phone as she washed her hands and Drew set the pizza box on the island. After drying her hands, she gestured to Drew to get the plates out of the cabinets. She was starving.
“Some things have been happening here.”
“I heard about your car accident. Are you okay?”
Hope filled him in on her minor injuries and lingering soreness. For some odd reason, he seemed interested in the details. She paused and wondered what he was really up to. Corey didn’t like details because of his short attention span, which was what made him a perfect fit for reality television.
“Good that you weren’t seriously hurt. Now, for the reason why I’ve called you so many times. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”
Drew set the table and moved the pizza box over there. Next up was the beverages, and he pulled out two bottles of beer from her refrigerator.
“A heads-up about what?” Hope walked to the table. She needed to end the call soon because there was a slice of pizza, heavy on the vegetables, calling her name. Drew lifted up the top of the box, and the aroma of melted cheese, sauce, and vegetables wafted up to her. Time to say bye-bye to Corey.
“A reality show . . .”
Hope sighed. No wonder he listened to all the details about her accident. He had an agenda. “Corey, I told you I don’t want to do another reality show.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. This isn’t about you. There’s a new show about to begin taping called Life After the Big D.”
“Life After the Big D? What’s it about?”
“Rebuilding your life after a divorce.”
“Divorce? Gosh, is there nothing off limits for a reality show?”
“No, not really. Look, I thought you should know Tim signed on to do the show.”
“What?”
Hope straightened up and for a moment she saw red as a wave of anger flashed through her. She was speechless, and perhaps that was for the best because the words that immediately came to mind weren’t polite.
“Hope? Are you still there?” Corey asked.
“I’m here,” Hope said eventually, when she was certain her voice wouldn’t crack. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn’t want to cry, and she didn’t want Corey to know she was about to cry. She was done crying over Tim.
“The show is going to follow him around as he begins dating again, you know, finding love again . . .”
Hope dropped down onto the chair as Corey’s words were muffled. Her mind raced with thoughts of betrayal, anger, and vengeance. How could Tim do such a thing? Appear on a national television show and air their dirty laundry. Her jaw clenched. Like he had to rebuild his life after their divorce. She was the one who lost the condo, she was the one who was unemployed when the divorce papers were served, and she was the one who was cheated on.
“Are you serious? He’s really going to do that? Why would you sign him?” she asked when she snapped out of her thoughts.
“Whoa, it’s not my production. The show belongs to Neptune. It’s an Alan Snyder show. I’ve gotta run. Just thought you should know.”
“Thanks.” Hope disconnected the call. “I think.”
“Ah, honey. Tim is cashing in on his fifteen minutes of fame. Life After the Big D follows seven New Yorkers as they reenter the dating world as newly divorced and search for their one true love,” Drew said.
“What?” Hope looked up.
“I Googled it.” He held up his phone so Hope could see his screen.
Of course he did. Ever the reporter. He could find out anything. All he needed was his cell phone and a search engine.
“Ugh,” Hope pushed away the dis
h in front of her. Her appetite was gone.
“Hey, there,” Drew pulled his chair closer to Hope. He lifted a slice of pizza out of the box and plopped it on the plate and pushed it in front of her.
“No, I can’t eat anything now.”
“You have to eat. Or you’ll leave me no choice but to call Jane and you’ll be drinking chamomile tea in no time.”
Hope eyed Drew carefully. He wasn’t bluffing. He would call Jane. And Jane would make a pot of tea. She reached for the slice of pizza and took a bite.
“That’s my girl.” Drew gave a triumphant smile.
Hope chewed and swallowed. “Do you think Tim is going to talk about me? About us?”
“Absolutely. It’s the only way he can stay relevant.”
Hope believed the old saying of honesty was the best policy, but once in a while she would prefer Drew not be so honest. A little white lie would have gone a long way at that moment, because there was a sliver of hope Tim wouldn’t overshare about their marriage on television. Sure, it was the teeniest, tiniest sliver of hope, but she needed to hold on to that, and it would have been nice to hear Drew say that.
“Enough about your lousy ex.” Drew reached for a slice of pizza. He selected the largest slice with the thickest crust.
“You’re right. There’s nothing I can do about Tim and his decision to do a reality show.”
“Claire called on my way over here and told me Ethan showed up at Peaches’ house. When you and I talked earlier, you left that part out.”
Hope shrugged. “It was no big deal. He was just there to lecture me. Again.”
“He’s worried about you.”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“Why are you fighting this?” Drew took a bite of pizza.
“Because Detective Reid seems to be hyperfocused on pinning the murders on Claire.”
Drew wiped his mouth with a napkin then took a drink of beer. “I’m not talking about the murders. I’m talking about you and Ethan.”
Hope opened her mouth to protest. She didn’t know how many times she needed to remind those close to her she wasn’t ready to date or look for a new relationship. She also doubted Ethan was looking for a relationship, either. They were two divorcees with enough baggage to fill a minivan. He had his own divorce drama to recover from and two young children to focus on.
Maybe a little bit of honesty would help Drew understand she simply wasn’t ready to date again. “My heart is broken.”
The biggest smile Hope ever saw covered Drew’s face. Not exactly what she expected after sharing her pain.
So much for honesty. “That makes you happy?”
Drew tilted his head sideways and sighed. “Don’t you know yet?”
“Know what?”
“That you’re on the mend. I can see it. We can all see it.”
“I don’t understand.”
Drew thumped his palm against his forehead. “Duh. The way you look at Ethan says it all. You’re falling in love with him.”
“You’re crazy.” Hope took another bite of pizza and chewed. Drew was wrong. She wasn’t falling in love with Ethan. She was in love with Ethan, which scared her more than the murderer trying to kill her.
Chapter Twenty-three
The commercial break was over and Hope was back on the air with Morning Pete. His crew was especially lively. Maybe it was because spring was finally in the air or they were overcaffeinated. Whatever the reason, Hope had an uneasy feeling in her stomach each time she was back live with them. Something bad was going to happen. She just knew it. She’d been popping in between their weather and traffic reports and blocks of music. She glanced at her watch. Just a few minutes left before she was off the air and her apple pie was out of the oven.
The fragrance of a high pile of apples baking with cinnamon and nutmeg in a buttery crust wafted through the kitchen. Hope’s mouth watered in anticipation of a heaping forkful of pie. But alas, the pie was not for her. It was for Ethan. A peace offering of sorts. A tasty way to say, “I’m sorry.”
“So, how does it work with your recipes?” Morning Pete prompted Hope out of her apple pie daydream.
“I thoroughly test each recipe I share on my blog. My readers depend upon that. They expect to be able to prepare the recipes in their own kitchens.”
“These days, recipe testing seems to be taking a backseat to your new hobby,” Morning Pete said.
Hope paused for a moment. There it was. The something bad that was going to happen.
She wasn’t sure where Morning Pete was going, but she had a good idea of what he was hinting at.
“Recipe testing never takes a backseat.” She smiled. Even though she knew the radio host, his crew, and their listeners couldn’t see her, they could hear her smile. It was a trick a friend of hers taught her years ago, a little piece of experience she’d picked up working her way through college as a customer-service representative. “Let them hear you smile,” she often said. Maybe not reacting would deter Morning Pete from going any further with whatever he was planning on doing.
“You’ve found two dead bodies. What’s going on in your quaint little town?” He chuckled loudly. In the background, Hope heard his crew join in the laughter.
Her plan to thwart his plan hadn’t worked. He clearly didn’t “see” her smile.
“Sources say you’re an integral part of the murder investigations.” Cindy Dee was Morning Pete’s sidekick and provided the estrogen to the program.
Hope looked at her watch again. Why did it feel like time had stalled?
“How does a blogger shift gears to become an amateur sleuth?” Cindy Dee asked.
Hope was determined not to react to the questions. She was there to promote her blog, not discuss the murders in town. She glanced at her watch. The second hand barely moved.
“Is it true your sister is a murder suspect?” Morning Pete asked.
“It’s person of interest,” Uncle Gio corrected. He was the morning program’s resident prankster and thorn in Morning Pete’s side.
Hope shook her head. She was done with the circus freak show. The handful of new readers weren’t worth suffering the fools of morning radio. “I’m not here to discuss the murders of two women, one of whom was my assistant and my friend. And, for the record, my sister had nothing to do with either murder. And to be clear, I am not an integral part of the investigation. Thank you for having me on. It’s been a pleasure.” Her final sign-off was far from pleasant. But it felt good.
She clicked off the phone and dropped it on the table. Never again would she be a guest on that show. She needed to be more choosy in the future when promotional opportunities presented themselves.
A few moments passed, allowing her to reflect on her final appearance on Morning Pete’s show. It wasn’t the sign-off she’d hoped for. She’d practically told him off and hung up on him and his audience. In hindsight, she could see how her spontaneous reaction wasn’t a good one. Maybe nobody really noticed. People were busy in the morning, getting ready for work, making breakfast, getting the kids up, and they probably weren’t really that wide awake. Yeah, they probably didn’t even notice Hope lost her cool.
The back door opened and she looked over her shoulder. Ethan entered and relief flooded her. Her rock was there, but could she lean on him after how badly she treated him the day before?
“Hey, good morning.” Ethan walked over to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t appear to be holding a grudge. “I heard you on the radio. Your segment ended rather abruptly.”
Hope shrugged. There wasn’t anything she could do about it at that point. She didn’t want to talk about the radio show or how every person in the state and Rhode Island now knew her sister was a suspect in two murders. Good going, Hope.
“He was just doing his job. It’s all about ratings for guys like him.”
Hope nodded. “Yeah, ratings.” She twirled the telephone handset, staring intently on the mindless ta
sk.
Ethan sat across from Hope, set his mug on the table and rested his arms on the table. “Talk to me.”
Hope looked up. Ethan watched her with an intensity that made her heart beat a little faster. Could she get away with not admitting how she really felt about him? Would he be able to tell she was keeping a secret? It was a risk she had to take. Saying her feelings out loud would only complicate things. Keeping the secret was the best thing for both of their sakes.
“I found out last night Tim signed on to do a reality show about life after divorce and finding true love.”
“Ouch.”
“I guess I should lower my expectations of how low Tim will sink to hurt me. I kind of feel sorry for him.”
“Why?”
“I went on The Sweet Taste of Success to pursue a passion, a dream, and he’s doing his show to find love. The sad fact is the reality TV machine will chew him up and spit him out and he’ll be alone at the end. The show has no intention of finding him a happily ever after.”
“Have you found yours?” Ethan took a drink of his coffee.
As Hope opened her mouth to reply, the oven timer beeped and she had a reason not to answer. Thankfully. “I do owe you an apology for my behavior yesterday.”
“Is there something that goes with the apology?” He made an exaggerated sniffing motion.
Hope laughed as she stood and walked over to the double ovens. “I was going to bring this by later.” She opened the bottom oven door. She reached in and pulled out a hot, bubbling pie and swiftly set it on the cooling rack.
Ethan shifted in his seat, twisting around to look at her and the pie. “Thank you for the apology. The pie isn’t necessary, but I’ll take it anyway.”
“I behaved poorly yesterday. I was rude. To be honest, I didn’t want another lecture about investigating on my own.”
“That’s what you should be with me all the time—honest.” He shifted his gaze to the coffee mug and took a drink.
The word stung Hope. Honesty was important to Ethan. His ex-wife was far from honest. She lied to him, she cheated on him, and she broke his heart. Even though Hope had the best of intentions and she was doing the right thing for her family, she had been deceptive.
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