The Killer Christmas Sweater Club
Page 21
“We? You and your home-town deputy?”
“Actually, he’s the acting chief, and he only wants to find the truth. As do I.”
Giselle shook her head and sneered at him. “How noble, Ricky.”
“I didn’t come here to talk about the case. This is about you and me and Alex. I made a huge mistake in not divorcing you years ago. And whatever happens, I can assure you I will fight to keep sole custody.”
Giselle’s jaw dropped slightly, then her lips formed a thin line and she glared at Rick. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’ve been looking for the right time to sever my ties with the past and I never found it. That’s because—as a wise friend of mine recently said—there never is a good time to do some things. Let me assure you I won’t stop trying to clear you of the murder charge, but I’d like you to sign a settlement agreement. Deputy Cunningham will be arriving soon with those papers.”
“You really do know how to drive the knife in deep, Ricky.”
“Or maybe I’ve just realized how much energy I’ve wasted treading water. It’s time for us to both move forward.”
“How can I move forward with this thing hanging over my head?”
“I intend to clear you—unless you really are guilty.”
“I did not kill that reprehensible man.”
“I believe you,” he said. “There has to be a way to prove it. What did you touch while you were in Thorne’s office?”
Her brow furrowed, then she shook her head. “Nothing.”
“You had to touch something.”
“I don’t know. He poured a couple of glasses of wine. I took one sip and put it on the desk. He must have taken that as the signal to make his move because he started getting all handsy. I told him that where I came from reputable attorneys did not have relationships with their clients.”
Rick clenched his jaw as he bit back his years of frustration. Where he came from, wives were faithful to their husbands. Mothers helped raise their daughters. He took a long breath and asked, “Was that an attempt to leave him hanging?”
Giselle glared at him. “I hate you, Ricky.”
“And I know you,” he snapped. “What happened next?”
“I pushed him away, but he wouldn’t stop. So I slapped him and left.”
“So you realized you couldn’t control him?”
“My God, how you must hate me.”
“Answer my question, Giselle.”
“He was an awful man. He didn’t care about anyone but himself.”
Rick took a long, slow breath. He wanted to feel empathy for Giselle, but he could summon none. If it weren’t for Alex, he could easily walk out the door and not look back.
Giselle’s eyes brimmed with tears; her lower lip trembled. “The man broke my trust in him as my attorney! What do you want from me, Ricky?”
“That’s the wrong question, Giselle. The right one is what do you want from me? You and I have nothing left. I certainly don’t believe you want to take on the role of doting mother, either. So what is it? Money?”
Giselle bit her lower lip. She seemed fascinated by the circle of light the brass desk lamp cast on the floor. “Edward broke up with me.”
Rick leaned back in the chair. “Why?”
She closed her eyes and whispered, “I made a mistake.”
“Is he kicking you out of your apartment?”
She nodded.
“How long do you have?”
“The rent is paid for a few months.”
“Well, here’s the bad news. I have no money to give you. The only asset I have is the B&B and that’s mortgaged to the hilt thanks to my grandfather. So if you’re expecting something from me, good luck. And don’t think you can use Alex as a bargaining chip. It won’t work.”
Giselle winced and her eyes brimmed with tears as she averted her gaze. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I can’t tell you how to run your life. I’m busy trying to run mine and raise our daughter. There’s nothing more for us to talk about unless you’ve got something you can tell me about Friday night that might help.” Rick paused and shook his head. “Wait, I want to confirm something. When you were with Thorne at his house, how did the place look?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “I don’t understand.”
“I mean, did it look like this?” He pulled out his phone, brought up one of the photos he’d taken of the mess in Thorne’s office, and turned the display in her direction.
Her eyes widened as she stared at the screen, then shook her head and muttered, “No.”
That was good enough for Rick. Whatever Giselle was, she was not a killer. Now he just had to prove it. A knock on the door broke the silence in the room. Rick took a deep breath and locked his gaze onto Giselle’s.
“That will be Deputy Cunningham.”
CHAPTER 52
ALEX
December 22
Hey Journal,
I can’t sleep. Marquetta’s staying here tonight. She just tucked me in and said it was time for lights out, so I’m writing this using my phone’s flashlight. I pretended to be sleepy, but I can’t stop thinking about everything. I still haven’t gotten them together under the mistletoe and there’s only a few days left until Christmas.
Daddy got home late for dinner, but me and Marquetta kept it warm for him. He said he totally had a bad day.
We just had a little thunder. Do you think that’s a sign, Journal? Maybe, huh? Maybe the thunder’s keeping me awake on purpose? It could be ‘cause Daddy put all his trust in me and dealt with my mom so I wouldn’t have to, but I haven’t done the same thing.
I still didn’t tell him everything about my talk with Miss Potok. Marquetta said we should be telling Daddy everything we know. What do you think, Journal? When Marquetta gave you to me, she said writing down my thoughts would be the best way to make everything clear. And you know what? She’s right. I get it. Whether I get in trouble or not, Daddy deserves to know the whole story.
I’m gonna tell him. Right now.
xoxo
Alex
I put my journal back on my little white desk and turn on the lamp. Even looking around my room doesn’t make me feel better. I totally love the colors ‘cause they make me happy, but right now I won’t be happy until I tell Daddy the truth.
I pull my robe tighter around me as I close the door to my room. There’s no light on in Daddy’s office. I’m too late. Now I’m gonna have to think about this all night. I hate that I didn’t tell him sooner. It’s quiet out here in the hallway except for some more thunder. When I close my eyes, it’s like the house is sleeping and the thunder is the house snoring. It’s not very loud, but it’s kinda comforting. Like it could be telling me to talk to Daddy about Miss Potok.
But there’s another noise, too. It’s so faint I can barely hear it. And it’s coming from downstairs. I don’t know what it is. I creep down the hall to the stairway and see that the lights from the tree are still on. I thought Daddy turned them off.
At the bottom of the stairs, I peek around the corner and see Daddy sitting alone by the train set and Weissville. He looks so sad.
I take a deep breath and step toward him.
“Daddy?”
CHAPTER 53
RICK
The lights of Weissville glowed in the darkness, augmented only by the twinkling white lights of the Christmas tree. It had been a long day. No. It had been a day long coming. At least for him and Giselle. After Adam had delivered the settlement papers to Giselle, Rick and Adam had spent time sharing notes about the murder. But so far, they both had more questions than answers.
When Alex called his name, Rick jumped. “Hey, kiddo,” he whispered. “You startled me. Come here.” He patted his lap, then grunted playfully when she sat. “It won’t be long before you’re too big for this.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and tightened her grip around his neck.”How come you’re sitting here in the dark?”
Alex pointed at a white delivery vehicle making a turn onto Weissville’s one crossroad. “Mr. Van Horn said that’s an old milk truck. Did they really deliver milk in a truck?”
“It was prior to my time, but that’s what I understand.”
Her smile lit up and the lights reflected in her eyes. She leaned into Rick to snuggle closer. “I always want to be able to do this.”
Rick kissed her forehead. “I know. Me, too. So why are you still up?”
“I have a lot of stuff on my mind.”
“I see.” Rick gave Alex’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear that. Anything I can help with?”
“I still wanna write for the Cove Talkers newsletter, Daddy.”
Rick let out a long breath as he realized he could not stop her from doing everything he thought was a bad idea. She had to live her life. “Okay, kiddo. But you have to let me review what you’re sending in.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Journalists always have an editor. That’s what I’ll be, your editor.”
Alex shifted position, then nodded. “Okay.” A few seconds later, she said, “I also have to tell you about Miss Potok.”
“You told me you talked to her, Alex. It’s okay. She’s a guest and we have to be respectful. I don’t want you getting friendly with her. That’s all.”
“It might be too late.” Alex pulled away and took a deep breath. “When I was putting out the cookies? It was kinda like she needed a friend ‘cause she asked me what I was doing and then helped make room for the tray.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, kiddo.”
“She said she heard my mom was in town.”
Rick gritted his teeth. Was Reese trying to manipulate Alex? “What else?”
“I told her I didn’t know what my mom wanted and she said I should ask her ‘cause that would get rid of the uncertainty. And then she said she wasn’t sure if she was still gonna have a job now that Mr. Waldorf was dead.”
“Is that what she actually said? She wouldn’t have a job?”
Alex’s brow creased and she nodded. “Kinda. She said she might lose her job ‘cause the company might cut back on what they were doing in Seaside Cove.”
Rick shifted in his chair and gave Alex’s shoulder another squeeze. “Thank you for telling me. Like I said before. You’ve done nothing wrong. Hey, do you remember when we first got here? You were so worried about being accepted at school.”
“But the kids were super cool and I made friends right away.”
“Exactly. Miss Potok hasn’t tried to make friends here, and from what I’ve learned, Thorne—Mr. Waldorf—was the same way. It’s a question of which one could be more ruthless, and that could mean Reese didn’t have as much power as she led everyone to believe.”
“But Daddy… Wasn’t Mr. Waldorf working for her? Like he was for my mom?”
“You’re right, kiddo. Reese has always acted like she was the one in charge.”
“So?”
Rick inspected the buildings of the little town. Was that the motive behind Thorne’s murder? He’d gotten greedy and tried to take control of Reese’s project?
“Daddy?”
“Just thinking, kiddo. The only reason Reese would lose her job would be if she couldn’t deliver the San Manuel as she’d promised—or if Thorne was trying to cut her out. You know, I think we might have to invite her to the open house.”
“But you don’t like her, Daddy. Why would you want to do that?”
“Well, all the guests should be invited. We’ve told them about it, but we haven’t issued a formal invitation. If we’re really going to open our hearts for Christmas, why wouldn’t we invite all of our guests?”
“It would be awesome. I’m totally sure they’d love it.”
“I do have another question for you, kiddo. What do you want to do about your mom? You said Miss Potok recommended you talk to her. Is that still what you want to do?”
Alex nodded and took a deep breath. “I wanna tell her face-to-face that I totally belong here with you. Seaside Cove is my home, and I don’t want it to change.”
“Do you want me to arrange this for you? And when?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Okay. I can text her tonight.”
“No, Daddy. I wanna do it. Give me her number, and I’ll text her.”
The lights of the tree blurred and Rick’s heart felt a little ache. “My little girl is growing up,” he said as he hugged Alex. “I’m not sure I like it.”
“I’ll always be your little girl, Daddy. Always.”
They sat quietly watching the lights, and slowly Alex’s shoulders drooped. When she slumped further into Rick, he asked her if she was getting sleepy. She nodded, so he carried her upstairs to her bed.
As Alex snuggled down, she whispered in a dreamy voice. “You know what I like most about Weissville, Daddy?”
“What’s that, kiddo?”
“All the buildings are different. There are no two alike. It would be an awesome place to live.”
“You’re right, kiddo. It would be awesome.” He fluffed the covers over her and kissed her goodnight.
She muttered, “Daddy? Would you text my mom for me?”
“Of course.” He waited in the darkness until her breathing was soft and low. Then, he went to his office and texted Giselle. After that, he began looking through the photos from Thorne’s home.
The following morning, Rick was up at four-thirty and down in the kitchen waiting for Marquetta when she came downstairs. She walked through the door, took one look at him and shook her head.
“You look terrible, boss. Have you been up all night again?”
“Practically. I think I fell asleep sometime around two.”
“So you got a total of two hours sleep?”
“Roughly. But I feel great. I think I know who killed Thorne Waldorf.” He slid two photos across the counter. “Take a look at those.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Something different.”
Marquetta huffed, but approached the counter and scrutinized the two photos. “They’re almost the same. This one’s taken from a slightly different angle. The light was obviously different.”
“Check out the second shelf.”
“I wish you’d give me a hint as to what you expect me to find.”
“How about a tool?” Rick smiled and handed Marquetta a magnifying glass.
She rolled her eyes and bent over one photo, inspected it closely, then moved to the other. “Oh my God.”
“Congratulations, you are the second person to know who really got that last sweater.”
CHAPTER 54
ALEX
Daddy texted my mom for me last night. He said she’ll be here at ten. I have my bed made and everything’s neat. I’ve got my journal in the top drawer of my desk. When Daddy asked where I wanted to meet with her, I told him it had to be in my room. It can’t be anywhere else ‘cause once she sees how nice this is, she’ll see why I belong here.
There’s a soft knock on the door, and I wonder if this was a mistake. But it’s too late now. I sit down on the edge of the bed and look at the photo Daddy gave me a long time ago. It’s been in my drawer like forever and this is the first time I’ve looked at it in a super long time. I take a deep breath. “Come in.”
The door opens a little bit and a lady with red hair pokes her head inside. She looks just like the lady in the picture. She’s wearing an expensive-looking blouse, tight jeans, and high heels. She’s totally overdressed for Seaside Cove. And she looks nervous.
“Alex?”
I nod. Swallow. My mouth is dry. This is a lot harder than I thought it was gonna be.
“I’m your mother.”
“I know.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yes.” My voice sounds like the old creaky floorboards in t
he attic. I wish I hadn’t told Daddy I’d do this.
“Don’t I get a hug?”
I stand, but my arms feel like they’re glued to my sides. She pushes the fancy handbag that’s hanging from her shoulder to one side and takes a couple steps toward me. When she puts her arms around me, she squeezes me hard once. I put my arms around her waist, but there’s something missing. I don’t get the same feeling I do when Daddy or Marquetta hug me. Marquetta’s hug is soft and warm. Daddy’s is different, more like a dad-hug than a mom-hug. But this…
When she lets go and steps back, I point to the chair at my desk. “You can sit there.”
I cross my legs and sit on the bed facing her. She’s got pretty blue eyes, but she wears too much makeup. She totally looks like a movie star, but she doesn’t look like a mom. I think even New York moms don’t dress so fancy.
“What a quaint little room you have.”
“Me and Marquetta decorated it. She asked me what colors I liked, and when I told her she got all happy ‘cause those are her favorite colors, too. We went shopping in San Ladron for the bedspread and the accent pieces.”
The lady smiles. I can’t tell if she’s just being polite or if she’s sad.
“Did Marquetta help you buy the furniture, too?”
“No. It was hers from when she was little. It had been stored in the attic, and she had Mr. Van Horn help her bring it down.” I run my fingers over the bedspread and look around. “I love my room. It’s me.”
There’s a long wait while she chews on her lower lip. She’s getting red lipstick all over her teeth and it kinda makes her look like a vampire.
“Do you like Marquetta?”
“She’s the best. We do lots of stuff together. She’s teaching me how to cook and bake and we totally get along.”
The lady turns and looks at herself in the mirror. She pushes her hair to the side a little and then turns back to face me. “I haven’t been a very good mother, have I?”
I stare at her. How do I answer that? I’ve never had a real mom.
“You don’t have to respond. I already know the answer.” She reaches into her fancy handbag and pulls out an envelope.