Sky High (A Nicki Valentine Mystery Book 2)

by Susan O'Brien

  “We just weren’t the right match. You know when it’s right, and you know when it’s not. Our relationship had run its course.”

  That’s what Austin had hoped would happen with Mia and Bruce. I thought about how much Jason and I had learned about each other while dating…and how Dean’s time away had given him perspective. I needed to be patient. We didn’t need to talk about babies right away.

  After all, Mia and Bruce had rushed things, and she hadn’t known him well enough. He’d certainly had a lot to hide.

  Twenty-Two

  Technically, I slept with Dean. Truthfully, I had more personal contact with his couch than anything else.

  I blame it on football, but I fell asleep during the game, initially snuggled up to Dean and then closer and closer to the couch until I was horizontal.

  I had a vague memory of being asked if I needed to pick up the kids, telling Dean they were spending the night at Kenna’s, and being covered with a blanket.

  All of this was incredibly polite and so very wrong. Who wants to wake up on a hot guy’s couch with faded makeup, wrinkled clothes, bedhead, and morning breath after a Chinese food dinner? I’ll tell you who. Someone in her twenties.

  A grown woman writes a thank-you note on the restaurant receipt and gets the eff out of there. If she drove herself, which I hadn’t. Big problem.

  I scribbled a note about meeting later to interview Mia and took one last peek at Dean, adorable on the recliner with a plush, tasseled blanket up to his chin, blond hair spiked in odd places. I tiptoed to the bathroom and texted Kenna that I would love to be picked up ASAP if Andy could stay home with the kids for a teeny weeny bit.

  You already know where he lives, I emphasized.

  She texted back that she was on the way. It was seven a.m., and I had fifteen minutes to waste.

  I peeked out Dean’s front window and touched the glass to gauge the temperature. Friggin’ freezing. I wouldn’t be able to wait outside.

  I stepped back into the bathroom to de-smudge my eyeliner and finger-comb my hair. Then I tracked down my purse and made sure I wouldn’t trigger any alarms by sneaking out. Even if I set one off, it might be less disturbing than my appearance.

  Kenna pulled up, and I let myself out the front door, closing it so gently that the latch barely clicked. Then I dashed down the steps to the car, closing its door almost soundlessly.

  It was tempting to yell, “Go, go, go!” but I opted for “Hey” and didn’t look back.

  “What the heck?” Kenna said.

  “I didn’t plan to spend the night, and I didn’t have my stuff,” I said.

  “But you did spend the night?” She lifted her hand for a high five, and I left her hanging.

  “Don’t congratulate me,” I said. “I conked out and slept on the couch.”

  “Man,” she said, disappointed. “I thought this was going to be the most fascinating drive ever.”

  “I know.”

  “You had the night off. When’s the last time that happened? Were you really that tired?”

  I almost sensed she was disappointed in me, not the lack of sexy details.

  “I was that tired, but even if I hadn’t been, this is a really weird situation. I feel like I’m sixteen again. I’m worried about pregnancy, STDs, birth control, and all kinds of crap I haven’t had to think about in twenty years. And I don’t have a parent trying to talk me out of anything. I have a best friend who’s a free spirit, which I love, but this isn’t easy. I’m not easy.” I laughed at the double entendre.

  “I feel bad,” she said, glancing at me. “Honestly, I’ve been married for so long that I forgot what it was like. I want you to loosen up, but I don’t want you to be loose.” We both laughed. “And I sure as heck don’t want you to get pregnant. Jack and Sophie are all I can handle.”

  “Me too,” I said. “Were they okay last night?”

  “They were fine, but they get up early, especially Sophie.”

  “I know. Sorry.”

  “They’re fed and in front of the TV. Andy is barely coherent, so that was the best way to keep them safe.” I assured her it was fine and didn’t ask what they’d eaten. “Hey,” she added. “Do you have time to get coffee to go? I couldn’t make it this morning, and obviously neither could you.”

  “Sure,” I said. I’d have to drive the kids to school instead of making it to the bus stop, but Kenna deserved more than coffee for her help. “You have to let me pay, though, and I might need you to run in. I don’t want to be seen.”

  “Soy mocha latte?” she said.

  “You got it.”

  I’d need it for what was next.

  I got the kids off to school dressed appropriately (them not me), hoping I’d make it there and back without being recognized. I’d be lost without sunglasses and hats (as a mom more than as a PI). Then I parked in the privacy of our garage and entered through the kitchen, memories of Ginny’s entrance fresh in my mind.

  My next stops, in order, were my toothbrush, the refrigerator, the shower, and my bed, where I lay in my bathrobe, planning the day. I also texted Dean to let him know I’d left quietly because I didn’t want to wake him up. (I didn’t mention why I wanted his eyes closed.)

  Before getting much else done, the phone rang, and when I saw it was Mia, my stomach flipped. It was nine, just when Liz recommended calling her, but I wasn’t ready to talk, and I couldn’t let it go to voicemail.

  “Mia?” I answered.

  “Hi, Nicki,” she said, her voice flat. “You wanted to talk to me?”

  “Yeah. If that’s okay. I’m so sorry about Bruce, and I know Eli has been arrested, but Frank still wants us to look into every possibility…” I gave her space to protest, but she didn’t. “So I’d like to get a little input from you if you’re up for it, and from your parents, too.”

  “Can we do it over the phone?” she asked. “I’m hardly functioning. I assume Liz filled you in on our health situations.”

  “She did. Unless there’s been a change since yesterday.”

  “No. Lydia’s trying to get into a study that funds transplants with anonymous, pre-screened donors. Another hospital is running it.” Her tone brightened slightly, so I trudged on.

  “I really hope that works out,” I said. “Mia, other than what you’ve learned from Eli’s arrest, what do you know about Bruce’s time at Smyth College?”

  “Well, he was a marketing major who was incredible at promoting his frat. That’s where he met Todd.”

  I asked if she knew any of his other friends or acquaintances from that time—or anything else about challenges at Smyth.

  “No. But obviously you’re asking for a reason. What is it? Just tell me.”

  “Well, he may have been dating another student before he moved, and I wondered if he told you about anyone.”

  “Uh, no.”

  I closed my eyes, listening intently. There was a small exhale and a sniff.

  “Mia?” I asked. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Are you okay?” Ridiculous question. Of course she wasn’t.

  “No,” she choked out. “It’s just…I don’t know if I can talk about this.”

  It was too much for her. I felt awful. How could I have started this conversation?

  “I understand.”

  “No you don’t,” she said. “No one does.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There were signs. Now that he’s gone, and with what you just told me, I have to be honest with myself.”

  “About what?”

  “About Bruce. About how he…” Her breath shuddered. “…Was.”

  “Oh, Mia. What did he do?”

  “Nothing horrible. But the longer we were together, the more I worried about some of his behavior.”

 
“Like what?”

  She said at first they were inseparable, and he said he’d never felt like this before. He showered her with attention and gifts, and she celebrated with friends that she’d found “the one.” When he presented her with a 1.5 carat engagement ring four months into their relationship, she’d said “yes” right away.

  “But things started to change?” I asked.

  “Yes and no,” she said. “I started to worry that his love for me was too…much. Like the way he treated Austin, my old boyfriend. He was never okay with him.”

  “Tell me more about that,” I said.

  “He was jealous. He didn’t want me anywhere Austin could be, which I understood to a point. But on campus, sometimes I couldn’t help it. Plus, I wanted to stay on good terms with Austin. He’s a great guy.”

  “What would happen if you and Austin were in the same place?”

  “Bruce would stare daggers at him. If I even looked at Austin or texted him, I’d hear about it from Bruce.”

  “Hear about it how?”

  “I don’t know. Bruce would put me down. Say I was cheating on him.”

  “But you weren’t?”

  “Of course not.”

  “How would Bruce even know if you texted Austin?”

  “He’d check my phone.”

  “Did he do that a lot?”

  She paused. “I don’t know. I didn’t mind. I didn’t have anything to hide.”

  Hm. “Did Bruce ever get physical?”

  “He never hurt me, and he would always apologize for getting too angry and say it was just because he loved me so much. I thought it was my fault—that I really shouldn’t have been around Austin or stayed friends with him. It was hard to get over him, and that was obvious. I was relieved when we graduated and I didn’t have to deal with it anymore.”

  “Did things change when Austin was out of the picture?”

  “A little. Bruce and I moved to our condos, and he was busy with work, and I was busy with NUVA. He seemed happier, although his job was hard, like I told you. He was overworked and didn’t have enough time for planning our wedding.”

  “How much time did you get to spend together, since you were living apart?”

  “Every night, actually. He would come to my place for dinner or I’d make it at his place if he was home early enough. We’d stay over. He insisted on that, even though he knew about my commitment to NUVA’s standards. Our lives were pretty much work and each other. Occasionally we’d get together with a neighbor or something.”

  “I don’t mean to pry, but how did he feel about NUVA?”

  “He respected it. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t spend the night in the same place.”

  “I know,” I reassured her, thinking of my previous night with Dean. “When was the last time you talked with Austin?”

  “He texted me before the wedding and asked me to reconsider marrying Bruce. He didn’t like him, but overall he wished me well. He said he might show up, and I told him not to.”

  “Did you tell Bruce any of that? Or could he have checked your phone and found out?”

  “Oh my gosh, no. I didn’t tell Bruce anything. He could have looked at my phone, but I put a code on it and deleted my messages. I didn’t want to risk that.”

  “You said Austin didn’t like Bruce. How much did he dislike him?”

  “Not enough to hurt him, Nicki. Don’t think like that. I swear.”

  “I hear you. Did you tell anyone about Austin being in touch?”

  “I told my girlfriends at the bachelorette party, and I told the groomsmen the next day, because if they saw Austin anywhere near the wedding, I wanted him stopped so Bruce’s day wouldn’t be ruined.” Her voice got shaky. “Little did I know…” Bruce wouldn’t make it to his wedding.

  “Have you told anyone else about your concerns about Bruce?”

  “No. No one. I loved him, and I never wanted anyone to think anything bad about him or us.” She sighed. “Nicki, there’s something else I need to tell you, so I’ll just get it over with. I’m sure you’re wondering about his will. Bruce left everything to me and Lydia—his car, his condo, his savings, his one-hundred-thousand-dollar life insurance policy, everything split evenly. But PreTechTion is Frank’s, so that stays with him. Frank’s the executor, too.”

  “Thank you so much for telling me. Is there anything else you’ve learned during this time? Anything that might shed light on what happened?”

  “No. I’ve looked through his condo, and the police have his computer,” she said. “But wait.” I held my breath. “He stored everything in a cloud, so any computer should have access to it, right?”

  “I think so, if you know the password.”

  “Bruce was really private about that stuff. I don’t know any of his passwords, but they must be in his condo somewhere.”

  There was an energy in Mia’s voice I hadn’t heard before.

  “Let me call you back,” she said. “I’m stopping at Bruce’s before I go to the hospital.”

  Bruce’s betrayal and absence, I guessed, made Mia comfortable crossing lines she wouldn’t have before. Even while grieving for Jason, I’d frantically (almost hysterically) ransacked his belongings in an effort to make sense of his actions. I’d been desperate for answers, but he hadn’t left many clues. Then again, our relationship had been different. I’d known his passwords, and perhaps for that reason, none of the accounts I searched held any evidence. I’d always wondered if he had other email addresses—or if he’d used his work email to woo Megan. His work account was long gone, I assumed, and I’d never gotten up the courage to ask her family. Maybe now I would.

  If Mia and Bruce had combined their cell phone bills and shared an account, Mia could access Bruce’s cell phone records. But she’d told me early on they didn’t share a bill. Now that Frank was executor, I hoped he’d access Bruce’s records and forward them to us.

  “Call me anytime, Mia,” I told her. “I have my cell phone with me day and night.”

  Twenty-Three

  As soon as I hung up with Mia, my phone rang again. This time, it was Andy.

  “Andy?” I said, surprised. He rarely called me.

  “Hey, Nicki. Are you home?”

  “Yeah. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

  “Sure. I just want to talk to you about something. Can you come over?”

  Oooohkay. That was weird.

  “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

  I pulled on black slacks and a purple sweater and quickly texted Dean to let him know I’d be back in touch soon. Then I slipped on my running-next-door slippers and bolted to Kenna’s, where Andy answered the door, looking calm in sweatpants and an orange and black Bandits jersey. As a supposedly unbiased reporter, he didn’t wear team paraphernalia at work. At home was another story.

  “Come on in.”

  I stepped into the foyer and saw Sky in the kitchen munching on something messy. I gave her a wave and called “hello.” Kenna yelled “hi” from somewhere unseen.

  Andy led me into the living room, and we sat on an ivory couch that somehow remained unstained. I was pretty sure my kids would ruin it someday. Kenna enjoyed decorating and was willing to risk destroying expensive things. I bought almost everything at Target and barely gave a hoot. I carried around enough stress without adding furniture to my list.

  “Kenna told me you’re working on the Bruce Fallon case, and I know you can’t say anything about it, but I have some critical information for you. You can only use it for background knowledge, though. You’d have to keep it to yourself, and it can’t go in a report to anyone.”

  “Okay. Are you sure you’re comfortable sharing it?”

  “Not really, but I’ve been thinking about it for days, and it’s the right thing to d
o, especially since Eli’s arrest didn’t close your case. You’re family, and you’ve done a lot for us.”

  I knew he was referring to Sky’s adoption, and I told him to cut it out. They didn’t owe me anything, ever. Friendship wasn’t about owing.

  “Fine,” he said. “I think you need to know that Bruce is a key player in a story I’ve been working on.”

  What? “Before you go on,” I said, “am I allowed to tell Dean?”

  “If he agrees to the same terms and you trust him completely, it’s okay.”

  Trust him completely? Was this some kind of test? I encouraged Andy to continue.

  “If this story gets out too soon,” he explained, “my source could be in danger. And honestly, it’s the biggest story of my career, and I want to break it. If I don’t, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do to my editor about how I’ve been spending the last few months.”

  Great. So if Dean or I mishandled the information, an unknown person’s life might hang in the balance, and we could damage Andy’s career.

  “Understood,” I said with false confidence. “What is it?”

  “You know how Bruce’s father owns the company Bruce worked for, PreTechTion?”

  “Yeah. They’re developing that football helmet thing.” I recalled the prototypes from the reception and Bruce’s condo.

  “Right. But that ‘helmet thing’ is a huge problem.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s complicated, so I’ll stick to the basics. I assume you’ve heard a lot about concussions in the news, especially related to football players’ health.” I nodded. “The league has paid a lot of money in settlements and changed the rules to improve safety.”

  “Okay. So the helmet builds on that?”

  “It does,” Andy said. “Way too much.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Frank arranged for Bruce to meet with the Bandits, and they were blown away by the helmet. My source says the product is so good that it can predict which players are most likely to get hurt—and measure how players are doing throughout the game, from how hard they’re getting hit to how well they’re hydrated—and that’s the problem. No ethical trainer could see all that without sidelining players constantly. Even starting the game could be unethical.”