I sipped the drink, and warmth exploded down my esophagus. This was the good stuff. Even so, familiar anxiety tingled through me. “Overdose? What’s your gut feeling about that? Deliberate or accidental?”
He tipped back more of his drink. “She didn’t seem suicidal.” With the bandage over his eye, he looked like a tough guy—the kind a nice girl wanted to tame. “There wasn’t a sign of struggle at the scene.”
He’d visited the scene and studied another dead kid. No wonder he was drinking.
“Was there a needle in her arm?” I asked, thinking through television shows and overdoses.
“No.” His gaze caught on the liquid swirling in his glass. “My guess is pills, but we won’t know until after the autopsy, which the coroner is doing as we speak.”
That was fast. Seriously, although it isn’t like our county had a lot of homicides or suspicious deaths. Even so.
“The coroner is my uncle on my mom’s side,” Nick said, looking up.
Yeah, that figured. The Basanelli family was as big as mine. Unlike Aiden’s family, of which he was it. Why he kept popping in my head while I was staring at a half-dressed and very sexy lawyer with whom I had a lot in common, I didn’t want to examine. Must’ve been that kiss. Or the million fantasies I’d had through the years. “Nick? How about you level with me?” Maybe I could get more out of him in his current drunken state.
He sighed and took another big drink. “As soon as I know something, I’ll share.” His chin dropped, and his eyes darkened. “My source on Jareth Davey came back empty. The guy is in the wind. No clue where he is.”
The switch in topics threw me, and I covered by taking another drink of the potent brew. “I’ve never known where he is,” I admitted. “Don’t care. There will be another card from him that arrives sometime today in my post office box, from somewhere different than before, and then I won’t hear from him until Christmas.” I forced a smile, one I hoped looked brave. “So I breathe easy until then.”
Nick shook his head and then winced as his wound no doubt hurt. “No. We have to know where he is.”
Awareness pricked through me, and my hand tightened on the glass. “Why do you care?” He was way too invested, and it wasn’t because I worked for him now.
He exhaled, and his shoulders drew down. “I was there,” he said softly, his gaze back on the glass.
I blinked. Once and twice. “You were where?”
“At the river.” He met my gaze evenly. “We were working on new dirt bikes, and I saw him on his four-wheeler. Knew he didn’t belong on our property, but I didn’t do anything. Didn’t say anything. I thought about it and went back to my bike.”
The words registered and I picked through them. “Before he took me.”
“Yeah.” Self-disgust twisted Nick’s lip.
Oh. Man. One day screwed up so many people. “Nick. You had no clue he was going to kidnap somebody. He could’ve just been a tourist out for a ride. It was camping season.”
Nick shrugged. “Yeah, but he didn’t look right. Maybe if I would’ve confronted him, maybe if I would’ve said something to my dad about the guy trespassing, then it wouldn’t have happened.”
I drank down the rest of my glass. This was one of my least favorite subjects in the entire world, but the guy couldn’t blame himself for something he had nothing to do with. “Listen, Basanelli.” I moved closer to him and poked his knee on the sofa. “You’re looking at this like a scared fifteen-year-old kid and not a grown and educated man of what, thirty-one?”
“Thirty,” he said, looking affronted.
I bit back a laugh. “All right. I’ve learned, through a whole lot of therapy, that you can’t look at things like that kid anymore. Step back and pretend it wasn’t you. Would you still be mad at that child?”
“I don’t know.” He set his glass down. “Regardless, I’ve wanted to apologize for over a decade, so I’m sorry, Anna.”
There was a sweetness in Nick that caught me off guard and was way too appealing. “You’re forgiven,” I said softly. Sometimes that’s all a person needed.
“Thank you.” Now his smile was charming and boyish. He slid a hand into my hair. “You really turned out beautiful.”
That was the booze talking, for sure. I had good genes, odd ones that didn’t identify with either side of my family, but pretty was on my best day. Both Donna and Tessa were beautiful in totally different ways from each other. I should’ve backed away from him, but I felt all warm and gooey, and his hand was strong. Not as calloused as Aiden’s, but close. “What are you doing?” I asked, my gaze dropping to his mouth.
“This.” He leaned in and brushed his lips across mine.
Desire danced through me right before warning. Oh, man, he felt good. He slowly kissed me, his mouth coaxing, his lips firm. My head swam, and I kissed him back, just for a second. Well, I meant for it to be a second. Nick Basanelli, not surprisingly, knew how to kiss.
He tasted like whiskey. The good kind.
But he was my boss.
I drew back, almost in slow motion. “We can’t do this.” For one thing, he was drunk. For the other, I couldn’t be the woman who slept with her boss. There were no secrets in my life. But it would probably be totally worth it in the short term.
He released me; his gaze slumberous. “You’re right. Completely.” He moved back, still graceful after drinking so much. “Now you have to sober up before driving home. How about we put in a movie?”
The switch caught me off guard, and now my body was all on fire. “Good idea.” I didn’t care which movie he chose.
He turned on the television and pivoted to kick his feet out onto a couple of boxes. “Just so you know, I’m not always going to be the prosecutor and your boss.”
I blinked. Was that a promise or a threat? “I’m aware,” I murmured.
And boy, was I.
Chapter 20
Working hungover sucked, and Nick hadn’t kept his promise to treat me to breakfast, instead opting to take warrants to the judge again. Worse yet, it was Wednesday. The anniversary. So I sat in my office chair, my head aching, waiting to hear from Nick about work.
Donna popped her head in the door. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Everything inside me perked up at the twin lattes in her hands. “God bless you.”
She chuckled, a light tinkling sound. Then she moved inside, shut the door, and handed over the coffee.
I took it gratefully and drank several gulps. Hazelnut—my favorite. Then I studied my oldest sister. Donna looked a little like a young Isabella Rossellini with her black hair and intelligent eyes. Her hair was in a bob and her lipstick a muted mauve, and she wore a pretty pink suit with to-die-for purple pumps. “Are you showing a house today?” I asked.
She nodded. “Three of them. Two are big commission houses on the lake.” She’d been a realtor for about five years and kicked ass.
Since it was the day of the dreaded oncoming letter, I’d see a lot of my family just dropping by to make sure I was okay. It was awesome when they brought treats. “I’m sure you’ll sell both,” I said, meaning it.
She nodded. “If your boss is staying in town, he should look at a couple.”
Heat flared into my face.
Donna took notice, daintily sipping her drink. “That’s a pretty blush.”
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I accidentally kissed Nick last night.”
“Accidentally?” As usual, Donna took a moment to think through her response. “Did you trip and fall on his face?”
A laugh burst out of me, followed by amusement that lifted the cloud that had been pressing down on me all morning. “Well, that’s one way to get a promotion.” Then I sobered and told her the entire story.
She wiped lipstick off the lid of her cup. “You know, that does sound rather romantic. Those Basanelli boys are known to be good kissers—along with everything else that comes after the kissing. Well, except for the commitment part.”
; I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Plus, he’s probably a lot safer than Aiden Devlin, even though he is your boss.” Donna’s voice remained casual, but I could tell she’d been worrying about it.
I drank more of the fragrant brew. “I love you, Donna. Stop worrying.”
Her dark eyebrows rose. “That’s my job. I’m the oldest.”
“Barely. By four years,” I retorted. She was still in her twenties, having been a realtor after taking a couple years off after high school. I still didn’t know the full extent of where she’d traveled. “We’re not kids anymore.”
“No, we are not.” Her eyes twinkled. “Tess told me about your spa appointments.”
I chuckled and leaned toward her. “It still hurts a little. What was I thinking not asking about the type of appointment?” Then I lost my smile as I remembered that Cheryl was dead. As in actually dead. What were the chances her overdose was accidental? Considering Randy had been murdered, not so great. I sighed. “Maybe I should work with Uncle Gino.”
Donna shrugged. “That’s up to you, but don’t let fear keep you from doing what you want.” She eyed her delicate watch and stood. “I have to go. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I forced a smile.
“Good, because mom said to tell you that you have another appointment with cousin Wanda the shrink tomorrow at four.” With that great news and a big smile, Donna stood and all but ran off before I could argue.
I sighed. My phone buzzed and I lifted it to my ear. “Anna Albertini.”
“Hi, sweet girl.” My dad’s voice boomed through the line, echoing off walls. “It’s Wednesday.”
I grinned. “Yeah, I know.” My dad always started work late in the silver mine once a week and took the time to call all three of his girls, even though he’d more than likely just seen us at Sunday barbecue. “I’m at work and Donna was just here. She brought me a latte.”
“Good. There’s a new study out that coffee increases life expectancy,” he boomed, no doubt having been told that by my mother.
“That’s good to know,” I said. “Did you get the core results on the new samples back yet?”
“Nope, but I’m telling you, it’s a good vein,” he said. “A real good vein. Silver is back.”
My dad was the best at what he did. He didn’t have a geology degree, but he saw veins where nobody else did, which was why he’d been the mine foreman for about forever. Plus, he was really good with people. “I’m sure it’s a good vein,” I said, meaning every word.
“Yep. Also, I’ll get your mail from the PO Box today and will call you tonight with what I find. I might just come over and take you to dinner.”
I stared at the now empty coffee cup. My dad had taken over my Silverville post office box for a week in June and in December since Jareth Davey had started sending me cards. I’d kept the box through the years, changing it once, but Davey had found the new box number, anyway. Plus, Silverville was so small, you could just write a person’s name on it without a box, and it’d end up in the right box. “I can do it,” I said.
“No need. The sheriff and I have it down,” my dad said, his voice unrelenting.
Truth be told, I didn’t want to see the card from Davey. I hadn’t actually held or seen one for years. They went from my dad, wearing gloves, to the sheriff, also wearing gloves. Every year they fingerprinted the cards and envelopes, and every year didn’t find Jareth Davey’s prints. But still. There wasn’t much else to do. “Okay, Dad. Just let me know that a card arrived.” Maybe this would be the year Jareth moved on. One could always hope.
“No problem. All right. Gotta call Tessa. Is she still dating that moron from the bank?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” I murmured. “I think they only went to one dinner, anyway. She said he was boring.”
“Good. You’re all too young to settle down. Bye, sweetheart.”
My mood lifted again. My dad wanted us in convents, and my mom wanted grandchildren. “Bye, dad.”
“Oh, don’t forget your appointment with Wanda the shrink tomorrow afternoon. Your mom wanted me to remind you. Bye.” He clicked off.
My dad was a giant of a man, towering at well over six feet, but my mom ruled the roost. Always had. I sighed and clicked off, only to have my phone buzz immediately. Man, I was popular today. “Albertini,” I answered.
“It’s Nick. We can get into Cheryl Smyther’s home now since she’s dead, so I obtained the warrants for her place and Whitaker’s duplex, based on Thelma’s affidavit. Do you want to execute the searches with the police?”
I immediately stood. Anything to take my mind off that fact that a card would be arriving in Silverville around three in the afternoon today. A card from a sociopath. “Absolutely. Where do you want to meet first?”
Melvin Whitaker had the same eyes as his nephew. Brown and deep. At the thought, standing on his front porch, I immediately forgot about the warrant. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I murmured.
He nodded, reading over the warrant while Detective Pierce, Nick, and two officers had already moved inside. “Thanks. He was a good kid just finding himself.”
That was probably true. “Do you have any idea who could’ve killed him?” I asked.
Melvin shook his head. “No.” He refolded the paper and focused on me. He was probably in his mid-sixties with silver-gray hair, dressed in black slacks and a blue polo shirt. We’d obviously caught him on his way to work.
“What exactly do you do at the seed company?” I asked.
He leaned against the doorjamb, not blocking my way but obviously trying to ignore the men behind him going through his stuff. “I’m a plant geneticist, trying to splice new generations of grass.”
“Just the lawn kind or also the marijuana kind?” I asked.
His gaze sharpened behind metal-rimmed glasses. “Both. Our labs are on the Idaho-Washington border, so we can do both.” He smiled, revealing nice dentures. “We actually had to extend the building farther into Washington state to make sure the marijuana research was only in that state. How weird is that?”
I nodded. “That really is. Randy was caught with pot. Was that from you?”
Melvin’s smile slid away. “I won’t discuss my nephew’s case.”
That was fair and probably smart. “Why do you live in Idaho?” I asked quietly. If Melvin researched pot and used it recreationally once in a while, why not live in Washington state to start with?
“I’m moving in two months,” Melvin affirmed. “I rented this place with my girlfriend for a twelve-month lease because she works in Timber City. Then she dumped me, and I’m on the hook for another two months. I let Randy move in since he was out of work, like usual.”
All of that added up nicely. I thought through the last week, since he seemed willing to talk to me. “Did you know Cheryl? Randy’s girlfriend?”
Melvin shook his head. “Not really. I mean, I met her a couple of times when she picked up Randy, but I never talked to her. Why?”
I shrugged. Her death hadn’t been reported in the news yet, so he probably didn’t even know she was dead. “Just curious. She had some pot from Randy, and I wasn’t sure how much.”
“I’m not talking about that,” Melvin said quietly.
Yeah. So, Melvin created species of marijuana, brought some home, and possibly sold it for extra money through Randy and Cheryl, or for the Lordes. That made sense, but proving it would be tough, especially since Randy and Cheryl were dead. I studied the geeky man in front of me. He didn’t seem like a murderer, but who knew.
He studied me right back.
I was almost out of questions, so I hit him with the one I wasn’t sure how to ask. “You know anything about baking bread?” If Nick wasn’t going to tell me what he’d really been asking Cheryl the other night, I’d try here.
Melvin’s chin lifted, and his narrow nostrils flared. “I’m done talking to you.” He turned on his heel and moved back into his house, already pulling a phone out of his bac
k pocket. No doubt to call a lawyer.
What the holy heck was going on?
Going on instinct, I walked across the shared driveway and up Thelma’s sidewalk, passing the vibrant flowers. Pierce and Nick could handle the search at Melvin’s. Something told me they wouldn’t find a thing, anyway. Georgiana yanked the door open before I could reach it, and the scrumptious scent of chocolate chip muffins hit me before I’d even walked up the two small steps. “Come in, come in,” she gestured, craning her neck to see behind me at the police car at the curb.
I smiled and moved past her. Today she wore a set of big faded overalls over a shirt covered in bluebirds. Pink tennis shoes with matching pink scarf over her gray hair completed the outfit.
Thelma bounced from the sofa, silver hoops at her ears dancing. “What’s going on next door?” She was dressed in Daisy Duke jean shorts and crop top, showing the sagging skin of her stomach. “I changed into my hot-stuff outfit when I saw the officers. Who’s the lead guy with the dark blond hair?”
“Detective Grant Pierce,” I answered easily as Georgiana shut the door. “He’s in his early forties, and he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. I don’t know if he’s married or not.”
She fluttered her heavily mascaraed eyelashes. “Would you introduce me?”
“I’d love nothing better,” I said, meaning every syllable. “How about we let them finish tossing Melvin’s place first?”
She clapped her hands, her myriad of rings flashing different colors. “Lovely. I have always wanted to be a cougar.” Then she squinted. “Unless you’re saving him for you, of course. There’s nothing wrong with a daddy complex.”
“He’s not that much older than me,” I said thoughtfully, taking a seat on a chair when Thelma waved me that way. “Too young for somebody looking for a daddy complex.”
Georgiana rolled her eyes. “Would you like a muffin?”
Disorderly Conduct (The Anna Albertini Files Book 1) Page 14
