Little Broken Things

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  “It hasn’t been easy since Jack died, but every day, it gets a bit easier. My sister’s trying to move on. And speaking of moving on, I see you’ve moved your medical practice.”

  He glanced back at a beige, stucco, three-story building which housed several different offices. “After my assistant died in the fire at the old office, I considered retiring. I took some time off and realized it wasn’t a good idea to sit around all day doing nothing. A few months back, I leased this place. I’m guessin’ you’re here to see Roxie?”

  “I am. How did you know?”

  “Yesterday, Roxie told me about what happened to her friend, Olivia Spencer. I could tell she was struggling with the news, so I sent her home and gave her the rest of the week off.”

  “How long has Roxie worked for you?” I asked.

  “Oh, let’s see … almost a month now.”

  “What can you tell me about her?”

  He paused a moment and considered the question. “She’s not the kind of employee I would have considered hiring in the past.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Don’t be offended when I say this, but she reminds me a bit of you.”

  “Me? In what way?”

  “She’s a spitfire, and she has your say-whatever-is-on-your-mind type of attitude. It’s ruffled a few feathers with my clients.”

  I thought back to a previous case, one where I’d suggested Terry had killed my sister’s husband because a money clip found at my sister’s house was inscribed with his initials. I was wrong, and it had been reckless of me to accuse him without cause.

  “If Roxie’s so aggressive, why did you hire her?” I asked.

  “She’s a hard worker, and she’s fast—fastest assistant I’ve ever had. She gets her work done in a fraction of the time any of my past employees did. Sure, she’s a bit impulsive, but I believe she means well. I just get the impression she’s still trying to figure herself out.”

  Weren’t we all?

  “What did Roxie tell you about Olivia’s murder?” I asked.

  “From what I understand, the two were close friends. She saw Olivia about a week before she died. I know because I gave her the afternoon off to get fitted for her bridesmaid dress.”

  Good.

  Maybe Roxie could offer more insight on Olivia than Abigail had.

  “Do you have Roxie’s address?”

  He nodded, and I followed him back to his office. We walked to a filing cabinet, and he pulled out Roxie’s work application and jotted her address down on a slip of paper. I thanked him and headed over to Olive & Thyme restaurant, where I was meeting my brother’s girlfriend for dinner.

  Simone arrived right on time, stepping out of the car in a bright red bowler hat that could be seen from a mile away. Tonight, she was dressed in a Culture Club T-shirt beneath a black blazer, black skinny jeans, and red Converse high-tops.

  We took a seat at a booth and ordered. The waiter shuffled off to get us some drinks, and I said, “How are things going with my brother?”

  She hesitated longer than usual. “I mean … they’re good.”

  Her tone indicated otherwise.

  “They’re good, but …?”

  “Paul’s moving kinda fast for me.”

  I thought about Giovanni’s “let’s cohabitate” proposal and wondered if Paul had suggested the same. “Moving fast meaning, Paul wants you to move in together?”

  “Meaning … Paul wants to skip moving in altogether and head straight to the alter.”

  He wants to get married?

  I was shocked.

  “You’ve been dating for what, six months?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but you know your brother. He’s an all-in kind of guy. He goes from zero to warp speed in a matter of seconds.”

  It was her polite way of saying when Paul had his heart set on something, there was no deterring him, a trait all my siblings had inherited in one way or another from our mother. I didn’t blame him. Simone was a catch.

  “What did you say when Paul brought up the topic of marriage?” I asked.

  She grinned. “Before or after he popped the question?”

  “Wait—he proposed? He didn’t even broach the subject with you first?”

  The waiter set a vodka soda in front of me and a martini in front of Simone. She wasted no time swallowing back a hearty mouthful. “Nope, he sure didn’t. He dove right in. Took me on a hot-air balloon ride last week, got down on one knee, and asked me to be his wife.”

  “I, ahh … I’m not even sure what to say.”

  She flashed me a wink. “Imagine how I felt. Here I was thinking the next step would be moving in together.”

  “What was your answer?”

  “I haven’t given him one yet. I said I need time to consider it first. Don’t get me wrong. I love your brother. I’m just not sure I’m ready to take such a big step yet.”

  “How did he react when you told him you needed to think about it?”

  “He’s been a lot quieter than usual, answering my questions with the least amount of words possible.”

  “So, he’s been pouting.”

  She swallowed back a bit more of her martini, and we both laughed. “Yep, great way to put it.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel better, I was propositioned this week, just not in the same way you were.”

  Simone set her drink on the bar counter and faced me. “Oh yeah? Do tell.”

  “Giovanni just bought a house in Cambria. He wants us to move in together.”

  “How do you feel about moving in together?”

  “Giving up my autonomy and sharing a house with someone is a hard decision. What if I feel like eating potato chips in bed at night and he’s sleeping? Or what if I want to stay up binge-watching a chick-flick in the living room until three a.m.?”

  She raised a brow. “When’s the last time you ate potato chips in bed at night?”

  I thought about it.

  I couldn’t remember.

  Maybe never.

  It was beside the point.

  Wasn’t it?

  “Sometimes it’s nice to have my own space,” I said. “I like the quiet. It’s peaceful, and it allows me to think. I like doing whatever I want whenever I want. And … have I mentioned it’s quiet?”

  She bit down on her lip, stifling a laugh. “In all the times I’ve been around Giovanni, I’ve never known him to be a loud man or one who would ever stop you from doing whatever you like. I mean, I hear what you’re saying, but maybe we should be talking about what you aren’t saying. Something else is worrying you, isn’t it?”

  I’d almost forgotten the impeccable skill she had of seeing through my outer layers and into the core of my true feelings.

  “I’ve never lived with a man other than my ex-husband,” I said. “I’ve often wondered whether he thought I was any good at it—cohabitating, I mean. Seemed like we’d just started our journey together and then we had Fallon, and she became the center of our universe until the accident. After that, I just … I fell apart.”

  “I wouldn’t say you fell apart. I’d say you took some alone time when you needed it most. You pushed through your demons and worked on finding yourself again. It’s hard work, and it wasn’t easy, but you did it.”

  “I’d like to think I’m doing a lot better now than I was back then. What if I’m wrong? What if I think I have my act together, but I don’t?”

  Simone gave my arm a squeeze. “Remember the first time we met? You wouldn’t give me the time of day. Now look at you—we’re having real conversations. You’re letting me in. You’re getting personal. It’s progress, girl, plain and simple.”

  “You’re right. It’s just … when two people move in together, you see sides of each other you’ve never seen, no matter how long you dated beforehand. Giovanni and I have a great thing going right now. I don’t want to screw it up.”

  She winked at me and said, “So don’t screw it up, then.”

  Our food arrived, and t
he conversation shifted from Giovanni to the case I was working on. Given Simone was a forensic anthropologist who had also been a police officer for a short time at the start of her career, she offered insight on some of the things I hadn’t had time to follow up on yet.

  “Those bruises Olivia’s friend said she saw on one of her shoulders … Silas didn’t find any bruising other than those caused by the murder weapon, right?”

  “Right.”

  “You need to figure out how those were inflicted. What’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”

  “I need to talk to Casper again, because they were together when the bruises occurred. If anyone knows how she got them, he will. I also need to talk to Roxie Moreno, another of Olivia’s close friends, and Shawn Murphy, Olivia’s ex-boyfriend. I’ve heard he was jealous of Casper after the breakup.”

  “Jealousy is as good a reason to murder someone as any.”

  We finished dinner, and Simone’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. I’m moving offices.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen the expansion going on at the coroner unit. Silas is getting a bigger lab, and they’re adding a couple of additional offices. One of them is mine. I transfer over next week. Guess they figured I’ve already worked with him on a few cases, so why not put us both together?”

  The idea made perfect sense.

  “Great! That means I’ll start seeing you more.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  We stood, pushed our chairs in, and gave each other a hug. When I pulled back, I glanced at her left hand, something she picked up on right away. “Paul, ahh … well, when I didn’t give him an immediate yes, he snapped the ring box closed and shoved it in his pocket. I’m sure he’ll come around. He just needs a little time.”

  “I wasn’t wondering where the ring was,” I said. “Well, not your ring, anyway. I was wondering how I missed it.”

  “Missed what?”

  “When I inspected Olivia Spencer at the crime scene, she wasn’t wearing a ring on her wedding finger. She was less than a month away from getting married. She should have been wearing an engagement ring, at least. I’m almost positive she wasn’t. If it wasn’t on her finger, where in the hell is it?”

  Chapter 15

  I arrived home, showered, and went through the photos I’d taken at the crime scene. Turned out, I was right. Olivia hadn’t been wearing a ring when I first examined her body. I called Aunt Laura, and she confirmed Olivia had been given an engagement ring. From the time it had been placed on her finger, she’d never seen Olivia without it.

  If Olivia hadn’t taken it off, someone else had.

  The question was … whom?

  And why had it been removed?

  I needed to clear my head, to think about something else until morning, anything else so I could start the next day fresh. At the moment, I was in an impulsive mood. I could feel it in every fiber of my being. For once, my impulses worked for me and not against me, and I decided the time had come to act on them.

  A half hour later, Giovanni opened his front door and showed Luka and me inside. Luka trotted off to the living room and settled in on his dog bed. Giovanni wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

  “It was getting so late, I didn’t know if you were still coming,” he said. “How’s your day been? How’s the case you’re working on?”

  I pressed my hands to the sides of his face and stared up at him. “I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

  He blinked at me and said nothing at first. I considered retracting my hands but didn’t. I’d said what I’d needed to say for a long time, and though I was a ball of nerves as to how my declaration would be received, it needed to be said. His response came in the form of a kiss, one which required no words to interpret its meaning.

  Then he said, “E ti amo, tesoro mio.”

  “It sounds nice, but what does it mean?”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  We stood in silence for a moment, breathing in the giant step we’d both just taken.

  “Well, I said what I came to say.” I took a step back. “I have an early start tomorrow. I guess I’ll be going.”

  He looked at me like he was trying to gauge how serious I was, and I socked him in the shoulder, breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. It felt good to let go, to let him in, and to feel a more relaxed, playful side of myself—a side I hadn’t embraced in a long time.

  He pulled me close and said, “You can leave as early as you like tomorrow morning, but you’re not going anywhere tonight.”

  We settled in next to one another on the sofa, and I turned toward him. “You asked me about the case a few minutes ago. I’m fine to talk about it, and I’m also fine not to talk about it tonight.”

  “What matters to you matters to me. Besides, I’d like to hear about your day.”

  “You’d also like to be sure I’m not getting myself into too much trouble.”

  “You can’t blame me for wanting to keep you safe.”

  No, I couldn’t.

  I filled him in on the main details of the day, from meeting with Olivia’s teacher, to the poetry I’d read, my visit with Abigail, and my dinner with Simone. Once I’d finished, he said, “You’ve had a long day. You must be tired.”

  “I am. I’m not sure my brain ever knows how to shut down though, not even when I’m asleep.”

  “I know the feeling. I’ve had a lot on my mind today as well.”

  “What was your day like today?”

  “My sister’s gotten herself into some trouble. Nothing she can’t get out of, but I believe it would be best if I returned home for a few days so I can help her resolve her current dilemma.”

  “What’s the dilemma?” I asked.

  He looked at me as though he thought it unwise to unpack the details of Daniela’s current troubles and then said, “In the past, my family’s dealings haven’t always been—let’s just say—legal, as I’m sure you’re aware. When my father passed away several years ago and the family looked to me and now to Daniela, we sought to change the way things were being run. Sometimes those changes aren’t well received. Today is one of those times.”

  The way I interpreted his explanation was that Daniela had continued the efforts the siblings had started, but perhaps the changes were a lot easier to accept when he’d been in charge. As women, we’d come a long way in the past decade, but we still had a ways to go.

  “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” I asked.

  “I hope to return by the beginning of next week.”

  It was Friday, but having him away for the next few days meant I could hyper-focus on the case. It also meant I’d be able to give moving in together a little more consideration before offering him my final answer.

  “Daniela’s going to be okay,” I said. “Right?”

  “She will be fine. Peppe will be staying behind, by the way. He’ll be around if there’s anything you need. I’ll send you his number.”

  “I appreciate it, but I’ll be all right.”

  He stood and reached for my hand. He didn’t need to say a word. If he was leaving in the morning, we needed to make the most of tonight. Time to reconvene in the bedroom.

  Chapter 16

  It was ten o’clock in the morning, and I was sitting in Barb’s living room, sipping on a cup of Earl Grey tea and updating her on what I’d learned since I’d seen her the day before.

  “I don’t understand why Olivia took her engagement ring off,” Barb said.

  “I’m not suggesting she did,” I said.

  “What are you suggesting then?”

  “I’m saying it’s possible someone removed it from her hand.”

  Barb leaned back and crossed her arms. “There was over a thousand dollars in cash sitting in the register and a whole lot more in the safe in the back room. Why would someone take a cheap ring and leave the money?”

  “What ma
kes you think it was cheap?”

  Barb shrugged. “My sister thought it looked like Casper got it out of one of those fifty-cent toy dispensers you see at the front of the grocery store. I never said that to Olivia, of course. She was so proud of it. She showed it off to everyone. Ask me, the stone in her ring was a cubic zirconia, not a diamond. We all thought so.”

  It seemed Barb had been spending too much time with her sister. Chelsea’s smug attitude had started to rub off on her.

  A car pulled into the driveway. Stuart and Chelsea got out. Stuart popped the trunk and grabbed a few bags of groceries. Then they headed to the door.

  Barb rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m glad my sister and brother-in-law care so much, and I’m glad they want to take care of me, but I’m starting to feel a bit smothered. I need time to myself.”

  “Have you told them how you feel?”

  Barb huffed a laugh. “My sister isn’t the type of person you tell things to, and even if I did, she wouldn’t listen. She’d still be here, day in and day out, making sure I’m eating, functioning, and haven’t killed myself yet. Ever since Olivia died, she’s watched me like a hawk. Can’t even go pee without her rapping on the door to ask if I’m okay.”

  Chelsea opened the door without bothering to knock first and waltzed into the house like she owned the place. She glanced at Barb and frowned. “My goodness, you’re so pale. Have you eaten anything today?”

  Barb sighed. “It’s early. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I can’t help it. It’s in my nature to worry. You’re my baby sister. I’ll always worry, whether you like it or not.”

  Stuart gave me a look like he knew better than to get involved in the conversation and said, “I’ll just set these groceries on the counter and go grab the rest.”

  “The rest?” Barb said. “How much did you buy?”

  “You have a lot going on,” Chelsea said. “The least we can do is make sure you and Chad are well fed and that enough food is prepared for the funeral reception. I’m making Mom’s funeral potatoes and some ham-and-cheese sandwiches. I’ve assigned a few casseroles to your friends and neighbors too.”