Always Room for Cupcakes (18 page)

“Thanks for coming over so quickly,” I said to Carmen as I opened my door and let her inside.

I’d been back in my apartment for three days. My kids were home, and we were working on getting back to normal. The first time we’d parked in the lot and walked inside, I’d watched as my kids looked warily to the place where they’d seen me snatched, but luckily, they didn’t seem to be afraid to be back in our home.

“Are you kidding?” Carmen asked, bounding inside. “I was so excited to get your call that I sped the whole way here. I’m lucky I didn’t get a ticket.”

I chuckled at her exuberance I shut the door behind her.

“We can go in the living room or the dining room, whichever you’d prefer.”

“Living room works,” Carmen said, not waiting for me to show her around, instead moving down the hall on her own.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Water would be great,” she called back as she disappeared around the corner. “Great sofa.”

Still chuckling, I got us both waters and met her in the living room, where she was already setting her stuff out on the coffee table and sitting on my couch as if she’d been over a million times before.

I sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch, watching as she laid out a notebook, pen, pencil, old-school recording device, and smart phone, all in a neat little row in front of her.

I placed her water in front of her and she promptly moved it to the right of her phone, a little bit above her neat row.

She must have noticed my little smile because she shrugged and said unapologetically, “OCD.”

“So, how should we do this?” I asked, a little nervous.

“Just start at the beginning and tell me everything as if you’re telling me a story. I’ll record it and take notes, so that I don’t leave anything out, and when I write it I’ll make sure to hit all of the important points.”

“Okay,” I replied, taking a sip of my water, then a deep breath, before telling her everything.

From the cokehead to Hector, to the Coke Club and everything I’d overheard them say and do. I told her all about Moose, the case, and Carlos, and I gave her a thumb drive with copies of all of the pictures I’d taken that pertained to the case. She took down information about Bea and Cade, and said she’d try to get them to corroborate my story, but I warned her that Cade probably wouldn’t be very forthcoming.

I’d spoken to Bea and the Coke Club had been arrested, Moose’s body had been taken to the morgue, and they were searching for Hector and Carlos, but so far, no luck.

Bea wasn’t thrilled that I was speaking with the media, but I promised to only speak with Carmen and that I’d ask Carmen to run the piece by her before going to print, just to make sure it wouldn’t hinder the investigation in any way.

“This is going to be awesome,” Carmen gushed when I finished. “You truly are a town hero, Lila, and I cannot wait to let everyone know it.” Then her grin turned wicked. “I’m honored that you and Bea trust me with this, and I really look forward to exposing all of those women who thought they could make extra money by becoming drug dealers. What a bunch of assholes.”

I burst out laughing, surprised, but finding that I
really
liked Carmen Santos.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked, piling all of her things back into her killer handbag.

“I’m not sure yet,” I replied honestly. “With Moose gone I don’t have a job anymore. I love working with Amy May at the bakery, but it’s just part time, which won’t pay the bills … I’ll come up with something, I guess.”

“Well,” Carmen said, her eyes on me as she rose and pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “
I
think, with Moose gone, there’s going to be a real need for a new PI in town.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. He was the only one in three counties, after all.

She looked pointedly at me … then I got it.

“Oh. What? Me? I’m not a PI. I’m not even qualified to do that.”

“What do you need to do to be qualified?”

“Well, I don’t know…”

“Maybe you should look into it,” she suggested. “You were essentially doing all of Moose’s dirty work anyway, and you worked for him for over a year, right? Seems like clients wouldn’t have a hard time throwing you their business.”

Not really knowing how to reply, I walked her to the door in silence, my head spinning with possibilities.

“Again, thanks so much for calling me. I’m thrilled you decided to do this. I’ll do you justice, I promise.”

“I know you will,” I replied, then added. “We’ll have to set up a girl’s night soon. Something involving lots of booze. We’ve all been dying to hear how your date went.”

Carmen squealed and said, “I’d love that! But, in answer to the dating thing, let’s just say, I’m still on the market. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a random hot motorcycle man pick them up on the side of the road when they’re running from drug dealers.”

Another laugh burst out of me, and I thought,
I really need to keep this girl around.

“Just sayin’,” she added with a grin.

We said our goodbyes and as soon as she was gone I sent out a group text to her, Amy May, and Bea, asking when would be a good night to get together and blow off steam.

Then I went to the computer and searched:
How to be a Private Investigator
.

“Hello?” I said cautiously as I lifted my cell to my ear. The number was local, but unknown, and after all the hype surrounding Carmen’s expose, I’d been getting a lot of phone calls.

I don’t know why I still answered…

“Delilah Horton?” a deep male voice asked.

“Yes?” I replied, ready to hang up if it was another out-of-town reporter. I’d given the only interview I planned on giving on the subject of the Chavez brothers.

“Ma’am, this is Branson Braswell, Mr. Samuel Sturgis’s attorney.”

“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person. I don’t know a Samuel Sturgis.”

“I believe you knew him as Moose,” the deep voice replied.

“
Moose
?” I asked as pain hit me in the chest at the memories hearing that name invoked.

“Yes, ma’am. I’d like to meet with you, maybe set up a time for you to come by the office?”

“The office?” I asked again, knowing that I kept repeating what he said, but confused as to the nature of his call.

“Or, if you’d rather, I can come to you. Meet you wherever you’d like. I won’t take up much of your time, Ms. Horton.”

“Um, I’m at Jake’s right now.” I looked up at the clock over the bar and was about to say I could meet him in an hour, but he replied before I could.

“I’m actually just a block away, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked at it.

He’d hung up.

What a strange turn of events. I was at Jake’s waiting for Cade to meet me for lunch, and now I had some lawyer coming to talk to me about Moose.

Did lawyers make house calls … or bar and grill calls, in this case?

My life had been such a whirlwind lately that I wondered how anything still managed to surprise me, but this did. What could Moose’s lawyer want with me?

I sipped my diet Pepsi, eyes on the door, wondering what the lawyer would look like. The voice had been nice, but you could hardly tell by a voice on the phone how someone would look.

Expecting an older man in a vintage suit with a fifty-dollar haircut and a pot belly, I didn’t immediately register that the man who’d just walked in was heading my way.

Tall and slender, but if the forearms exposed by his rolled-up shirtsleeves were any indication, very fit, with an almost military-style haircut and piercing blue eyes. The man was in dress slack, fancy shoes, and a button-up shirt, looking more like a man ready to relax at home after a long day’s work than a lawyer ready to conduct business.

But when he sidled up next to me with a smile, hand outstretched, I realized that’s exactly who he was.

“Branson Braswell, Ms. Horton, but you can call me Bran.”

I looked from his hand to those eyes, a little tongue tied, then pulled myself out of my musings and shook his hand.

“Lila, please, call me Lila,” I replied, then gestured to the empty bar stool next to me.

Bran took his seat, and when the bartender came by he asked for a water, then turned his attention back to me and asked kindly, “How are you doing, Lila? I’ve seen the news, read the paper, so I know you’ve been through an incredible ordeal. Are you holding up all right?”

It seemed strange for him to ask such a personal question, having just met me, but for some reason, I knew it came from a genuine place.

Don’t ask me how, just a gut feeling.

“The attention has been overwhelming, but I’m doing okay.”

“Nightmares?” he asked gently, and my eyes whipped to his face.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“I was in a similar situation as a child,” Bran replied vaguely, then shifted in his seat and changed the subject. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, Lila, so I’ll get right to it. As I said, I was Samuel … eh,
Moose’s
, lawyer, and I’ve been trying to get a hold of you to go over the contents of his will.”

“You have? His will? I’m sorry, things have been crazy lately, I haven’t gone through all of my messages yet.” I looked down at my finger, which was making little circles on the bar, then looked up and saw that he was watching my finger as well.

“I know, that’s what I figured, and I didn’t want to push, but it’s been a few weeks and you need to know what was in his will,” Bran said patiently, and I realized his voice had a real soothing quality to it.

“Oh? Did he leave me something?” I asked lamely.
Obviously he did, or else Mr. Hot Guy Lawyer wouldn’t have been leaving me messages and tracking me down in a bar.

“Everything,” he said oddly. “Moose left you everything. His house, his firm, everything…”

“
What?”
I cried, spinning on my stool so my legs bumped his as I brought my body around to face him.

Bran nodded.

“He has no family. Parents are both dead, never married, no kids. You’re the closest to him.”

“That’s so … sad,” I said softly, thinking what it would be like to have no one. Then a vision of me smashing Moose’s kneecaps hit me and my hand flew to my mouth. “
Oh, my God …
But I … and he…” My eyes filled with tears.

Branson must have understood the look on my face, because his hand covered mine on the bar and he said softly, “That wasn’t your fault, Lila. You were under the influence and had no control over what you were doing. Moose knew that, and I know he wouldn’t blame you for what happened to him. He knew fully well the kind of men he was getting involved with when he accepted Carlos Chavez as a client. Why do you think he came to me and made up that will?”

My brain was trying to make sense of everything, when I felt Bran squeeze my hand.

“If you ever want to talk … about what happened, or anything at all, just give me a call,” Bran said, eyes intent so I couldn’t mistake his meaning.

I was about to respond when I felt a large, warm arm hit my shoulders and Cade’s gruff voice say, “She’s good.”

I looked up to see Cade glaring down at Bran, then turned to see Branson grin and lift up one shoulder.

“You can’t blame a man for trying, Wilkes.”

Cade continued to glare and replied, “As long as it only happens once.”

I looked from Cade, his long dark hair wild and unruly around his scowling face, to Bran, who was handsome in a casual, clean-cut way, and was grinning madly at Cade’s scowl, totally unperturbed, and wondered how in the hell I’d gone from taking an impromptu snapshot of my cheating ex to this moment right here.

Branson rose from his stool and laid his business card on the bar in front of me, then threw down enough money to cover both our drinks and a tip and said, “Call me and we’ll set up a time for you to come down to the office, sign the papers, and make everything official.”

“Okay, thanks, Bran, I will,” I responded with a smile, then watched him tilt his chin to Cade and walk away.

“What was that all about?” I asked Cade as he took Branson’s vacated seat.