Sky High (A Nicki Valentine Mystery Book 2) (9 page)

Fourteen

I’d been a fool before. There had been red flags with Jason, especially his late nights at the office, which were so frequent that I started to resent the times he came home and interrupted the evening routine. I needed my kids in bed on time, not energized by Daddy’s surprise arrival just when bottles and sippy cups were finished, bedtime stories were read, cuddles were given, and a breast pump sucked the remaining life out of me.

Jason seemed to understand. But I was the one who didn’t see we were falling apart. I was too overwhelmed, distracted, and exhausted. And he was too absent, desperate, and dishonest to care.

It was hard to snap out of my funk while talking with Dean. I told him about getting the stripper’s name, but there was no way I’d mention Genevieve. Our case was my priority, and he hadn’t mentioned a word about her in a year of emailing. What was I going to say? That Kenna had lost her mind? That I was just curious? He and I weren’t even an exclusive couple.

My focus improved, though, when we discussed Andrea. I found her believable, and Dean’s genuine dismay and concern kept me in the moment.

“I don’t know if I can blame Eli for wanting revenge,” he said.

“Wanting it or taking it?” I asked.

Instead of answering, he just shook his head.

“I know,” I said, touching his arm. “I understand. Let’s talk about what’s next.”

A call from Frank provided some direction.

“I got the details about Eli Morgan,” he said. “They didn’t find the fifty thousand dollars in his house or car, but Bruce withdrew it from savings on Friday, and they have all kinds of evidence on Eli. Flights, cell phone records, crime scene evidence.”

“Crime scene evidence? What kind?” Dean asked.

“There was some trace blood on his rental car. On the driver’s seat. It’ll take time to get the testing back. And there were calls between the two of them going back a few days.”

“You said Bruce withdrew the money on Friday. What would losing that kind of money mean to him?” I asked.

“He could afford it. He would have been fine. I just wish he’d come to me for advice. Pride must have gotten the best of him.” He let out an aggravated groan.

“When are they bringing Eli back to Virginia?” Dean asked.

“As soon as possible, and I want you here, too.”

We agreed to wrap things up in Florida, and Dean asked for Frank’s perspectives on Bruce’s history at Smyth. Frank didn’t believe Bruce was capable of rape, and he said Smyth only investigated because it was required by law. As far as he knew, Mia was unaware of Andrea’s accusation, but with Eli’s arrest she’d find out any minute, if she hadn’t already.

“Bruce put all that negativity behind him,” Frank said. “Things were going his way in business and personally. This is just completely senseless.”

Dean and I were quiet for a second. Everyone needed a moment to regroup.

“I understand why you didn’t want us to call Mia or Lydia earlier,” I said, “but we’ll need to talk with them soon, and they might call us, especially now that Eli has been arrested. I can’t help worrying about Mia hearing about his arrest from the police.”

That wasn’t my business, but when the police told me Jason had been unfaithful, the news was incomprehensible. He’d lied to me about so much, and trying to reconcile so many emotions—confusion, denial, grief, betrayal, and more—felt impossible. In some ways, I still thought it was. I didn’t want Mia to learn about Bruce’s past alone. She deserved family and friends around her.

“I’ll call Lydia at the hospital now,” Frank said. “I’m sure Mia’s with her. You can talk with them anytime after that. Just remember how fragile Lydia is, and Mia too. I don’t want to be responsible for anything happening to them.”

Me either
, I thought.
Unless it’s something good.

“We have a lot to do back in Virginia,” I told Dean after we hung up and booked flights for the next evening, knowing we could postpone them if necessary. “But I want to track down Bruce’s ex-girlfriend Eva before we leave.”

“Me too.” He started typing on his laptop.

“And speaking of exes, I want to talk with Mia’s ex, Austin. It’s kind of weird that he was at the reception, don’t you think?”

“It depends how they ended things.”

“True. But Mia implied Bruce didn’t like him. What if there was some kind of pre-wedding confrontation?” I was throwing darts without a target, but we had to brainstorm. “And Mia’s parents. We haven’t talked to them. My aunt says they were crazy about Bruce, but you never know.”

After Jason died, my dad admitted he’d had reservations about my marriage. He didn’t think it was his place to say anything, and I agreed, even after Jason died. I wouldn’t have listened anyway. I was in love, and ultimately, marrying Jason brought me Jack and Sophie. I tried not to think about “what ifs,” but they crept in anyway. What if Jason or I had given our relationship more attention? What if Megan hadn’t come to work at his office? What if I’d been prettier? Or sexier? Or more confident, for heaven’s sake?

“Here’s Eva’s address,” Dean said, pointing to his laptop screen. “Looks like she’s still local.”

“Perfect. Does anything else pop up for her?”

He clicked a few links while I looked over his shoulder. “She runs her own real estate business, Moreno Properties.”

Her website featured moderately priced homes, glowing client testimonials, and her home, cell, and office numbers. A department store-quality photo showed a pale, makeup free woman in her twenties with long, dark hair and a plain, white blouse.

We browsed her website and learned she was hosting a first time homebuyer’s seminar that night. We were far too late to register, but that wouldn’t stop us. We’d have just enough time for dinner before showing up and extending the seminar’s Q&A. I couldn’t help wondering if there would be a natural opportunity to ask Dean a real estate question or two…and whether that would be sneaky or smart.

The hotel recommended a nearby steakhouse for dinner, and I didn’t want to complain, so I settled for my usual salad and fries, wishing I could plop some baked, marinated tofu on the lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and carrots.

“Sorry the selection’s not great,” Dean said. “I never realized how challenging that is.”

“No problem,” I said. “I’m used to it. You get creative.”

“You know, we haven’t even seen the beach yet,” Dean said. “Do you want to sneak in a swim tomorrow?”

Oh, dear. Only if it was in the dark. Or in a wetsuit. It wasn’t bathing suit season, and for me, it hadn’t been since the ’90s.

“Great idea.”
In theory
. I was glad I’d ordered a salad. “Let me check in with Liz before the kids’ bedtime and find out their plans—and tell her about our flight.”

“Sure thing.”

I excused myself and stepped outside. The temperature was comfortable, and a light breeze ruffled my blouse. I tapped a weather app on my phone and saw the wonderful/disturbing news. Tomorrow’s weather was perfect for whatever we wanted (or didn’t want) to do. At least Liz and the kids would have plenty of options.

I still didn’t see a text from Kenna, so I checked my email, and there it was. Super Teddy, furry paws clasped under his cheek, head resting on Jack’s pillow. A blanket was tucked around his chin and cape. (Unfortunately, it was impossible to close his eyes. Hopefully Jack couldn’t relate.) A nearby index card read, “Hi Jack and Sophie. Had a fun day. Hope you did too. Get some sleep so we can have fun when you get back! Love, ST.”

To savor the image for a moment, I enlarged it before sending it to Liz. There, blurry but discernible on Jack’s nightstand, was a tipped-over Corona bottle and a crinkled Chipotle bag. Apparently Kenna was living it up with Super Teddy, and she made sure I knew it. If I didn’t get home soon, he might be her new BFF.

After forwarding the photo to Liz, I called with an update and explained our plans.

“We’ll go to Disney tomorrow, then,” she said. “Do you want to pick up the kids there, since it’s near the airport?”

“That would be perfect,” I said. “Is seven thirty too late? And are you really okay with packing all their stuff?”

“It’s fine. I’ll make sure they eat dinner, and they’ll probably conk out on the flight after a long day.”

Wow. That meant I’d have significant alone time in the car without any responsibilities or interruptions. What a luxury. Maybe I’d get lucky and run into traffic. I’d gas up early, just in case.

“Thank you so much, Aunt Liz. One more favor. Please take a few pictures. I might die if I don’t see their first trip to Disney World.”

She promised to do her best with her cell phone—plus buy one or two photos from the park.

We talked a little more about Jack’s trouble sleeping and their long, tiring day at the beach.

“I’m not sure he could stay awake if he wanted to,” Liz said.

Phew.

Their sleepy voices on the phone put me at ease and made me want to hug them a million times. I blew them kisses, breathed a sigh of relief that their day had ended well, and returned to Dean a little too relaxed.

“So,” I said, “about our trip to the beach. Let’s do it.”

Eva’s seminar ended promptly at nine, and we entered her office lobby while everyone else exited, most of them holding folders, pamphlets, and real estate goody bags. I guess they weren’t just for kids’ parties anymore.

“Did you forget something?” she asked when she saw us swimming against the tide.

“Oh no, we couldn’t attend the seminar,” I said. I introduced myself and Dean and watched a look of interested surprise cross her face. As soon as I mentioned Bruce’s name, though, her expression turned serious, and she busied herself with cleanup.

“I haven’t seen Bruce in a couple years,” she said as she folded a cardboard display of properties and estimated mortgage payments. “I doubt I can help.”

She put the display in a closet and got out a light jacket. There was still plenty to do—plates of cookies to put away, stacks of paperwork to straighten, and a giant whiteboard to erase. But she put on her coat, tucked dark strands behind her ears, and pulled keys from her pocket.

“I know it’s been a long night,” I said. “But we’re only in Florida today, and we’d really appreciate a few minutes of your time.”

“What do you want to know, exactly? And why?”

I glanced at Dean and explained that Bruce was missing, but I didn’t provide many details. “When was the last time you were in contact with him?”

“I haven’t seen him since college, but he’s emailed a few times asking to see me. I always turn him down.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, basically because he’s a prick.”

I smiled and gently asked her to elaborate.

She looked at Dean and then back at me.

“Would you like me to step outside?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” we both responded. That got a smile out of Eva.

“I hope I never see Bruce again,” she confided once Dean was out of sight. “He’s a creep who used me in college. We dated for six months and broke up when he moved, and he emailed me occasionally asking to get back together. I knew what he wanted, and it wasn’t a relationship. Finally, I stopped responding. He emailed on my birthday this year, September 28, and I ignored him and changed my email address. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

She added that she’d closed her old email account and deleted its data, so she couldn’t retrieve what he’d sent.

“I’m sorry to ask this, but was he ever violent in any way?”

She fiddled with her keys and stalled. “Sort of, yes. I don’t want to get into it. I was an idiot to date him. Young and stupid.”

I tried to make her comfortable saying more, but she stayed mum, so I asked if she’d reported him, either to the school or the police, and she said no. She alluded to Andrea’s case and said taking action seemed hopeless.

“Do you know of anyone else who dated him or was mistreated by him?”

“No, thankfully.”

“Do you feel safe from him now?”

“I guess. But it’s weird that he’s missing.”

She looked around, as if he might be here.

“We didn’t expect to find him in Florida. We only found you because we did some background research. I’m sorry if we scared you.”

“It’s okay. Can you tell me if you do find him, though?”

“I hope so,” I said. I gave her our business cards. “And I hope you’ll keep in touch if you think of anything that might help. Or if he gets in touch with you, of course. The police would want to know, too.”

I jotted down Detective Allen’s contact information on the back of my card, took two of her cards from a display, and offered to walk her out.

The silence on the way to her car was comfortable but full. After thanking her, I watched her get into her Mercedes and listened as she locked its doors. Then I waved goodbye and turned toward Dean’s rental, where he sat in the glow of a reading light.

My feet moved slowly as I worked to identify a familiar, nameless emotion. Then I realized it wasn’t one; it was two.

Fury.

And determination.