No Happily Every After (Mia and Roman Psychic Suspense #4)

Chapter Three

After Roman said goodbye to Jennifer Lamb and shut the office door behind her, he turned to Mia and spread his arms wide.

“What do we think?”

“I don’t know yet. Frankly, it’s hitting a little too close to home for me. This is the kind of con I’d have run back in the day. You know, latch onto some super-rich, nerdy guy and try to get my hands on his money. I didn’t usually do a long deal, like this one, but I can see the payoff for Eliza will be more than worth the price.”

“You’ve seriously gotta stop identifying with the bad guys. Not that we even know Eliza is bad yet. She might just be a sweet girl who’s fallen in love and Jennifer is the wicked stepmother.”

Mia shook her head. “I’m not getting any wicked stepmother vibes from Jennifer. In fact, the only thing I sensed was love and concern for Scott. And maybe some damaged pride in the area of her husband. He’s definitely put a dent in her.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see what’s what once I start delving in.”

“Good luck with that. I’m gonna take off. I have some errands to run, then I need to get back to my jewelry orders. I’ve already had a couple of texts from Sheryl. Hiring her to be my assistant was the best thing I ever did, but she’s turning into quite the slavedriver.”

“Just remember you’re the boss. Not her.”

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m not sure if that’s true anymore. Last week she created a log system and is attempting to track how long it takes to make each piece of jewelry. If one necklace takes longer than another, I’m interrogated like a murder suspect. Yesterday, I must have spent at least half an hour explaining you can’t rush these things, and it takes as long as it takes to get it right. Geez, you’d think it was her bottom line, not mine. She’s just my assistant for Pete’s sake.”

“Can’t blame her for exceeding her job title. I know she loves working for you. She told me so just the other week. Said it’s her best job ever. And she’s crazy about the dogs.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s great. Honestly. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. And I do appreciate how she dotes on our hooligan pack. They love her right back, too. It’s nice knowing she can step in and look after them if I get called away on one of your crazy investigations. Four dogs are a little much for most people to handle, but she deals with them just fine.”

“She sure does. Anyway, I’m going to hang for a bit and clear my desk so I’m ready to jump into Jennifer’s investigation first thing tomorrow. I’ll bring home dinner, okay?”

Mia shrugged. “Sure. If you want. But you know I don’t mind cooking.”

He flashed a smile. “And you know I don’t mind you cooking either. But you’re busy and you did me a solid today sitting in on the consult. The least I can do is take that off your plate.”

“Great. What were you thinking?” She paused and shook her head. “No, don’t tell me. I like the surprise.”

It was almost two hours later when Roman arrived home with Vietnamese takeout. Mia opened one of the containers and happily inhaled the aroma.

“Vegan pad thai. You know my weakness.”

“Always got you covered, babes.”

Although it was after seven o’clock, the heat was still formidable, so they ate inside, with the dogs—still panting from a playtime session with Mia—sprawling around the cool floor of the kitchen.

“Did you start on Eliza yet?”

“Nope. But I did bring her file home. I may give it a look-over tonight just to get my mind in the game.” He took a bite of satay chicken and studied Mia while he chewed. “I think we should talk about a prenup.”

Her head snapped up. “What? Why? If you think I’ll dump you then take you to the cleaners financially … well … I don’t—”

“Hey. Simmer down. That’s not at all what I’m thinking. I’m not worried about my money. You know I did okay as a detective, but we’re talking low end of okay. And since then, I’ve been living off savings while I get my business up and running. Things are going better these last few months—mostly thanks to you, by the way—but I’m hardly rolling in the green here. It’s your assets that need to be protected. I’m the one who could be poised to take you to the cleaners. You’re pretty rich, right?”

Mia stared at him, unblinking. “I guess. But you would never do that. It didn’t even enter my mind before.”

He nodded. “Sure. But we’ve been all rosy-cozy so far. Everything’s great between us. Easy sailing, right?”

“Hardly.” She let out a snort. “Are you forgetting how you almost kicked me to the curb when you found out about my past? Then a couple of months ago, I went behind your back to help my dad and dragged you into that mess with the Russian mafia. And during that time, I buddied up with my ex-boyfriend. The past eighteen months have basically been a marine-style obstacle course, if you ask me.”

Roman smiled full out. “Okay, sure, we’ve had a couple of bumps along the way. But you didn’t buddy up to Dean. You were forced into working with him. Entirely different.” He waved a hand in the air. “It’s all in the past, but what I said is still true. If—God, forbid—we break up down the road, I stand to gain a lot of money. It only makes sense to safeguard yourself.”

“But we’re not going to break up. This is it for me. You’re it for me.” She fisted a hand against her heart. “I want us to work and I’m all in.”

“Me too. But the reality is half of all marriages end in divorce. You need to think about this. Seriously. It’s the smart thing to do.”

“I don’t want to think about it. The idea of a prenup makes me feel sad. Like we’re already acknowledging we’re not going to make it. That’s not how I want to start our marriage, with one eye on the exit.”

“But it would make me feel better. Like sometime down the road there’s no way, if I’m really, really hurt, I can lash out and hurt you back. I love you so much, sometimes it makes me afraid, you know?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be afraid of love. You taught me that. Love is always good. Always kind. And I don’t, for one hot minute, worry you’ll go after my money.”

“That’s nice to hear but I still want you to think about the prenup. Do it for me and for love.”

She sighed then took his hand. “Okay. I’ll think about it. Promise.” She leaned over and laid a gentle kiss on his lips then tilted her head to study him again. “If this case is going to get you all twisted up about our wedding, maybe you shouldn’t take it.”

“I’m not twisted up. And I’d already been thinking about us having a prenup. Talking with Jennifer today just brought it out in the open, that’s all.”

“Okay. But I’ll be watching you, my friend. I don’t want you going to the dark side on me.”

“No dark side over here. Nothing but unicorns and rainbows. I swear.”

After dinner, Roman elected to leave Eliza’s file in his office, untouched, and spend a lazy night on the couch with Mia and popcorn and a movie. After their conversation, it seemed right.

And, honestly, he just wanted to be near her. Reassure himself. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but it was as if, by voicing his fears, he’d somehow given them power. He needed to shut that down fast. He and Mia were fine. Their relationship was solid. Why open the door to trouble and invite the bastard in?

***

On the dot of nine o’clock the next morning, Roman sat at his desk in his office in town and took a sip from a takeout coffee. He pulled the Lamb file out of his bag and opened it in front of him. Jennifer had been thorough, he noted, quickly reading the sheet she’d prepared on Eliza. She’d even printed out a photograph and attached it to the inside of the folder using a paper clip adorned with a butterfly.

In the picture, a young woman and man stood together. He had his arm around her shoulder while she smiled up at him. They each held a flute of champagne in their hands. On the back someone had written, Scott and Eliza toasting their engagement .

Eliza was stunning. Petite. Curvaceous. Long, silky black hair hung to her waist, and her skin was creamy and luminous. Her plump lips gleamed crimson and extravagant lashes framed big, light-colored eyes. Maybe blue. Maybe green. It was hard to be certain from the picture.

The man, by contrast, was average looking with a big dash of geek thrown in. Tall, angular, with a slightly stooped posture, he had the type of body composition that even if he pumped iron morning, noon, and night, he’d never be considered built. He was definitely punching above his weight with Eliza and must surely be in heaven every time he looked at her.

Roman read down the neatly typed fact sheet. Eliza’s surname was Wentworth. She was currently twenty-three years old. She owned a condo in The Gulch section of Nashville. Those didn’t come cheap. She hadn’t attended college and appeared to have no regular occupation other than Instagram and TikTok.

Was that really an occupation? Roman wondered.

Eliza’s parents, Stephanie and Phillip, were deceased. They’d died in a car crash a year and a half ago. She had one sibling, Maryanne. Also deceased. Roman’s brows drew together when he read that Maryanne’s death had been a suicide ten months ago in her Darby College dorm room.

Losing a sibling was brutal. The ghost of his sister, Anita, hovered, and he felt that familiar pinch in his heart.

Okay. That was a lot for Eliza to go through. And since, according to the fact sheet, there were no close relatives in the area, she was essentially alone in the world.

He turned to his laptop and googled Stephanie and Phillip Wentworth. Immediately, his screen populated with news headlines of a tragic crash on Galen Street in Walkerton. He clicked on a couple of the links and read about a dark, rainy night and the collision with a Ford F250 pickup when Stephanie, the driver of the Nissan Pathfinder, swerved into the oncoming lane. The truck driver survived with minor bumps and bruises while Stephanie died on scene and Phillip succumbed to his injuries during the ambulance ride to the hospital.

There were multiple follow-up articles about the tragic circumstances of the couple’s death and the financial situation of their surviving daughters. Apparently, the Wentworths had recently started a business and put all their cash and savings into the project. Their online heirloom seed packet idea was beginning to bear fruit in the months preceding their deaths but hadn’t really reached any kind of reliable stability in the income department.

This left the two girls with the family home, although there was a small second mortgage remaining along with a couple of months’ worth of expenses in savings. They also each had an education fund set up by their maternal grandparents who’d been dead for almost a decade.

On Phillip’s side, his mother had also passed but his father still walked the earth. According to the info Jennifer had provided, Jerry Wentworth was living up north in Michigan in a trailer park with his sixth wife. He hadn’t shown any interest in helping his granddaughters, nor did he have the financial means to offer them support.

Roman found a GoFundMe page set up for the girls by someone named Tracey Millar. He searched through the social sites and discovered she’d been a friend of Maryanne Wentworth and had also attended Darby College. A hundred thousand dollars had been raised. He made a note of the names of the five couples who had donated the largest sums.

He scrolled through Tracey Millar’s Instagram. In the months since her friend had died, she’d posted weekly pictures of herself with Maryanne and written about the many memories they’d made together. There was mention of the excitement of both getting into Darby College and shopping together for dorm room items. A trip to New York taken two summers ago. Meeting up one Christmas break to skate at the Ford Ice Center just outside of Nashville. Tracey obviously missed her friend, and the grief poured straight off the screen and into Roman’s heart.

Roman studied the images of Maryanne Wentworth then sighed. She’d been so young. Only twenty-two when she took her own life.

Frowning, he referred back to the sheet Jennifer had given him. Meaning, Maryanne and Eliza were the same age. They must’ve been twins. Except, while very attractive, Maryanne was not quite in the same league as Eliza.

He held the picture up next to the screen of the laptop and studied the two girls. Different shape to their noses. Eliza had a more defined jawline, and her lips were bow-shaped next to Maryanne’s softer curved lines. Definitely a strong resemblance, but they weren’t identical. So fraternal twins then.

It was hard enough losing a sibling to suicide, especially so soon after being orphaned, but wasn’t the twin bond supposed to be especially strong? This must have gutted Eliza. No wonder she was latching on to Scott. Money or not, it was understandable. She needed family and stability after everything she’d been through, and who could blame her for it?

Well, Jennifer could, he supposed.

From her point of view, a grieving and emotionally wounded—potentially damaged—young woman was hardly ideal as a marriage partner for her son. It’d have been worrying enough if they were long-time, established friends with plenty of history together, but having only just met it seemed foolish for Scott to plan a life with Eliza under such circumstances.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and blew out a breath. He could see the angle from both sides of the equation. This was shaping up to be a crappy case. Maybe Mia was right about wading in the darkness. Did he really want to stir up all Eliza’s pain—most likely hurting her in the process—just to figure out if she was after Scott’s money?

But someone needed to look out for Scott too, right?

And that was the job he’d been hired to do, after all. Jennifer was the client, not Eliza. And all she wanted was to make sure her son wasn’t walking into the biggest mistake of his life.