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

Chapter Four

The next afternoon, Mia put down her jewelry making tools and rolled her shoulders. She glanced around the workroom and noticed her four canine companions had come alert and eyed her with hopeful gazes. Yep. It was time. And she needed the break.

“I’m going to take the dogs out for a bit,” she told Sheryl.

“No, problem, boss. I’ve just about got the orders packed up. You going to finish that necklace today?”

Mia ran a finger over the trio of rose quartz stones. The piece wasn’t right yet but she was having trouble concentrating. The stones just weren’t talking to her. She knew from long experience she wouldn’t feel any of their vibrational life forces until she could open herself fully.

And that wasn’t going to happen until she cleared her damn mind. Otherwise, the necklace would be beautiful but was unlikely to connect with the client who needed help healing from an ugly breakup. She was damned if she’d ship an inferior product.

“Nope. It’s still not right. I’ll put some more time in on it later today. First, I need to take the dogs out and clear my head.”

Sheryl shrugged. “Okay. But it looks real pretty to me.”

Outside, the air was hot and heavy but at least there was a strong breeze. Pulling an elastic from her wrist, she gathered her hair off her neck, twisted it into a messy knot, and secured it to the top of her head. She unzipped her fanny pack and fished out several balls, quickly winging them through the air then watched with amusement when the dogs scrambled away to claim their prizes.

She led them along the shady tree line of the field behind the house and finally to the small, wooded lot at the back of the property. Mosquitoes and other hungry insects gathered around her head and she waved her arms half-heartedly to discourage them, all the while knowing the battle had already been lost. She was going to lose a small percentage of her blood no matter what she did.

She walked slowly, almost meditatively, weaving through the trees while instinctively keeping track of her pack who ran, rolled, and wrestled in absolute delight after a day spent mostly inside. They didn’t worry about the bugs … or the mud, for that matter. Her lips pressed together when all four of them streaked through the small brook. There’d be lots of cleaning up in aisle ‘dirty paws’ when she got home.

But it didn’t really bother her. Dogs gotta dog, right? It was all part of the guardian contract she’d mentally signed the moment she adopted Mac. The tall, lanky Doberman had been her first fur child.

And, if she was being totally honest, he was still her favorite. There was something about the way he’d made her the center of his world. The center of his very happiness. The others loved her, she never doubted it for a second, but with Mac, she sensed he’d rather die than be without her.

It was a heady feeling—the total and unconditional love he offered. And the first taste of true connection she’d ever experienced. In fact, now that she thought about it, if not for Mac and all he’d taught her about love, she’d never have allowed Roman into her life.

Not properly, all-the-way in.

She’d have kept the relationship superficial and certainly kept her real self hidden. And wouldn’t that have been a shame, because their partnership—their love—was amazing. A true miracle. Something she’d never thought possible for someone like her.

And now, here they were, just a little over two months away from getting married and stepping into their happily ever after.

She squatted down and was immediately enveloped by dogs. Wet, muddy dogs with slobbery balls and sticks in their mouths. She laughed and rubbed her hands over furry backs before turning to Mac—who always took the place of prominence at her side—and hugged him close.

“Thanks, buddy. You’ve helped me get the best life ever and I can never repay you.”

He gave her a single, dignified lick on the cheek then stared straight into her eyes, the amber-colored irises seeming to glow with emotion.

“I know. I love you too,” she murmured before blowing out a breath. “Okay. No more sloppy Hallmark moments. We’re tougher than that, right? And besides, we have to talk about Roman.”

She got to her feet and everyone except Mac scattered to continue enjoying their playtime. Meanwhile, the Doberman kept pace with her slow march, occasionally brushing against her thigh as though trying to add extra support.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” she continued. “This Eliza case is going to be bad. I feel it in my bones. I don’t want Roman getting mixed up in it. But what right do I have to dictate his life?”

She sighed and her hand rested on Mac’s head. “I know. Zero, right? Everyone has to forge their own path. Which leads to my next problem. It’ll go better if I help him but—oh, man—I so don’t want to. I’m working really hard here to stay in the light, and when I get involved in these cases … I don’t know … I feel some of the darkness rub off on me. Like it stains my skin and I can’t wash it away afterward. I know Roman understands on an intellectual level, but he doesn’t truly know how it feels. So, what should I do?”

Mia bowed her head as she walked and slowly exhaled. She already knew the answer. Now she had to accept it while letting go of her resentment. Relationships were sometimes hard, she’d learned. And right now was a prime example.

She and Roman had been going to Pre-Cana classes with Father Francis at St. Peter’s church and they’d talked about this a lot. About how loving partners supported one another, sometimes sacrificing their own wants and needs for the good of the union. But how far was she supposed to take this sacrifice? Especially when it put her own self at risk.

You could damn well bet she was going to raise that topic during their next session, because it felt like her side of the teeter-totter was getting weighed all the way down and might never rise up again.

And this case was hardly an isolated incident. Roman was going to take on another case after Eliza’s, and then another. And lots of the cases would be dark and potentially dangerous. She’d need to figure out how to navigate this minefield without sacrificing either herself or their relationship.

The big monstrous question—the one that sometimes kept her awake at night—once again reared its ugly head. Was it even possible to navigate something like this? That’s what troubled her the most. Could a recovered alcoholic live peacefully with a hard-core partier? What about a gambling addict who marries a Vegas casino manager?

This seemed like a crossroad to her. Like if it wasn’t figured out, she and Roman might not make it. And that scared her more than slipping back into the darkness.

She shook her head. The overall problem had been identified and vocalized. Now she’d work her way toward a solution.

In the meantime, she couldn’t sit on her hands with the Eliza case. Helping or not helping would both feel awful but at least by helping, she could keep an eye on Roman. Make sure he stayed safe.

***

“Any progress on Eliza’s background check?” Mia asked Roman over dinner that night.

“Some.” He arched a brow and studied her face. “I thought you were out. No more cases.”

She gave a careless half shrug. “I haven’t decided. And even if I was out, doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.”

“Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to make this harder on you than it has to be.”

She sliced off a chunk of baked potato and chewed slowly before nodding. “I’m sure. Don’t you want my help?”

“Of course. I always want your help. You’re the best.” He paused and sighed. “So far, I feel sad for Eliza. In the last eighteen months, she lost her parents in a car crash and her sister died by suicide. I know what it’s like to lose family members. How it rips at you and sours every part of your life. The thought of losing three in such a short span of time would be crippling.”

“That’s tragic. The poor girl.”

“Yeah. Exactly. But on the other hand, I understand why Jennifer maybe doesn’t want Scott marrying Eliza. Even with the gold-digging part pushed to the side, she comes with a lot of emotional baggage. My loyalty has to be with Jennifer. She’s the client, and client is king. Which means I’m going to have to go digging around in Eliza’s life and potentially causing her a lot of pain in order to do this job.”

“Do you think there’s anything to dig?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve only scratched the surface. You have an Instagram account, right?”

“Sure. For the business. I don’t post anything personal. In fact, I don’t think I’ve even shown my face on the page. Mostly it’s pictures of finished jewelry or piles of crystals. Stuff like that. I have it linked to my Shopify store, and I get a bunch of orders every month straight from there. Free advertising. A total win-win.”

“Well, Eliza is all over the Gram. I think that’s what the cool kids call it. And also TikTok. She posts at least a couple of times a day. I’m look through the accounts tonight. I figure it’ll give me a feel for her and what she’s up to.”

“Why don’t I have a look, too? You never know, I might get a hit.”

He smiled. “Yeah? That’d be great.”

Upstairs in the home office, Roman booted up the laptop while Mia dragged a second chair over to the desk.

“She calls herself High Vibe Eliza. Cute right?” he said, bringing up Instagram and navigating to her account.

Mia studied the feed as Roman scrolled down. The palette of all the photos on her account was cohesive. Lots of white and gold and natural light. Eliza wore gauzy, flowy items—skirts, dresses, harem pants—and almost exclusively clothed herself in light colors. White led the pack, but there were some taupe and light grey and even butter yellow outfits. Her long, dark hair was always down and loose and her makeup on point.

The theme boiled down to luxury and abundance. She posed carrying high-end handbags and wearing fabulously fancy sunglasses. Shots taken in her kitchen were bathed in sunlight so that the gold rims of the plated food and the bronze hardware of the cabinets seemed to glow.

Lush bunches of flowers in delicate vases populated practically every at-home picture and made Mia wonder if her entire house was some sort of mad flower market. She had too many shag pillows. Too many throw blankets and area rugs … yet somehow it all worked.

Mia couldn’t stop her heart from leaping when she saw a post of Eliza with a black-and-tan Miniature Pinscher. “Oh my God, how cute is that little guy? He looks like a mini version of Mac. Click on it.” She read the text aloud. “ Today my whole life changed. I want to welcome Jean Paul Gaultier to our Vibers family. Or JP for short. #dreamsrealized #myperfectlife . She loves dogs so she can’t be all bad, right?”

Roman lifted his hands off the keyboard in mock surrender. “You’re so right. Since Eliza’s a dog lover I guess there’s no need to investigate. I’ll take this info to Jennifer and collect my money.”

“Ha ha. You’re such a funny guy. But seriously. She can’t be a total psycho when she has little JP.”

“Do I need to reference Hitler and his Dobermans again?”

She made a growling sound. “No. Just keep scrolling already.”

Roman clicked on a few more posts and read the accompanying text.

“ Every day can be magical. Just make the decision to live with beauty .”

“ Manifest your perfect life. It all starts with mindset .”

“ Don’t forget you are a mf miracle and you deserve the best .”

There were multiple lines of hashtags included with every post. #liveinabundance. #manifestlikeaMF #yourperfectlifestartsnow #imagineyourreality.

Eliza’s TikTok account was similar. The same types of content but repackaged into short video clips set to music. He switched back to Instagram, and Mia pointed to the top row where the most recent posts were located.

“Nice close-up of the diamond. She’s clearly not hiding her engagement to Scott,” she said.

“More like flaunting it. Though I noticed there aren’t any pictures of his face. He’s always in silhouette. I wonder if that’s coming from her or him. Maybe he doesn’t like being photographed and splashed all over social media.”

“Go back to around the time her sister died. Let’s see if she addressed it in any way.”

Roman scrolled for a time then flicked a glance at Mia. “Jesus. We’re only at the beginning of the Summer. That’s a hell of a lot of content. It could take days to go back the ten months.”

“Suck it up, soldier.”

“Okay. I think we’ve got something,” he said finally. “That’s Maryanne. They were twins by the way. Though obviously not identical.”

Mia studied the photograph. “Judging from her clothes, Maryanne was clearly not into the abundant lifestyle.”

“What do you mean? She looks okay to me.”

“Yeah. Jeans and a pink sweater. It’s fine. But Eliza wouldn’t be caught dead in that outfit. You saw the stuff she was wearing. And I can promise you, the labels were all high end. Prada, Gucci, YSL, and, yes, Jean Paul Gualtier were all mixed into her photos along with about a million other big, expensive designers.”

“Let’s see what Eliza said.” Roman clicked on the post and read aloud. “ We lost an angel. Fly high my dearest sister . And then she added another boatload of hashtags.”

“Nothing about suicide though. And she shut off comments, which is interesting.”

“I wonder if she posted about her parents.” He began scrolling again. “I’m probably going to end up with repetitive strain injury just doing the research on this case.”

“It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.” Mia patted his shoulder before turning in her chair and glancing around the room. “You know, I never got around to decorating this room. We should really spruce things up in here. It needs to be painted something other than stark white, and you could use some art. Actual window dressings would be nice, too.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he mumbled.

She rubbed Mac’s back with her bare foot, and he sighed and glanced up at her, his eyes clear and bright. Fifi, the Pomeranian, lay by Mac’s side while the dachshund and the labrador shared a dog bed along the far wall. It was already after nine o’clock and everyone was ready to settle down for the night. Herself included.

Mia did a quick internal check-in with herself. It turned out she was glad she’d decided to lend a hand on the case. And thrilled that it seemed routine. Eliza was probably nothing more than Jennifer feared. A money-grabber with her eyes fixed firmly on the good life. Not ideal but hardly dangerous, except to Scott’s bank account.

She, herself, was no stranger to wanting the fancy. Only last week hadn’t she spent just a little too much on a gorgeous linen and silk dress? But the fabric had been so soft, and the green color reminded her of lush summer grass and set off her eyes. And when she slipped it on, she honest to God felt like royalty.

“Okay. I’ve got something. Talk about a different tone,” Roman said.

Mia swiveled back to the computer. On the screen was a closeup picture of fingernails. They’d been painted with gold nail polish with navy flecks overlaid on the top. Eliza had written ‘Go for the gold in every aspect of your life.’

“How is this about her parents?” she asked.

“It’s not. But this was posted on the day after they died.”

“Okay. Maybe she had it scheduled. I do that all the time. I’ll make up a bunch of content and use this software called Buffer to create my monthly posts. That way I can set it and forget it.”

Roman nodded then continued scrolling for a few seconds. “Okay. I can buy that. But even three weeks later there’s still no mention of them. Someone following Eliza’s account would never know she lost her parents. That seems off to me.”

“Or maybe she wanted to keep it private. She’s using this account to build her brand, and her brand is all about luxury and abundance and living your best life. Even the stuff she included about her engagement to Scott is slanted from that angle. Like, hey, look at this kick-ass ring my super-rich boyfriend bought me. See, I’m walking the walk. This mindset stuff works and if you follow me you, too, can get an engagement ring the size of a walnut.”

“I’m not exactly an expert on this stuff, but I’d have to say the style of content changed after their death.” His eyes stayed on the screen while he scrolled. “See, before there were lots of makeup tutorials and hair styling routines. She titled some of the posts, ‘Best Drug Store Picks for Concealer’ and ‘Opulent Skin Care on a Budget’. Then later, it’s all oozing wealth and top designers.”

“Except for that one single post she put up about Maryanne. Did you say her parents died in a car crash?”

“Yep.” He opened another tab and typed into the search bar. “Here. It got a lot of local media coverage.”

Mia leaned toward the screen and began reading the article, all the while trying to ignore the way her stomach flip-flopped and her shoulders tightened. She paged down and stared at the photograph of the couple before mumbling “Crap” under her breath.

“What’s crap?”

Turning to face him, she sighed. “I think Eliza had something to do with the death of her parents.”