Chapter 14 Hughes
HUGHES
Adate! I have a date. Shit, I have a date. I need to plan something, figure out topics of conversation, pick a pizza place. “You’re not gluten-free, are you?”
Ooh, she makes a face. “I respect all dietary choices, but bread and cheese are my two major food groups, and I cannot have—”
“Don’t worry, our future children will come out of the womb eating pizza rolls.”
Did I seriously just talk about impregnating her? She’s going to think I’m a pervert. Though with the way that sweater hugs her curves, she wouldn’t be far off.
“Well, I can’t wait for you to give me that baby, then,” she jokes.
As I pick up the entire sleigh and set it on the front porch, Willow’s eyes widen.
“You want it here, right? Or I can take it around back.”
“No, here is good. I have to put them on the mantel and around the stairs.”
“Okay, cool. I can come over later to help you,” I offer.
“Oh, are you off?”
“I, um—” I clear my throat. “If you must know, I am going to go get a warmer coat.”
Nana is humming in the kitchen and baking when I step in and shake the snow off my collar.
“I saw you moved your things out.” She kisses me noisily on the cheek. “Good boy. We’re officially booked up for the rest of the Christmas season! I’m going to do a Galentine’s special in February. Oh, this is a merry Christmas!” She adds peppermint bits into the batter.
“You making a cake for the ugly-sweater party?” I sample the batter.
“Oh, this is just for our Airbnb guests. It’s the breakfast part of the B-and-B. I’m making a bonfire spiced Bundt.” She pulls out a Ken doll. “Doesn’t that look like Jonah? We’ll douse it with bourbon and light it on fire at midnight!”
“Nana…”
She beams at me.
For a minute, all I can think about are those citations that Jonah made against my nana. She’s an old lady, I tell myself. There’s no way that she’s murdered a middle-aged man. That’s not even physically possible, right?
“Nana, I don’t think that we should be celebrating Jonah’s death. People might think one of us killed him. I’m trying to investigate his murder.”
“Oh, shoot.” Nana licks her finger. “I dropped the spoon.” She grabs the stove and starts to drag it.
“I’ll get it.”
Nana shoos me away. “I’ve been lifting weights down at the community center.”
The stove scrapes as Nana pulls it away from the wall. I grimace. Maybe she could have killed Jonah. She’s strong enough.
“I just think”—I gently take the Ken doll—“that it would be a little disrespectful, considering Jonah just passed away. His family is still grieving.”
“Who, Lenore?” She snorts. “She won’t give a shit.”
“Yeah, I heard Lenore had a lot to gain by his death,” I say lightly, wondering if Nana will give me the small-town senior gossip.
“A lot to gain? That’s underselling it.”
“Yeah, that life insurance policy was like a million dollars.”
“Oh.” Nana laughs as she scrapes the bowl.
“That’s nothing. She’s lucky he was too busy trying to ruin people’s livelihoods to run off with another woman and divorce her.
She inherited tens of millions from her childless aunt, plus a number of properties around town that the Svenssons are highly interested in purchasing.
I bet she never marries again. Can’t have a man after your assets.
Present company notwithstanding. I know you won’t run off with a woman’s hard-earned money.
You have your own, don’t you, dear?” She pats my arm.
“Don’t worry about Jonah. No one liked him.
Now, are you staying at a sweetheart’s house for the winter holidays? ”
I think of Willow. Was she just joking? Does she really want me to stay with her? Was it flirting? I wish I’d just kissed her in the bakery, let my hands drift over her curves. “Uh—”
“You need to get on it,” Nana tuts. “There’s a new girl back in town—Mrs. Locke’s granddaughter. She’s a nice girl. Very pretty. Went to California and really toned up. I’d kill for that behind.” She laughs to herself. “Kill.”
It makes my stomach flip-flop. “Where’s my coat?”
“Your trench?” She wipes her hand on a towel.
“My red one.”
“Oh, wonderful. You’ll look so handsome in that. I even embroidered some snowflakes on it. I wanted it to be more festive and fun for you. And I was just at old Mrs. Banner’s house—she made you a matching hat and mittens.”
“Great. Sounds warm. I’m heading over to Willow’s.”
“Take the ham over there. It’s in the garage fridge.”
I relax as I step out into the cold and flex my arms in the coat. It’s nice to be warm, though I do look dumb in this puffy jacket. There’s even a little Rudolph at the edge. I look like I’m one of the Christmas market cops.
“Hughes!”
Fuck. I stand stock-still, but of course, Taylor Grace sees me in the bright-red coat.
“I need you to know that I’m feeling very stressed.” She lays into me, saying, “I need to know what’s going on with the investigation.”
“Well, we’re working on it.”
“We? We who?” Taylor Grace pounces on the word.
“I mean I am working on it,” I backtrack.
“What is this?” She thumbs the jacket. “What are you wearing?”
Jesus.
“Just a warmer coat.”
“But why? Why are you wearing it?”
“It’s cold.”
“Yes, but why are you wearing this coat?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Why are you dodging the question?”
“I’m not. I just answered.”
Talking to her is disorienting—like being trapped in a riptide.
“It’s Willow, isn’t it? She told you to wear this, didn’t she? Did she do this embroidery?” The tears fill her eyes. “You don’t understand what I’m going through right now. I need a strong man, a leader in my life.”
I start trying to edge around her. It’s hard with the oversized pan of ham.
“You’re gaslighting me. This is what Jonah warned me about.” Her eyes are wide and crazy.
“He warned you about me?”
“He was jealous.” She raises a fluttering hand to her forehead. “He could tell that I’m so deeply in love with you. I think—I think—” She leans up to me. “I think we’re soulmates.”
I stand frozen solid, even with the warm jacket, as she grabs my shoulder and my jaw and kisses me noisily, moaning.
“Um,” I stammer. “I really do think that’s—oh, shit.”
Willow stands at the end of my grandmother’s walkway and stares me down. She looks hurt. “I just had to drop this off.”
“Willow—”
She doesn’t respond, just dumps the bag and flees.