Chapter 13 #3
“You’re, uh…” I try not to study the beautiful images on display: of Justin and his daughters in their younger years, Justin and his wife, Janine.
Justin and his granddaughter. Janine and the girls.
Janine and her granddaughter. Justin atop the steps out front of the mayor’s office.
Jen in her graduation cap and gown. His other daughter, Tabitha, in her cap and gown.
Tabby and her husband on their wedding day.
Tabby and her husband with a brand-new baby.
Jen and her husband on their wedding day.
Jen and her husband, but they’re not posing, exactly.
Rather, Corey holds her around the waist, his eyes twinkling with love, while Jen folds back so far that, if not for him, she’d be splayed on the grass.
Behind them, a dozen horses run in every direction, so they become nothing more than a blur.
Damn, his family is so friggin’ beautiful.
“You want a drink?”
“Yep.” I spin from the wall and pretend like it doesn’t bother me not to have pictures of me and my parents.
I have a couple tucked away in books here and there, but almost all of them are of me and one parent, me and the other parent.
Never my parents together, and always at the hospital.
I certainly don’t have an entire wall of memories. “Alcohol, please.”
Chuckling, he makes his way to a side table and sets the bottle of wine down, then he snags a glass and opens the door on the front of the unit to reveal a small fridge hidden inside. Taking out a chilled bottle of white wine, he turns as though to ask which I’d prefer.
“White, thank you.” I cling to my phone and meander across the living room, swallowing my nerves the closer I come, and extending my hand as he finishes pouring. I bring the glass to my lips and sip purely so I don’t choke on the tension lodged in my throat. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” He closes the fridge, the cupboard door, then he sets the bottle beside the red.
Instead of joining me in the grape section this evening, he grabs a lowball glass and a bottle of whiskey.
“I don’t often drink the good stuff.” He pours just a single finger and recaps the bottle.
“But I consider tonight a special occasion, so I figure, why not?”
“And by special occasion, you mean the strangers in your home and the moral upper ground you’re forced to maintain? Let’s be real: you don’t actually want us here, do you? But you foolishly asked, and now you have no choice but to follow through.”
He picks up his drink and hides a pair of twitching lips behind the crystal. “I have no strangers in my home tonight, and I’ll always celebrate an evening with my family.”
“Where’s, ah…” I grit my teeth and look everywhere. “Where’s Jen? Surely she stays here whenever she’s in town.”
He tips his drink back and downs the lot in a single shot.
The mature, handsome, distinguished mayor of Copeland City isn’t here to sip and savor.
“Typically.” He exhales a gusty breath. I guess his whiskey is a little spicy.
“She was in town earlier for work. As is Sophia and the rest of them. Though I have it on good authority, everyone is on the way.”
I risk a glance at my phone and groan. It’s six-fifty-six! “It seems odd that of all your guests, I’m the one most would expect to be late. And yet, I’m the only one here.”
“Mmm. So odd, huh?” Leaning against the cupboard, he crosses his ankles and folds his arms.
He could model for silver-fox magazine covers if he ever felt like diversifying his income. Objectively speaking, his daughters are obnoxiously beautiful, and they married annoyingly handsome men. It’s not surprising that Justin himself is one of the beautiful people.
Their yearly Christmas card would look weird if he were an ugly duckling and stood out.
“So…” I clear my throat with an awkward cough. “How’s work?”
He chokes out a rumbling laugh. “Aw, ya know how it goes. Running a city, pissing people off. You?”
“Running a morgue.” I click my tongue. “Pissing people off. We’re getting a brand-new security overhaul at the moment, did you know that?”
“Really?” Nope. He did not know that. “At the George Stanley, you mean? Or the house?”
“The George Stanley.” I wander away from the alcohol hutch and head to the couch instead.
Not to sit. Definitely not to sit. But to lean against the back.
“Sophia works in the tech industry and generously donated an entire redo to our building.” Sip, sip, sip your wine, Minka.
Faster! “I would’ve run it by you, but she’s doing it for free, so I figured… ”
Nothing. I figured nothing. I shrug. “Turns out we need an entire mother-ship setup to run the computers she’s giving us, which means the fifteenth floor is no longer underutilized.”
“Oh, well…” He tips his glass up and desperately searches for the last remaining droplet of booze he didn’t get with the first swig. “That was very generous of her. Jen said they were in town for work, but Checkmate is a multifaceted company, and ‘work’ could mean all manner of things.”
You mean, like maybe they’re here to install a computer… or kill someone? “Multifaceted, indeed.” I smile behind the lip of my glass. “So…”
“Oh my goodness. You two are hopeless.” Janine bustles into the room with a messy apron wrapped around her hips, while beneath it, she wears a crisp dark navy dress that exposes her shoulders and cinches her in at the waist. Unlike Justin, she walks straight up to me and takes my hand, tugging me in for a peck on my cheek.
A peck on the other side. “Thank you for coming, Chief Mayet. Justin.” She clicks her fingers and points toward the front of the house. “We have guests. Go.”
He takes off like a freakin’ rocket, and though I could swear there’s not much in the world less comfortable than a Minka and Justin conversation, I’m left with the horrifying realization that a Minka and Janine conversation is way worse.
“Uh…”
“Hopeless.” She shakes her head. “Anyone would think a woman as successful as you, one who commands her own building, would come with excellent people skills.”
“On the contrary.” I gently pry my hand from hers and sip-sip-sip. “My success came on the back of a lottttt of years studying all alone in a library, and my medical experience is with dead people. Up to this point in my life, I haven’t needed people skills at all.”
“Well, then let’s hope you’re a quick study.” She flashes a bright smile and turns to face the entryway as, like a friggin’ tsunami, people flood into the room.
“Oh, good. Chief Mayet’s already here.” Soph carries a small human child on her left hip, a wide grin on her face, and a second human child, bigger than the first, attached to her free hand.
Both human children wear tutus like we’re headed to the theater after dinner.
The smaller one has her hair in pigtails, one on each side of her head, while the other simply looks a little wild.
Like maybe her parents wanted to brush her hair, but she wouldn’t allow it.
Not even Jay Bishop is brave enough to challenge the miniature ballerina.
“You look appropriately flustered, Chief.” Soph smacks a noisy kiss to the smaller girl’s cheek and twists as, behind her, Jay wanders in.
Then Jen and Corey. Corey holds another little girl’s hand, but seeing as how I don’t believe Jen is a mom, I don’t think the kid is theirs.
Spencer meanders in next: no kids, no wives. Then Theo Griffin: no kids, no wives.
Though I know both are married.
“Everyone knows everyone, right?” Janine wipes her hands on her apron and stands on her toes to get a look at everyone piling in. “Oh, Seraphina, dear. Come on in.”
My heart trips with nerves as I do as Janine did.
I stand on my toes and search for a familiar face amongst a sea of…
well, familiar faces. Fifi moves hesitantly through the crowd, her willow green eyes locking onto mine, but as she comes to the front and reveals her hand wrapped around Mia’s, I lower to flat feet and grin.
“Aunty Minka!” She pulls poor Fifi through no man’s land, her smile bright and beautiful and, as she leans closer, conspiratorial. Lowering her voice, she cups her mouth and whispers, “I didn’t do it yet, Aunty Minka. I didn’t kick him. But I’m gonna.”
“Mia.” Fifi furrows her brows with disapproval. “No, baby. We don’t kick the mayor.”
Mia simply shoots me a sneaky wink.
“We have so many fun extras tonight, huh?” Soph meanders forward with her daughters, but even as she approaches, she glances back to the other, older girl.
“Junebug, you wanna come over here for a sec?” She comes to a stop in front of us and lowers into a crouch, so by the time Junebug arrives, Soph has the smallest ballerina settled on her thigh.
“Mia Fletcher, I brought some friends for you to play with. My daughter, Elle.” She gestures toward the feral ballerina.
“She was my first baby, and sometimes she can look kinda scary, but I promise,” she wrinkles her nose, “she’s pretty amazing.
” Then she looks to the one on her thigh.
“This is my Claire Bear. My second baby. She’s a little quieter than her sister, but she’ll probably run the world in a few more years, so I try to stay on her good side.
” Finally, she inches to the right and glances up at the third.
“This is Juniper. June. Junebug. Bug. Junie. Little G. Take your pick.” She brings dancing eyes back to Mia.
“She’s my friend’s little girl. June’s mom owns a whole bakery and bakes me yummy cakes every single day.
That makes me especially happy. Her stepdad is Preston, and Preston works at my company.
Everybody.” She studies her babies, June, then back to Mia.
“This is Mia Fletcher. Her daddy is a policeman, and he’s…
” She casts a curious glance over her shoulder. “I dunno. Somewhere.”