Chapter 12
Wendy was bored out of her mind. She’d read, watched TV, and played a few games on her phone. Maybe after she worked her way through the contraband bag of cookies she was munching on, she’d nap. Yeah, a nap sounded perfect. Contrary to popular belief, it didn’t take much to thrill her. Some food. Good sleep, the kind where you woke up with drool making your cheek stick to the pillow. A soft pair of yoga pants that would never see a yoga class. No social obligations whatsoever...
And now she could add being pregnant. Because even though she was currently little more than a vessel for Rose, Ivy, and Daisy—maybe?—people were treating her like a pampered princess.
Perking up when she heard someone enter the house, she quickly shoved the bag of cookies behind her pillow. “If you’re a robber,” she yelled, “take whatever you want, but please bring me a Popsicle first! Chocolate. No, wait! Vanilla! Strawberry!”
A few seconds later, Anna appeared in the doorway with a Popsicle. “Strawberry,” she said, and handed it over. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Just growing babies. Nothing to see here.” She smiled as a distraction. “Hey, so what do you think of Rose, Ivy, and Daisy?”
“Cute, especially if you’re a gardener.”
Wendy sighed because they both knew she had the blackest thumb on the planet.
“Maybe you should go with Aurora, Belle, and Jasmin.” Anna stilled, dramatically sniffing the air. “You’ve been eating something.”
“Nope.” Wendy shook her head. “Not me.”
“Uh-huh.” Anna picked something off Wendy’s T-shirt. “And I suppose these cookie crumbs all over you fell from the sky?”
Shit. “These? They’re, um, crumbs from the toast I ate earlier.”
Quick as lightning, Anna reached behind Wendy’s pillow and came up with the family-size bag of cookies. “Wow.”
“Hey, the doctor said in an emergency, I could eat whatever I need.”
“Do tell.”
“I felt cranky,” Wendy said. “Sugar’s good for cranky. Don’t you dare eat those.”
Anna shook her head, clearly unimpressed with the ridiculous lie.
And she was right. Wendy could’ve done better. “They’re dark chocolate chip,” she said in her defense. “Which everyone knows is healthy. Plus, the babies love it when I eat healthy. And they taste like heaven.”
“Did they also taste like shame?”
Wendy sighed. “Maybe a little.”
Anna perched a hip on her bed. “How are you really?”
“How am I?” Wendy gestured to herself. “Look at me. I’m wider than a house. I can’t see them, but my toes feel like sausages. My nipples hurt. And my va-jay-jay is having a lot of feels.”
Anna grimaced.
“Hey, you asked.”
“My mistake. Are you getting up every hour to take a lap?”
“I can’t get out of bed. My blankets have accepted me as one of their own, and if I leave now I’ll lose their trust. Do you have any popcorn?”
Anna pulled an apple from her bag and handed it over.
Wendy stared at it. “This is the oddest-looking popcorn I’ve ever seen.”
“Hayden told me not to feed you salty stuff unless you were out of control.”
“Hello!” Wendy raised a hand. “Out of control! Can’t you tell?”
“With you?” Anna shrugged. “I gauge it off how much of the whites of your eyes I can see.”
“Whatever.” Prepregnancy, she’d have pounced on her sister and they’d have wrestled until one of them tapped out, but pouncing was a thing of the past. Just like cookies, wild gorilla sex, and being able to see if she was wearing pants.
“Your bedroom’s a war room,” Anna said, looking around.
Wendy tried to see it through her sister’s eyes and admitted she might have a point. She had a map of the entire area up on one wall, two whiteboards on another, one being their murder board. The other was filled with color-coded sticky notes on what research they had on their suspects so far. Organization wasn’t her strong suit, but she’d channeled her inner Anna and was quite proud of herself.
Or at least she had been until her sister moved around cleaning and straightening up, then reorganized the way Wendy had her notes posted. By the time she was done, everything was lined up and perfectly placed. “You’re a freak, you know that, right?”
Anna snorted. “I do, because you tell me all the time.”
“And I still can’t believe you wouldn’t wear the GoPro to talk to Will.”
“Really? You can’t believe I wouldn’t wear a camera on my forehead into a restaurant where I was trying to be discreet and get information out of a witness?”
Okay, so Wendy supposed she could admit she saw the problem.
“And I called you beforehand, left the line open, and wore an earbud so you could still hear me. It’s not my fault you couldn’t behave.”
“We could get a small camera in a brooch,” Wendy said, eyeing them on Amazon from her phone.
“And maybe if I was ninety, I’d go along with that.” Anna was pacing now. She made yet another pass, then pivoted on a foot to pace the length of Wendy’s bedroom again.
“You’re going to wear out my new Costco runner.”
Another pass.
“At least walk through the kitchen and get me something to eat,” Wendy said.
“You’ve eaten the entire kitchen.”
“Damn. You’re mean when you do that thing you do.”
“What thing?”
“You know what thing. You know exactly what thing. Something good comes along in your life and you sabotage it. Your self-care is zero out of ten.”
“Hey, I exercised this morning. Even did a face mask.” Anna paused. “And okay, so I also had ten thousand milligrams of caffeine and ate eighty pizza rolls.” She sighed. “Sometimes the line between self-care and self-destruction is a fine one.”
“Face it,” Wendy said. “You’re afraid to be loved.”
“Well, that’s just ridiculous.”
“Really? ‘Guys like you aren’t into girls like me’? What was that? Anna, you’re the best person I know.” Dammit, her throat got tight. “The best,” she whispered.
“Wait.” Anna stopped pacing to stare at her. “How did you hear that? I disconnected you before I said that.”
“Well, you missed or something,” Wendy said. “I heard everything until my phone battery died when you got into an Uber.” She sniffed.
Anna froze. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I got something in my eye is all.”
Anna sighed. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’ll stop crying when you start believing in yourself.”
“Not this again.” Anna tossed up her hands. “I believe in myself! Jeez.”
Wendy knew this was only a partial truth. Anna did believe in her worth as it related to her job, friends, and life in general. But when it came to opening her heart, she was 100 percent full of mistrust and closed up tighter than a drum.
“Look,” Anna said, “I said what I did because... well, he pisses me off.”
“Pisses you off, or...”
Anna’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t say it.”
“...makes you all soft and mushy inside?”
“Definitely pissed off.”
Wendy snorted. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“I think you’re still nursing a broken heart, and you’re mad about it. You loved Dad and he died, and you’re mad. Michael broke your heart, and you’re mad at that too—”
“We are so not talking about this.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” Wendy said. “I already know. It’s why you dump everyone who wants to be in your life. You leave before they can.”
Anna crossed her arms. “For the record, I didn’t leave Michael. He went to jail.”
“He was an asshole. So was Adam. And for that matter, so am I for pushing you to find someone when you’re not ready. I’ll back off.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
“Most definitely not.”
With a rough laugh, Anna kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the bed next to Wendy.
Jennifur, who’d been sleeping on Hayden’s pillow, lifted a sleepy head. Anna kissed her snout, then settled, and just like when they’d been little, whenever Anna had needed love, she set her head on Wendy’s shoulder and cuddled in.
Heart melted, Wendy wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tight. For days and weeks and months she’d been stressing that she wouldn’t know how to mom. But right now, right here, with maternal feelings swamping her for her sister and best friend and only blood family, she felt a sense of relief and love so strong it brought tears to her eyes. “I’m going to be okay,” she whispered, not meaning to say it out loud.
“I’m so glad,” Anna said, sounding amused. “And me? Am I going to be okay?”
“TBD.”
They both laughed, and then the babies squirmed in unison against Anna, who let out a little sound of pure love and gently rubbed Wendy’s belly. “We’re going to be outnumbered soon.”
“I know.”
“You scared?”
“Only if you’re planning on running away from me.”
Anna lifted her head and met Wendy’s gaze. “Are you going to make me change disgusting lava poops?”
“No.”
Anna laughed. “Liar.”
Wendy smiled. “I used to change your diapers. Seems only fair you pay me back.”
“Oh sure, play that card.” Anna sat up. “I’m hungry. Going to go raid your kitchen. Need anything?”
“Yes. I need to know why you’re so hard on yourself.”
“For that, we’d need copious amounts of alcohol, but since you’re knocked up, let’s stick to snacks. Hold, please.” She vanished.
Five minutes later, Anna appeared in the doorway with a baking pan.
Jennifur lifted her head again.
“What did you cook that fast?” Wendy asked.
“Cheese, crackers, grapes, flavored freeze-dried snap peas—both barbecue and pickle flavored—olives, just because you have the black jumbo ones, which you know I can’t resist—and oh! You had some sliced deli turkey, which I slathered with cream cheese and rolled up. You are welcome.”
“There’s only two of us—you know that, right?”
“Five,” Anna said on a smirk, gently patting Wendy’s belly.
“And the reason for the huge pan?”
“Couldn’t find a big enough plate.” She climbed back onto the bed, and they dug in. “I should’ve known you’d caught the whole convo. You didn’t ask me about Will after the meeting. And you’ve added him to the suspects.”
“You disagree?”
“No.” Anna looked at her. “You heard what he said about Dad.”
“I did. I just don’t happen to believe him.” Wendy took a faux barbecue chip and sighed in pleasure, as though there weren’t enough salt and trans fats for her system. “Did you know a serving size of regular chips is ten? Ten chips. Total.”
Anna snorted. “I ate at least ten while standing in your pantry, trying to decide what I wanted to eat.”
Wendy laughed. “A serving size should be ‘until you feel better.’”
“Yeah, and then the nutritional information wouldn’t matter because it’s medicinal.”
“Fudging A.” Wendy picked up a turkey-and-cream-cheese roll-up. “You make good snacks. Sometimes I go looking and can’t find anything that I wouldn’t have to actually do work for, so then I lower my snackspectations and eat something I didn’t really want because I was lazy. But you’re never lazy.”
“I feel lazy right now.”
Wendy looked at her. “You deserve to be lazy once in a while.” She waved the roll-up in one hand and a chip in the other. “Okay, let’s hear it. Why you said what you said to Owen.”
“It’s a long story.”
Wendy gestured to her belly. “I’ve got a few weeks. Is it a longer story than a few weeks?”
Anna rolled her eyes.
“You’re better than this,” Wendy said. “Now tell me. I’ll help you start.” Wendy licked remnant cream cheese off her thumb and reached for a stack of crackers. “Your first sentence should begin with the word ‘Owen.’”
“Are you seriously going to touch everything after you just licked your fingers?”
“Yes. Speak.”
“Fine. Let’s look at Owen’s life. He runs an adventure company. He windsurfs in six-foot waves. He climbs mountains. For fun. In comparison, I go to work and shuffle papers.”
“What about the time you busted open an insurance fraud case on a yacht where the owners shot at you when you got caught snooping?”
“That was just unlucky on my part,” Anna said. “I hardly ever get shot at.”
“No, sometimes you’re threatened with a knife.”
Anna shrugged. “My point is that I don’t go seeking excitement, sometimes I just run into it by accident.”
“Are you hearing yourself? That makes it all the more exciting and wild!”
“But that’s the thing, Wen. I don’t want exciting and wild. Adam was exciting and wild, and I tried to keep up with him, but he scared me. And then Michael was a wash-and-repeat. I didn’t learn a thing.”
“They were reckless,” Wendy said. “You were right to be scared. That’s just common sense.” She paused. “And I know what you’re not saying, that Dad was more of the same.”
Anna set down her turkey roll-up. “I couldn’t have loved him more,” she said quietly. “But yeah, he also took a lot of risks, like when we lost our place and had to move. That was...”
“Terrifying,” Wendy agreed, chest tight. “You were only three, and after we moved, you had nightmares for a long time.” She could remember her own nightmares after a few visits from CPS. They could’ve been taken away, but thankfully they weren’t. “He got it together after that though. Got steady work, and things were never that bad again.”
And what neither of them said was maybe that was thanks to a possible whole other source of income they hadn’t known about. “You’re afraid Owen is reckless.”
“What I’m saying is that it doesn’t really matter because I’m not looking for a long-haul sort of guy. This time, whatever happens is just for now, nothing more. I’ve decided I’m going to take all the fun I can get because, well, you’ve seen him. He’s hot, and he makes me feel alive like nobody else has, so I’m just going to savor that for a second, maybe two.”
“Did you forget you walked out on him?” She laughed at the look on Anna’s face. “You did.”
“I’m going to apologize.”
Wendy was quiet for a moment, but she couldn’t hold her tongue. “I feel like you’re settling.”
“And I feel like I’m being smart.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments. Or at least Wendy did, but then she realized Anna was watching her. “What?”
“You’ve been hiding it well, but something’s off. What’s wrong?”
She shrugged. As the big sister, she didn’t want to be weak. “Other than being as big as a house, I’m fine.”
“Now who’s hiding the truth?” Anna asked. “Spill or I’ll take the snacks away. And I could do it too—you can’t run fast enough to catch me.” She eyed Wendy’s massive pregnancy boobs. “At least not without getting a black eye.”
Wendy pushed around the snap peas, wishing they were real chips. “A group of my friends came over yesterday—none of whom have babies yet—and I could tell they were surprised by how big I was, my limitations, and how easily I tired.” She tried to shrug it off.
“You’ve always been the glue that keeps everyone together, and right now you’re probably just too tired.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “Do you know how hard it is to be the extroverted, people-pleasing, everyone’s-best-friend? It doesn’t matter if I’m having a bad day, I always feel like I’ve gotta be upbeat and chipper.”
“Oh, is it hard being so universally beloved?” Anna asked on a laugh. “Listen, it’s because your energy is infectious. You can make or break anyone’s day with just a look. Luckily, you tend to use your powers for good.”
Wendy took that as a compliment, but it was also a burden. When their mom had died, leaving their dad so incredibly heartbroken, she’d made it her own personal mission to be the bright light in the family. But lately, she’d felt like that light had dimmed. The responsibility of keeping her babies healthy and inside her until it was safe for them to come out was really starting to weigh on her. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”
“Not me.” Anna was quiet a moment. “Wait. Do I make you feel that way?”
“Sometimes.”
Anna flinched, and Wendy took her hand. “No, listen. I’ve always wanted to be more like you. Focused. Organized. Driven. I mean, yes, I used to be a teacher, but with the prices of daycare, I doubt I’ll get to go back to it for a while, which means now I’m not even that. I’m just a walking, talking baby carrier.”
Anna smiled. “Did you know I used to try to be more interesting and exciting for you and Dad, so I’d fit in?”
At that, Wendy burst into messy crocodile tears. “I’m so sorry! But you fit. Always. Forever!”
Anna handed her a box of tissues.
Wendy blew her nose. “Just FYI, I agree with Owen. I think Will was lying to you. Dad didn’t do this. No way, no how, and the fact that Will tried to make you think otherwise tells me he knows more than he’s letting on.”
“But what if Dad did do it?”
“How can you ever say that? Dad would never—”
“Wen, the evidence is pointing right at him.”
Wendy shook her head, a cracker stuck in her throat. “But what about Shady Joe? Seems to me, that’s where the evidence is really pointing.”
“Except Dad’s the only one who has been caught with a coin in his possession,” Anna pointed out.
As Anna was leaving Wendy’s, she saw Hayden coming down the street. She waved, then called her sister. “Hey,” she said through her earbuds. “Your hubby’s coming down your street right now.” Reaching over to disconnect without looking, she drove the mile to her place. Stepping out of the car, she checked her phone for messages, then blinked at the realization that once again she hadn’t disconnected from Wendy. Nope, instead, she’d inadvertently hit the hold button.
“Dumb,” she told herself, and took the call off hold. She then went to disconnect the call but froze because... Wendy was talking, presumably to Hayden.
“You mean four,” her sister was saying. “Once I give birth, I’ll have four kids.”
Anna blinked in confusion. Apparently, Hayden did too, because Wendy clarified.
“The triplets and Anna.”
Anna froze. What the—
“Well, you did always want an entire litter,” Hayden said.
Wendy laughed. “True enough.” Then the laughter left her voice. “I worry about her, Hayden.”
“Blanche, Rose, or Dorothy?”
“Not the triplets! And hard no on the Golden Girls.”
Hayden chuckled. “Okay, fine. And why are you worried about Anna?”
Anna knew she should hang up, that Wendy had no idea their phones were still connected, but she couldn’t move.
“I’m worried that with the babies, I won’t have time to take care of Anna too, worried that she won’t be okay. That she’ll spiral again.”
Again...
“Babe, Anna’s a big girl. And you’ve meddled enough.”
“If you’re talking about how I set this whole thing in motion by asking her to figure out the coin’s worth—”
“Which you did to force her on an adventure so she’d get out of her own head—”
“Encourage, not force,” Wendy corrected. “And yes, I do realize how big it all backfired. It’s my own fault that now Dad’s name could be dragged through the mud publicly, destroying his legacy.”
“Yet another reason to stop meddling,” Hayden said, his tone soft and gentle.
Anna had turned to stone, her hand to her heart. Because what. The. Hell.
“I only meant to give her an excuse to have some fun,” Wendy said.
“How’s that working out for you?”
Wendy huffed out a sigh.
“You need to come clean,” Hayden said. “Tell her the truth. That you never meant to put her in a position where she’d have to prove your dad’s innocence.”
“Hello, did you not hear my worry about making her spiral again?”
Hayden murmured something that Anna missed. She didn’t care, because betrayal had hit her square in the chest, stealing her breath, speeding up her heartbeat so that all she could hear was it pounding in her ears. Somehow she managed to disconnect the call and drop her forehead to her front door, which she hadn’t even realized she’d walked to.
... she’ll spiral again...
She gave herself a single moment of pity, then found her spine, straightened it, and went inside.
Clawdia sat in the entryway, her mismatched blue and green eyes narrowed up at her. Probably, she smelled Jennifur on her. The sisters hated each other. The cat sisters, not her and Wendy. Although, there were days...
“I’m late. I’m sorry.” She scooped her up and cuddled her in close, getting a headbutt in the face—Clawdia’s form of affection. “I’m glad you don’t have a cell phone.”
Clawdia began a rumbling purr that sounded like an old muscle car in need of a tune-up. She sat in the bathroom while Anna stripped down and climbed into the favorite part of her condo—her bathtub. The hot, steamy water rose up to her neck, and she leaned her head back with a heavyhearted sigh.
The thing was, she couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed, sad, or mad, though she was making a good play for all three. She’d nearly fallen asleep when a knock came at her door. Nope, there was no one she wanted to see. Not a single soul.
Okay, well, maybe Owen.
When the knock came again, she tried to remember if she had any packages coming. Probably Wendy with new spy gear. With a sigh, she hoisted herself out of the tub, wrapped up in a towel, and padded to the door. Going up on tiptoe, she peered out the peephole and froze.
Not Owen.
Will.
This was turning into a helluva day.
“I can hear you breathing,” Will said.
That was a lie, because she wasn’t breathing at all.
“Can we talk?” he asked through the wood.
“Now’s not a great time. Why don’t we meet at my office—”
“Please, Anna? We were friends once. I’m hoping that means as much to you as it means to me.”
Shit. She turned to her coat closet on her right. It was the height of summer and the night was a warm one, but the only thing she had to cover up with was her full-length down jacket. She pulled it on and zipped it up to her chin. Then she drew a deep breath and opened the front door.
Will took in the hair piled on top of her head, the wisps wet from steam. Then her undoubtedly rosy face and the jacket with her bare feet poking out the bottom. He arched his brows.
“I was in the tub,” she said. And was that alcohol she smelled on him? “What can I do for you?”
He tried to peer past her. “You alone?”
“What’s going on, Will?”
He smiled, and for a beat she saw the vulnerable kid she’d once known. “Not letting me in, huh?”
“Not tonight, sorry.”
He nodded, his smile fading, and that quick blink of the long-ago kid was gone, replaced by a man on the edge.
“Just get to the point, is that it?” he asked. “Fine. I want to see the coin.”
With his smile gone, he looked... well, a whole lot like how she remembered Shady Joe looking. Rough around the edges. Closed off. She didn’t like the way it made her feel vulnerable. “I can’t show it to you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not here,” she said.
“Where is it?”
“With the authorities.” She tried to look completely at ease while naked beneath the coat and feeling far too exposed. “After all, it’s not mine.”
He lost the last vestige of his earlier friendliness. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want. This conversation’s over.” She started to shut the door, but he shoved his boot inside, stopping the door from shutting all the way.
Anna drew a deep, steady breath. “I’m not playing games, Will.”
“You sure about that? Because it feels a whole bunch like you’re playing with me. Let me in, Anna. We need to talk.”
“Back up or I’ll call the cops.”
He held her gaze for a long beat, then must’ve decided she was serious because he pulled his foot free.
She didn’t wait to see what he intended to do next. She shut the door, hit the lock and bolt, and then stood there, watching out the peephole long after Will was gone.
Whelp. No way was sleep going to happen now. She quickly stripped out of the down jacket that had her overheating, then went to her bedroom closet and pulled on a sundress before going to her second-favorite spot to think.
Her roof.