Chapter 21
I woke up feeling like someone was watching me and opened my eyes to find Giovanni leaning over the bed, holding a cup of coffee.
“Good morning, cara mia,” he said, setting the cup on the nightstand.
I rubbed my eyes, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “What time is it?”
“A little after eight.”
Eight.
An hour later than I’d planned on waking up, but after a restless night of sleep, I supposed it wasn’t that surprising. I needed the extra rest.
I brushed hair out of my face and noticed Giovanni had gone quiet.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
“Your mother is in the living room.”
That woke me faster than the coffee ever could.
“My mother?” I asked.
“She wants to speak with you before you start your day.”
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Did she say why?”
“She didn’t, but she’s holding a quiche, which she refused to give to me.”
That answered nothing and everything.
If I had to venture a guess, she’d brought me a peace offering.
“Tell her I’ll be out in a minute,” I said.
I slipped on a robe, patted Luka as he stretched at the foot of the bed, and made my way down the hall. By the time I reached the living room, I had prepared myself for the usual—high energy, high volume, and a flair for the dramatic. Instead, I found the opposite.
My mother sat on the edge of the couch, the quiche balanced on her lap. Her posture was straight, her expression quiet, almost solemn. That alone told me something was off.
“Good morning, Mom,” I said.
She looked up, her eyes wet like she was trying not to cry. “Hello, dear.”
I stepped closer. “What’s going on?”
She stood and handed me the quiche. “It’s tomato, mushroom, and feta. Your favorite. I … umm, I stopped by this morning because I owe you an apology.”
“For what?” I asked, even though I knew.
“For interfering at the diner. That poor man you were questioning—”
“Karl,” I said.
“Yes, Karl.” She clasped her hands together. “I got carried away. On the drive home, Harvey let me know I could have handled it better.”
“I assume Harvey said it in the gentlest way possible.”
“He understands my tendency to insert myself into something when it isn’t always my place.”
That was one way to describe her behavior.
“He said that perhaps I should trust you to question people as you see fit and not to get involved,” she continued.
I smiled despite myself. “Harvey’s a wise man. All is forgiven, and for what it’s worth, I spoke to Karl after I left the diner. I got what I needed from him.”
I set the quiche on the counter, and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m glad to hear it.”
I hugged her back, surprised by the sincerity of the moment.
When she pulled away, her usual spark had returned.
“So,” she said, lowering her voice, “how is the case going … if you don’t mind me asking?”
We sat, and I gave her a brief overview.
When I finished, she said, “Sounds like this one is keeping you on your toes. I don’t believe you’ve ever had a case where you suspected the wrong person may have been murdered. How terrifying for Mia, to be grieving for her sister while fearing for her own life at the same time.”
“It’s a lot of pressure, like I’m racing against a ticking clock to find the killer before they get a chance to right their wrong.”
“Well,” she said, straightening, “if anyone can figure this out, it’s you.”
“Let’s hope so.”
She glanced at the time.
“Goodness, I’d better scoot or I’ll be late for Pilates.” She kissed my cheek, and as she prepared to walk to the door, she turned. “I hope you know how proud I am of you.”
“I do, Mom, but it’s always nice to hear it.”
She shot me a wink and then rushed out the door, waving as she made her way to the car. The house fell quiet, and a few minutes later, my cell phone buzzed.
I reached into the pocket of my robe and answered it.
“Hi, Georgiana,” Mia said. “I wanted to check in with you to see if there are any updates this morning.”
“I drove to Bakersfield yesterday and met with your cousin Renee.”
“And? How did it go?”
“She was forthcoming and cooperative. That’s how she came across to me, at least. I also met her husband, Bryan. They both seemed sincere. I know Renee contested your grandfather’s will, but I believe she wants more than anything to have a relationship with you. She asked me to say hello.”
“I see. I’ve thought about messaging her a few times. I’m just not sure I’m ready yet. I guess I wanted to make sure there was no way she could have …”
“Renee has an alibi. Her neighbor came by to return a dish on the night of the murder.”
“Have you spoken to the neighbor?”
“I have.”
Mia drew in a breath and let it out. “What a relief it is to know I was right about one thing. I never wanted to believe Renee had anything to do with it. Still, it’s nice to rule her out.
I’ve been thinking about her and about our grandfather’s house.
I’ve always known how much she looks up to me.
I haven’t made a big effort to be in her life, something Wren pointed out to me on more than one occasion. ”
“It’s not too late to fix things between you two.”
“Can I be honest with you? The more I think about your theory and about someone wanting me dead, the more I find myself questioning everything.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t feel safe,” she said, “and I don’t see people the same way anymore. Every sound, every shadow makes me wonder if someone is out there watching me. I hate feeling this way in my own home.”
“It won’t last forever. I will solve this case, I promise.”
“I just want my life back, or some semblance of it. I know it won’t ever be the same again, not without Wren, and that’s … unavoidable. But everything right now is so hard and draining, and I’m tired of feeling exhausted all the time.”
I offered a few more words of encouragement, and as we ended the call, I grabbed a plate and warmed up a piece of quiche, thinking about what it would feel like if I lost my sister.
Unimaginable.
That’s how it would feel.
Mia was right to feel the way she did.
Somewhere out there, someone was trying to finish what they’d started, and I needed to find them before they got another chance.