Chapter 37
Outside the Blue Pelican, Renee hugged Mia one more time.
“This has been wonderful,” she said. “When can I see you again?”
Mia laughed. “We’ve spent more time together today than we have in years.”
“I’d like to keep the streak alive.”
I glanced at my watch. “I need to go over a few things with Mia this afternoon. Why don’t you and Bryan come by my house around seven this evening for cocktails and tapas?”
Bryan smiled. “Sure, we appreciate the invitation.”
Mia and I got into the car. She buckled her seatbelt and looked at me. “You stepped outside to take a call a few minutes ago, and you’ve seemed distracted ever since. Is everything okay?”
“Hunter called me. I’ll explain everything when we get back to the house.”
The rest of the drive passed in uneasy silence.
Once we arrived back at my place, we settled into the den. I filled Mia in on the phone call and let her know that for the first time since taking her case, we were closing in on the truth. To know for certain, I needed her help.
A plan was set in motion.
Seven o’clock arrived, the evening air carrying the scent of rosemary and saltwater. When Renee and Bryan knocked on the front door, Giovanni had arranged platters of tapas across the dining table.
Marinated olives.
Roasted peppers.
Garlic shrimp.
Patatas bravas.
A variety of meats and cheeses.
It was enough food to feed three times as many people as we were expecting.
As Bryan and Renee were shown inside, Renee glanced around, saying, “This place is incredible.”
“Thank you,” I said.
They followed Mia and me to the kitchen, where introductions with Giovanni were made. Cocktails were handed out, and we gathered around the table, spending the next several minutes savoring Giovanni’s selections.
As Renee went in for her second helping, she turned toward Giovanni. “This is an amazing spread. Are you a professional chef?”
“I own a restaurant in New York City, where my family lives.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
He nodded.
“So, you are a professional chef?”
He shot her a wink. “Something like that. Once you’ve finished eating, I can give you a tour of the house, if you like.”
Renee pushed her chair back and stood. “I would love that. How about now?”
“I’ll join you,” Mia said. “There’s a lot I still haven’t seen.”
Giovanni gestured toward the hallway. “Come. I’ll show you the upstairs first.”
The three of them disappeared down the hall, and once they were gone, I shifted my focus to Bryan. “Do you like classic cars?”
“Sure do.”
“Then there’s something I want you to see.”
A minute later, we stepped into the garage.
Bryan took one look at my Jaguar, and he let out a long whistle. “Wow. She’s a beauty.”
He walked around it, his fingers trailing across the polished finish.
“I used to drive it almost every day,” I said. “But now I’m trying to preserve it. The car belonged to my grandmother.”
“Never thought I’d come across a ’37 SS 100 in real life.”
“You know your cars.”
“My father restored classic cars.”
With his guard down, I went in for the kill. “Why haven’t you told your wife you lost your job over a month and a half ago?”
Bryan went still. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about. I still have a job.”
“Well … yes and no. Your boss was nice enough to offer you a few hours here and there while you find something else, but you haven’t yet.
I spoke with him this afternoon, and somehow you convinced him to say you were working on the night Wren died when you weren’t.
He said he vouched for you because he was sure you weren’t involved, and he was just trying to help.
Once I filled him in on a few details of the case, he had a change of heart. ”
His jaw tightened. “You had no right—”
“To investigate a man connected to a murder case? I have every right. The other night, when someone broke into Mia’s house, you weren’t working then, either. Your wife drives an SUV, but you drive a dark blue pickup truck. Shall I keep going?”
For the first time since we’d met, I saw genuine fear cross his face.
He turned toward the door like he was preparing to run toward it, and I stepped in front of him.
“I’ll let you out,” I said. “But first I need you to look through that window.”
Beyond the glass was the storage room, and inside was Coco.
Against Bryan’s better judgment, he looked.
The Labrador noticed him right away, and her ears flattened, a growl rumbling in her throat. Then the barking began, loud and relentless.
“You know, the coroner told me the killer was scratched on the night Wren was murdered,” I said. “He was able to recover some skin cells from beneath Coco’s nails. DNA he can use to prove who murdered her.”
Bryan looked at me and then bolted for the door.
“If I were you, I’d run too,” I shouted.
Bryan grabbed the door handle, yanked it open, and stopped.
Chief Foley stood on the other side with Whitlock beside him.
Whitlock smiled, tipping his head. “Evening, Bryan. I’m going to need you to turn around and place your hands behind your back.”
Bryan glared at me, and for a brief second, I saw the truth in his eyes—the moment he realized the dangerous game he’d been playing was over.