Texas and Tiaras (The Book Cellar Mysteries 2) Read online

  “Here.” She handed him his mug. “Do you need a pain pill?”

  He gave her a curt nod. Pain was something that he tried to keep hidden from her and everyone around him—stubborn fool. The vein that lined his temple and disappeared into his hairline bulged and pulsed—a clear tell that he was hurting. Since the accident, new fine lines etched across his forehead, while dark circles ringed his sunken eyes.

  He’s not sleeping either, she thought. Poor man. She handed him the pills and stroked his clammy cheek. The last few weeks he had taken his injuries in stride. Thankfully the doctors thought he only needed a few more weeks off his feet. She knew he was anxious to walk again—going above and beyond with his physical therapy to build back up his strength.

  “Thanks.” He threw back the pills and took a sip of coffee to wash them down.

  She took a tentative sip herself and let out a contented sigh. Coffee and a hot man to share it with. What else could a woman ask for? She eyed him over the brim of her cup and a smile broke out across his pained features.

  “Come here.” He pulled her hard up against him and rested his head against her abdomen, which she tightened to make as flat as possible. All those delicious Texas tacos were giving her belly a pooch that was on its way to muffin top station. The tips of her fingers rested on the top of his head, and she dug her nails through the tiny helix shaped curls. He needs a haircut.

  She dipped down to kiss him and his face rose to meet hers. He grimaced against her parted lips. The cigarette. She pulled away and snagged her cup to mask her embarrassment. His disapproving glare shamed her further. He rolled his chair back into living room with his mug held tightly between his thighs. His silence was worse than any comment he might have made. I need to quit smoking.

  After the accident and their tentative resolve to work at their relationship, she’d been massaging the truth a little to keep them on the right track. She had purposely neglected to tell him about Fin’s messages. She already felt bad enough about how she’d handled everything at the gala. The last thing she needed was for him to know that a serial rapist and pimp had his sights set on her. The light on her phone blinked to remind her that an unread Fin message was still waiting for her. Well, she had to read it sooner or later. Might as well do it now.

  Roses are red, violets are blue...didn’t you know cigarettes aren’t good for you? <3 Fin

  Her mouth went dry, and her heart beat hard against her chest. He’s watching me again. She looked over her shoulder and out the kitchen window. An owl sitting on the branch of the old oak tree on the side of the house greeted her with a hoot.

  With a swipe her of her thumb, she brought her phone back to life. She texted Fin back in a sudden surge of defiance. Come out from behind the screen and talk to me face to face.

  Fin’s response was swift. All in due time.

  Annabeth tossed her phone across the counter and it slid to the floor with a sickening crash. Shoot!

  Marcus wheeled his way back into the kitchen, his face scrunched up like an English bulldog. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I just dropped my phone. I’m going to go for a run.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You sure that’s a good idea? It’s pretty dark out.”

  Didn’t he know she could take care of herself? Didn’t he know that she’d been doing just that ever since they’d moved to this tiny Texas town? She’d been especially vigilant following the recent attack that had left her arm in a sling for weeks.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  She quickly changed into her running gear and started out on her preferred route. The street lights illuminated most of her path. She jogged passed Vi’s house and rounded the corner onto Brooke’s street. The large front window was illuminated by a single lamp. Brooke sat in her front room—staring off into space with her tennis shoes in her lap.

  Maybe I’m not the only one with nightmares.

  No one knows the impact of taking another life until it’s already too late. She shivered at the memory of the one time she had been forced to discharge her weapon in the line of duty. The suspect had died. And even though she’d saved the victim and prevented the perpetrator from harming more people, it had still thrown her for a loop. The nightmares and flashbacks made it nearly impossible to function. Even with time she still carried with her the lingering guilt of having ended someone’s life.

  Maybe I should talk to Brooke...

  No, she would never talk to Annabeth, even if it did help her recover from the events of that night. Ever onward.

  She glanced at her step counter and the time. I need to kick this into high gear if I want to finish in time to get breakfast before the big rush. She circled the subdivision five times—five miles according to her step counter. At the mouth of the neighborhood was a small diner that made the best breakfast tacos. Served from a food truck in their parking lot. She jogged over and ordered enough for her, Marcus, and Vi. By the time they’d finished making her order, a long line had formed, wrapping around the block.

  Lately, her neighbor hadn’t been eating too well. But no one could say no to breakfast tacos, no matter how sick or depressed they might be. Tacos were kind of a religious experience for Texans. On her way back she jogged past Brooke’s house, which was dark and lifeless looking now. Maybe she was lucky and had actually managed to get back to sleep.

  Dawn broke as Annabeth rounded the corner onto her street. The vista from on top of their little hill was breathtaking. The picturesque rolling hills were peppered with Oak, Pecan, and Mesquite trees. The rays of early morning sunlight pierced through the spaces between the full green foliage making them look like they were on fire. Fall still had not come to Central Texas, despite it being mid-October. Back home in Michigan, the trees would be almost bare and the nights would be getting colder.

  For a brief moment she let herself succumb to her homesickness—thoughts of her family and her home—but then shook it off as she jogged up Vi’s walkway. She knew if she dwelled too long on how much she missed everyone and her own bed in Michigan that she wouldn’t be able to do what she had come to Texas to do. Besides, she didn’t need to burden Vi with her problems. Her neighbor already had her hands full with her own.

  Annabeth knocked softly on her neighbor’s front door. She could hear the sounds of Wheel of Fortune playing on the TV in the front room. Well that’s good. At least I won't be waking her up. A minute passed, and just as Annabeth was about to turn around and go home, the door opened a crack.

  Vi peered through the opening with red-rimmed eyes. “What do you want?”

  Gone was the cheery woman she had grown to know and love. A twisted bitterness had taken over, but she held out hope that her sweet Vi was still somewhere inside. I just have to be patient. Annabeth held up the brown paper sack with grease stains wetting the bottom. “Breakfast.”

  Her friend’s gaze softened, and the crack in the door widened. “Come in.”

  She followed after Vi and noted that she favored one side. On the kitchen counter a surprisingly large assortment of prescription pill bottles lay scattered about. Was her friend’s gunshot wound more serious than she had let on?

  Vi shuffled over to the sink, got a glass of water, and took a handful of pills. While her friend took her medications, Annabeth took a couple tacos out of the bag and handed them to her.

  Vi pulled back the aluminum foil and began picking at the bits of egg and bacon inside like a bird. Each tiny bite she took was followed by a gag.

  Annabeth swallowed hard to stop herself from gagging. “Are you okay?”

  Her neighbor’s hooded black eyes looked even more haunted than usual. “Fine.” Her eerily calm tone put Annabeth on edge. It seemed as though every day the poor thing’s condition had been deteriorating. She made a mental note to maybe call Brooke or Jesse. They had known her longer and might better know how to help her through this obviously difficult time. Annabeth had never been good at being helpful, but she wanted to do something, especially
since Vi had been so supportive to her in her time of need.

  Vi’s gaze followed her—a cat waiting to pounce.

  “Well, uh...I’d better get going. Marcus is probably starving by now.”

  Vi didn’t say a word, just continued to peck and gag at her meal. Maybe this was her way of saying get the heck out of my house. If so, Annabeth got the message loud and clear.

  Annabeth hurriedly made her way out of the house and let the door close behind her with a satisfying thump. She took a deep sigh and jogged back to her house and let herself in. Her day was jammed full, but she doubted she’d be able to shake Vi from her mind that easily. Fin needed to be dealt with, and she had a few ideas that she was eager to put into motion.

  Chapter Three

  Vi

  Vi stretched out as best she could on her sofa. It hurt too much to be in bed, so she spent most of her time parked out in the living room like some decrepit old man dozing in front of the football game. The anchors on the five o’clock news droned on about one fluff story after another. Nothing caught her attention for more than a few seconds.

  “MoPac will be down to one lane for the rest of the week affecting morning commutes…” The TV drowned out her thoughts, but did nothing to distract her from the real problem at hand. A sharp pain shot through her arm and down her back, radiating through her whole body despite the hefty narcotics her medical team had prescribed. According to the clock, she still had another hour before she could take anything more. She had always imagined what she would do with time off from work and Joy, but this was not how she imagined spending it. Her mind drifted off to the Twilight Zone episode with the man who loved to read and had all the time to do so, but then his glasses broke and he couldn’t do the one thing he loved. Pity party of one, please!

  She desperately needed a diversion to get her mind off it, but nothing was working. Not even the frequent visits from neighbors, friends, and co-congregants that had once brightened her day gave her even a flicker of relief now. Father Horatio had stopped by a few times to check in on her, but she had the sneaking suspicion he found their visits every bit as uncomfortable as she did. The day before he’d stayed only long enough to give her communion and to say yet another unheard prayer for a quick recovery. He couldn’t get away from her fast enough, which was fine. She didn’t need anyone, anyway...

  Free to wander, her mind went where it always did, to Joy. It’s been over a week since I’ve seen or spoken to her...Guilt swelled in her heart. She loved her sister with a fierceness that couldn’t be matched, but how could she care for Joy when she couldn’t even focus on the evening news, let alone take any real care of herself?

  In the past she had daydreamed about a Joy-free week, but now that she’d actually achieved seven days without her sister, she felt hollow and without purpose. She needed to get better and quick! Too bad that just wasn’t in the cards. The doctor’s prognosis—acute nerve injury in her shoulder—meant recovery would be slow and painful, and that there would be no guarantees that she would ever be pain free again. Nerve damage was funny that way.

  She stood and lumbered her way into the kitchen where all her pills were kept. It wasn’t time yet, but the pain pierced through her chest leaving her breathless. Taking something an hour early wouldn’t kill her, but waiting might.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Her neighbor had been making it a habit to stop by at least twice a day to check on her.

  Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll go away.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Apparently, Annabeth wasn't going to go away this time. I’ll have to let her in. Maybe she could make her uncomfortable enough to get rid of her fast. The gagging had certainly proven an effective strategy the other day. She opened her backdoor to find—not Annabeth—but a delivery man standing on her welcome mat.

  “Good evening, ma’am. I have your groceries.”

  “I didn’t order anything.” She pushed the door closed with an annoyed humph, but he held out a hand to stop it from closing all the way.

  “I have the order right here. A Ms. Fischer ordered the groceries and charged it on her VISA card. Are you Vi Hernandez?” The young man held up the order sheet and looked to her for guidance.

  Brooke. Does she really think she can buy my forgiveness? She hasn’t even said she’s sorry for shooting me!

  Vi shook her head to slow the rage from building. “There’s been a mistake. Ms. Fischer isn’t authorized to order anything for this house.” She slammed the door again, this time before he could do anything to stop her. The satisfying thud that followed made her smile.

  A few seconds later a knock sounded again. She swung the door open, fuming. “I told you I don’t want—”

  Shoot!

  Annabeth stood on the mat with an old corning ware dish—the kind with the green leaves etched on the side—in her outstretched hands. It made Vi think of her Mama and the big potlucks they would have at the church. A new, but familiar pain touched her heart at the memory.

  Annabeth held the dish out toward Vi like an offering. “I’m sorry…”

  Guilt coursed through Vi’s veins as she accepted the food. This isn’t Annabeth’s fault. I need to stop taking this out on her.

  Anna turned to leave. Actually, more like jerked. She couldn’t wait to get away from scary, raving Vi.

  Is this what she had become?

  “Wait! Don’t go. I’m sorry, I thought you were the delivery man. Brooke ordered me groceries…” Vi held open the door and motioned for friend to come inside. “I’m sorry. I’m in a lot of pain tonight. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

  Annabeth stood frozen in place. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

  “No, not at all. Please come in.” Vi walked over to the counter and took another pill. The drugs only took the edge off. Unfortunately, they didn’t fix the root of the problem. The constant agony twisted her words and made her want to lash out at everyone—even poor Annabeth, who just wanted to help out.

  Her well-meaning neighbor stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She put the food down and took out two plates and forks. “Marcus made this so I can’t vouch for how good it is. I honestly don’t even know what he made... or that he could cook at all, for that matter.” She forced a laugh as she took off the lid and examined the contents inside. “I hope you like cheese, because it seems to be the main ingredient.”

  Vi sat down at the table while her sweet neighbor spooned out a generous helping of cheese surprise onto her plate. “Thank you.”

  Annabeth sat down across from her and dished out her own helping. “You’re welcome. It’s what we Northerners do. We make casseroles with enough cheese to put five pounds on you just from looking at it.”

  Vi let out a short laugh, then took a tentative nibble, and... “Wow, this is pretty good.”

  Annabeth smiled mid-bite. “Right? We’ve been together for over five years, and I had no idea what he could do in the kitchen. He said something about it being his mom’s recipe.”

  A string of cheese snapped and dangled from Vi’s mouth that she covered with her hand. “I don’t think you ever told me, how did you two meet?”

  Annabeth sat back in the chair and a nostalgic smile slid across her petite features. “Quantico. We were in the same graduating class at the Bureau.” A slight blush colored her freckled cheeks. “He was gorgeous…still is.”

  A half-hearted smile tugged at the corners of Vi’s lips. “Today is the anniversary of my first date with Ricky.”

  ‘Oh, Vi.” Annabeth reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Have you heard from him at all since he left?”

  She shook her head. A heavy silence fell between them as they ate their meal.

  When they’d both finished, Annabeth cleaned up their plates and tidied up the kitchen. “You need me to pick up a few groceries? Things are looking a little Mother Hubbard up in here. I’ve got something I need to check out for the case, but I can swing by on my wa
y home.”

  Vi cleared her throat and stood up to take another pill. The pain had started to travel up her neck, exploding at the base of her skull.

  Her neighbor’s seemingly judgmental gaze followed her. “Didn’t you just take something? Is it okay to take so much?”

  Vi’s eyes narrowed. Why can’t everyone just mind their own business? Can’t she see I’m in pain?

  “I need it,” she explained between clenched teeth.

  Anna nodded, a concerned look flashing across her face. “I’m sorry you’re still hurting.” She leaned against the counter and crossed her ankles. “What does the doctor say?”

  “I’ll be fine, Anna.” She brushed off her neighbor’s concerns, hoping she would drop it.

  “Vi, what did they say?” She leaned in toward her, waiting.

  “It’s not good, okay? Is that what you want to hear? That I may be in pain the rest of my life?”

  Annabeth’s face fell.

  That should teach her not to butt into other people’s business. Hoe your own row, Mama used to say.

  “Vi—”

  “That’s enough!” She held up her hand to stop Anna from going any further. “Thank you for the meal, but I would really like it if you left right now. I want to be alone.”

  A part of her cringed at the words that had just come out of her mouth—so foreign to her. But the larger part of her didn’t care who she hurt as long it meant she could finally get some pain relief. The stabbing sensation in her shoulder took away whatever little bit of kindness that was left in her heart.

  “Fine!” Annabeth pushed off the counter and walked out the door, letting it slam behind her.

  The quiet that followed was beautiful. She’d had all the company she could handle for the day, thank you very much. At its best, her shoulder pricked and ached, but at its worst the sharp stabbing sensation brought tears to her eyes. And though there were treatments, she could experience some level of discomfort for the rest of her life. Long-term pain management was not the prognosis she had wanted to hear. She couldn’t face the thought of living that way.