A ghost of a chance, p.2
A Ghost of a Chance, page 2
Chuckling, he released me and grabbed hold of my hand, leading me toward the station's front door. “Of course we can go in together. Everyone knows you’re my girlfriend.”
I still got a kick out of hearing it, and I still had no idea how it had happened, but I was glad it had. Galloway had been a breath of fresh air and sunshine on an otherwise rainy day.
Inside, it was business as usual. Desks took up most of the main room. A glass wall separated the public entrance and the administration area upfront. As soon as we’d stepped over the threshold, the sound of typing and papers shuffling amplified, and I figured they’d all been spying on us out front.
Sergeant Addison Young leaned back in her chair and threw me a smile. “Hey, Audrey. Good to see you again.”
My mouth was dry again, and my lips stuck to my teeth when I returned her smile, which I’m sure came off more like baring my teeth at her. Addison winked, then turned back to her desk, resuming typing.
“Audrey.” Officer Noah Walsh approached, holding two cups of coffee. He placed one on the corner of Addison’s desk and took a sip of the other. My eyes narrowed in on the cup. I’d kill for a coffee.
I was still daydreaming about coffee when I realized work had come to a complete standstill, and the FBPD staff were all looking over my right shoulder. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Internal Affairs Investigator Savannah Mcintosh had entered the room.
“Audrey Fitzgerald?” The dulcet tones that reached my ears could have been from a phone sex operator if I knew what one even sounded like. But I’d imagined it would be like the warm, honeyed tones coming from behind me.
I turned. I’d seen Savannah from a distance before, so her beauty shouldn’t have come as such a shock. But up close? Up close, she was amazingly magnificent. As expected, she wore a suit—a navy blue stripe, the jacket done up at the waist with two buttons, the cut accentuating the slimness of her waist and curve of her hips. Beneath the jacket was a crisp white blouse. On her feet, peek-toe black heels.
Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in a dead straight waterfall of gorgeousness. Seriously, her hair should be in shampoo commercials. Her blue eyes were accentuated with a coat of mascara and subtle blending of eyeliner, her lips sported a nude shade of lipstick. Her skin was so clear she could have been airbrushed. Understated, elegant, stylish.
Straightening my shoulders, I took a step forward and held out my hand. “Savannah. Pleased to meet you.”
Her handshake was firm, her smile warm. “Come on through. Kade, could you get us a couple of coffees?”
“Sure.”
I threw him a glance over my shoulder as I followed Savannah to an interview room. Seemed like he didn’t mind being an errand boy for his ex. But then, why would he? There was no way Galloway would be pining after little Miss Universe here… because he had me, and I was plenty woman enough for any man. It wouldn’t hurt him to bring us coffee though, keep him humble.
“Good luck,” he said to me before joining the others, who were currently hovering around the coffeepot like they weren’t remotely interested in the meeting of the girlfriends, current and ex.
Then I saw Ben, mouth hanging open, eyeballs out on stalks as he ogled Savannah. I dropped my head, dread flooding me. He was going to mess this up for me, I just knew it. I tried to get his attention, but he only had eyes for the tall blonde. My stomach returned to flip-flopping, and an uncomfortable wave of perspiration broke out, making me thankful for the dark jacket that would hide any pit stains.
“Fitz, I’m sorry!” Ben apologized for the millionth time, and I continued to ignore him. “Look… she just… she’s…” he blathered, as he had been since laying eyes on Savannah Mcintosh. Once an articulate and, dare I say, intelligent ghost, he’d now become a mumbling, bumbling idiot.
He’d followed us into the interview room—despite promising that he would do no such thing—and had simply stared at Savannah the entire time, with a dreamy expression on his face, hanging on her every word.
“I guess I should be grateful you kept your mouth shut,” I conceded, tossing my purse onto the kitchen counter and kicking off my shoes. My ankle was turning lovely shades of blue and purple, and I rotated it to see if it still hurt. It did. The movement sent a sharp bolt of pain up my leg.
“Wow.” Ben crouched to get a closer look. “I didn’t realize it was that bad. You should ice it.”
“Thanks, genius,” I grumbled, reaching for the coffee cup I’d abandoned that morning, the contents long since cold. I considered my options. Zap it in the microwave or make a fresh cup. Then I looked a little closer at the brown liquid. Was that a… cat hair?
“Thor!” I bellowed. The big, gray teddy bear of a cat that I’d inherited from Ben squeezed through the cat door, his orange eyes landing on me.
“Oh good, you’re back,” he said in his adorable British accent.
“Don’t tell me. You’re starving,” I said sarcastically. It was Thor’s catch cry, and I was starting to think I needed to pull back on responding quite so readily. Soon he wouldn’t even fit through the cat door at all. I pointed to my coffee cup. “Have you been drinking my coffee?”
“Why would I do that?” He sat, licked a paw, then rubbed it over his face.
“Don’t think you can fool me,” I warned. “Answering a question with a question is a dead giveaway.” Thor paused in his grooming and eyeballed me.
Then, with a slow blink, he resumed washing himself. Around a mouthful of fur, he said, “Fine. It smelled different. I wanted to check.”
“Check? Check what? Wait! You don’t think it was poisoned, do you?” I hadn’t drunk much of it that morning, but maybe it was enough to make me break out in a sweat and feel nauseous. Maybe my earlier reaction hadn’t been nerves at all.
“Relax, Sherlock. Who’d want to poison you?”
“Well, I don’t know! Anyone!” I snapped my fingers and pointed at Thor. “Mills! Ian Mills would like to see me dead, I’m sure.”
“That may well be, but your coffee wasn’t poisoned.”
“What, then?”
“It’s decaf.”
It started with a ringing in my ears that slowly got louder and louder. My eyes locked on Thor as he sat washing his cute face as if he hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell in the world. “It’s what?” I choked out, hand going to my throat.
“Whoa.” Ben sounded equally horrified. “You sure?”
Thor’s tail slapped the floor. “Of course, I’m sure.”
I fanned my face. “Wait. Let me get this clear. You’re telling me someone has switched my coffee out for decaf?”
Thor tilted his head and considered. “I can’t say someone switched it out. Maybe you bought the wrong coffee. But I can say with one hundred percent conviction that that coffee is decaf.”
Flinging open the overhead cupboard, I pulled down the box of Folgers Classic Roast. Despite having Ben’s fancy pants coffee machine, I still loved my Keurig and used the K-cup pods religiously. I was a press-one-button- and-the-magic-brew appeared kinda girl.
I opened the lid and bit back a gasp. My Folgers Classic Roast K-cups had been replaced with Folgers 100% Colombian decaffeinated coffee.
“Argh!” I yelled, snatching up a pod and throwing it across the room. “Who did this?”
Ben held up his hands and backed away. “Hey! It wasn’t me.”
I snorted. “I didn’t think it was you, genius. You can’t pick anything up. Who had the nerve to come into my house and switch my coffee behind my back? And how did I not know about it?”
“You’re missing the obvious question,” Thor said.
“What’s that?” I tossed the box of pods in the trash.
“Why would someone do that?”
Good question. The why would lead to the who. Crossing my arms, I stared at the floor, deep in thought. I could only assume whoever had done this was concerned for my health. They thought I drank too much coffee. And knowing I would not respond well to anyone suggesting I cut back my caffeine intake…
I pulled the phone out of my purse and dialed. “Mom, how could you!”
“Audrey? What do you mean? What’s happened?”
“You know what’s happened,” I accused. “Decaf! How could you?” There was a moment's silence.
“Audrey, love, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Decaf? What? You’re telling me you’ve switched to decaf? I mean, that’s great, I guess?”
“You mean it wasn’t you?”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Did you or did you not switch out my coffee pods for decaf?”
I could have sworn I heard her giggle.
“I did not.”
Darn. Not Mom. She’d have fessed up by now. But it had to be another family member. “I bet it was Dustin,” I snapped. “Playing another of his practical jokes.” Oh, that brother of mine would pay big time for this one. “Sorry, Mom, gotta go. I’m out of coffee.”
“I thought you just said someone switched out your coffee for decaf? How can you be out?”
“Duh, I can’t drink decaf. What’s the point? I need to go to the store and re-stock. Clearly, I’m going to have to start storing my beverage of choice under lock and key.”
After finishing up the call with Mom and promising her I’d be at the family dinner (all the while plotting revenge on my brother), I hobbled toward the front door, pointing an accusing finger at Ben as I passed. “Don’t think you’re off the hook.”
“No, ma’am.” He had the grace to look suitably chastised. I knew he wasn’t, of course. And considering he made no move to join me, I figured as soon as I’d driven away, he’d be heading back to the station to follow Savannah around. And honestly, I probably wouldn’t mind—much—if it meant he’d find out anything useful. Instead, I knew he’d be following her like a lovesick ghost, which was kinda pervy and gross.
CHAPTER THREE
Garrido Bodega was a transplant from New York City, as was its owner, Nick Garrido. The little Hispanic grocery store held a ton of products in a tiny space and was my go-to when I only needed a couple of items and was in a hurry. I pulled up as close as possible to the door and then hobbled inside, my ankle twinging in protest with each step. The rapid swelling had meant I couldn’t squeeze my foot back into my heels, so here I was in my badass suit with flip flops. Killing it in the fashion department, Fitz.
“Hey, Nick.” I waved to the fifty-year-old Latino behind the counter. “How goes it?”
“Audrey, you’re looking sharp today.”
“Right?” I grinned. “You got any of those ankle strap things?”
He bustled around from behind the counter. “What have you done, amigas?”
We both looked at my discolored foot. “You know me. Always tripping over or banging into something.”
He shook his head, probably wondering how one person could constantly have such bad luck then led me down an aisle stocked high with dog food. “Ah, gringa, your mother must despair.”
“I’m sure she does.”
Halfway down the aisle between the dog food and feminine hygiene products was a small supply of first aid items. Nick grabbed an ACE wrap and tossed it at me. It bounced off my chest and fell to the floor, where we both looked at it for a second before bursting out laughing.
Composing myself, I bent and picked it up. “Thanks.”
“No problemo. Anything else for you today?”
“Just coffee, but I know where that is.”
Nick took the ACE wrap from me, shuffling back toward the counter. “I’ll ring this up before you drop it again.”
Hurrying as fast as my dodgy ankle would allow, I found my coffee, grabbed two boxes in case the coffee-switcher-outerer struck again, and made my way to the register to pay.
Nick eyed the two boxes of coffee. “Big case?”
“You wouldn’t believe it, but someone switched out my coffee for decaf!”
He froze, fingers hovering over the till, eyes round. “No!” he gasped.
I nodded sadly. “Yup. I don’t know what the world is coming to.”
He finished ringing me up, took my cash, and bagged the coffee and bandage. “I hear you, chero, I hear you.”
“I’m going to hide one of these, just in case the nefarious switcher-outerer strikes again.”
Nick grinned then winked. “Smart.”
“Thanks.” Taking the bag, I waved and hobbled to the door, only as I was about to step out, someone else was stepping in, and we collided with an oomph.
“Good grief, Audrey! What are you wearing?”
“Amanda, hi,” I greeted my sister-in-law. Amanda was the stunningly beautiful, incredibly smart, accomplished wife of my brother, Dustin. Not only was she the perfect mom to my niece and nephew, Madeline and Nathaniel, but she also worked full time as a paralegal at Beasley, Tate & Associates.
Amanda was on a quest to fix me. She considered my clumsiness a major flaw and basically thought I had a screw loose in my gray matter, and if I only got professional help (aka see a shrink), my clumsiness would magically disappear. It was a sore point between us. And it wasn’t that I didn’t love Amanda. I did, but…
“Never mind, I probably don’t want to know.” She dragged her eyes up from my flip flops to focus on my face. “Actually, I’m glad I caught you.”
“Oh?” I clutched the grocery bag to my chest and eyed the Honda CR-V. I wasn’t in the mood to stand around and chat, not with a painful ankle and a severe caffeine deficiency.
“I may have a case for you.” She dug in her purse, pulled out a card, and handed it to me.
“Ivelisse Day Spa,” I read aloud. “Isn’t that the new place that recently opened? In a renovated house or something?”
“Yes. Stephanie Melendez purchased the old Bailey house and refurbished it. Beasley, Tate & Associates handled the sale and rezoning.”
“Right. What’s the case?” Please don’t say missing newspapers.
“It might not be anything, but I happened to be at the spa this morning when there was a bit of a fuss.”
“A bit of a fuss? What does that mean?”
“Well, apparently, Stephanie’s daughter, Kira, didn’t turn up for track practice.”
I blinked. “Ummm. Okay. How old is Kira?”
“Fifteen.”
“Right. A fifteen-year-old didn’t show up for practice? I’d say she’s either hanging with friends or at the mall.”
“That’s what I said to her mom,” Amanda agreed. “But Stephanie wasn’t convinced. She says Kira is an outstanding athlete with a real passion for track and field. She has her eye set on the Olympics. She says Kira would never miss training. Never.”
“And I assume she’s done the usual? Called all Kira’s friends?”
Amanda nodded. “Yes. No one has seen her. Stephanie thinks she’s missing.”
“Has she called the police?”
“Yes, but they didn’t seem concerned. They said it’s only been a couple of hours and given her age…”
“They think she’s just messing around.” She probably was. I looked at the card in my hand. I had no active cases. With Galloway tied up at work, it couldn’t hurt to look into Kira’s apparent disappearance.
“Okay, I’ll give Stephanie a call.”
Amanda beamed at me. “Excellent. I told her you would.”
Wait. Amanda had told them I’d take the case before speaking with me, which would have been easy enough to do by simply picking up the phone. Instead, I’d bumped into her here, at the Bodega. A place where I imagined Amanda would never shop.
“I’ll let you get back to your shopping.” I stood aside and motioned for her to go past. Her eyes darted from me to the eclectically stocked grocery store behind me. “Nick’s is great, isn’t it?” I continued. “You can get almost anything here. What is it that you’re after?”
A flush of color bloomed on her cheekbones. “Oh. Um. Ah.” I could see she was casting around for a suitable lie. I waited patiently, not letting her off the hook. “Spices!” she finally blurted.
“Nice.” I grinned. “Nick has a great range, don’t you, Nick?” I called over my shoulder.
“What’s that, gringa?” Nick lifted his head from reading the newspaper laid out on the counter.
“Nick, this is my sister-in-law, Amanda. She’s after some spices.”
“Oh, pretty lady, Nick has all the spices you need,” Nick declared. “Come, come, I show you.” With arms waving, he ushered Amanda inside, and I slipped out, moving as fast as my sprained ankle would allow. Inside my car, I tossed the grocery bag on the passenger seat, started the engine, then dialed Stephanie’s number, connecting the call via Bluetooth.
One more glance through the window at Nick gesturing wildly as he regaled Amanda with the delights of his Bodega, and I pulled away. Serves her right for lying to me. What had me puzzled was why? Why track me down, at the Garrido Bodega of all places, just to tell me about a potential case? Especially when a phone call would have done the trick?
“Ivelisse Day Spa, Stephanie speaking, how can I help you today?”
“Oh, hi. This is Audrey Fitzgerald from Delaney Investigations,” I began, turning my attention to the road and the call.
“Thank you so much for calling. Amanda said you might.”
I frowned. What was Amanda up to? Was she in cahoots with my brother over this whole decaffeinated coffee business? Was she trying to lure me out of the house, keep me distracted so he could slip in and switch out something else? Mental note—check he hadn’t switched my milk to low fat. “I understand your daughter is missing?”
“I know it sounds crazy. Kira was supposed to be at training at eleven. When she didn’t show, Coach called me.”
I glanced at the clock on my dash. Quarter past twelve. Hardly any reason to panic.
“Eleven is a bit of an odd hour for training, isn’t it? I thought track was after school.”
“This is a special program, only for the most talented and gifted students. And Kira is not only that, but she’s also dedicated. There is no way she’d miss class.”
