Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (16 page)

"Welcome home husband."

Matt blushed and beamed a smile at us. He picked up his duffel bag. "Okay dudes, I’m outta here."

"You aren’t staying for dinner?" I asked.

Matt bobbed back and forth. "Always on the move, man." He hugged me and kissed my cheek. "You look happy, dude. The married lady thing looks good on you." He bro-hugged Ted and clapped his back. "The house is cool. Nothing to report." He handed Ted the keys. "See you tomorrow."

After Matt left, I looked around our big quiet house. "Should I be expecting twenty people to jump out and yell, surprise?"

Ted put his arm around me. "It’s just us. Maybe we finally partied them out?"

I laughed. "Not a chance. What is tomorrow anyway, are we supposed to be somewhere?"

"Family dinner, Mrs. Jordan. Didn’t you get the memo?" I questioned him with my eyes. "It was moved to Saturday because next week is Thanksgiving."

I nodded. "Ah. I’m going to have subscribe to that family newsletter."

We carried our bags upstairs, and I unpacked. Ted checked in with Steve about their limo business. Then he called his mom. Soon, I was alone in the bedroom — Ted downstairs with a sandwich in his mouth and a phone to his ear.

I had calls to make too, but there was something more pressing on my mind. While I’d been able to forget about the envelope during my honeymoon, the urgency I felt to rip it open now made my hands sweat. I closed the door and dug the envelope out of my bag. Then I stared at it as though it had the power to hurt me. "It’s just an envelope, Scotti." I ripped it open and found a printout of a newspaper article about an old kidnapping case.

The article was dated October 30,1985 — my birthday. The headline read:
Young mother in North Hollywood claims infant daughter kidnapped
—
Police doubtful
.

Sitting on the bed, I read the article slowly. A young mother, Rose Hanson, claimed that her infant daughter was kidnapped while she slept. Yet there were no signs of break-in and no likely suspects. Neighbors hadn’t seen any strangers or strange vehicles on or before the night of the kidnapping.

The writer inferred that Rose, an unwed mother, had emotional problems because her boyfriend, Rory McClellan had died three months before the baby’s birth. Rose was under a doctor’s care and on medication because Rory’s death and the loss of her baby had thrown her into a deep depression.

Rose’s sister, Jennifer, was quoted as saying, "My sister has been through a lot, but she’d never hurt her own baby." An odd statement I thought, coming from a close relative. Had Rose been accused of harming the baby?

Police questioned Rose extensively, but she stuck to her story. When she lay down for a nap, her daughter was asleep in her crib. When she awoke, the baby was gone. Aside from the baby, the only item missing was a baby blanket that Rose had knitted for her daughter — yellow with lavender roses. The tone of the article made it clear that Rose was considered the main suspect in the kidnapping. However, the police had no proof against her or anyone else in the infant’s disappearance. On the last page was a sticky note from Joe — "Checking a parallel case. Call me."

I sat on the bed staring at the note. Did Joe believe that Rose Hanson was my mother? Was I one step closer to getting the answers I wanted so badly? My heart did a staccato dance in my chest at the thought.

"You opened it?" Ted stood in the doorway. I nodded and held out the pages. He came into the room and sat next to me. He took the pages and put them aside, then put his arm around me. "Is it bad?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know." I looked up at him. "It’s confusing."

He pulled me closer and rubbed my arm. "You’re trembling."

I didn’t want sympathy, I wanted perspective. I stood and gave him the pages again. "Read it. I’m going downstairs for a cup of tea."

A little while later, Ted came into the kitchen with the pages in his hand. He placed them on the butcher-block and sat next to me. "Tell me what you’re thinking."

I sighed and shrugged. "The obvious — that I was the kidnapped baby." I stared into the blurry memories of my childhood. "When I was little I had a yellow blanket." I looked up at him. "But there are a lot of yellow baby blankets in the world, right?"

"Where’s the blanket now?"

I shook my head. "Gone. Long gone. I don’t remember losing it. Just wasn’t there one day." I looked at him. "What do you think?"

He held my hand. "Not much to go on. If this girl was your mother, sounds like she had a tough time of things."

I jerked back my head. "So it was okay for her to pretend I was kidnapped instead of admitting she abandoned me?"

Ted stroked my back. "Honey, you don’t know if that baby was you. Don’t let yourself go there yet. Let’s see if Joe finds something more solid." He tipped my chin with his hand. "Even if this is you, it was a long time ago."

"So?"

"Your life is different now. You’re not alone. You have a family." He put his hand on my belly. "We’re your family. Right? Life is good now, isn’t it?"

I leaned against him. "Yes, my life is good. Except…" my voice cracked, "what if I’m like Rose?" I looked into his eyes. "Am I going to abandon my children too?"

Ted held me. "The woman I married would never do that. Never. My babies are damn lucky to have her. Just like I am."

I held him tighter. "No, I’m the lucky one."

We held each other for a few minutes, then I pulled away and forced a laugh. "Enough of this depressing stuff." I scowled at the pages, then put them back in their envelope and locked it in my desk drawer. Maybe that was all I’d ever know about my past. Maybe I’d learn more later. But for the moment, I was a happily married woman, looking forward to having her babies and sharing the rest of her life with the man she loved.

My past, whatever it was, wouldn’t ruin my present. I wouldn’t let it.

The weekly family dinner at Melinda’s had grown to include Zelda, Eric and Joe.

Steaming bowls of pasta pomodoro, fresh baked rolls and crisp Caesar salad traveled around the table in rapid succession — amid clanging silverware, a cacophony of voices, snickers and chuckles. The family of military brats cleaned their plates, like good little soldiers until not a morsel remained. Plates were cleared and whisked into the kitchen, where Ted and his brothers had a quick game of plate tossing. From the sound of it, most of Melinda’s dishes survived.

For dessert, I made three apple cobblers and decaf spiked with cinnamon and nutmeg. We heaped gobs of fresh whipped cream onto the cobbler and into our coffee cups and settled in the family room. We broke out the honeymoon photographs and passed around the souvenirs. Ted’s landscaper brother Dave pigged out on the saltwater taffy, then complained about it sticking to his dental work.

Tom shuffled through the photographs with a self-satisfied smile. Clearly proud of himself he said, "You liked it up there, huh Scotti?"

"It was wonderful, Tom. From now on, you’re in charge of all our vacations."

Ted marked an imaginary scoreboard in the air. "Tom zero, Scotti one. Next."

Tom grunted. Big laughs.

Melinda took the photographs from Tom and pored over them. "I’d forgotten how beautiful it is up there." She smiled at us. "It did you both a world of good too. You’re just glowing."

I bit my lip and glanced at Ted. "We should tell them now, huh?" And by we, I meant him.

He shrugged and held out his hands. "It’s up to you, hon."

The chatter stopped and all eyes turned to me. I smacked Ted on the back of the head. "Thanks for the support, dear." Squirming under the scrutiny of so many pairs of eyes I said, "There’s something we haven’t told you about the baby…"

Melinda gasped and put her hand to her chest. "Is everything all right?"

I chuckled. "If having two grandkids at the same time is all right, then yes."

Tom’s wife, Ginny squealed and clapped her hands. "Twins?"

Her daughters Katy and Chelsea jumped up and down and clapped. "Twins! Yay!"

I patted my tummy. "One of each — a boy and a girl." I held up a hand, "Well, at least we think it’s a boy and a girl."

Zelda smacked her knee. "You bitch, how could you keep this from me?"

The men shook Ted’s hand, clapped him on the back, and grunted about the Jordan potency. The women twittered, gushed and asked about names, baby showers and child care plans.

Melinda cried, and I slid next to her. "I thought you’d be happy."

She swatted away her tears. "You’re healthy? The babies are healthy?"

I nodded. "We’re all healthy as horses."

Melinda pulled me into a two-arm lock. "I’m beyond happy, darling! I can’t wait to see them."

Joe propped his feet on the coffee table and grinned his face off. "Imagine that, I’m gonna be a granddaddy again! How’s about we name your boy, Joseph? That’s a mighty fine name. Strong. Classic."

I rolled my eyes. "You let a man walk you down the aisle, and all of sudden he’s a granddaddy."

He wagged a finger at me. "You’re the one always calling me Gramps. You can’t back out now, missy."

I snorted. "Hey, if you want to be my kids’ granddaddy, I won’t stop you."

All the baby talk prompted Melinda to dig out her sons’ baby albums. We flipped through the albums and pondered who the kids might look like. The brothers made fun of each other and each bragged about being the cutest baby. Brett waved a baby picture of Ted at me. "See what you have to look forward to, Scotti? You’ll be cursing Ted when you try to deliver those clown feet."

"And the big head," Steve added.

Ted smirked at Steve. "I think you got the big head award." He looked at Melinda. "What was it, like four feet in diameter?"

Then it became a free-for-all — who was the easiest birth, whose head was the biggest, who broke the most dishes, who caught the most shit in school. How many times Ted ended up in the principle’s office. What little hellions our kids would be if they took after their father.

At the first opportunity, I snuck off to Melinda’s rose garden. The flowers stood like fragrant soldiers in the chill air, and I could feel winter coming. The night sky was smattered with stars and hung with a pale yellow moon. Cradling my belly I hummed, "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."

Zelda plopped next to me on the bench. "Hiding out?"

I rested my head on her shoulder. "Just taking a breath." I chuckled. "When they get wound up I feel outnumbered." I raised my head. "Still mad that I didn’t tell you?"

Zelda gave me a gentle shove. "Nah. I’m a big blabbermouth, I get it." She eyed my stomach. "You won’t be wearing those cute little jeans much longer though. Not with twins fighting for real estate in there."

I nodded, my jeans were already threatening my air supply. "Sad, isn’t it?"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "Oh, poor Scotti. You’ve got a bazillion people falling all over themselves to do something for you. Late night ice cream runs. Foot massages. Nursery remodeling." She chuckled. "I say, milk it while you can."

I laughed. "Good point."

She draped her arm around my shoulder. "So, I was thinking."

I sat up, suddenly alert. "About what?"

"Considering that you just got married and you’re about to have babies and the holidays are coming." She took a big breath. "How about we take the month of December off?"

My resistance fell, and I liked the sound of it. "It’s a thought. I could use some time off." I narrowed my eyes at her. "But what’s in it for you?"

Zelda gasped and put her hand to her chest. "Moi?" I nodded. She chuckled. "Yeah, okay, you’re right. Eric and I want some alone time." She shrugged, "Maybe go on a ski trip or two." She gave my hair a tug. "You’re not the only one who has a life."

I stuck out my lower lip. "Will you be home for Christmas and New Year’s?"

Zelda shrugged. "I don’t know. Eric’s friend has a condo in Utah, so we can stay as long as we want." She grinned at me. "But, Christmas without your cookies would be rough."

I swatted her. "Quit teasing me. Will you be here or not?"

"We’ll probably be home for Christmas." She shrugged. "Plans are fluid." She nodded toward the house. "Though, how you’d miss me with all those people around, I’ll never know."

I put my arm around her shoulders. "I’d miss you. And so would all
those
people." I pinched her. "Like it or not, you’re part of this crazy family now too."

"Okay, okay. Enough with the mush. This pregnancy is making you worse than usual."

Eric came out to the garden looking for Zelda, and I left them there to enjoy the moonlight and a few stolen kisses. Even though Zee had gone to extreme measures, I was glad they were back together — they were perfect for each other.

I cut through the library and ran straight into Joe. "Hey Gramps, looking for me?"

"Yes, ma’am." Joe waved to the club chairs. "Have a seat."

My stomach did a loopty-loop. "I don’t want to talk about this here."

He waved me over to the chair. "We ain’t going to talk much." I sat but kept my eyes on the door. Quietly Joe said, "I got more to report on your personal matter and there’s more on Atkinson." I turned to him sharply but he held up his hand. "Swing by my office Monday after you finish your route. We’ll go over everything then."