Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (20 page)

Unfortunately, life and my body had other plans. I couldn’t wear my old clothes. I got tired. I got hungry. I cried if someone looked at me the wrong way. Fast food gave me heartburn. I couldn’t bake non-stop for hours without taking frequent breaks. My life was anything but normal.

I threw a sheet over my mirror until further notice then marched downstairs to my kitchen. I looked at Boomer and snapped open a trash bag. "Here goes." Every bit of junk food we had got pitched into the bag. Chips, popcorn, cheese puffs, ice cream, frozen pizza, and other delicious processed food was officially forbidden in my house. And one trash bag was not enough. I dragged three full bags to the trash bin outside. Then I scoured the rest of the house for hidden snacks — discovering a wealth of Ted’s hidey holes. Oh was he going to whine. But he was the one always pointing out that we were pregnant, so I’d be damned if I was the only one who would sacrifice. If we were in this thing together, we were in it together.

Once I got my engines going, I packed up old baking gear, dishes and other gear I hadn’t used in years, and put it aside for the thrift store. Old clothes, shoes, coats, books and anything else I was hanging onto for no reason at all also got the boot. And I just kept tossing until I felt purged and exhausted.

Right around the time I was contemplating what to make for dinner, I got a text from Ted — working late again. I shared a turkey sandwich with Boomer and forced down a glass of milk with my baby vitamins. Then my phone buzzed with a text from Joe.

<<>>

When Joe arrived I was so happy to see another human being I hugged the air out of him. "Down girl, only so much of me to go around." We settled at the dining table, and Joe snagged a chocolate cherry cupcake before his fanny hit the chair. He licked icing from the corner of his mouth and held out his coffee cup. "Ted coming home anytime soon?"

I poured his coffee then sat down. "No, he’s working late." I eyed the satchel at Joe’s feet. "What’s in there?"

Joe bent down and withdrew three manila files from the satchel. "Now before I give you these, I want to be sure you’re ready."

"For what?"

"For what’s in them." He set the stack of folders on the other side of the table and rested his hand on them. "You gone to see Rose’s sister yet?"

I shook my head. "I haven’t worked up the nerve." I made a face. "Not sure If I’m going to see her."

Joe smirked. "You’re going to see her."

I buried my hands in my hair and sighed. "I don’t know what to say to her. Hi, I’m your dead sister’s baby? The one who disappeared twenty-nine years ago?" I shrugged. "I don’t do subtle."

"Subtle ain’t necessary with family."

I hunched a shoulder. "If you say so. But I don’t want to give the woman a heart attack." I snatched a cupcake from the platter and peeled back the paper. "And how do I know she’ll think of me as family?" I slouched on the table. "For all I know, she hasn’t thought about me since the day I disappeared."

Joe rolled his eyes and said, "Oh pish." Then he tapped his finger on the stack of folders. "I got the missing baby file. And Rose’s murder file. Least ways, whatever I could get copies of it — couldn’t sweet talk all of it into my hands."

I craned my neck. "What’s the third file then?"

"My progress report, interview transcripts and such." He raised his eyebrows. "All clients get one, and you’re my client, ain’t you?"

I kept my eyes on the files. They weren’t very thick, but I wanted to know their secrets. I held out my hands. "Gimme."

Joe took my hand and squeezed it. "It ain’t gonna be easy reading. It could open up things you ain't never dreamed of."

I chewed on my lip and nodded. Fear already twitched and poked at my insides. "We’re past that point now, aren’t we?"

Joe nodded and slid the files across the table to me. "All righty then, have at it."

I opened his progress report first. He’d some made headway and tracked down the priest who found me at St. Daniel’s, a couple of Rose’s teachers, old neighbors, and Rose’s best friend Kathy Morrissey.

I ignored the taunting laughter in my head and concentrated on the words written on the page. If I really wanted to learn the truth, I couldn’t be Rose’s daughter, nervous and scared about what I’d find. I had to be an investigator, looking at the facts of a case and putting them together to paint a picture of what happened. And then figure out where those facts might lead me.

Joe’s summary and interview transcripts gave me pieces of Rose’s life. She came from a blue collar family. Her father Jack worked in a factory that produced air plane parts, and her mother Marsha worked in a dry cleaners. Marsha doted on her daughters, and Jack was a good provider. Marsha died of a heart attack when Rose was eight.

Rose was an excellent student but shy and socially awkward. She was pretty but never dated. She had a beautiful alto voice and sang in the choir but wasn’t popular at school.

Marsha’s death defined both Rose and her sister Jennifer but differently —Jennifer became extroverted and Rose withdrew. The consensus was that Jennifer was the stronger of the two. Rose stood in Jennifer’s shadow but didn’t seem to mind. She read a lot, kept to herself and had few friends. Her closest friend Kathy Morrissey, she met during her junior year of high school. The two girls clicked instantly and were inseparable. When Rose got a job at Jeremy’s Coffee Shop after graduation, so did Kathy. They worked the same shifts together and called themselves the dynamic duo.

Rose met Rory McClellan — a tall, handsome, black-haired, blue-eyed musician — at a party. It was love at first sight and obvious to anyone who saw them together. Because of Rory, Rose went from a shy and awkward girl to a happy, cheerful young woman. Against her father’s wishes and amid the hiss of scandal, Rose moved in with Rory after she became pregnant. Everyone expected them to marry. Rory gave her a Celtic wedding ring that belonged to his mother, but three months before their baby was born, he was killed in a car accident. My investigator hat slipped off for a moment and my stomach clenched — my father was dead too, and the momentary hope I had of finding him evaporated.

After Rory died, Rose became more introverted than before. It was easy for people to believe that Rose had left the baby at the church after losing Rory. No one could blame her for a broken heart, but she needed to own up and take her medicine. Despite the gossip, Rose never changed her story and was determined to find her baby. When the police gave up on the case, she began her own campaign. She wrote letters, combed newspapers, made phone calls, and anything else she could do to find her daughter. She regularly visited the police station to inquire for leads but was met with indifference.

Some believed it was Rose’s guilt that drove her to put on the charade. Some believed she’d killed her baby and buried it in the woods. No one believed the baby was kidnapped. Not even her best friend, Kathy. When Rose was killed during the robbery at the diner, people shrugged it off as the tragic end to a tragic girl’s life.

I finished and closed the file. Joe put his hand on my shoulder. "Still with me, missy?"

I cleared my throat and sat back. "You didn’t talk to the priest yet?"

Joe shook his head. "He’s in a rest home. I figured we could see him together."

I nodded. "What about the friend, Kathy?"

He sighed. "She ain’t returned my calls yet." He tapped the file. "Her address is in there if you wanna see her."

I flinched then caught myself. "Okay."

He patted my hand. "Or we can do it together — you decide."

I sighed and stared at the folders. "Rose really didn’t have anybody on her side."

Joe patted my shoulder. "She’s got us, now."

I took his hand and moved it from my shoulder to the table. He looked at me, bewildered by my action. "Look Joe, I love you like family, but I didn’t choose you for this job because of that." I paused to suck in the grief that was screaming to get out. "I hired you because you’re the best at what you do and part of that is because you can keep a cool head when it matters. If you keep coddling me every step of the way, I’ll never get through it. You understand?"

Joe reached for me, then stopped himself. He snagged another cupcake and peeled back the paper. "Course I do, Miss Scotti. And I appreciate your confidence in me." He gave me a dispassionate look. "Now, what was you gonna ask me?"

I sniffed back the tears begging to fall and cleared my throat. "What about Rory? Where is he? Does he have any family still alive?"

Joe frowned and scratched his big nose. "I ain’t found nothing on him yet because I was focusing on your mama. But I’ll keep at it."

I noticed the time and had to wrap it up because Ted would be home soon. I picked up the files. "Can I keep these for a few days?"

Joe nodded. "Them’s yours. I got my own copies." Joe followed me into the back room, where the belongings of my former life still sheltered. I shoved the files under a stack of winter sweaters in the dresser and closed the drawer. "Still ain’t sharing with Ted?"

"He read the article. And I told him we visited Rose’s grave." I held open the door for Joe. "I need to process things before I can talk about it with him."

Joe frowned at me. "Why? Ted can take it."

I hooked my arm through his as we walked back to the dining room. "I need to figure out what I think before I ask anyone else’s opinion. Especially Ted’s."

Joe probed me with his clear blue eyes. "He’s just trying to look after you like a good husband ought to."

I cleared the dirty dishes from the table. "I know." I backed through the kitchen door and Joe followed me carrying the empty coffee pot. In silence, we washed the dishes and put them on the rack to dry. A wave of grief knocked me on my ass, and I hunched over the sink. "Oh, God."

Joe put his hand on my shoulder. "What is it, child?"

Angry tears burned in my eyes. "It’s not fair." I threw up my arms. "What happened to her, what happened to me." I slapped my chest. "But Rose is mine. I didn’t have her when I was a kid. What I have now isn’t much, but it’s mine. Isn’t it?"

Joe tore a sheet off the paper towel roll and gave it to me. "Yeah, I expect it is."

He led me to the butcher-block and sat next to me. "But Ted don’t want to take Rose away from you, Scotti."

Joe’s heart was in the right place, but he didn’t get it. "Unless he thinks it could hurt me or the babies." I put my hand on his. "I know he’s protective because he loves me. But I can’t take the chance that he’ll try to stop me. I need to find the truth. Don’t I deserve the truth?"

Joe nodded. "You do, Scotti."

I backhanded my tears and cleared my throat. "So for now, this is between us, Joe. You and me, we’re going to find the truth. Okay?"

"Okay little mama, you got yourself a deal." He patted my hand. "Now that we got that squared away onto other matters."

"What other matters?"

"Jury selection is coming up in about a week. What’s your schedule?"

I wasn’t following the Atkinson case — although it seemed to be everywhere you looked or listened. I shook my head. "No can do."

Joe’s face flushed pink. "I ain’t asking you to talk to him. Just set at the table and give your input on prospective jurors."

I shook my head slowly. "I promised Ted I wouldn’t."

Joe smirked. "You promised Ted you wouldn’t meet with the man. You didn’t promise you wouldn’t work on the case."

"But I told him it was done."

"Then you spoke outta turn."

Headlights flashed through the door window. I sighed. "We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?" My eyes darted to the back door. "And you came over to keep me company while Ted was working. Got it?"

A key turned in the lock and then Ted stepped inside. "Hi honey, I’m home." His grin faded when he saw we had company. "Hey Joe, what’s up?"

Joe kissed my cheek. "Now that your loving husband is home, I’ll skedaddle."

Ted kissed my cheek and questioned me with his eyes. "Joe came by to keep me company while you were at work."

Ted nodded and smiled. "That was mighty nice of him. Thanks, Joe."

Joe hopped off his stool. "All righty then, I’ll leave you newlyweds to your lonesome and get out of your hair." He held up a hand. "I can see myself out."

Ted sat in Joe’s stool and slung an arm around my shoulders. "You miss me?"

I kissed him. "I always miss you."

He put his hand on my belly and bent his head. "How about you, kids? Did you miss Daddy?"

I laughed and nudged him back. "Will you stop talking to my belly? What are you trying to do — give them a clown personality to go with your clown feet?"

Ted slid off his stool. "What’s for dinner, I’m starving."

"I didn’t make dinner, I thought you’d grab a sandwich at work."

Ted poked through cabinets. "I did, five hours ago." He frowned. "Where is everything?"

I stretched and rolled my neck. "What everything?"

He pawed deeper into the cabinets. "The chips, the cheese doodles? Damn are we out of popcorn too?" He frowned at my belly. "Kids, did you eat all of Daddy’s snacks?"

I smiled brightly. "Funny thing about that." Ted knitted his brow. I shrugged and laughed. "I threw it all away. The junk food. It’s all gone." I shrugged. "Sorry."