Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (38 page)

I cranked my hand. "Just tell me what you think."

He tapped his fingers on the notebook. "The alibi for Jennifer and Kathy seems suspect. Like they knew they’d need one. And Kathy being the only witness to the robbery is a little hinky too."

I slipped onto a stool. "Yeah, I don’t know if they’re lying or hiding something, but I don’t buy it either."

"And the priest and Marley pretty much confirmed you were an adoption that went sideways." He smiled at me. "Though one look at that picture of Rose should prove to anybody that you’re her daughter." He pulled me out of my seat and into his arms. "But why would Rose’s sister and her best friend steal her baby and get tangled up in this underground adoption business?"

I shrugged. "Secrets of their own? A grudge against Rose?" I made a face. "It doesn’t make sense, does it? From all accounts, Rose was sweet and kind. Not the kind of person who inspired revenge."

He looked at me. "What’s Kathy like?

I frowned. "I don’t know, why?"

He shrugged. "Just give me your impression of her."

I pulled my stool over and sat next to him. "She strikes me as an unhappy woman. She’s gruff. Wound a little tight. Smokes a lot." I looked at him. "But she talked to me for a long time. Seemed open enough." I shrugged. "Not overly friendly though. Not happy to see me but not horrified either."

Ted shook his head. "Okay, let me ask it another way. What bothered you about her?"

It was a good question, what did bother me about Kathy? I scanned through my meeting with her in my head for a few seconds. "She was hot and cold. Didn’t want to talk about Rose but did want to talk about Rose." I frowned. "I couldn’t read her. She talked a lot without really telling me anything — at least anything I didn’t already know. She lives in a cute little bungalow, but it’s jammed with all this big ugly furniture and clutter. Kind of felt like a cave where she hides out. And she has lots of pictures on the wall but no pictures of family or friends. Nothing personal. Nothing that gave you any sense of who she is." I fingered the chain of my locket then chuckled. "And she did this. She wore a necklace and she was constantly playing with the chain."

Ted looked interested. "What kind of necklace?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know, I could only see the chain."

Ted reached out and gently touched the two necklaces of Rose’s that I hadn’t taken off since I put them on. "Like these?"

I nodded. "This type, I think. A fine chain, so probably a small pendant." I held out the chain from my neck and looked at it. "Maybe she’s still wearing the other half of this one."

"Did you think she was intentionally hiding it from you?"

I shrugged. "I don’t know. Maybe. But what would I care what kind of necklace she was wearing? She’s just a strange woman." I glanced at him. "That’s my impression of Kathy Morrissey — strange."

Ted took my hand. "And?"

I heaved a sigh. "I can’t for the life of me figure out how they could’ve been friends."

"Because?"

"I don’t like her. Not one bit."

For my baby shower, Melinda thankfully didn’t hire acrobats or clowns. Although it wasn’t a traditional shower either. Instead of a group of giggling girlfriends, pretty much everybody I knew, including Daniels, his wife and Davis were my guests. Even Joe, although he barely said a word to me. So in true Jordan style, it was just another reason for a party. Melinda put out a scrumptious buffet of finger food on the dining table, the soundtrack was soft jazz, and we amused ourselves by having a limbo contest. I couldn’t participate, but I got some great photos for the nursery gallery wall.

Because I was having twins, the theme was two of everything. Two giant storks made of flowers, two baby shoe ice sculptures, two kinds of fried chicken, two flavors of cupcakes, two punches, two gift tables, two seating areas, two baby banners. I wondered if Melinda was trying to compensate for Rose — trying to be the mother I didn’t have. Like Ted, Melinda’s stainless exterior covered a pretty soft heart.

From the limbo contest, we segued into the baby name guessing game. Ted and I had decided on names but shared them with no one. A lot of guesses but not one of them came close. Zelda frowned. "You’re seriously not going to tell us the names?"

I shook my head. "I’m definitely not telling you Miss Blabbermouth."

Melinda pouted. "But why, darling? What if someone wants to have a gift engraved with the names, then what? What can they do?"

I laughed. "I suppose they can wait until the birth."

Melinda cast a hopeful look at Ted who shook his head. "Sorry, I’m under strict orders. It’s on a need to know basis."

Ginny giggled. "I don’t blame you. When I got pregnant with Katy, I went round and round with my mom about changing it to Madeline." She rolled her eyes. "Everybody thinks they have a better name than the one you pick."

Ted nodded. "Definitely no shortage of suggestions."

Steve stared at me with narrowed eyes. "Who decided on the names?"

"What difference does that make?" I asked.

Tom laughed. "Because we want to know how whipped Ted is."

Everybody laughed while Ted nodded and took the ribbing. "Oh, so that wasn’t Ginny’s purse I saw you carrying earlier?"

Tom’s cheeks reddened. "She had her hands full with Chelsea."

The crowd erupted in laughter, and nobody cared anymore about the names of the babies. Melinda let them have their fun for a while, then told them all to compose themselves, so we could start the gift opening ceremony. It was worse than our birthdays and Christmas combined. Mountains of diapers, bottles, onesies, booties, blankets, car seats, baby walkers, strollers and gift certificates for every baby boutique in town. Ted’s brothers gave him a simulated breast pump gadget so he could experience the joy of breastfeeding with me. And no Jordan gift-giving event would be complete without a bill from his brothers for slave labor — this time for painting the nursery. I winked at Davis across the mountain of gifts, whose belly was smaller than mine and she was further along. "Feel free to give me a call if you run out of anything."

Wide-eyed, she regarded the stack with wonder. "You people are like your own country."

That got all the brothers into a discussion of what they might name their country and who would be president — which was my cue to announce that cake awaited in the dining room. On the way to the dining room, Eric pulled me aside. "I have the tape transfer for you."

I grabbed his arm. "There was something on it?"

Eric grinned. "Yeah, I think it’s your mom and dad, kind of sweet." He pulled a DVD case out of his pocket and gave it to me. "The tape was ancient but I retrieved as much as I could."

I held it like it was made of gold. "You’re the best, Eric." I gave him a one-armed hug. "Now go, get your cake. You earned it. In fact, I’m going to make you a cake, just as a thank you."

Eric’s dark eyes glistened. "Yeah? What kind of cake?"

I chuckled. "Any kind you want."

Eric grinned and headed for the kitchen. "Hey Zee, Scotti’s going to make me my own Christmas cake. Just for me. No sharesies either."

When I turned back and bumped into a scowling Joe, I lost my grin. "Something wrong, Gramps?"

He huffed and turned toward the dining room.

Ted came up behind me and slipped his arms around my non-existent waist. "You and Joe still spatting?"

I leaned against him and sighed. "Next topic, please."

Ted nuzzled my neck. "Anxious to go home and watch that video?"

I tilted back my head. "Do you think anyone will notice if we leave now?"

<<>>

We watched the five-minute video of Rory and Rose so many times I lost count. It was just a few minutes of them sitting on an beat-up plaid sofa, teasing each other, and making silly jokes. But seeing my parents alive was indescribable. That little bit of tape gave me a way to be with them — to imagine us as a family. It was the most precious and unexpected gift. Rose was obviously pregnant with me, so in a way it was my only family home movie.

Finally I let Ted turn off the video, but I kept staring at the TV screen. "We can run it again if you want."

I turned away from the set. "It’s okay, I can watch it on my own now." I pulled his arm around me. "What do you think? About them?"

He shrugged. "Seem like good people. Obviously loved each other." He looked into my eyes. "Like we do."

I grinned and nodded. "They remind me of us too. You even look a little like my dad." I giggled. "I just said a sentence with the words my dad in it. Wow."

Ted chuckled. "All due respect to your dad, but I’m never getting that rocker dude haircut."

I batted my eyelashes. "You don’t want a mullet? But you’d look so cute."

He tweaked my nose. "Sorry baby, what you see is what you get."

I shimmied to the edge of the sofa. "Then the least you can do is get me some ice cream."

Ted jumped up and helped me to my feet. "Okay princess, what kind do you want?"

I grinned and pinched his butt. "The kind we don’t have."

Ted grabbed his jacket from the chair. "That fudgy stuff in the blue container?"

I clapped my hands. "Yay, you remembered."

He gave me a quick peck on the lips then zipped his jacket. "You want to come with?"

I pinched his butt again. "What’s the fun in having your husband fetch you ice cream if you have to go with him?"

"Why do you always pinch me when you’re being a brat?"

I pointed to the door. "I want ice cream." I cradled my belly. "And so do your kids."

Ted bent down and put his hand on my belly. "Is Mommy telling the truth, kids? Do you want ice cream?" Ted got a one-two. "Damn."

I laughed. Boomer ran into the room and wagged his stub. "Hey Booms you want to go for a ride with Daddy?" Boomer did his twirly dance. "Okay then, Boomer’s riding shotgun."

Ted sighed, scooped up the dog and went for the door. "Don’t get into any trouble before I get back." Ted walked out and a few seconds later, I heard the Escalade pull out of the drive.

I ejected the DVD from the player and put it in its case. The wind howled like a hungry coyote, and I turned toward the sound. Shivering, I wondered why I craved ice cream on such a cold night. I pulled my sweater around me, then went to the kitchen. I locked the DVD in my desk then made a cup of tea. The wind kicked up again and rain pattered at the windows like little fingers tapping to get inside. The sound made me think of Ingrid, and I cradled my belly. "Don’t be scared kids, it’s just the rain. Not Daddy’s crazy ex-girlfriend. I hope."

Then I missed Ted even though he’d only been gone a few minutes. I was antsy and couldn’t sit still, so I went to the back room where all the baby shower gifts awaited me. I put all the soft items, baby clothes, blankets, diapers and stuffed toys and in a wicker basket and left the rest for Ted. From the looks of it, he'd be assembling baby gear until the babies were born. Then I carried the basket up to the nursery.

My mommy hormones purred as I tucked baby clothes and soft pastel blankets into the chest, stacked diapers, and placed stuffed animals around the room. Soon, I’d be dressing my babies in little onesies, bundling them in blankets, and watching them sleep. I hugged my belly in unexpected bliss.

The doorbell rang and I jumped. Ted should’ve been home by then to answer the door and tell whoever it was to go away. The doorbell rang again, and I sighed then went downstairs to answer it. My heart stuttered at the sight of Spencer Atkinson’s face pressed against the side window. I frowned and spoke through the closed door. "What are you doing here?"

Atkinson grinned like we were friends. "Hi Scotti. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I took a step back. "You shouldn’t be here. Please, leave."

His boyish face seemed guileless, but it still gave me the creeps. "Oh come on, I just want to talk for a minute."

I unlocked the door and opened it a crack — the cold air made me shiver. "How did you get my address?"

"Joe gave it to me."

No matter how mad he was at me, Joe would never give my address to a murder defendant. Yet more proof that Atkinson was a liar. "What do you want?"

He put his hand on the door and said, "Can I come in? Just for a minute?"

I propped my foot against the door and shook my head. "No, you can’t."

Atkinson’s grin was peculiar — like he knew a secret. "You don’t like me very much do you?"

I pulled my sweater around me against the draft. "I don’t know you."

He nodded. "Fair enough." He held my gaze for a long moment. "I just wanted to thank you."

I looked past him, watching for Ted. "Thank me for what?"

"All your help on my case."

I looked back to Atkinson. "The person you should be thanking is your lawyer. I just did background work on your case." I sighed. "But you’re welcome. Now please leave."

Atkinson gave me that peculiar grin again. "And my mom too, she’s very grateful." I had no response for that. "She said she’ll return the favor in kind."