Death of the Family Recipe (A Scotti Fitzgerald Murder Mystery Book 3) (50 page)

We walked the gauntlet to the staircase, with eyes peeking and mouths smiling at us. But we made it to the nursery without waking the babies. Jennifer and Melinda wrangled the troops downstairs, while we lingered and watched our babies sleep for a few minutes. Ted put his arm around me. "You really batted it out of the park with these two honey."

I leaned into him and sighed. "We really did, didn’t we?"

Friends and family were in and out all day. Each taking turns holding the babies and dispensing sage advice to me and them. Katy and Chelsea were beyond excited over their new sister-brother-cousins and begged Ginny to make them a set. Zelda wept as she held them, then smacked me for making such perfect babies that they made her cry. Melinda and Jennifer helped me demystify the secrets of the breast pump but not before wasting lots of breast milk and shooting myself in the eye with the stuff. Tasty, though.

And contrary to what Val thought, I managed to get some sleep those first few days. The whole clan pitched in and worked in shifts to ensure we got our rest and the babies were taken care of. But once we figured out how to manage life with two very tiny human beings depending on us for their every need, we sent everybody home. It was hard at first, but we got the hang of it, just like any other new parents. And we settled into a routine. Jennifer and Melinda still came by daily because they were so enamored of the babies, they simply couldn’t stay away. And for better or worse, they had appointed themselves my moms. So there.

About three weeks after we brought Rosie and Rory home, I got a little stir crazy. I hadn’t left the house for any reason and seriously wondered if there was life beyond my big house. I fed the babies and put them down for their evening nap. I say nap because little babies don’t believe that sleeping more than two hours at a time is that much fun. Then after twenty minutes of tugging I got my old jeans zipped up and went downstairs. When I went into the kitchen, Melinda was cooking, and Ted was eating pie. I frowned at Ted. "Dessert before dinner, honey?"

Ted smiled tiredly. "Pie any time, babe."

I grabbed my keys and bag from my office and headed for the door. Melinda put her hand on my shoulder. "And where do you think you’re going, young lady?"

I stared at the door longingly. "I’m dying for some matzo ball soup."

Ted stood up. "I’ll get it."

I pushed him back onto his stool. "No, I’ll get it. I haven’t been out of this house for three weeks. And if you count the hospital stay, it’s been almost six weeks since I’ve mingled with civilization. This little bird needs to spread her wings and fly again."

Melinda turned down the oven and took off her apron. "Fine, I’ll go with you."

I held up my hands. "Would you two relax? It’s a five-minute drive. I’m perfectly capable of driving three blocks to get soup. And chances are I’ll be able to find my way home again too." I played with the locket around my neck. "Even without electronic devices."

Ted made a face and I pointed at him. "You want your face to freeze that way?" I laughed. "You two just go about your business, and I’ll be back in a few minutes."

I went out the door, flapping my hands at their protests.

It felt good to drive without having a big belly in my way — even though my belly was still bigger than it used to be, at least it didn’t graze the steering wheel anymore. And my too tight jeans held it in. I buzzed down the windows and let my hair blow crazy while I zipped over to Billy’s. When I pulled into the lot, the sun was painting the sky pink and purple on its way out the door. Life was good. So damn good that I laughed.

When I stepped into Billy’s just the smell in the air made my tummy do cartwheels and my mouth water. I ordered two large cartons of matzo soup and drank a Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda while I waited. The cashier gave me extra matzo because they were closing, and I gave her a big tip before she rushed me out and locked the door behind me.

The parking lot was only a few storefronts down from the restaurant, but the dark quiet street made me move quickly toward the safety of the car. My sneakers scudded against the pavement and the plastic bags swished as I walked — somewhere, night-blooming jasmine opened to the evening air, and I breathed in the sweet scent.

As I turned into the lot I caught a flash of something near the car. My heart ponged against my chest, and I tightened the grip on the bag of soup. I used the key fob to release the car locks with a chirp. My heart slowed, and I chided myself. "You really need to get out more, Scotti." When I was a few feet from the car, Ingrid stepped out from behind it. You’d think I’d be scared, but mostly I was annoyed. I scowled at her. "Seriously Ingrid, you need to find a new hobby."

She took a few steps toward me and her shadow was like those exaggerated ones in old 60s horror movies. "I told you this wasn’t over."

I rolled my eyes and put my hand on my hip. "Actually, it’s over for everybody but you. Why don’t you crawl back under the rock you came from and leave the rest of mankind alone?"

Ingrid blinked — surprised by my flip attitude. I supposed she expected to scare me, but after everything I'd been through Ingrid was more like a fly in my face than anything else. I shrugged at her. "Maybe you should quit while you’re ahead, you know? We unhacked my phone, you’re blocked on my instant messaging, and the Glendale police are looking for you." I chuckled. "I have to say that little doorbell ringing stunt was brilliant." I sighed. "But Ted still doesn’t want you back."

She stared at me, then tried the passenger door. I smiled. "Amateur." Just for good measure, I hit the key fob and locked the driver’s door too." So you can’t get in my car, now what Ingrid?"

Silently she stepped out into the open and glared at me — one hand on her hip and the other to her side. If I’d been a photographer, I’d have wanted a shot of it — the way the moonlight hit one side of her while leaving the other in shadow was quite striking. I took a couple steps closer to my car. My pocket buzzed — no doubt Ted wondering where the hell I was. "Speaking of Ted, that must be him, wondering what’s keeping his loving wife."

When I reached for my phone, Ingrid charged me. I dropped the phone and it skittered across the pavement. The crazy Amazon wielded a knife and barreled toward me. I have to say, I didn’t expect that. I dropped my handbag off my shoulder, tightened my grip on the soup bag and ran toward her with everything I had. I cocked back my arm and as we converged in the middle, I swung the bag of soup at her and scored. Ingrid screeched and fell back. The knife clip-clopped over the pavement, and she screamed with her hands to her face. "My face, my face!"

Yeah, that soup was pretty hot and my arm stung like a mother, so I could only imagine how it felt to get a carton of it in the face. Not good. I kicked the knife away and retrieved my phone. As I was calling Glendale PD, Ted screeched up in the Escalade. He jumped out of the car and ran to me. "Scotti what the hell?" Ingrid’s screaming drew his eyes to her flailing on the pavement. "What the fuck?"

I sighed. "So much for soup tonight. Damn it."

I have to be honest, seeing Ingrid on the ground screaming about her face horrified me in a way, but it also felt good. Like I’d slayed a dragon or at least a Rottweiler. Sorry, but I’d save my empathy for someone who deserved it. As it turned out, she wasn’t hurt that bad and didn’t need plastic surgery or skin grafts — but makeup application might be a bitch for a while. She’d have plenty of time to heal because she was going back to the psychiatric hospital she’d apparently broken out of a few months before. All in all, it seemed like a fair outcome to me.

Over the next few weeks, Ted and I adjusted to new parenthood, and I have to say we did a damn fine job of it. We learned to decipher what each expression and sound meant and went from newbies to pros in short order. Ted embraced fatherhood with both hands, and I sometimes wondered if he was a better mother than I was. But having a great father isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a couple of kids.

Boomer was fascinated by new his siblings and alerted us whenever Rosie or Rory needed something. After we disabused him of sleeping in their crib, he became a pretty awesome nurse mate to our little bundles of joy.

On other fronts, Spencer Atkinson was in prison, and though he had a new legal defense team, his chances of an appeal seemed slim. Kathy Morrissey rolled over on her precious stepson and confessed to aiding and abetting, my abduction and assault and the death of my mother, Rose. She cut a deal with the D.A. but happily she’d spend the rest of her life behind bars.

William Hyden was also adjusting to new parenthood. He changed his daughter’s name to Tina in honor of her mother and I imagined she’d become the center of his universe. He signed a six-figure book deal with a major publisher to write his story. With any luck, he’d write, direct and star in the movie when it was made.

And balance was restored to my life. Jennifer and Jason became regular fixtures around the house and part of the family gatherings and celebrations. Melinda and Jennifer constantly vied for nana sitting as they liked to call it. The babies were fine with coddling from both of their nanas and happy to be in their company.

Ted finally went back to work and so did I. Not out on the truck because I just couldn’t be that far away from my kids. But we baked together. I, at the stove and ovens while they cooed in the office nursery. We talked recipes, proper food storage and discussed a new line of organic baby cupcakes I was considering.

Thanks to Ted’s brother Dave, my garden produced a bounty of fresh veggies, and I added homemade baby food to my repertoire. They were still a little young, but I knew they’d love it when the time came for solid food.

In between all of that, Joe and I buried the hatchet. I went back to work for him, doing research and background checks from my home office. And on the side learned a few computer hack-tricks from Eric. Rest assured, my phone would never be hacked again.

After about four months the babies started sleeping through the night — which meant we could too. Not long after that, Ted started chasing me around the kitchen again. I never knew I could feel so happy and content, and I thanked God every day for bringing me the peace that I felt.

As my final act of putting everything right, and after lots of forms, requests and red tape, we put Rose and Rory to rest, side by side. It seemed only right that they should finally be together again and forever. We had a small ceremony with the family, and I got to say goodbye to my mother and father. On Rory’s coffin I lay Rose’s ring and her necklaces that I’d worn those last few months. On Rose’s coffin I lay Rory’s poem and a picture of me with her grandchildren. "Take care of each other, Mom and Dad. We love you."

Jennifer hugged me tight. "You’ve made them both very happy. I just know it."

Eventually, everyone drifted away to their cars and left. Ted and I lingered, holding our babies and feeling the sun on our backs. He put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. "You did it, babe. You made things right."

I nodded and said, "I’ve been thinking."

He chuckled. "That’s never a good opening statement."

"I need to make a few changes. I can’t keep chasing after bad guys like I’ve been." Ted stared at me as though waiting for a trick to reveal itself. I laughed. "I’m serious."

Ted kissed my forehead. "I’m glad to hear it but what now? Are you going to be happy with just baking and babies?" He smiled. "And me?"

I stared at my parents’ graves and sighed. "All of the things that happened to Rose and to me. Life could have been so different for both of us."

Ted pulled me closer. "I know honey. I’m sorry."

I shook my head and looked up at him. "No, this isn’t about being sad. I’m over all that. I got justice for my mother, and that’s what I wanted. But I know what having gone through all that heartache does to you. And how it can screw up your life."

Ted nodded. "And?"

"And I’ve decided to put my considerable investigative skills to work helping people like me." I looked into my husband's beautiful green eyes and smiled. "To find their kids, or their parents." I shrugged. "The people they’ve lost or who lost them. So that what happened to us can make sense. So something good can come out of it." I sought approval in my husband's eyes. "What do you think?"

Ted put his hand in my hair and smiled. "I think Rose would’ve loved that."

The End.

About the Author

Anita Rodgers has always loved a good mystery – starting with her dad’s collection of Mickey Spillane novels. And she learned early on that her love of solving puzzles and making stuff up was a perfect skill set for mystery writing. The Scotti Fitzgerald Mystery series was inspired by her many years of slinging burgers and waiting tables in a wide array of eating establishments – from fine dining to greasy spoons.

She is also the author of the mystery, False Witness, which is available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers. Anita resides in Southern California, where she enjoys hiking, gardening and of course reading. Her blog can be found at:
http://www.writerchick.wordpress.com
. Follow her on Twitter @WCAnnie, and Facebook at:
https://www.facebook.com/AnitaRodgersMysteryWriter

Thank You

I thank you sincerely for reading my work and hope you have enjoyed it. I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d take a few minutes to write an honest review of this book on the site where you purchased it. Next to a pen, reader’s feedback is the most valuable thing in the world to a writer. And I look forward to yours.