Peril for Your Thoughts (Mind Reader Mystery) (12 page)

Bobby’s head whipped up, and he looked sharply between the two of us. “I knew you looked familiar,” he said to me. “You’re friends with the woman who killed my brother, aren’t you?”

“Allegedly,” I said, refastening my top button and scooping my hair back into its twist.

“We’ll ask the questions.” Boomer flashed his badge.

“What is this: good cop bad cop?” Bobby asked warily.

“More like sidekick central,” I muttered.

“What do you want from me?”

“How about the truth?” Boomer demanded. “Larry Miller said you checked into the Clearview Motel the same day as your brother. So why lie about it? And why didn’t you come forward when we were looking for his next of kin?”

“My brother and I didn’t exactly get along. Scott was a big gambler. He owed the wrong people a lot of money. It was ruining his life. I found out about his alias and went after him. I wanted to make amends and help him, but he wouldn’t listen. So I waited at the hotel for him to get back from his date with another woman, except he never came back. I panicked and hid out, hoping the killer would be caught. Then Wilma showed up and saw me. She’s never liked me. I was with her today to try to explain why I didn’t come forward. She didn’t believe me. That’s why I’m here now.” He lifted his beer and took a long swig.

“Maybe she’s onto something. Why didn’t you and your brother get along?” Boomer asked. “Did you hate him enough to kill him? Who doesn’t come forward when his own flesh and blood has been murdered?”

The blond giant stared us down. “I told you I was trying to make amends and help my brother, that was all. I did not kill him.”

“What I want to know is if Wilma didn’t like you, then why didn’t she rat you out when I confronted her in front of the funeral home earlier today?” I asked, earning an impressed look from Boomer. “You were inside, completely oblivious to our presence. We would have had you trapped.”

“Probably because she has a secret of her own,” Bobby said with pure venom, and it was obvious he disliked her as much as she did him.

“Interesting,” I responded. “Care to enlighten us?”

“Wilma is pregnant,” Bobby said.

“Shocking.” Detective Matheson put his notebook away. “Don’t waste our time.”

“Hear me out,” Bobby hastily added. “Wilma’s pregnancy might not be shocking, but I have a piece of information that is full of shock value.”

We waited not so patiently while Bobby drew out the drama, rivaling the best of the Ballas clan, and that was saying something. When Boomer reached for his cuffs, Bobby dropped the bomb.

“My brother Scott was sterile.”

Saturday evening Jaz and I invited both detectives to a spaghetti dinner at our house so we could compare notes. Jaz was a great cook. She had even used whole-wheat pasta for me, yet made it taste amazing. And I had to admit, both men
looked
amazing. Boomer wore dark-blue dress jeans and a soft cotton T-shirt in burnt orange, while Nik had on fawn Dockers and a baby-blue Polo shirt. I wore a pair of beige dress slacks with a mauve silk shirt, and I had even relented to Jaz’s insistence that I leave my hair down.

“I can’t believe Wilma took a life insurance policy out on Scott right before he died and didn’t think it would look suspicious,” Jaz said to Detective Matheson, looking pretty as a petunia in her yellow spring dress.

“After we intercepted Wilma at the train station, thanks to Bobby cooperating, we ordered her not to leave town,” I replied, having a hard time stopping myself from always taking the lead, much to Boomer’s displeasure based on the way he was looking at me. I quickly added, “Then Detective Matheson used his impressive connections, while I used the Internet, and we did some digging all day yesterday.” I cut my salad into tiny pieces, garnering me a strange look from him. I couldn’t win, so I gave up trying and put my fork down.

“I guess Wilma knew about Scott’s gambling problem,” I went on, “but she was willing to forgive him even though she was lonely. In a moment of weakness, she got pregnant and hoped that would save their marriage, but it turns out he was sterile and never told her. She asked for a divorce, but he threatened to expose her if she left him. Turns out he only married her because of her father’s money. She didn’t want the scandal, but she was heard vowing to find a way to make him pay.” I picked up my water glass.

“Any idea who the father is?” Detective Stevens asked before taking a sip of his red wine.

“No, but she’s not the only one with more to her story,” Detective Matheson interjected around a mouthful of pasta. This time I gave him a judgmental look that didn’t go unnoticed. He finished chewing, wiped his mouth, and continued. “Scott and Bobby were raised by their grandfather. I guess the old man had a lot of money. All their lives, Scott was the one who kept getting into trouble and screwing up, until their grandfather disowned him when he was eighteen. Scott got a job selling used cars, becoming a pro at wheeling and dealing, while Bobby remained the golden boy. Some kind of scandal happened years ago, but no one knows the details. Just that suddenly Scott was the favorite, and Bobby disappeared for several months. The grandfather died and left all of his money to Scott, and Bobby suddenly reappeared. That’s when the rift between them occurred.”

“I’m guessing Scott gambled away his inheritance, and that’s when he found Wilma,” Jaz said in disgust. “With his looks and charm, I’m sure he swept her off her feet before she had a clue what his real motivation was: her money.”

“Exactly. Now we just need to find out where Bobby disappeared to and why he was no longer the favorite, then we’ll have some answers,” I said. “There are still so many questions, like who is the father of Wilma’s baby, and does he have a connection to Scott? Also, did she take out that life insurance policy because she knew Scott was going to die?”

“I’m impressed, Ms. Ballas,” Nik said, locking eyes with me. “Not bad for a rookie.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling heat creep into my cheeks, yet finding great pleasure in his words.

Boomer grunted, and Jaz kicked him under the table. Nik flashed a look that said,
Really
? and Boomer asked, “How about you guys? Any more luck with figuring out who the mole is?”

“Sully Anderson, the UPS guy, wasn’t around to question because he conveniently went away on vacation as of yesterday,” Nik said after checking his notes. “He should be back in a few days, so I’ll question him then.”

“Yeah, and my student employee, Amy Fisher, is smarter than she looks,” Jaz said, talking with her hands like she always did. Except she had her fork in her hand, with food still attached. My eyes never left the fork, terrified the half-eaten meatball was going to fly off. “Amy quit,” Jaz continued, “and is now working for Vixen, claiming she can’t wait around for my store to reopen. That she has to think of her career first, and with the recent scandal, Vixen is a better fit as an internship for her resume. Ha!” Swipe went her hand, and the meatball went sailing across the room. Prissy pounced and ate it, I gagged, and Jaz stabbed another meatball and started in again. “Anastasia was only too happy to give Amy a job, of course. Meanwhile, Amy claims innocence about any knowledge regarding my treasures and suggested we speak with her boyfriend who’s a lawyer if we have any further questions …”

“So basically we got nowhere,” Nik cut her off, bless the man.

“What about your cleaning crew?” I asked, knowing we needed answers but terrified she would pick up the fork she had finally,
thankfully
, dropped.

“They barely speak English and don’t seem to have a clue about the fashion industry, not that they need to, to do their jobs.” She picked up a piece of bread this time, absentmindedly ripping off chunks and sending crumbs flying all about, which wasn’t much better. “They apparently moved on as well. Why can’t I hire loyal people? At this point, I won’t have a staff to reopen with anyway. Thank God for my online business, or I would seriously start to get worried.”

My phone chose that moment to ring, thank the Lord. I glanced at the caller ID, and lost my appetite altogether. I excused myself and went into the kitchen for privacy. “Natasha, great to hear from you,” I lied.

“I thought I would check in and see how your book of designs is coming along,” she said pleasantly enough, but I couldn’t help but think there was an underlying meaning.

“Oh, it’s coming,” I lied again, thinking going to church twice tomorrow might not be a bad idea.

“You do know what today is, don’t you?”

And there was that edge I was getting more and more familiar with, I thought. I responded as innocently as I could, “Saturday?”

“Exactly. Don’t forget, your deadline is one week away.”

“Is that what Mr. Erickson says?”

“I told you. I am in charge of promotion. He might have hired you, but I can make or break you. I’m only being so tough on you because I know how hard it is for a woman to succeed.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, Ms. Ballas, you need to be better than your best. You need to be perfect, and it better be worth my time. One week. No excuses.” The line went dead.

No pressure
.

Another Sunday brunch after church with my family. And shock of all shockers, Nikos and his Ma, Chloe, were invited. Her visit had turned into a full week now. The woman was retired, and I was terrified her “visit” would turn into a permanent stay.

Where was Frona when I needed her?

I glanced around and noticed the full gang was here this week. Ma and Pop, Dido and Yiayia. My aunts and uncles and too many Ballases to name. Lights were strung all over the gazebo, with statues and fountains gracing the yard and enough food to feed a small army.

My gaze settled on Jaz, who was flirting outrageously with my cousins Kosmos and Silas. I frowned. First of all, she was here, which was surprising enough. And second, she knew the rules. But then I realized the reason for the flirting. Boomer Matheson. What on earth had my mother been thinking?

The deeper we got into spring, the crazier my mother became. It didn’t take a full moon to bring out her wild side. All it took was mating season, and she became possessed with spring fever. She had babies on the brain. There wasn’t a single person she didn’t set her sights on when it came to matchmaking. It was like a disease with her.

And there wasn’t enough sanitizer in sight.

That was the only reason Jaz was here. Even Ma could see there was something between Boomer and Jaz. It didn’t matter that Ma disliked Jaz. Ma couldn’t resist the challenge of matching them up. She just hadn’t counted on Jaz messing with her plans by flirting with her nephews. Eleni intercepted Ma before she had a chance to give Jaz a piece of her mind, and I made a beeline for my best friend.

“What, pray tell, are you doing here … trying to start World War III?” I hissed.

“What can I say, I’m bored. And your cousins are fun. And there’s great food.”

“And Boomer’s here,” I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I don’t care what you think you heard, I’m not into him. I broke up with him, remember?”

“And we both know why, because you liked him
too
much.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“And you’re out of your league. You’re surrounded by an army of Ballases. You’re outnumbered big-time, sweetie. You do the math.”

“Fine. I’ll behave. Now quit worrying about me. You might want to worry about yourself because you’re the one who’s going to need rescuing soon.”

I followed her gaze and saw my mother falling all over Nikos, trying to feed him, of course. He accepted more food on his already heaping plate without hesitation. He knew exactly how to hold his own with a Greek mama. He wasn’t the one who needed saving. I was. I swallowed hard and watched with great trepidation as his ma headed in my direction, but she wasn’t carrying food. What she carried was far more dangerous, and she didn’t hold it in her hands. She held in her eyes.

A look of stubborn determination.

“Kalliope Ballas, as I live and breathe, you look beautiful today,” she said, coming to a stop way too close, with no regard to personal space.

I resisted the urge to lean back. Instead, I smiled gracefully. “Thank you, Mrs. Stevens. I always wear my Sunday best to church.”

“Your mama raised you right, and please, call me Chloe. I haven’t been a Mrs. in quite some time.” She looked wistful, and I didn’t have to touch her to feel her longing. “That man was a stallion in the bedroom,” her face turned sour, “but a stubborn mule in the rest of his life.” She winked. “My Nikos got the best of both of us. My dark good looks, his Pop’s stunning blue eyes and body, and my fun-loving ways. He loves to fool and have fun and eat.” She looked me over carefully. “You look like you could use a good dose of all of those.” She grabbed my hand. “Don’t worry, honey, he’ll fix you right up.”

Oh, love is so grand, I miss it so. Everyone deserves to find happiness, especially my Niki. And you, my dear, are adorable. A mystery, yet stubborn and strong and independent. Exactly what my Niki needs. The things my baby boy could do to you. He could teach you so much. He is his father’s son, after all. He could fix you. Darling, you’re wound up so tight, what hot-blooded man wouldn’t want to unwind your coils, pop your springs, and—

“Ma, what are you doing to the poor woman? She looks like she’s about to faint,” Nik’s voice said from somewhere close by as Chloe was pulled away from me and let go of my hand. “For that matter, so do you. Are you feeling okay?”

We both blinked at each other like we’d been lost in a fantasy together and had been oblivious to the world. For once in my life, I actually hadn’t wanted to let go, and that scared me even more than the germs that must be crawling all over my palm now.

“Opa, I need a drink!” She cleared her throat and walked away on wobbly legs.

I stared after her, reaching into my purse and absently pulling out my hand sanitizer to scrub my hands, my gaze still glued to her retreating back in wonder.

“Earth to Kalli, I said are
you
okay?” Nik touched my shoulder then dropped his hand immediately, but I’d felt the tingle in places I had no business feeling anything.

“I-I’m fine,” I said and faced him, knowing my cheeks were bright red. “I see you finally escaped my mother.” We started walking together, away from everyone to the edge of our yard under a big tree where it was less noisy and there was less chance of getting cornered by the mamas again.

“She’s harmless,” he said, his face softening. “I actually find her charming.”

“That’s one word for her.”

“My mother on the other hand is—”

“Sweet,” I said and meant it. “She loves you and only wants you to be happy.” We came to a stop and faced each other.

“I could say the same about your mother. What exactly did my ma say to you?”

“Um, it wasn’t exactly what she said, but I could tell she has spring fever same as my ma. It must be a Greek mama thing.”

“Spring fever?” he asked, his lips tipping up in a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“Yeah, you know,” I said in a teasing voice, “the birds and the bees and all that.”

“All that would be?” His thick brow crept up, his lopsided grin speaking volumes.

He was toying with me, pushing me to say it. I was a big girl. I could play along. “All that talk about spring being the season of rebirth.”

“Ah, the mating season,” he said.

“That would be the one. I guess the idea of reproduction and making babies ignites a fever in our mamas. Hence the term
spring fever
. It makes them all hot and bothered, and then they bother everyone else.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as his gaze dropped to my lips. “Good thing we’re not each other’s types.” He took a step toward me.