“Carry on no matter what.” I figure Rex knows what I mean, and he walks me into the corridor. “I’ll be around in the morning,” I say to him. “Let me know when you get a confirmation with the drug screen.”
“I know you didn’t really resign,” he says. “Screw Elvin Reddy. Don’t let him run you off. The way people are acting is because of his influence, Kay. You’re the most hopeful thing that’s happened around here, the only chance of getting rid of that influence.”
“For now, it seems he’s gotten his way,” I reply. “But thanks, Rex.” I can feel him watch as I head back to the stairwell.
Maybe Lucy hasn’t lost her touch but I’m worried I may have lost mine. Second thoughts and misgivings are seizing my thoughts, and it plagues me that Cammie’s death will be left unsolved. Once I’m out of the picture, the labs will stop the analysis I told them to restart. Her case will be ignored again, and her family will never get the satisfaction they deserve.
Wyatt is opening the bay door as I walk through, letting in a hearse, and I tell him good night.
“I heard about you quitting,” he says. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Thank you, Wyatt,” I reply. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Climbing into my Subaru, I start it up. I listen to music on the radio all the way home, in no mood to chat with anyone else, dreading what my sister will have to say when she hears the news. Probably she already has, and I imagine Marino getting her lubricated with cosmopolitans, maybe the apple martinis she’s fond of, and lowering the boom.
He’ll let her know I didn’t resign, if he hasn’t already. I was fired, and they aren’t staying here if Benton, Lucy and I don’t. If we return to Massachusetts, so will Dorothy and Marino, and from there it’s simple to script what will happen. She’ll feign shock and upset, and I’ll hear about it forever.
How terrible for me. How unfair, and she’ll hound me with endless advice and questions, all the while secretly pleased by my failure. It’s time to clear out the negativity, I tell myself as I reach the house. I don’t need Lucy worrying about me, and she must have seen me on her many cameras.
In a sweat suit, sneakers and her bomber jacket, she’s waiting by the carriage house when I pull up. She lifts one of the wooden rolling doors, her flat-eared cat pacing nearby, his tail twitching. I wait until she picks him up, making sure he’s safely out of the way as I tuck my take-home car inside. Climbing out, we pull down the door together, and I give her the hug I wanted to give her earlier.
“Lucy, you were amazing today,” I say as we walk to the house. “And it seems your aunt can’t stay out of trouble.”
THE NEWS IS PLAYING as I unlock the front door, and Merlin follows us to the kitchen where spicy ground beef is simmering on the stove, a cookie sheet lined with taco shells, and my stomach growls. An aged a?ejo tequila is on the countertop next to a shaker filled with ice, and two glasses.
Lucy pulls her pistol from the back of her sweatpants, placing it on a countertop. Her pump action shotgun is parked in a corner, and I ask her about it.
“I don’t walk back and forth to my place without protection,” she explains. “Not anymore with all that’s going on. Plus, Mom’s nervous, and nothing better for home protection than a shotgun.”
“That’s a scary thought.” I’m not eager to think what might happen if Dorothy decided to defend the fort. “I guess she’s planning on staying here for a while.” Opening a drawer, I get out napkins and silverware.
“Things are tough at Colonial Landing.” Lucy takes off her jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair. “The media’s all over the place, and people are showing up, gawking. Dana Diletti is still at it if you can believe that. I guess being a suspect in her own attempted home breakin doesn’t matter. If anything, she’s more popular, trending all over the Internet.”
“I’m sure she’ll say the police planted the evidence or something to that effect.”
“She’s already saying it. You ready for a drink?”
I couldn’t be readier, I tell her. But there’s one order of business I need to take care of first.
“The wine downstairs,” I explain as I think about what I just saw in the trace evidence lab. “I want to check just in case there’s any chance that bottle wasn’t the only one tampered with.”
“I think you’re worrying too much,” she says, wearing the bracelet I gave her.