“That haunted fair you go to every year?” she asks derisively. “I don’t understand why you like going to those things. I swear there’s a mental condition associated with finding enjoyment out of horror.” She mutters the last part, but not quiet enough for it to clearly transmit through the phone.
Pesky radio signals.
I roll my eyes. “Was there a reason you called, Mom?”
Daya snorts, and I shoot her a glare.
“Yes, I wanted to know what your plans are for Thanksgiving. I expect you and Daya will be visiting?”
I suppress the groan working its way up my throat. Daya and I are like a married couple and split holidays between our families.
She has a large family, and they’ve always welcomed me with open arms. Their get-togethers are loud with laughter and games, and I die of bliss every time I eat their food.
While my family is small and stiff. My mother has mean cooking skills, but she lacks the warmth and comfort, and I usually end up going to bed early and leave in the morning.
“Yep,” I confirm. I roll my lips, contemplating doing something very stupid now that I have her on the phone.
“Hey, uh, Mom?”
“Hmm?” she hums, a note of impatience laced in her tone.
“Can I ask you a few questions about Gigi’s murder?”
Daya’s eyes widen almost comically, and she mouths, “What are you doing?”
She knows as much as I do that Mom might not take well to us investigating Gigi’s murder. But I have to ask.
She might have some valuable information, and getting in an argument with her might be worth it if there’s a possibility of learning something new.
She sighs. “If it’ll convince you to move out of that place.”
I don’t deign her a response to that, letting her believe what she wants if it gets her talking.
“Did you know Grandpa John’s best friend? Frank Seinburg?”
She’s silent for a beat. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” she says. “I didn’t know him personally, but your Nana spoke of him.”
“What did she say about him?”
She sighs. “Just that he was around a lot up until Gigi was murdered, then he kind of disappeared.”
I roll my lips. “Do you know about Grandpa John’s gambling habits?" I push, incapable of keeping the hope out of my tone. Unfortunately, she detects it.
“Why are you asking, Addie?” she deflects with a tired sigh. She’s always weary when it concerns me.
“Because I’m interested, okay? I met Frank’s son,” I admit. “Mark. He talked to me about Gigi. He remembered her, and he brought up some interesting things about John’s gambling.”
I don’t admit that I’m investigating her case myself. I’d prefer she assumes that we happened to have a connection and spoke on it, nothing more.
“How did you even come into contact with a man of that social standing? God, Addie, please tell me you didn’t sell yourself to him.”
A fly could buzz into my mouth, and I wouldn’t notice. My mouth hangs open, and all I can feel is hurt.
“Why… why would you think I’d ever do something like that?” I ask slowly, the heartbreak evident in my tone. I can’t keep it hidden—not when my mother just accused me of being a prostitute.
She’s silent again, and I wonder if she realized she went too far. “Well, then how did you meet him?” she finally asks, deflecting a question I’d really like to know the fucking answer to.
I sniff, deciding to let it go. It doesn’t matter why she thinks it, just that she does.
“Daya has friends in high places. We met at a dinner party and he said I looked familiar, so I told him who I’m related to, and he connected it from there,” I lie, working to keep my voice even. Daya quirks a brow but doesn’t comment.
It feels like an arrow has been shot through my chest—the sensation tight and sharp.
“Your Nana said that John put them in a dangerous situation with his gambling, but not too long before Gigi’s death, it all seemed to go away. He stayed out late and came home short-tempered just to fight with Gigi about whatever he was pissed off about that day.
“Frank was a sponge for their relationship. With their marriage failing, I think he was put in the middle of it a few times. Nana spoke of one incident sometime before Gigi died where she and Frank got in a fight. Nana didn’t remember much about what happened, just that Frank had grabbed Gigi and pushed her on the ground and said something about a betrayal. That’s all I know,” she explains stiffly, as if reciting a verse from the Bible.