Carrots: A Shelby Nichols Adventure (16 page)

The air was heavy with the smell of roasted chicken and enchilada sauce with cheese when Chris walked in. I could tell he appreciated the aroma, when he closed the door and inhaled deeply. I was cutting up tomatoes for a salad, and practically threw down my knife.

“Hi.” I quickly wrapped my arms around him while he was distracted, and hugged him tight. He dropped his briefcase, and his arms closed around me. So far, so good.

“What are you cooking?” he asked. “It smells wonderful.”

“Chicken enchiladas,” I smiled up at him. “They’ll be done in about fifteen minutes.” He looked into my eyes, and I leaned up to kiss him. Our lips met and he groaned. I deepened the kiss, giving him a promise of what was to come.

He pulled back, out of breath. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.”

This time he took control, and pinned me against the counter, capturing my lips with bruising force. It was a few seconds later that the shrill beeping of the timer went off and we pulled apart.

“Hold that thought,” I said, and breathlessly turned off the oven. Before I could grab him again, he picked up his brief case and held it in front of him like a shield. “What are you doing that for?” I asked, disappointed.

“You know exactly why I’m doing this. You think you can use your body to get out of talking to me. Well, you can’t.”

“Are you sure about that? It looks like it’s working to me.”

Chris held back a smile, and shook his head. “Shelby, I wasn’t even sure you’d be here when I came home. Why didn’t you call me back?”

“I didn’t have a chance, and by the time I got through with the meeting, I barely had enough time to get Savannah from school. I guess I could have called you when I got home, but I figured you’d be home soon, and I put it off. I guess, mostly because I knew you’d be mad since I didn’t call you. So I probably just made it all worse, but you have to remember that you weren’t happy last night either.”

I probably shouldn’t have reminded him, since he’d nearly forgotten it himself. In fact, the main thing over-riding all his thoughts was worry. He’d been worried about me, and by not calling, he’d been afraid something was wrong, and this time, maybe I wasn’t coming home. It was something he didn’t want to admit, even to himself.

“Oh, Chris,” I reached for him. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you just…you’re not supposed to do that.” He wasn’t really mad, but he was tired of blocking his thoughts all the time. Something had to give.

I smiled at him. “Let’s eat and then we can talk.”

He was thinking of something else he’d rather do, and my heart skipped a beat at his sudden change of direction. He leaned down to kiss me when Joshua breezed through.

“Is dinner ready?” Josh saw what we were doing, and was filled with embarrassment. “I’m starving here.”

“Yes.” I turned away from Chris. “I just need to finish the salad. Why don’t you guys set the table?”

The next half hour things seemed almost normal. I kept my mental shields up and realized I was getting better at it, although I couldn’t totally relax. I was also learning not to respond when I did pick something up. That was harder to do, especially when what they were thinking needed to be straightened out. The urge to correct them was hard to suppress, but I found there were other ways to do it that didn’t ruffle any feathers.

It wasn’t until we were getting ready for bed that Chris and I could finally talk without interruption. “So,” Chris began. “Kate said she saw you at the police station. What were you doing there?”

“You told me Dimples called yesterday. I couldn’t get through to him, so I went down to the station to see what he wanted. That’s when I ran into Kate. Do you know what kinds of clients she has? I didn’t think your firm handled those kinds of cases.”

“What kinds of cases?”

“The ones where the guy you’re defending is guilty. That’s what Dimples needed me for, to find out if the guy was guilty. Since I’d been able to help him before, he decided to ask again. Kate turned out to be the guy’s lawyer and she came in for the questioning. When she asked what I was doing there, I told her I was starting my own consulting business. See how easily it happened? That was the only thing I could think of to say.”

“Yes.” Chris let out a breath, thinking how easy it had become for me to tell a lie. “So, I take it he was guilty?”

“Yes.” It hurt that he thought I was becoming a liar and I couldn’t squelch the simmering indignation. “I only lie because I have to cover up the fact that I can read minds. But I don’t enjoy it. I hate it. It’s hard to know things about people.”

“Shelby…I’m sure it’s hard. I wish it had never happened. I keep hoping that maybe it will go away.”

“Me too.” I leaned into his arms for comfort, and hoped our conversation was over. He had questions about Thrasher Development that I didn’t want to answer, so I decided to take his mind off them the best way I knew how.

He pulled away from my kiss with a raised brow. “You’re distracting me again.”

“I know.”

Instead of protesting, he pushed me onto the bed, and grabbed my arms. I yelped, realizing his intentions a second too late, and he began tickling me without mercy. One thing led to another and it wasn’t until much later that I was resting peacefully beside him. His breathing deepened, and I congratulated myself that I’d accomplished my goal. Then his deep voice startled me. “Did you know Thrasher Development is owned by Joey Manetto?”

His unexpected question gave me a shock, and my heart sped up. It took me a minute to answer. “Mr. Manetto’s first name is Joey?” I tried to put as much unbelief in my voice as I could.

“So, you know him?”

“I’ve met him. Briefly.” If Chris could hear my heart pounding, he’d know I was lying through my teeth.

He rose up on one elbow, and leaned over me. “Shelby, this guy’s bad. He’s a mob boss, and I don’t want you working for him.”

“What?” I tried to act surprised.

“I want you to quit your job.”

“Wow, a mob boss? How did you find out?”

He was thinking that was a pretty dumb question since he was a lawyer, and knew stuff like that. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you quit working for him. I don’t want you getting involved in any of his business. I know you just started, but there’s got to be something else you could do.”

“Umm…I guess I could quit. I certainly don’t want to be involved with criminals.”

“Good, do it as soon as you can.”

“Sure, first thing Monday morning.”

He lay back down, relieved I hadn’t put up a fuss. “I’ve been thinking about your new talents. Since you seem to be stuck with them, it might be a good idea to put them to use, and make a little money while you’re at it, since you want to have a career and all. What do you think?”

“You mean, like a detective agency?”

“No, nothing dangerous, but I’m sure there’s something else. We’ll have to think about it.” Thoughts of playing poker in Las Vegas briefly crossed his mind, but he wasn’t sure I knew how to play. He was right, but I could learn, couldn’t I? “Oh, before I forget, we probably ought to turn in the rental car tomorrow.”

My heart sank. “I don’t want to turn it in until I have another one to replace it.”

“Maybe we can look for a car tomorrow,” Chris replied.

“Yeah, if there’s time, that would be good.” We said goodnight, and I spent the next few hours tossing and turning. I should have known Chris would find out who owned Thrasher Development. Maybe he’d known it all along.

Somehow, I’d have to figure out a way to keep the car until Monday. Hopefully by then, I’d know who Uncle Joey had killed so we could put him behind bars permanently. In truth, it was about the only way I could quit my job.

***

The next morning was Saturday, and after my unsettled sleep, I woke up late. Chris and Josh had already left for their soccer game, and I decided it would be a good time for me to go to the library. It was the best place I could think to do some research on the man Uncle Joey killed. I just had to find out who he was. I showered and got ready, dropping Savannah off at her friend’s house on the way.

The archives were in the basement, and it took a while to get settled in and find the newspapers on microfilm I wanted. I decided to go back twenty-two years to make sure I didn’t miss anything. The first two years of newspapers, I spent way too much time reading everything. After that I decided to just check for murders, and if there wasn’t a picture included, I checked the obituaries as well.

I went through eight years in three hours with no luck, and my heart fell. How could it not be there? Uncle Joey couldn’t have covered the whole thing up, could he? Maybe I hadn’t gone back far enough.

This time I went back thirty years and started over, pinning all my hopes of success that I would find something. Another hour and two years later, my heart skipped a beat when I scanned the page and there was a photo of him. Stephen Cohen. He was a handsome man, with dark blond hair and a nice smile. Uncle Joey’s memory had faded some, but I recognized his eyes. They were deep and penetrating in the picture, like he was looking into your soul. Just as they had when Uncle Joey stabbed him.

The headline read, “Prominent Lawyer Murdered” and stated that he had been killed in his own home when he walked in on a burglary. Luckily, his wife and young child were away at the time.

I gasped and fought off a chill when I read the name of the law firm he had worked for. It was Cohen, Larsen, and Pratt, the same firm where Chris worked. The article continued, saying that the victim had died of a stab wound. At least they got that right. The knife had been found along with several stolen articles in the trunk of a known thief, and they had the man in custody. The police said it was an open and closed case, given all the circumstantial evidence. I cringed, knowing they’d sent the wrong man to prison.

Could this man be out of prison by now? Was he the person who had killed Johnny for revenge? It probably had nothing to do with it and I was grasping at straws. Even so, that didn’t change the fact that Uncle Joey had killed Stephen Cohen. That knowledge had to be good for something, right?

I put everything back, and was shocked it was so late. What excuse could I give Chris? It always took me a long time to go shopping, and since I couldn’t think of anything better, I stopped at the mall and looked through all the clearance items. I found some really cute clothes on sale. A black skirt with turquoise paneling, paired with a turquoise v-neck cardigan looked fantastic. When I tried them on they fit so well I had to buy them. Of course, I had to get some black pumps to go with the outfit. But they were on sale too, so altogether, I saved more than I spent. Is that even possible? There’s nothing like a good shopping trip to make me happy.

I was putting my new purchases in the trunk when my cell phone rang. Chris was probably wondering what had happened to me. My excuse was cut short when I realized it was Uncle Joey instead. What did he want? I almost didn’t answer, but knew I didn’t really have a choice.

“Hello?”

“You left so fast yesterday that you forgot to leave a cancelled check,” he said.

“Oh, that’s right,” I started to apologize, but he cut me off.

“It’s okay. I’ve opened an account for you at my bank. You can pick up the paperwork on Monday. That’s why I’m calling. It’s Johnny’s funeral on Monday and I want you there. A lot of times the killer will show up at the funeral, and it would be helpful if you could use your talents to locate him for me. The funeral’s at noon.”

He rattled off the name and address of the funeral home and disconnected before I could say anything. Damn! My good mood evaporated, and I wanted to throw my phone across the parking lot, instead, I just stomped my feet a few times. I got in the car and slammed the door, then sat for a minute and took some deep breaths. I could get through this. I just needed to keep it together a little while longer.

When I got home, Chris was ready to go car shopping. He had even found a few cars in the paper he wanted to look at. He was excited to use my mind-reading talents to get the best deal possible, and I had to go along with it.

We spent the next few hours looking at cars. I told Chris I didn’t want another van, even though that was probably the most practical kind of car for us. I mean, how do you pick up a bunch of kids in a cute, sexy sports car? So that’s what we ended up looking for. Most of the dealers were pretty straight-forward. We told them what we wanted and how much money we had to spend, and they showed us the cars in that price range.

There were a couple of dealers that tried to sell us some bad cars, and  we couldn’t get away fast enough from them. Along the way, I got a headache trying to keep all the numbers straight. High book, low book, it was kind of confusing, and I’m not the best at numbers in the first place. Still, I was surprised at how much the cars were marked up. We came home empty-handed, which was my goal since the car I was using wasn’t really a rental. I kind of felt guilty, but Chris just smiled and said we’d try again tomorrow. Yuk!

The next day between going to church and looking at cars, I asked Chris about his law firm. I couldn’t get over the fact that he worked for someone so closely tied to Uncle Joey.

“So, tell me something,” I began. “I’ve met the partners Larsen and Pratt from your law firm, but never Cohen. How come?”