The Comeback Kiss (21 page)

And he was very possibly related to it.

“
So, you think you can ca
ll County for me, then? I can run down there this afternoon and pick the files up myself.”

Tarpey plunked his coffee mug down on his desk, clasped his hands together, and leaned forward.

“
Did I ever tell you that Grace
’
s cousin died in a suspicious fire?”

“
No. When did that happen?”

“
Twenty-five years ago, before we were married. Hell, we hadn
’
t even started dating yet. I was determined to solve the mystery, be the big hero. But I didn
’
t have anything, really, other than a gut feeling. One day, Grace asked
me to stop looking into it. Said she
’
d rather I help her move on than stay stuck on something we
’
d never know the answer to.”
Tarpey gave Joe a brief nod. “
You understand what I
’
m saying?”

Joe leaned back in his chair. “
I don
’
t understand what it has to do
with the Scuderi files, no.”

“
Joe, Karen Scuderi died in a car accident.”

“
Running from a suspicious fire.”

“
The fire was also accidental. It was a bad convergence of events, nothing more.”

“
Maybe.”

“
And there
’
s nothing in those files now that wasn
’
t ther
e the last five times you looked at them. Cause and Origin ruled it was an accident, and I
’
m inclined to trust their judgment.”

“
Then why did you take your own pictures of Vickie
’
s?”

Tarpey sighed. “
Look, Joe, if you
’
ve got a thing for Tessa Scuderi, get
her some flowers. Don
’
t dig up her dead mother. It isn
’
t romantic.”

Joe watched Tarpey for a moment, then spoke. “
This isn
’
t about Tessa.”

Tarpey tapped his big beefy fingers against the desk blotter as the wheels in his mind cranked.

“
No skin off my nose,
”
he said finally. “
But I think you
’
re better off just taking her out to dinner. Somewhere out of town. Or maybe to mini-golf on I-91. We could make it a double.”

Joe smiled, tapped the flat of his hand on Tarpey
’
s desk, and stood up. “
Call me when I
’
ve go
t clearance to go get those files?”

Tarpey gave a slight shake of his head, then waved one hand in acquiescence.

Joe smiled. “
Thanks, Tarpey.”

“
Hey, while you
’
re here,”
Tarpey said, “
you find someone else to take that damn bird yet?”

“
The macaw? You don
’
t
like it?”

Tarpey shook his head. “
No, I like it fine. But Grace has allergies. She keeps sneezing and hacking and the thing is making her crazy, and she
’
s making me crazy. Bird
’
s likely to come to an untimely and violent death, it stays at my place much lo
nger.”

“
I
’
ll come by and pick it up later.”
Joe paused. “
Hey, has anyone talked to Vickie?”

“
Beats the hell out of me,”
Tarpey said. “
Last I heard, no one had been able to get a hold of her.”

“
She didn
’
t leave any contact information with anyone? No cell p
hone number, no e-mail? The hotel where she was staying?”

“
What can I say?”
Tarpey leaned back, put his hands behind his head, and smiled. “
Woman knows how to take a vacation.”

***

“
No,”
Finn said, wrenching his hands around the steering wheel of the car.

“
Oh, come on,”
Babs said. “
I
’
m hungry. I
’
m homeless. I
’
d like a nice slice of apple pie from the local greasy spoon. Is that too much to ask?”

Finn shot her a look. “
You
’
re not homeless. You
’
ve got a perfectly good home in New York. And since all the roo
ms in town are filled
—”

“
All
six
rooms,”
Babs said. “
What kind of town has only six rooms for visitors?”

“
It
’
s the middle of winter, the middle of the week. It
’
s not exactly the hot tourist season.”

“
Well, it
’
s very frustrating. I think the least you can d
o is take me to the diner and get me some pie.”

Finn shot her a sideways glance. “
Fine. I
’
ll take you to Max
’
s
—”

Babs clapped her hands together, her face lighting up like a little girl
’
s on Christmas morning.

“—
and you can go on inside and get your pie wh
ile I wait.”

Babs rolled her eyes and slumped back in her seat. “
Now that just doesn
’
t make any sense.”

Finn turned the car onto Main. “
No, it doesn
’
t give you what you want. It
makes
perfect sense.”

“
You
’
re just going to wait outside. In the cold?”

“
Yep.”

“
You
’
re not hungry?”

“
Not hungry enough.”

Finn pulled into the parking lot at Max
’
s. Babs shot a look at the backseat. “
Talk some sense into him, will you, Wallace?”

At the sound of his name, Wallace gave a short huff from the backseat. Finn watched him f
or a second in the rearview, but the dog didn
’
t say anything.

Which was good.

’
Cause dogs don
’
t talk.

Finn pulled around the side of the diner to the employee lot, parking next to Tessa
’
s Thing. As Babs let herself out of her side, he opened the back door
and looked at Wallace, who refused to move from his curled-up position on the backseat.

“
I
’
m not paying for this car to be detailed from you marking your territory,”
Finn said. “
Out. There
’
s a fire hydrant around here somewhere just waiting to be abused, I
’
m sure.”

Wallace huffed again, then pulled himself up and hopped out of the car. Finn turned toward the diner, listened as the
clack-clack-clack
of Babs
’
s heels came up behind him.

“
You
’
re just going to let him off like that?”
Babs said. “
Aren
’
t you afrai
d he won
’
t come back?”

“
Nope,”
Finn said. He scooted himself up on the trunk of the car and pulled out his pack of smokes. Babs tightened her grip on her shoulder bag and sighed.

“
I thought you said you were quitting,”
she said.

“
I said I would quit when I
turn thirty.”
He flicked his lighter and lit the smoke. “
That
’
s not for another eight months.”

Babs watched him. He took a long drag, exhaled, flicked the ashes to the ground, and met her gaze.

“
Better go get that pie,”
he said. “
Tick tock, lady.”

As if t
o prove his point, the town bell struck the half hour. Babs let out a heavy, dramatic sigh, then turned and headed into the diner. Finn stared at the brick on Max
’
s side wall and felt like he was seventeen again, out sneaking a smoke on his break. Didn
’
t
h
elp having Tessa
’
s big, flowered Thing sitting there. It was like a damn time machine, and for a moment he even had an impulse to run inside, grab an apron, and start bussing tables.

Except he
’
d sworn after that last argument with Max that he
’
d die before
setting foot back in that diner again, and he meant it.

He tossed the cigarette down on the ground and hopped off the trunk to smash it out with his boot. As he did, some movement toward the back of the lot caught his eye, and he glanced up to see Izzy ski
rting through the parking lot in the direction of her house, arms crossed over her stomach, head down. It wasn
’
t until she
’
d passed him that he saw the soot on the back of her white coat.

“
Just what the doctor ordered,”
he muttered as he walked after Izzy.
“
A healthy dose of distraction.”

Chapter Eleven

Izzy scrubbed at her hands in the kitchen sink, creating a mound of soap bubbles that came halfway up her arms, but still, there was soot under her fingernails.

“
Crappity crap crap shit,”
she muttered.

“
W
ell, hello, sailor.”

Izzy
’
s body jolted backward as she let out a violent scream. Suds hit the wall of the kitchen. She finally gained her balance, leaned back against the counter and turned to see Finn smiling at her.

“
Holy cats,”
she said, putting her ha
nd over her chest.

“
Now, that
’
s better.”
He picked up the Mickey Mouse snow globe on the kitchen table and gave it a shake. “
You have to watch your language. People will think you have no fucking class.”

“
What are you doing here?”
she said. “
Don
’
t you knoc
k?”

“
I did. You must not have heard me.”

Izzy took a deep breath. “
Oh.”

“
Actually, that
’
s a lie. I didn
’
t knock. But imagine if I had. I would have missed the whole Macbeth act. Couple of witches and a cauldron, you could take that on the road.”

Izzy stare
d at him. He gestured toward her with the snow globe. “
Someday, you
’
re gonna get that joke, and man, are you gonna laugh.”

Izzy snatched a towel off the oven handle and dried her hands. “
I get it.
Out, damned spot.
It
’
s not funny.”

“
Oh, it so totally is,”
Finn said, mocking teen-speak in a way that somehow wasn
’
t as annoying as when Tessa did it. He set the globe back on the table and eyed Izzy for a moment. “
So, I thought you were smart.”

“
I am,”
Izzy said.

“
Really?”
he said. His face went dark. “
Because I
don
’
t think smart girls break into crime scenes thinking they
’
re gonna catch something the cops didn
’
t.”

Izzy
’
s eyes widened and a chill went through her. She swallowed. “
How... how did you... ?”