The Comeback Kiss (30 page)

“
Dermot?”

Finn turned around to see Margie Fletcher coming into the shop through t
he back. She pulled off her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. Finn assumed his most charming grin.

“
Morning,”
he said. “
Door was unlocked. I rang the bell.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stood where she was, watching him with an expressio
n of extreme prejudice. Finn stood up straighter and let the charm fade. Obviously, Margie was part of the relatively small but justified camp of Lucy
’
s Lake residents who didn
’
t think Finn was a big hero.

Good, he thought. I can work with that.

“
I hope it
’
s okay to have dogs in here,”
Finn said, nodding down at Wallace. “
He
’
s not mine, but he
’
s been kinda following me around.”

Margie
’
s eyebrows knit, and she slowly moved into the shop, peering around the counter to look down at Wallace. Her face instantly
brightened and she bent down and took Wallace
’
s face in her hands, scratching behind each of his ears.

“
Oh, Bitsy!”
she said.

Finn quirked an eyebrow. “
Bitsy?”

“
Yeah,”
Margie said. “
I know he
’
s a boy, but when he first showed up begging at Vickie
’
s, I thou
ght he was a she. Unfortunately, by that time, we
’
d already named him Bitsy.”

Finn raised an eyebrow at Wallace.
Bitsy?

Wallace struggled against Margie
’
s enthused petting to meet Finn
’
s eyes.
Bite me.

Finn grinned. “
I guess that explains why he was at Vic
kie
’
s that morning. Didn
’
t look like her typical pedigree dog.”

Margie straightened, her smile fading a bit.

“
I heard you saved Vickie
’
s,”
she said, her voice tight. “
Thank you.”

Finn shrugged. “
Wrong place, wrong time. My specialty. Where is Vickie, anywa
y? I would have thought she
’
d come back, considering her business almost burned down.”

Margie shook her head, her expression unreadable. “
I don
’
t think she knows. She left for Bimini last Friday, and I don
’
t think her cell phone has roaming.”

Bimini, huh?
This was the first he
’
d heard of that. “
And no one knows what hotel she
’
s in?”

“
Guess not,”
she said. “
She usually tells Stella those things, but...”

“
I
’
m just kind of surprised she didn
’
t tell you,”
Finn said. “
Aren
’
t you two close?”

“
Yes, we are,”
Margie
said. Finn waited for her to elaborate, but she didn
’
t. Instead, she reached over the counter, pulled a dog biscuit out of a fishbowl, and tossed it to Wallace, who snapped it up as though he was starving, despite the fact that he
’
d been gorging himself
o
n dog food since Finn brought it home the night before.

“
So, is there anything I can help you with?”

“
Yeah,”
Finn said. “
I actually came by to get some flowers.”

Margie
’
s smile completely disappeared, and she raised one eyebrow. “
For Tessa?”

“
Actually, no,
”
he said, leaning his hip and elbow against the counter. “
But don
’
t feel you have to mask your disapproval on my account.”

Margie
’
s face softened. “
I
’
m sorry. I don
’
t mean to be rude. I know you
’
ve done a lot of wonderful things for the people in this tow
n. But ever since Karen passed...”
She sighed, and her pale blue eyes brimmed with tears. “
Well, I just feel very protective of those girls.”

Finn smiled. “
I
’
m glad to hear it.”
He nodded toward the display cooler by the wall. “
Can I get that bunch there i
n front?”

Margie turned and glanced at the cooler. “
The Gerbera daisies?”
She shot a look at Finn. “
Do you know what daisies say?”

“
What, the daisies are talking now, too?”

Margie
’
s eyebrows knit for a moment, and a small smile played on her lips. “
They ha
ve meaning, yeah. Daises say,
‘
My love is loyal and pure.
’”

Finn pulled out his wallet. “
Works for me.”

***

Ten minutes later, Finn was cutting fresh footprints through the snow of Lucy
’
s Lake
’
s only cemetery, shared by all religious factions of the town
, and kept pristine by said factions on ten acres of land just south of town. He wound his way through the maze of gravestones, Wallace keeping time behind him, until he found the stone he was looking for.

He knelt down in front of Karen Scuderi
’
s grave an
d cleared the snow out of the steel vase on the side of her tombstone. He peeled the plastic wrap off the flowers and tucked them into the vase, then crouched down before the grave.

“
I hope you like the flowers,”
he said. “
I couldn
’
t find a two-by-four on
such short notice.”
He laughed lightly at his own joke, then stood up, started to walk away, and turned back.

“
There isn
’
t much about me that
’
s loyal and pure.”
He took a deep breath of the cold air. “
And I know you
’
re probably hating that I
’
m back. If it
makes you feel better, you
’
re not alone. But I swear, I won
’
t let anyone hurt her. Either of them.”

He stood for a moment longer in silence, then gave Karen one last nod and turned back toward town.

***

“
I really think you should call your sister,”
Sosie
said, her whisper barely audible, even though she was huddled up close to Izzy in the bathroom stall.

“
I can
’
t,”
Izzy said, holding the locket, bundled in tissue paper, out in the palm of her hand. “
I have to know, and I can
’
t do it.”
She extended her han
d toward Sosie. “
Please. Just open it.”

Sosie bit her lip and tucked a long strand of brown hair behind her ear. She stared down at the tissue, then opened the stall door again to make sure no one else was in the bathroom.

“
Sose, if someone had come in sin
ce the last time you checked, we
’
d hear them.”
Izzy pulled the stall door shut again. “
Please. I need you. If this is what I think it is, I swear, I
’
ll run out and find Finn right now and give it to him.”

Sosie blinked. “
What? Cut school? Again?”

Izzy shru
gged. “
Yeah. Big deal. Everyone cuts.”

“
Yeah, but didn
’
t your sister say
—”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “
Tessa
’
s totally paranoid. I
’
m sixteen. No one
’
s gonna take me away. Everyone cuts. And if you don
’
t open that soon, my five-minute pass is going to expire and
you know Mr. Dudley. He wrote Shinae up for cutting class when she took too long in the bathroom last week.”
She grabbed Sosie
’
s right hand and slapped the bundle into her friend
’
s palm. “
You wanna keep me out of trouble? Help me.”

Sosie let out a heavy s
igh, then slowly unwrapped the paper. Izzy closed her eyes. There was the sound of tissue crumpling, then a small silence before the click of the locket opening. A little more silence. Another click as the locket closed. More tissue crumpling.

Izzy opened
her eyes. “
What?”

Sosie
’
s eyes were moist. “
Tell me what was in your mother
’
s locket again?”

“
A picture of Tessa with a beach ball on one side. A picture of me as a baby on the other.”

Sosie put the bundle back in Izzy
’
s hand.

“
It
’
s your mother
’
s,”
she sai
d quietly.

It was so strange, the way Izzy felt nothing at the words. She didn
’
t really know what she should be feeling
—
sadness, anger, confusion
—
but she expected she
’
d feel something.

Instead, she was perfectly calm, completely untouched.
This must be wha
t shock feels like,
she thought. Although she had suspected these things, part of her had been convinced that it was just her imagination, that the Nancy Drew bit would end in a benign cul-de-sac of reason, and she would look back on it years down the fine
and laugh it her own silliness.

She hadn
’
t really, truly expected she
’
d be right. Part of the reason she
’
d gone to Finn had been to get him to prove her wrong.

But she wasn
’
t wrong. Her mother
’
s locket proved it.

Numb, she put the bundle back into her poc
ket, then opened the door to the stall and let herself out.

“
Iz?”
Sosie called from behind her as Izzy touched up her lip gloss in the mirror. “
What are you gonna do?”

“
I
’
m gonna go back to trig,”
Izzy said, feeling weirdly separate from her own voice. “
Mr
. Dudley will write me up if I don
’
t get back.”

She gave Sosie a tight smile, then headed out the door. She felt like she was floating, like her feet weren
’
t connecting with the ground. As she moved through the hallway, she was only aware of the thought ru
nning through her head.

Someone killed my mother.
She shook her head to push it away, but it stayed, repeating, like an automated message.

Someone killed my mother. Someone killed my mother.

It felt like it took a year to get back to trig class, but when s
he walked in, Mr. Dudley only nodded briefly at her as she took her seat. So her entire life had completely changed in just under five minutes.

Weird.

***

Tessa tossed herself on the couch and settled the bottle of gin beside her. She liked this. This wa
s good. This felt good. And hell, it was five o
’
clock
somewhere.
Moscow, maybe. She picked up the bottle and took another drink, then held it out to see if she could tell how much she
’
d had.