The Deep End (A Saints & Strangers Cozy Mystery Book 2) (10 page)

Charlotte’s cheeks reddened and she dropped her gaze back to her plate.

“Detective Moretti,” Kit said slowly, reminding her mother of his name, “is unable to locate Brendan. It seems he’s made a run for it.”

“It came as a shock to us. He seemed really nice,” Francie offered weakly, stuck between making Charlotte feel better and acknowledging Brendan’s suspicious behavior.

“Nice is not worthy of a place in my vocabulary,” Heloise replied. “Nice is a sure sign that the person is hiding some horrendous secret. It’s the most ridiculous thing in the world and yet I see it happen time and time again. It starts out sweetly enough. A man treats a woman like a prize to be won until she’s no longer necessary to his plans. Then she’s no better than a piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe.” Heloise sighed dramatically. “Well, thank goodness I’m rich. It makes life more tolerable.”

“Thanks for the motivational speech,” Kit said. “I’m sure we’ve all learned a valuable lesson about men from the woman with a single notch on her belt.”

“A lady does not wear belts,” Heloise sniffed.

“Brendan had money once, like I did,” Charlotte said softly. She hated that she wanted to defend him, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted so desperately to believe in his innocence.

“Yes, but he spent his inheritance in record time,” Heloise said.

As much as Kit agreed with her mother about Brendan, she kept it to herself. She refused to give her mother the satisfaction. Besides, there was no point in upsetting Charlotte any further. Whatever joy she’d expressed while riding Peppermint was long gone.

“Well, the disappearance of my trust fund had nothing to do with me spending it,” Kit said, casting a look of disapproval at her mother.

“Neither did ours,” Charlotte added, her misery evident.

“He had no business treating money like tap water and chasing women like a dog chases its tail,” Heloise snapped. “The whole thing lacks class. Then again, given who his father is, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Kit’s radar pinged. “Why? Who’s his father?”

“Roosevelt Anthony Williams,” Heloise said. “If you don’t recognize his name, then you’ve definitely been gone too long, Katherine.”

Francie’s eyes grew round. “R.A. Williams? He went to prison.” Her voice was practically a whisper.

Heloise smiled in acknowledgement. “Embezzlement or some such financial malarkey. I can never keep up with the specifics. I just need to know whether to cross them off the Christmas card list. Crispin would remember. He covered it for the newspaper.”

Charlotte lifted her gaze from the table, remembering the story. Her father had ranted about greed in the modern age and John Tilton rarely ranted.

“That was about the same time Brendan came into his inheritance,” Charlotte said. “That’s an odd coincidence.”

“Not really, dear,” Heloise said with her usual condescending tone. “Brendan did what many angry, wealthy young men do. He reacted to his family’s predicament by overspending.” She snapped her fingers in the air. “All this talk about money at the dinner table is giving me acid reflux. Diane, where’s my relief?”

Diane hurried into the dining room, clutching a tall glass. Kit shook her head in disbelief as Heloise took a long, desperate sip, as though pouring water on a fire.

“You might want to try an antacid,” Kit remarked.

“And ruin a perfectly good gin and tonic?” Heloise quipped. “Whatever for?”

Kit and Romeo sat in a back booth at Provincetown Pancakes. Although she would never admit it aloud, she considered the Westdale establishment to be ‘their place’ ever since their first meeting here.

She told him about her recent visit to Greyabbey, omitting her mother’s oblique references to Romeo and Kit’s shriveling eggs. She tried not to fixate on the scrambled eggs on Romeo’s plate and was relieved when he finished that part of his sampler first.

“Did you know about Brendan’s father?” she asked, spearing a piece of pancake.

Romeo nodded. “One of my guys went to the prison to speak with him last week, to see if he’d heard from Brendan.”

“And?”

“Nope.” Romeo wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Turns out he hasn’t spoken with Brendan once the entire time he’s been in prison.”

“No wonder the poor guy’s judgment is so skewed. He doesn’t exactly have the best role model.” She wasn’t sure if this information would make Charlotte feel better or worse.

“His mother lives in Monterey, California. I spoke to her on the phone, but she claims she hasn’t heard from Brendan in weeks. They don’t seem very close.”

“Do you think that’s where Brendan is headed?” Kit asked.

“We’re working with the police there. They’ve got someone keeping an eye on the property. So far, there’s been no sign of him.”

Kit nibbled thoughtfully on her forkful of blueberry pancake. “I actually feel a little bad for Brendan.”

Romeo scowled at her. “Even if he murdered his girlfriend by holding her underwater until he felt the life leave her body?”

Kit placed her fork onto her plate, her appetite waning. “Well, when you put it that way…” She looked at the remaining pancakes and sighed. “This is turning into a meal at Greyabbey. I feel too disgusted to eat.”

“Is it the company or the food?” he asked, a twinkle in his dark eyes.

“Here? Neither. Just the topic of conversation.” She smiled to reassure him. “At Greyabbey it’s the company, the food
and
the conversation.”

“I thought Diane was an excellent cook,” Romeo remarked.

“She is, but Mother served rack of lamb last night. She knows I won’t eat lamb. It’s so ironic because she’s the animal savior, yet I’m the one bordering on vegetarianism.”

“So I get diner food but your friends get rack of lamb?” He leaned back against the booth. “I’m starting to feel like the redheaded stepchild in this relationship.”

“Believe me, you’re getting the better end of the deal,” Kit insisted, trying not to dwell on his mention of the word ‘relationship.’

“I met your mother, remember?” Romeo said. “She didn’t seem to be the intimidating monster you make her out to be.”

Kit chewed her pancakes, counting each calorie as it slid down her throat and burrowed in her thighs. “Of course not. You were visiting as a member of law enforcement. This time would be different.”

He eyed her with amusement. “How so?”

Kit’s cheeks flamed. He was backing her into a corner and enjoying himself immensely at her expense. “You wouldn’t be there as part of an investigation.”

“Because…”

“Because you’d be there as my new…friend. Mother likes to get to know my friends and fleece them for weaknesses. I’m pretty sure she has Huntley keep a file like Hoover did.”

Romeo folded his broad arms across his broader chest. “Kit Wilder, are you embarrassed of me?”

Kit nearly choked on her pancake. Embarrassed of him? The hottest guy she’d ever spent time with, and that included her cheating former co-star, Charlie Owen.

“No, of course not. Why would you say that?” She gulped water from her glass.

Romeo shrugged. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“I’m going to Rebecca and Charlotte’s charity event tomorrow night. That Monte Carlo thing. Do you want to come and grill potential suspects while they’re hypnotized by spinning roulette wheels?”

His expression soured. “So once again, I’m attending a Pilgrim Society function as a member of law enforcement.”

“It’s not a Pilgrim Society thing. It’s in honor of John Tilton to raise money for cancer,” Kit said.

“I don’t think cancer needs any money,” Romeo replied, his lips twitching.

“You’ll have a range of sources and potential suspects in one place,” Kit said, ignoring his joke.

“Jake Krieg and Brendan Williams will be there?”

Kit looked to the ceiling for help. “Okay, so sources of information will be there.” She returned her gaze to Romeo. “Are they both still suspects?”

“They haven’t been ruled out. If we find Brendan, that would be a huge help.”

“What about Rebecca?”

“Her story’s been confirmed,” he said and Kit relaxed slightly. “We were able to verify her location on the morning in question through the ISP address that she was using.” He tapped his fork on the edge of his plate. “So what’s in it for you if I go?”

Kit smiled. “Your expression when you see me wearing my favorite red dress.”

Romeo’s grin broadened. “How can I say no to that?”

“I’ll bet you look quite distinguished in a tux,” she told him.

“Hmmm. Looks good in a tux. Will that be enough to win over your mother?” he asked.

Kit studied him. “What is it with my mother? Why would you think you need to win her over?”

Romeo shifted his gaze to the empty plate in front of him. “She obviously holds a lot of sway in this town. Given the amount of work in Westdale I’ve been involved in lately…” He gave her a pointed look. “It just seems smart to get on the lady’s good side.”

Kit masked her disappointment. On the one hand, she wanted him to officially throw his hat in the dating ring — to admit that her mother’s approval was linked to his interest in Kit. On the other hand, she knew that a relationship with him would be riddled with obstacles. His Italian heritage was bad enough. Working class was worse. Heloise was not likely to embrace blue collar Romeo Moretti as a potential family member in this lifetime or any other. Not that Kit wanted or needed her mother’s approval. As it happened, she’d been living without it for a long time. She could tell, though, that Romeo was the type of man who needed the warm embrace of family. Heloise’s good opinion mattered to him.

“I wish you luck,” Kit said finally. “But don’t try too hard. She hates clingers.”

“What was she like when you were small?” Romeo asked. “Has she always been an ice queen?”

Kit swallowed her last piece of pancake. “Let me put it this way. If I fell and skinned my knee, she snapped her fingers for Huntley to retrieve the Band-Aids. She did not kiss boo-boos.”

“Was your dad like that, too?”

Kit smiled, remembering her father. “No. He was a soft touch. He was very involved in my life. Taught me how to golf and play tennis, how to ride horses. He gave the best hugs.” Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

“I feel so boring now,” Romeo said. “My dad taught me how to ride a bike. Then my bike got stolen and we couldn’t afford another one.”

Kit laughed despite herself. “Is that why you went into crime fighting? To avenge your lost bicycle?”

“It definitely put a bee in my bonnet.”

Kit laughed again at the image of Romeo in a bonnet. “The event begins at seven at the Weston Inn, if you want to meet me there.”

Romeo shook his head. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I met you there? I’ll pick you up at quarter to seven.”

Kit’s body tingled. That definitely made it seem more like a date than a work obligation. She hoped casino night would be her lucky night in more ways than one.

Chapter Six

Well-dressed men and women swarmed the Weston Inn for the colon cancer fundraiser in memory of John Tilton. Bow-tied waiters served champagne as guests nibbled on an array of appetizers and a band played soft jazz in the background. The gaming tables were scattered throughout the venue. Attendees indulged in roulette, blackjack and craps. Rebecca and Charlotte were immensely pleased with the show of support for their father.

“This is amazing,” Kit exclaimed, maneuvering her way through the crowd to greet the hostesses. They’d left long before Kit in order to oversee the preparations. “Your dad would be so proud.”

“Thanks,” Charlotte said. “I think so, too.” Kit thought she looked particularly pretty in a soft pink vintage dress while Rebecca embodied elegance in a classic cocktail dress.

Rebecca peered over Kit’s shoulder. “I see you brought a handsome date.”

Kit didn’t need to turn around to know that Romeo wasn’t far behind. “I think a date is someone you bring voluntarily. He more or less followed me here,” she joked.

“Collecting strays?” Rebecca queried. “How like your mother you are.”

Kit glared at her as Romeo approached them.

“Good evening, ladies,” Romeo said. “You both look beautiful tonight.”

“So you’re here for work then?” Rebecca inquired.

He slipped a playful arm around Kit’s waist. “How can I call it work when I’m in such exquisite company?”

Kit made a gagging sound. “Be yourself, please. Nobody likes a suck-up.”

“It’s all right, Kit,” Charlotte said. “We want to find Jasmine’s killer. If that means another handsome face in the crowd, we’ll gladly take it.”

Romeo’s expression softened. “We’ll find out who did it, Charlotte. I promise.”

“Please do,” Francie said. “Charlotte wouldn’t last two minutes in prison.”

“Luckily, that’s not a likely outcome since she isn’t a suspect,” Romeo said.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte mused. “I might function quite well in a tiny cell. Not much to knock over in there apart from my cellmate.”

“Depending on your cellmate, that could be a huge problem,” Kit pointed out.

A woman approached wearing loud prints and raspberry-colored heels. Not quite the formal look that most people had adopted for the evening.

“You Tilton girls have done a killer job.” She clapped her hands together.

“Perhaps a poor choice of words, Mrs. Goodington,” Rebecca reprimanded her gently.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon.” The woman gazed admiringly at Romeo. “I don’t know you.” She zeroed in on the absence of a ring on his finger. “Eligible, are we?”

“Romeo, you’ll have to forgive Mrs. Goodington,” Rebecca apologized. “She’s so splendid at organizing events she thinks that gives her a license to organize love lives as well.”

Mrs. Goodington reached across Romeo and grabbed Kit by the chin. “And this one. Oh, I’ll see you married soon enough and your lovely mother will thank me for it.”

Kit pulled her chin free and scowled. “Lovely mother is a bit of an oxymoron, don’t you think?”

Mrs. Goodington laughed. “Oh, you two and your silly quarrels. Your mother is the saintliest of all the saints. I adopted two of her rescue cats last year. Amos and Andy are delightful creatures.”